#If one character is out of place the program with crash and it's your fault

[random-random-things]

I think I'm going to try and take my snake game to it's logical conclusion, x86_64 assembly. Honestly, I haven't done much in assembly. I've done what is effectively "hello world" level system level programming in it, embedding some assembly in a C program for a security course (both ~10+ years ago), and some very basic Gameboy Color programming (which is a Z80 clone not x86).

But I think it's all doable by me.

I need, what, system calls for the time to seed a pseudorandom number generator (and a pseudorandom number generator but that should be simple), system calls for read/writes for standard input and output, and system calls for memory mapping and unmapping. Rest of it is basically loops and if statements (like every program isn't basically loops and if statements).

[caliburn-the-sword]

more cress thoughts and reactions (if i wasn't lazy i would start numbering these)

WHAT is with this lunar guard and WHY would he randomly choose to help these guys. since he's a Named Character (but i already forgot) i'm demanding a pov chapter immediately. probably won't get one until we trust him tho rip

NO WAY SCARLET CAN'T DIE OMG - oh thank goodness she's been taken hostage. that's better because it means she has a chance

what is it with cinder and her tendency to pick up strays?? first thorne now the blondie

cinder got that medical rizz (got blondie to take his shirt to staunch blood)

wait how does blondie know that cinder is the lost princess?? did i miss something??? maybe it was something cress mentioned

"Thorne thought maybe it was best for her to practice (cutting bonds) on herself anyway" DAMN BRO COLD

i wonder if the programming making the sat invisible still applies now that it's crashed. if not we're about to have a big problem on our hands

"somehow she’d never worked the sensation of prickly facial hair into her fantasies. She would amend that after this." MISS GIRL WHAT???? that said i find the diction of 'amend that' there's just something so detached about it lmao

OMG THORNE LOST HIS VISION YES THIS IS MAKING ME NUTS

no i agree cress WHY would you give a newly blind man a knife

her hair is getting cut off <3 "It felt as though twenty pounds had been cut from her head" probably because it HAS girly. haircuts are literally magical. feel sad?? get a haircut

"It's not your fault" damn thorne i really appreciate how conscious he is of cinder's and now cress' self blaming problem even though he doesn't act like he's all compassionate. softie

grossed out by thorne kissing a 16 year old even if it was just her hand (someone play sixteen by ayesha erotica)

omg i thought the kids were talking about PRIZE MONEY for a BOUNTY and that we were about to see someone properly threatening appear, not just gummy worms fkshfsdkh. LOVE erland for indulging the children. he seems like a fun uncle type figure to have. i wonder how much those kids make him grieve for his daughter. OMG CINDER MENTION IT I NEED ERLAND'S REACTION

omg cress' descriptions of earth make me feel like i've been taking it for granted <3 i love her to death and i wish her all the happiness in the world

i LOVE thorne's no nonsense attitude, especially when it conflicts with cress' fantasies. yeah!! shake her!! wilderness survival king

tf??? i've never heard of a green sunset????? i'm assuming that this is a rural thing or i'm just gonna pin it down to random radioactive scifi reasons

thorne you know what OTHER than constellations would rule out australia?? THE SAND WOULD BE FUCKING RED. i would know because i did a 6 week cross country road trip across the desert from east to west and back again. i get that he's blind but surely cress would have noticed and thought to mention it (catch me looking for the southern cross constellation whenever i go to the northern hemisphere since it's the only one i can consistently recognise)

whenever cinder gets glamoured she always snaps out of it immediately. even kai, the few times it's happened to him. it's honestly VERY disturbing to read it from scarlet's perspective where she's completely unable to (also now i'm finding kai sus. does he have the implant against his knowledge?? he got out of it with pain but wolf literally got SHOT and stayed glamoured)

LANDED IN AFRICA OMG THEY'RE GONNA REUNITE WITH CINDER. I BET ERLAND HAS ALREADY HEARD NEWS ABOUT THE DROPPED SAT

cress' backstory is intriguing, ESPECIALLY because idk how she's alive. does experimenting really make her THAT worth keeping before her hacking skills came to light?? why does sybil want to keep shells alive in the first place?? she seems very down with eugenics

holding onto neurodivergent coded cress and defending her with my life. of course some traits overlap with her trauma and being isolated for so long

only just remembered this but i guess now my theory of cress not being fully lunar doesn't hold up now that i know her parents. but with what she's saying about her backstory, makes sense why she doesn't identify with lunars that much

maybe it was thorne that i decided was bi??? just by seeing this line about blackmailing a hot pilot if he were in her position??? now that i think about it he had a similar line about kai or something. anyway with thorne saying he would have blackmailed someone i reckon he's just putting on a facade so no one sees him as a softie. but it's still funny to just make characters queer. it's a coping mechanism

OMG NOW THAT THE SATELLITE HAS CRASHED THE LUNARS ARE EXPOSED. I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THAT. but the spyware should ALSO be down unless specific feeds went directly to the palace

this read has been such a treat for me!! i mentioned this on a reblog of one of my first cress post, but for those of you who haven't seen it when i was like. 5. my library had this picture book of the biblically accurate grimms brothers rapunzel. BEAUTIFUL illustrations. i was a silly goofy little kid obsessed with morbidity and i LOVED the gory illustrations of the prince's eyes getting stabbed out by thorns and him wandering around the forest all bloody and blind. i tried to find it online but couldn't!! the closest thing to it was rapunzel by sarah gibb which isn't gloriously violent anyway. i want to see if i can hunt it down irl and let you guys know which one it is but i used to frequent three different local libraries + the school library of my primary school was basically my own playground so i can't remember where i used to read it ;-; but yeah all this is to say i'm obsessed with cress as a retelling of rapunzel by far as someone who has a long history and grew up with it <3

@eddisfargo @francforever @winterrhayle @winterpinetrees

[leiawritesstories]

Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair. 

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job. 

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth. 

As if she knew anything her staff actually did. 

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together. 

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation. 

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself. 

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order. 

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English. 

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

~

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple. 

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved. 

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure. 

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved. 

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve. 

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind. 

“You broke both of your hearts” 

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart. 

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

~

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice. 

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds. 

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city. 

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner. 

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed. 

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction. 

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth. 

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love.  We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. 

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages. 

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan. 

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof. 

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech. 

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying. 

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan. 

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow. 

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything. 

She was worthy of him. 

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified. 

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

~

Present day. 

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked. 

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch. 

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.” 

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

~

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

~

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......

[mxvladdy]

That Diavolo angst was perfect. The best, most high quality cheese at the end. Domestic fluff galore. Decadence straight from the source of your hands.

Could we get some Diavolo fluff with an MC who ran away from home(of lamentation) that wants to spend the night at the castle because the brothers were being dismissive [in tsundere and sibling fun-poking ways] but it just kept reminding MC of their abusive home life in the most innocuous ways

i.e. Satan mocking the books they like for being "too whimsical/fanciful". Asmo making a few too many degrading comments on their skin/hair care or lack thereof (like, tell me the RIGHT way to do it then!  If I'm such a fuck up on my own). Mammon and Belphie.... being Mammon and Belphie.  Levi gate keeping them from devildom equivalent interests because they're "not a real fan if they don't [x]"

A/N: Awww you spoil me with compliments ~^.^~! I hope this is to your liking!

It was late and Diavolo was exhausted. Diavolo looks down at his over inundated schedule, black and red ink covering the pages, barely any of the original white pages could be seen now.  Squinting he chuckles at the elegant handwriting of his butler. He had quite literally penciled in two hours for sleep. A sweet gesture for the evening. It was unfortunate he had wasted half of that time going over in his last meeting of the night. 

The meeting was supposed to be just a brief update on the expansion of the kingdom out west. New trading routes with the colonies and lands not yet in his domain. But, as usual, the evening turned to his exchange program and he always had time to talk about his pet project, even if his schedule didn’t. Each of the brothers was adamant that the program was going well. Better than they had hoped in fact, they all warmed up to you much to his delight, even saying they were treating you like you were part of the family.

That should have been his first clue. He knew the brothers and how they acted with family. Perhaps it was because he was exhausted that the comment went over his head, perhaps it was his own ego telling him everything was going great. He brushed aside the remarks to conclude the meeting and get to his rooms without a second thought. Diavolo practically vibrating with excitement at the hot bath waiting for him. Maybe he could nab some chocolate from Barbatos’s secret stash too. With those sweet thoughts filling his head and his eyes buried in his agenda he overlooks you standing by his door. He skids to a stop only after almost knocking you off your feet with his massive bulk. “My apologies, I did not see you there.” He steadies you looking you over for any injuries. “Do you need something?” He forces an energetic smile onto his face to hide his exhaustion and slight irritation at yet another snag in his evening.

He watches you shuffle in place for a moment, eyes downcast. “Sorry-sorry, it’s silly, but could I stay with you for a bit? I don’t want to be at the house.” Your voice warbles, hands coming up to wipe at fresh tears. Diavolo’s hearts sink, his previous exhaustion taking a backseat to you.  

He beckons you into his room without a second thought. “What’s wrong? What happened?” You shake your head rubbing harder at your face, your skin getting more and more agitated. He purrs deep in his chest pulling you close on instinct to comfort you and for you to stop agitating your skin. You bury your face in his uniform.

“It’s stupid really, I don’t know why I’m upset.” You laugh. The weak sound getting caught on a wet hiccup. “I just can’t handle the teasing right now.” Anger begins to brew in his gut, the brothers, you were obviously talking about them. Had he been to lose with his leash? Did they lie to him?

He leads you to his favorite chair by the window and crouches next to you. “Explain, please? If I need to correct this I will.” He listens, letting you vent and get your frustration out. He never had siblings nor any real family to relate your experiences with like you did, but he understood the mounting weight of words. There was only so much one could take before even the strongest shoulders crumble. “I’m sorry they hurt you.” He reaches to squeeze your knee in reassurance. “I could have Barbatos explain the matter to them, if you allow it.”

You sniff and give him a watery smile. “Thank you but I have to express this myself- I just needed some time away from them.” You cover his large hand with both of yours and squeeze back. “Thanks for listening.” Diavolo rumbles warmly, eyes locking with your warm hands.

“Anytime mi giglio,” He leans back onto his heels. “If I’m honest, their little jabs are utter baseless garbage.”

“Yeah?” You chuckle wiping your nose with his gifted handkerchief. “You don’t think I’m some boring sentimental human?” He shakes his head letting out a dismissive snort. You are beautiful and if Asmo was too blinded by his own standards and routines then it was his loss. He loves the character and different textures of your body. He loves your permanent laugh lines and the way your skin by your eyes crinkle when you smile. The way your nose scrunches when you are happy just makes him glow when in your presence.

Even the tiny scars and marks on your skin told stories that his body never could be able to do. He envied the way human lives could be seen through their bodies, the stories their bodies tell with or without them knowing was amazing. Demons, with their smooth lines, tight hard skin, and hidden agendas couldn’t do that. The idea of “gate-keeping” as you called it was a completely new contempt to him, and sounded ridiculous too. It was counterintuitive to his whole program. If you enjoyed the programs and culture then why were the brothers chastising you over it? He makes a mental note to find time off to take you to enjoy some of the sights of his Devildom without the brother's judgment.

“No. You- you,” He waves his free hand in the air trying to find words that won’t embarrass him. “You are fascinating and so unashamed of your interests. The life you live is unlike any demon or fallen angel could ever comprehend. If they tease you on such trivial things then that speaks to a fault in their character, not yours.” He lets them hang in the air between you, not wanting the meaning to be lost in useless banter.

The silence between you was comfortable and Diavolo basked in it. Normally silence was always tense around him, everyone always waiting for a decree or punishment. Right now though there is none of that. “Wise words, where did you get them?” You move away to pat at your blotchy face, trying to wipe away the tear stains.

Diavolo huffs at the loss of your soft touch. “Little D.” He jokes, voice deadpan. You laugh turning to face him. “There we are!” He cracks a small grin already feeling your mood relax. Leaning in close he wipes away a stray tear. “Feeling a bit better?  Perhaps we can-” Your phone buzzes from your discarded bag making you jump apart. You rush over digging through the bag to grab the blasted device looking at the rapid-fire amount of texts and calls all come in at once. “The brothers?” Diavolo sighs cursing their interruption. He can see the long streams of text bubbles scroll by in the reflection of your damp eyes.

“Yeah.” You look up from your screen. “They are wondering where I am.” Diavolo grimaces not even trying to hide his feelings. You glance back at the phone with little interest, then shrug powering it off. “I think I can let them stew in it for a bit, don’t you? Mind if I crash here for the night?” The Devil perks up, gold eyes following the trajectory of your phone as you toss it. The decorative case disappearing into the cushions.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He claps his hands together in excitement. “Come! Read me one of the stories Satan found jejune. I think I have a few Devildom children's stories on a shelf somewhere to share too!” Diavolo gets up already deciding which room you will stay in for the evening. Perhaps if he plays his cards right you could stay the weekend.

[yinses]

salvation and redemption   if you could only save one soul in this wretched world fyodor dostoevsky x reader rating: t  a/n: interrupting our normal scheduled programming for this idea i couldn’t get out of my head after going through my 5th rerun of bsd. i’ve always found fyodor to be an interesting character and he remains as an enigma i can’t shake.

“you love me right, kroshka?”

your hand paused at the crown of his head, a lapse in both your thought and judgement. it should have been a practiced answer for you, with how often he asked it. your response should have been expected as well, certainly given how his arms-his hands warmed your body. being with him was like living with a bomb inside your chest, a timer with no limit as he teased your existence by his mere proximity. 

everyone assumed you’d been numbed by experience. no one truly trusted a man like fyodor do. so of course you were simply submissive by defeat. you couldn’t escape if you wanted, so why not be pliant and just enjoy the life you were given until he deemed it time for your retribution. 

but in truth, you never feared fyodor in the way others did. 

you didn’t dread what he was, your trepidation stemmed from the person he once was. a child lost in his own ideals and thrown head first into a task bigger than himself. 

for as long as you could remember, it had always been you telling him not to worry. that it would always work itself out somehow. and in the event it didn’t? you would be there to save the day. 

in your youth, due to your ability, you likened yourself as a hero. not the super kind, with all the strength and posture. no, you were more comfortable behind the scenes, the afterthought once all the glory had dispersed. 

everyone liked to think it all happened in a simple swoop. the champion would defeat the adversary, stop the chaos and life would go on. but only for those unaffected by the utter destruction left behind. crumbling infrastructure and a debilitated economy. 

growing up in moscow was just another city under the predation of evils and conflict. it was easy for such a place to worship the one who could bring forth deliverance. yet in the overwhelming relief of the downfall of the perpetrator, they often forgot about the repentance of the souls and atmosphere that was distributed in the process. 

truly what did grieving do for anyone but bandage cracks when they needed to be filled. 

as a child you had more cracks than porcelain should have allowed, yet the integrity remained if only in name. 

“watch out!”

“wait, fyodor don’t!”

but you were too late. with a sigh, you fell to your knees uncaring of the blood that stained your already soiled socks as you cradled the dead canine. it had been made feral by nature, instead of choice. starved due to the lack of substance in his environment and forced to turn on whatever viable option was left. 

you were just children. fleshy but not overly meaty and certainly not part of its diet. he struck out of his own fears of humans, cruelty baring its vulnerability to the world. in search of your own next meal, you’d stumbled unknowingly into its territory. 

already dirty from the streets, fyodor hadn’t seconded his thoughts when he’d darted for the nearest trash can in hopes of salvaging anything to appease your stomachs. he’d been a moment too late to see the dog hidden in the corner, already thrown back by a lunge before he could dare to evade. it had been instinct for him to strike first, a thoughtless punishment executed out of fright. 

rubbing his freshly scraped palms against his ratty jacket, fyodor spared you a sour look. “yes, kroshka, im fine. thanks for asking.” his dry reply went unacknowledged as he rustled through the garbage. 

in the changing seasons of russia, even the newly dead didn’t take long to scum to the cold. despite the insulation, it’s coat already had a chill as you ran your fingers through it’s fur. 

“you’re not actually going to bring it back are you?”

uncaring of the way it stained your clothing, you drew the dog close to your chest as a dull light m encompasses your body. in that moment, time seemed to stop as if altered by a silent command before it backpedaled backwards without regard for reality. at the first shift of life, you carefully disentangle yourself and put distance between you as the animal slowly comes to terms with its restoration. 

not even a drop of blood was present as evidence of its past demise. shaking it’s coat, it stood on unstable legs, gaze filled with trepidation without cognition. a good deed should bare fruits of gratitude. 

so why were you suffering from the sharp pain of fangs tearing into the flesh of your shoulder? your cry was short lived, however, as fyodor jumped back into action, a quick touch of it palm undoing your works. 

in his haste, he’d carelessly knocked over the metal trash bin causing the crash to echo through the night. coupled with your cry of pain and the wail of repeated death, it was no surprise that your commotion attracted attention. 

“not every life deserves a second chance.” 

you don’t fight it when his fingers close around your wrist and he promptly drags you out of sight. whether the police or less honorable citizens, it wouldn’t be good for the two of you to linger too long. your hand grips the curve of your shoulder where the attack had just missed your throat. a second light show reveals a dingy shirt but one without tatter or blood. the pain from the bite gone with it but the sting of your decision lingers. 

“not every deed should be punished,” you whisper. 

you expect for him to stop you then, overcome with the need to debate but he continues to drag you along, making up for your lack of speed with his strength. 

“this world wouldn’t need either if it wasn’t so cruel. maybe then people like us could be happy for a change.”

for orphans, a strive for happiness was best waited out until you could age enough to properly take it from the world at will. eventually the two of you would be able to contribute to society and earn a decent living. 

it was easier to dream of a house. not too big or small. one that sat comfortably on a plot of land away from the dirt and grime of the city. you’d live off your own crops and grow old by your own ambitions. these for the aspirations that manifested in your heart. leaving only room for emotions like acceptance and expectation. 

but fyodor was already sowing the seeds of condemnation and reformation. tired of the mishandling of the world and the path it was on. as a child he promised you a life without faults. you couldn’t have imagined at that age, how many of his own would manifest in turn. 

yet out of obligation- or perhaps maybe it was affection. you stayed with him. slowly the hero of your story became the villain and your backstage presence was pushed further and further out of your inherent role of retribution. 

what good would punishment be if you unraveled the seams of disciple after all? 

salvation and redemption. 

that’s the name given to your ability. 

the ability to reverse the wrongs of the world, at the price of your own soul. for as black as this reality was becoming, at your rate you would have long been swallowed up had it not been for his intervention. 

gradually your hand picked back up its pace, fingers working their way under dark tresses as you scratched at the scalp. for some many years, you’d only known the body lain against you to be cold, shivering against the bricked walls of abandoned buildings. but because of his actions, his directive- now you were both warm, fed and properly housed. 

no, you didn’t need to be the hero. they only ever perished in the end. 

just his salvation. 

his excuse for redemption while he scoured the world for crime and provided the diligent punishment. 

dropping your head, you pressed your lips against the rise of his cheek.

