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chiliiscereal · 3 years

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chosen last: part three

The people asked and so they shall receive

https://chiliiscereal.tumblr.com/post/650808822043115520/chosen-last

https://chiliiscereal.tumblr.com/post/651201066386554880/chosen-last-part-two

Summary: a boy takes notice of reader for the first time and Donnie is worried that he’s bad news. Little do both of them know, he’s right

Warning: mentions of attempted rape

——-

You felt so much better about yourself when your birthday was over. It was honestly one of the best you’d ever had. Better than the ones your friends planned anyway. You still went, but it was nothing like the party that the turtles threw. You didn’t think it could get any better.

Until, that is, something happened that almost made you change your mind.

You friend put a picture of you and her, together, up on Snapchat.

And... for the first time in your life... a guy took notice of you.

It wasn’t much. It was just “who’s that? Low key cute. Whats their snap?”

That happened to your friends.

Never to you.

Even more surprising, your friend gave him your snap.

Eric.

Eric was his name.

And he also went to your school!

You were incredibly nervous about this. Every single time a boy took interest in you it never seemed to be what your thought it was.

Last time a boy took interest in you it was ACTUALLY so they could get with your friend. That, my friends, was two years ago. Your friends blasted through boys like there was no tomorrow. But you? You’d never had someone interested in you like that.

Until now.

You talked to him and... honestly... you felt like there was something there.

He asked a lot about you and just seemed like the one, you know? You both shared the same interest in shows! You both enjoyed the same music!

Whenever he responded to you, you just couldn’t help but feel elated.

You would fall back on your bed and stare at the ceiling, feeling like this was a scene from a movie.

He didn’t wait for twenty minutes to respond to you.

He acknowledged every single thing you said.

And when he met up with you after school...

Wow.

Just wow.

He was incredibly handsome and polite.

He even held doors open for you!

You found yourself meeting up with him again and again.

It made you feel so... important.

Unfortunately, the turtles didn’t feel the same way.

————

“Who ya talkin’ to?” Leo leaned closer to look over your shoulder from his spot beside you on the couch.

It was movie night with the boys and April.

You brought you phone to your chest to obscure his view. “Hey hey hey back off!” You playfully shoved him away. “Just a friend.”

Mikey gave you a shit eating grin when he noticed the smile slipping onto your face. “Just a friend huh?” He pulled himself off the floor and reached for your phone. “Let me see let me see!”

You held it away from him to. “Woah this is my phone! Get away!”

A metal claw snatched it from your hand, retracting back to Donnie.

“And is this ‘friend’ a boy or a girl?” He opened your phone. “Ugh, what’s your password?”

You leapt off the couch and tried to grab your device back. “Does it matter?”

Donnie tapped away at the buttons, using his metal claws from his battle shell to keep you away. “No, it doesn’t matter unless it’s a BOY.” You phone buzzed slightly as it opened to your home screen. “Aha, I am in!”

Mikey and Leo both crawled over to their soft shelled brother to observe from behind him.

“Donnie, give it back.” You ordered, looking to April for help. She just shrugged and continued watching with a smirk. “Guys, come on! It’s not a big deal!”

Raph pulled himself off the floor and placed his hands on his hips. “Alright, jokes over; give the phone back.”

Donnie groaned. “Come on! I’m so close to figuring out who y/n’s talking to!”

Raph gave him a stern look. “Now. It’s private and obviously Y/n doesn’t want you looking through it.”

Donnie, Mikey, and Leo all gave him giant puppy eyes.

Raph simply held out his hand.

Donnie sighed. “Fine. Here.”

You sighed as well but in relief.

Raph took it from him, glancing down at your phone. To your dismay, it was open up to messages. “Eric Sherrin?” He asked in confusion.

“AHA!” Donnie shouted in triumph. “A name is all I need!” He began typing in the device on his wrist.

“Raph!” You accused angrily.

Ugh what were you gonna do now??

You’d never hear the end of this.

“Hey! Raph’s on your side! I didn’t know he could find out with just a name!” He held up his hands in defense.

“Eric?” April asked as she swiped through her phone. “Does he go to our school?”

You glared at Donnie before you decided whether or not to share that.

He shrugged. “Hey, I already have his social media up and every piece of information I could find. Whether or not you say will change nothing.”

“Fine.” You growled. “Yes, he goes to our school. He’s a mutual friend with my other friends.”

April raised a brow. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better.”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Well it doesn’t.”

April was dead set on despising your friends. You knew she had good reason but you didn’t need it brought up now.

Leo took the computer that Donnie had sent all the information to, scrolling through Eric’s social media. “Wow, there are a lot of pictures of him holding fish.” He snorted. “Does he think that’s gonna impress people or something?”

“I’ve never understood the appeal.” Donnie shook his head. “So what? You killed an animal good for you.”

“I think it’s about killing a BIG animal.” Leo squinted at the screen. “There’s also lots of pictures of him with other girls.”

“Guys can you just stop?” You placed your hands on your hips. “It’s sweet that you’re trying to make sure he’s not some idiot but you’re invading his privacy-!”

“Woah, look what I found in his records from the school.” Donnie waved his brothers closer.

Even Raph and April did so.

“He harassed at girl at school?” Mikey repeated as he read the screen. “Really?”

“Yeah no this guy’s bad news.” Donnie shook his head in disappointment. “Y/n, give me your phone. I’ll block him for you.” He even reached his hand out expectantly.

You held your phone closer. “No, that’s just a rumor that spread at school.”

The boys stopped what they were doing.

“You knew?” Leo narrowed his eyes. “And you’re still interested?”

“He told me that the teachers didn’t believe him.” You responded as you crossed your arms. “Some girl made it up cause she didn’t like him.”

“You can’t take that risk.” Raph crossed his arms.

“Raph, I thought you were in my side!” You protested.

“That was before Raph found out that the guy harassed someone.” He defended. “Come on, you know this can’t end good.”

Your stomach burned with anger.

Anger that they felt they could order you around like that.

That they wouldn’t even let you figure it out yourself.

That this might end just like every other romantic interest would.

“Why won’t you just let me handle this myself?” You stuffed your hands in your pockets and flopped back down in the couch.

Mikey crawled into the spot next to you, wrapping his arms around you. “You’re one of our best friends! We don’t want anything to happen to you!” He gave you wide innocent eyes as if that would erase your anger.

Well... it did.

Curse him and his adorable eyes.

You rolled your eyes and hugged him back. “I know. I just want to figure this out myself.” You gave Donnie a hard glare as your rested your chin on Mikey’s shoulder.

“Fine.” He closed all the tabs on his computer grudgingly. “But I know this is just gonna end in heartbreak.”

“What a vote of confidence.” Leo snorted and plopped down in the spot next to you.

He smirked when you ignored him, still hugging Mikey.

“Hey, come on, you know you can’t stay mad at this face.” He leaned against you dramatically. “I’m the face man! You can’t resist me!” He pulled you away from Mikey and draped his arm over your shoulder. “You know you love me.”

You turned your head away from him, more playful now than spiteful.

“Come onnnnn...” he smirked. “You love meeee...”

You shoved him off the couch with a laugh. “I’m still thinking that over.”

Raph quickly took Leo’s seat as his younger brother rubbed the spot he’d landed on.

“No hard feelings?” Raph rested his arm on the couch behind you as he started the movie back up.

“Fine. No hard feelings.”

Leo moved so he was sitting on the floor and leaning against your legs.

You couldn’t stay mad at them. Well, except Donnie. You could very well stay mad at Donnie.

And it seemed that Donnie could stay mad at you as well. He left the room with all his tech, grumbling something under his breath.

“I already know how this is gonna end.” He grumbled.

“Love you to, Donnie.” You muttered, sinking into the couch.

Whatever.

He’d get over it soon enough.

————

Donnie didn’t get over it.

Whenever you came over to hang out he brought it up again casually. Well, as casually as Donnie could be, which wasn’t very casual at all.

“Ugh, this game sucks!” Mikey shouted at the tv once.

“Not as much as Eric What’s-his-face’s record.” He’d commented, giving you a glance out of the corner of his eye.

Or even:

“Ugh you can’t trust those pop up ads.” Raph told Leo when his phone had downloaded a virus after he clicked an ad.

“Just like how you can’t trust Eric.” He’d ran into the room to spit that out.

If Raph ever asked how things were going with Eric, Donnie either magically appeared next to him with a hopeful look or disappear with a groan.

You and Eric weren’t even together.

But... you hoped you would be soon.

He invited you to a party that Friday! And he’d specified that he’s invited you as his date.

Your friends were excited, surprisingly. They wanted to help you find an outfit and everything.

Finally, you felt like things were going right.

Why couldn’t Donnie just be happy for you?

——-

“Why won’t you come?” You begged April as she flopped down onto your bed.

“You’ve got Eric and all of your other friends.” She waved you off. “Besides, you know I hate parties.” She sat up slightly. “And Eric gives me the heebie jeebies.”

You rolled your eyes and held out a dress. “Yeah, yeah. Fine, I won’t make you.”

April touched the fabric of the dress with a frown. “Is this what your friends picked out for you? I thought you didn’t like dresses?”

You shrugged. “They said Eric would like it and that it looked good on me.”

April fully sat up now. “But you’re gonna be so uncomfortable in that!”

“I mean, it’s supposed to be pretty, not comfy, right?” You shrugged, slipping it on over your head. “Does it look good?” You gave her a small twirl.

“Of course it’s pretty... but its a little... much.” She shook her head. “Does Eric really deserve to see you in that?”

The last bit was playful but still...

“I think so.” You say down beside her. “I’m just so incredibly nervous and I don’t know if this is a bad idea.”

You felt exposed.

But, you also trusted that the people at the party could be trusted with that.

April draped her arm over your shoulder. “Well you look stunning.”

You smiled back at her. “Thanks.”

“Alright, girl, your party’s in twenty minutes. Ready to head out?” She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the door.

You stood up and smoothed out the dress. “Ready.”

———

You stood in front of the house nervously. You could hear the music and see the lights and people dancing. You just didn’t know if you actually were ready.

“You look hot, y/n.” Your friend told you, glancing at one of your other friends. “He’s gonna love it.”

You didn’t really love it, but if he liked it then so would you.

“Hope so.” You muttered, checking your phone.

Donnie sent you a simple text:

Don’t trust Eric and keep pepper spray on hand.

Wow, such confidence.

You ignored it and stuffed your phone in the dress pocket. You didn’t need that. You needed all the confidence you could muster.

“Wow.” A voice said from behind you, causing you to jump.

There was Eric, dressed nicely and with a charming smile on his face.

“You look hot.” He grinned.

Your stomach fluttered. “Oh, thank... thank you!”! You smoothed it out nervously.

You didn’t know if your stomach felt this way out of nerves or out of feelings for him. You really couldn’t tell.

He placed his hand over your hip and pulled you to his side. “Well Let’s head on in! Can’t wait to show you off.”

Your stomach jumped. “Well, I just wanted to wait a little,” he opened the door and dragged you in, “oh okay!”

Your friends and Eric were at your side the whole time.

You still felt as if you were on display while you and your group were dancing.

You still felt like the dress was too short when you and Eric sat down on the couch.

You felt like he was staring at you when you noticed the couples in the room kissing and making out.

“You wanna head upstairs?” He asked as he took your hand.

Your heart jumped. “No, no I’m good. Really.”

“Come on.” He nodded his head in the direction of the stairs. “It’ll be fun!”

You shook your head. “No I don’t want to go upstairs.”

He looked disappointed but you stayed confident with your choice. You didn’t want that and you weren’t ready.

He recovered quickly and dropped your hand. “Alright! I’m just gonna go talk to a friend real quick, I’ll be back.”

You sighed in relief when you realized he wouldn’t push it on you.

He got up and you pulled out your phone, trying to decide if you wanted to text Donnie back.

You settled on typing:

Yeah yeah whatever.

You saw he read it but he didn’t respond.

What was with him?

Why couldn’t he just be happy?

You glanced up, noticing Eric talking to one of your friends. You noticed him glance back at you and then back at your friend. She handed him something and he left to go to the kitchen.

You went back to your phone, waiting to see if Donnie would respond.

You just wanted your friend back.

Why couldn’t he just... ugh no you had to stop asking that. He was being too judgemental and untrusting.

There was nothing untrustworthy about Eric.

He was just being crazy...

You glanced up again, noticing Eric at the drink table. Whatever it was your friend had given him, he was slipping it in his drink.

You looked closer.

It was some sort of... powder?

When he turned back around you immediately acted like you hadn’t been watching.

He made his way to you and sat down, a drink in each hand. “I thought you looked a little thirsty, so I got you a soda!”

He handed you the red cup enthusiastically.

No, he couldn’t be trying to spike your drink. He wouldn’t do that.

But he was looking at you so expectantly.

“Oh, thank you!” You swirled the soda suspiciously. “I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to corn syrup so... sorry.” You set the drink back down.

Again, he looked disappointed. Maybe even a little mad.

“Hey, We’re gonna go upstairs and play a game!” Your friend shouted from across the room. “Wanna join?”

“What game?” You asked, feeling incredibly nervous.

“Truth or dare!” She giggled. “You’ll love it!”

Eric jumped on that idea expectantly. “Come on lets go!”

“I don’t really...”

He pulled you up before you could even finish.

You wanted to stay where people could see you!

But... you WERE gonna be with your friends...

“Alright, Fine.” You settled. “I’ll go.”

“Awesome!”

You and your group headed up and down the hallway.

Your friend opened the door for you and let you in first. Eric followed closely behind you.

It was a bedroom. A very dark bedroom.

“Hey, We’re gonna head down to the bathroom and freshen up first.” One of your friends smirked. “You two have fun!”

“Wait, no-!”

They were already gone and the door was shut.

Eric had gotten you upstairs.

Alone.

————-

Donnie sighed, trying hard to focus on his work. “Why can’t y/n just listen to me.” He groaned to himself. “I’m just trying to help! How does that make me the bad guy?”

He continued wiring his latest invention, frustrated at how he kept messing up.

“It’s not gonna end well.” He growled. “It’s gonna end in heartbreak and I’m gonna have to pick up the pieces.”

“If y/n even trusts you with that.” Leo added from behind him, causing him to jump.

“Nardo, how long have you been standing there?” He glowered at him. “I’m busy.”

Leo held up his hands in surrender. “A while. Anyway, you’re just pushing y/n away.”

“But y/n isn’t listening to me!” He protested, dropping his tool. “I’m right!”

“Maybe, but you’re also being a jerk.” He shrugged. “Maybe she’ll get her heart broken but you could at least be there for support.”

“Oh no no no I’m not supporting that relationship.” He shook his head vigorously and picked up his screwdriver.

“Not the relationship, egghead.” Leo rolled his eyes. “Our friend?”

“Oh.” Donnie tapped the table in thought. “Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t have left y/n on read...”

“...And maybe go apologize?” Leo prompted.

“No she’s at a party.” He glanced around his phone, checking your location again. “Actually...” he leaned closer to stare at his screen, “y/n’s not at the party any more.”

“Perfect!” Leo clasped his hands together. “Go apologize!”

“It can’t wait?”

“Go!”

———-

You sat on the rooftop, clutching your jacket to your body and watching the city.

How could you have been so stupid.

How could have let something like that happen.

It was incredibly cold on the rooftop but you didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to go home. You CERTAINLY didn’t want to go to the lair either.

You just wanted to watch the city and pretend everything was okay again.

Why did you have to get your hopes up.

No one ever took interest in you like that unless they wanted something from you.

“Scoff, there you are!” Said the last person you wanted to talk to. “I thought you were in the building and spent about an hour searching for you.”

“Tracking device?” You asked, not even looking at him.

“Yep.” Donnie confirmed. “Now, might I inquire why you’re out here?” He glanced at his watch. “And not at your party?”

You stayed quiet.

“Something happen with Eric?”

You gave him nothing.

“I knew it!” He jumped up and cheered. “I was right! I was RIGHT! Ha!”

His every word made you feel colder and more embarrassed.

“I knew from the start! I knew he was untrustworthy!” He continued. “Eat that!”

Finally, he calmed down enough to sit next to you.

“Now, tell me, what did he do?” He leaned close expectantly. “Did he cheat? Did he kiss a girl? Did he try to get with one of your friends? Did he-?”

“He tried to rape me.” You spat out, bringing your knees to your chest.

Well I’m out of room XD

Part four up soon!

#rottmnt x reader #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #rottmnt oneshots #rottmnt leo #rottmnt imagine #rottmnt headcannons #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt x reader

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captaincravatthecapricious · 3 years

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Crutches- Prompt Fill

cw broken bones, food, internalized ableism, dizziness, headaches

Card by the wonderful @celosiaa! I am still accepting bingo prompts! Please send me more because the starred ones are back written already! Send me a prompt and a character and let me know if you want a drawing or writing!

Navigating the London underground on crutches had been trying to say the least. But, Jon has gotten very good at navigating it with his cane, so out of sheer spite, he managed it without incident.

He is still clumsy on them, and by the time he reaches the university, he is more than out of breath, having to stop and use his inhaler before he can reach his classroom. (He will not be sharing that information with Martin, no way. He is Fine, and that would only cause worry, and Martin has enough to worry about being an EMT).

Of course the annoying thing is that he broke his Good leg.

Of course he manages to break his one more functional leg. What a very Jonathan Sims thing to do.

He sighs. He does not want to explain this to his students. (And he certainly doesn’t want to explain this to Tim and Sasha, but of course they are coming over for dinner. Actually… he’s grateful that they don’t already know. Somehow he actually managed to calm Martin down and talk him out of calling them. Jon leaned hard into the look I’m fine! It’s a clean break! It hardly hurts! It’s fine! I’ve had much worse, please don’t fuss! I’m still conscious and everything! Thing.)

Frankly, it’s embarrassing.

He misses the days where he would just… heal.

He might still. Well, he certainly would the old fashion way, but his recovery might be faster than normal. Physical injuries are still a little aided by his connection to the Eye, however weakened that connection might be. Doesn’t do Shit for illnesses, but as much as his EDS causes him to bruise, the bruises don’t stick around for too long.

Just have to wait and see.

His students stare.

Jon shivers.

He tries not to think about the Institute. He tries not to think about the prickle on the back of his neck… the feeling of eyes on him when there was no one around. Don’t be daft, Jonathan, you can see the students right there. You can see their eyes. You are just their odd professor who looks even more haggard and beat up than usual.

He Feels much more haggard than usual. And he’s shaking from the albuterol.

“Professor, what happened?” One of his students ask as he maneuvers the podium so he can drop his bag.

He curses at the lack of chair in the lecture hall. He’s asked for one. Repeatedly. And he’s dragged his office chair in with him before, but… he doesn’t exactly have the hands to do it.

He has to balance on one leg to dig is computer out so he can connect it to the projector.

“I’m fine,” he answers automatically. He was. He is. Just tripped like the idiot he is, and broke his good leg. His bad leg had been throbbing since he got on the tube.

He ignores it.

His students eye him with clear suspicion. Which… Jon would have worried about if… they weren’t perfectly justified.

They had seen him faint many times, pop his hip back in place, watched him dislocate and relocate his arm, and there was the time he had the concussion, and the time he had a migraine and had fainted when someone tapped him on the shoulder, and the time when he had come to class feverish.

These students have called Martin so many times by now.

He deserves those cautions glances. These kids (not really kids, but sue him, they look like kids in his eyes) are ready to call him on his bullshit.

“I fell the other day. I’ll be fine. Just a broken tibia. I’ll be fine in couple months. Let’s get on with the lesson.”

One kid raises their hand, and Jon calls on them. “Yes?”

“Professor Blackwood-Sims, isn’t that your good leg?”

Damn these overly observant students. If only they payed that much attention to his lectures. (No, that’s not fair, they are all good students. The ones who struggle, have good reason to, and Jon has managed to get them to all come talk to him and tell him what they need to do better).

Jon smiles tightly. “Well… it was. Okay, on with the lecture.”

His leg hurts. The not broken one. The broken one… well that hurts a little too, but not nearly as much as the one full of holes. (They are both full of holes, but one was wormed much more thoroughly and hasn’t been the same since.)

Balancing on one leg proves difficult as he’s hit by dizziness. He’s been standing too long. Too long on his bad leg, and the tension and pain have given him a headache bad enough that he’s had one of his students turn off the lights. He can’t face the light of the projector, so he gives the lecture angling away from it.

One of his students offers to run the PowerPoint so he can sit in one of the desks as he teaches, but he turns her down. There are only a few minutes left. He can make it. Then he can get home and take some painkillers and shower before Tim and Sasha come to dinner.

He knows he can cancel, but he doesn’t want to. He’s more dreading having explain what happened.

He reaches the flat quickly enough. He should have time to shower and cook. He hopes.

He swallows some painkillers dry (just a few so he can still take more before bed and not worry Martin by pushing the recommended doses too far) and works his way out of his work clothes while sitting on the bed. It isn’t fun.

He swallows his pride and uses the shower seat. He hates it. He hates that he needs it, yes, but honestly it’s more an issue with the textured plastic under his naked skin. It feels… wrong. Both because it reminds him of the circus, and because it’s just a bad texture. It also feels gross… as in unclean. He cleans it vigorously often, but it still doesn’t feel clean to him.

Between the headache, and the dizziness from the hot water and several nights of poor sleep (from nightmares and trying to sleep with a cast on which gave him More nightmares), and the pain in both his legs, Jon fights back the darkness around the edges of his vision.

He will Not pass out now.

No.

Will not happen. No thank you. No.

He fights to keep upright and conscious. And, surprisingly, wins that battle. He sits on the bed again while dressing, and while braiding his hair.

It takes him a long time. There is a lot of hair to work with, and his scalp hurts with the intensity of his headache. He also dallies, the more time this takes, the longer he can sit. He should consider dragging a chair in front of the counter and a chair in front of the stove. That could make cooking less painful.

Well, in some ways.

The unnatural angles are hell on his wrists when chopping.

Lesser of two evils, however, he supposes.

Shit. He isn’t going to have time to finish dinner by the time Tim and Sasha arrive.

And Martin isn’t going to be home for another hour. He knows, he knows (not Knows, though), that they won’t mind. Tim might even Help him cook, but… he doesn’t like being a bother. He wants… well frankly he wants to erase the years of hurt with food (Christ, Martin has worn off on him. Not that he minds. He loves Martin).

The sauce is almost done, but he hasn’t even started the pasta by the time Tim’s voice drifts through the door. Sing-song and loud. No knocking (thankfully).

Jon hates that he needs the crutches to get to the door. He hates that his vision is swimming by then too. The painkillers took the edge off the pain, but can’t do much about the other stresses on Jon’s mortal frame.

“Be there in a moment, or you can just let yourself in,” Jon calls back. He has to pause and lean on the wall. This is all very irritating.

Apparently, Tim had already been halfway through unlocking the door, because he’s in before Jon can even finish the sentence.

“Jesus, Jon, what did you do this time?” Sasha exclaims, quickly, but gracefully pulling off her coat, hanging it on one of the hooks by the door. It’s less a question than a statement.

“Hello Sasha, Tim. Dinner isn’t quite ready, but it’s not too far away. In the meantime there’s wine. Martin will be here soon, but his shift isn’t over yet.” His eyes are closed. Head tilted back against the wall. The room finally stops spinning around him.

“What did you even do?” Tim this time.

Jon… doesn’t meet his eyes. He knows he is blushing, but there isn’t much to be done about that. He mumbles. He doesn’t know why. He knows it won’t work. Shoving out the words too fast to be understood.

“What was that Jonny?” That is a cackle. Tim is cackling. Tim, is very irritating… but he does love him, even when he’s teasing.

“Tripped over my cane.” Jon says as quickly and quietly as possible.

“Only you, buddy. Only You, could do something like that. Now PLEASE SIT DOWN BEFORE YOU FALL OVER. I can finish making dinner!” Tim herds him to a chair. In the kitchen, because Jon knows that Tim knows Jon won’t actually relax on the couch or the bed if he’s told to.

“Okay, Jon, what’s left to do… No buts! This smells amazing and I can’t fuck up pasta, probably. At least I assume you planned pasta, because there is a box on the counter.” Sasha says this brandishing aforementioned pasta.

Sasha makes him tea. Tim makes the pasta. (Tim is absolutely the chief between the two of them.)

“When did you last have painkillers?” Tim asks.

“Not too long ago. Really I’m fine.”

Tim hmmms.

Jon finds himself nodding off at the table by the time Martin comes home.

He knows he’s being talked about.

“Hey, sweetheart. Hey?”

Jon sleepily raises his head from the table. “Sorry, I went to work.”

“Love, I thought you were going to Zoom in today.” Martin doesn’t sound Angry. But he doesn’t sound happy about this. In Jon’s defense, he did say he would see how he felt, and he felt fine in the morning.

Jon whines, he hates disappointing Martin.

“We can talk about that tomorrow.” Martin presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Hey! No sleeping until we eat!” Tim. Mock serious. Although he will be very serious if Jon tries to skive off to sleep without some food.

“Dinner, then I vote we cuddle Jon until he gets some rest!” Sasha this time.

Just like old times.

He knows he will be teased for How he broke his leg. He knows he and Martin will have a serious chat about him pushing himself.

But for now there is food, and cheer, and his loved ones.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #timsasha #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #sasha james #tim stoker #timothy stoker #cw internalized ableism #cw food #cw injury #my writing #my words #my art #my fic #fic

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c-atm · 3 years

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G-squared: The genin exam

Hello!" Steven cheered at the five in front of him. Connie, Daniel, Patricia, Peedee, and Jeff sat in a wilderness-like area created by the C.A.R ( Customizable Alternative Reality) orb.

"This magitech is amazing," Jeff started, amazed,

"It is a portable gem room..along with other things," Connie declared proudly before turning to Steven," Nice hat and robes, Mister."

"Thank you," Steven smirked, giving a small puff of his pipe, blowing a bubble.

"Yeah, you are looking kind of important there, Steve," Danny smirked.

"That's because I am the Kage of the village hidden in the Diamond! Hidden in the land of gems; The DaiyamondoKage."

"Oh my God, we're doing Boruto!" Tricia exclaimed

"That or Boruto's dad Shippuden." Peedee quipped. "So, which number are you?"

"The fifth, all nepotism." Steven nodded coolly.

"So you're the one percent!" Jeff pointed, "time to pull a coup."

That got a laugh out of everyone before Steven spoke again.

