#and then he gave his little bow and looked even tinier

[theinfinitedivides]

pls know that if i had been anywhere on the set during the filming of Besharam Rang and SRK walked in shirtless i too would have screamed so loud they'd pick me up on the audio

[velvetsainz]

summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] the corsican heat causes very particular problems for charles. part of the hot monaco nights series.

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), a lil hint of plot, use of explicit language, fingering, brief p in v, mention of oral (f!receiving), google-translated french (i cannot be stopped), we're pretending charles can legally drive a boat this size, em dashes, time is a social construct

a/n: you guys wanted to know what happened in corsica, so here's the start to that story. also giant mega jumbo thank you to @lecrep for help with a wonderful plot point which i will not spoil—hehe! enjoy, bbys! xx

You weren’t sure what Charles had to promise Pascale to get you two alone, but somehow he managed it.

It was the summer break of the ‘22 season, and you’d been dating a sweet six months since he’d first kissed you as the clock struck midnight on New Year’s.  It had been a small enough party, about thirty or so close friends and their partners—even a few kiddos, to boot.  What neither of you knew that night was that half of your shared friends had been scheming to get you two together; despite excuse after excuse about why one of you couldn’t go on a date, finally they’d been able to get the two of you in the same room.

Now, months later, you couldn’t imagine life any differently.  It made you think of the future, about forever…

No, you stopped yourself when you found yourself daydreaming, forcing yourself to stay in the moment.  You didn’t want to put too much pressure on it, put too many expectations on what was awaiting on the other side of that question.  It made everything easier, lighter.

Charles, on the other hand, was head-over-fucking-heels for you.  He’d always been a romantic, but something about you—the way you touched him, the way you looked at him, the way you kissed…he found himself easily thinking of his future with you, and he didn’t try to stop himself.

Granted, the way you looked in your sundress as you boarded the boat for a day along the Cosican coast, how could he think of anything but you?  The white cotton fabric against your new tan, the short skirt skimming over the tops of your thighs in the most tantalizing way.  Thoughts of the dress rucked up around your waist with his head between your legs and hands palming your perfect breasts under what remained of your dress filled his head, eyes glazing over and cock stirring in his trunks.  You were trying to kill him, he concluded, and he was as good as dead.

What you had underneath didn’t help anything either.  Once he’d gotten you both out to a private little cove and he’d dove into the water to escape the heat of the late morning sun, you decided that it was time to lay out for the afternoon; your master's program had kept you busy enough over the past couple months that you still felt all-too-pale even with your newly-acquired tan.  (Not to mention, you swore he kept you up half the night with the way he would pull your hips flush with his own and plant soft, searing kisses on the bare skin of your shoulders and back—you needed the rest.)

Peeling the white sundress over your head and discarding it on one of the padded benches, you’re left in a baby blue string bikini that he swore got even tinier since he’d seen you prancing around inside the villa before you’d left for the marina.  Face half submerged, Charles’s hazel eyes watched you like a predator watched its prey as you laid out on one of the cushions on the bow’s sun deck with a book in hand and sunglasses perched on your nose.

He grumbled to himself in broken French as his mind swam and blood rushed from his head to the appendage between his legs.  He’d been practically insatiable the past few days, his hands always finding a bare strip of scorching skin where he could get ahold of you before his lips and pouty eyes could take care of the rest.

Thirty minutes passed like that, the Monégasque puttering around in the water before he finally gave in to the siren call.

Padding up the steps from the teak swim deck at the stern of the boat, you could hear as he stalked his way to you, but you kept reading regardless.  That was, until you felt a pair of lips pressed to the small of your back, just above the waistband of the aforementioned bikini.  It drew a hiss from your lips and a slight jolt as you felt Charles’s cool wet skin press against your legs and his hair dripped onto your mid-back. You whined his name, setting your book face down.

“Oui, chérie?,” he asked in a low voice as he continued pressing heated, open-mouthed kisses up your spine until he was at the juncture between your neck and shoulders.

“Baby you’re cold,” you tried to explain as he sucked a mark into the delicate skin of your neck, your head sagging down and away as you bared your neck for him, “and you’re wet.”