“until the end, fyodor.” 

[miraculouswolf99]

Miraculous Lemonade (Song Fic)

I love the movie Lemonade Mouth and thought that the favoritism shown to the athletes over everyone else on the movie was similar to the favoritism shown to those with high-ranking parents in Miraculous Ladybug. So, an idea instantly formed in my mind. Includes my original characters Lyon and Vallia Garden.

*****

Adrien sat in the park outside of the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, eating with is two friends from Greece, Lyon and Vallia Garden. The two were doing an exchange program that helped students from other countries experience other cultures. They spoke fluent French, so they came to Paris. Adrien met them years ago when his family went to a charity fashion show that was held at the animal and nature sanctuary that Lyon and Vallia’s family owned.

The three may be a “little” annoyed with what had just happened at school. Lila “Liar” Rossi had framed Marinette for cheating, assault, and theft. Adrien made, what he called, a “deal with the devil” to get Marinette back in school. But it seemed that after her first few days back, Marinette’s parents decided it was better for her to go to an arts school instead of Dupont. 

What infuriated the trio the most was that the school made no effort to investigate any of Lila’s accusations. There was no checking the security footage, no dusting for fingerprints, not even any hearing of Marinette’s side of the story. They simply took Lila at her word and some easily framed evidence to expel the best student at Dupont. It made them all furious.

“You know the favoritism shown at your school is appalling, right,” Vallia raised an eyebrow as she looked at her friend.

Adrien sighed. “I know, I know. But what could I do about it? I’m the son of a fashion designer, not a politician like Chloe.”

“That brat’s a part of the problem, anyway,” Lyon scoffed. “The entire school was punished and she is the only one that gets out of it? I’ve seen less corrupt politicians in Gotham, and that says something.”

“I know people criticize me for being Chloe’s friend, but would you two give up a friend that you’ve had since you were a kid,” Adrien asked them.

“Honestly, no,” Vallia said. “We get how you feel, Adrien, but one day Chloe will do something unforgivable and you will have to choose between her and your other friends.”

“I think I chose a while ago but just didn’t want to admit it,” Adrien says. “Chloe had her chance to be a better person when she was Queen Bee. But even after getting to be a hero, she still got her father, Sabrina, and Aurore akumatized.”

“Is there anyone she hasn’t akumatized,” Lyon crossed his arms.

“Out of all our class, only Marinette and I have not been akumatized,” Adrien says. “And for everyone that has, only Max, Nino, and Lila were not akumatized by her.”

“Well, Lila being akumatized was probably her own fault anyway,” Lyon shrugged. “She lies with every breath she takes and one of them probably bit her in the butt at one time or another.”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you guys yet, have I,” Adrien thought he had told them already.

“Told us what,” Vallia asked.

“You two were not here when she had her real first day,” Adrien tells them. “Lila lied on Alya’s blog about being Ladybug’s best friend. She had met me after school and tried to lie about not only being the descendant of a hero but also being the holder of the fox miraculous.”

“Seriously,” Lyon raised an eyebrow. “She was actually that stupid? Why not just put up a giant light-up sign that says ‘Hawkmoth, come and attack me,’ with her address written in neon.”

“If she hasn’t been targeted, Hawkmoth probably knows that she’s a liar,” Vallia said.

Adrien nodded. “During our conversation, Ladybug herself showed up. She probably saw Lila’s interview because she immediately called Lila out for her lies. Ladybug obviously hates liars as much as Marinette. Lila ran away and the next thing I know, she is breaking into my house while akumatized as Volpina and once again claiming to be a hero.”

“So that’s how you know she’s a liar,” Vallia understood now. “But why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because at the time she was only lying to get attention and friends,” Adrien said. “Have you seen my class, we’re all special in a lot of ways. Alya runs the most popular blog in Paris. Nino gets a lot of attention as a DJ. Juleka, Rose, and Ivan are members of a band that has been getting a lot of attention lately. Rose is friends with Prince Ali. Chloe is the mayor’s daughter. I am a model and the face of my dad’s brand. Even Marinette knows Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and has impressed my father and Chloe’s Style Queen of a mother with her designs. Compared to all of us, Lila’s lies are not that unbelievable.”

Vallia and Lyon actually see where he was coming from. Being surrounded by people her own age and yet they have accomplished so much, it made sense why Lila would want to lie about herself like that.

“But then she took things too far, right,” Lyon asked his friend.

Adrien nodded. “Once she came back from her, so called, trip to Achu, she started using her lies to manipulate the class, which you guys have seen. She lied about having tinnitus so she could sit next to me, lied about having a sprained wrist to get Kim to carry her lunch tray, she even lied about having an allergy to tomatoes to make Rose take them out of her salad for her.”

“Isn’t that why she was akumatized into Chameleon,” Vallia remembered Adrien telling them. “You told her to stop lying.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said. “When she suddenly left for her ‘trip,’ I saw no reason to humiliate her by telling people about Ladybug calling her out. Plus, it’s not like they had any reason to believe me since none of them ever believed Marinette when she told them that Lila is a liar.”

“And it does not help that no one in school ever tries to actually fact-check her stories,” Lyon rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like it’s hard, either,” Vallia agreed with her brother. “Jagged Stone published his autobiography three months ago. There is no mention of a cat, a plane crash, or anyone named Lila in the entire book. It even specifically says that he had Fang, his crocodile, since he was twenty. That is fifteen years that he has had him.”

“I know, I know, my school is full of the most gullible people in Paris,” Adrien sighed. “And now that Marinette is gone, it seems like Chloe and Lila have teamed up and are ruling the school with iron fists. I can barely get a minute without one of them hanging off my arm.”

“And it’s not like any of the teachers or Damocles are doing anything,” Lyon says. “I’ve seen you, ask, request, and even demand for them to let go of you and they never do. You’ve even done it in front if some teachers and none of them ever did anything.”

“It’s the daughter of the mayor and the daughter of a diplomat,” Vallia sighed. “They will, most likely, never do anything. Even if it involves the son of a rich fashion designer.”

“It’s not like we can do anything about it,” Adrien sounded defeated. “Damocles is too afraid of losing money from the mayor and it’s not like Chloe and Lila are ever going to change.”

He was rubbing his very sore and bruised upper right arm, which Lila had been holding onto very tightly for most of the school day. And he knew that he would also probably have to deal with more of her harassment at the next photoshoot that he has with her.

“But... can even Damocles deny change when the entire school is rallied against him and those like him,” Lyon smirked.

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Lyon, and I am in total agreement,” Vallia brightly smiled.

“Uh... mind cluing me in, guys,” Adrien was completely lost.

“Well, you know that Lyon and I are friends with Clara Nightingale,” Vallia started.

Adrien nodded. When the pop star had come to Paris to shoot her “Miraculous” music video, she had basically tackled the twins when she saw them. Apparently, she had met them years ago when she did a charity concert at their family sanctuary and even now treated the two like they were younger siblings to her.

“Clara had told us the reason why she started performing in the first place,” Lyon continued for his sister. “When she was our age, she attended a high school that focused entirely on athletics and nothing else. To the point where all other extracurriculars were pushed into the basement with no budget for any of them. So she used her music to spread the massage of what was happening. She wound up getting a sponsor for the music program that built an entire auditorium for her school even when the principal tried to deny it.”

“So, she basically started a music revolution,” Adrien summed up.

“Exactly,” Vallia says. “We can do the same here. Use music to show that not everyone tolerates the favoritism. It should prove more of a problem since all three of us are rich but also see it as a problem.”

“We should probably also add those that are not like us,” Adrien says. “Kitty Section could help, plus Luka and Juleka are not under Lila’s spell.”

“But Rose and Ivan are,” Lyon reminded. “Without them, we would not have a drummer or a singer. Vallia and I can sing, but neither of us play the drums. I’m classically trained on the violin and Vallia doesn’t play any instrument.”

“Kim plays the drums,” Vallia said. “And when Lila got Marinette expelled, he snapped out of her spell.”

“Guess we have our plan,” Adrien says. 

“We’ll talk with Nathaniel and Marc,” Lyon said. “They can spread it to the rest of the school and we will soon have as much support as we will need before we perform and get the Board of Education involved.”

“But what about your father, Adrien,” Vallia was worried about her friend’s ‘stick-in-the-mud’ of a parent. “He would never agree with you being a part of any type of revolution.”

“Well, my father will just have to deal with it,” Adrien shrugged. “Plus, I can always spin it to make it look good for the brand when my fans see it as me trying to help those that are neglected because they are not rich.”

The twins smirked as they walked off to get their friends in on their plan.

*****

Luka and Juleka were more than happy to use music to change Dupont for the better. Luka went to an arts school, but Juleka wanted a normal school and she was currently regretting her choice. Kim was also very glad to finally be able to show that he was more than just a jock and that he was about more than just dares and jokes. Seeing the bruises that Lila and Chloe had been leaving on Adrien’s arms just motivated them even more.

They decided to give their performance at a school dance that was coming soon. The entire school would be there. And when they talked to Marc, his class’s president Aurore contacted the Board of Education and they were going to send a few members to check out the problem.

“You guys ready,” Luka asked them as he picked up his guitar. 

“Ready as we will ever be,” Juleka answers.

“I’m just glad to finally be able to stick it to the man,” Kim grins brightly.

“The song you guys chose is certainly a good one,” Adrien looks at Lyon and Vallia.

“What can we say, we love American Disney movies,” Vallia smirked. “Makes us glad that we’re fluent in english.”

The dance got dark, allowing them to get onto the stage that was set up for them. They had convinced Damocles to let them perform, saying they had an important message to give out with their music. Since three of the performers were rich, he let them. It did not go unnoticed how he had rejected Kitty Section when they had wanted to perform at the last dance even when they had told him the same thing.

Adrien stood behind the keyboard as Kim sat at the drums while Juleka picked up her bass and Luka stood with his guitar. Lyon was taking the lead singing position while Vallia was back-up vocals and running their “special” effects. They all had their own mics for them they took turns singing their verses. They were going to get their message out whether people at Dupont wanted it to or not.

Adrien was just glad he managed to avoid both Lila and Chloe since there was no way either of them would have let go of him and let him perform. But after this, he hoped to never have to deal with either of them ever again.

The music started, the spotlights shining down on them. Lyon took the lead and began.

Lyon- “Hear it getting louder, a call for revolution Yeah, we came for what was ours, it's time for restitution We'll protect our own, take back the stone No, human nature cannot hold us down.” Luka- “Stranded at the bottom, but we're more than a whisper No, we'll never be forgotten, our blood's thicker than silver, yeah When worlds collide, it's do or die So tell me, is it wrong to stand your ground?” Lyon+ Luka- “Hear us howl, all or nothing Fangs are out, we ain't running Hear us howl, it's all or nothing.” All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.”

Lyon gave a wink to his sister and she started the real part of the show. With members of the board in the audience, this was going to force some changes to be made. 

She pressed a button, images and videos started showing on the giant screen behind them. If they could see the board members, they would have seen some very furious faces.

All of the images were of destroyed property, bruises or scratches on people, and even of old things like the destroyed make-up bag that Chloe took a marker to. Then was the clear message when pictures of Lila and Chloe were shown with GUILTY under their pictures then with pictures of the school staff with DOES NOTHING under them.

Lila, Chloe, and Damocles were all white as ghosts.

Vallia- “The world has gone crazy and no one seems to listen Gotta step in, no more maybes, and stop the demolition Is it hope or fear? Look in the mirror Everything we built is coming down.” Juleka- “No more hesitation, it's time we start to realize With all this separation, silence is still taking sides So use your voice, make a choice And tell me, are you standing with the crowd?” All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.” Then videos were played on the screen. The first were from the day that Marinette was expelled. It was footage from the school security cameras that they got when Markov, the ever helpful AI, hacked into them when the group asked for his help. He was more than happy to help slap some sense into Max.

It clearly showed Lila taking the test answers and putting them in Marinette’s bag. It also showed her fake falling down the stairs and placing her necklace into Marinette’s locker. The video moved on to showing all the times that her or Chloe would grab onto Adrien and would never let go no matter how many times he told them to. The video also showed it happening in front of teachers and they never did anything.

More videos showed Chloe bullying, destroying other art projects that were not her own, and even all the things she did that got most of the class akumatized when it happened on school grounds. They also got videos from Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and every other celebrity that Lila lied about. All of them saying they had never met Lila in their lives. All six- “Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy We say no more bad blood, no more bad blood Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy No way, they can't stop us, no, they can't stop us Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy We say no more bad blood, no more bad blood Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy No way, they can't stop us, no, they can't stop us.”

More videos and photos identified every bully in the school. Each and every single one of them being rich, or have influential parents that Damocles was afraid of, or both. The other students all gathered near the stage, showing their support to the band and hardly anyone supporting the staff or the bullies. Alya was still speechless over Lila’s lies being revealed and what she had said to Marinette in “defense” of Lila. Sabrina was also pale as she remembered everything that Chloe ever made her do, like stealing Marinette’s diary and locking Juleka in the bathroom. Adrien- “History changes, but we lost the pages we wrote When you lose direction, can't see the reflection you know We came from the bottom then became the problem Now everything's out of control So hey, are you with me? Let's go!”

The students cheered and danced as the band all sang. They all knew that they were now going to finally be free of the bullies and liars that have been plaguing their lives for years. All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.”

The band finished with a bang, staring down the staff with cold eyes that said that they regretted nothing. Everyone they stared as were about as pale as a person could be.

After the dance, the Board of Education members brought everything that they had learned and seen to the rest of the board. Actions were immediately taken over the weekend. There was an intense investigation into the school and every member of the staff. Not that surprising, but Mendeleiev was the only staff member that never did anything wrong but was constantly blocked from doing anything by the other staff members.

Damocles was revealed to have been using money granted to the school for things like locker upgrades and new textbooks for his Owl gear instead. Plus he was also found out to be taking many bribes from parents of the bullies to not only keep them from being punished but to also increase their grades if they were low. He was fired immediately.

Bustier also faces a lot of consequences. When the investigation was made known, dozens of her old students came forward. It was revealed that her methods have caused all of them pain. She had spent years coddling the bullies and punishing the victims. Many ended up in therapy while the bullies usually ended up in jail for mostly violent crimes. She had her teaching license revoked and was blacklisted from ever teaching again.

The rest of the staff were all suspended until they finished courses about how to deal with bullies, how to properly run a classroom, as well as all of them having to pay finds.

All of the bullies were either expelled or suspended, depending on how horrible they were. A lot of them were having to repeat the grade because of how much their parents had spent to keep their grades up while they did hardly any work. 

Alya, while being sued for the lies she posted on her blog, did not do anything else beyond cyber bullying of Marinette. But that did get her another lawsuit from her former best friend’s parents as well as being suspended from school for a week. Her parents forced her to delete the Ladyblog.

Chloe and Lila were, of course, the worst of them all.

Chloe ended up expelled and it was found out that she was also banded from every private school in the city because of how well her bullying habits were known. Her father was also facing multiple accusations of abuse of power because of how he handled problems that his daughter caused. Chloe could also hardly ever leave the hotel without being sneered or yelled at by literally everyone in Paris.

Lila was not only expelled, but also had giant finds placed on her after she was arrested for her months of truancy. Every celebrity she had ever lied about was also suing her for slander, defamation, and libel. It was also revealed that her mother had taken away her diplomatic immunity once she had learned about all the lies that her daughter told her and everyone around her. Her reputation as a liar has spread all throughout France and she will never be able to use her schemes ever again. Her mother makes sure to inform all her future teachers and principals about her lying and bullying habits.

All while this is happening, the new band clinks their glasses together as they cheers for a job well done. And if Adrien also happens to be kissed by a certain Greek lead singer, that is just a bonus for him.

[hayleyb100]

Light My Way, Part 2

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 the end

⚠️ WARNING! ⚠️

-It is a twisted story of Pokemon Sun and Moon, and a crossover of Pokemon SM and SWSH.  -It features Hau and Kabu as the main characters. -Extremely angsty. -Everything is headcanon. -It isn’t spoiler-free.

It suddenly felt warm as if the long grim winter passed and the spring came. Hau slowly opened his eyes. His last memory was that horrid, fearful scene of a blonde lady's smirk, but somehow, he woke up on a hospital bed.

"Oh my gosh! He's awake! Doctor! Nanu! He's up!"

Olivia, who was nursing Hau, quickly summoned the doctor and Nanu who were talking outside.

"Are you okay boy? You sure got us worried." Nanu asked scratching his back head.

Hau, still looking confused, nodded slowly. He only then realized that the respirator was attached to his nose along with other medical monitors.

"You were out cold for 8 months, kid." Nanu shook his head, as he told what was going on to puzzled Hau.

"Th... That's as far as he has to know, Nanu." Olivia stopped him.

Hau finally realized what was going on. The glass case, sheer cold, blackout, evil smirk, frost. He was in a cold sleep like the other pokemons for half a year. Everything felt like a dream. It didn't feel real that Hau slept for that long.

Hau tried to move his fingers and limbs, but they didn't cooperate well. Instead, the pain struck Hau that made him frown and twitch.

"Don't try to move so much yet... Your muscles are not healed completely from the cold sleep. And since it wasn't used for a long while, you need time for rehabilitation." Olivia explained.

Despite Olivia's explanation, Hau desperately moved his head around to search for people who he needed the most right now. Someone who can comfort him. He tried to call them but even his voice wasn't working.

"Are you looking for your mother and grandfather?" Nanu sighed.

"Nanu! Not now!" Olivia interrupted Nanu, flustered as heck.

"Hey. He has to know. The more we hide, the more he'll hurt." Nanu snapped.

"Listen. Your mother and grandfather... Passed away. 5 months ago."

That was as far as Hau could hear. Hau kept telling Nanu that it isn't real with his eyes. He wanted to deny it so badly, but Nanu's serious face was telling it was a rigid truth.

"After you have gone missing, your mother was looking for you everywhere. But she had a tragic accident near the coastline. She didn't rest enough for many days so she missed her step at the beach cliff in extreme fatigue. And..."

Nanu inhaled deeply before he continued.