"So, you guys are-"

"Anbu, black ops." Connie interrupted with a smile.

"Freshly made child-labor…." Steven counted, "also known as Genin...You're about 12-13 in this."

"13…" Jeff answered, "That Anbu age in the leaf."

"This isn't the leaf village. ANBU: Crystal gems gotta be at least 15 here."

"Where our headbands?" Danny inquired.

"They ain't made yet." Steven shrugged," anywho, you guys are team 265.2"

"Wait, what? How many people graduated this year?!" Jeff screamed," and why is there a point two?"

"Enough, and you and Peedee are the point two."

"What the hell?"

"Stop pausing the scenario!" Steven ordered.

"Ok, so what are we going to do here, Daikage?" Connie chuckled.

"Right. You five are gonna be tasked with meeting your sensei at the entrance of the wilderness of the lost."

"Wait?" Trica exclaimed.

"What?" Peedee added.

"Guessing we are currently in the wilderness of the lost?" Connie joked.

"As expected from the heiress of the Maheswaran family, carrier of the Maheswarigan."

"Hell yeah! Kekkei Genkai!" Connie raised her gust with a laugh, "So what do my eyes do?!"

"Now, what makes you think it's an eye Jutsu?"

"Sharingan, Rinnegan, Tenseigan, Byakugan…"

"Her sight is 'gan,' all 'gan!'" Tricia yelled in jest as she and Connie laughed.

"W-what the fuck?" Peedee laughed.

"Calm down; all will be revealed In time.." Steven smiled, "So as we stated, we have Connie Maheswaran of the Maheswarigan. Next, puppet user Jeff of the sand."

"Ey! Puppet master on deck!" Jeff cheered, "What my puppet looks like, Dai-kage?!"

Steven grinned, tossing Jeff a doll.

"OH, Screw you, Universe." Peedee kissed his teeth, holding back a laugh, looking at the Frybo plush in Jeff's hand.

"Horrifying power!" Jeff roared out, chuckling.

"Speaking of Peedee, we have Peedee Frymichi."

"FRYMICHI!?" Peedee shook his head, "let me guess, soldier pills?"

"Soldier fries, but you also have body temperature Jutsu, which allows you to increase or decrease your body temperature to superhuman degrees."

"I…" Peedee shrugged. "I have no retort; that's actually pretty cool."

"See... Next, we have Patricia of the sound."

"So we have both a sound and sand on the same team. Where do you get these kids from?" Danny laughed.

"You don't need to know what a Kage does." Steven retorted, "above your pay grade."

"Daikage, what can I do?" Patricia inquired with a smirk. "What, my Jutsu?"

"You play the triangle."

"A~and?"

"Umm." Steven shrugged, " I don't know. I leave it to you."

"Oh, that bull." The bespectacled woman turned her lips, "Everyone else got an explanation of their special Jutsu, and all I get is ' triangle. '"

"Still don't know what my eyes can do," Connie muttered.

"You have a bloodline limit! You don't get to complain."

"I gave you free rein to make your own ability, be happy." Steven countered, "last we have D of the Cloud."

"Is anybody literally from this village!?." Danny questioned.

"Not a single one of you, anywho..." Steven answered smugly, "You guys make up Team 265.2."

"265.2!?" Connie laughed.

"The further this scenario goes, the more questions it raises." Jeff exclaimed, "Why is the number so high, and why isn't a full number?"

"...You guys are tasked," Steven started ignoring the question, getting howls and laughter of opposition from the group, "Your kage is talking!"

"I was stolen from my village. I refute your leadership!" Jeff yelled.

"Never asked to be a ninja; I wanted to be a fry cook." Peedee wailed, "my parents wanted me to be a nin!"

"I got a triangle. Diii~iing!" Tricia taunted.

"I was told this was a student exchange program," Danny complained.

"I was told money was involved." Connie started, "plus tragic anime backstory shit."

"I will send you all back to the academy!" Steven challenged.

"Go ahead, do it!" Peedee challenged, starting a chorus of disobedience from the rest towards Steven, who rubbed his head to keep from laughing.

"All right, Alright, Steven...Daikage-Sama." Connie batted her eyes in flirtatious teasing, "how does this work?"

"See, at least one of you is grateful."

"I'm happy to be out of the dungeon."

The rest looked at her, a bit horrified.

"I am going for tragic anime character; stop judging me."

“I...Don’t have a dungeon.” Steven stated, chuckling, “But that is neither here nor there. Now ninjas need to be both smart and strong. The lost shall test that, for you are tasked with getting out of the wilderness and back to the village within nine hours or turns. Actions also cost hours, as do hints... If you fail, you will not be recognized as ninjas and…." He let it hang.

"What?"

"You'll find out…."

"Ohhh!..I'm not too fond of that...I don't like that at all." Jeff snorted while chuckling.

"Just don't fail. Hehe. Now to begin, you guys need to make a decision. North. south, east, or west.”

“Where do each lead?” Danny inquired.

“Where indeed?”

“We’re going west,” Connie stated.

“Hold on, why do you get to make the decision?”

“Because I'm from this place, Cloudie.”

“I say we go north,” Patricia stated.

“Naw, let’s go south.” Jeff challenged.

“My nose says we go east..” Peedee offered,” Where’s there’s food, there are people.”

“Frybo and I say south.”

“My Maheswarigan is showing me the way, and it’s west.”

“My triangle rings to the northern border.”

Steven just laughed at their arguing.

“It doesn't matter, does it?” Daniel scratched his chin, looking at Steven, who just shrugged,

"Choose wrong, and you waste an hour."

''...We're going north."

"That two for north, two for the south."

"Two for sou~? YOU'RE COUNTING THE PUPPET VOTE!?" Peedee yelled.

"Hey, Frybo is a part of the 265.2." Jeffed defended the doll

"Frybo is a puppet from hell, deserving to be cast into the deepest fryer in the nine hells!" Peedee pointed. "I'm saying north just out of spite."

Steven stood looking at Connie to see if she changed her vote. "Well...You go north, moving deeper into the Lost ." Steven announced as the area scene shifted and darkened.

"See!? We should have gone south! Now we lost an hour." Jeff yelled, "Follow Frybo. For he knows the way."

- riiiing-riiiing-

"The hell is that?" Connie asked, a bit annoyed at the ringing.

"Doesn't matter; we're heading south," Jeff stated.

"You guys heading south?" Steven questioned, getting nods all around. "You head south...and find yourself back here."

- riiiing-riiiing-

"Now we are down to eight hours!" Danny yelled.

"Just saying if we went south, we would be halfway home."

"I'm pressing X to doubt." Peedee poked Jeff's cheek.

- Riiiing-Riiiing-

"What the hell is that ringing?!" Danny yelled,

"Wanna hint?" Steven asked,

"Can we get hints?" Jeff inquired,

"Did you not pay attention...Yes, hints cost an hour as Jutsu." Steven sighed

"Please, hint us!"

"You suuure…? It Costs an hour."

- Riiiiiiiing-Riiiiiiiing-

"Oh, God. It's getting more piercing...Give us a hint!"

"What are the three types of Jutsu?" Steven grinned.

"Nin, Tai, and…" Connie turned to Tricia, " Play with your triangle."

"Wow, beautiful phrasing, " Tricia laughed.

"Oh my Shiva! Get your head out of the gutter and dispel the Genjutsu."

"So demanding too." Tricia chuckled more before ringing her instrument with a -Diiingg-diinnng!- The area lit up three paths were shown to the crew.

" North, West, or East?" Steven grinned, "since you used a hint and dispelled the Genjutsu, you lost two hours...Soo six hours left."

"OH my God, we blew through nearly half our time already!" Connie rubbed her temples. " Can I use my special eyes, Mister Daikage?" Connie batted her eyes.

"You wanna use the Heartful glance." Steve chuckled, " Ok, so for this game, you can use your eyes twice since you have two."

"Ingenious." Peedee taunted.

"That's why your parents' food shop failed to feed the Akimichi appetite," Steven noted nonchalantly.

"Wow, Daikage is petty,' Peedee blinked before the group started to laugh.

"Anyway, two times for your special eyes, your right eye grants your guys an auto turn. No hour lost. Right answer only."

" Oh shit, that..that's a bit OP for this." Jeff stated, "What does the right eye do?"

"Best to save that for later, hehe."

"Shit, I'm using the left Maheswarigan," Connie announced with pride.

"You go east." The area shifted again as Steve spoke, this time displaying a creek and two paths. One of wood, and the other wildflowers in bloom. "So you guys can take a chance with the creek. Drink the water, try to fish...Set up camp..replenish yourself before moving on."

"Wait, wait...Why do you say chance , as if something horrible can happen? "

"Because everything can lead to death in the ninja world."

"If you don't have Talk-no-Jutsu," Danny interjected.

"I mean, yeah, that is the most powerful skill in Naruto." Tricia nodded, "allows him to hold the world hostage."

"Wait, what?" Peedee questioned.

"Thank you, I know I couldn't be the only one thinking that." Danny exclaimed, "that's the only reason I can see Orochimaru not getting fucked up every day."

"Cause of Naruto? How does that work? "

"Discuss the fucking loophole that is the sound and leaf shadow relationship on your own time!" Steven clapped, getting their attention.

"Ok, so how is this gonna work?" Peedee inquired.

"Depends, what you're going to do...Going to rest, or going to move on? If you stay..you have a chance to stock another free turn, via Connie getting to use her left eye again if...and I'll even throw in the chance of making this a free turn, if things go your way."

"Yo, camping out. Risk it for the biscuit." Danny offered.

"Hold on...Steven, what if we fuck up." Tricia narrowed her eyes.

"If it is bad, you lose two hours. If it is not so bad, it's a normal turn."

Connie pursed her lips and turned to the others, "risk it?"

The group nodded.

"So you're resting. Ok, So, are you going to drink...or are you gonna try to fish? If you try to fish, that's a chance for a free turn and Connie's left eye."

"Which also can lead us to lose two hours if we mess up."

"Yup. Just drinking can grant Connie her eye...If you don't mess up."

"And how do we mess up drinking at a creek?" Jeff taunted.

"Coin flip." Steven grinned, showing a coin app on his phone " fishing is a bit more complicated; you have to choose the right teammates to get fish and prepare the fish, plus a coin flip, but two free hours."

"We're fishing." Connie challenged, "Ninjas need to be fearless." The group nodded in agreement.

"OK, Who's fishing?"

The group stood before looking at each other.

"I would like to remind you that previously used Jutsu can't be used for at least three hours unless replenished. So Tricia's triangle is currently unavailable until the next turn."

"Well, thought she could Genjutsu the fish." Jeff stated, "What does Connie's right eye do?"

"...Sure you wanna use the right Maheswarigan, now?"

"...Not anymore," Peedee stated, seeing Steven's evil grin. "We're gonna pocket that."

"Jeff, use Frybo to get us some fish, puppet man." Connie smacked her friend back.

"Yeah! Puppeteer, that bitch." Peedee added.

"Puppeteer, that bitch." Jeff shook his head, chuckling, "Steven, I puppeteer the bitch to get the fish."

"That's gonna stick." Steven smirked, "that being said...Good choice. Frybo enters the creek and gets a fish for each member of the team. A.K.A Jeff puppeteered the bitch and got ya some fish."

"Steven swear! Not a G-Squared ep without one." Tricia laughed, pumping her fist.

"Ok, so who gonna-"

"Peedee." The group stated.

"Me, food is my specialty." Peedee smirked, "and I use my body temperature Jutsu for cooking the fish."

"Fair enough...I was hoping you messed up." Steven shrugged, "but naw, you got your free turn, and Connie got her Jutsu."

"My special eyes!" Connie roared, "Full power!"

Ok, so you guys ate, you're replenished." Steven grinned, "Wildflowers or Woodlands? Where we going?

The group looked at each other.

" Woodlands," Connie stated.

"Why would you choose Woodlands over wildflowers? Look at them dark, horrifying woods…." Peedee argued.

"The wildflowers could be a lie...LIE, I SAY!"

"This is some tragic anime story shit. We're going through wildflowers." Tricia stated.

"I'm with Connie on this one; it's definitely woodlands." Danny nodded her a high-five, "what you say, Jeff, flowers or woods."

" I sayyy…"

_________________________

Steven: And that is where we end this episode. What happened next, do they become genin of my village...SSSHHH~HMMM. That will be seen, but until you next time, G-squared Breakout. Oh, and remember, in life you sometimes have to puppeteer the bitch and get ya some fish.

#steven universe #connie maheswaran #daniel su #patricia su #peedee fryman #jeff su #connverse #steven universe future #steven universe fanfiction #steven and connie #older steven #older connie #fighting flirty #comedy #G-Squared

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Welcome To Backwater ch.3 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch is getting out and meeting new people, if only things weren’t a little...ominous.

Content: Spicyhoney, Midwest Gothic

~~*~~

Read Chapter Three on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

The thing was, Stretch had never really lived on his own. For most of his life, he’d lived with his brother. Taking care of Blue when he was a kiddo, then sort of swapping roles for a while as they got older. By the time they were on the surface, they had a pretty good give and take going when it came to cohabitation. Living with his bro was never the problem.

It was moving back in with him after everything went down that was the hard part. His sympathy felt more like stifling pity, the relentless cheer Stretch normally adored was grating, and as much as Stretch loved his brother, (and he did, his brother was the coolest and fuck anyone who didn’t see that), he just…he couldn’t. Not right now.

That all came to a head and landed him on the midnight bus to anywhere and living here essentially alone was turning into a balancing act between being necessarily solitary and lonely enough to start befriending the local spooks, and now look at him.

Standing in Red’s living room and armed with a lamp shaped like a flamingo, probably about to be murdered for the hundred bucks in the front register and Red’s shitty microwave, and his first stupid thought was, holy shit, he’s gorgeous.

Not that it wasn’t a valid thought, but it didn’t do much to better the situation. A skeleton Monster (another one? really?) that was almost as tall as he was, but instead of Stretch’s scrawny bod and knobby knees poking out of his cargo shorts, this guy looked like he’d just stepped out of GQ’s leather edition, available only with a valid ID. From those slender hips with all the right curves all the way up to the delicate intricacies of his cervical vertebra, he was like a book written in braille, begging for a touch. Those cheekbones alone were sharp enough to do more damage than any damn lamp, fuck, he should have to carry a weapons license for those things, they were sure as hell giving Stretch a good stab in the libido.

Mystery guy only stood there in Red living room, cool and calm in spite of the fact he was wearing a sleek leather jacket and knee-high damn motorcycle boots, (fuck, those legs), on a sweltering day. Didn’t even bother to pull his hands out of his jeans pockets, like he was hanging around patiently for a fucking takeout order instead of starring in a home invasion.

The guy raised a browbone, and fuck, how did even the scar running through his socket seem sexy? “Well?” Mystery Man said, “Nothing else to say?”

That broke the spell. Well, kinda, holy shit, take two. That voice, it was almost rich enough to pour into a cup, but damn, if Sugar Tongue here dusted Red, what was Stretch gonna tell the cops? That he was too busy getting seduced by those dark molasses wiles to do anything about it?

Stretch brandished the lamp again and blustered out, “i asked you first!”

The guy sighed heavily and for half an idiot second, Stretch felt bad for disappointing him. “If we’re going to continue down this path of childish competition, then I was here first. Would you care to offer a rebuttal? Or is that word too complicated for you, I’d make an attempt to bring it down to your level, but I don’t have the time to journey back out of the realm of stupidity today.”

That was enough to snap him out of this guy’s erotic stupidity spell. Great, he was a murderer and a dick, Stretch should’ve known. No one with hips like that could be on the side of good. He raised the lamp again threateningly, flamingo-beak facing front, “the only butt around here is gonna be yours when i kick it!”

The guy only rolled his eye lights, deep crimson, huh, how about that. “Ah, how refreshing it is to have a chance to engage in such cunning debate,” he drawled. “But as enchanting as this has been, let me interrupt the vigilante plotline you seem to be starting. I’m only here to drop off a package for my brother.”

“brother?” Stretch parroted dumbly. Oh. Ohhhhh, for fuck’s sake he was an idiot. Red eye lights, skeleton monster, all he was missing was a fucking name tag that said, ‘Red’s Tall Brother, Please Do Not Ambush.’

Well, that was one way to make a first impression.

Stretch sheepishly lowered the lamp, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “oh. uh, sorry about that, i’m a little on edge.”

“On edge, are you,” the guy repeated. One corner of his mouth pulled upward in a sardonic little smile, another sign of the unfairness of life that it only made him look even more appealing, if that were possible. Sex on legs and that voice? Some guys cheated to role for charisma twice was all Stretch was saying. “Ah, aren’t life’s little ironies precious.”

Before Stretch could figure out what the heck that meant, he heard the familiar thump and bump of Red hurrying down the hallway. The door was flung open hard enough to bounce against the opposite wall and Red paused in the doorway, taking in the scene. His brother standing there is all his sexy glory, completely unconcerned and weaponless, and Stretch still sweaty and disheveled from trekking through the heat outside, standing there with a lamp in his hands trying to look like he hadn’t been ready to bonk the guy on the noggin like the first chapter of an Agatha Christie novel.

Red was snickering before Stretch could even scramble for any sort of excuse, “whatcha gonna do with the lamp, armstrong, knock his lights out?”

“i was improvising,” Stretch mumbled. He plunked the hideous thing back on the table, fumbling to plug it back in. "you didn't tell me you had a brother."

"no?” Red set both hands on the top of his cane to lean against it and innocent was not a voice he wore well, nope. “musta slipped my mind."

"Your mind is ever slippery, brother," said brother put forth in a clipped tone, "Somehow, you managed to forget to mention this…person…to me as well."

"and 'cause i did you got to have an excitin' first meeting,” Red said, abandoning innocence for pure mischief. He gave them both a broad wink, “ain't that right?"

About the only thing Stretch and this guy had in common was the mutual dirty looks they gave back to that.

“only if you get your thrills from a criminal sort of meet and greet,” Stretch said.

"Yes," the brother said irritably, "Very exciting. And now that we’ve all confirmed who I am, would you care to explain who this is?”

Red’s grin widened, his gold tooth winking in the mellow sunlight streaming in through the tatty curtains. “my new clerk.”

“Your—” That irritation melted into horror as the guy’s spine went ruler-straight as if someone jammed a yardstick up his ass before he blustered out, “have you lost your tiny little mind?”

Stretch couldn’t help feeling a little insulted. It was a little grocery store, not the Ritz, they didn’t need all their cheese on the crackers to manage selling ‘em, thanks.

Red didn’t seem bothered by his brother’s disbelief, he only shrugged, “nah. don’t think so, anyway.” Then with a touch of acid, “not like you’re around long enough to find out.”

His brother ignored that. Seemed like he was still stuck on Red’s audacity in hiring a clerk. “You have,” he said wonderingly, “You’ve completely lost your mind this time. And you’re keeping him right here in the house?”

“room upstairs, but yeah.” Red sucked on his teeth loudly, grinning his wide, feral grin. “got a problem with that, little brother?”

Conversation briefly ceased as they both seemed to be trying to communicate in glares and Stretch didn’t know enough of the language to interpret, but he didn’t think it was going well. Especially not when the tall drink of brother abruptly turned to him and said, “Go get your things.”

Stretch only gaped at him, too surprised to even protest, of all the fucking arrogance—!

“Go get your things,” he repeated, a touch louder and flavored with a dash of impatience, “and I’ll take you to the bus depot right now.”

“you’re serious,” Stretch said in disbelief. He shook his head with a short laugh, “heh, sorry, champ, not going anywhere on your say-so. besides, i just got here, if i leave now, I’ll never get voted prom queen.”

The other guy’s face didn’t so much as twitch and intensity in that crimson gaze made Stretch want to look away. He resisted, meeting that glare defiantly, even as he said, quietly, “If you stay long enough, leaving won’t be an option.”

Stretch only snorted, seriously, what was with this guy? “and you’re calling your brother a nut?”

He didn’t bother to answer that one, only swung around and pointed an accusing finger in Red’s direction. “This is on you, brother.”

Red only gave him that easy, sharky grin back. “always was.”

Stretch thought that was the end of it. The guy nodded shortly and started towards the door, brushing past Stretch to get to it and that was where he paused. He turned towards Stretch, those red eye lights moving over him searchingly. The end table with its returned lamp was at Stretch’s back, there was nowhere to go as Red’s brother loomed into his personal space, leaning in uncomfortably close, only inches away from Stretch’s collarbone as he sniffed delicately.

“Hm,” he said thoughtfully.

Stretch resisted the urge to give his armpits a testing sniff. “what?”

But he only drew away and gave Red another unreadable look. Red nodded once.

What. The. Fuck?

“Fine,” the guy sighed out. His hands curled into brief fists, sharpened fingertips pressed into his palms. “It’s your problem, brother, you deal with it.”

“don’t i always?”

“Perhaps with the least amount of property damage possible, if you don’t mind.” He gave Stretch another dismissive half-glance. “Now if you’ll excuse me, brother."

He turned and started to walk off and yeesh, even the way he walked caught the eye, damn, hate to see you leave, love to watch those hips go.

Down boy, Stretch told his libido. There was enough weird shit going on and he really didn’t need to take another hike down that path. Besides, with hot stuff constantly looking at him like something to be scraped off the bottom of his shoe, it wasn’t exactly opening the door for romance. He’d had his fill of assholes, a lifetime’s worth, and just case it might be a question, Stretch proved he was still an enormous idiot by calling to that leather-clad back, “didn’t catch your name.”

The guy didn’t even pause. “Then next time you should be a better hunter.”

With that he was out the apartment door. Stretch and Red stood there and listened to the cow bell jangling loudly, the door slamming, and then the roar of an engine speeding away.

Only then did Red speak again, with laconic ease, “if you’re done staring at my baby bro’s ass, y’can come eat with me.”

“i—" wasn’t, Stretch started to say, then shrugged. Busted. “don’t worry, i don’t think i’m his type.”

“don’t think too hard, gonna hurt yourself,” Red said, dry as a mouthful of sand. “what’s the problem, don’t think you got the right size font?”

“let’s not get into that, it’ll take too long,” Stretch tossed back. “and don’t take this the wrong way but your brother is a dick.”

“yeah,” Red said fondly, “ain’t he great? now, before you tried to light up my bro’s life, i was setting up for dinner. if you grab that bag, you can have some, too.”

Stretch followed where Red pointed with his cane to find an insulated bag sitting by the sofa, black because fuck knew Fonzie’s stunt double needed matching accessories. He lugged the bag along as he followed Red back down the hallway into the store, setting it on the counter while Red struggled into the chair. There were a couple of dusty bowls already sitting there next to the beers and Red gave them a cursory wipe with a rag of dubious cleanliness.

“my bro got his own place a while back,” Red unzipped the bag and pulled out a large ceramic casserole dish. “but he still drops off food for me coupla times a week. says that eating at ‘mama’s’ along with a double daily dose of mac and cheese ain’t healthy.”

Stretch watched, reluctantly intrigued. “he doesn’t stick around for dinner?”

“nah, my bro has kinda a special diet.” Red pulled the lid off and steam rose out, along with the gorgeous, rich smell of sinfully delicious food. Long greenish noodles drenched in some sort of glistening sauce with chunks of more green and purple veggies mixed in, and dusted with a heavy sprinkle of parmesan. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything like what they brought to the table at Olive Garden.

Stretch inhaled deeply, his mouth already watering. “holy shit, he cooked this?”

“cooked it, hell,” Red spooned out portions, uncaring about the little drips that fell on the counter and pushing the first bowl over to Stretch. “he makes the pasta by hand. planted the veggies, too, like he’s fucking ol’ macdonald on his farm. he made that stew i gave ya the first night, too.”

Stretch barely heard him because he’d already taken his first bite and had he really thought Red’s brother looked sexy? He was wrong, totally wrong, because this was the sexy, this delectably orgasmic taste exploding across his tongue in a blend of garlic and vinaigrette, carried on perfectly al dente noodles mingling with the bright crunch of zucchini and beets. It was hard not to moan aloud as he chewed down that first bite and went back for another.

“is he single? i changed my mind, holy fuck, i’m gonna marry him and chain him to the stove,” Thoughtlessly said around a mouthful of deliciousness and Stretch winced as he realized what he said, “sorry, sorry, bad joke.”

Red only slurped up more noodles, teeth glistening with oil and the long strands flinging droplets of sauce as he sucked them in. “he’s single, but good luck putting a leash on him. go ahead, ask him out next time he stops by. i could use a good laugh, ‘cause, honey, you two hooking up would be a joke.”

Absurdly stung, Stretch shrugged and tried on a laugh, “hey, i’m a hell of a catch. gainfully employed and everything.”

“oh, yeah, you’re the seafood special, all right.” Red’s sharp teeth sheared easily through the noodles as he took another bite. “rebound fucks never work out, kid.”

“how did you—" Stretch stopped with a groan as Red raised both brow bones mockingly. He slumped back over his bowl, twirling up noodles on his fork. “yeah, yeah, handed that over with gift wrap.”

“yep, you did.” Red clapped Stretch on the shoulder with enough force to make him drop his fork. “the list of reasons people end up in the middle of nowhereville is pretty fucking short, kid, an’ you got that look. don’t worry ‘bout it, you got a place to stay here as long as you want.”

The unexpected kindness from Red of all people made him blink hard, but then, that wasn’t really giving him a fair shake, was it, not when he’d given Stretch a job to begin with and kept him semi-fed. “thanks.”

“don’t mention it, to anyone.” Red said dryly. He sucked down the last of the noodles and pushed the bowl away with a sigh. “gonna ruin my rep. make you a deal, air conditioning’s better down here. if you wanna watch tv in my place, y’can go ahead, if,” he stressed, “if ya call your brother. bet he’s out of his mind worried by now.”

“how—” Stretch shut his mouth hard enough for his teeth to click together. Red only looked serenely back, the chair creaking as he leaned back and laced his hands together over his middle. He looked away, not wanting to see what else might shine knowingly in those crimson eye lights. “i’ll text him.”

“good enough,” Red said agreeably. He pulled a can of beer off the plastic ring and popped it open, gulping some down and belching with mellow contentment. “where the fuck did you go earlier, i been waiting on these beers.”

Stretch’s bowl was empty and he ran a finger along the inside of it, licking away the smear of leftover sauce. “to see a movie.”

Red’s mouth opened in a silent ‘ah’. “didja say hi to doris?”