He hummed into your skin, and you could feel the smirk at his lips as the cushion dipped beside one of your hips.  You turned onto your side as one of his hands wove itself into the hair just behind your ear, and his lips found yours again as they always seemed to do.  But this wasn’t a tame peck, an innocent little kiss—there was heat and tongue and your head was sent spinning off into the abyss as you felt your tummy do that telltale flip while your eyelids felt ten thousand pounds too heavy.

“You are too, ma belle,” Charles teased in a low voice, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide.

Again, a pitiful sound slipped from the back of your throat as his head dipped down to find your neck once more and one of his hands slipped under one of the side ties of your bikini bottoms.  “That’s beside the point,” you tried to rebut before he kissed you again, this time pulling the tie undone completely.  Oh, how he enjoyed silencing an argument like that…(Meanwhile, you thought it was playing dirty, but you’d allow it—for the storyline of it all, at least…no other reason—absolutely none…)

“Je peux vous aider avec ça,” he hummed in your ear before pulling your earlobe between his teeth, the deft hand on your hip ghosting over the skin of your inner thighs and causing your breath to catch in your throat.  “Permettez-moi…”

The honeyed words were like a magical salve to all that ails you, to all the remaining doubts that his kisses hadn’t cured from your mind; you hadn’t had much restraint before, but whatever iota you had remaining was sapped the moment his lust-lidded eyes met your own.

You nodded your head, and that was all the bastard needed as he smirked like the cat that had just gotten away with eating the canary. “So stubborn,” he chided playfully as he pulled one of your legs over his hip and the two of you settled into the cushions in full light of the blue skies above. Thankfully, he didn’t tease you too much as he took to sliding his calloused fingers over the damp velvet of your folds, drawing a soft whine from you like a confectioner pulling taffy in the window of one of the boutique shops you’d seen in Ajaccio.

Your eyes closed once more, head finding the crook of your partner’s neck as he drew the pad of his middle fingers in lazy circles around your pearl and the searing heat of his mouth found yours again.  He swallowed every little sound you gave him when he finally sunk two thick fingers into your soaked cunt, curling them against that spongy spot deep inside you.  Stars burst behind your eyes at the sensation and your hips bucked in search of more and more and more.

“Charles—,” you whimpered his name pitifully, brows knit together as you concentrated on that tight burning coil in the pit of your tummy that pulled tighter with each stroke of his digits against the velvet heat of your walls.

“Such a good girl f’me, mon ange,” he praised quietly as your hips canted in time with the movement of his fingers and soft sounds of your pleasure melted into the water that lapped at the side of the boat.  You weren’t going to last long like this, not with how sensitive he’d made you from his voracious desire to have you falling apart for him every moment he had just enough privacy to do so.

“Gonna—fuck-I–,” you stammered as your thighs clamped around his hand and your body tensed around him like a rubber band pulled taut.  Your eyes rolled back and strands of sweat-curled hair stuck to your forehead and nape, your mouth falling open in silent screams of pleasure.  Something snapped in the depths of your core, legs quivering while warmth washed over all of you and your toes curled against the back of his calf.

“Tellement belle,” he cooed as he nursed you down from your high with slow, feather-light strokes over your swollen bud, “I’ve got you, chérie.”

Slowly, as you came back to earth from your climax, you watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. He knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled in you once more, the wet heat of his mouth meeting your own as you tasted the salt of yourself on his tongue.

Pushing him away so you could catch the breath he’d stolen from your chest, you rolled onto your back as your shoulder ached from how you’d held yourself against him.  With an arm over your eyes, you could feel the smoldering embers in your belly reignite—you needed more.

“You’re evil, you know that?,” you teasingly mocked as he pulled your half-undone bottoms off your other leg. Charles wasn’t done with you yet, and you had a few ideas of your own now.

“I think I can live with that,” he shrugged smugly as he sat between your legs, trunks pulled down just enough to free his aching cock.  Stroking himself one, two, three times, he smeared the precum over his length before sinking into your depths with a hiss and a slew of French curses that always managed to go straight to your pussy.

Within only a few thrusts, though, he was stalling and readjusting.

“What’s wro—oh!,” you yelped in surprise as he lifted you then, first onto his knees and then onto his feet before taking you to the side of the boat and perching you onto the railing. You could hear the warning bells in your mind start to ring, but you still felt like a pile of jelly from your first orgasm to the point that you weren’t in much of a place to argue. Still, Charles could see the hesitancy in your eyes, feel it in the way that you clung to him.