"And your grandfather... His heart gave out when he heard the news about his daughter-in-law. He was already feeling way too guilty that his son left Alola and you have gone missing because of him, but that was the last straw."

Devastation came crashing down like a meteor.

Hau's world started caving in. The despicable fear of being left alone in the world engulfed an 11 years old boy in an instant. Olivia held Hau's hand saying Nanu and she would stay beside him and take care of him, but those words just scattered into the air.

Only one thought obsessed Hau.

It's my fault.

I lead my mom and Tutu to death.

Because I was stupid to follow that woman, I lead my whole family to death.

Hau's eyes lost the liveliness in a snap of a finger and his body froze yet again in despair.

"Don't worry! We are reaching out to your father in another region, so I'm sure he'll come to get you soon." Olivia told something to lay the hope on, but Hau kept trembling in fear.

Few days passed, but there was no sign of Hau's dad anywhere. Hau's dad lied low and refused to come back to Alola because he didn't want to take responsibility. Since Kahuna Hala was respected by many Alolans, it was obvious that when he goes back, everyone will flak him intensely. So he decided to abandon Hau YET again, and dump all his responsibilities on his son. He was sorry, but he had no choice. He had to live.

But to Hau who doesn't know his so-called father's dirty intentions, only thought that his dad isn't coming because he hates him. It was no surprise to him since he leads his whole family to grim death and his body isn't functioning as well as it used to. Hau thought he was well worth abandoning. And it was double the pain to think he is as worthless and forgettable as a scab. It wrecked his self-esteem to the rock bottom.

Few weeks passed as Hau went through the remedial exercise programs to get his mobility back, but it didn't make a lot of progress. Hau's will to get back on his feet was zero since he saw no point in it. He frequently refused to eat and take medication. The doctors were struggling too, as the patient wasn't cooperating. Nanu and Olivia took turns to take care of Hau, but Hau severely refused to see Kahunas since it is what pushed him to extreme pressure and ended up running away from home... Ultimately, to his family's downfall.

Nanu and Olivia discussed the matter on how to turn the table around. Olivia suggested that they should hurry and find a loving new home for Hau. If adopting is difficult, they should find at least a foster family to take care of him.

"Wouldn't he refuse to get into a new family?" Nanu questioned.

"Yes, but Hau needs a new home anyway... When he is discharged from the hospital, he doesn't have anywhere to go. So we need to arrange a home for Hau as soon as possible. It would have been the best if he followed you or me, but he is refusing it. Plus, Hapu and the other Captains are way too young to take care of a child. And there's no way we can leave that poor little boy all alone in an empty home at Melemele Island. So, he needs someone."

Nanu nodded since what Olivia said was true. Although they didn't know why Hau was pushing them away, he adamantly refused to stay with either one of the two Kahunas. Hau's trauma of losing his grandfather forced him to push them away. He was afraid that the same fate lies if he stayed with them. He insisted that he would rather stay home alone in Melemele Island than owning them.

After a few weeks, doctors seriously thought Hau settled with a new family first, since the treatment wasn't making any progress. They realized that he needs support and love to treat wounds at heart before anything else. So they discussed with the two Kahunas about Hau's foster family. Many foster parents volunteered to take Hau in. But one couple caught the Kahunas' eyes since their home is located in Akala Island. They thought it would be better for Hau to stay away from Melemele Island for now to avoid triggers. They arranged and bridged the foster couple with Hau. Hau was unwilling to go, but they didn't want to burden Nanu and Olivia anymore, so he followed the foster parents.

But that didn't end well. Not at all.

The foster parents were expecting a sweet and innocent child, but Hau was none of that according to them. He was gloomy and quiet and was even unwell. They got tired of Hau very quickly, who isn't the child they were hoping to get. Within only a few weeks, they gave up the fostering as if they are refunding the item they purchased.

Nanu and Olivia were extremely upset, so they were determined to get a proper home for Hau this time. The next foster parents seemed very kind and gentle, but Nanu and Olivia didn't let their guard down. But for a while they dedicated a lot to Hau, giving Kahunas the trust. But they gave up on fostering yet again. In reality, they were coveting over Hala's bequest. Since there was no love for Hau, to begin with, they easily got fed up of taking care of sick child. Hau was sent back to the hospital and they vanished to somewhere, away from Kahunas' rage.

Hau was now careless. He knew he wasn't worth loving, but the two times of rejection weighed heavily on him. At this point, Hau was feeling helpless and giving up on himself. He thought even if he was kicked out from the hospital and left alone on the street, it was fine. After all, everyone would be frustrated if they have to take care of a child that isn't worth their time and effort. It would be frustrating for them to care for a child that everyone hates. Hau understood. He took away Kahuna everyone loved when he wasn't even cut to replace Hala's place.

I am worth being hated, Hau thought.

It's a cruel tragedy how children are so innocent, that they cannot imagine how some adults can be so malicious. And since they can't imagine that fact, they always blame themselves when it is the adults who are irresponsible and selfish. It was the same with Hau. Everything felt like it was his fault. If I wasn't such a coward, if I wasn't stupid enough to follow that woman, if I have just listened to Tutu... All the regrets choked him and justified all the childish and selfish behaviors of adults around him. He just gave up. He didn't even want to know what would happen next. He even felt that it would have been better off if he remained in cold sleep, forgotten by everyone. Hau grew gaunt day by day.

Several weeks passed, and the season changed. Hau remained indifferent and emotionless. He blankly watched how sprouts grow and flowers bloomed day by day outside the hospital window. Everything changed except him. That made him even more miserable. Little did he know, the turn of his life was approaching him.

"Hey, kid."

It was Nanu. And he was with someone.

"...I know you're fed up with me for saying this, but someone who wants to foster you is here."

Hau didn't pay attention. He just looked back at Nanu as if he was saying whatever. He thought he would just stay for a few weeks and come back to the hospital again.

The person who was standing next to Nanu smiled gently and stroked Hau's hand.

"Hello, Hau. My name is Kabu, the one who will foster you."

[cgmayra]

Amy Rose Prompt: Strong

It’s a birthday week! I just thought of this one while watching some inspiring and emotional scenes from all different types of animation. I guess my birthday wish is for characters that I’ve longed to see have a ‘strong impacting moment’ have them again sometime in the future that pumps us all up to cheer for them!

Commissions and prompts are open, but if you’ve submitted 3 ideas already, please hold off and let others have a try! :Db Thank you!

Prompt:

“Metal Sonic!!!” Amy spread her legs into a balanced stance. Her scuffed up boot dug deeper into the ground to give her a firm footing. The wind howled like a forlorn cry as she brought her hammer up, beginning to twirl it around herself as she did when she miraculously deflected Eggman’s canon-fire.

Metal Sonic was already going after his first priority: Sonic.

However, this little pink hedgehog was proving to be quite the nuisance.

He stopped in his departure and turned to see her still rearing to fight, but his scanners only saw her as an annoyance, not a threat.

The image of Rosy the Rascal was engraved in his memory, Amy Rose could not change his view of her. Pathetic.

“I won’t let you run!” she cried out, feeling the ache in her back and to alleviate some of it’s pressure, she hunched forward just slightly. “You will never be like Sonic The Hedgehog!”

It’s head turned with a creek of its steel, and its eyes blazed red in a heated acknowledgement of her words.

She found a moment to take a step forward, pushing herself to make him see her, to defeat the doubts that told her she could be destroyed trying to take him on.

“I’ve decided something, Metal... I’ve decided... I’m not going to try and redeem you.” she squinted her eyes, feeling her heart grow heavy as she admitted that.

He continued to stare at her, now fully turning his body towards her.

“Instead, I’m going to defeat you!” She took her existing hammer and swung it out, making it grow even larger than when Eggman had tried to trap her in that cavern.

“I could only make that decision because I knew two things, Metal Sonic! One, that you will never measure up to Sonic!”

Metal Sonic’s body hunched over, twitching in his rage.

“And secondly... Not just that... but that you don’t have a heart to redeem.” She turned to a moment of tenderness, as though still wishing that weren’t the case. “You’re true to following your programming, and being what you are... a villain. No, worse than that, a villain’s puppet... bent on being nothing more than a nuisance in this world!” She stepped forward again, “So no matter what I say to you, no matter how hard I try and teach you about friendship and the beauty found in this intangible world... you will only hate. Comparing yourself to Sonic, you are nothing like him! He taught Tails how to fly a plane!” she sped herself back into a ready stance as he charged her. It was like he was teleporting, how fast he moved.

He sent a slashing hand through to her center but she reflexed to holding her hammer like a sword engaging against a metallic shredder.

“Grr...Urk... HARRRAH!!!” she threw him off, and he flew back a moment.

“He brought Knuckles out of his isolation!” She swung her hammer to deflect his version of a homing-attack.

All the while, he was moving her back down the mountain, as though proving a point... she could never face him head-on...

As though mocking her for trying, he kept his next consecutive attacks with full force but slower, allowing her to block and continue to be pushed back by his power.

“Urk, gah... ha!” she blocked again and again, trying to swipe at him but he expertly would dodge her.

Zooming in to grab her hammer, he decided now would be a good time to boost his thrusters and send her farther back down the rocky cliff.

“AHHH!!!” he shoved her down and the hardness of the rock scraped against her bareback side.

He tried to pull the hammer out of her grasp, but she held on, making him pull her up as she took a foot and jammed it above his rotating center core, burning with fuel to allow him to operate.

She kicked off and he willingly let go... to him, this was mere child’s play. Just a way to shake her off his tail while he continued to hunt down Sonic.

She landed well but felt herself start to strain. ‘Not now...’ she got herself back up, ‘Not yet.’ she took her hammer in both hands, moving it clumsily over her shoulder.

“Y-you forget... or you don’t know-!” she bent herself, getting ready for the biggest home-run of her life. “Who taught me to fight..!” she charged forward, and underestimating her momentary rest, Metal Sonic leisurely lifted a hand to stop her but was slammed down by the unforeseen force that came with her hit.

He was knocked to the side, his eye-lights shaking due to his mental computer unable to compute what had just happened.

“He helped me to never give up!” she swung again, forcing him back to his feet and then slammed him down once more, “He taught me that you make your own destiny!!! The way you envision it! The way you want it to be!”

She kept hammering into him, and soon, as he began to step back... unable to brace himself from her impacts, he was losing pieces of his metal hide one after the other.

He stumbled, tripped, and fell over himself with each massive hit she threw at him... now he was the one getting pushed back up the mountain’s side...

“You will never be like him... because you don’t know what’s it like! You’ll never understand what Sonic has learned from us! What we’ve gained from him!” she continued to wham him with sensational fury and continual endurance, a steady show of power that only ever increased with each new powerful hit of her Piko Piko Hammer.

Amy’s swings became more and more rapid, but still carried so much weight in every blow.

Metal Sonic’s systems began to glitch out on his eye-lights, unable to process the progression of how far the battle had turned.

“Maybe it’s all Eggman’s fault... or maybe you truly just want to watch the whole world burn... but either way... There can only be one Sonic that lasts in my heart!” She brought the hammer over her head, and a crack of thunder burst from behind her, traveling like a spiderweb through the dark sky.

But it was that moment that Amy hesitated, breathing hard as her compassionate heart got the better of her.

Her eyes loosened from their fierce anger and narrowed bridge, realizing how awful she must appear.

She saw Metal Sonic struggling to get up, one of his eyes dented by her strikes and the other glaring up at her.

“...I’m no monster...” She stepped away, breathing out as the mental image of herself appeared in her mind. “I’m no villain... I’m just a hedgehog... who can’t stand to see people suffer around her...”

Within Metal Sonic’s programming, the image of Rosy the Rascal was being infiltrated, as Metal Sonic began to override his own logic and erase her image from his memory core... replacing it with that terrifyingly powerful stance Amy held before... and blurred out the threat level... having it massively bolded and blaring red: MAJOR THREAT.

“I’m not you.” she hissed out, seeing him shoot himself into the air, and charge his stomach-engine with a growing energy ball...

She remembered... pleading to the Chaos Emeralds to let her go super, and having her wished denied.

Even though she remembered... she held out her hand... “Chaos...”

Metal Sonic threw his arms back, bringing the the charge to the height of its power!

“...Please...” she squinted her eyes in the brightness of his blast that she knew she wouldn’t be able to escape or dodge from.

The Master Emerald flared to life, spiraling out from around it one of the Chaos Emeralds, a orange light spinning with it as it trailed a beautiful glow of chaos energy.

Tikal’s ghostly image appeared behind the flying emerald, moving like a comet towards her open hand to the side. “Amy..!” her voice cried out to her.

As the beam of Metal Sonic’s energy cascaded down like a vigorous wall of molten heat... The Chaos Emerald zipped to Amy’s side, and she caught it.

“CONTROL!!!!” Amy held up the emerald as time itself broke the fabric of space and reality and pushed her through its limits to appear twisting behind Metal Sonic.

He tried to turn around to her, but it was too late.

With one arm, her quills lingering up in the intensity of the moment, Amy crashed her hammer into his back, crunching the circuitry and snapping the tense wires out of place. Electricity burst from his being as he came smacking down into the earth below... Into the very crater of a grave he created for himself...

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Amy gave her everything to that attack, the Chaos Emerald’s glow ceased and she began to fall through the air.

“Ha...ha... oh no!” She looked around her, realizing taking out Metal Sonic was now the least of her worries. She had been transported thousands of feet into the air, and now... she was plummeting down at accelerated speeds.

“Sonic...” her eyes watered, before she clutched the Chaos Emerald again, “Chaos control!” her trembling hands from the wind pressure exposed its gloss form only to reveal it was still dull of any influence from her voice command... Her eyes widened, “This can’t be...” she squinted her eyes against the wind force again, “CHAAOOSSS!!! Control!” she tried again, turning it up towards the sky but nothing...

“S...S...Soooniiiccc!!!” she released the emerald from her hand, bundling her fists up to her chest and crying out her hero’s name...

In her most dire moment... a shimmer sparked like a star igniting far from her soul... but a sonic boom pulsed through the air as a figure--launched like a missile--swooped in an arch to grab her before she met her end.

She felt the lapping wind as the figure began to come to a screeching halt, trying to slow its momentum down before she felt herself blackout a moment.

When her limp body came too, she blinked to see a glowing figure above her. “-y...Amy..! Amy!”

Her eyes adjusted... and the bright being before her... was her Sonic.

“Amy, are you alright?” He was leaning over her, his two hands holding him up above her resting body, laying her down by the side of the cold mountain...

“Where’s Metal Sonic..?” He seemed concerned, and a gentle smile lifted to her face as her eyes glistened from his warm light.

“Sonic... I... I did it.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was soft and gentle, something he wasn’t used to.

To show this, he leaned back a moment, his eyes widening in surprise by her sudden expression.

She was so full of gratitude, so content in helping her friends from the threat of Metal Sonic...

His smoking head rest deactivated, after having his form split apart and tumble loose down the rocky cliffs of the mountain’s proud face.

She was proud... but would he be?

“I beat him...” she gave a more fuller grin to her already exhausted and drained complexion. “Now... you’re the only Sonic...”

The only one that mattered.

Sonic’s image was blurring again.

“W-wait...” she wanted it to stay... but in that blurr, it focused only briefly to a proud smile on Sonic’s face, a happy expression.

“Thank you...” He began, as she blinked her eyes softly again, the world darkening once more. “Amy...”

[angelliev]

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Seventeen - Home Sweet Home

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: Aria is given the opportunity to meet her real dad. Aria and JJ are both in for a pleasant surprise.

Warnings: Smut. Typos probably? 

A/N: I don’t have that much to say. I just want to thank you everyone for liking, following, and especially reblogging. Your support means so much to me when you guys share this with others, because it truly helps. That will be all, I hope you guys enjoy, and stay safe my lovies. ;) (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own the show or any of theses characters.) 

Lover Boy Series Masterlist 

3 Months

Every bone in my body is shaking as of now. My feet would not stop tapping away as JJ drove the car. He takes notice of my nervous state. “Babe, you’re shaking so hard, the baby’s rocking.” I just chuckle nervously. “What’s up babygirl?” He asked placing a hand on my bare thigh, the warm gesture erupts butterflies in my stomach. 

“Nothing, I’m just really nervous to meet him.” I confess, referring to Jamie, my real father. Today is the day I get to meet him for the first time. We’re having dinner with him and my mom. “C’mon babe, you have nothing to worry about. He’s going to love you. He already does.” JJ attempts to reassure me. “But what if he’s disappointed in me about the pregnancy. He’s going to be a grandfather in six months, that’s got to come as a shock to him.” Despite being fully aware of who my biological father is and having many opportunities to meet him, I always kept avoiding, out of fear that he’d already disown me. 

“Aria, he is not Claude. Everyone in the cut knows he’s a nice guy. He’s tranquilo. Most easy going guy I’ve ever met. Plus, you're a spectacular woman. He’d be crazy not to love you. I know I do.” JJ gives me one of his infamous winks, making me blush. It feels just like yesterday, when we met and he was already making me weak in the knees with his flirtatious compliments. He really knows how to make a girl’s heart throb. 

I attempt to reach back and grab my purse from the backseat, but JJ stops me from doing so. “Whoa whoa. Hold your horses babygirl. I’ll get it for you.” He reaches back himself once we hit a red light. I just roll my eyes at him. “I’m pregnant. Not crippled.” JJ ignores my comment. “Exactly, which means you shouldn't be doing hard work.” My eyes roll once again as I retrieve my breath mints. I take one more in my hand, before leaning over to JJ. My fingertips skim over his warm lips, which he gladly opens up for the minty goodness, his moist tongue skims my nails. 

I giggle and peck his lips. He smiles and hums. “God, I wish we were behind closed doors. The things I’d do to you would leave you in a moaning mess.” His hot breath fanned my face. “Don’t worry lover boy, I’m gonna take good care of you.” I say seductively, my hand cups his growing bulge. He nearly melted under my forbidden touch. “Baby, you don’t have too.” It doesn't stop me from unzipping his shorts and pull down his boxers. “I want to. You're so stressed lately, with all your work, let me help you relax.” 

I take him in my hand, causing him to release a relieved sigh. All of his pent up tension and stress seemed to melt away when I wrapped my luscious lips around his tip. The taste of his pre cum invaded my taste buds immediately. His left hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, and the other one explored my brown locks, as I took him in deeper. My pink flushed cheeks began to turn a dark crimson red. The pool of wetness began to grow in silky velvet folds. I couldn't stop my hands from slipping under my skirt and caress the sensitive bud. JJ’s breaths began to falter, his moans grew louder, and his hips bucked erratically. Tears began to escape my glossy eyes as he hit the back of my throat.