That was not what Stretch expected. “i…yes. you’ve seen her?” Stupid to think Red hadn’t, he’d been here for a long time, hard to believe he’d never stepped into the theater and any Monster with half a gram of sense would’ve noticed her.

“sure, loads of times,” Red said, confirming it. “sweet gal. don’t be offended if she don’t remember you right away, she’s gotta little problem with short term memory.” He pointed a finger at his temple and let his thumb drop like the hammer on a gun. “keep stoppin’ in and eventually you’ll stick. takes her a mo’ when i stop by, but she gets there.”

“good to know.” And it was. Any faint, stupid hurt that he wasn’t the first Monster in Doris’s unlife was a little eased by that tidbit. He probably would’ve been more upset if he went to see her again tomorrow and had to go through the intros again without it.

“okay, g’wan, get outta here,” Red shoved a beer in Stretch’s direction and waved him off. “just remember, wheel of fortune is on at 7.”

Stretch took the dirty bowls with him along with the serving dish, giving them a quick wash and setting them into Red’s already overflowing dish drainer. He spent the rest of the afternoon on the saggy sofa in the living room, watching reruns of ‘MASH’ and ‘Little House On the Prairie’ until Red closed shop for the Wheel.

That night Stretch had a strange dream. Vast trees towering over him and unstable ground beneath his feet. He stood in a puddle of ragged moonlight and when red eyes loomed out of the darkness, he met their stare and didn’t run. Not even when he saw the huge, dark shape that contained them, jagged white teeth in a gaping maw that gnashed and slavered, ready to consume him. The shape leapt at him and he couldn’t move, trapped by that gaze. He woke with a gasp before it landed, waking with a scream tangled up on his throat, clammy sheets sticking to his sweaty bones.

He lay for a moment on the thin mattress, catching his breath. His window was covered, had been since his second night here and he’d found an old blanket in his closet, tacked it up to keep out the blistering heat of the noontime sun. Now it kept out the midnight darkness and he didn’t even glance at it as he rolled to his feet and headed into the bathroom to splash cold water on his sweaty face.

He set both damp hands on the sides of the sink and looked at his dripping reflection. The only shadows in this room were the ones beneath his sockets. His skull was pale, his eye lights pinpricks of diffused white.

“liar,” he whispered to his reflection and watched as it whispered it silently back.

But that was one shipment of guilt he could offload right now.

Stretch shuffled back out and scooped his phone off the nightstand. He ignored the messages, the voicemails, and only tapped out a message of his own, hitting send before he could think of an excuse not to.

i’m okay, little brother, i’m safe. i’ll call soon.

It wasn’t a lie. Soon was relative, just like brothers.

He sank back down on his damp sheets and didn’t bother to turn out the lights.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #underswap sans #welcome to backwater

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pandoraborn · 3 years

Text

Throw me to the ground (and watch me fly).

Also found on AO3!

Chapter one

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

It’s the day of the election. Wilbur is nervous, standing on the stage as they await the ballots being counted. He’s wearing his L’Manburg uniform proudly, standing tall. His youngest brother, Tommy, is standing by his side with a matching uniform. Tommy’s wings are folded around his shoulders, and he’s twiddling his fingers nervously, trying to stand up straight. He may only be sixteen years of age, but Tommy has done more for L’Manburg than anyone realizes. Wilbur knows Tommy wants to make everyone proud; it’s written all over the boy’s face. Tommy wants the position of Vice President more than even Wilbur realizes.

Wilbur’s own wings are outstretched as he stands proudly, trying to represent his country as best as he can. He’s staring out at the crowd, trying to ignore the podium on the other side of the stage. His closest friend and opponent, Schlatt, is standing at that podium. Schlatt doesn’t have a running mate, but he had cited not needing one, since he had been confident in his abilities to run L’Manburg on his own. With the aura he radiates, no one had cast him any doubts.

Wilbur especially believes in him. Schlatt had always been loud and commanding. With his sense of humor, sharp sense of fashion, and tall demeanor, people had been willing to bend at the knee for the goat hybrid. Hell, there were a few times that Wilbur himself wouldn’t have minded stepping down to give Schlatt the leadership he probably deserved.

This election had been the solution to that. Wilbur’s confident in his own leadership skills. People respect him and his innate ability to rule fairly, and that respect had risen since he announced an election. Schlatt had been the only one to step up to run against him. They’d kept it friendly, not delving too deep into the toxicity that normally came with politics. They’d agreed that they’d compete against each other with the friendliest of banters, and it had worked wonders. Thus far, the voters seem to be split down the middle.

Now they all stand at their respective podiums, awaiting the results. George is the one counting the ballots, with Niki to help him with anything he might’ve missed. Wilbur can’t tell how close the election is, but he hopes he and Tommy are winning. This is, after all, their country.

After what feels like hours, George moves to the front to stand in front of the microphone. Niki hangs around backstage to lean up, and Wilbur sneaks a glance over his shoulder to smile at her. She doesn’t see him, too caught up in her own job. She disappears behind a door, and Wilbur faces front again to tune in to George’s words.

Next to him, Tommy finally spreads his wings, clearly trying to look as proud as Wilbur. In his peripheral vision, he can see Tommy glancing up at him, so Wilbur places a hand on his brother’s shoulder, silently reassuring him. The gentle touch and unspoken command are heard; Tommy’s exhaling slowly, and straightening his spine, facing out toward the crowd, much like Wilbur is doing now.

“Nihachu and I counted,” George states, waving a small envelope in his hands. “We have tallied all the ballots and counted them a few times to double-check, but we have a very clear winner. The people knew exactly who they wanted.”

George pauses in his speech to grin first at the current president and vice president, then turning to grin at their opponent. Schlatt clears his throat and adjusts his tie before placing his hands on the podium. Wilbur can see Schlatt’s fingers are trembling. Wilbur wishes he could call out a reassurance, but George is speaking again.

“The new president of L’Manburg,” George begins, pulling a notecard out of the envelope, “Is Jonathan Schlatt!”

There’s a cheer that raises up from the crowd, with a few people even jumping from their seats, as if that would help them cheer louder. Wilbur doesn’t let himself wilt, though he’s sure his expression reveals his disappointment. Next to him, Tommy’s wings lower in visible disappointment, nearly dragging on the ground. The boy’s head is bowed, and even amid the cheering, Wilbur can hear ragged breathing.

Keeping his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, he takes a step back. This drags Tommy back as well. Tommy doesn’t resist the tug, letting himself be tugged off the stage completely. It’s Schlatt’s turn to speak.

“I don’t understand,” Tommy whispers. He looks up at Wilbur with watery eyes, so Wilbur pulls him into a hug, even wrapping his wings around his brother. “We should have won, this was… we built this country! We did this with our bare hands, we should have… fuck!”

“He won a fair election,” Wilbur reminds him. “This is still our country, really. We just have to trust Schlatt to run it with the same ideals we created. Trust him, Tommathy.”

Tommy grins faintly, reaching up to flick a tear away. “I hate it when you call me that. But yeah, you’re right. I trust him.”

“Good lad.” Wilbur ruffles his hair before pulling back, taking Tommy by the hand to lead him back to the crowd. Schlatt hasn’t begun his speech yet, he seems to have been waiting for this moment. Wilbur meets the new president’s gaze and nods once they find their place next to Phil and Techno. Phil wraps Tommy in his own wings to comfort the teenager, while Wilbur finds solace in leaning against Techno. Techno has enough sense to pat Wilbur on the back, before nodding back up toward the stage. Schlatt is taking his place before the microphone, wearing a nervous smile.

In spite of his disappointment, Wilbur is proud of his closest friend. He reaches around Phil to ruffle Tommy’s hair, trying to get the boy’s attention.

“L’Manburg,” Schlatt says. “Man, I don’t even know how to start, except to say thank you. I’m so glad all of you participated in this election, casting your votes wisely. I also want to say that even though he lost, this country is still every bit of Wilbur’s as it is mine. He helped found the country we all live and believe in, and I’m still beyond honored to call him a friend. Because that’s what he is, a friend. Not just for me, but for all of us!”

Schlatt pauses to clear his throat, gaze sweeping over the crowd. Wilbur feels his eyes tear up, but he holds them back. He’s not going to weep in front of thousands of people. He re-focuses his attention on Schlatt, who’s speaking again.

“I’m going to run this nation fairly, living up to the ideals Wilbur set up for us. We’re a nation, we stand proud and we’re going to continue fighting for what we believe in. L’Manburg was founded on revolution and a desire for peace, and we’re going to continue pushing for independence, for unity, and become even better than we started off as!”

There’s a cheer that rises up in the air. Wilbur hears himself cheering alongside them, and he doesn’t realize he’s moving forward until he’s up on stage, leaning against Schlatt with a laugh. His wings wrap around his friend, gold shimmering in the sunlight. This isn’t supposed to happen, but sometimes, Wilbur really can’t help himself.

“Not meaning to interrupt,” Wilbur says with a laugh. He pats Schlatt on the back. “But I’m going to hand the keys to the nation over to someone I trust as much as my own family. I may have founded this country with my brother, but Schlatt’s the one in charge.” There are no physical keys to hand over; the pair behind the microphone understand the symbolism behind this entire event. “Schlatt, I know you will uphold and perfect our ideals and beliefs, and push this country forward into an even better tomorrow.”

There’s more cheering, and it rises in volume when the pair hug it out. This is unorthodox, normally a former president and president-elect would not be hugging, but Wilbur loves and trusts Schlatt, and he’s glad that things are turning out this way after all. He hopes Tommy understands as well.

The event is over. People are dismissing themselves, wandering back to whatever they do with their lives. The streets are filled with chatter and an excited buzz, but Wilbur is more focused on his approaching family. Phil is wearing a proud smile on his face, and Tommy’s eyes are red.

Schlatt reaches over to ruffle Tommy’s hair. “Chin up kid, it’s not over for you.”

Tommy juts his chin out in defiance, trying to look tough. “Shut the fuck up, big man. You’re not so tough, I could still take you on.” Tommy uses his sleeve and uses the cloth to dry his eyes. “In all seriousness Schlatt, I’m proud of you. You’re gonna do us proud, aren’t you?”

Schlatt nods. “I want to. I’m more scared of letting you two down than I am being a leader.” He offers a small smile, gaze flicking toward Wilbur’s wings, then Tommy’s. “Man, I just don’t want to let either of you down.”

“You could never,” Wilbur reassures him. “Schlatt, you’ve got charisma. You’ve got finesse. You’ve got-”

“Wilbur, Wilbur, please. Shut, and I mean this nicely, but shut the fuck up,” Tommy cuts in. “No one wants to hear you two flirt.” He’s leaning against Techno again, with Techno’s wings wrapping around the teen. In between words, it’s easy to tell that Tommy is still disappointed, and is hiding it behind his usual facade.

“Are you sure?” Schlatt asks, rolling his eyes at Tommy. Not out of irritation, but more to keep the conversation rolling. “I’m a little worried if I can be honest with you. Your entire family has wings, Wil. I have goat horns. What if that means people don’t take me seriously? Wouldn’t it be better if I had wings too?”

“Oh.” Wilbur laughs a little too loudly. He’s always hated having this conversation with Schlatt, it comes up more often than he wants to entertain. Schlatt has always been jealous of not being able to fly as Wilbur can. “You don’t need wings to rule, bro. You’re good, people adore you.” He motions around them with his fist. “We should go back home, for dinner. I’m sure Phil would love to prepare a celebratory meal for our president.”

Phil snorts but complies with the unspoken request to head back home. He moves forward, nudging both Techno and Tommy, though he keeps his head turned, watching Wilbur and Schlatt. “Schlatt, I’d be honored if you could join us tonight,” Phil says. “It’d be just like old times.”

“Nah.” Schlatt’s smiling, remaining in place. “I have other things to tend to. I’ll join you another night though, alright? And hey, Tommy?” He reaches out, pressing a palm to Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy stops walking, turning back to look at him. “I heard you cheering the loudest, kid. I know this election meant a lot to you, I know this country means a lot to you, so I’m going to do right by you.”

A pink tinge covers the teen’s cheeks, eyes lighting up in glee. He’s no longer crying, but there is still an air of disappointment surrounding him. Wilbur tries to let his shoulders relax; Tommy had always looked up to the ram hybrid. Schlatt had always gotten along well with Tommy, even delving into the same kind of teasing the other three dished out. There was never a moment where Tommy would feel unsafe, and he hopes, in spite of the event and differing emotions, that Tommy knows that now.

“There’s no way I cheered for you at all,” Tommy snarks. “You were too busy preening your suit during your whole speech. You were so preoccupied with Wilbur you didn’t hear me booing you.”

“He’s lying,” Techno comments. “Tommy was crying crocodile tears the whole time.” He’s standing a little ways from the group, looking a little uncomfortable. Wilbur’s certain he’s growing uneasy with this much activity and social interaction. Wilbur smiles at him, even laughing a little at his comment as he tugs Techno closer to them.

“Shut up Techno.” Tommy shoots his older brother a glare. “Jokes aside, don’t worry about me, I can handle anything life throws at me. You won the election fair and square, now we’ll just have to see how long it takes before you run it to the ground.”

“Me, destroying a whole country?” Schlatt places a hand to his chest in mock dismay. “I would never!”

Tommy lets out a snort as he steps away from the group, wings finally picking up off the ground. He seems to be cheering up now, which Wilbur is glad for. “I had a dream about you, Schlatt. I dreamt that you took over the country and immediately turned it into a dictatorship and made everyone betray you. Also-” Tommy rushes to continue before anyone can interrupt him, because Phil is trying to shush him. “Also, you banished me and Wilbur from the country, and we formed a rebellion. It was a cool dream, wish it came true.”

“Please.” Schlatt’s grin is now a little too forced. “You know me Tommy, I wouldn’t do anything like that. Wilbur and I are good friends, and you’re as good as my little brother!”

“Never say that again,” Tommy says, trying to appear serious and intimidating. “I don’t need no older brothers, I’m already my own big brother.”

“Alrighty,” Techno jokes. “Guess we can just leave Tommy behind. Everyone else, let’s go home. We don’t have a brother anymore, yup.”

“Of course, of course,” Wilbur continues. He turns to walk along with Techno, with Phil cracking up behind them. “I guess we’ll see you later, Schlatt. The three of us have to get home before it’s too late.”

“Wait.” The realization of being abandoned clearly sets in, because Tommy’s wings are wilting again. “Guys, wait, don’t leave me behind!”

“Why are we walking, when we can just fly?” Techno asks, with an abrupt subject change. Wilbur’s glad for it, because Tommy’s already upset enough, he doesn’t want to give Tommy another reason to cry. Techno waves goodbye to Schlatt before spreading his pink and white wings out, giving them a single shake. “I’m not walking anywhere.”

The rest of the family follows suit. There’s an array of colorful feathers floating in the air; a mix of black, pink, gold, blue, white, all shimmering with every other color of the rainbow. Schlatt stands and watches as the four members of this particular family disappear into the air and out of sight.

He can’t say he’s not disappointed. He’s always envied their ability to fly, and the beautiful wings they possess. He turns to head back toward his new life though, because up ahead, Niki is waiting for him. She’s wearing a bright smile and is holding a stack of paperwork in her arms.

She doesn’t have wings either, so Schlatt wonders if that’s okay. He doesn’t need wings to be a decent person, he’s sure. He approaches her, patting her on the shoulder. Niki is offering her own quieter congratulations, and they head for the office.

What Schlatt doesn’t notice is off in the distance, another winged being is watching. A faceless, endless green void, with matching green and black and white wings, facing the new president. When the crowd finally disperses, the figure too disappears, evidently having seen enough to satisfy him.

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sur-un-fil · 3 years

Text

My entry for the third Nayialovecat competition for chidren's day : Karma is still a bitch!

- There are a lot of people... I didn't think the idea of Fifteen would be so successful, whispers the massive Lost One standing at the back of the room to the little one next to him, arms crossed.

- It's true that, bitter as he is, it's surprising! replies the other a little too loudly, her look fixed on the small crowd of Lost ones sitting or standing in groups chatting, a can of soup in their hands.

- Jane... Be comprehensive. He spends his days with Sammy. ALL of his days.

- I don't like what he's become, Jane grumbles, looking away.

G nods, almost in spite of himself. He doesn't like to recognize sadness in others.

- I know. Maybe this Club will make him smile again? he says in a slightly too cheerful voice.

- G. When he told me about it, he was so tense with rage that if I had kicked him, he would have shattered into little black, hateful splinters.

- But we can hope...

- This is an Anti-Bendy Club, G. How do you expect it to appease him?

G prefers to divert - slightly - the conversation.

- Hm. Besides, I'm surprised he hasn't made an Anti-Sammy Club.

Jane shrugs her shoulders.

- He's smart enough to know that even if we can get rid of Sammy, Bendy will exterminate every last one of us.

- Uh, yes, but isn't that also the case if we get rid of Bendy? If his Lord and lover is ever killed... There'll be bits of the culprit all over the Studio. Bits that Sammy will then pick up, paste back into the ink, reform the guy and start again.

G can't help but shudder as he imagines the scene.

- Again and again and again. And again.

- I don't know. I don't think Fifteen is in any shape to think any further, Jane replies.

- 'Poor thing. He should have let Bendy eat him.

- He says so every day. That's why I can't understand why you encouraged him to set up this Club! This is stupid! We should be taking his mind off his anger, not letting him wallow in it!

- I just want to support Fifteen. If we have to spend an hour every three-quarters of a cycles to meet for imagining unworkable plans to kill a super-fast demon surely immortal with an overdeveloped sense of smell... I'll do it. And then I tell myself that if he realises that it's unfeasible, he'll stop fantasising and accept his fate a little better...

- Or we can try to hit Sammy on the head until he forgets about Fifteen. That sounds just as plausible to me.

G rubs his forehead as he closes his eyes, feeling a slightly guilty annoyance rising.

- Jane... Are you his friend or not?

- Why am I here and not over a cup of ink, eh?

But she promises herself she'll stop by afterwards. She'll need it.

- So stop being unpleasant. We will have to do this first meeting without Fifteen, he has not finished his "service" with Sammy. This is good. It's a great opportunity to get things moving in the right direction

Jane sighs heavily.

- ... You're very, very optimistic.

Her tone suggests that this is far from a compliment.

- It has to be. If you give up hope, you give up living! G replies cheerfully, ignoring the sarcasm.

- Spare me your positive slogans. It makes me want to throw up.

- I know you don't mean it.

Jane rolls her eyes without answering. G wraps an arm around her shoulders and leads her to the middle of the room. She suspects that he will call out to the other Lost Ones to start the meeting. She can't help but resist a little, digging her heels into the floor to slow G down. Her friend simply tightens his embrace without losing his big friendly smile.

She will not escape. .............................................................................................................................

- AND THIS IS THE ONLY SOLUTION YOU HAVE FOUND? TOYS? I SHOULD NEVER HAVE LET YOU RUN THIS MEETING!

- Calm down, Fifteen. There's no point in shouting like that, G told him in a soft voice.

- YOU'RE A FUCKING CARE BEAR AND NOW, YOU'VE CONTAMINATED THE OTHERS!

- People won't come back, sighs G.

He decided not to take the insult. In any case, for him, being a Care Bear was not a fault. He liked to be a gentle person, caring for others and always optimistic. Why on earth would anyone want him to be bitter and sullen?

But Fifteen doesn't even blink and opens his mouth to bellow again.

- I'M SURE IT WAS YOUR IDEA!

Jane, a little way off, just listens with one ear while sipping her ink, sitting comfortably in one of the only chairs still standing. She knew that this was not at all what Fifteen meant by "finding a way to have a peaceful life". But left to his own devices, G had done as he pleased. She hadn't even tried to intervene. What was the point? The others had seemed as willing as G. to find a gentle way to avoid being eaten. The idea of killing Bendy (which was much more definitive, admittedly ) hadn't occurred to them. Fifteen would have been mad if he had heard them...

- Well... It's a joint proposal. We all voted, you know? We had to find out exactly what would suit them. They're so different, we couldn't do the same thing... mumbles G, a little embarrassed.

- I KNEW IT! I...

- FIFTEEN! Jane finally shouts, as a headache begins to pound her temples. QUIET!

Fifteen turns to her, looking as if he wants to shout at her too. A glare dissuades him. He grunts, but turns back to his more conciliatory friend, tacitly accepting his defeat.

Satisfied, Jane takes a sip. At least he'll stop bawling. If she is far from having G's patience, she understands Fifteen. If she were in his place, the Club's crazy proposal would have pissed her off.

- I don't understand how you got to... To this!

- You know I prefer non-violent solutions, but...

- SO IT IS YOU!

- ... you would have been surprised to find out that almost everyone did. Nobody thought of anything aggressive. Finally, we decided together that attempting to soften him would be a better idea. When you think about it, Bendy's not that bad...

- He EATS people!

That's one for Fifteen, thinks Jane, hiding her smile in her glass.

- But he has no choice! And he's doing it very quickly now, with a lot of understanding...

- For God's sake, G! Do you hear yourself?

G suddenly frowns. Which is a bad sign. Slowly, he straightens up to his full height, stepping between the candle's halo and his friend, casting his massive shadow over Fifteen's slightly worried face.

Jane tucks her head into her shoulders. G is an extremely positive and gentle Lost One who can take a lot. In fact, he is so gentle that it is easy to forget that, like everyone else, he has limits. Limits that must not be exceeded...

- Now you will calm down and listen to me carefully. I know perfectly well how pedantic, exalted and annoying Sammy can be. I know that having to spend most of your time doing things you don't like must seem like hell, especially in a place that already looks a lot like Purgatory. But let me remind you of two really important things, my friend.

G's calm tone is extremely firm. Fifteen therefore cautiously keeps his mouth shut. Satisfied by what he takes to be attentive listening, G continues.

- The first is that, painful as it is, Sammy has changed a lot since he... Um. Been seeing Bendy. And even more so now that he has the triplets. If you bothered to talk to him, I'm sure he'd understand and accept your resignation.

Fifteen must be showing his dismay in his eyes because Jane hears G's tone turn to annoyance.

- Or lie, you fool! You could just tell him you'd rather preach to the Lost Ones below. No one will denounce you, and John Dot spends most of his time with them and the little ones...

G's voice then becomes dangerously low.

- And the second... I don't want you to forget that under any circumstances, I could never plan, cause or allow another person's death, do you hear me? NEVER!

With that last word, G's tone is so intense that Fifteen shrivels up in front of him.

- Even Joey's? he asks anyway in a tiny voice.

G shakes his head as he straightens up. If he'd been wearing a suit like he did when he was human, he'd probably have smoothed his shirt or absentmindedly tightened his tie.

- It's not the same. In his case, it would almost be like doing a good deed. But don't change the subject!

Fifteen flinches.

- You will accept the Club's decision WITHOUT grumbling and you will take an ACTIVE part in it. We will need your sewing skills. That way you'll be able to see that even the worst situations can be solved with a positive attitude.

- But...

G stands up without paying attention to this feeble attempt at protest. It's no use trying to be right anyway when G takes that tone. Jane tilts her head back to finish her ink, convinced that G is going to take Fifteen with him, willingly or not. - You'll see, it'll be quick. All we need is three of Bendy's cuddy toy and three tape recorders.

She vaguely hears Fifteen grumbling as she greedily licks the last of her ink. Lowering her arm, she finds G standing in front of her.

- Oh no, she says, backing up in her chair, clutching her empty glass to her chest.

- Oh yes, replies the Lost One in a quiet tone, holding out a hand as big as a pot lid towards her.

A second later, G, glowing, walks out of the room. He carries a dishevelled Jane over his shoulder, who spits out every swear word in her vocabulary, gesticulating in vain. Fifteen follows, shuffling along, arms crossed and face sullen.

- Everything is going to work out for the best, you'll see! says G in an energetic tone, both to convince the other two and himself. .............................................................................................................................

-MUUUUUMYYY! DAAAADYYYY!!!

There is a sound of wet running in the hallway and almost immediately the door swings open.

Sammy stands up on one elbow and gropes for his mask, while Bendy doesn't even move. The light splashes on his dark face and he blinks, disturbed. He manages to make out Bendy Jr's small face raised towards him. He smiles at once and puts down his mask to reach out and caress his cheek. Curiously, his son seems to be holding something, but Sammy is still too sleepy to pay attention.

-Shh, kids. What's going on? Is everything okay? he asks in a low voice.

Henry Jr. puts the candle on the floor and the light stops dancing, allowing him to see better. Sammy wonders vaguely what time it is, as his triplets trample their blanket bed to join him. It's early, of course. But it's always too early when your little ones wake you up screaming.

Sam is the first to arrive and snuggle up to his father. Henry Jr. sits on his lap smiling broadly and Ben, after kissing him on the cheek, nestles against Bendy's back a little ways away. They all have a cardboard box in their hands.

- What is it? asks Sammy, his eyebrows already furrowed.

- We found them outside the door! exclaims Henry Jr. in a high-pitched voice, wiggling around, clearly full of energy and overexcited. We heard a noise this morning and went to see. There was no one left, it was all dark and empty, but there were these things. It's got our names on it, Dad!

- Gift! exclaims Sam in delight as he shoves his box under his father's nose.

Sammy gently pushes his son's little hand away so he can examine what he's so vigorously handing him. It's a simple cardboard box, one of those that held paper, cut to form a cube that closes. And on one of the sides it says "For Sammy Jr, from the B.F.C". The box is light, but when you shake it a bit, it makes a soft, squishy sound. It seems completely innocent, but Sammy is wary. Their little family doesn't have only friends. His throat tightens because he hates to hurt their feelings, he tilts his shoulders a little - as if that will help him when his babies cry - and begins in what he hopes is an authoritative tone:

- I don't know what it is about, kids. Maybe it's not safe to...

- There's nothing dangerous in it.

As always, Bendy's deep voice sends a soft warmth through his empty chest. The demon continues without turning around, only reaching back with one arm to briefly caress Ben's head.

- I would have smell it. They can open it.

-YEAAH! the little ones scream.

The carton almost disappears as the children eagerly tear it apart. There are still pieces falling down when Sam gets up shouting:

- Cuddly toy! Cuddly toy mummy!

- What? says the aforementioned mother. Machinically, he lifts Ben up so as he not to crush him when he turns around. He settles him against his stomach to be able to see the presents. The little one hugged the cuddly toy enthusiastically. Sam is also happy, but Henry Jr. looks a little disappointed.