“Je t’ai, je t’ai,” he reassured with a strong hand on your hip and another guiding one of your arms around his neck.  You nodded, trusting he had tight enough hold of you.

But oh how that trust was misplaced…

The angle from which he drove into you was almost too good to be true—if you’d have been standing, your knees would’ve buckled at the very sensation.  And given the choked groans in your ear, you knew the Monégasque felt the same way, too.

You closed your eyes for just a moment and then suddenly you were plunged into a dim coldness that enveloped your entire form, a stark contrast from the simmering heat of your boyfriend’s body.  Thankfully, your instincts reacted faster than your conscious mind, and you emerged at the surface after only a moment under the waves.

Just as your head broke the surface, a large splash came down just next to you before familiar hands were finding your skin—first at your ankle…then your opposite calf…then your hips and small of your back.

This dumb motherfucker lost his grip amongst the sweat and sunscreen and slick of you and sent you over the side of the boat into the crystalline waters below.  It was only a seven-foot or so drop, but still, the point stood: he did not, in fact, have you.

A shocked and incredulous look took over Charles's face as he sputtered and stammered, trying to think of something—anything—to say that would make sense of this disaster of a sexcapade.

You, on the other hand, simply laughed.  You were fine—shocked, no doubt, but fine nonetheless.

“You’re so fucked,” you laughed as you wrapped yourself around him once more as you knew there was no meaningful way he could drop you now—you were not making the same mistake twice.

“Je suis foutu vraiment désolé, chérie—I-I thought-I,” he stammered, still falling over himself to try and explain the whole thing before you took his flustered face in your hands and pressed your lips together to shut him up once and for all.

“I’m fine, baby—I’m okay,” you soothed, resting your forehead against his.  You could feel his heart pounding in his chest pressed to your own.  Slowly, he seemed to come back into his body, into his coherent thoughts as the fear and adrenaline of the whole snafu began to fade.

“However,” you started, leaning back from the man, “I will expect some heavy groveling tonight.” You smirked, a slight mischievous twinkle in your eye.

“‘Groveling’?,” he asked in confusion, “I do not kno—”

“Ne t'inquiète pas,” you teased with a knowing grin, “you’ll figure it out, baby.”

And figure it out he did as you came for the third time that night, pushing his head away from your oversensitive cunt as a chuckle rumbled through his chest and over your sweat-slicked skin.  You were scrabbling away over sheets now damp with your sweat and release, whine caught in your throat as Charles tangled a hand in your hair at the nape of your neck to pull your mouth to his own in an absolutely fucking filthy kiss that had your rubbing your thighs together like a damn cricket.

“Charlie,” you whimpered as his hand pried your thighs apart once more with your chest still heaving from your last orgasm.

“I thought you wanted me to grovel, mon cœur,” he snarked as his teeth worried into that same spot between your neck and shoulder as before, tongue soothing over the blossoming mark before he ducked his head further down.  You keened for him petulantly, hips bucking momentarily as his plush lips wrapped around a taut nipple.

Still, he looked up at you as he released your nipple with a wet pop, and his hazel eyes met yours in earnest.  “Do you want me to stop, chérie—enough for tonight?,” he asked, knuckles gently brushing over your cheek and pushing your now-dampened hair away from your face.  You could feel his cock, hot and heavy against your sensitive thighs, and you would’ve had the dignity to blush if it hadn’t been for the fact that you’d probably let him do just about anything he wanted to do to you.

“No, I just—,” you started pitifully before a sharp cry of surprise left your lips as he tugged you firmly by the ankles closer to him once more.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet, minette,” he half-groaned with that stupid fucking smirk on his lips while pressing against your quivering entrance before he bottomed out in a single press of his hips that made your eyes roll like a pair of marbles on a tile floor.

You were so incredibly fucked. Literally and figuratively.

final note: i now have a sideblog for my writing, @velvetsainz-writes! follow me there for fic recs, inspo, & all things related to my writing!