“Babe, I’m so close. I'm gonna,” But before he could finish, his sweet hot cum filled my mouth. I let it run down my throat and my proudly when my lips leave his shaft. I look up to see JJ out of breath and his cheeks dusted pink. “All better?” I asked. “Yeah. Whoa.” He huffed glancing over at me. “You didn’t cum.” He stated, voice filled with guilt. “It’s okay, really. You needed it. You're so stressed these days. I can tell you needed some kind of release.” I reassured him. He’s been working so hard lately with overtime, desperately trying to make more money. He hasn’t spent a single penny on weed, and he just ran out, making him super antsy. 

“Let me return the favor babygirl.” He insisted, before slipping his expert hand under my skirt, replacing mine. He wastes no time to work on my sensitive bud and luscious folds. I loved the way his hands always brought me satisfaction and warmth. His fingers curling inside me found my hidden spot, making bite my lip and mewl. I can practically feel myself flirting with the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into the pit of ecstasy. “JJ, I think I’m gonna cum.” I say through breathy moans. “Go ahead baby, let it go.” His words were all the motivation I needed to fall off the edge, diving into the pit of ecstasy and let the euphoria crash over me. 

JJ removes his glistening fingers that shined in the light, before taking them in his mouth, licking them clean and enjoying the taste of me. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of your sweetness when we get home.” I giggle while fixing my appearance before pulling into the driveway of the small and cute home. That’s when my nerves settled in again. 

“You’ve got this baby. I’ll be right by your side the whole time. Don’t worry.” He says before pulling me into a comforting kiss, the lingering taste of myself still lingered on his lips. “Thank you JJ. You’re my biggest cheerleader. I love you. You know that right?” My hands caressed his cheek. “I know. You make that well known when you're moaning under me.” He says making me laugh. “Alright, settle down lover boy, before it gets too steamy in here.” I exit the car not wanting to tempt myself, as I fight the urge to pounce on him again.

It felt like an eternity standing on the porch, waiting for someone to answer the door. The anticipation was piratically killing me. My life was in slow motion as the door creeped open, finally revealing the face of the man I never knew. My had been breath caught in my throat when I saw him. It was like looking in a mirror, except it was a male. All these years I resembled someone else. How did I not see this before. 

“You must be Aria.” Jamie smiled cheek to cheek as he held out his hand for me to shake, which I gladly accepted. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The two of us stepped into the warm and welcoming home. “Pleasure is all mine, and JJ you must be the boyfriend.” Jamie pulls him into a hug. “How’s life treating you Wilson? Did you get the boat fixed?” JJ asked curiously. It was nice to know that the two already knew each other and were quite friendly. I couldn't help but feel slightly jealous at the fact that JJ knew my father more than me. 

“Hey kids. You two are just in time. Dinner is ready.” My mom entered the room, apron still on. “JJ, could you please help me set the table?” Elaine asked sweetly. “Of course.” The two enter the dining room, leaving Jamie and I alone. He was the first to speak. 

“I’m really happy that you agreed to come. I’ve been waiting for yours to finally meet you and get to know you.” He confessed, tears had threatened to spill, which he unfortunately noticed. “I’m sorry if I was moving too fast or startled you with this.” He apologized. “No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. This is all just really new to me. My life has been spiraling out of control lately.” I chuckle.

“How’s the baby?” His question made my eyes widen in surprise. “The baby is doing great. Um, I wasn’t aware you knew.” “I tried seeing you at the hospital, but clearly I arrived at a bad time. Your mother told me about the baby.” He explained. “What do you think about it?” I asked nervously. “At first I was in shock. Then I was upset,” The words made sick for a moment. “When I learned that Claude had kicked you out.” This brought me relief. “I couldn’t believe he was so cruel towards you. You didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve you either.” Memories of Claude had stormed my brain. He hasn't even bothered to call and ask if I was okay. Years of him raising me had been thrown out the window.

“I’m so sorry that I wasn't there for you growing up, and I want to make it up to you for all those years, if you would let me.” His eyes were filled with desperation. “Of course. I want to make this work, and thank you.” “For what?” He asked confused. “For accepting me.” He just smiles warmly. “Always. Now let's go eat. Your mom has whipped up something good.” 

I genuinely enjoyed getting to know Jamie over dinner. He was filled with love, warmth and humor. I could see why people liked him so much. He was an amazing storyteller, everyone at the table paid attention, full of excitement. He never failed to make me laugh.

“So how did you two meet?” Elaine motioned between Jamie and JJ. The two share a laugh. “JJ was riding his bike one day, trying to outrun some kids.” Typical JJ. “He used a ramp to jump over a fence, losing the kids. He was too busy teasing the kids, he didn't see the parked firetruck in front of him, causing him to crash into it and broke his nose.” Laughter had erupted at the table. 

“I think he was six at the time. We took him to hospital, he got to ride in the fire-truck that day. You should've seen the smile on his face. It was adorable even with all the blood dripping from his nose.” JJ smiled at the memory. “What have you been up to these days son?” Asked Jamie. “Working mostly. I’m just trying to save up money for the baby. I’m working multiple jobs now.” 

“Have you ever given any thought to becoming a firefighter?” This immediately caught my attention and JJ’s. “Would that even be possible for me?” He asked hesitant. “Yeah, you have a high school diploma. I would highly recommend you’d get associates degree program in fire science, and EMT classes. Then there’s the fire academy.” Jamie explained.

“I can’t afford to go to college. I don’t think I’d be accepted by any.” He said. “There’s always community college. It’s a lot cheaper too. I could pay for your tuition with no problem.” My mom offered. “I couldn't ask you to do that. You’ve already done so much.” JJ attempted to decline her offer. “Please, it's the least I can do. I care about you too JJ, and I want the best for you, just like my daughter. You’re family now.” I could see the shock in JJ’s eyes when he heard what she said. His heart almost melted right there. 

“I’ll need some time to think about it. Thank you.” This seemed to please my mom. JJ and I help gather the plates and silverware, clearing the table and washed the dishes. When JJ and I walked back out to the dining room, we saw my mom and Jamie putting on their coats. “Where are you guys going?” I asked curiously. 

“We have a surprise for you two. Come on.” Jamie answered and grabbed his keys. JJ and I shared a confused look, but followed them outside. I give JJ a suspicious look as he follows behind their car, going who knows where. “Are you in on this?” I raise an eyebrow. “I'm just as clueless as you are babe. I’m looking forward to see what the surprise is.” He answers excitedly. “That makes two of us.” 

We finally reach our destination, still in the cut, we pull into the driveway of this beautiful baby blue two story home. There was a small, yet cute front yard and trees surrounding the land, giving the home some privacy. We exit the car and meet up with Elaine and Jamie who were wait on the front porch. “Mom, you bought a new house for yourself?” I asked admiring the interior, which was painted a nice creme color. 

“Nope. I just moved in with Jamie.” She answered with a gleaming smile. “So, whose house is it?” I asked confused. “It’s your guy’s” She tossed the keys into the air, which JJ caught flawlessly. Words couldn't even express the exhilaration coursing through our bodies. The two of us stand there in surprise. “Are you serious right now?” I asked, not believing any of this was true. I have to be dreaming right now. 

“100%. It’s all yours. It’s a four bedroom and three bathroom home. If you go outback, you’ll see that you're right next to the marsh. This house isn’t too far from John B’s.” My mom explained. “Mom, I don’t know what to say. This is amazing! Oh my gosh! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” I exclaim cheerfully, hugging her. JJ was still in pure shock. 

“You’re welcome love. Jamie and I wanted you guys to have a nice home for you and the baby somewhere on the cut, close to us and your friends.” It took everything in me not to burst out in tears right there. “C’mon, we want to give you a tour of the house.” She nudged me. 

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a second. I want have a word with Jamie.” I said. “Of course. JJ?” The two left the room and gave us some space. “What’s up kiddo?” Asked Jamie. I decided to answer with a tight warm hug instead of words. His body had stiffened out of surprise, before relaxing and returning the hug. The hug felt right and comforting. Nothing like the cold hugs that rarely gotten from Claude growing up. This felt right. These were the fatherly arms that were supposed to hold and comfort me. A smile and happy tears decorate my face. 

“Thank you Dad.” 

[elmidol]

Error: Program Not Found - Nine

Summary:  You are in charge of programming the droids that work most closely with both General Hux and Kylo Ren. Unbeknownst to you, each of these two men have it in their heads that your relationship extends beyond the workplace. This causes things to escalate quickly when your two apparently secret boyfriends compare notes on their respective partner who is far too similar for their liking.

Read on AO3 

“What a grand 

and beautiful force 

the immense 

and wildly underappreciated 

power of 

human touch.” 

-Atticus

 Nine: Contact

 The guilt that you felt was not solely due to the misunderstanding that had occurred; that is to say, you held Kylo Ren responsible for misconstruing whatever situation he had that had led him to believe that you were dating. You had not wanted to fluster or embarrass him though. The man did not socialize as many others did. Given that a misunderstanding had occurred, you felt that you should have been more prepared that the ‘blame’ would fall on you. Being ill-prepared during the conversation and thus the result of him stomping away had left you wishing that you had rehearsed mentally prior to his arrival. Now you would have to approach him yet again, although first you wanted to work through more of specific past encounters so that you would be more mindful of your own behavior.

 For the time being, you read a chapter of the text on droid engineering and finished the basic work on the project for Captain Phasma’s stormtroopers. You would have to make several alterations to the version that you would submit for the Knights of Ren. The plan that you had made was to do this an hour before bed, directly before your self-appointed wind-down period. TeeArr would first show you the observations that he had recorded, and you wanted a break before that occurred. The MSE series droid remained damaged, both with the dent from Kylo Ren’s boot and with whatever error was causing it to crash into people and things. All the same, you had decided to power it back on and had it follow you in the direction of your quarters. Already it had hit into your leg twice. The first bump had been light, barely noticeable. The second was going to bruise and had resulted in you swearing. It had also knocked you over, and a nearby officer had paused in his work to help you back to your feet.

 All you wanted to do was bury your face in a pillow, scream, maybe cry, and take a nap. You were doubtful that you would fall asleep even if you tried. Plus it was likely to mess with your sleep schedule, which was already altered due to the stress of what had occurred. Paranoia that more First Order personnel would connect the gossip to you was not helping.

 You stepped out of the way of the mouse droid, which would have hit your ankle, and scowled at it. This was the first time that you could say you understood why someone--in this case, Kylo Ren--would kick a droid. The difference was that you would not. Awareness that faulty programming was not the droid’s fault prevented you from taking out any of your frustrations on it for the damage it had already done to your body. You tracked its movements. The droid swerved towards the left, crashing into a wall, and righted itself. Better the wall than another person. Such as the technician that had stopped walking and watched the MSE droid with visible confusion. She asked if you wanted her to take care of the issue, to which you responded by shaking your head and mouthing a no. You were not in a talkative mood. The headache that had threatened you earlier was returning with greater force.

 The next technician to cross the droid’s path was not so lucky. Rounding a corner, they did not realize that the droid would swerve towards them. You watched with a pained expression as the man pitched forward and rolled into a sloppy somersault that ended with him on his back. The droid continued on, heading in the direction of your quarters. All witnesses were quick to shuffle out of its path. You walked over to the downed technician and offered your hand. He brushed it away, albeit gently and politely, and hoisted himself up. He swayed in place for a moment, his hand going to the back of his head, which had bumped the ground. There was no blood that you or he could see. There would, however, be an egg.

 “A trip to medbay would be best. Would you like me to escort you?” There was no way that you were not going to offer. The droid would enter your quarters and power down. Or else someone would catch it. Kriff, you thought, you hoped that it did not trip anyone else. This was an offer that he did not turn down, although he had hesitated in accepting. You attributed this up to him being embarrassed. Not that there was any need for him to be. He had done nothing wrong.

 The two of you walked to medbay with no incident aside from you having to help steer him towards a wall to steady himself. You winced whenever this occurred. The likelihood of a concussion existed, and a new sense of guilt nagged at you. Perhaps you should have repaired the droid before leaving the room. Carrying it had been out of the question. It was heavier, a testament to Kylo Ren’s strength. A physician was available immediately. This left you free to take your leave, which you promptly did and at last made it to your quarters where the culprit of the injury was waiting for you in its powered down state.

 Would you make it through the work week without killing anyone? That was left to be seen.

 You kicked off your shoes, used the side of your foot to nudge them out of the way, and squatted in front of the droid. It was quite the troublemaker. You sent a final order to TeeArr, this one for him to bring some medication for your headache on his way, and then started to work on the mouse droid. It ate up roughly a quarter of an hour, however you located the issue. One wrong character was all it took in its programming to have its sensors off. It had two blindspots that should not have existed since that one character rendered the entire section unusable. The droid’s system therefore ignored it completely. You wrapped up your work two minutes after TeeArr arrived. The protocol droid stood to your right and watched you.

 Sniffing, you looked up at TeeArr to discover that along with the medication he had brought you a cup of tea that was still steaming. “Is this one actually mine this time?” you asked teasingly.

 “Yes,” TeeArr said without a trace of hurt. “It is not tarine tea either.” You could feel the smile breaking out across your face. General Hux would not have found this amusing, would have considered it to be backtalk. As for Kylo Ren, it would have varied depending on his mood. As far as why you were thinking about them, you did know but strongly wished you that had not.

 You accepted the two items from TeeArr, tossed the pills into your mouth, and took a drink of the tea. Winced as it burned your tongue, though it was not hot enough to leave lingering damage. You moved over to your bed, where you sat whilst instructing TeeArr to upload the recordings he had taken to your holopad. He connected with the unit without argument. This had not been the first time that he had carried out such a task. He proved time and again that he was reliable no matter how sassy he could be. You began to play the recording after TeeArr disconnected. Wincing, you lowered the volume. The medicine would not kick in for another five to fifteen minutes, and even then you did not know just how effective it would prove to be.

 “They speak with the stormtroopers more than the officers,” TeeArr commented. You blinked prior to knitting your eyebrows towards one another. With a quick keystroke you rewound the recording and started the section again. Your droid had not been wrong. It was an observation that you were ashamed you had not made yourself without TeeArr’s prompting. You crossed your arms and chewed on your bottom lip. What should you do with such information?

 This was a problem with being a contracted worker rather than having enlisted in the First Order itself. Your views did not always align with theirs and sometimes there was nothing that you could do. Stormtroopers were not ranked as being as important as officers despite the fact that it was stormtroopers that were on the frontlines. This was one of the reasons that you wanted to properly propose the new droids so that they were approved. Like you, the stormtroopers would be allowed to have contact with a droid that genuinely cared for them. It would learn about them. Part of it would be programming, yes, however clearly it would be a lot more nurturing than the humans that the stormtroopers encountered.

 You tilted back your head and heaved out a sigh. The medical droids paid equal attention to the stormtroopers and officers on the recordings. It was only the humans that harbored any biases. This was one reason that you often found yourself enjoying droid company more than that of your organic peers. You remembered Kylo Ren commenting something similar along those lines one of the times that you had been assigned to work on a project for the Knights of Ren. It was the first and one of the only times that you had felt cheeky in his presence while asking if he found you so disagreeable while offering a grin.

 A grin that might have been flirtatious if someone did not know you very well. You felt your stomach execute a sort of flip as you were launched into a string of memories. You replayed in your head how your interactions with Kylo Ren had indeed changed following that moment. The increased sense of ease you would feel despite his sour moods would have potentially added to the misconception that you had been flirting with him. All you had been attempting to do had been to break the ice, so to speak, with a man that you would be working alongside on several droid projects given that he utilized them in training and for his Knights.

 Racing to meet with Kylo Ren for confirmation of your suspicions would worsen things for the both of you. Furthermore you wanted to run through the recording and make your first draft of notes for the project based on your observations. Already the bias stood out, although you would have to take care for how you presented that. If you could word things in a way that did not specify where the bias lay, it might not be negative. There was a chance that, unless someone dissected every portion, they would believe that you were speaking of bias based on mood or the relationships between officer and physician as opposed to the reality of the situation. This was a game of politics in your line of work that occasionally brought you stress, however you had grown accustomed to its existence and how to maneuver through such situations.

 “Did you run into any issues today, TeeArr?” you asked as you restarted a portion of the recording to elaborate on behavior from the medical droid in your notes. Its attitude was very clinical, which was fine in medbay yet from a physical therapy standpoint might well be off putting or even discouraging. Coddling the officers and stormtroopers would not be something that the First Order would be interested in, so you would find a balance where that was concerned. By contrast, the less personable mannerisms might well do for the anti-procrastination droids.

 TeeArr turned his head to consider you. “No. Why did you bring the droid to your quarters?” Your attention flicked briefly to the mouse droid then returned to your work. Droids were known to display behavior equivalent to the human emotion of jealousy. TeeArr had not been one to do so to the extent that it was ever a concern. In the past you dealt with other droids that had damaged the object of their envy. “Was it because of your headache?”

 Ah. You appreciated the concern that TeeArr displayed for you. You looked directly at him, offering him your full attention as you would an organic. “That was part of it. I needed a change of scenery.” You brought the cup of tea to your mouth to take a sip of it. Paused as the warm liquid rolled over your tongue then you took a larger gulp of the beverage. The medication was working so that your headache had lessened into a dull throb that periodically presented itself when you started to stress. You set your hands on your shoulders and dug your fingers into the muscles, massaging out some knots that you felt pop under your ministrations.

 Later you would need to observe the mouse droid after powering it back on in order to ensure that you had properly fixed the error. You were almost certain that you had. It was better to be safe than sorry, and already an officer had been sent to medbay so you were following this more firmly. You considered the dent on the droid. That was only cosmetic as far as you could tell, but it would need repairing regardless. Once you were assured that the droid functioned properly, you would pass it on to maintenance to buffer out the dent.

 On that note, you found yourself sighing as the urge to speak with the one responsible for the dent again presented itself. It would be only too easy for you to shove the issue aside. Easy except for the headache, that dull throbbing worsening with each passing second. With a quick order for TeeArr to remain in your quarters, you rose from the bed and tugged your shoes on. There were two locations that you would check. If you failed to find him in either of those, you would return to your quarters, bury your face in your pillow, and scream.

 One location that you would not check no matter how much you wished to speak with him was Kylo Ren’s quarters. That would invite another layer to the awkwardness that presently existed between the two of you. It was too intimate. The first spot that you headed for was one of the viewports that you had learned in your first month of working for the First Order that Kylo Ren sometimes stood by. He contemplated space, perhaps, or else found the area quiet given its low traffic. Upon arriving there, you noticed that it was just as empty as ever. The other thing to catch your eye was the mouse droid shaped dent on one of the trash bins. Now you knew where he had been earlier when the droid had fetched him. You allowed yourself to hope that this meant he would be in the other location you were inclined to search.