- I would have preferred a little pirate ship, he mumbles as he looks at hiscuddly toy . He finally drops it to sulk in his father's arms. But when the cuddly toy hits the ground, a voice exclaims with a constrained air:

- We love you!

Sammy tilts his head to one side.

- The voice sounds familiar.

The fact that the cuddly toy can talk is instantly appealing, and to all three this time. Henry Jr hurries to pick up his, while Sam stares at it, delighted, and Ben frantically searches for the switch in his cuddly toy Bendy .

The real Bendy is the only one who doesn't seem thrilled by the presents.

- I don't know how I'm supposed to take it, he says thoughtfully, looking at the little replicas of the character that he was supposed to embody.

- I don't think it's an insult or a bad joke, my lord. They weren't going to send us an ugly B.I.T.C.H. cuddly toy, or the canine abomination that lives near the music department. Those are the only ones suitable for children of a Go...

Bendy glares at him and Sammy doesn't finish his sentence. He shrugs contritely, as if to say, "Sorry. It's the usual. ".

- They like them a lot. That's all that matters, he says with a smile.

- If you say so. We'll still have to find out where they come from...

- Yes, but I'm sure that... Wait a minute. Ah! I knew I knew that voice! exclaims Sammy, making his lover flinch.

He grabs Sam's cuddly toy, which starts to whine. After pulling his son into his arms and whispering a " Wait, Daddy's watching something " to soothe him, Sammy pulls the little Bendy close to his face and starts the recording again, listening carefully.

- It's the voice of Fifteen!

Bendy frowns.

- Who?

- The second Lost One to join our chur... Discussion group. The one who always seems to have something bitter in his mouth.

- Ah, yes, that one... answers the demon without having any idea who it is. Sammy gives the cuddly toy back to his son and then looks at his children with tender eyes.

- These gifts are obviously from him. It's so nice of him!

- Humf, say Bendy, happy to see his children so pleased, but can't bring himself to call anyone "nice".

Let's not exaggerate.

Sammy seems so delighted by his disciple's devotion that he almost claps his hands.

- I think to reward him, I'm going to give him more responsibility. It will be a lot more work for him, of course, but I'm sure he'll be very happy. What could these gifts be, apart from an unquestionable mark of faith?

And Sammy turns away to play with his children. As he looks down, Bendy notices a small piece of paper folded in half. When he opens it, he finds it written: "Gift from The Bendy Friends Club , a new Lost association. Our motto: We're so nice, so don't eat us! Hope you enjoyed it, sincerely, B.F.C".

- They're getting clever, aren't they... he whispers to himself while his eternal smile widened further.

...

The end.

#nayialovecatcontest #nayia #myentrie #mini-fanfic #SATIM #Bendy #Sammy #bendy and the ink machine

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queen-eliza-schuyler · 4 years

Text

Work Place Problems- Chapter 11

“The election results, folks! Get your news here!” A mail boy yells, waving a newspaper around

On the front page was the bold title, ‘President Thomas Jefferson marries Secretary Hamilton and announces that there is a child on the way.”

Earlier that week

“Every action has its equal opposite reaction. John Adams shat the bed; I love the guy, but he’s in traction. Poor Alexander Hamilton, he is missing in action. So now I’m facing Aaron Burr with his own faction,” Thomas drawls in front of the press.

As he exits the stage after his campaigning speech, James greets him at the door.

“Burr is very attractive in the North, New Yorkers like his chances,” James says evenly.

“He’s not very forthcoming on any particular stances and besides, he only entered to spite Adams. He doesn’t truly want to win,” Thomas says.

And it was true. After Adams fired Hamilton, Burr decided he would run for president just to piss him off.

If he somehow got ahead of Thomas in the race, the plan was for him to drop out.

Aaron didn’t want the presidency. He had a 3 year old daughter, Theodosia. He didn’t want to miss a single thing she did growing up and presidential matters would take up too much of his time.

“He’s doing well ignoring questions. Ask him a question, it glances off, he obfuscates, he dances,” Madison notes.

Thomas chuckles. “And they say I’m a Francophile, at least they know I know where France is.”

James shakes his head. “Thomas, that’s the problem; see, they see Burr as a less extreme you. You need to change course, a key endorsement might redeem you.”

Thomas frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“What does everyone in this nation believe?” James prompts.

When Thomas remains silent, James continues. “They all think that Alexander Hamilton hates you. So if you get your fiancé to promote you…”

“….I get the presidential seat of power and we don’t have to raise suspicion by having Aaron drop out.” Thomas finishes.

“Exactly,” comes a voice from behind them.

They see Burr standing and smiling at them as he makes his way off the stage.

Thomas shakes hands with the man before turning to leave.

“I have to be on my way. Alexander is going to kill me when he finds out I forgot to do the laundry again,” Thomas says solemnly.

James and Aaron laugh and shoo him off.

Thomas climbs into his car and finally allows himself to smile.

He was going to win this election and get married to the love of his life.

He knocks on the door to hear a muffled, ‘Coming!’

Alexander opens the door and tilts his head back all the way to look Thomas in the eye.

Thomas smirks at the small omega as Alexander scowls at him.

“Get in, you fucking tree,” Alexander grumbles.

Thomas chuckles and enters the house.

“So, about the election-” Thomas starts.

“Ah, ah, ah. No. Stop worrying about it.” Alexander tutted, cutting him off.

Thomas shook his head with a blinding grin.

“No. I figured out how to win. We’re going to get married,” Thomas says, picking Alexander up and spinning him around.

Alexander shrieks in surprise only for it to fade into laughter at the sheer joy on Thomas’s face.

Once Thomas puts Alexander down, he asks, “What’s your secret weapon?”

Thomas flops onto the couch and undos his tie with practiced ease. “That’s the best part, darlin. It’s you.”

Alexander blinks. “What?”

Thomas pulls him into his lap and explains. “Everyone thinks we hate each other, right? So if you vote for me, it’ll seem like the obvious decision if you chose your enemy over your closest friend.”

Alexander nods slowly. “Is Aaron ok with this?”

“He’s one of the reasons I got the idea.” Thomas responds.

Alexander grins. “I’m going to go type up a statement, ok?”

Thomas nods before he finally smells the tantalizing smell of pie.

“Doll, are you baking pies for Mary and Eliza’s house warming tonight or am I delusional?” Thomas questions.

Alexander jumps up with alarm. “Shit, shit, fuck, shit. They’re going to burn.”

He sprints to the kitchen leaving a wheezing Thomas behind on the couch.

“Did you save them from the burning heat of the oven, sweetheart?” Thomas calls, laughter clear in his voice.

“For your information, yes, I saved them. And I made extra for us but if you don’t want it, I suppose I don’t need to share,” Alexander singsongs.

Thomas places a hand on his heart and looks at Alexander from where he was taking pies out of the oven with betrayal. “You wouldn’t.”

Alexander stares him dead on the eye. “Try me.”

Thomas snorts. “You’re too fucking tiny to eat all that.”

“Shut the hell up, Jefferson.”

Thomas chuckles fade into a sigh when he sees the notifications blow up on his phone.

“I‘ll be in my office if you need me,” Thomas calls.

“Ok, I’m going to be working on my paper on one of the tables in the library,” Alexander calls back.

“Google, set a reminder at 7 to get ready for Eliza’s party,” Thomas calls.

They didn’t buy an Alexa in case of confusion between the Alexa and Alexander.

“Reminder is already set,” the automated female voice says back.

“I already did it,” Alexander says.

Thomas hums as he makes his way across the house to the office.

Thomas was almost falling asleep when Alexander’s voice came ringing into his office.

“I finished the article. My editor is reading through and it should be up by tomorrow in the New York Times and news,” Alexander says.

Before Thomas can respond, Google's voice says; “Get ready for Eliza’s party. Get ready for Eliza’s party.”

“Google, stop.” Thomas says, rubbing his temples.

The alpha gets up and enters his room to change.

He leaves feeling more refreshed than before and frowns when he sees Alexander. He places his hand on the omega’s forehead to check for a fever.

“Are you ok? Your forehead is hot. Do you feel sick? I can tell Eliza if you feel sick, she and Mary will understand,” Thomas fretted.

Alexander smiles weakly. “I’m fine, love, lets go.”

Thomas gives him a look. “If it gets worse, we come back.”

“Deal,” Alexander reluctantly agreed.

Alexander ends up throwing up at the party and nearly fainting.

Thomas carried him home along with a bag full of medicine, candy, hot packs, and get well soon food.

He lays him down on their bed, laying next to him.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Thomas asked, pulling Alexander close to him.

Alexander looked slightly better when he smelt Thomas’s scent. “I feel better.”

Thomas thinks. “What do you think you’re down with?”

Alexander sighs against his neck. “Actually, I know what’s happening.”

Thomas blinks in surprise. “What is it?”

“I was going to tell you later but I’m pregnant. I have three positive pregnancy tests in the bathroom to attest for it.” Alexander mumbles.

Thomas froze.

For a second, Alexander panics.

“If you don’t want the child, it’s ok, I think Laf and Herc want to adopt. I want the kid but if you aren’t comfortable, they can raise them so that they’re close but not like-” Alexander rambles, cut off when Thomas places a hand on his stomach.

He looks up to see a look of wonder on the alpha’s face as he touches his stomach.

“I’m going to be a dad,” Thoma whispers.

“Yup. And I’m gonna be a mom.” Alexander jokes.

Thomas nuzzles his neck. “You’re gonna be the best mama there is.”

Alexander cracks a smile. “Mama?”

“That’s what I called my mother,” Thomas explains.

Alexander kisses Thomas’s cheek. “I love it but I’m pretty sure I’m going to be a papa.”

Thomas nods. “Sounds good, mama it is.”

Alexander snorts in amusement. “We’ll let the kid decide.”

Thomas presses a kiss to the top of Alexander’s nose. “If it makes you feel better about being a mom.”

#alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #jamilton

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purrincess-chat · 5 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Original CH16

It’s here early!! A couple things: I asked a while ago rabbit or dog, and most of you voted rabbit, so this is the chapter where you reap what you have sewn. I will say, however, that I changed the rabbit quite a bit because I wasn’t a big fan of what canon did, and this fic is explicitly about giving canon the finger, so it’s only fitting. Anyway, hope you all enjoy!

Previous First Next

Chapter 16

Marinette and Adrien stared at his phone, jaws hanging agape as silence stretched on until Chloe sighed, and Marinette blinked out of her trance.

“I’m sorry. We’re going to what now?” She said, cocking her head to the side.

“Ugh, just get over here,” Chloe groaned before hanging up.

Marinette and Adrien exchanged bewildered looks, and at her cocked brow, he shrugged as if to say, ‘I have no idea what just happened either.’ Marinette nodded before they gathered their things and piled back into Adrien’s town car to head to the hotel. On the drive over, Adrien laced his fingers through hers once more, and she smiled up at him as this thumb traced the back of her palm, a fluttery feeling spreading through her chest.

She’d waited for this moment for so long, and now they were finally together. Adrien had fallen in love with her after all, and to her surprise, she was relatively calm about it. She wasn’t planning their wedding or naming their future pets, but she felt an overwhelming warmth in her chest that spread to her cheeks. Perhaps it was because she and Adrien knew each other better now, and she’d grown to be more comfortable around him. He was a true friend, and someone she could lean on through all of this mess, a stable rock in the middle of a storm, providing her with support whenever she needed it, and that was worth the world to her.

When they arrived at the hotel, Adrien, sensing her nerves, never let go the whole way up to Chloe’s suite. Chloe was staring out at her balcony when they arrived, a pensive frown wrinkling her forehead, and she turned to them, pursing her lips to mask her expression as they approached. They eyed each other in tense silence until Marinette spoke up.

“So,” she started, cocking a brow, “what?”

Chloe rolled her eyes and rubbed her temple with a sigh.

“Look, don’t go getting any ideas that I’m doing this for you. This isn’t about you; it’s about revenge,” Chloe said awkwardly. “Lila seems to feel the most threatened by you, so I think it will have more of an impact if your name is associated with all of this charity work you want to do, and the only way to make anyone else care enough to report about it is to make you someone worth talking about.”

“What makes you think Lila is threatened by me?” Marinette said, rubbing her arm. “All she ever does is toy with me.”

“And why do you think that is?” Chloe rolled her eyes when Marinette still seemed lost. “When someone like her feels threatened, they lash out and try to bring you down.”

“Is that why you were always so mean to me?” Marinette’s eyes narrowed, a smirk curling on her lips, and Chloe scoffed.

“Don’t lump me in with her! I’m mean to people for the sheer entertainment of watching them suffer. Totally different,” Chloe waved it away.

“Okay, so how exactly do you plan on making Marinette famous?” Adrien asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Easily,” Chloe said with a shrug. “The dumb brat has already started making a name for herself, and more and more important people are starting to notice her talent, if you want to call it that.”

“I will ignore the insult in favor of the compliment,” Marinette crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a hip.

“Look, even my mom has complimented your work, so I think we should – as disgusting as this is – ask my mom to help you launch your fashion career.” Chloe cringed as she said it.

Marinette stared at her for a long moment before shifting her weight.

“You’re being serious right now?” Marinette’s eyebrows raised.

“I know. Even I’m shocked.” Chloe wrinkled her nose.

“You want to help me start my fashion career? Now?”

“It’s the only way to take down that brat for good,” Chloe said, placing her hands on her hips.

“This is uncharacteristically nice of you, Chloe,” Adrien said with a smile that brought a flush to her cheeks. “I’m proud of you.”

“I still hate you, and don’t ever expect me to be caught dead wearing your trash, but my mom wanted to train you, so I think it’s our best shot.” Chloe turned away stubbornly.

“So, what? We’re just going to walk up to your mom and ask her to work with me?” Marinette scoffed.

“Pretty much,” Chloe said, marching past her.

“Wait, we’re going right now?” Marinette flinched, turning over her shoulder.

“We want to take her down this century, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe said pointedly, crossing the hall to her mother’s suite.

“But…wait, Chloe-” she rushed after her as she barged into the room across the hall.

Audrey was in the midst of a hot stone massage, and Marinette curled her shoulders.

“Should we disturb her-”

“Mommy,” Chloe said, and Audrey gave some groan of acknowledgement. “You remember my dreadful former classmate, the one who designed the feather hat for Adrien?”

“Vaguely,” Audrey said.

“Well, Clara Nightingale walked the red carpet in one of her designs, and I think you should back her brand,” Chloe suggested.

“I thought you hated this girl-”

“You and me both,” Marinette grumbled.

“-now it sounds like you’re being nice,” Audrey choked on the word.

“There’s a nasty girl at school that I want to get rid of, and I need to make Dupain-Cheng famous to do it,” Chloe explained, and Audrey moaned as the masseuse worked a knot in her shoulders.

“Get me a portfolio by the end of the month, then we’ll talk,” she said, and Chloe clapped her hands together.

“Thank you, Mommy,” she cooed.

“Wait, I’m sorry, by the end of the month?” Marinette tilted her head to the side.

“Fashion moves quickly, dear, so if you want to be relevant, you’ll get me your portfolio with a pitch before the end of the month,” Audrey said more sternly, and Marinette blanched.

“She’ll have it ready,” Adrien promised, and Marinette shot him a look.

“I’m not so sure she can-”

“Enjoy your massage,” Chloe grabbed Marinette’s arm and dragged her from the room.

“Chloe, I don’t know if I can-”

"Oh, shut it," Chloe clamped her hand in a mouth-shutting motion. "You are annoyingly persistent when you want to be. I've seen you accomplish way more in less time, so don't you even say you can't do it because if anyone has got what it takes, it's you, and if you tell anyone I said that, I will destroy everything you love."

“The end of the month? That only gives me a week to come up with an entire line,” Marinette said pointedly. “Not to mention it has to impress your mom – the queen of fashion!”

“And?” Chloe quirked a brow, and Marinette gave her a bewildered look.

“Chloe’s right, Marinette, you can do this,” Adrien took her hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

“But what if I can’t?” Marinette lowered her gaze.

“Then your fashion career is dead, and I’ll just get rid of Lila my way,” Chloe shrugged before sauntering back into her suite. “Toodles!”

Marinette leaned her face into Adrien’s shoulder with a moan, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“I know this is a lot of pressure, but you are the most amazing girl I know. You’re an incredible designer, and I know you’re going to knock it out,” he said, pulling back to press his forehead to hers, those green eyes baring into hers with a confidence she wished she felt. She took a deep, centering breath and nodded.

“Okay,” she said, pressing her lips into a firm line. “Let’s do it.”

***

Lila glared down at her phone screen, her laptop playing Clara’s acceptance speech in the background which only made her blood boil hotter. Marinette pulled a couple fast ones on her, but it was the last time she’d get the best of her. She stared down at Adrien’s post again with a scowl.

“So proud of @marinette-dc! I’m so lucky to have fallen for someone as amazing as you.”

Adrien would regret crossing her like this. They both would.

***

The next day at school, Marinette was quite the hot topic after her big debut. Everyone was buzzing about Clara’s dress, and she received compliments left and right, though she found it hard to enjoy her moment with Audrey’s deadline looming over her.

She’d spent all night brainstorming ideas, but so far she had nothing. Nada. Zilch. No ideas. No inspiration. Nothing, and she was a sweaty ball of nerves. Numerous times she’d tried to give herself pep talks. She saved the city on a daily basis, fought ten-ton monsters and tricky magicians. How hard could it be to design a few dresses and coats?

Infinitely hard, as it turned out. In fact, part of her wished it was as easy as fighting an akuma. That there was some clever shortcut to her end goal, but there were no such things in this case. Just her own imagination and the wall between it and her sketchpad.

“Why so glum?” Macy asked as Marinette shoved books into her locker. “Shouldn’t you be excited about your dress? Everyone loves it.”

“I am, but I just…Another amazing opportunity has fallen in my lap, and I don’t think I can do it, and I’m stressing out over it,” she explained with a sigh.

“Yeah, you are breaking out a little,” Lisette pointed out, and Marinette covered her chin with a groan.

“You’re amazing, Marinette, and you always find a solution,” Macy said, but when Marinette seemed less than convinced, she pursed her lips. “Tell you what, Lisette can help you cover your zit, and we’ll help you get your mojo back, okay?”

“Okay,” Marinette said as Macy took her hand and led her to the bathroom where Lisette somehow managed to completely erase any signs of her stress. Honestly, she was a wizard with a tube of concealer.

“There they are with the lady of the hour,” Eliott said when they met up for lunch.

Macy linked her arm through Martin’s and planted a kiss on his cheek. When Marinette eyed them, Martin’s cheeks flushed, and Macy perked up.

“Oh yeah, we never got a chance to tell you with everything that happened yesterday,” she gasped. “After the akuma, we were all looking for you, and Martin and I bumped into each other.”

- - -

“Macy!” Martin’s eyebrows raised before a flush came over his cheeks. “Are you okay? The akuma didn’t hurt you, did it?”

Macy eyed him for a long moment before grabbing his collar and yanking him down to meet her lips.

- - -

“And now we’re together,” Macy said with a cheery grin.

“Aww, good for you two,” Marinette giggled, and Eliott shot her a knowing smirk.

“I seem to recall another telling post about you and a certain model.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Marinette bit her lip.

“He gave me this necklace.” She pulled it from under her collar with a soft smile.

“How romantic!” Lisette said.

“How sparkly,” Macy added with a longing look until Eliott nudged her with his elbow.

“We should all double date this weekend,” Eliott suggested, and Macy shot up.

“We can go golfing! My parents are part-owners at one of the courses so that my dad can play whenever he wants,” she said, bouncing excitedly.

“I’ve never played golf.” Marinette curled her shoulders. “Besides, I have a lot to do.”

“Oh, come on, Marinette. We can teach you,” Martin said, and they all gave her pleading looks.

“I-” Marinette hesitated. “We’ll see.”

“What’s so urgent that you can’t come out, Marinette?” Lisette asked as they took their seats.

“Does it have to do with that girl?” Eliott lowered his voice.

“Kind of…” Marinette took a deep breath before explaining the entire situation – the plan, her deadline, all of it.

“Whoa, you’re really gonna pitch to Audrey Bourgeois?” Macy whispered, eyes wide.

“I’m gonna try,” Marinette pushed her peas around with a spoon. “I’m kinda running on empty right now.”

“If you need any help let us know, okay?” Macy reached out to place a hand over hers.

“Yeah, we know tons about fashion and starting charities,” Eliott echoed. “We’ve got your back.”

“Thanks, guys.”

***

“How could he do this to me!” Lila sobbed loudly in the locker room. “I thought we were going to be together then he left me for her!”

Several of the girls surrounded her, offering tissues and patting her sympathetically. It was almost too easy to get them all eating out of the palm of her hand. She’d like to see Adrien squirm his way out of this one.

“It’s really unlike Adrien to do something like this,” Rose said, pursing her lips.

“Yeah, there must be some explanation,” Mylene echoed.

“It’s not his fault,” Lila sniffled. “Marinette has never liked me. She even had her friends make up all those stories to make me look bad, and now she’s stolen Adrien right out from under me! I just don’t understand what I did to make her hate me.”

“Well, she was always kinda possessive of Adrien,” Alix said, rubbing the back of her neck as the locker room doors opened.

“Well, well, well, the two-timer himself. What do you have to say for yourself?” Alya folded her arms over her chest, and the girls rallied around Lila who shot Adrien a devious smirk.

“It’s fine, girls,” she said with a whimper. “I just don’t understand, Adrien. Yesterday we kissed at the museum, and then you said online that you’re with Marinette…I just want the truth.”

“You want the truth?” Adrien cocked a brow. “Fine. We didn’t kiss at the museum - you latched onto me without my permission. I never told you that I liked you, in fact, we barely ever see each other. I don’t know what you thought we were, but I’m in love with Marinette, not you. Sorry.”

Lila’s face hardened, but Adrien held her gaze steady.

“Was that enough truth for you?” He asked as the bell rang, and the girls all glanced at Lila.

“Well, I certainly hope you two are happy,” she said, but Adrien wasn’t fazed.

“We are. Thank you. I hope one day you find happiness too. Real happiness.”

At that they all dispersed, and Adrien held Lila’s glare as everyone made their way out the door. She stopped beside him, turning to whisper in his ear.

“You’ve just made a big mistake,” she murmured.

“No.” Adrien shook his head. “You did when you chose to lie to everyone, and I’m not sorry for what you’ve got coming.”

Lila grunted before stalking off to class, and Adrien let out a breath. His heart was pounding, but he felt exhilarated. Was this what it felt like to stand his ground? It was terrifying, yet immensely satisfying, and he knew now that their plan would work. Lila’s glory days were numbered, and they were going to set everyone free.

Most of their other classmates were supportive and even congratulated him, although Alya refused to look at him, and he was actually on top of his game for the next several days. Even Kagami couldn’t keep up during fencing, and part of him wondered why he hadn’t done this ages ago.

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng,” he greeted that Saturday when he finally convinced Nathalie to clear his schedule so he could help Marinette with her designs. “How is Marinette?”

“She hasn’t come out of her room all day,” Sabine winced, and Adrien sighed.

“I’ll go up and see her,” he offered.

“Here, she hasn’t had breakfast,” Tom said, tossing some croissants onto a plate.

“Thanks, Mr. Dupain,” Adrien nodded, accepting the plate and pacing out the back door and up the stairs.

When he made it to Marinette’s room, he found her face down in her sketchbook with a defeated slump to her shoulders. Crumpled paper littered the desk and floor, several patterns and magazines covering nearly every surface, though he did take pride in seeing the photo of the two of them as her desktop background.

“How goes designing?” He dared to ask, and she slowly turned her head, revealing puffy, blood-shot eyes and mascara-streaked cheeks.

“Great, except I have no talent and my life is over,” she said before burying her face again.

Adrien let out a breathy laugh, setting the plate and cup of coffee he’d picked up from the café next door amidst the mess and taking a seat beside her.

“C’mon, you and I both know that’s not true,” he said, rubbing her back. “You’re just in a rut right now, but you’ll get out of it.”

Marinette sat up with a sniffle and wiped at her cheek, noticing the things he’d brought up.

“Is that coffee?” She quirked a brow, reaching for it and immediately taking a sip with a satisfied moan.

“Of course because I’m the best boyfriend in the world,” he beamed, and a small smile broke over her lips. “Sorry I couldn’t visit sooner.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re busy. Besides, I’ve been so focused on designing the past few days I don’t think I would have had the brain capacity to do anything else,” she said, taking a croissant as Adrien nudged them toward her. “I feel like such a failure.”

“Your deadline is still a few days away. Don’t give up yet,” Adrien encouraged.

“It’s three days away, and I have nothing,” she leaned against her fist with a moan. “This is my big chance, and I’m gonna blow it!”

Adrien pursed his lips in contemplation before standing up and patting her shoulder.

“I think what you need is a little fresh air, so let’s go out for a while. Everyone is going to play golf, so maybe some exercise will get some blood pumping to your head,” he said, taking her hands and pulling her to her feet. “Get cleaned up.”

“Adrien, I dunno-”

“No excuses, come on.” He gave her a look, and when she threw her head back in exasperation, he switched gears. “You and I haven’t been out on a date yet because of everything, and I really want to spend time with you. Please?”

Marinette held his pleading gaze for a moment before letting out a relenting sigh, and a grin stretched across Adrien’s lips.

“You’re going to get me into all kinds of trouble with that face of yours,” she teased as he pulled her in.

“After golf we’ll go to your secret garden, just you and me and see if we can’t find you a muse,” he said softly, touching his nose to hers. “But you’ve been at this for days. You need a break.”

“I guess,” she mumbled, and Adrien pinched her side teasingly before leaning in closer.

Her eyelids hooded as he tilted his head, lips brushing tauntingly just before the door slammed downstairs, and Macy’s voice called out. Adrien sighed, holding her face in his hands longingly before planting a soft kiss on her nose and pulling away as footsteps pounded up the stairs.

“Marinette- oh!” Macy surveyed her disheveled appearance with a wince. “It’s worse than I thought, but have no fear. We’ve come to help.”

Lisette poked her head through the door before climbing up with a big makeup bag as Macy shooed Adrien out of the room.

“You can wait down in the living room with the other boyfriends while we work,” she said, sweetly, and Adrien shot Marinette a longing look before disappearing down the stairs.

Macy and Lisette cleaned her up in no time, and she started to feel a little better now that her hair was brushed. Lisette covered her dark circles and blemishes, and Macy presented her with a custom golf outfit. After everything she’d been through lately, it was nice to have friends looking out for her.