 His ability to wield the Force separated Kylo Ren’s training needs from the officers and stormtroopers of the First Order. Though each individual could benefit from meditation, the form that Kylo Ren often utilized required a room that was built to withstand that power. It was an expense that Supreme Leader Snoke had been more than willing to cover. As for General Hux’s view on the matter, you did not know for certain however you strongly believed that he was less than thrilled. Which made perfect sense to you given the fact that Kylo Ren had destroyed and damaged First Order property during fits of rage. It was something that you did not look fondly upon either, namely after he had damaged TeeArr.

 The hallways had an increased level of traffic between the two areas that thinned when you neared one or the other. Where this was common for the section that you had just left, it generally occurred in the second only when Kylo Ren was utilizing the room. You smiled to yourself at your luck and moved closer. There was an elliptical shaped window that stretched roughly half a meter in length. The lights were off in the room despite the indication on the control panel by the door showing that it was occupied. To interrupt the man would be a risk. You paused by the window not far from the door and squinted in an attempt to locate his silhouette.

 Your leg muscles jumped at the sound of the door sliding open. You looked at it, found that Kylo Ren was not walking out, and determined that he had noticed you standing there. This was an invitation that you did feel comfortable accepting, albeit with the addition of you turning on the lights when you entered. The sigh that met your ears was not distorted by a vocoder. You ran your gaze along his face. He had such distinct features, his lips and nose among them, however you had a tendency to look at his eyes or else, when his hair shifted out of the way, his ears. This time you looked at each of those for less than a second before dropping your attention to his bare torso. That was enough proof that his body was as solid as it looked even when he was dressed. The muscles bespoke of his training.

 “You aren’t here to stare at me.” His voice was calm, indifferent. There was a lack of humor that caused you pause. You had been walking closer to him, enough that the door had closed behind you, and now you wondered if you should not have remained in the doorway. Kylo Ren had failed to rise from his position on the floor, where he sat cross legged with his hands resting on his knees. He raked his eyes from your toes up to your face. “You can come closer.”

 You decided to again accept the offer he extended you. When you were within two feet of him, you lowered into a similar sitting position. “It was when I asked if you enjoyed my company. Right?” His lips parted for the briefest of seconds but if he said anything it would have been a single syllable and it was one that you did not hear. Kylo Ren closed his eyes. You waited, frowning a few seconds later when he did not reopen them. “While those in the First Order fear you, that fear will not stop them from talking about me because of this misunderstanding. This is not something I would ever have wanted.”

 Here he did reopen his eyes. You drank in their brown color, how fierce they were. Fierce but not in a cruel or angry way. There was an underlying softness that you interpreted as his understanding where you were coming from and accepting that you had not intentionally embarrassed him.

 “After realizing that others do not interact with you as I did...as I do, I mean, I should have approached you or reevaluated the impact that could have.” As you spoke, you realized that you meant the words. You could accept responsibility for your actions while acknowledging the fact that General Hux and Kylo Ren were guilty of their own parts.

 “Should I put on a shirt?” That, on the other hand, threw you for a loop. “You keep looking at my body.” You had not realized it. Now that he pointed it out, though, you were doing it more frequently. Sithspawn, you were frustrated with yourself and with that tendency organics had when a behavior was highlighted.

 His hands shifted off of his knees and wrapped around your upper arms by your shoulders. You did not shrink from his touch. Staying perfectly still, you lowered your eyelids to stare at those plump lips, which drew nearer and nearer to yours. Let your eyes close as his mouth met yours. You turned your head, returning the kiss. Felt the warmth of his skin on your fingers as you traced his stomach. The muscles were firm, not yielding so willingly under your touch. You kissed him again. Trailed one hand upwards over his chest and to the back of his neck. For all the stars in the sky, you could not say what had compelled you to kiss him back as you were. That did not eliminate the sense that this was right, that you were drawn to him in this moment. Having worked days on end with durasteel, with wires, with computer programming, there was something so raw and pure about the flesh you touched. You scooted up onto your knees in unison with him, your chest pressed against his.

 Kylo Ren ran a hand along your ass then squeezed the area, albeit not too harshly. You gave a light groan at the pleasure that shot through you. Broke away from the next kiss to breathe. His lips were on yours again, his tongue toying with yours.

 “Am I misunderstanding the situation?” he asked, teasing you, speaking against your mouth so that his warm breath crawled along your lips.

 You felt your eyelashes fluttering. Were aware that this close proximity had been mutual. “I don’t even understand the situation,” you admitted. Kylo Ren released a grunt of acknowledgement. His hand trailed up and down your neck, thumb caressing your skin. You slipped one of your hands between your face and his to press your fingers against your mouth. Kylo Ren kissed your knuckles. Those eyes were heated now. Not with anger; you did not know how you felt, were trying to wrap your head around what was happening. His hunger was palpable. “I have a headache.” He looked at your forehead as if he could see the pain and discomfort that was once more making itself known to you. His hold on you loosened.

 This was a part of Kylo Ren’s personality and character that you had discovered early on you respected. He was very aware of his body and its needs, and he appeared to respect those who worked to understand themselves as well. This included mentally as well as physically.

 You extricated yourself from him without causing any offense. Leaving the room was not a necessity. Kylo Ren returned to his previous sitting position, and you, after scooting backwards an extra foot, mirrored him. The phantom sensation of his lips on yours prompted you suck your lips into your mouth and run your tongue along them.

 Was it really so bad that he had misconstrued your behavior to the extent that he had when you yourself were now unsure of what you wanted? It was not quite such an easy question. Compounding that issue was the addition of General Hux doing the same. You conjured up his face in your mind’s eye. Recalled his tongue running along the rim of his thermos, and now thought of kissing him as you had kissed Kylo Ren. You turned your hand so that its side obscured your mouth from Kylo Ren’s view. He was watching you closely. Could he read your thoughts without extending his hand towards your head? Could you be projecting them? Or maybe, just maybe, everything was written on your face clear as day.

 “I have to get back to work,” you said, shooting up to your feet. This was too much for you, and you were not ashamed to admit that. “I…” You paused while thinking of how best to word things so as to not offend him. “I do not know if I am programmed for this.” Maybe not the best phrasing. You knew what you meant. Kylo Ren, on the other hand, furrowed his brow. You gestured towards him with both of your hands. “That was very nice, sir, however I have several projects that need my attention. A proposal to make as well.”

 “I propose that you come closer.” He tilted back his head a fraction, jutting his chin forward and making it very clear his meaning. Your eyes danced along those lips. You shuddered at the recent memory of how soft they were. Soft yet so firm, so in control. So demanding.

 You ran your hands along your shirt at your sides. Felt yourself clenching your jaw now that you had been placed in a position to reject him. This was not what you had wanted. It was serving as a means of adding more confusion and tension. The throbbing was becoming a pounding. Maker, your headache nearly disappeared on a conscious level when he had been kissing you. Kylo Ren stood. You eyed his chest and stomach. You had not wanted to look him in the eye. This was hardly an improvement. When he reached for you this time, it was again with both hands but he did not grab hold of your arms. He rested his hands on either side of your head and swiped his thumbs along your eyes, directly underneath them and following your sinuses outwards. His thumbs jumped, set again near the bridge of your nose, repeated the path. You closed your eyes and let him touch you.

 General Hux had offered you the lotion to help ease your discomfort from a situation he had placed you in. Kylo Ren was now doing the same. How could you reject him? It would be hypocritical, right? Not exactly. Not now that you were aware of their affections.

 Kylo Ren used his middle and ring fingers to rub circles on your temple. His hands traveled towards the back of your neck. You felt yourself relaxing more and more with his touch. The tension was ebbing even if it was not disappearing completely.

 “We aren’t programmed so differently, you and I,” he said as he pulled away. Your eyes snapped back open. Kylo Ren turned around, his back to you, and walked in the direction of where he had left his shirt and outer robes along with his helmet. He began to dress. It was as though he was there alone.

 That was a kindness rather than a cruelty. It allowed you to leave, but not before you offered him a very weak, croaked out, “Thank you.” You did not turn off the light as you exited the room and headed for your quarters.

[paramedictk-archive]

s6 theory

i know that skamfr is pretty much the epitome of lazy writing at this point so it’s kinda useless to come up with theories but at the same time it’s a good way to entertain myself. so. theory time and spoilers ahead

i want to talk about these pictures first and i just want to say in advance that both were posted by crew members on twitter and instagram respectively so pls don’t @ me about leaking stuff because that’s not the case lmao

anyway. those pictures are definitely from the same scene. it’s clear lola’s been spiraling for a while now but she will most probably hit rock bottom in ep5 in true skam fashion. this season has been pretty predictable for the most part so i guess we can expect another argument between lola and daphné/maya/papa lecomte which will make lola go out and get high again. i’m not even going to talk about the possibility of an OD here because i want to believe skamfr wouldn’t do that but at the same time i can totally see them going for that plot. either way, this party scene seems different, i think it will be a turning point in the season so it’s probably from ep5. that eliott picture was deleted from the trailer but i think it’s safe to say it’s from the same scene too. the bluish lighting, the room spinning... it looks like it’s shot from lola’s pov

ngl this whole thing looks a bit creepy but this is skamfr so i guess that doesn’t matter. eliott will probably play a bigger role in the second half of the season and it isn’t that hard to imagine why if you really think about it. things aren’t looking good for lola in ep4 already. she hates daphné and her dad again. she has no friends at school. maya will probably continue to ghost her this week and they might have some kind of drama in this ep or in ep5 (in, again, true skam fashion) and maya is her only connection to lamif too. so all in all she might find herself totally alone by the end of ep5 which could conveniently be a good time for eliott to reach out to her again

we know lola reached out to maya in ep4 when she wasn’t feeling well but if maya is ghosting her she’ll have to call someone else. she probably won’t try to call daphné but she does have one friend left and that’s benny. that’s how the benny reveal could happen if it’s indeed eliott. maybe she texts benny her location or shares a story/post on instagram from the party and eliott shows up all of a sudden at the bar. obviously there’s a chance eliott isn’t benny and he’s just there having fun with his uni friends or something. or maybe lola just straight up calls him since we saw them starting to bond in the video store clip and she might realize he’s the only person she can count on in that moment

when this photo was released a lot of us hoped this could be eliott pov but it might just be another eliott/lola scene. could be the day after that party. maybe eliott wants to make sure she gets home safely but lola doesn’t want to go back to daphné and her dad while she’s drunk/high and eliott is obviously not going to let her sleep at tour pleyel. so he might take her to his and lucas’ apartment and let her crash on their couch (but tbh part of me is still hoping this is an elu scene, maybe from a later ep when they talk about the whole lola mess. like a lundi 17h21 parallel)

i know eliott being benny could be a bit of a reach but i don’t want it to be daphné either, there’s enough drama between daphné and lola as it is. eliott being benny could also make their interactions seem slightly less creepy (but it will still be like 90% creepy to me). if eliott knows lola it would explain why he tries to not-so-subtly initiate conversations with her all the time to make sure she’s okay i guess. i posted my theory about eliott being benny on twitter a few weeks ago. if they want to draw parallels between lola and eliott it could be through MI and their different coping mechanisms. maybe eliott went through something similar, maybe he was in rehab once too and he signed up for some kind of virtual pen pal program to help other people

i would just like to point out how i came up with the concept of this virtual pen pal thing in april and then yesterday eliott posted about mary and max, a movie that’s basically about the main characters being pen pals. it’s also interesting how benny and lola had the exact same conversation at the beginning of that video store clip as lola and eliott did later when she walked in. obviously this could all be a red herring but i personally think them making daphné and benny message lola right after each other all the time is them trying to throw us off whereas eliott posting about mary and max is a clue, rather than a red herring

now, the cursed spoiler. we obviously don’t know the actual context yet besides that it’s for that school project eliott talked about in the video store clip and apparently it’s eliott going behind lucas’ back in some way. again. imagine how tired we are. i’ve been thinking about this and i could only come up with one possible version of this that wouldn’t make me dislike eliott and want to strangle the writers:

lola and eliott start hanging out more from ep6. they probably bond over movies, lola visits eliott at work a few times and he starts giving her movie recs. eliott could mention his project (which ISN’T polaris) to her again and ask her to help him, maybe because she seems interested in movies in general or maybe because he wants to distract her from her unhealthy coping mechanisms and that’s his way of helping her

david kept saying eliott is some kind of big brother figure this season so i guess lola could also talk to him about maya (especially if eliott is benny so she wouldn’t find it that hard to open up to him, considering they already kind of know each other). that would give eliott the perfect opportunity to play matchmaker. if maya is still ghosting lola, eliott could ask lamif to help him with the project too and that would bring maya and lola together again. lamif wouldn’t miss this chance to help urbex king otteli and besides, we can see max in the pic that was leaked by hippo so we do know they’ll be there

i’m not sure about the kiss but i really want to believe eliott will listen to lucas when he asks him not to do it. there’s at least another person standing behind max in the pic, holding the boom mic so that could be maya. maybe eliott writes the kiss out of the script but lola takes matters into her own hands and still goes for it because she wants to make maya jealous. i guess it could be their call your gf scene, skamfr seems to like elu/mayla parallels this season

this way the whole elu misunderstanding plot could still happen i guess and it wouldn’t be 100% eliott’s fault so yay... the kiss will definitely affect mayla too and they need time to resolve that so i guess we can expect this to happen in ep7 or ep8?

90% of this theory post could still work even if eliott isn’t benny or if it’s lola who wants to help eliott with the project and it’s her suggesting they get lamif involved. i guess it’s also a possibility that lola just starts hanging out more with eliott because she wants to run into maya at one of the urbex parties

so in conclusion i know this is probably not how things will go and i wasted my time writing this lmao but at least this version kinda makes sense for the characters i guess? i’m basically trying to salvage what i can at this point since they already messed up by even including the elu drama plot in the first place. anyway, s6 lost its real-time vibe so whatever happens i guess we can just pretend it’s not canon because it’s happening in a parallel universe and we can go back to rewatching s3 🤗

[lucidpantone]

S5 Moyo/Sander headcanon (a block workaround) pt 2.

Sander goes home and talks to his mom about what just happened with Moyo. Sander’s dad walks in with a packaged filled with art supplies and begins to go on about how art isn’t a steady career and not a reasonable job for “a man that needs to provide for a family”. Sander makes a statement about thank god it will just be him and Robbe to piss his dad off.  Dad isn’t homophobic per say he is just attach to the idea of the possibility that Sander could still end up with a girl even though Sander has explained he doesn’t see gender that way. They get into it and Sander’s dad basically says if you don’t like my rules then the door is open to move out (possible option to move Sander into Robbe’s old room).

Moyo oversleeps one school day because the night before he stayed up until his mom fell asleep and misses a final examine at school. The school calls his dad letting him know about it. They get into a huge fight and Moyo unleashes saying its his parents fault for ruining his future and for putting all this pressure on him. Moyo gets really angry at his parents and says something along the lines like “now I just get to have a shitty life with a shitty job just like you” and runs out the door. He has manage to piss the boerrs off and so he text’s Sander out of desperation and ends up at the flatshare crashing on the couch. 

[fastforward 3/4 eps to last ep]

The crying scene: Moyo is dreading university decisions coming out because though he got to reseat his missed examine he incurred a grade penalty. He is sure he won't get into a decent program but a decision email pops up in his inbox. Cut to him looking at a laptop screen no expression, cut to him flying down the stairs, cut to him running into his mother’s arms. Cut to him finally breaking down as he tells his mom he got into University and he finally lets boyhood wash over him. He just shrinks into his mother’s touch in that moment he is just a boy who needs his mom.

And this is all I got folks but themes for s5 would be MI, toxic masculinity, societal assumptions/stereotypes based on race, occupation and age. The constant career pressure placed on teens and young adults concerning their future. The overall arc being a modern day take on what is considered manhood? and how varying the journey is to get to manhood whether you are black/white, heterosexual/queer and how family/environment shapes your idea of what makes a good man.

*I would expect a Black belgium to write or consult in writing this season. Similar to Skamfr’s approach to using a trans advocate to help craft the character of Max*

[latent-thoughts]

The Pursuit of a Simple Life (Chapter 1 - PAC & Co.)

[Co-Authored with @emeraldrosequartz​]

Rating : 18+ (there be lots of citrus here).

Warning: None

Pairing: Loki/Original Female Character

Summary: Three years after returning to Earth with the other Asgardians following Ragnarok, Loki finds himself working for SHIELD, truly just trying to fight the boredom. While on an undercover mission, he unexpectedly begins to fall for his co-worker, Gemma, and she seems to feel the same way…about Dave, his alter ego while in disguise. Can Loki continue a relationship with her while keeping his true identity a secret? How many lies can the ‘God of lies’ spin to keep his pursuit of a simple life? 

[Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017); THOR IS A GOOD BRO AND TOTALLY NOT HOW HE WAS IN RAGNAROK, THNX; Infinity War Doesn’t Exist; Everyone lives]

_________________________________

IMPORTANT NOTES: Bold Text = Loki’s POV Normal Text = Gemma’s POV

_________________________________

Loki sat at his desk, going through a list of mundane tasks that he had to perform today. Most of them were meetings.

Those just bored him enough to make him contemplate another take-over of Midgard.

At least it would be an exciting endeavour!

But… Loki wasn’t the same as he was during the campaign of 2012. He had recovered and dealt with his demons, as the Midgardians would say. It also helped to not have a constant psychotic influence on his mind.

He still suffered from the consequences of his actions, though, in certain ways. But over all, he was faring well, if he’d say so.

After landing on Midgard, post destroying Asgard, Loki had tried to settle down with other Asgardians in New Asgard (still counted as part of Norway). But, that hadn’t really worked out for him.

Thor was their king now, and Loki just couldn’t stand being relegated to his brother’s shadow while he ruled. He had himself ruled Asgard for more than three years, and now, the demotion just rankled.

The issue was, Loki wanted to carve out a niche for himself, a space where he belonged, where he could not be held down by the stuffy Asgardian values.

Hence, one day, just weeks after landing on Midgard, he had shown up at Nicholas Fury’s office. The man had nearly ruptured a vein in his head upon seeing Loki there. That was fun.

But it had worked out in Loki’s favour in the end, for he had offered his services to SHIELD off his own volition, explaining - in great detail - how he felt responsible for the safety of Midgard.