“As your best friends, we order you to take a break from designing and come have fun with us,” Macy declared, and Marinette shot a glance at her pile of ideas. “They’ll be there when you get back.”

“Okay,” Marinette caved, and Macy clapped excitedly.

The boys were playing Ultimate Mecha Strike when they came down, and Adrien locked eyes with Marinette instantly, a smile curling on his lips. Marinette felt her cheeks warm, and she averted her gaze as they stood up to join them.

“She lives,” Eliott remarked with a teasing grin, holding out his arms, and Marinette bit back a smirk.

“If by lives you mean she’s riddled with anxiety then yes,” she said, and Eliott ruffled her hair, though Macy quickly slapped his hand away, scolding him for ruining her work.

“You look cute in that outfit,” Adrien complimented as they headed downstairs, and Marinette tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a giggle.

“Would you kids like some treats for the road?” Tom offered a box of macarons with a grin, and Eliott and Martin perked up.

“No thank you. I’m on a diet,” Macy declined when they were passed to her. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Eliott said, eyeing her as Lisette picked two more cookies from the box before they crowded outside to the limo.

“Have fun!” Sabine called.

Marinette winced a little against the sunlight, having been cooped up in her room since she got home from school yesterday, and she was soon directed into the back of a silver limo. Adrien sat beside her, slipping his fingers into hers the moment they settled and lifting her hand to kiss the back of her palm. Biting back a smile, she leaned her head against his shoulder as he trailed his thumb over her knuckles, lost in her own bliss for the duration of the ride.

Although her mind occasionally wandered back to her deadline, she forced herself to take deep breaths when her nerves crept back in, and each time she squeezed Adrien’s hand a little tighter, he pressed gentle kisses to her hair, her temple, her hand, always patient, always supportive. Part of her still couldn’t believe they were together, and her heart skipped each time she imagined what it would be like to finally kiss him for real. She supposed she’d know soon enough.

The golf course was huge, and all of the staff knew Macy by name when they pulled up. Marinette felt a little awkward as they offered her water and fruit left and right as they headed up the sidewalk to the waiting golf carts, but her friends barely seemed to bat an eye, including Adrien who graciously accepted a bottle of water.

She tried to comfort herself a little seeing as if Chloe’s plan worked, this would likely be her life soon enough, but part of her felt really bad for the people following after socialites with dark umbrellas to shield them from the sun. In a way, it felt like she was on a different planet.

“How many holes would you like today, mademoiselle?” A man in a suit coat asked as several other men loaded club bags onto their carts.

“We’ve got a greenie with us today,” she said, casting Marinette a smile. “So let’s make it a half-course day.”

“Very well.” He nodded. “Best of luck.”

“Thank you, Javier,” Macy giggled, skipping over to her cart.

Marinette glanced around in awe much to Adrien's amusement. He chuckled as her head whipped around on the ride to the first hole, taking in all of the workers diligently tending to the lawn.

"Don't laugh," she scolded, which only made him laugh harder. "Hey! I'm not used to being waited on hand and foot. This is all new to me."

"I'm not making fun of you. It's really cute watching you. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by it all too, so I know what you're feeling," he said. "I'm not anyone special, and I hate taking advantage of others, but this is their job."

"I guess," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm just used to doing everything myself."

"It's overwhelming at times especially when they do things like tie your shoes or open your drink," he admitted with a wince, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's okay to tell them no if you want, but sometimes I find doing that makes me feel worse, so I've learned to accept it."

"It's hard to believe people live like this," she remarked, eyeing a group of well-dressed players as they drove passed.

"It's different when it's all you've ever known," Adrien said, lowering his gaze to his lap before smiling back up at her. "Your humility is cute which is why I know you're going to change the world when our plan succeeds."

"You mean if our plan succeeds," she corrected, but he gave her a look as they reached the first course.

"Marinette, you go last so you can watch all of us. We'll teach you everything you need to know," Macy said with a cheery grin, and Marinette listened intently to all of their advice, though when it was her turn, she still had no idea what she was doing.

She stared at the ball as Macy and Eliott called out pointers, but it felt like they were speaking another language. Gentle arms wrapped around her waist, and she felt another body pressing into her.

"I'll help you," Adrien said in her ear, placing his hands over hers. "Spread your feet apart and make sure the club head is straight, like this."

He turned the club slightly and adjusted her hands, being far more intimate than necessary, not that she was complaining. They were on a date after all, albeit a group one.

"Now, lean forward so your arms hang down and center your weight," he ran a hand up her back and gently pushed her forward. "To set up your back swing, be sure to rotate your shoulders and hips and follow through with the club then shift your weight slightly to the left and swing along the same curve."

Adrien placed his hands on her hips and shoulders, guiding her through the motion before moving around to the front, trailing his finger purposefully along her jaw with a smirk. Taking a few steps back, he motioned to the ball, and Marinette blinked a few times to clear the haze. She swallowed hard, her back and sides still tingling from his touch and followed his advice. She startled a little at the sound of soft claps over her shoulder as she watched the ball soar across the green.

"Very nice advice, Adrien," Macy complimented, "but get a room next time, you two."

Adrien and Marinette's cheeks flushed as they turned back to the carts to move to their balls. He extended a hand to her with a smile which she took as they followed behind.

As it turned out, she was pretty lousy at golf, but she didn’t care. They talked and laughed, poking fun at each other and enjoying the day. It was time spent with people she cared about and who in return cared about her, and just for a little while, she let go of her stress, her anxiety, her fear. These were her real friends, and she knew that even if she missed her deadline, they’d always have her back.

“Well, Marinette, I think you can rule out professional golfing as a career option,” Eliott said with a laugh, turning the score card around. “You never scored lower than a double bogey.”

“That’s bad, right?” She tilted her head to the side.

“It’s horrible,” Adrien affirmed, pinching her sides. “You looked so cute though.”

“Looks like we’ll just have to come play more often to catch you up,” Macy said with a smirk. “Now come on. They’re setting up a picnic over at the pavilion for us.”

“Great, I’m starving,” Lisette moaned, and Marinette noticed Eliott eyeing Macy with a frown.

When they made it to the pavilion, Macy broke away from Martin’s arm and gestured to the clubhouse.

“I’m gonna go run and see my dad really quick. The grass on hole 5 is looking a little high, so I’m going to tell him to have the lawn crew take care of it,” she said, taking a few steps back. “Don’t wait for me. Dig in!”

Eliott watched her go with a sigh as they all settled in at the table.

“What’s wrong?” Marinette asked, and he flicked his gaze to her, pursing his lips.

“She’s doing it again.” Eliott shook his head.

“Doing what again?” Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed, and Lisette winced.

“Dieting,” she said, holding up air quotes.

“Macy has always struggled with her appearance,” Eliott started, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She gets an idea in her head that something about her is unattractive, so she tries to fix it. In the past it’s been her hair or her teeth or her complexion, but ever since a guy she liked rejected her for being ‘too fat’ last year she’s become obsessed with her weight.”

“That’s awful!” Marinette said, cupping a hand over her mouth.

“She goes on these ‘diets’ every few months, but in reality she’s just skipping meals,” Eliott continued. “She hides at mealtime or spends most of it talking so you don’t notice how little she’s eating.”

“She just pushed her food around when she had dinner with me this week,” Martin confirmed. “I thought she just didn’t like it, but she just insisted she wasn’t that hungry.”

“I’ve tried to talk to her about it, but she insists she’s fine and that her chef blends shakes for her every morning with all of her necessary vitamins and minerals, but that’s not the point,” Eliott sighed. “I want to help her learn to love herself the way she is.”

“I’m gonna go find her,” Marinette said, standing up.

“Try the bathroom,” Eliott suggested as Marinette rushed off, and Adrien watched her go with a longing smile.

“Looks like both of our dates have run off,” he remarked to Martin.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to throw a wrench in your date,” Eliott said, rubbing the back of his head.

“It’s okay.” Adrien shrugged. “She’ll always jump at the opportunity to help. It’s why I love her so much.”

“Macy?” Marinette called, peeking her head into the bathroom and spotting her friend sitting in the chair across the room. She sniffled and rubbed at her eye as Marinette entered, throwing on a smile.

“Oh, Marinette, I was just-”

“Eliott told us.” Her face fell at that, and she shifted her gaze to her lap.

“I’m just trying to lose 2 kilos,” she insisted, and Marinette sat beside her.

“Macy, you don’t need to lose weight,” she said, placing a hand on Macy’s shoulder, but Macy rolled her eyes.

“Easy for you to say. You’re so small and cute,” she grunted.

“And you’re tall and curvy and beautiful and in really good shape,” Marinette shot back, and Macy pursed her lips.

“I do a lot of cardio.” She shrugged, biting her lip. “I just wish I looked like you. Boys like small and cute.”

“Depends on the boy,” Marinette said, nudging her. “Martin really likes you the way you are.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

“I’m afraid that he’s going to find someone thinner and prettier and forget all about me,” she said, covering her face. “Boys don’t like fat girls.”

“That’s not true,” Marinette prompted, but Macy averted her gaze. “Macy-”

A loud boom shook the building, and the girls clung to each other with shrieks. The lights flicked above their head, and Marinette’s jaw clenched.

“That wasn’t a normal blast,” she said. “Someone must have been akumatized.”

“Oh, I should go find Martin,” Macy gasped, jumping up.

“You go on ahead; I’ll go make sure everyone gets to safety,” Marinette said, gesturing in the opposite direction, though as soon as Macy rounded the corner, she stepped back into the bathroom to transform.

Chat Noir was already on the scene when she arrived, and this akuma was a doozy. Apparently, Macy’s father had gotten upset with his opponent for cheating during their game, and now sought revenge with his golf ball grenades.

“Someone has quite the explosive temper,” Chat said as they dodged back.

“We’re gonna need a little luck to beat this one. Lucky Charm!” She eyed the folding fan in her hands contemplatively. “A little luck and an ally. I’ve gotta go to Master Fu!”

“Make it quick or cat sashimi is gonna show up on the next menu.” Her partner cupped his hand to his throat and stuck out his tongue as she shot off.

“Master Fu, I need a Miraculous!” Marinette burst through the door to his apartment.

“Do you have someone in mind?” Master Fu smiled, retrieving the box from the phonograph.

“Um,” she hummed, pursing her lips and surveying her options.

She could pick Martin or Eliott again, but she wasn’t sure she needed the turtle or the fox. There was Chloe, but she was too far away, and her power needed to get close which wasn’t an option. She needed something with range…

“Can I use this one?” She lifted the rabbit’s crescent shaped pin from its compartment.

“If it is the one you need,” he said with a nod.

“Thank you, Master. I’ll bring it back!” She dropped it into her purse and darted off.

When Ladybug made it back, she swung in just in time to catch her kitty as he was launched into the air. He shot her a grateful look as they landed then glanced around.

“Weren’t you supposed to bring back help?” He cocked a brow, and she held out the hair pin with a wince.

“I have a Miraculous now I just need to find a user,” she explained, and Chat brandished his staff.

“You work on that. I’ll deal with him,” he said, spinning his staff to deflect another ball.

“Daddy!”

Ladybug and Chat Noir paused as Macy climbed atop a picnic table and placed her hands on her hips. Martin and Eliott looked on from the entrance to the clubhouse worriedly.

“That’s enough! This is insane,” she called, and her father glanced her way with a scowl.

“No one cheats on my course! This doesn’t concern you, now go inside before you get hurt,” Golfer ordered, but Macy stood her ground.

Chat tackled Golfer while he was distracted, sending several balls flying, and Macy watched as one bounced off a chair, ricocheting toward her. She closed her eyes, but strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her off just in time. When she opened them again, she saw the ground flying past her and glanced up to see Ladybug’s dark hair.

“That was very brave of you, but also incredibly reckless,” Ladybug chided gently when they landed on the roof.

“That’s my dad,” Macy said with pleading eyes. “Please help him.”

Ladybug eyed her for a long moment before a smile curled on her lips. If there was any way to boost Macy’s confidence…

“Tell you what, why don’t you help for real?” She said, retrieving the box and holding it out to her. “Macy Chanteur, this is the Miraculous of the rabbit which grants the power of teleportation. You will use it for the greater good and return it to me at the end of the mission.”

“Wait, is this for real?” Macy gasped, cupping her cheeks. “You want to make me a hero?”

“Why not? You’ve shown that you’re brave,” Ladybug said.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’m good enough,” Macy lowered her gaze, and Ladybug placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Let me tell you a secret. Anyone can be a hero by choosing to stand up for what’s right, and you’ve done just that,” Ladybug said, placing the box in her hands. “I’m not making you a hero. You already are one. I’m just giving you superpowers.”

Macy turned the box over in her hands before pressing her lips together with a nod. Lifting the lid, she winced against the light, eyebrows raising as her kwami materialized.

“Hello there, new friend,” Fluff giggled, floating around her.

“Whoa, does every Miraculous come with a cute pet?” Macy poked at her giddily.

“I’m not a pet; I’m a kwami. I grant you magical powers. All you have to do is say ‘Fluff, transform me!’”

“Okay. Fluff, transform me!”

Macy glanced down at her costume with wide eyes, a smile stretching across her lips, and Ladybug took her wrist.

“Come on. Let’s go save your dad.”

Chat Noir flew through the air after a blast from a golf ball, landing at their feet as they touched down again. He blinked up at them with a groan.

“Hey, you found someone. Great,” he coughed as Ladybug offered him a hand.

“Ladybug!” Martin and Eliott called.

“It’s not safe here. You two need to leave,” she ordered.

“Not without Macy,” Martin said, and Bunny smiled.

“Macy is safe and sound, and more than anything she wants you two safe as well, kay?” She blew them a kiss before following Chat and Ladybug into the action.

Bunny swung her mallet just in time to deflect a golf bomb before it exploded, and Golfer’s eyes narrowed.

“A bit lowbrow fighting a golfer with croquet, Ladybug. Can’t you afford more than a cheap knock-off sport?” He grunted, and Bunny cocked a hip.

“If I’m more skilled than you are with a mallet then what does that say about your golf game?” She quirked a brow, and Golfer let out a growl before hurdling several more balls in their direction.

“We can’t get close to him,” Chat said as they dodged, and Ladybug pursed her lips.

Landing on a table, she summoned her Lucky Charm, eyebrows furrowing as a tennis racket landed in her hands. She turned it over as Golfer’s mocking laughter echoed across the field.

“You really should learn your sports, Ladybug,” he chortled as she glanced around, singling in on his golf balls, Bunny, Chat Noir, and the racket.

“Maybe it’s you who needs to get a little more creative,” she shot back. “Bunny, Chat Noir, follow my lead!”

Ladybug charged forward again, her partners following suit, and Golfer rolled his eyes before swinging another hoard of balls. Chat and Bunny deflected several, and Ladybug lobbed one back at Golfer with her racket. He watched it bounce toward him with wide eyes before it detonated, sending him flying. Ladybug eyed his club as it twirled into the air.

“You’re up, Bunny!”

“Burrow!” Bunny called, spinning her mallet, and a blue portal opened beneath the club as it fell, transporting it into Chat Noir’s waiting Cataclysm.

“No!” Golfer shouted as it dissolved into dust, revealing a small black butterfly.

“No more evildoing for you, little akuma.”

Bunny paced over to help her father up as he blinked in confusion.

“What happened?” He groaned, rubbing his head.

“You were akumatized because your opponent cheated to win,” she explained. “If you ask me, I would just ban him from the course since you’re a part-owner.”

“That is true,” he said, cupping his chin. “I shouldn’t have gotten so work up when I decide who golfs here.”

“It happens to the best of us,” Ladybug assured him as she and Chat approached.

“Thank you, Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Bunny,” he said before Eliott and Martin ran up with his wife.

“Mr. Chanteur!”

“Eliott! Where is Macy?”

Bunny and Ladybug exchanged grins before the trio bumped fists.

“Pound it!”

***

“Macy!” Eliott and Martin raced up to her as she exited the clubhouse, Lisette, Marinette, and Adrien in tow.

“Are you alright?” Eliott asked.

“Yeah, Ladybug helped me get to safety,” she said, waving it away.

“I’m glad.” Martin pulled her in for a long hug, and she leaned her head against his with a smile.

“Well, the staff is setting up our lunch again,” Eliott said, gesturing over his shoulder.

“Good because I’m really about to starve now,” Lisette moaned, but Macy took a step back.

“I’m gonna go check on my dad. I’ll meet up with you guys,” she said before quickly pacing off, and Eliott sighed.

“She’ll get there,” Lisette said, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him back, though he cast a frown over his shoulder in the direction Macy went.

Eliott wasn’t the only one bothered by Macy’s mealtime avoidance, and several hours later, Marinette sat on the steps of the Trocadero, eyes trained ahead as she picked at the corner of her sketchbook. Even after becoming a hero, Macy still lacked confidence in herself, and Marinette’s mind churned with worry.

Adrien noticed her frown as she approached with ice cream and sat beside her.

“Still blocked?” He asked, offering her a spoonful, and she accepted it with a sigh, flicking her gaze to the pile of crumbled sheets beside her.

“I’m just not getting anything,” she said, leaning against her fist. “I can’t stop thinking about Macy.”

“Did you talk to her?” Adrien asked, popping a small spoon into his mouth.

“Yeah, but it didn’t help,” she sighed, glancing down at her blank page.

Adrien eyed her as she stuffed ice cream into her mouth with a defeated pout before wrapping an arm around her.

“You’ll think of something. I promise,” he said softly, and she took a deep breath before picking up her pencil again.

“I want to design something for Macy. Even if I don’t make the deadline, I could still give it to her as a gift,” she said, tilting her head in thought.

“I think she’d like that, and who knows, maybe it will get your creative juices flowing,” Adrien urged, and she pursed her lips, pencil hovering over the page briefly before she set to work.

Adrien watched as she scribbled away, finishing off the ice cream and watching people pass. After a while, Marinette held up her sketchbook with a smile, and Adrien leaned over to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“That looks great,” he complimented. “Macy will love it.”

Marinette lowered the book to her lap contently, glancing up at the woman walking past with her dog and feeling her heart jolt. In an instant, she pictured a flowing gown to accentuate her hips, and a colorful suit for the man carrying a bag of bread. The world around her blossomed, every shadow, every person, every print, every color filled her mind with ideas.

Up until now, she hadn’t known what she wanted her brand to represent. She had no direction, no inspiration, but in one moment, she realized that she didn’t want her designs to be worn by models but by ordinary people like Macy. Everyone deserved to feel beautiful, and maybe then people would learn to love themselves.

“Marinette?” She blinked, turning to Adrien who cocked a brow.

“I have to go home,” she said, closing her sketchbook and stuffing it into her bag.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and leaning to kiss his cheek. “I have a lot of designs to make.”

“You find your muse?” He asked as she stood up.

“I found my muse!” She called over her shoulder as she trotted down the stairs. “See you later! Oh, and thanks for the ice cream!”

Adrien watched her go, leaning back on his hands with a smile. So much for their date, but he had faith that she would come up with something amazing. If he believed in anyone, he believed in her.

***

“Ugh, let me tell you about the horrible shoes my masseuse was wearing the other day. I could barely relax staring down at them,” Audrey rambled at dinner two nights later.

Adrien tuned her out, skewering a piece of broccoli with his fork as she prattled on. Chloe seemed distracted beside him as well, not engrossed in her mother’s tale like she normally would which surprised him. His father had even joined them, so Chloe’s lack of showboating was odd.

“I’m curious to know, Audrey, what were your impressions of the awards show,” Gabriel asked, and Audrey lowered her wine glass with a groan.

“Dreadful! Utterly dreadful. Those designers should be ashamed of themselves,” she said. “Although, that funny little girl who won your contest made a piece for Miss Nightingale that was promising.”

“Yes, I took notice of it too,” Gabriel nodded. “Her style is very unique, but I felt it fit Clara’s personality nicely.”

“I can’t believe you’re letting her date your son,” Audrey said, flicking her gaze over to Adrien who straightened a little. “She’s a bit, how shall we say, financially challenged.”

“She surrounds herself with notable company, and talent like hers won’t stay underground for long. Clara’s gown is proof of that,” Gabriel replied simply, and Audrey pursed her lips.

“Speaking of, she owes me a portfolio,” Audrey tapped her chin. “I do not like to be kept waiting.”

Chloe and Adrien’s shoulders curled, and they exchanged nervous glances.

Jean approached the table, clasping his hands behind his back, and Audrey cocked an impatient brow.

“It would appear that Mme. Bourgeois has a visitor,” he reported, and Audrey’s eyes narrowed.

“Who dares interrupt my dinner?” She scoffed, setting her glass down a little too forcefully.

“A Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.” Adrien and Chloe perked up.

“Ugh, it’s about time. Send her in,” Audrey gave a permitting wave, and Jean retreated to fetch her.

“Is now a bad time?” Marinette winced as she approached.

“Time is money, darling, and you are wasting mine,” Audrey said. “Hurry up.”

“Right.” Marinette set down her easel and fumbled with her sketchpad, prompting an eyeroll from Audrey. “Um, so I’ve been thinking a lot about the message I want to send with my brand, and I’ve decided that I don’t want to be another designer pushing one standard of beauty.”

Audrey yawned, and Marinette shot Adrien a panicked look. He nodded her on, and she took a deep breath.

“I want to redefine what it means to be beautiful to include more types of people. I believe that everyone deserves to feel beautiful no matter what they look like,” she said, and Audrey blinked in boredom. “I want to design things that everyone can wear. Things that will make everyone feel beautiful so they don’t have to try to fit into a single mold.”

“A body-positive line?” Audrey quirked a brow.

“Yes.” Marinette nodded with a gulp.

“Too risky.” Audrey waved it away, picking up her glass. “The industry will eat you alive.”

“It is rather bold,” Gabriel agreed, rubbing his chin, and Marinette’s shoulders stiffened.

“This industry is about taking risks and being bold,” she said, flipping the cover of her sketchbook. “I know that it’s asking a lot, but this is the statement I want to make.”

Audrey glanced out of the corner of her eye before turning to face her, removing her sunglasses slowly. She and Gabriel stood up in unison, moving around the table to get a better look. Beside them, Marinette clasped her hands together tightly, heart beating a thousand times a minute.

Adrien placed a reassuring hand on her back, and Chloe quirked a brow on her other side as Audrey turned the page with a gasp.

“Ohh,” she cooed, examining each design. “Magnificent. Utterly magnificent!”

“Oh, that’s creative,” Gabriel remarked about the next one, and Audrey flicked her gaze back up to Marinette.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Normally, I’d turn down a concept like this, but with designs like these, I can see this going somewhere, so…I will back you.”

“Thank you, Mme. Bourgeois! Thank you! Thank you!” Marinette bowed as Audrey flipped another page.

“What is this black smudge?” She asked, and Marinette curled her shoulders.

“Mascara. It was a rough week,” she explained sheepishly.

“Ah, the creative process.” Gabriel nodded in understanding as Audrey took pictures of each page.

“Jean, send these to our tailors,” Audrey demanded, passing him her phone, “and pick up some water-proof mascara for Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

“Yes, madame,” he said with a bow, and Audrey hugged the sketchpad to her chest.

“I could look at these all night,” she sighed. “I think I’d like to have dessert on the terrace. Sinclair!”

“I look forward to seeing your first line, Marinette,” Gabriel said, casting her a smirk. “Excellent work.”

Marinette’s cheeks flushed as everyone followed after Audrey, but Adrien remained by her side.

“I’m going to walk Marinette out, father,” he said, and Gabriel gave a permissive nod.

As they entered the elevator, Marinette breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing her shoulders, and Adrien hit the button for the lobby. A smile broke over her lips as the doors closed, but before she could open her mouth to speak, Adrien grabbed onto her waist and pulled her lips to his.

His other hand cupped her jaw, lips parting into hers as he pulled her in closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, stretching on her tip toes as he kissed her dizzy, and when they pulled away, their ragged breaths burned hot on each other’s lips.

“I knew you could do it,” he said breathlessly, a wide smile stretching up to his eyes. “You’re amazing.”

He touched his lips to hers again, holding her tight, and she melted into his embrace with a moan, resting her head on his shoulder when he pulled away.

“I did it,” she said, blinking in disbelief. “I actually did it.”

“With a day to spare no less,” Adrien chuckled. “You really are incredible, Marinette.”

“You were the one who never gave up on me,” she said, biting her lip, and Adrien pressed his forehead to hers.

“You ready to stop Lila?” He asked, and Marinette smirked.

“I’m ready to change the world.”

#miraculous ladybug #mdcsp original #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette #mdcsp #my writing

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shireness-says · 4 years

Text

Election Day

Summary: This is, arguably, the stupidest thing her best friend has ever done. So how in the hell did Charlie Jones get dragged into it? A 5B Divergence 'verse future snippet. ~1.8K. Rated T for language. Also on AO3.

A/N: @snidgetsafan and I plotted this out a couple of months ago, and it remains an absolutely ridiculous idea. Hopefully in a good way. I love the dynamic of these two idiots.

Tagging: @thejollyroger-writer, @profdanglaisstuff, @captainsjedi, @ultraluckycatnd, @superchocovian, @snowbellewells, @killianjones4ever82, @ohmakemeahercules, @let-it-raines, @lifeinahole27, @kmomof4, @scientificapricot, @spartanguard, @courtorderedcake, @justanotherwannabeclassic, @teamhook, @thisonesatellite

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

~~~~~~

“This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Charlie grumbles to her best friend - former best friend? That may depend on the next two weeks - from their table in front of the town gazebo. Their campaign table. For the mayoral campaign that Vera decided to stage.

You can’t make this shit up.

Honestly, it fucking figures that this is how Vera Mills-Locksley would stage a bout of teenage rebellion. Vera had inherited none of the malevolence but all of the attitude of her mothers - biological and adopted. Generally, that means she’s more bark than bite, more prone to mouthing off than actually doing anything (or at least doing anything genuinely shitty - Charlie’s found herself helping with more than her share of insane ideas over the years). There had been an incident last month about curfew, though, after they and Gideon French had got home a little late from a bit of post-football celebrating. Okay, an hour late. Charlie kind of understands why Aunt Regina had blown her top - this was Storybrooke, after all, where anything could happen. It definitely didn’t help that they hadn’t called or texted. It was probably a small miracle that Fitz or Dorothy hadn’t stopped them in the cruiser.

Still. Vera was… well, Vera, and even if the town agrees that she’s generally a good kid, Charlie knows from long experience that she doesn’t like being told what to do. The really unfortunate moment had come when the redhead had realized that she’d turn 18 only two days before the mayoral election - the election that, until then, Aunt Regina was running unopposed in. For an office that would allow Vera to change the curfew time.

And when you phrase it like that, it’s almost too easy for a teenager with an attitude and an interesting concept of justice to decide that she’s going to run for mayor and drag her best friend along with her.

The Demon Teen in question (title patent pending, and possibly subject to change if it turns out that Charlie can achieve a new level of frustration before the actual election) hums skeptically. “Is it though? What about the time we borrowed your dad’s boat for that party?”

“Ship,” Charlie answers automatically after years spent in the Jones household. Unfortunately, Vera has a point; it definitely wasn’t one of their brighter moments, though in Charlie’s defense, Christian Erikson was just as good a kisser as he was cute. Still, she’d ended up grounded for a month and scraping barnacles, plus treated to a great safe sex refresher course after her dad had discovered Vera and Gideon trying to get things going in one of the crew cabins. All in all, a goddamn shit show. “But fine, second stupidest thing we’ve ever done. You do admit this is stupid, though?”

“Oh, undeniably,” Vera scoffs. “It’s only stupid if we don’t win though.”

“Ok, that is not how it works.”

“Hey, it’s my plan, it works however I want it to. Jeez, it’s almost like you don’t want to be my vice-mayor.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Charlie mutters under her breath, before continuing less subtly. “That’s not even a thing.”

“Again, my plan, so I say it is.” As some poor unsuspecting townsperson walks by, she quickly plasters on a grin. “Would you like a campaign button?” she calls. “Vote Mills-Locksley for Mayor on November 4th!”

“Okay, so if it’s a thing, what does a ‘vice-mayor’ even do?” Charlie continues once Mr. Harris is out of earshot.

“Fuck if I know,” Vera admits flippantly. “Look, it’s a good campaign decision. You’re a Jones, and a Charming for that matter. That means something in this town. I may be more charismatic and better suited —” Charlie squawks in protest at that - no one would ever claim that Vera is well suited to be mayor in any reality - but her best friend plows on ahead “— but you’re more…”

“Trustworthy?”

“That’s the one.” You had to give Vera that - she was always fully aware of how people might see her, considering her bloodline, and somehow still managed not to punch people for it. That was more Charlie’s job, anyways. “Now try to look happy, someone’s coming.”

Charlie squints into the distance, only to recognize the familiar gait. “That’s just Dad.”

At least he comes bearing coffee cups from Granny’s. “There’s my favorite candidates!” he calls as he approaches.

“You know I can’t actually serve any office, right?” Charlie questions wryly (not snaps or snarks or any other adjective the look on her father’s face suggests - just questions). “I won’t be eighteen until May. I am literally just a campaign tactic, and a pretty obvious one at that.”

“Play nice, Bean,” her dad murmurs as passes Charlie a travel cup before changing back to a normal volume. “Now, that’s a hot chocolate for you, sweetheart, with cinnamon of course. And Vera, a s’mores mocha for you.”

“Thanks, Captain Jones,” Vera smiles with that politician smile she’s perfected in the past few weeks. Honestly, for a girl who’s never shown a lick of interest in politics in her life - and Charlie’s been there for the vast majority of it, she would know - the redhead sure has adapted quickly.

“I believe that’s more respect than you’ve ever showed me in your life, Miss Mills-Locksley,” the pirate replies with that same wry tone Charlie uses. She had to learn it somewhere, after all. “It would have been much more appreciated when I found you and Gideon French trying to defile my ship, but beggars can’t be choosers, as the saying goes.”

“I think they also say ‘better late than never’,” Vera points out. “Also, ‘what’s done is done’.”

Charlie turns to look at her friend in disbelief. “Really helping your cause, aren’t you?”

“Out of necessity, diplomacy has become my greatest strength.” God, Charlie hopes she’s kidding. Or being sarcastic. Or literally anything but meaning that sincerely, because the truth of the matter is that there’s only so much a human being can believe and a diplomatic Vera Mills-Locksley isn’t one of those things.

“Yeah, sure it has,” Charlie settles for mumbling under her breath. Mutinously seems like a good descriptor, here, if she’s looking to become even more like her dad than everyone already claims she is.

(It’s the hair and the ears and maybe a bit of the face, honestly. The eyes and the attitude are all from her mom.)

Vera shoots her a bit of a dirty look, but the plastered-on smile is back only a moment later to schmooze Charlie’s dad. “What can we do for you today, Captain?” she makes sure to emphasize, probably to throw them both off. It would be totally in character, honestly.

“I was hoping to procure some more buttons please, future Madam Mayor.”

“Oh my God,” Charlie groans. “How could you have possibly gotten rid of all of those so quickly? We gave you, like, 50 a couple of days ago.” Her dad is arguably - hell, definitely the biggest supporter of this poorly planned campaign. Mom had just kind of rolled her eyes, though Charlie could spot a smile too; Uncle Robin mostly seemed conflicted between pride at Vera’s ambition and disappointment at her effort to spite her mother. And Aunt Regina was flat out pissed, and trying not to show it so that Vera couldn’t accuse her of undermining the sanctity of the election (they were cut from the same cloth, nurture over nature, and Vera totally would). Dad, though… Dad clearly thought that this unexpected campaign was the best and funniest thing to happen in Storybrooke in ages, a callback to his chaos pirate days or something. He handed out buttons at the docks, and at the Sheriff’s station, and at Granny’s - especially if Aunt Regina was there to see it.

“I’m just here to support the cause,” he says smoothly. Not that Charlie believes that for a second; even though she’s sure he is proud, in his own weird way, it’s definitely for his own entertainment too. She halfway remembers him running for mayor one year when she was a kid just to piss Aunt Regina off. Maybe she’s carrying on the world’s stupidest family tradition or something.

“Now tell me, Madam Mayor,” he continues, deftly ignoring Charlie’s irritation and general foul mood - seriously, you’d think he’d be more considerate of his daughter - “what will you do first, once you’re elected?”

“Oh, we’re so not winning the election,” Vera snorts.

“Now lass, I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I’m told that the democratic system is full of surprises - ”

Despite Dad’s best attempts at encouragement, Vera just keeps laughing. “Oh no. I won’t. I’m a friggin’ teenager running for mayor, it’s not going to happen. And even if it does, I’ll resign after a week at most. I’ve still got high school and college and drama club, I don’t have time to be mayor.”

“So this is just to get back at your mother, then?” Dad asks. “On the one hand, I’m always happy to see Regina sweat a bit, but as a parent I feel like I shouldn’t encourage this kind of mutiny, lass.”

Charlie takes a sip of her hot chocolate, leaning back to watch the show. Frankly, this looks like it will be the most entertaining part of this whole idiotic affair.

The half a grimace that Vera pulls in response sure is a look, at least. “I mean, kind of? But mostly I’m hoping to get some bargaining power. I figure, if I concede - or at least resign and give the office back to Mom… maybe we can negotiate an extended curfew.”

It’s diabolical, truly. Charlie’s kind of impressed, not that she’ll ever admit it. Her dad clearly is, too, as he barks out a laugh and grins back at Vera. “That’s quite the plan you’ve concocted, Miss Mills-Locksley. A pirate after my own heart. You have my vote.”

“Thanks, Uncle Kil; I’ll be counting on that the Tuesday after next.”

———

They do lose, of course; they’re a couple of teenagers running for office, one more willingly than the other. It was inevitable, no matter how many campaign buttons Killian Jones hands out everywhere in town.

There is a negotiation, however, where Vera agrees to give a concession speech supporting her mother’s re-election in return for a revised curfew. The extra hour on Friday and Saturday nights isn’t much, but it feels like a big victory now that all is said and done. Charlie’s just glad it’s over; she certain won’t be pursuing a career in politics.

(The button, however, stays on her dad’s desk in a special little frame Mom bought just for him. She’s never going to outrun the whole fiasco, but as far as Dad’s concerned, maybe that’s not all bad.)

#captain swan #cs ff #future fic #my writing #Election Day #If I Could See Your Face Once More #Vera is kind of a little shit #and Charlie is so done #I love them both

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rosy-avenger · 4 years

Note

I don't have the will to vote anymore. Not when even our own government is mudding our democracy and every win feels like a loss. People drowning and ignoring facts. States with the smallest population controlling our fate and taking everything backwards. Where evil is being rewarded. No justice. Where even I am hating this country and just want it to end. Hope belongs to someone else now.

Hm. I don’t want to invalidate your feelings, because I get it. But we’re far from the point where hope is lost.

The impeachment is happening because we flipped the House in 2018. We can do that again. There are more Democrats, and people who might not be Democrats but are opposed to Republicanism, than there are Republicans. If we step back, they win. If we stand up, they lose. And no, voting won’t fix everything immediately; a lot of politicians even among Democrats are no good. But it only feels like all politicians are bad and corrupt because they’re the ones who’ve been getting elected. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but the Overton window can be pushed back to the left, and we can get more politicians like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who are smart and compassionate and competent and will do their jobs (ie, serve the needs of their constituents).

And honestly, unless your circumstances are very unusual, I can’t imagine you have anything to lose by voting. It doesn’t require blood sacrifice. The worst that can happen is you get your hopes up for nothing; the best that can happen is that we vote the bastards out.

When we vote, we’re not just voting to satisfy our own individual need for civic engagement; we vote for other people. On the state level, we vote for levees so schools, people with disabilities, etc get the funding they need. We vote for representatives and senators so the needs of the people in our home states are met. We vote for a president who will lead our country well, so everyone benefits. We vote for elected officials who will close the camps and return the children to their parents; who will tax the rich and return wealth to the 99%; who will stop screwing with other countries for no reason. I assume if you sent this to me that you care about the plight of people of color, the LGBT community, the working class, women, and so on. Do you want to keep the benefits of political change away from them, just because you don’t have any hope?

And I have to disagree that there’s no justice happening. Yeah it’s not a great time for justice but it is still happening.

If there’s one thing I know, it’s that giving up won’t help. I’m a spiteful, selfish millennial, and there is no way in hell I will step back and let Republicans, right-wingers, and na/zis take over my country. It’s mine, and it’s yours. People of color started it. Immigrants worked for it. Women raised it. The Right doesn’t get to take it away from us. It’s our country, not theirs, and I’m not giving it up. Are you?

#rosy talks #political stuff #general statement: if any russian spies want to step to me #just know that talking about this only gets me more fired up for political justice #you can't stop me #Anonymous

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militant-holy-knight · 5 years

Note

Also, what are your feelings about Jair Bolsonaro? It seems like every Brazilian I speak to either loves or hates him, like there is no middle position. What little I know about your country and what little I know about him, he seems like a good man with some good ideas.

You’d be surprised to know I feel all over the place about him. Let me explain why to a foreigner who doesn’t know much about him.

Much of what the MSM (specially the international one) reports about him, is exaggeration. Yes, he is more right-winged than Donald Trump (by his own admission), but Nazis aren’t marching on the streets, “minorities” aren’t being targeted and stuff like that. Even then he is also right about a couple of things like:

Pointing out that the Atlantic slave trade was largely provided by Africans enslaving their defeated enemies and selling them to the Westerners, and the notion of “historical debt” is pointless.

Some of his policies are good like promoting gun rights and establishing the death penalty for severe criminals.

I also like the idea of an Christian nationalist president who is committed to defend the boundaries of Christendom and Western culture in Brazil, the second most Christian country in the world after the USA of course.

Pointing out the migrant crisis in Europe was an catastrophe which is one of the reasons why some Brazilians I know voted for him - even though that is a largely baseless fear since Brazil doesn’t have a program for sustaining invaders or promising benefits to them like the USA or Europe.

With all that said… He had done some truly embarrassing and indefensible things:

He stated that in a political speech he had five kids with the first four being men, but had a daughter in the end because he got a “little weak”. He also said he wouldn’t rape a female politician critical of him because “she is too ugly”. These are things he said out in the open and relatively recently mind you.

He defends the military dictatorship period of the 60-80s as an golden era in our history rather than the blot it was. It’s very hypocritical for him to do this considering that his promises of arming the populace and being comitted to freedom of speech ran contrary to what happened back then (where people were disarmed and free speech was repressed).

In spite of being nominally a Catholic Christian, he suggested surrogacy for LGBT couples despite surrogacy being a no no. His own positions on LGBT people also don’t help us - him being right or wrong about them is not the point, the point is that it gives plenty of ammo to his critics, so it was better off if he kept his mouth shut.

I also have concerns about how he will handle gun distribution, I am all for Brazilian honest, hard-working citizens feeling safe, but I hope this doesn’t backfire somehow. We gonna have to see how this pans out though.

But in the end though… I think this speaks more about the Brazilian left than anything else because they have been in power for more than 15 years and during this time, they have been involved in scandals, corruptions, taxes were increased, crime is rampant in Brazil (I am not exaggerating when I say there is not a single Brazilian who hasn’t been mugged or victim of violence - myself included), hospitals and schools have been abandoned and stuff like that. The Brazilian left doesn’t give a shit about the people, they only cared about being in control and lining up their pockets.

This is why he won the election… And the fact he won despite saying things that would have killed any normal politician’s career makes the left’s defeat all more embarrassing. His biggest rival Lula was barred from running due to being involved in corruption, his replacement Fernando Haddad being formerly the mayor of a city he left in a mess and not being so clean himself. Also Haddad was such a boring ass politician in his own right that he would have lost in any normal election because his platform boiled down to “AT LEAST I AM NOT BOLSONARO”. And now the left is in complete shambles and doesn’t know what to do.

The foreign liberals freak out out about him because they didn’t expect such a populist emerging from a place they largely ignore and they don’t know how to deal with him. They are seeing these national populists emerging from the wood works, heralding a worldwide turn to the right-wing that now Western liberals are willing to prop up a communist shithole like Venezuela (and unintentionally siding with dictatorships like Russia, Turkey, Iran and China) rather than allow yet another nationalist like Juan Guado take place.

So in short, he wouldn’t be my first candidate of choice. There are some things I like about him in theory, but not so much in action, but he is the best option we have in the world scenario. I know foreigners love him as the “Brazilian Trump”, but really thoughI’d have an easier time supporting and defending Trump than Bolsonaro.

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kiruuuuu · 5 years

Text

Ignorance is Blitz

Dearest @magehir, I wish you a happy birthday and all the best 💖💖 May this next year bring all that you need. Thank you for existing, putting up with me and infecting me with the worst kinds of ideas :) This is a first part to the long-promised Wikihow fic, though it functions just as well as a standalone, and I hope you enjoy it! (hints for Blitz/Rook, Rating T, humour/fluff, ~5k words)

“How to give passive-aggressive gifts for Christmas”, Mute murmurs.

Rook’s brain shuts off mid-sentence. He supposes this is one of the situations where people claim to be thinking of a million possible responses when his thoughts have instead come to a screeching halt and the last syllable died on his tongue, never to be accompanied by its brethren which would’ve formed the rest of the term best describing the all you can eat buffet he went to recently: culinary extravaganza.

“How to find hot people to be friends with on Facebook”, Mute adds just as quietly as before, apparently oblivious to the sudden silence as his two friends merely stare at him in vague disturbance. “How to act like a modern vampire.”

“What the fuck”, Rook addresses him and attempts to catch a glimpse of his screen, now thoroughly concerned. “I hope to god this isn’t your google search history you’re reading right now or else we’ll have to start carrying around garlic soon.”

Mute, now having finally noticed their attention, is grinning down at his phone and announces: “How to hide an erection.”

“I could’ve used advice on that in school”, Glaz states drily, startling Rook into a laugh.

“How to be okay with having a communist friend.”

“Are those actual – what the hell are you reading?”

It’s yet another one of their lazy days, meaning they’re draped over various pieces of furniture, dying of boredom and hoping fate plops anything exciting into their laps. Their standards keep dropping with every passing second and it’s happened before that a small caterpillar became the highlight of one of their afternoons – they spent more than an hour simply feeding it and watching it eat and Glaz ended up almost crying when Sledge threw it outside to motivate them for kitchen duty. At this point, Rook would give his left arm for a balloon or a piece of string, though he keeps dismissing Mute’s claims about the internet harbouring enough entertainment to last several lifetimes. Maybe he just doesn’t know where to look, however.

“How to trick people into thinking you’re possessed.”

“Step one: be Mark Chandar on too many energy drinks.” Mute throws the Frenchman a glare and earns an innocent smile in return. “Seriously though, pretending to be possessed by a demon must be hilarious around Maestro, he’d probably cry.”

“He’d cry for you”, Mute informs him. “With me, he’d offer to put me down before even thinking twice about an exorcism. Do you think we should pick one of these stupid articles and actually do what it says? It could be entertaining.”

“Are there any remotely nice ones?”, Glaz wants to know hopefully. “Like ‘how to break into somebody’s room and clean it without their knowledge’?”

“Oh, here’s one for Jules – ‘how to love’.”

Before Rook can even threaten bodily harm, Glaz sighs and mumbles: “That one I definitely don’t need to read.”

Fighting down the urge to just hug him and never let him go so no one can ever hurt him again, Rook suggests: “They probably have stupid suggestions for really normal things too, don’t they? Like really detailed descriptions of how to shower for example, we can take those and exaggerate them a bit. How does that sound?”

“In that case I’ve got the perfect example”, Mute replies excitedly. “How to date. Short and sweet but the very first point is setting yourself up for success, so this should be good. If we follow this like a recipe, we’ll be dating left and right no problem.”

“Somehow, I doubt that”, Glaz sighs. “Who do you even want to date?”

“What do you mean, ‘you’? Shouldn’t you be the one to do it?”

“I’ll do it”, Rook volunteers to gloss over the fact that the last time Glaz asked anyone out on a date was likely ten years ago whereas he himself flirts with everything that moves, therefore making an unsuccessful attempt sting less. “So, how do I trick myself into being successful?”

“Define your expectations”, Mute quotes the article with a grin. “Are you looking for a lifetime commitment?”

“Sorry, mystery guy, but I’m already in a committed relationship with -”

“- yourself”, Glaz butts in, making Mute snort and break out into immature giggling as soon as he notices Rook’s indignant expression.

“… I was going to say my bed and food, but I guess that works. Thank you for the vote of confidence, in any case. Am I that self-absorbed? I don’t think I am, I’m a good listener, right? And it’s not like I talk over people or ignore them, or as if I’m lacking awareness of talking too much about myself. You wouldn’t call me egocentric, would you? I definitely don’t fit all of the criteria, after all I’m not -”

“Decide how you want to date”, Mute interrupts him quite rudely, Rook finds. “You’re absolutely not going to snag anyone on the internet, we may be out for a laugh but you’re not catfishing anyone.”

“Why would I catfish?! The only fitting part of that is the fish, since I’m a real catch”, Rook protests and causes the other two to groan.

“Yeah, no, I’m not letting you on the internet because you’d need a likeable personality for it. Oh, one of the options is having a friend set you up. I like that – Glaz, who should he try to date?”

“Craig”, the Russian deadpans immediately. Concerned silence follows as the other two attempt to assess whether he’s joking or not. “You can go watch a film with him and get kicked out when he won’t stop talking loudly.”

“I’d say Seamus but -”

“- there’s no way I can compete with Italian sausage”, Rook chimes in and feels a grim satisfaction at Mute’s grimace. He really reacts as if they were talking about his real parents. “Have you seen his bruises? The worst I’ve done is accidentally slap someone in the face.”

Glaz is horrified. “How do you… accidentally?”

“Listen, I was drunk, the guy kept getting louder and louder about wanting me to spank him but I at that point didn’t know how it’s done, so I just…”

“Maybe this was a mistake”, Mute grumbles and rubs his temple. “I would have you date Seamus now just out of spite but he’d chuck you out the nearest window as soon as you started babbling nonsense or acting weird. We need someone who’s more lenient, ideally someone nice so they don’t hold a grudge when we tell them it was all for shits and giggles, maybe shy because then your chances are better, and someone who doesn’t dislike you. So Fuze is out.”

“What, why?”

“Are you telling me you’d like to date Fuze?”

“No, I mean – why doesn’t he like me? He never talks to me, but he never talks to anyone.”

“It could be the fact that you helped Dom dye his teeth blue while he slept. Not only is it fucking creepy, he also looked like he ate all the Smurfs for a day.”

“What about Elias?”

Again, Glaz’ contribution gives them pause, albeit a noticeably more pensive one this time. He’s right, what about Blitz? Together with Sledge, Thatcher and Montagne he makes up Team Dad, meaning they look out for everyone but especially the younger operators, take them under their wing – yet it also means neither of the three are particularly keen on details about their love lives, which is why Mute’s thoughts instantly went to Sledge as a form of punishment. Blitz is similar in that vein, though he fits the Brit’s description to the letter: he’s quick to forgive people, has an atrocious track record concerning relationships as far as they know and he seems to enjoy Rook’s company. He might indeed be a good target for this.

“Rather him than Gilles or Mike”, Rook hastens to reply as soon as he realises that if he rejects the German, this is where his friends’ worrisome thoughts are going to end up. Both of them could easily be his dad, unlike Blitz who might have a fatherly protective attitude towards his younger colleagues but at least no grey hairs yet.

“I’m sure you could win them over with your boyish innocence”, Mute deadpans, making Rook grimace. “They might be a tad too old for your tastes though. I think Mike even owns a Cat Stevens CD.”

“Remember how Elias and Marius talked about a DOS-based game? I think he is, too, but he’s the best out of the three.”

“Ten years older isn’t too old.”

Glaz and Rook exchange a meaningful glance and merely raise their brows at an increasingly flustered Mute who looks ready to smack himself in the face with his phone, given how much he’s suddenly fiddling with it. “I’m not sure we’re talking about Julien and Elias anymore”, the Russian states drily, and Rook nods up a storm.

“Look”, Mute begins to defend himself to two expectant expressions and eventually just sighs in frustration. “Whatever, let’s not talk about my crush -”

“Oh, so it is a crush now, is it?”

“Shut up.” Rook wasn’t aware that Mute’s ears could be this shade of red. “James is… a good friend right now.”

“You say this as if you hadn’t thought about whether he sounds in bed just like the time Seamus accidentally pelted him in the balls with Diana’s tennis ball and he whimpered for an hour straight.” Rook feels a rush of pride at his comment when Mute suddenly looks ready to murder. It seems like he hit the mark, just like Sledge had done: right in the crotch.

“He strikes me as someone who’s had dog slobber in that particular area before”, Glaz murmurs probably as an aside and looks almost shocked when Rook’s instant guffawing lets him know that he said this out loud. Even Mute doesn’t seem sure whether he should be horribly offended or deeply amused.

In the end, they do decide on Blitz being their victim. Glaz gets cold feet halfway through the conversation, raising the issue of morality and deceit but gets shot down quickly when Mute lists some of the pranks with which Bandit got away and which had exceedingly far-reaching consequences. The West wing of their building still has no running water. Not that Rook is complaining about sharing their showers with some of its occupants, no, not at all.

“We’re going to Bond you up”, Mute announces while digging through one of the many, many drawers in the workshop that are filled with… stuff. Rook is waiting for the day this stuff starts pouring out of every cupboard they have, because it means it’ll all get cleaned up and tidied by someone who’s not getting paid enough and maybe then they’ll find the remote for the TV again. He’s sick of bribing people to turn the volume up or down by pressing buttons on the device directly, especially because his candy stash has run low by now because of it.

“What are you guys doing?”

Only Rook and Glaz turn away from the unmanageable mess of cords, cables, plugs and other electric parts in which Mute is elbow deep right now, and maybe Rook should worry about it turning sentient and swallowing the Brit whole at some point, but right now he’s worrying about one thing only: the possibility of Bandit catching wind of what they’re doing. He’s pretending to make nonchalant small talk but really, he must’ve smelled blood. He always knows when they’re up to something.

“Befriending communists”, Glaz replies politely.

“Hiding boners”, Rook supplies.

Bandit’s eyes narrow suspiciously but he remains silent as Mute produces a triumphant noise and pulls out what looks like an earring attached to a cable and a few other things, with a small box at the end. “Here we go! You can wear this, Jules.”

“In my life I’ve only fucked one guy who wore earrings”, Bandit deems it necessary to divulge. “And when he got dressed, he’d do sock shoe sock shoe.”

Rook snorts. “I’m not surprised you’re friends with James since you seem to have prior experience with psychopaths.”

“Let’s go, boys, we have all we came for”, Mute tells them, an unambiguous signal to not engage Bandit any further or else he’s never going to leave them alone, and starts herding them out of the workshop. To their collective annoyance, Bandit follows, unperturbed by the waves of get lost rolling off of them.

“If I give you a Curly Wurly, will you leave us alone?”, Rook addresses him and earns a scoff.

“Please, as if I could be bribed with sweets. This is an interesting device you’re undoubtedly going to misuse somehow and I want to see where it’s going.”

“And four hobnobs. The ones with chocolate.”

“I just told you -”

“Add a chocolate orange to that.”

“Deal. Have fun!”

“I feel extraordinarily gay”, Rook mumbles into his collar and prays that no one else in the canteen is paying any attention to him hovering uncertainly at the edge of the room, waiting for Zofia to be done talking to his mark. Blitz looks comfortable in the middle of the room, paperwork spread out on the table before him and an open bag of crisps by his elbow – only he would still be working during his lunch break. Considering all the people in front of whom Rook could be thoroughly embarrassing himself, he’s one of the better options as his smile is not only contagious but also very pretty. So even if this will influence his reputation for a while, Blitz is likely to be a good sport about it all.