Surprisingly, Thor had supported him in this endeavour when Fury had contacted him, entreating Fury to give Loki a chance, since he had recently rescued all of the Asgardians and been on ‘good behaviour’ ever since. He had a sneaking suspicion that Thor just wanted him off his back, since he wouldn’t stop nagging him about his kingly priorities and unwise administrative decisions.

For some reason, Fury hadn’t put up a lot of resistance, agreeing to take Loki in as an aid to SHIELD.

Hence, here he was… trying his best to do his job.

Well, not quite.

He was undercover, investigating PAC & Co., the company he was pretending to work for. This was, by far, his most boring assignment in the last three years of his association with SHIELD.

The only bright point seemed to be the pretty young woman who sat a few desks away, in just the right location for them to be able to look at each other from time to time.

Her name was Gemma…… he forgot her last name, for it was something of a tongue-twister. Ah, Spitznaegel.

She was easy on the eyes, and she wore those pretty short skirts to office, something an Asgardian lady would never do. Those lovely legs were a sight for sore eyes, a great distraction for a wandering mind.

“Dave, man, you got a meeting upstairs. The boss is already there,” someone called from behind him as he admired the woman, pulling him out of his reverie.

Ugh, he hated his undercover name.

“Yeah, going man.” He stood up and rushed off to the elevator, making sure to give Gemma a smooth smile as he went by her desk.

Gemma immediately slammed her hand over the doodle she had been working on when she realized that Dave might see it. She smiled back, hoping the blush she felt rising to her cheeks wasn’t too apparent. She was trying to be cute and flirty…but honestly she just hoped to God she didn’t come off as manic or overly excited or…anything that might make Dave think she was weird.

The doodle said “G+D”. It was really stupid and immature and something that a middle schooler would do…but this job was SO BORING. Any kind of creative outlet helped her get through her day. And daydreaming about the hunky new sales rep - with a British accent…. uuunnngggghhhh–seemed to be taking up more and more of her time.

After Dave passed by, she leaned back so she could look at his little cubicle - it was even smaller than hers, but he kept it impeccably tidy - everything had a home and it stayed there until he needed to use it, then it was immediately returned to its place. He wasn’t there often - as one of the Outside Sales Representatives, he was usually on the road, meeting with existing or potential clients who may have a need to buy any of the wide variety of cardboard packaging and janitorial supplies made by PAC & Co…

God, this job, this company, her life couldn’t be any more dull…

The one bright spot was this awkward, budding infatuation with her hot co-worker.

Suddenly, a little fire ignited in her gut. If I don’t like it, I have to do something about it… she thought. Before she could talk herself out of it, she ripped a clean sheet of paper off her notepad and wrote: “Drinks later? Call me - 231.555.6743. 💗 Gemma”

Then she immediately crumpled it up, threw it in the trash, and got another piece.

“Hey cutie, how about—”

Crumpled. In the trash. New sheet.

“Dave - would you like to get drinks with me sometime? Circle Yes or No.”

Gemma groaned and threw that one away too, then put her head down on her arms over her desk. What was the point? She’d just blow it anyway.

With a sigh, she went back to running the sales analytics.

An hour later, Loki came down to his floor, feeling quite stabby towards his so-called boss, Oliver. The man was an absolute twit, with no manners to speak of. He had literally wasted his last work hour in that stupid, meaningless meeting.

He’d never have spoken to him so high-handedly had he known Loki’s true identity.

And that was the rub–he had to keep his true identity completely hidden. Pretending to be someone else entirely.

He had done so in the past, and he knew he was quite good at it. But Norns, he had not done so for this long (well, except when he was playing Odin). It had already been more than three months in this stupid disguise of short golden hair, ocean blue eyes, and appropriately priced Midgardian clothes.

As he passed by Gemma’s desk, he saw her trying to furiously write something on her notepad. She was so preoccupied with it that she didn’t even look up.

Oh well…

Setting his office folder on the desk, he set about completing the rest of the tasks he had before calling it a day.

Once that was done, he remembered that he had to take out some prints for his sales meetings the next day. So he gave the printer the appropriate commands and then went off to fetch the prints from the corner cubicle dedicated to the enormous machine.

Most of the office was empty now, and it suited him just fine. He could use some solitude in this mad place.

At the end of the day, most people had already gone home. But…her program had crashed several times that day. IT didn’t respond to any of her calls or emails, and now she had to complete the analytics by hand before she could leave.

F. M. L….

Not to mention…she hadn’t really given up on writing that note to Dave. She was on her 32nd attempt when he walked by, leaving his meeting, and she hunched over trying desperately to look busy so he wouldn’t ask what she was doing…

Oh, you know, just trying to craft the perfectly written 10-word letter to see if you want to get drinks with me sometime. Please don’t talk to me, or I may vomit on your shoes from the nervous breakdown I’m about to have over it. Thank yooooou…

Her pencil tip snapped off. Of. Fucking. Course.

Gemma stood up and headed to the cubicle where the printer, the pencil sharpener, and all the other “shared” office supplies were. And she was pleasantly surprised/utterly horrified to see Dave waiting at the printer.

Don’t blow it don’t blow it don’t blow it…

She walked up and stuck her pencil in the sharpener without saying anything, and it loudly started grinding away at her pencil. Dave immediately jumped and looked at her, shocked by the sudden noise. Gemma just…smiled, feeling her face turn beet red.

“Uh-hum….sorryyyyy….”

Oh God, kill me now…

Loki was pleasantly surprised to see that the disturbance in the supply-cum-printer cubicle was being caused by none other than his lovely colleague, Gemma.

She sweetly apologized to him for the noise, turning a pretty shade of red as he kept looking at her. Really, she was quite a fair maiden, and also, seemed to possess all the qualities of a lady of good breeding.

“It’s not your fault,” he replied, leaning against the printer as it churned out the prints for him. “These contraptions are far too noisy for their good, no?”

Oh God oh God oh God… Gemma’s stomach was in knots as she tried not to look like she might pass out. Come on…it’s just a person…HE’s just a person…you talk to people all the time, just open your mouth and SAY SOMETHING.

“Yea…yup…they sure are…”

GOD DAMNIT FUCK SHIT FUCKITY FUCK FUCK WHY?????

“So…um…whatcha printing?”

If he hadn’t been looking right at her, she would have facepalmed. Ugh…smooth, Gemma…

He smiled at her question, adding a bit of flirtation to his tone as he replied.

“I think you know what I’m printing, Gemma.” He licked his lips and watched her keenly as she turned redder still.

This was infinitely amusing. The girl was indeed attracted to him. Well… to his persona.

He licked his lips…HE LICKED HIS LIPS!!! Does that mean something? Is he flirting with me? Or are his lips just dry? Does he need chapstick? Should I offer him chapstick? Shit, it’s in my purse…should I offer to GET him chapstick?! WHAT THE HELL, GEMMA, HE DOESN’T NEED CHAPSTICK! STOP BEING WEIRD!

“Um…reports, I would assume?” Gemma kept her cool as best as she could. The pencil sharpener kept grinding away noisily as the printer churned out page after page. She tried to turn her attention to…well, anything other than his clear, blue eyes or that gorgeous stubble on his chin or his chiseled pecks she couldn’t help but notice through his button-up shirt with sleeves rolled up over his forearms that looked like they’d been crafted by Hephaestus himself…

She ended up staring at a worn bit of the carpet on the floor, but she couldn’t help looking up at him every few seconds.

He was quite disappointed that she pried her eyes from him. Mayhap she needed more… encouragement to talk?

“Smart girl,” he praised, crossing his arms as she fidgeted with the edge of her blouse. “I have a meeting tomorrow, so these are for that. Pitches and estimates, mostly. So tell me, what are you up to?”

Her heart pounded in her throat and her chest tightened.

Don’t say writing you letters…don’t say writing you letters...

“Writing…my mom…letters…?”

Suddenly, her fingertips touched the front of the pencil sharpener, and with a jolt she pulled her writing utensil from the device –it had been reduced to nothing more than a short, sharp stub.

“Oh…geez…” She looked at him, embarrassed, and the sudden silence without the grinding noise made her discomfort even more palpable.

“I’m…sorry. I’m finishing up some analytics - my computer crashed and I lost all my work and it needs to get done before I can leave, so I’m trying to do it by hand but now…” She held up the little nub of pencil. “I should probably be using a mechanical one anyway…”

Just then, a familiar and disturbing sound came from the printer…paper jam.

They both looked at the malfunctioning machine, and Gemma sprang into action.

“Oh! I can fix that. Happens all the time. I’m usually the one that has to deal with it so I’ll just—“

She unlatched the panel to the paper feed, but as soon as she opened it, a huge cloud of black toner shot out and covered her brand new blue blouse.

She froze, embarrassment taking over, and she looked up at him with terrified brown eyes, split between laughing at herself and crying in shame, but really waiting to see how he reacted before she did ANYTHING else…

Loki nearly burst into laughter upon seeing her present condition.

“Oh dear,” he said, biting his lip as he pulled the girl away from the printer. “I think you ought to rush to the washroom to try and clean that up. Do you need help?”

He deliberately added that last question to see her reaction. He was enjoying this far too much, even though the printer had malfunctioned and his work was stalled.

She almost sighed when he touched her. Oh, that contact was already more than she’d ever hoped for…even though she had to get attacked by office equipment for it to happen.

And the way he said “washroom” instead of “bathroom”… so charming! She almost swooned.

Then she remembered…he asked if she needed help…

“Uh….ah, no. Shit, I MEAN…um. It’s ok. I have my workout shirt in my gym bag…I’ll just go…put that on…”

With another nervous giggle and an apologetic smile, she excused herself from him, racing back to her desk, pulling her (thankfully clean) gym shirt out of her bag, and then power-walking down the hallway to the ladies room while calling back to Dave, “Be right back!”

He waved at her as she disappeared down the hallway, smirking to himself.

The girl was so nervous around him, it was endearing.

While she was gone, he fixed the printer himself–without any mishaps–and headed for his desk to give the print command again.

On his way, though, he stopped at Gemma’s desk and observed the chaos spread across it. The girl was quite disorganised, but then again, most Midgardians were.

He also took notice of her near overflowing trashcan, which was full of crumpled papers. He was going to simply roll his eyes and move on, but something caught his attention there.

On one of the unfurling crumpled paper, he saw his persona’s name, written in her messy scrawl.

That piqued his interest, and hence, he pulled the paper out of the can and read its contents.

And then he smiled mischievously.

Poor little Gemma wanted to get drinks with him… hmmm…

This could get interesting…

Pocketing that piece of paper, he left her desk and went about completing his prints.

Gemma came back soon after, looking rather awkward in that gym shirt of hers. It had the Avengers logo on it, at which Loki couldn’t help but groan.

Damn those annoying, self righteous imbeciles. At least Fury was honest about his less than savoury methods.

“So,” he said as he approached her at her desk, carrying his sheaf of prints, “are you done with your task? I was thinking we could have dinner together before heading home. What do you say?”

She almost - almost - lost it. Dave. THE Dave. Was asking her. If SHE. Wanted to get dinner.

She was fairly certain she wasn’t able to contain just a bit of surprised and half-elated laugh she instinctively made, but she caught just enough of it not to embarrass herself further. Her gym shirt embarrassed her plenty, with the faded Avengers logo emblazoned across her chest. She was outing herself as a huge nerd…

“I-ah…that would be great, but…well, I need to finish those analytics, and I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion anymore…”

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! He just asked YOU out! It’s not a date…it’s just co-workers getting dinner, that’s it. Casual. Cool. Nothing to freak out about…SAY YES!

“You know what? That sounds great. Yes, yea, let’s get dinner, Dave.”

She thought she might die. Dinner with Dave. Dave dinner. Dinner dinner dinner…with Dave.

“Um…where were you thinking? Hopefully not the Ritz…” She laughed too hard. And snorted.

He chuckled at her attempt at jesting.

“Perhaps one day, when I’m not weighed down by the burdens of my present situation… we’d go to the Ritz,” he replied, speaking plain truth cloaked in disguise. “But for today, I was thinking about this new pizza place, opened only a few blocks away. Do you like pizza, Gemma?”

He let his voice drop lower, making it sound as though he was asking about some dark secret, not pizza.

“I looove…pizza…” she said, finding herself lost in his eyes and realizing far too late that she wasn’t talking about pizza either.

She couldn’t move or talk or think or do anything except watch him…now that he was so close to her…

Oh. My. God. He IS flirting with me!!!

She swallowed hard, feeling her palms getting sweaty. She played with the hem of her shirt and fidgeted just a little bit, really unsure about what to do now…

“Then let’s go,” he said, offering her his hand.

In the back of his mind, he scolded himself for leading the poor girl on. He was, after all, a temporary presence in her life. He shouldn’t be making any personal connections on his missions.

He had been so strict about following that rule till date. He shouldn’t falter now.

Well, it’d just be this one-off dinner. Nothing else.

Soon, he’d expose the company he was employed in for its true crimes, and then he’d be on his way… soon to be put on another mission.

Gemma would just be a distant memory. And hopefully for Gemma, he’d be the memory of a pleasant distraction.

________________________________

[NEXT CHAPTER]

[onigirisuna]

i’ll be your shelter

a contribution to @zutaramonth​, quarantine edition, day 18: comfort (with a hint of day 2: family). view my other work for zutara month (quarantine edition) here. 

this is a gentle reminder to hold your loved ones a little closer today.

cw: character death. au. long fic ahead; barely-there zutara + fire nation family. cues inspired by rent.

Katara found herself smiling at the sight of Zuko, Azula, and Kiyi enjoying their dinner with Ikem and Ursa. 

Eight years ago, their family was in shambles. When Zuko was crowned as Fire Lord, he only had Iroh by his side – the only family he had for many years. She remembers the pride that swelled in her heart when Zuko stood from the Fire Sages, presenting himself as the leader of the new generation of peace; but she also remembers the sadness that came crashing in right after, when Zuko had a distant, lonely look in his eye.

He has the whole world, Hakoda told her. Yet he is so alone.

I’m here, Katara told him, shifting her eyes away from the platform. He has me. He has Iroh, too; he has all of us.

Hakoda smiled. He does, he said in agreement. But his sister’s in an institution, his father’s locked up, and his mother is gone with the wind.

He doesn’t just carry our world, Katara. He carries theirs, too.

Katara shakes the memory as she picks up another rice ball and hands it to Kiyi. “Here you go,” she says, pretending to hide the sneaky rice ball from Ursa. Kiyi giggles at the motion, then taps Azula’s hand. “Lala,” the girl says. “May you pass me the fire flakes?”

Azula stiffens for a moment, not used to the little girl nor having someone tell her what to do. Through her discomfort, she forces a smile as she pushes her free hand to deposit the bottle of fire flakes onto the little fingers that are waiting for her.

Katara’s heart aches for her. She took it the worst, she thinks.

Seeing a little girl around her mother’s arms, a girl who seemed far more like Zuko than she ever will be, shattered Azula; she felt replaced, unloved, and more like a monster than she had ever felt her whole life. If Katara and Zuko hadn’t caught up to her before she reached Forgetful Valley, she would’ve been gone forever.

Azula! she remembers Zuko yelling. Father lied to us!

No! responded the broken girl. He didn’t lie, he just lost the war. He– he promised me– it’s your fault he lost, this is– this is all y-your fault– Father loved me–

He never promised anything, Azula, Zuko said. And he never loved anyone but himself.

Katara’s knuckles whiten for a moment as she tries to shove the memory down the depths of her mind. She forces herself back to the present, where she sits with her new family, and pushes herself to enjoy her meal; after all, it is rare for them to dine in complete attendance. Zuko was far too busy to eat, especially with Unity Campaign slowly coming into fruition; he often skipped meals and endured late nights, trying his best to keep the world together.

She looks around the table, taking in the sight of her husband smiling at her mother-in-law’s new anecdote about the latest play she saw on Ember Island. “This play was more of a tragedy, really,” Ursa said in between pieces of spiced prawns. “But it was so strange, because the songs sounded so happy. You wouldn’t be able to tell how tragic the story was until you read the program.”

“What’s it called?” Zuko asks from across the table just as he takes a bite off a spicy rice cake.

“Seasons of Love,” Ursa responds. Zuko makes a noise and a face at the title, saying, “The title sounds as corny as Love Amongst the Dragons.”

Azula nods in agreement. “I have to agree with Zuko on this one, mother. You have quite the penchant for sticky sweet titles.”

Ursa laughs. “If you’d watched the play with me, you would be surprised at how fantastically heartbreaking it is.” Ursa let out a rough cough as she finished speaking.

Zuko shoots her a worried look.

–

with a thousand sweet kisses

–

Ursa’s cough progressed into bouts of wheezing and gasping. Four months later, she became bedridden as she began to cough out blood and the disease began to take over her lungs. It’s called pneumonia, my lord, the family physician told Zuko. It’s a new disease that we have yet to find a cure for. We only know that the kind that Her Highness has is non-communicable.

Will she survive it? Zuko asked tentatively, even though he already knew the answer. All he needed to see was the grim look on the physician’s face.

Since then, Zuko resolved to keep his family as close as to their mother as he could. 

He would bring Kiyi to their mother every day, sharing as many stories as they could. He and Ikem would take turns watching over Ursa, with Ikem attending to her during the day and Zuko keeping her company at night; the little sleep that he had left before his mother’s disease was gone as he spent the rest of his nights tending to her.

Azula would visit her mother sporadically; when Zuko broke the news to her, Azula ran off and burned the chest that contained all of Ursa’s unsent letters. You’re leaving me again, like you did all those years ago. 

Despite Azula’s outbursts, Zuko still continued to gather all his strength to convince her to visit their mother. On the best of days, all three of them would spend time with her together; Kiyi would create flower crowns that she would place atop Azula’s and Ursa’s heads, while the two older women would have their nails painted. Zuko would discuss the latest theatrical productions with all three girls, gathering as much intel as he could from the the Ember Island Players. 

Every time her children would visit, Ursa made sure to leave a kiss on each of their foreheads before they left the room.

This routine continued over the course of eight months, until Ursa was too weak to lift her head off the pillow or raise her hand to have it painted. All of Ursa’s energy was reserved for the kisses she would leave on her children’s heads, making sure to kiss them with all of the force that she could to let them know that she was still alive; despite her failing health, she would repeat the same words to her children everyday – 

Know that Mother loves you so.

–

(i’ll cover you)

–

One night, Katara found Zuko crying in their bedroom; without saying a word, she sidled next to him and slowly brought his head to her shoulder as she let her own tears fall.

Between the Southern Restoration Movement and her duties as Fire Lady, Katara also spent her share of time with Ursa; she came in with a basin of water every day, attempting to expel the wretched virus that has taken over Ursa’s lungs. She also closely coordinated with the physician, desperately looking for a cure.