Rook is wearing an apron reading Kiss the cook because one of the items on Mute’s blasted list involved making him look ‘approachable’, and since the pink t-shirt they gifted Glaz with the slogan ‘single and ready to flamingle’ is in the wash, this was the next best option. The earring which serves as Mute’s and Glaz’ way of communicating with him during this whole ordeal is not only garish but unfortunately a clip-on, so Rook couldn’t refuse wearing it. He feels like a budget version of an undercover agent, only much, much shadier.

“You look it, too, so it’s perfect”, Mute’s tinny voice reassures him into his left ear. They’re both sitting at the other end of the canteen, sharing popcorn and crunching infuriatingly loudly into their mic. “Make eye contact, smile and raise your eyebrows – that’s the first step, according to this masterpiece.”

It’s the perfect opportunity to implement a technique Rook has mastered almost twenty years ago: he starts out by rolling his eyes over his friends but as soon as he notices Blitz looking over, Zofia nowhere in sight, it transforms into a bright smile. This instantaneous switch in facial expressions has served him well over the years, especially around unlikeable teachers or bosses – only this time, he thinks a little too much about what Mute has said and ends up with a manic grin instead of a friendly smile while lifting his brows so high he must look either utterly astonished or inexplicably anticipatory.

Glaz masks his snort as a cough whereas Blitz reciprocates his bloodthirsty smirk with a much milder lifting of the corners of his mouth. Even from this distance, Rook can detect his concern which is probably fighting Blitz’ omnipresent drive to be social, accepting and open-minded. He always looks like this when Twitch’s current explanation has left him lost half an hour ago or when Tachanka jovially reminisces about early Spetsnaz training (and who in the world thinks that being chased through a hallway filled with blood and guts by a massive dog in the middle of the night was in any way, shape or form fun).

He’s starting to feel bad. Only a little, but honestly, when Blitz put on the clothes his blind roommate laid out for him this morning (because how else does he explain his usual attire), he probably wasn’t expecting to become a wikihow experiment today.

“I swear you’re gonna make me choke on this popcorn”, Glaz mutters and, like clockwork, Rook immediately replies: “Sounds less entertaining than choking on cockporn.”

More strangled noises in his ear, but fortunately Mute takes over to rescue him from certain death via being cast out of society by informing him of the next step: “Indicate interest and project confidence during social situations. Go on, be interested and confident. You’re as great as you are misguided in one of those, and terrible at the other.”

Rook ignores the slight (really, just because he once paid no attention to what Mute was telling him and they ended up stranded in the wilderness with no more gas doesn’t make him a bad listener, and him self-assuredly flirting his way into some stranger’s car who then became a little too interested in him doesn’t necessarily mean he’s overconfident), and approaches his target with a cocksure swagger he’s practised for exactly three seconds on the way to the canteen. “Hey, what are you doing, I like you, is this equipment paperwork, I’ve actually done a ton of these so I’m an absolute pro, how are you this fine day?”

Blitz stares at him. Maybe Rook should’ve let the other two know that he gets the worst case of stage fright whenever he feels observed in social situations and that it manifests in casual blabbering. “I, uh, I’m good, thanks. Are you alright?”

He sounds hesitant and Rook can’t blame him. After plopping down opposite of the German with a slightly less manic smile, he attempts to ignore Mute and Glaz whom he can very clearly see over Blitz’ shoulder and who both seem to be shoving their fists into their mouths to try and not giggle too obviously. “Peachy”, he beams. “How’s the work going? Is it just as work-y as always?”

His contagious laugh falls on deaf ears, at least from the man he’s talking to. Glaz looks about ready to cry.

“I suppose so.” Bless Blitz for his endless patience. The doubtful tone is still present and betrays his suspicion of something going on, but as Rook neither attempts to steal or set fire to the papers nor to shove a cake into his face, he probably figures there’s no immediate danger. “Have you actually filled out these kinds of forms before?”

“Confidence”, Mute squeaks into his ear, still suppressing his mirth, and Rook suddenly wonders whether Smoke would like to know about the time Mute despaired over his new laptop not working, troubleshooting it for several days and refusing any and all outside help until an innocently passing-by Jäger pointed out that it wasn’t plugged in. So far, the event has been contained but Rook has long been waiting for an opportunity to unleash this knowledge.

“Of course, I used to do them all the time as homework, I could do them in my sleep”, Rook lies through his teeth.

“Great!” It seems Blitz failed to get the memo about projecting entirely misplaced confidence because he goes on to ask: “Could you help me with this one detail then? I’m not sure what -”

And while he explains his problem, Rook’s brain long having shut off, Mute informs him of the next step: “Make engaging small talk. Ask broad, open-ended questions like ‘so, what got you interested in rock-climbing’.”

“So, what got you interested in rock-climbing?”, Rook interrupts Blitz’ detailing completely out of the blue. A distance away, Glaz is putting his head in his hands.

Blitz forgets to close his mouth for a few seconds, and Rook almost wishes he didn’t stop talking but instead ignored Rook’s question entirely. “I… am not particularly interested in rock-climbing, if I’m honest. Why do you ask?”

And while Rook flounders and stutters out a non-committal oh, you know, Glaz, the absolute angel on his shoulder, decides to step in and save him: “Perfect opportunity, the next step is don’t take yourself too seriously. Try making a joke at your own expense if you say something you think is utterly stupid. You can save this, Julien, I believe in you.”

“Well, uh.” Think, think, think. Rook feels like Winnie the Pooh and barely stops himself from tapping his temple. As usual, his mouth is writing checks long before his brain has earned the money, and so he witnesses in unfortunately non-mute horror as the words come over his lips: “It’s just that your muscles are as hard as a rock and I suddenly thought how awesome it would be to go rock-climbing.”

Smooth.

Blitz is genuinely gaping now.

Behind him, Mute nearly falls off his chair while shaking with silent laughter, and Glaz is wearing the all too familiar expression of ‘if anyone asks, I will forever deny knowing you’.

“I, um, well, thanks? I guess? Julien, are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

“I’ve never felt better in my life.” Confidence, right? What was the other thing? Open-ended questions? “Speaking of, what do you want to achieve in life?”

How Blitz hasn’t gotten whiplash yet is a mystery. Maybe Rook will be able to make Mute laugh so hard he’ll drop dead. He’s looking a little blue in the face already. “Why do you ask? Do you really want to know?”

“Yes!”, Rook responds too forcefully and thanks whoever is responsible for Blitz being completely resistant to weird behaviour, merely accepting it as a fact of life and glossing over it. On second thought, the reason for this is most definitely Bandit and Rook would rather gnaw off his own toes than thank Bandit for anything.

Blitz’ eyes lower and he absent-mindedly moves some of the papers around. His entire demeanour… shifts. “I want to make a difference somehow. And I know this sounds horribly cliché, and everyone here has the same wish – but does that make it in any way less special? I don’t think so. We put our lives on the line to ensure some girl will have a mother when she grows up, to inspire some people to turn their life around, so that people have a roof over their head and peaceful sleep. And I don’t care if some say there’s better ways to do this. This is mine, this is something I’m good at, and my capabilities are useful here where they would be lost as a politician or anything else. And there always will be more to do, I’ll never be done, but that’s okay. I’ll know I’ve done a bit, and I’m happy with that already.”

Something flutters.

He hasn’t felt it in a while, not like this, usually stemming from a different place in his body or more concrete, aided by alcohol or general giddiness, but paradoxically his heartbeat is calming down despite the tingling sensation in his chest. Speechless, he stares at the man in front of him, trying to do what he always does when people’s sincerity makes him uncomfortable – joking about it in his head, react with sarcasm, discard the notion as sentimental or naive. Only right now, it’s his cynicism which feels fake instead of Blitz’ words.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you with a speech”, the German adds sheepishly and laughs a little. It’s cute. It’s the cutest thing Rook has seen today and if he does that thing where he scratches the back of his head because he’s embarrassed and a little lost now, Rook might pass out on the spot, just lose all body tension and glide to the ground like a jelly pancake because no one, and that includes genuinely happy Glaz, no one has any right to be this adorable.

Blitz scratches the back of his head.

“I’m going to faint”, Rook informs someone, he’s not even sure who, whether it’s Mute and Glaz and this is a badly hidden attempt at getting them to come to his aid, or whether it’s Blitz to inform him that the cute police is on his case.

“Oh, that’s right, it’s lunch and you haven’t eaten anything yet, no?” If his next sentence is something along the lines of ‘let me offer you food’, he’ll have to propose. There’s no way around it. “I’d offer you something more substantial but I only have the crisps. You can try them if you want, but they’re a little hot.”

Right on cue, Mute whispers in his ear: “You should find some common ground and then ask him out. This is already a disaster, no need to prolong it.”

“I love hot things!”, Rook exclaims cheerfully and it’s not even that big of a lie, except that ‘food’ isn’t on the list. But if Mute wants his common ground, he’s going to get it. Without checking the packaging, Rook reaches into the bag and shoves a few of the suspiciously red potato crisps into his mouth.

“He’s going to die”, Glaz utters full of concern, just as the spiciness hits Rook full force.

Blitz seems to be convinced of the opposite. “Really? That’s great, I’ve not found anyone who likes this type. You should try some of the Indian dishes I make now and then!”

Rook’s consciousness is fading, slowly being replaced by unadulterated fire. This must be what it’s like to be burnt alive, he reckons, and right now he’d rather eat glass than ensure a second more of this brilliant pain. His eyes are watering and he’s doing his best to efficiently chew without letting any more of it touch his tongue so he can swallow it as fast as possible, in the process ruining his throat. Now it, too, feels like he ate glass. “I’d love to”, he croaks and sniffles pitifully while a cold sweat breaks out on his back.

“Are you ill? You’re a little…” Blitz’ concern is as heartwarming as it is unwelcome; it only makes everything worse.

“Yes, actually.” He can’t cough now. If he does, all is lost, he won’t be able to stop, ever, and it’ll invade his lungs and slowly cook him from the inside out.

“You need to get out”, Glaz informs him, sounding troubled, “and eat your emergency chocolate. Now. Ask him and then bolt.”

This is it, huh. This is what he’s been working up to for the last half an hour: posing a question while sounding like he’s been smoking for longer than he’s been alive, choking back tears which make it almost impossible to see Blitz, and faced with all the kindness and compassion of a man he suddenly doesn’t want to disappoint.

And so he asks.

“I am still in shock”, Mute says. The others nod.

“I have no idea how it came to this”, Glaz says. More nodding.

“I can finally feel my tongue again”, Rook slurs and downs the third glass of milk, just to be safe. He feels like he ran a marathon, solved maths problems and had an allergic reaction all at once. Not to mention the overarching shame of having embarrassed himself in front of someone who turned out much more sympathetic than he thought.

“I don’t understand.” Mute’s rational brain is rejecting this reality, Rook can almost hear the gears crunching. “Why would he say yes?! Where did we go wrong?”

He’s hesitant to tell them that he actually wouldn’t mind getting to know Blitz better because the memory of them shoving oversized condoms into Glaz’ pockets in order to embarrass him in front of his crush is still all too fresh. “This was a success then”, he very inaccurately summarises the unholy catastrophe of whatever it was that happened in the canteen twenty minutes ago. Maybe he can just… pretend he doesn’t want to actually go on the date but go nonetheless, be far, far from either of these two so he might end up enjoying himself – and if something comes out of it, he still has ample time to let them know.

“You don’t seem sad about this result”, Mute picks up on his careful neutrality and squints. “Are you telling me you actually want him to make you groan with something other than his terrible dad jokes? Is that it?”

“We probably should’ve picked Shuhrat after all”, Glaz muses with a sigh. “He wouldn’t have accepted. He might’ve refused to ever go near you again, but at least we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Wait.” Mute is on his phone, which is never a good sign if the Thomas the tank engine toy he modified into a fully functioning flamethrower after having watched a video of someone else doing it was any indication. A sense of dread starts rising in Rook. “There’s instructions for a first date here, too. We can do the same thing again, give you instructions and have you follow them. At this point, we kinda have to do this.”

Rook pictures it. All he can see is carnage, chaos and more catastrophes. It’ll be a disaster, he’s already struggling with multi-tasking without it involving another largely unpredictable person, and his nerves don’t deal well with expectations of any kind.

He weighs this against the alternative: admitting that he’d like to go on the date without their interference and facing endless mockery as a result. He remembers his own mental threat against Mute to divulge embarrassing stories of his past to Smoke. He thinks of the time his tongue got stuck to a pole because Mute told him this only happened to children, not adults.

“Alright”, he agrees with a sigh and regrets his decision as soon as Mute’s and Glaz’ eyes light up.

#rainbow six siege #blitz #rook #blitz/rook #kinda #glaz #mute #fanfic #this was a blast I really write lightning fast for you when I'm inspired #♥♥♥#also we all know that bandit would join in if he knew what was going on

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years

Text

Science & Faith - Finale - Talos/Keller (Captain Marvel: AU)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Authors Note: See what I did 😉 Well, I don’t know what to say, my first complete series!! I got some more Talos/Keller in the works... So don’t fret, I’m not giving this man up entirely 😘❤ Oh god, I tried so hard to cut her damn Lore down because it was just gonna read like a guide to her race... I was somewhat successful... I think... Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. Except Maliyah and all her race Lore. I have to say I’m not completely sure of Supernova’s powers I just LIKE the idea of it being something to do with dying stars... That Lore is kinda twisted with my own. Slight lyrical liberties with ‘Color’ by Carly Pearce. Premise: So often told she didn’t belong on Xandar, and for so many different reasons. Now she has a way out... Is Maliyah brave enough to take Talos up on it..? Words: 6563 Warnings: Zip. (Assassination?)

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE USED Not Reader Insert

I give up, I surrender And be nice, 'cause this heart's a little tender You were right, I was wrong, boy Yes, I know that you knew it all along, boy Tried to tell me we belonged together, I knew better, I was like "no" I admit it, I'm a wild child looking for a hand to hold

I’ll be the lines, you be the color Just like the day and night need each other Life ain't as great without the other I’ll be the lines, you be the color you be the color

Oh, nothing feels like you, boy I don't know how you knew, boy

---

Oh, and there's a view I just can't describe No, I'm not there yet, just a few more steps, baby wait Okay, you can open your eyes

This is it, this is now, this is what I've been talking about Looking out, can't you see forever? Take my hand, just take it in This is a moment we won't forget On top of the world, here, together If there ever was a time for a perfect kiss, this is it

--- Maliyah zipped her jacket and popped her collar, rolling her sleeves down as far as they could go she actually looked half presentable as she entered the meeting room. The conversational lul was quiet... She stopped at one end of the table, frowning and pointed to the empty chairs; “Where are...???” Talos and his lieutenants were noticeably absent. “Well, seen as we don’t seem to be able to come to a satisfying conclusion with them here, I decided we would have a debate without them. Then we give them our final answer.” Maliyah nodded and walked slowly to her seat, this was all her fault and she knew it. She was bringing her personal life into her professional one and if she didn’t do something, she was about to screw this up for two races. Neither of which were hers. She sat, noticing how Yoel almost ignored her. Oh, so he wasn’t happy with her either?! Figures. Reis hasn’t arrived yet... Maliyah took a deep breath. She could do this; she could get through this. Reis arrived, and he wouldn’t take his eyes of her. That stare coupled with that smirk meant trouble... It was times like this she wished Garthan was still around. He wasn’t. Maliyah was back to defending herself. The only non-Xandarian of the Nova Corps. Reis wasn’t down for that, and he was even less down with the races of her significant others... Nova Prime sighed deeply; “As of right now, we have no conclusion. And quite frankly I’m sick of it. They deserve nothing less than a straight answer and this political bickering is embarrassing.” She gave Maliyah a sharp stare “I expect better from you.” Even though she was addressing the table as a whole Maliyah winced – time to make her decision. “I know you do.” Nova Prime looked a little taken aback. It took a lot for Maliyah to swallow her pride. Yoel shifted. Aha... all she needed was him back on side... That was all she needed... “I expect better from myself. I’m not pretending to speak for the table. I understand we have only just fought and lost a great deal to the Kree. But that does not mean we should be uncivil to the Skrulls.” She took a breath; “It should never have got to the point where you felt the need to call this meeting. And I am disappointed in myself and my actions.” Maliyah folded her arms, “I realise I have a great deal of influence as your military leader and I have abused that power. There have been many good ideas around this table that I have rejected for personal reasons. That was stupid. And I retract all previous statements. I retract my right to veto anything that comes from this, and I am almost tempted to tell you I should leave... I should have no power here...” Her eyes flicked to Reis, to how smug he looked at her admitting she was wrong. That was exactly what he wanted. She was about to wipe that off his face though. “They need us. I think we need them.” His face fell, looking like she’d just betrayed him. Those on the fence would sway with her, she’d seen it happen in the past few days alone. Reis’ little bit of power was slipping through his fingers. She turned back to Nova “...Give them what they are asking for. In honestly it isn’t much.” An alliance between races didn’t have to cost either a thing… But, Maliyah had ideas of her own. She tipped her head “Though I’d bargain on that light speed engine… We need something like that... I’ll work on it.” She tapped her fingernails against the desk in thought. Talos would probably agree on giving her something. And something that fast – she might need a back-up plan for when her own race came calling… At this, Yoel swivelled his chair and stared at her, she looked back to him and waited for him to smile; “I wondered when you’d start seeing sense!” Reis wasn’t having it. He tried not to let his anger show on his face, calling all attention back to him; "Blue to Green? I don't think we can trust our Denarian to do anything but date her way through the colour spectrum. I move for a vote of no confidence.” The whole room fell into an awkward silence. Maliyah just folded her arms and pursed her lips. Really? He wanted to play this game? Well, she guessed she had ignited a vote of no confidence in herself… Of course he’d make a play. "I think with some semblance of humanity there, you've missed out a colour..." "Not if he was never human." "... Then that's consistency; a far more trustworthy trait than political backstabbing." Ah-! That made him back down. He sat back in his seat, staring murder at her. Nova Prime sighed; “Maliyah… I want you to know… These personal reasons of yours, that both you and Reis speak of…” Maliyah swivelled back in her seat, biting her lip gently. She was aware that even with her jacket pulled up, it was still virtually impossible to miss the lights crossing her skin. “…They are not an issue. I understand why you made them such. And I appreciate your honesty in knowing you were wrong to make them one.” Maliyah bowed her head; “I made hot headed decisions out of spite. And… For that, and what it means for Xandar, for these negotiations I can only apologise…” Yoel looked pretty proud of her, but Nova Prime just smiled; “I feel it is not us you should be apologising to…” Maliyah received another significant look from her partner. “Oh-! Well… I guess you’re right!” *** She re-entered an empty apartment and sighed. She could only blame herself… She unzipped her jacket and rolled her sleeves up. Would he come back? Would he come back to her? He was probably at other meetings. She guessed Nova Prime would call upon them to discuss the final verdict. Then Maliyah would have to try the prospect of the lightspeed engine proposal on him… She wasn’t sure how he’d take that. Another thing to help her run away?? Well, what if it wasn’t him she was running from? She was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed watching the sky when Talos returned. He noticed she did this a lot. Far more than on Earth. “What do you keep looking for?” She shrugged “Something’s coming. Always is... Earth was the only place I never felt that. And look what happened... There I could just watch the stars.” He crossed her apartment and sat in front of her, if only to pull her attention away from the sky. “I owe you an apology...” “What? What for?” She gave him a look, like he was just being polite; “Everything.” She steepled her hands in front of her lips “I’m sure they’ll tell you everything is resolved; the deal is finalised. You’re getting everything you asked for. I’m sorry for standing in the way of that.” “You had reasons.” “Yeah, that weren’t good enough reasons and I should have kept to myself... I’m their Denarian and their Supernova I should know I sway everything here... You talk so much about fixing this... I decided I needed to fix something myself.” “What is a Supernova? To you. The significance of me calling you that is far more than just a name...” She indicated to his wrist “You’re wearing part of it.” He looked to the fine chain, the North Star looking pendant she always called a Nova. “My brother gave it to me... I gave it to you. He was the original Supernova… It fell to me, but I’m not Xandarian... He knew his limits. The fact that no-one knows mine is scary. To them.” He held his wrist up “So what is this? The source of that power?” Maliyah took his hand in hers so that the star fell between them; “No... The two pieces together... That energy? As far as I know, we’re talking a real supernova.” His face scrunched like he was trying to process that information “…You’re… Talking about yourself?” She nodded slowly; “I am now… You’re meant to keep me grounded. The significance of you with my Nova star should not be taken lightly.” She took his other hand “So don’t you dare go dying on me!” He raised an eyebrow "Is that your version of I love you?" She narrowed her eyes slightly with a wry smile; “The last time I told someone I loved them he wasn’t who he said he was.” ** Maliyah could sense it before it happened. Strolling through the Capital with Talos just to get used to him. She needed to know him as well as she knew Keller. They were technically the same person... But nothing about them was similar... His love for her, maybe. But the way his feelings presented themselves to her - she had to get used to all of Talos' nuances. So she just made him walk and talk to her. Maliyah didn't have to concentrate on anything but his voice; allowing herself to get wrapped up in him. “…What happened to you?” “Hmm?” “The day I left, what happened to you?? Even if you got shot, you’d bleed…?” He laughed, and his genuine amusement sent another wave of gorgeous sparkles across her skin; “Oh. No. Not bullets. More… energy.” “Energy!?” “The same kind of energy in fact that powers the engine. Only... in a more condensed form.” She was clearly trying to figure out how that worked in her head. Accepted she couldn’t. Was impressed he could take a hit from a mini infinity stone and changed subject, slightly; “Wait - you were there for the drive?!” “No... I helped make the drive. Well, commissioned the drive - for my people.” “So how long did that take?” “Well... Let’s just say Keller didn’t become a Director overnight… I’d have given the drive up and stayed for you, you know?” “I figured. Would you ever have told me?” “Whether you believe me or not I tried many times. But... Jonathan to you was... Everything... and I... I didn’t want to take him away from you.” “Well, I guess in a weird way, he’s still here...” Maliyah was not a true empath. She could only ever feel everything from her significant other. But if the feeling from someone else was intense enough - if it was so out of place, she could sense it. And on this sunny afternoon, walking down the promenade and absentmindedly watching other lovers and families go about their days, she felt it. It was close. And it made her uneasy. It pulled her out of her focus on him. Maliyah turned; the problem was nothing looked out of place. Everyone seemed to be going about their business happily. But it was something; an uneasy, panicked feeling. She ran forward a few steps and turned, so she could still talk to Talos - walking backward. She slowed herself, making him slow his walk - by the look on his face he knew something was up too - but she had to make this natural. How else was she supposed to find out who or what it was? Then she spotted him. Not because he was trying to stand out, but because he wasn't. And not only was he trying to be inconspicuous, as the crowd moved around him and he weaved - he only kept his eyes on one thing. And she realised with horror that that one thing was Talos. Oh - HELL no. The crowd fluctuated again and she lost him. Now this was bad... Maliyah picked up her pace again, instinctively trying to distance him, Talos followed no questions asked. Her colours ran over her skin where it was exposed in vibrant warning lights and her eyes were alert. She wasn't pay attention to his talking, but he kept the conversation flowing to appear natural. Maliyah sprinted forward - yanking Talos back and out of the way, despite the fact he was bigger than her, she slammed her shoulder into the guy; he was winded and floored in seconds. And her Yaka arrow was in his face. Oh-! Talos almost smirked, now she was using it to defend him? That was sure an interesting turn of events. The weapon the assassin had been carrying skittered across the floor as the crowd froze and parted to see what was happening. "What the hell was that you just attempted!?" He wasn't a real assassin; she could feel his panic now. It was a cheap move and it hadn't paid off. With that arrow in his face Maliyah wasn’t surprised he could barely speak - she squinted. He wasn't going to get away with that. He cried out in pain as the arrow began to dig into his skin at her insistence; "I could just kill you, of course." She stood back, "That would be a violation of several Nova Corp rules and I'd probably be sanctioned. But it’s not half as bad as what YOU just attempted." "He is a killer!" The man spat "He deserves to die." Was he Kree? On Xandar…? "You've got about 10 seconds to change your opinion." He whimpered as the arrow began to draw blood. Talos reached for her "Maliyah." It was like he snapped her from her anger, "Do not end his life on my account..." It was as much a swell of pride as surprise that she would. She was serious. About making this work. He didn't think she'd ever let Keller go... That she would ever accept him. But here she was. She took a deep breath; pulling the Yaka arrow back a few inches. Tapping her coms "Nova Corp. Arrest made in sector 3. Immediate escort to the Kyln necessary." She called her arrow back in disgust as she heard dispatch send out ships to her location. "This so called murderer just saved your life. Asshole." Talos had to be quick to follow her through the crowd. She was pissed, they were here on political asylum and someone had just tried to kill him!? Was there literally no end? Would it never be over...!? She realised she was tired... of everything... He caught her arm; "Mali... Mali wait..." She turned back to him; "I'm sorry." He was taken aback; for what? "Sorry? Maliyah. You just saved my life." She blinked a few times; before giving him a crooked smirk - "Yeah. Don't get too used to it." He shook his head; he knew she didn't mean it the way it'd come out. She was still about that front. But it was an ever increasingly flimsy front. "What are you sorry for?" She looked around her; "I'm just tired..." "Of what?" "Of war... of all this political nonsense... of races... fighting over EVERYTHING. I don't want to live this. It's why I left Xandar in the first place. Only, Ravagers aren't much better... So I went exploring. And then I found Earth - and – I just... Earth gave me something so real..." she shook her head, and gave a gentle smile, that extended to the sparkle in her eyes and the soft colours in her skin. Genuine happiness "Earth gave me you." Talos opened his mouth; but realised no words would do that moment justice. He realised it then, what he thought he had before, but looking at her now it was just so clear. Maliyah Saal had really fallen for him. The real him. *** “You want the lightspeed engine?!” “No. No… Not the actual engine just something like it.” “Why!? So, you can run away again.” She sighed, but there was a smile there – she knew he was teasing her this time “…No! Not exactly.” “That sounds like a yes-! What did I do this time!” “Stop it!” She placed her hands on the table – currently they were looking at holograms of tech. It had started as a tactical discussion. It was fast becoming something else “Nothing-! I’m thinking of me. My race. My planet.” “…?” He tilted his head “What?” “You know eventually they’ll come after me and drag me back home. I figure if I can’t beat ‘em, and certainly won’t be joining them… Then running as fast as possible across the galaxy is probably the best option.” He chuckled; “Alone?” “I didn’t say that!” “That’s what it sounded like.” She tried her best to look grumpy as she rounded the table, pointing at him “Now, alone is no good for me is it!?” “Are you telling me this about your planet to try to get me to give up on you?” “…No!” He crossed over to