Katara, Ursa told her earlier that day. You are a kind and smart girl; I believe you would know it to be wise to stop healing.

But they don’t have a cure, yet, Ursa, Katara said desperately. This is our best shot.

Ursa smiled and held Katara’s trembling hand and said, I know.

It was Katara’s turn to hold Zuko’s hand as he trembled beside her; without looking at her, he gripped her hand tightly in return. Despite her own shaking and crying, she reached around Zuko and gathered him into a hug, letting him pour his grief into the folds of her robes. She tried to stroke his hair and rub circles on his back to calm him down, but with her own ceaseless crying, her motions comforted him to no avail.

–

five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

–

Ursa’s lungs failed a few days later, one year after her coughing began.

The week that follows is a blur; their friends begin to trickle in, one by one, expressing their condolences and comforting the grief-stricken Zuko, Kiyi, and Ikem. Everyone is too afraid to see Azula, so Katara takes it upon herself to check on the heartbroken girl; she finds Azula asleep in the midst of glass shards and broken mirrors, dried tears stained on her face. Katara leaves a towel and fresh fruit by her bedside table, then cleans the surrounding shards.

Katara leads the funeral preparations, letting Ikem and the three siblings process Ursa’s passing; her own heart, however, continues to break as she falls deeper into her coordination with the Fire Sages and the palace attendants – so on days when she can’t bring herself out of her bed, she lets Iroh take over the preparations.

Amidst the grief that has flooded the palace, Zuko finds himself sitting by the garden; as the attendants fly by him and guests continue to offer their condolences, Zuko blankly stares at the pond ahead. Their words and the flurry that fills the palace are nothing but white noise to him.

He stays in this trance for a couple of days until it is broken by Kiyi, who finds him in the garden and pulls him up to his feet. Taking her big brother by the hand, Kiyi brings him to a flowerbed at the back of the garden. “Mother always made sure to water these flowers, Zuzu,” the little girl said sadly. “I promised to water them for her when she got sick.”

Zuko feels Kiyi’s hands start to tremble, so he kneels to face her. Kiyi’s tears start flowing, her face contorted in grief; she shakes as Zuko pulls her into a hug. “I don’t know if I can water these flowers forever, Zuzu,” she says, her voice shaking. “I miss her. I want her to come back.”

Zuko starts to cry as he holds his sister tightly. “I miss her too, Kiyi. I miss her more than anything.”

At the other side of the garden wall, Azula quietly cries on a bed of wilted fire lilies. Mother’s favorite. 

–

five hundred twenty five thousand seasons of love

–

They couldn’t bear to watch their mother go up in flames.

When the Fire Sages conclude the burial rites and begin to light the pyre that carried Ursa’s body, Azula bolts out of the plaza.

Zuko immediately gets up to follow his sister and, before Ikem could stop her, Kiyi runs after her two older siblings. “Lala! Zuzu!” she yells through her tears. “Come back!”

Katara immediately runs after the little girl, telling Ikem to stay in case Azula bursts into flames. I've seen Azula break before, she tells him. I can handle her; I’ll keep Kiyi safe.

Katara catches up to the little girl just as she’s about to step into the garden; Katara stops her before she could get within the range of Azula’s impending fire. “Kiyi,” she says softly. “Let Zuzu talk to Lala first.”

“What about me, Katara?” she says, her breath shaking from the running and the emotional outburst between her and her siblings. Katara holds the girl and runs her fingers through her hair. “In a bit, little one,” she says. “Give them a little bit.”

–

“Azula,” Zuko says, taking a tentative step towards his sister. His body is tense, ready to move into a defensive stance. “Azula, look at me–”

“No!” Azula yells as she shoots a stream of blue fire towards him. Zuko expertly deflects it; when he hears Kiyi scream, he bends the remaining flames towards the sky. “Don’t touch me!” Azula cries.

“Lala!” he hears Kiyi cry from a distance. Azula covers her ears as she hears the younger girl.

“Mother always thought I was a monster,” Azula says through strained tears. “She never loved me the way she loved you and that little brat.”

“Azula, please–” Zuko starts, but Azula whirls around and grabs him by his shirt.

“Please what, Zuzu?!” she yells at her brother’s face. “What do you want from me? I’m a monster, remember?! A monster!”

A part of Zuko agrees; his father created a monster of his sister, drilling a sense of greed and evil into her as soon as she could talk. In the years since the war ended, however, he realized that all his sister longed for was love and acceptance from her family; it was a feeling Zuko knew all too well.

Her father manipulated her, and her only recollection of her mother was her departure; her only brother made it clear that he didn’t like her from the beginning, and when her mother resurfaced, she was replaced by a child that seemed to be far better than she ever could be. 

Azula was alone – and that was a feeling Zuko knew better than anything.

When she stares up into her brother’s matching golden irises, face contorted in agony and grief, Zuko gently wraps his sister in a hug. “You aren’t a monster, Azula,” he says softly. “Mother knew that; I know it, too.”

The sudden show of affection throws Azula off guard and makes her crumble against her big brother’s embrace; as her brother holds her, she lets out a torrent of tears.

Kiyi wiggles herself out of Katara’s grasp and runs to her siblings. The little girl’s tears haven’t stopped, and she’s shaking uncontrollably as Zuko opens his arm and welcomes her into his embrace. 

Zuko’s own tears begin to form, his cries mingling with those of his heartbroken sisters’; despite himself, he holds them tightly and presses their heads on the crooks of his neck. I’ll cover you.

[brooklyn-1918]

Mighty Oaks

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Peggy Carter, The Howling Commandos. Pretty much everyone from The First Avenger. 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (Stucky)

Summary: Steve has always been told “mighty oaks from little acorns grow.” He just never knew what that meant to him.

Warnings: Language, poor written smut, fluff and angst. 18+ only.

Word count: 4550

A/N: I wrote this for @thinkoutsidethebex​ ‘s writing challenge, which I had a hell of a lot of fun with. It’s also my first time that I have posted anything that I have written for one of my ships, so I don’t know how well this is going to blow over. 

Also, I got the proverb “mighty oaks from little acorns grow”.

Anywho, enjoy.

People say that mighty oaks from little acorns grow, right? Right now, Steve’s not convinced. Alone and cornered in an alley, the date is August 18, 1942, 4:30 in the afternoon. And Steve is already on his third fight today. 

In his defence, the first one was NOT his fault, and the second he didn’t fully mean to start. This one, though, Steve damn well meant it. He stands defiantly towards the bully, chin jutted out and fists balled at his sides. The red headed man laughs, stepping forward. Steve takes one step closer and the man laughs harder.

Steve can’t for the life of him figure out what’s so funny. Until he sees the man flex his fingers, and a small silver knife falls from his sleeve, and into his grip. 

“Shit.” Steve mutters, eyes darting around for some sort of escape. 

“You really think that your life is worth it? Protecting some girl?” The slimeball twirls the knife in his fingers, taunting, toying. Steve can’t find a way out. So he does the one thing he can think of. 

He dives to the left, crashing into a pile of trash bins, and grabs a lid. Popping up, he hurls the lid with all his might. Granted, not much might, but points to him for trying. It spins through the air, and crashes into the man’s nose with a sickening crunch, making him stumble backwards with his hand over his face. Steve hurtles a pile of trash, and races out of the alley. 

The guy shouts behind him, and Steve narrowly avoids the knife as it is hurled at him with scary accuracy. Steve doesn't stop running until he stumbles through his front door, on the verge of having an asthma attack. 

Bucky looks up from his spot on the couch, untying his shoes from the day’s work. The brunette stands abruptly, dropping one shoe off his lap, and shaking the other off his foot as he trots over to him. 

“Stevie? What happened?” He puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders, and wrenches him upright, looking at all the bruises and nicks on his face and hands. Steve gives him a grumpy look and refuses to talk. Bucky lets out an exasperated sigh, and leads him to sit on the sofa. 

He leaves to grab a washcloth, running it under the bathroom faucet. Taking it back in, he wipes away the street grime and the stray drops of blood, going gently around the tender skin of his black eye. 

“What happened?” Bucky tries again, placing two fingers under his chin and lifting his head. Steve frowns again, and begins to recount the stories of his three separate encounters. And by the time he is done, Bucky has sat on the floor in front of him, staring dumbly at the little blond. 

“You’re lucky I love you, you punk.” Bucky manages to say, shaking his head and dropping the now warm cloth next to him. He pushes up with a tired arm to lean forward, his lips connecting with Steve’s. 

Steve smiles as he wraps a hand around Bucky’s nape, pulling him closer. Bucky swings around to sit on the couch, moving Steve to sit on his lap, kiss never breaking. Bucky begins to work at the knot of Steve’s tie as Steve begins to grind down, growing harder by the second. 

Steve pops the buttons of Bucky’s dirty white henley, before moving onto the buttons of his own button down. Bucky trails his fingers down Steve’s back, then slides them around to firmly grip his boyfriend’s waist, grinding up against him. 

He jumped slightly as Steve’s cold fingers slid under his shirt, working it up and over his head, their mouths only breaking apart once he needed to pass the shirt over. He tosses it, not caring where it landed, and begins to leave a trail of kisses down Bucky’s jaw, to his neck, and finally, to his shoulder, sucking at his pulse point. Bucky groans as Steve runs his hands over his toned abs and chest, then quickly moves his hands to rid Steve of his own shirt, exposing his thin frame. Bucky moves his hands back to Steve’s hips, and stands abruptly, Steve hooking his feet behind Bucky. Moving slowly, he makes it to the bedroom, shutting the door and collapsing down on the old mattress.

_____

It's June of the next year, Steve has just been denied enlistment for the fifth time, and he still somehow has found himself cornered in another alley, this time for trying to get some asshole to stop shouting out during a picture. Just his luck. His eyes dart around, and he does it again. He grabs the lid of a trash bin, holding it in front of him like a shield. 

He isn’t fast enough when the guy swings his fist around to connect with his jaw, knocking him to the ground with a grunt. 

“Hey!” He hears.

“Pick on someone your own size.” Steve knows that voice. He pushes himself up and turns around just as the guy is running out of the alley. Steve can feel his stomach drop out as he lays eyes on his boyfriend, clad in a military uniform.

“How many times is this? And really, Jersey?” Bucky is busy straightening out the medical examination card, eyes down, unsure if he would be able to take the look he just KNOWS is on Steve’s face. Steve draws in a shaky breath, then speaks. 

“You got your orders.” He doesn't pose it as a question, but he keeps his voice low, masking the brokenness of it all. Bucky finally looks up, giving a mock salute.

“Sergeant James Barnes, 107th.” Bucky places his arm around Steve’s shoulders with a little laugh, then pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek. 

“Come on.” Bucky huffed a laugh, forcing a smile to his face. 

“Where we going?” Steve asked, trying to keep the solemn tone from his voice. It wasn’t working. Bucky bit his lip and gave a shake to the blond. 

“The future. I got us some cover tonight.” 

_____

The “date” went about as well as any cover date could have gone. To the outside world, it looked like Bucky was with the brunette, and Steve was with the blonde, not that it was two illegal pairings.

Of course, the Stark expo had not held Steve’s interest for very long. The floating car was OK, but when he had turned around, there was an enlistment sign, pointing him in the right direction. With a glance back over his shoulder, he decided that he could try his luck. He snuck off to go find it.

Bucky had caught up with him quickly, giving him a little push from behind and telling him that they were going to bring Dottie and Claire dancing. Steve told him he could go on without him, that he was going to try again. Bucky had gotten mad, getting into a little argument. 

Bucky hadn’t been able to stay mad for long, though. He shook his head and brought Steve in for a hug, wishing he could kiss him silly in public. That was the last time Bucky would see Steve for another three months, the last time he would see Steve at that size. 

Steve got into the supersoldier program that night. 

_____

Steve thinks about the phrase his mother had told him years ago.

“Mighty oaks from little acorns grow, now don’t you forget that Steven Grant Rogers.” She had ruffled his hair and sent him to bed. 

Yeah, Steve is REALLY not feeling that. He has fallen in the mud again, grunting as he tries to get his thin legs back under him. Hodges had hit him with the stock of the training rifle again, right to the gut. If looks could kill, Steve was pretty sure that he would have killed him by now. 

Hell hath no fury like an angry Steve Rogers. 

So he runs harder, barely overtaking the guy in the second to last position. He drops the gun and jumps at the rope ladder, but his leg slips through and he falls back, an annoyed look on his face as the drill sergeant yells at him and a few of the other guys laugh at him. 

“I bet Bucky didn’t have to go through this.” He grumbles to himself as he pulls back up, resuming his climb. 

It was these very events that made it hard to believe he was the one chosen to partake in the experiment. At first, he thought it was some sick joke they were playing on him. Then, when he returned to the barracks and his was the only stuff there, it sunk in. 

_____

Steve lay strapped to the table as it flipped up, the doors closing around him. Dr. Erskine had said that the serum would not only give him a pristine physical form, but would cure any and all illnesses he had. And by God he hoped he was right. He hoped that he was right when him and Bucky would sit up, talking late into the night about how neither of them thought their love was an illness. He hoped he was right that there was one thing the serum would not be able to change. 

Love was pain, and he was willing to live with the pain he sufferers every day in order to not give up Bucky. That's the one thing he doesn't think he would be able to live with. Giving up Bucky. 

The door shuts and the pain starts. Dull at first, but it grows until he feels like his bones are on fire, his vision going white. He tries not to yell out, but as it grows unbearable, he cries out. He can hear shouting for the machine to get turned off, so he shouts for them to keep going. He grits his teeth and stays quiet.

He can hear the strap around his stomach break, the thrumming of the machine deafening, the light blinding. Outside, sparks fly and the power dies all at once, leaving Steve trapped in the hot metal sarcophagus. The doors pop open and let in a rush of much welcomed cool air. He may not yet be mighty, but he certainly is bigger.

He opens his eyes as the doctor and Howard Stark help him off the mechanism. Steve thinks for a panicked moment, his love for Bucky doesn't seem to have been changed. Then Peggy asks him how he feels, reaching out to just barely touch his newly defined pectoral muscle. His skin crawls at the touch, and he resists the urge to smile because, yup, he still is very much in love with Bucky. They were right. He smiles. 

_____

Steve’s next two months fly by in a storm of dancing USO girls, and propaganda. And as he sits backstage of the latest show, in the middle of rainy Italy, he can’t help but think about how close he could be to Bucky, to his second half of his heart. 

His hand absently sketches out a monkey, riding on a unicycle and carrying his shield. 

“Hello, Steve.” He jumps at the voice, and turns to look over his shoulder, catching sight of Peggy Carter. 

“Hi.” He says, a little surprised. She smiles and sits next to him, trying to give her comfort to him. All he can see himself as is the dancing monkey. A horn sounds and it makes him jump again, looking to the commotion of people hauling wounded out of an ambulance. 

“They look like they’ve been through hell.” He says. Peggy hums beside him, and gives an explanation. 

“Your audience contained what's left of the 107th.” Steve’s stomach drops to his toes, the blood drained out of his face. He asks for confirmation, but doesn't get it as his patience has run out, and he’s racing out to Colonel Philips’s tent. 

His one goal is to get Bucky back. 

_____

Steve storms the castle. Or, factory in this case. He has unleashed his full fury, teeth grit, knuckles bloodied. He races around trying to find the prison ward, then unlocking all the cages. Hundreds of prisoners flood into the hall, but none of them the one he is so desperately searching for. He takes off in the direction that one of them points in, hoping, praying to any god there might be, that Bucky is still alive. 

He finds him strapped to a table, muttering his numbers, eyes glazed over. Steve quickly makes sure the room has no video feeds, and he rips the straps off. 

“Bucky!” He calls, placing his hand over his beloved’s cheek, smoothing his thumb over the bone. Bucky’s eyes slip back into focus, and he squints at Steve.

“Steve?” He asks, lifting his arm to grip the blond’s shoulder. He looks confused for only a minute until Steve bends down to lock lips with him. Like Prince Charming waking Snow White from her poisoned slumber, Bucky bolts upright. 

“Come on, we gotta go Buck.” Steve helps him off the table, and they hobble their way out of the factory, questions of how and why and when rattling from Bucky’s mouth. 

“I’ll explain later.” Is what Steve eventually gives Bucky.

_____

Steve doesn't leave Bucky’s side for the next few days. They sit in Steve’s dimly lit tent, rain pouring on top of them. Sitting side by side, Steve’s hand rests on Bucky’s knee as he explains things. 

“And here we are, sitting in this muddy hell.” Steve finishes. Bucky hums, tracing up Steve’s muscular forearm with one finger. Bucky leans his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, testing out the new odd feeling of having both more muscle padding and more height. He switches so his chin is resting on his shoulder, his icy blue eyes staring into Steve’s sky blue. 

Steve leans down to kiss him, tongue tracing the seam of his lips for entry. Bucky yields, and their kiss deepens. Steve twists his body so they are facing each other, one leg on the bed, the other dangling over the edge. Hands card through hair, and breathing gets more erratic. 

This is how Peggy finds them. 

“Captain, we need to discuss--” She walks into his tent, eyes trained on the file in her arms before looking up. They had broken apart in time to not have actually been caught in the act, but their appearances were proof enough. Both wore their undershirts with casual base pants, matching disheveled hair. Steve had a hickey at the base of his neck, and Bucky was covered in little nips.

Steve stood quickly, eyes wide in terror. They were sure to be thrown out of the army, most likely put in jail or put through correctional treatment. Bucky remained frozen on the bed. Peggy’s jaw dropped, file drooping until it was at her side. Steve reached his hand out, then withdrew it like he was going to get burned. 

“Look, Peggy, I can ex--”

“I knew it.” Peggy whispers, looking from one to the other. They looked at her dumbfoundedly.

“Your secret is safe with me. I’ll just leave this here.” She says as she places the file on the end of Steve’s cot. She turns to go back out into the rain, but stops to say one last thing. 

“You may want to consider something a bit more private.” She smiles warmly at them, and exits, the flaps swinging lightly as they close. 

_____

Not a week later they find themselves walking through the woods around base, both of them having the day to themselves. Naturally they decide to spend it together. Steve holds out his arm to stop Bucky, and points up the hill to a stone outcropping, more rock forming a cave underneath. 

They haul each other up, climbing inside, where it’s surprisingly warm. Steve takes off his shirt, leaving his undershirt, and balls it up to use as a pillow. Bucky rests his head on Steve’s chest, and gripps his tank top. They can see the whole base from the cave, high on the hill above the treetops. Beyond, is a town, half destroyed by bombs, but still standing. 