her, with a little smirk; “Good. Because it kinda sounds like you’re giving me an excuse to leave…” He placed his hands delicately on her shoulders “But… I don’t want to leave. You and your race and all those problems we can work through… Right? I’m down. I’m ready when you’re ready. Don’t rush this for me…” He placed his forehead to hers again “I love you. Do this at your own pace. I’m always gonna wait for you…” Maliyah pulled back from him for a minute, shaking her head gently, she knew that already. He already had… She smiled, pulling him towards her and into a kiss; “You should be done waiting…” ** Talos watched her stare absentmindedly out over the port as his lieutenants continued to move about the dock, resupplying the ship; "Don't you ever think maybe it’s time for another change?" They were standing by his ship; now everything on Xandar was finalised he really had little reason to stay. And he certainly didn’t want to outstay the welcome. "You look like you need one..." She folded her arms and tilted her body back "Oh? Really? Any suggestions?" He frowned “You don’t belong here. Maliyah.” “…So, what? I belong with you…” It took him far too long to realise what part of that sentence was a question. When he did realise he had an instant idea; "That’s-! That's not a bad idea! Maliyah-!" Talos took her hands in his "Come back with me.” "Huh? How?!" "Well, someone from Xandar surely needs to check we're keeping up our end of the bargain on this treaty right? We could do some kind of political consulate... swap... That works? Right?" She studied his face very carefully, before she laughed, and she kept laughing until tears were in her eyes "You're serious! Oh my gosh! You're serious!" He watched her look back to him in wonder, and he nodded in confirmation "I've never been more serious about anything." Nova Prime looked between them with a smile; "I don't see a problem with that." They looked to each other with wide eyes - it shouldn’t have been that easy? Should it?! Why was it that easy!? She chuckled; "Maliyah, darling. I have known you for far too long. Could I really ever have stopped you from leaving." Maliyah chewed her lip for a second; "Well... My duty is to the Nova Corp. As I hold the Nova Force.... I just.... I should be here..." She had to admit it. "Perhaps the Nova Force being kept separate to an Infinity stone would be a good thing. Two great sources of power here may cause problems.... You are correct. Of course. But, we can make it work... Who would you have take over for you?" "Day has always been the better Denarian. It’s time we gave him the full title." "You will come back whenever we call you." It also wasn't a question. Maliyah nodded; "Yes M'am." Nova Primes eyes flicked to Talos; “That will work with your people?" He nodded, but didn't have much of a choice "We shouldn't need her for anything more than politics. I hope. That power would surely be useful..." His eyes flicked to Maliyah "But she isn’t one you want to bore or tie down." Maliyah almost snorted. She wasn't sure life with a shapeshifting race could ever be boring.... "Now on that we certainly agree. Very well, Maliyah. I will see your complete hand over to Denarian Day... And then you are free to leave as a Xandarian Emissary for the Skrulls." They both bowed "Thank you M'am." Turning to leave Nova Prime called her back; "Maliyah... Just hold on a minute..." She stopped, But Talos respectfully took his leave. "M'am?" Nova Prime approached and gently took Maliyah’s face in her hands "My darling girl. I have known you since you were very small. You are not of Xandar. But you will always be Xandarian. I am proud of the woman you have become. Your parents are proud of the woman you are... I know Garthan would be the proudest.... He might not have ever said it, far be it from Garthan to do so, but my darling... He was. He always was." Maliyah couldn't help beaming "T-Thank you... That is an honour." Prime smiled; "Maliyah Saal - wherever this universe takes you, and with whomever you chose - you will always be our Supernova." Talos was standing just down the corridor when she left, and Maliyah sprinted to him, slowing to a stop with a smile that he couldn't help but mirror. "So, you're officially coming back?" "Officially. I’m a political mission, General." "Of course. We shall have to be very serious about this." "I am serious about this." He nodded "No doubt..." Maliyah entwined her fingers with his; "But your planet. I want to know EVERYTHING! Tell me everything I need to know!" *** Before she left, Maliyah had one more thing she needed to do. She had arranged to meet Reis in the Corp HQ, so she could tell him the news. He still gave her that same look of distaste. He’d never be happy until she was no longer Xandar’s problem... “Looks like you’re about to get your wish.” He raises an eyebrow and tilted his head questioningly; “I will no longer be Denarian of the Nova Corp effective tomorrow. Instead all duties will be handed to Day as a true Denarian just like my brother was...” “And you think that makes me happy?” “I wasn’t finished! I will also be leaving Xandar. I have a new mission and new orders - so you’re going to be rid of me. Likely once and for all. Surely that’s got to make you a bit happy?” He couldn’t help but smile a little. “And where will you go? With them?” “Not that you have any reason to have a problem with that Reis... Not that you should have any reason to have a problem with the Skrulls at all. But, I guess the threat of another War is too much for you, is it? Or is a war just what you want…? Is that why you did it?” He looked back to her; eyes narrowed. “What did you just say?!” “See, I’m proud of this, Reis. Of what my race has the capability to do. Of these colours. So, I really hope you’re proud of yourself...” Maliyah could sense his panic even though Reis looked controlled; he was trying to keep so composed... ”I don’t know what you-” ”Cut it. I know I don’t have proof. But I know you’re responsible... And that it didn’t work...” It shouldn’t have surprised her that all paths on this attempted assassination currently led to Reis. It wasn’t just about how it would affect the treaty... But how much it would hurt her too... She turned away from him; “We’re done here.” but she flicked her eyes over her shoulder; “But I’m never going to stop looking for that proof... So watch your back.” “You have no power here anymore...!You’re not even Xandarian!” She shook her head as she walked away from him; “See Reis there is your problem. I wasn’t born here... You’re right. But Xandar is my home. I have a duty to my home that I will fulfil. And the fact that you can’t do that, makes me more Xandarian than you will ever be...” *** It was good to be back amongst the stars. Saying goodbye might have been hard but Maliyah knew it wouldn’t be forever, she would come back to Xandar every so often. But the explorer in her felt most at home here... The light speed technology clearly didn’t extend to all ships. But she would rather have the time to think about her decision than watch her beloved stars blur by... Talos let her stand alone and think about it, and almost didn’t bother her for the duration of the trip. Waiting for the tension to work itself out of her, until she at least looked more relaxed. He didn’t have her gift for sensing emotions but he could read her body well. She didn’t truly relax until they came upon the planet itself. Like she was accepting that there was no going back now. Talos joined her. “How are you feeling?” She leant her head against the window frame “Like I made the right choice? I’ve never been here before… I’m thinking of how much I get to discover for myself.” That was the adventurer in her talking “And you’re here. So I think I’m gonna be just fine.” He laughed. He’d certainly take that. The ship descended into atmosphere and he watched her face closely. He loved coming back home; but she was seeing this for the very first time and he was desperate to know her reaction. Maliyah’s eyes widened in joy, it had to be at the way colour flashed across her skin, and she couldn’t take it all in fast enough. The planet was covered in what appeared to be lush green forest areas, grasses of different species, she could see for miles upon miles - to the mountains raised in the distance and the great glassy lake reflecting the sun. Every so often cities raised themselves up, all with great glass structures. They had built up instead of out. Preserving as much of the planet’s natural beauty as possible. An almost seamless blend of technology and nature. Talos had to look back at it for just a minute, so he could imagine what was racing through her mind... “Take the war away from the planet, everything grows back…” But he couldn’t help it; “So, tell me, did you make the right choice?” She didn’t answer, but a smile spread across her face “Ah-! That’s a smile!” Maliyah pushed his arm; “Shut up! It was NOT a smile!” He didn’t believe her for a second, and worse, now she was blushing… * Maliyah Saal was not one for thinking she made many mistakes. But her first month was a hard period of adjustment. Everything about the Skrulls was different from everything she’d ever known. Immersing herself in the culture wasn’t hard – but they were all so interested in her, she found herself answering the same set of questions ten thousand times. She could only cope with so much at a time before she got overloaded. Talos knew this and he shadowed her, giving her just enough space to explore as independently as she wanted, but always close by when he felt she needed rescuing. She was always welcome for the respite of just being alone with him and letting herself get as wrapped in his emotions as she had with Keller. It was so different and yet so familiar, and it was a sensation she never wanted to fade… Sometimes he would let her take Keller back. And that was comfortable. There was something else in that he would do that for her… But that wasn’t her life anymore… “Please stop doing this…” She took his hands in hers, sincere “…You don’t have to do this for me anymore…” She bit her lip, as she so often did, to suppress her smile – but what was the point in that when the lights flashing across her skin so often gave her away? “…He is not the man I want…” Eventually she got culture shock. It was too much and she would spend excessive time alone. To counteract that, Talos took her back to the stars. The trips were short, because Maliyah promised herself she wouldn’t leave until she’d explored every inch of his planet. Still, it was amongst the stars that his Supernova belonged. She always looked at home here. He was in tune with her enough to know, she might have been tied to Keller on Earth but she would never have stayed. She was far too tough to tie down. Maliyah was made to explore. Talos was determined to make the most of that. To make sure if her race ever came looking she would never be found. “…You want to save me from my race?” “…Yes. Because I know I can.” Talos tilted his head “Maliyah, you weren’t made to go back there. And it would be a travesty to let them take you away now.” His look was defiant “They will not take you from me.” *** “I was told I’d find you here” Maliyah was starring around the room with interest; “I was told this is where Skrulls come to practice shifting…” “We do.” He studied her carefully, she really was getting into this... “…Well then…” She looked up at the ceiling; and took slow, deliberate steps “What are you doing here.” Ending her walk at the open window, Maliyah leant on the sill. “You know. Sometimes I can’t get over it.” “What?” “…My kind was made – MADE – to traverse the stars and combine DNA with other races… Everything about how we are made is tied to that notion. Even down to the way we have children…” She turned from looking at the scenery to look at him “…Yet we became so insular? We’re explorers – but now it’s all about purity…” She turned back with a sigh; “…When Aurons started leaving home they did it to bond… To find that perfect DNA match. And your DNA… that’s almost perfect. But it’s so discouraged now, if home calls me back what would I be good for? What would my children really be good for? Bloodline purity? The age-old ways of my race were never about that.” Talos joined her, “…Your race… Are you telling me your race is compatible with all others?” “If all the markers in both parents’ DNA is correct. Then yes.” “…You’re talking about children again.” Maliyah scoffed “So were you.” She turned to him; “Yes. But it’s not an exercise in intercourse. Intercourse will not result in anything. My DNA will simply reject yours… It will create colour, but not life. A real DNA bond is a two-way consensual street.” “Meaning what?” She raised an eyebrow; “You’re ready for that?” “Aren’t you?” “…I thought I’d highlighted the significance of what our children would mean…” She gave a shrug “But now I’m here…” She relaxed herself against the railing, regarding him coolly – “…It requires your blood to mix with mine. Your DNA becomes a part of my very existence. However… MY DNA must also become a part of yours.” Apparently this information didn’t deter him “How?” “That’s really up to you, isn’t it... It needs to be a serious decision and commitment because it is an irreversible one.” “All I’m hearing out of your mouth is not now but later.” Maliyah smiled – oh, he knew her far too well – with a nod; “Not now… But later.” ** As the months continued to pass, they only continued to grow closer. Maliyah revelled in this kind of intimacy; she'd never loved or been loved like this before. The closer they got and the further their bond strengthened, the more Talos noticed she started to pick up. His language was almost second nature to her now, and there were times when Maliyah would forgo the universal transmitter completely. She didn't need it. He'd offered to try to learn hers, but she'd just laughed. Maliyah decided to teach him basic Xandarian; but her language was a waste of time – For Auron’s, their lights meant sometimes they didn't need words… It was all a little too good to last. He knew she'd be called to Xandar eventually... And late one evening that call came. "We are under attack-- Maliyah we need you to go come back - - they are after the infinity stone...!" “…I gotta go…” “Right now!? Right this second!?” Talos was only halfway dressed before she attempted to walk out of the door; “If it’s the infinity stone they need me – my planet needs me!” It struck him that she didn’t say home… "Don't you need the lightspeed engine?" "No..." She turned to him; "I can get there pretty quick. But I do appreciate the offer...!" He threw his jacket on "Should I come anyway?" Maliyah shook her head, taking her hands away from the door she turned back to him; "I am not risking your life for Xandar... You belong here. They need you here." "You need me too..." Talos placed his hands gently on her arms, making her lean up to kiss him with a smile; "I know. But I can't let you come with me...." He took her hands "Then come with me. Let me show you something. " "Do I have time?" He was already pulling her down the corridor "Yes! It's a good place for you to set off from too!!" Talos knew this much, Xandar needed Maliyah because she was their Supernova... He didn't know nearly enough about the powers she had under that responsibility. But that would probably be what got her there... And he guessed his shooting star could fly. She followed him cautiously; even though he was moving at pace. Maliyah guessed he knew the urgency that was needed back on Xandar. But before she left there was just one more thing he had to show her... They continued on a path out from the city on a slow incline. In the months that she’d been here she wondered why the hell he hadn’t shown her this before?! Maybe he was waiting for the right time?? Talos hesitated at the edge of the forest area and turned to her; “... Close your eyes.” She stopped and tilted her head with a raised eyebrow. He held out his hand; “Don’t worry I got you.” Maliyah smiled, closing them without question and lacing her fingers with his “I know you do...” she breathed, and let him pull her gently. She could feel the warmth of the sunrise as he led her gently. “Okay. Open them.” She did so slowly, and breathed, hands covered her mouth as she gasped. And she thought she’d seen beautiful from the atmosphere. Talos smiled, taking in the view for himself “This has got to be my favourite place on the whole planet...” The edge of the cliff opened out onto the Great Lake below, waterfalls running into it throwing colours as the sun just caught them enough to sparkle. The sky was clear, and as the closest star began to burn in the sky, the evening stars melted away. “... and now I get to share it with you...”That wasn’t a significance lost on her as she grasped his hand tighter, she couldn’t say anything. But she didn’t need to... “Look you got your thing with Xandar, I’ve got my thing going on. But it’s okay… We’ll do our own things, but we’ll always have THIS and we’ll always have each other.” Maliyah bit her lip at his sudden seriousness “Promise me you’re gonna be here when I’m done...” Talos turned to her with a gentle sigh, “I can’t promise I’ll be here. But I can promise I’ll always find you.” he held up his wrist, that gorgeous Nova Star. She took a step back with a sigh “... I don’t know how long this is going to take.” “Take your time. Maliyah. I can wait on you... I’ll always wait on you.” “I’ll aim not to keep you waiting forever...” She gave a smile and closed her eyes again. This time when her lights flickered, they were in blue and yellow. The star around his wrist glinted – it was obvious to him now, the two were connected. Her eyes were much bluer when she opened them; with a gold sheen, and she very slowly lifted herself from the ground. “Stay safe!” Talos couldn’t help but smile that she’d addressed him in Skrull. She was getting good at that. “If you do.” She laughed, “…Fair bargain.” Maliyah hovered out over the edge of the lake and sighed; “I’m gonna miss you!” “You haven’t even left!” He laughed; “Go hurry on and save your damn planet so you can get back here then!!” And he said it like it was so obvious. Maliyah gave him one last gentle nod as she turned to leave but she wasn’t even half way to the atmosphere before she was turning back. She pulled herself closer to him, radiating heat and energy. She was right - she held the power of a dying star... She ran her hands over the markings on his skin, and kissed him gently. When Maliyah broke it she placed her forehead against his. Hands still on him. She felt like the warmth of the sun too. He decided whoever was attacking Xandar had a world of hell coming… And they probably deserved it. But Talos didn’t expect for her to mimic the same purring sound he had. He almost froze. Hang on... Maliyah let him go, and floated back to over the lake, and the smile on her face said the same thing he had as Keller when he’d done it for the very first time; I love you... Suddenly she looked like she’d remembered something and began rummaging through her jacket “Oh! Yeah! If you’re saying we’re compatible…” She threw him a small glass vial. The liquid contained within was thick, blueish-purple, just like her eyes. “Prove it!” He looked a little confused as he looked back to her. She gave him a wink “When the time is right... well, you’ll know what to do.” Was she saying what he thought she was saying..??! “D-don’t you need m-my blood for this?!” Talos felt lightheaded for a moment just thinking about that. She didn’t just love him. That wasn’t all this was about anymore... Maliyah gave him a mysterious smile that made him think she might already have it. Back on Xandar they’d run many security tests, including on his bloodwork. She gave a gentle shrug but didn’t say another word. She hesitated once more, then sighed. Leaning in for one last kiss; just one more and she could do this… And she would come back… With that and her eyes telling him everything she couldn’t say, she turned. Illuminating in a soft white-to-yellow glow… Starlight… Maliyah forced herself not to look back as she shot towards the atmosphere. Talos watched her arc across the sky with a smile. She was still the most beautiful shooting star he’d ever seen. The brightest supernova.

---

I just want you all to be sure, that now we’re clearly linked back to Avengers: Infinity War canon, she’s gonna be okay... He’s gonna get her to Carol and they’re gonna go kick ass on Earth....

#Talos x OC #Talos #I don't get to tag Keller if Keller is no longer a feature. Right?#Captain Marvel #Ben Mendelsohn #MCU AU #Captain Marvel AU #I don't think we can trust our Denarian to do anything but date her way through the colour spectrum.#Giggling over writing that line #This Is It is so Krennic but it worked... it just WORKED for this #wow guys I finished it!#And it's not a half bad ending??? I think???#Is it too neat!?! I dunno...#I feel like there's more too this... but... hmmmm...#I did a last second change on Reis. Because I didn't LIKE it being too neat.#Progressive!!! Well done me. Leave it open!#Science & Faith #Maliyah #30

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daresplaining · 6 years

Text

Daredevil Countdown: 3 Days

D.A. Foggy Nelson

As depressing as Matt and Foggy’s break-up was in Season 2, it has set up some really neat stories for Foggy. In the comics, as in the MCU, it is important for him to step out of Matt’s shadow, because this allows him the freedom to build his career and self-confidence. One plot point I’ve been dying for since last season-- which, it seems, is actually happening-- is Foggy running for District Attorney! This is a really interesting plotline as far as Foggy’s character arc is concerned, and as a bonus, it’s a reference to a period of Daredevil comics that doesn’t generally get much attention.

Matt and Foggy have been friends for a long time, and as with most long-term relationships, their dynamic has evolved over the years. When discussing their law partnership, 616 Foggy once referred to Matt as the inspiration and himself as the perspiration. And this seems like a pretty accurate assessment. While Matt is a naturally brilliant lawyer, a charismatic speaker, and is also neglectful of his day job thanks to his superheroing, Foggy works hard to build up his reputation. He’s not a great public speaker. He lacks Matt’s flair. But he is devoted to his career and is, in a quieter way, a brilliant lawyer in his own right.

But when he is first introduced in the comics, he exists very much in Matt’s shadow. When discussing the newly-formed Nelson & Murdock in the very first issue, he attributes the firm’s future success to Matt brains and his (Foggy’s) father’s money. And in the early issues, this fits with his narrative role. He is there to hold down the fort, to run the firm and be the boring, less talented partner against whom Matt’s awesomeness can be compared. The possibility of his becoming the D.A. is teased very early-on, in issue #10-11... but it turns out to be a supervillain’s ruse and nothing more.

Foggy: “Well, that makes me the prize chump of the year! He sure had me fooled!”

Matt: “Chump nothing! You were the first to suspect that the picture of the Organizer on TV was a phony... taken in advance to throw suspicion on Monroe! You’ve proven you do have what it takes to make a fighting D.A., mister!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #11 by Stan Lee, Bobby Powell, Wally Wood, and Sam Rosen

As gullible as this makes Foggy look, it introduces an important character element for him at this early point: his aspirations. Poor Foggy may be treated as a loser by the narrative, he may not have Matt’s talents and main character advantages, but he still has big dreams. It’s thus satisfying that forty issues later, he runs again for real... and wins!

Foggy: “Me and Daniel Webster! --What a laugh! It’s Matt who should have this job-- not me! He was the real brains of ‘Nelson and Murdock’! I was just-- the work horse! But, they say a man can sometimes grow into a job-- maybe this will be my chance to prove myself! My chance to finally get out-- from under the shadow of Matt Murdock!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #50 by Stan Lee, Gene Colan, and George Klein

At this point he is conflicted-- both excited by this boost to his career and nervous about stepping out of his comfort zone. He and Matt had a huge fight during the campaign and so they are no longer speaking at this point... but they get over it, and Foggy decides to fix his nerves by bringing Matt on board has his special assistant.

Reporter: “Howzabout a shot of you two together, Mr. Nelson? It’ll go great with our story of your declared war on Crime-Wave!”

Foggy: “Even better than you think, friend! ‘Cause I’ve got a surprise announcement to make...! Namely, I’ve just invited Matthew Murdock to become my special assistant... for the duration of the current investigation!”

Matt: “It’s true all right, newshound! I’ve joined the team!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #58 by Roy Thomas and Gene Colan

(How great is this page? Love that Gene Colan art.)

But even this, with Matt working as Foggy’s subordinate rather than partner, is a huge shift in the balance of their dynamic. For once, Foggy gets to take the lead, with Matt dropping by the office when he has time to consult on cases. As District Attorney, Foggy is directly interacting with politicians and the press, and he is the first person people come to for help. And then Matt runs off to San Francisco with Natasha Romanov and leaves Foggy all on his own.

Since this is Matt’s comic, this separation means that we don’t see much of Foggy during this period. But when he does appear, he is notably changed. He is extra serious, extra busy. His wardrobe gets snazzier.

Daredevil vol. 1 #114 by Steve Gerber, Bob Brown, and Stan Goldberg

And he becomes more deeply embedded in The Establishment. He is forced to handle tough ethics cases: corruption, student protests, and the ever-present NYC topic of superheroes, about whom he has always had mixed feelings. (This is 200+ issues before he finds out about his best friend’s double life.)

Matt: “Great! Competence lives in Fun City! Sorry about the mess, friend, but I’m sure our crackerjack sanitation department can make it all tidy again-- or at least as tidy as the rest of New York. Which isn’t saying much.”

Foggy: “Not so quick with the flippancy, Hornhead. I think it’s time the police questioned you about a few matters. I’m getting a bit sick and tired of you long underwear types swinging up and down Fifth Avenue like you owned it.”

Matt: “I never thought I’d say this, ‘Mr.’ Nelson, but methinks you’re more interested in your re-election than you are in justice. But I think it’s a little bit too late to begin a crusading D.A. image now.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #127 by Marv Wolfman, Bob Brown, and Petra Goldberg

And Foggy matures, becoming a more jaded and world-weary version of himself. After getting shot while on the job, he starts rethinking his career. This is a neat mental shift when placed next to Matt’s own superhero philosophy. Foggy has now had a taste of doing what Matt does as Daredevil-- protecting the city-- and it is wearing him down. If only he and Matt could actually speak candidly about this shared experience...

Matt: “You sound a little bitter, Foggy. Are you still upset about the shooting?”

Foggy: “Frankly, Matt... I am. You spend a chunk of your life trying to help this city-- trying to make it safer, a decent place for people to live-- you put up with the crackpots, the bad cops, the crooks-- and then WHAM you get the city’s thanks-- a crummy bullet from a third-hand Saturday Night Special. So sure-- I’m bitter, Matt, this has been building up in me since it happened. I’m bitter as hell.”

Matt: “You’re forgetting good things, Foggy, the good cops... the good people... Don’t do yourself and them an injustice. Have a little faith.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #118 by Gerry Conway, Don Heck, and Petra Goldberg

When his re-election campaign rolls around, Foggy fights hard. His opponent is the charming, charismatic Blake Tower, who Foggy ends up liking and respecting in spite of himself. In the end, and thanks to some supervillain intervention by expert media manipulator the Jester...

TV Foggy: “Fellow citizens, as much as this pains me to say, I am forced to admit that I consider myself unworthy of being re-elected. Please bear with me as I give my explanations.”

Foggy: “What? It’s a lie! I never said that!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #130 by Marv Wolfman, Bob Brown, and Michele Wolfman

...Foggy loses. Tower, a genuinely good guy and superhero supporter, goes on to have a long and successful career as the new D.A. And Foggy, as hard as he fought for re-election, discovers that he is glad to have escaped from such a stressful job. Matt invites him to join his new private practice, and he gratefully accepts.

Foggy: Once the vote became apparent, I just couldn’t stick around any longer. I had to get away--to be by myself to think. But I’ve come to some conclusions, Matt. The first is that I’m happy I lost, and the second-- Matt, I’ve never begged before, but Matt-- I need a job now... do you need a rather tubby loser hanging around here?”

Matt: “Do you still have that business card I gave you, Foggy?”

Foggy: “Sure, I was too busy to look at it. Why?”

Matt: Just read it. Whether you won the election or not, Foggy, you always were, and you’ll always be-- my partner. Welcome back, buddy. It’s been awhile.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #130 by Marv Wolfman, Bob Brown, and Michele Wolfman

Many writers since have written Foggy back into Matt’s shadow-- and that’s tough to avoid, since Matt is the main character. But this story arc first introduced the idea of Foggy as a force in his own right, someone who can succeed without Matt around, which is an attitude that has largely stuck around to this day. It presented a welcome and permanent shift in the way writers, and thus Daredevil readers, viewed his character and role in the comic.

While MCU Matt doubled down on his DD activities in Season 2, prioritizing that side of his life over his legal work, Foggy plunged headfirst into his career-- mostly because he had no other choice. With Matt neglecting the firm, Foggy picked up the slack. He spent the entirely of Season 1 putting himself down, emphasizing Matt’s skills over his own, and showing an intense lack of self-confidence regarding his abilities as a lawyer. But Season 2 showed him, in ways that he could not ignore, that he was actually damn good at him job. He realized that he could still achieve his law school (or possibly undergrad...) dream of having a high-powered legal career... even without Matt by his side. And so when the chance to make that dream happen was presented, he leapt at it.

It has been an absolute treat to see Foggy hop around to the other shows, further developing his career, getting used to hanging out with superheroes, and generally demonstrating a level of confidence in himself that is new and wonderful. His life isn’t perfect-- there’s no question that he would rather be doing this with Matt-- but it’s still a big deal for his character development. From here, there are several ways his D.A. aspirations could go. It could be a great thing-- further boosting his career, giving him a new set of challenges, and showing us a side of Foggy we’ve never seen before: a Foggy in a position of power, trying to cope. Or it could end terribly. He could lose. He could win, but end up butting heads with Wilson Fisk. Since Fisk named Foggy in Season 2 as someone he was aiming to take down, that confrontation is going to happen no matter what-- but if Foggy were the D.A., this takedown might involve bribery and blackmail as part of Fisk’s bid for power. I’m really excited to see how this plotline is handled, and feel confident that-- just like in the comics-- this separation will be a good thing for him, and will end with the recreation of a new, better, stronger Nelson and Murdock.

#Daredevil spoilers #Daredevil vol. 1 #Netflix Daredevil #Foggy Nelson #Commentary #DD Countdown

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