“It’s nice up here.” Bucky comments, his voice echoing quietly off the back wall, sounding around the small space. 

“Yeah. Too bad we can’t spend more time here.” Steve sighs. He brings his hand up to twist through Bucky’s hair, playing with the short strands at the base of his neck. Bucky chuckles softly.

“May as well make the best of it then.” Steve is almost confused at his words, but then the brunette climbs on top of him, straddling his waist. Steve grins wickedly as he immediately goes to pull Bucky’s shirt down his shoulders. He sits up, holding Bucky in place by his hips, which have begun to grind down against him. Bucky slides his fingers under Steve’s undershirt, then up the toned stomach and chest, gathering the fabric on the way, stopping briefly to pinch at Steve’s nipples, which are hardening just the same as some other things. He finally lets go and slides the shirt off, before removing his own. 

“You’re beautiful. Did you know that?” Steve asks, a flirty smile on his face. 

“You only tell me every day.” Bucky retorts. Steve growls and flips them over, pinning Bucky to the ground. With his hands over his wrists, he begins to move his hands up slowly, a silent command for Bucky to leave his arms on the ground. Bucky twitches as Steve’s light touches tickle the skin on his arms, causing Steve to see if what he was doing was alright. Bucky gave a nod and Steve moved down, unbuttoning Bucky’s pants. He slipped his fingers under the edge of his boxers, then he quickly shoved them down, exposing Bucky’s excited member. 

Steve trailed kisses down from his navel, towards the inside of his thigh, giving Bucky a few strokes. 

“So beautiful.” Steve murmurs as he sinks his mouth down around Bucky’s length, precum drizzling out of the tip. Bucky gasps, and can’t help as his hands go to Steve’s head, holding him in place. His hips buck as Steve begins to move up and down, breathing deeply through his nose. 

He pulls off of him with a wet pop, saliva trailing from his lip all the way down. Even in the dim light, Steve can see how his lover’s eyes are almost black with lust. He’s sure his are the same. Bucky sits up, hooking his hands under Steve’s armpits, dragging him up to lay on top of him. Steve happily goes with him, but props himself on his elbows, hovering almost nose to nose. Eyes locked, Bucky snakes his hands between them to undo Steve’s pants, pushing them down his hips. 

Steve dives forward to kiss the life out of Bucky, nipping at his lip before going back down his neck. Bucky reaches around to give Steve a few experimental tugs, Steve hard and aching as he moans softly. The blond moves to prop up on just one arm, the other joining where Bucky’s hand lay. Steve pushes one finger into Bucky, bending his knuckle just slightly, enough to bring Bucky up as he arches his back into Steve, a gasp escaping his slack jaw. 

“God… Steve--” is all Bucky can manage to say, squirming slightly under him. Steve chuckles slowly, adding in a second, then third finger, twisting them to have Bucky gasp out his name the same way that he just did. 

Pulling his fingers out, Bucky wimpers, feeling empty at the loss of the touch. He is about to protest before he groans in ecstasy, Steve’s cock filling him up as he thrusts in almost to his base. 

“This feel good?” Steve asks, his voice low, thumb now rubbing slow circles on Bucky’s side. The brunette grins widely, before he grabs Steve’s free hand and presses his fingers to his lips, kissing each knuckle. 

“Shit, Steve… Please…” He whines. Steve takes that as his cue, and begins to move his hips back and forth, rocking them to the beat of each breath he took. Bucky’s breath skips, rattling as he takes the steamy cave air in. Bucky nearly breaks Steve’s hand as he grips it. 

“Please.” Bucky begs, pushing his hips up to get more force. Steve smiles and presses a kiss to the corner of Bucky’s mouth, nipping his lip on the way up. Bucky’s soft plea was everything Steve needed to start completely railing him, thrusts becoming slightly more erratic as he neared the edge. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect… And so damn tight.” Steve growled in his ear, sucking on his earlobe. Bucky’s back arched up once more, nails dragging down Steve’s back, leaving long red welts. Bucky moans as he cums, his juices spraying over Steve’s abdomen. 

Voices just down the hill make them panic. They are far, but can be made out as the voices of Falsworth and Dougan coming closer. Steve’s head snaps up, and he pulls out quickly, fixing his pants and tugging his undershirt back on, Bucky scrapes his back on the wall of the cave as he shoots up, undershirt thrown on, then green base shirt, buttoning up until the last two. 

Steve is fixing his hair, looking wildly around for his shirt, to which Bucky throws it at him, hitting him in the face just as the two Commandos pop their heads into the mouth of the cave. Steve laughs and kicks the toe of Bucky’s boot from his spot on the opposite wall, unfolding his shirt to sling back over his broad shoulders. 

“Hey, Cap.” Dougan says, pulling himself in, nodding to the sergeant sitting on the opposite wall. Steve is just managing to control his laughter, and to regulate his breathing when Falsworth clambers in, Bucky shooting him a mad grin. 

“What’re you doing the whole way up here?” Dougan asks as he slumps against the wall next to him, twirling his bowler hat in his fingers. Falsworth leans against the wall next to Bucky, looking back and forth between the two brooklynites. 

“Just getting reacquainted.” Steve says, causing Bucky to snort, reciprocating Steve’s kick with one of his own. 

“What about you?” Bucky questions, brushing some dirt off his pants. 

_____

The train rattles under the soldiers, speeding through the snowy alps. Bullets fly and beams of blue light blaze, the fight hot. Steve’s feet are knocked out from under him, and he goes crashing into the floor, his shield bouncing away from him. 

Bucky picks it up and fires at the German soldier once, twice, three times, shield held in front of him. The soldier turns and fires, blasting dead center to the shield, blowing the brunette sideways and through a hole in the side of the train car. 

Steve’s eyes widen and he throws the metal disk with everything he has, contacting it to his chest, where he picks up the sound of ribs breaking through the armour. Before the disk hits the ground again, he has scrambled to the hole, reaching out shouting over the whipping wind. 

“Grab my hand!” He cries, chest constricting. Bucky reaches out, his fingers brushing his love’s. His face is riddled with terror, hand trembling, but he can’t reach.

The bar breaks and time stands still. Steve can only stare, paralized with fear, feeling his heart shatter.

Bucky falls away with a shout.

As he’s falling, Bucky shuts his mouth to silence his scream. He can’t let Steve hear him like this. He can’t let his last memory be of Bucky’s anguish. 

So he twists to his left, enough that his arm catches on a jagged rock ledge, shattering the bone and tearing at the flesh. The last thing he remembers is landing on his back, his head hitting the ground and knocking him out. 

And as he lays on the ground bleeding out, he smiles as his life plays before him. One. Last. Time.

_____

Steve staggers out of the debriefing, barely containing his emotions. He stops in the middle of the camp, mud splashing up and over his boots, contemplating on if he should go back to his tent. 

Unknown to him, the commandos watched him as he turned and wandered into the woods. Unknown to him, the commandos followed. 

Once he got deep enough into the trees, he stopped, scanning the snowy landscape ahead of him. He dropped heavily to his knees, sitting back on his heels, hands lay palm up on his thighs. The tears fell down his cheeks swifter than rivers, his entire body shaking. 

They say mighty oaks from little acorns grow. In this moment he had never felt lower. Someone had taken an ax to his heart and hacked away until he was nothing but splinters. His head dropped so his chin hit his chest. 

With a growl growing in the back of his throat, he unclipped the shield from his back and stood. 

Hidden behind a few trees, the commandos narrowed their eyes, watching for what he would do. They were afraid to move, to make noise. They were scared that their own heartbreak would be heard by their captain. 

With a yell, Steve threw his shield toward a tree, watching as it’s edge sliced right through and lodged in the tree behind. With a crash, the pine fell, shuddering the ground. He walked forward to his shield, and removed it from the wood, staring at the slice for a moment before he wound back and sent his fist to connect with it, splintering the trunk. 

He shook his bloody, probably broken hand, warding off the blossoming pain. He twisted on his heel so he could walk to the fallen tree, sitting on the trunk. 

The tears came hot and fast once more, falling like someone had just blown the Hoover dam. 

The shield slipped from his grasp and landed in the snow. He moved his now free hands to hold his head up with his elbows propped on his knees.

He couldn’t let the troops see him like this. With the snot threatening to spill from his nose, and the irregular breathing, cheeks red and puffy. 

Slowly, the commandos made their way from behind the trees, placing their hands on his shoulders. They sat next to him, they comforted him as best they could. 

_____

The screaming cockpit filled his head. The plane was headed for the ice, and Steve was glad. 

Long ago Bucky and Steve had promised each other that they would be with each other until the end of the line. And this was it. 

Bucky had gotten off, and that left Steve still on the train. Steve was giving his life to save the lives of countless people, and if he had to go, he would choose it no other way. And as Peggy’s voice crackled over the radio, he smiled.

The plane hit the ice and the radio signal cut. Steve was thrown from his seat, and as he was struck unconscious, his life played before his eyes. 

They say mighty oaks from little acorns grow. And maybe they were right. Maybe Steve was. 

[constantwritingblock]

Stolen Worlds 5

Queen of Thieves: Takes place just after the MC breaks up with Nikolai.

Avengers: Takes place during The Winter Soldier, but with additional characters.

Unknown!Nick Fury x reader, (previous) Nikolai Stirling x reader, platonic!Natasha Romanoff x reader, (eventual) Steve Rogers x reader.

Also just a statement, for any other languages spoken in this piece it will be done in bold and in English so that you are aware characters are speaking a different language. I find this easier than finding a bad translation.

Warnings: Strong Language & Violence. There are also some cuts of the film in this chapter, I have tried to edit as much as possible so that they aren’t the exact same...

Summary:  A new hideout made things all the more difficult to get a certain Nick Fury in and out without catching the glare of cameras surrounding the bustling city of New York, though Y/N is up for the challenge. Remy makes a deal with Casimir to not tell the others about what they witnessed, the only issue is, can the infamous conman stop Nikolai’s cousin from spilling the beans? Natasha looks into this Agent Z character a bit further now that she has nothing to go on, meaning easy bait for Hydra. Perhaps there’s something more she can uncover. Meanwhile Steve is still adjusting to the fact that ‘Z’ is not who she says she is.

If you had to ask her how things were going, Y/N would most likely respond with everything falling to pieces. She suspected that her cover was going to be blown by Hydra soon enough, meaning that reasoning with the Winter Soldier will not happen any longer. Moving to a more secure safehouse, well, safe-apartment, she continued on her hacking duties, remaining indoors. Unfortunately when she was in the zone, she tended to ignore the outside world, ergo, Steve’s messages asking when they could meet next.

She didn’t have time at the moment, she needed to ensure things were going to plan in her books or it would be the end of the road for all of them. Hydra would win. Something within her struck like lightning to her brain. The soldier! Fury, who had been accustomed to her silence for a long time now, perked up. “I take it you found something.”

“More like remember something. The Winter Soldier, he has a string of words and numbers that trigger him into the monster assassin that he is known for. I… speak to him, to get him to cooperate within the Hydra ranks. He’s softening, in the words of Pierce.” The older man raised a brow at her words, wanting her to continue. “As bad as it sounds, I could see about programming him to snap out of it? The only issue is that I have no doubt that Hydra are pushing their agenda faster… I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not there anymore. Most likely trying to kill Rogers and Romanoff.”

Cracking her knuckles she tapped away at the keyboard in front of her, accessing files, while ensuring that her IP couldn’t be traced back to their current location. “He’s out… to kill Sitwell. He’s with Romanoff, Rogers and Wilson...”

—

It certainly was suspicious timing for Steve to come across this Z. In all fairness the man may have been from the 40s but given the danger they were in, Natasha presumed that he would be more careful who he spoke to. She was obviously wrong. Hell, the name Z is a bit odd, not even giving him an actual name. So she spent her time now sitting through encrypted data that is hard to bypass. But the name has popped up a few times. Agent Z, joined recently after Fury died.

Wait what? After he died… Hydra aren’t that careless given that they had been planning this for years… Something wasn’t right, but as Nat was about to put her finger on it. “I got food, if you want some…” Sam’s voice called out, momentarily taking her gaze away from the laptop. “Ah, thanks.” Slamming it shut, she pounced on her feet, nimbly moving across the floor.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind… care to share?” Filled the silence between the two as she helped herself to some pasta. Nat kept quiet for what appeared to be an hour, but then remembered she needed to trust him, especially since Sam has let them crash at his place. “Just this Z person. She’s an agent in S.H.I.E.L.D.. My guess she was a part of Hydra, but the only piece of information I have is that she joined recently… as in, shortly after Fury died.”

Wilson was quick on his feet to contribute. “So what you’re saying is, either Hydra is getting sloppy or…”

“Or she’s our person on the inside.”

—

Steve wasn’t far from Sam’s home, he was merely a couple of paces away. Luckily the man’s neighbourhood was a quiet area. Hopefully there wouldn’t be S.H.I.E.L.D. agents running amok and causing chaos for the civilians. His head was reeling still at the thought of Z, he assumed it was short for Zoe or something could be his enemy. I must have fallen hard to get caught over it. Natasha was trying to be a friend to him, he valued honesty and if Z couldn’t do it then he’d get it out of her. She hadn’t responded to any of his messages he sent her via burner phone. She probably knows I’m on to her. All he wanted was to talk to her, if she was Hydra then maybe being taken in was the best to get more information out for them.

“I got something on Z.” Turning his head to face the spy, he headed inside to hear what she had to say. “I am still unsure on whether she’s Hydra or not, still nothing on that matter, but I’ve got something I need to deal with, a loose end…” Brows furrowed together at her cryptic words, Steve chose to just ignore it for now, after all, even if he asked it wasn’t as if she was going to give a clear answer, she would’ve done so to begin with. “Do you need any help?” The nod of her head shocked the captain, but he began to prepare.

—

Pushing his longest friend’s cousin against a wall was something the other man had not expected from the conman. Remy hushed any complaints out of Casimir. “Listen to me and listen to me carefully. There’s no need for Niko to know this. If you really want to value family then I suggest for the better, you keep your mouth shut about Y/N.” It was an out of character threat, but Remy understood that Y/N would’ve said something if she wanted anyone to know this side of her life. The side that was linked in with death and violence. As much as he didn’t want to assume anything, Remy trusted Y/N enough that she can handle herself. She was right after all. The Poppy doesn't get involved in anything violent or purposefully taking from the innocent. What she was doing must go against their beliefs, but that doesn’t mean that they would abandon her.

The cold stare she gave him spoke words to him, more than anyone else would. She’s doing this for herself and also for the man that was with her. He means something to her, and she to him. What, was something he would hopefully find out later. Shouts of names were called out as the rest of the band of thieves showed their faces. Quickly setting Casimir back on his feet, Remy frowned and shook his head. “Sorry, but she wasn’t there when we got there, it appears that Y/N has disappeared.” A solemn look crawled onto all faces of the Poppy, except Nikolai. His expression was more of pain and worry. He was griefed with fear that something bad had happened to her, much to his willingness of admitting it.

“Gathering from what I could see and find, she’s living fine, not terribly, but whoever is causing her to run, they frightened her so much that she thought we were them.” Looking down apologetically, it appeared everyone else seemed to buy it, Nikolai was more cautious than anything. “You’re positive you didn’t see her?” One guilt riddled shake of his head was all it took to convince the Thief Lord.

—

The fight on the bridge was a losing battle. Sitwell had most likely been killed off and now Sam was arrested alongside Natasha and Steve. The juddering movements of their confined vehicle caused them to bob, as vibranium-made restraints cuffed the trios wrists tightly.

“It was him.” Steve was the first to speak after a good 10, maybe 20 minutes of utter silence. Glancing in his direction, Sam observed the man’s expression, one of haunting. “He looked right at me… and he didn’t even know me.”

“How is that even possible? It was like 70 years ago.” It didn’t take long for Steve to put the pieces together of what had happened before he rescued Bucky the first time.

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in 43, Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall.” There was something that irked Sam with the way Steve was acting. He understood the first time round was the fact that this Z woman could possibly be Hydra, but this one held more pain, like he was remembering losing Bucky for the first and second time, the latter being for good, or so Steve thought. “They must’ve found him and-”

“None of that’s your fault Steve.” Natasha seemed to be the right person to speak up then. If Sam did, it wouldn’t have been pleasant. Yet, it caused an uncomfortable silence for what lasted hours, when in reality, a few seconds. “Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.” The conversation came to an end. Though, Sam caught on quick that Natasha wasn’t looking so good.

“We need to get a doctor here. We don’t put pressure on that wound, she’s gonna bleed out here in the tru-.” His eyes widened in horror to see one of the guards getting electrocuted by their fellow colleague. What the hell was going on? Panic ensued him as he had no idea who had hijacked their truck, when all three were under restraints. The helmet soon came off alongside the voice of Maria Hill.

—

It was getting rather late for some, Y/N had disappeared off to do god knows what in order to keep her cover under wraps. According to her Rumlow had been questioning her whereabouts and so she had to meet with him to get him off her back. Exhaling slowly, Fury never had peace for this long in his entire life. He may have been a trained spy but a part of him still held a small ounce of regret for dragging Y/N into this mess. She was the only other person he could trust in hiding him. She was a loyal person in general, even after she disappeared. He knew she kept tabs on him in secret when she could. He always knew. The young woman cared too much for her own good.

The peace didn’t last that much longer though, as his eyes snapped open to the sound of multiple footsteps. Seeing Rogers, an injured Romanoff and a new guy, he couldn’t resist a retort. “About damn time.” After an explanation of what had been hit with during his own assasination attempt, Romanoff was getting patched up from her own wound.“You’re looking good for a dead man.”

“Supposedly dead man. You can’t kill me that easily, trained assassin or not.”

“Why all the secrecy? Why not just tell us?” Rogers was never one to shy away, always one to get straight to the point. “Any attempt on the director's life had to look successful.” Thankfully Maria had stepped in for him, but he continued.

“Can’t kill you if you’re already dead, besides, I wasn’t sure who to trust…” The trio shared a look between them, but Natasha was the one to speak up first. “It’s clear you trust someone. They are going through a lot of effort for you to stay alive?” From her query, as much as it did imply Maria, he understood exactly who she was on about. Staring down at the assassin and spy, he took in her posture and expression, scanning for anything that could possibly be a trap. Noting how Rogers and the other man were giving similar reactions for a demand of an answer.

“The kid’s my niece. Been watching out for her since she was six. And the reason she chose that lifestyle… well I’m sure you’ve definitely heard the news.” And Natasha did. She knew what he was on about, though, Steve and Sam, not so much.

“What do you mean Fury? You’ve got a kid niece?”