[cozage]

OMG HIII I LOVE YOUR WRITINGGG this is gonna be my first request ever (literally having a nervous breakdown) but I wanted to request a fem reader who is the bio daughter of whitebeard and comes back after 2 years of shinobi training to meet the new crew member Fire fist ace! and can you pls make it a short fic (I cannot fathom the words of how obsessed I am with this man IFDFJDKDGJK) (also can she have a DF that's associated with lava? pls and thank you *literally bowing*)

A/N: God this was so adorable to write. I'm so obsessed with this fun little story. Literally once I started writing I couldn't stop. thank u 

Characters: female reader, Ace, Marco, Whitebeard & Crew

Cw: alcohol, drunk reader

Total word count: 2.3k

Part 2 | Table of Contents | Read on A03

The Daughter’s Return Chapter 1: The Promised Position

The vivre card in your hand continued to move forward, but you could see the familiar outline of the Moby Dick ahead of you, and you grinned at the sight of being so close to your family again. You had been training for two years, and you couldn’t wait to catch up with your friends and your father after being apart for so long.

Your small boat looked even tinier as the giant ship loomed closer to you, but you weren’t concerned. Blue flames shot into the sky from the blue ship, and you sent out a stream of lava into the air in return. It was your code to the first division commander and friend, proof that you were who they were expecting. 

You saw a creature with blue flamed wings shoot into the sky, and you gathered up your things. You only had a small backpack and a few bags of food, so there wasn’t much to pack up. You said goodbye to your small raft, thanking it for its usefulness during your journey.

Marco landed on your boat, and you squealed in delight seeing your brother again. He wrapped you up in a hug and spun you around, laughing gleefully at your return. 

“Pops is going to be thrilled to see you,” he said, sitting you down. He ruffled your hair affectionately, smiling at you. “Missed you, kid.”

“Missed you too, Marco,” you said, grinning at him. You picked up a bag, handing it off to him to carry back to the ship. 

“You’ve grown!” he commented. “I can’t look down at you anymore.”

You gave him a cheeky grin. “I’m stronger too.” 

“You better be!” He laughed. “Pops didn’t smuggle you into Wano for you to come back the same!”

“Maybe he’ll finally make me commander now.” You stared up at the ship, thinking of the goal you’d been working towards since the beginning of your training. 

“About that…” Marco trailed off, and you shot him a suspicious look. 

“What?”

He sighed, deciding to prepare you. “Pop’s filled the second division commander seat, actually.”

“What?” you hissed. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“With who?” you demanded. You refused to believe him. “I thought nobody wanted it.”

“It’s a new guy.”

“A new guy?” you scoffed. “You’re pulling my leg, Marco. It’s not funny.”

Marco looked nervous talking about it. “Let’s go see Pops, alright? He’ll explain.” 

You scowled, and your stomach clenched in anticipation. “Yeah, let’s go. I have some words to say to him.”

Marco wrapped his arms around your torso and extended his phoenix wings. “I’m glad to see you’re still a hothead.” You could hear the teasing in your voice, but you weren’t in the mood for jokes anymore. 

“Shinobi training can’t fix everything,” you grumbled. You could feel your skin getting warm, a sign you were letting your emotions get to you. 

You heard a lot of low whispers and mumbling, but you paid the new recruits no mind as you stormed across Moby Dick. Your father wasn’t on the deck, so you continued on to the command room. 

“DAD!” you screamed, and you could see some of the newer members slink away from you in fear. A part of you felt some pride to have such an impact, but you were too pissed to revel in it.

You slammed the command room door open to find your father speaking with another man you didn’t recognize, but you paid the guest no mind. You were too focused on settling the score of the second division commander seat.

Whitebeard smiled at you. “Y/N! You’re-”

“You bastard!” you shrieked. You pulled out a kunai, pointing it at your old man. “You promised!”

The unknown man threw a knife and knocked the kunai out of your hand, and you turned to glare at him. He was shirtless and was wearing an obnoxious orange hat, and he was returning your gaze with a look of equal irritation. 

“Stay out of this, newbie,” you hissed at the man. 

You reached into your pouch to grab another kunai, but he lunged at you, grabbing your wrist to stop you.

“I don’t know who you are,” the man said in a low, dangerous voice. “But you have no right attacking Pops the moment you get on our ship.”

“Stay out of my affairs,” you snarled. 

You turned your wrist to lava rocks to burn his hand, but at first the man didn’t react. You frowned, turning up the heat to liquidize your arm into magma, and finally the man pulled away in pain. He looked down at his hand in shock, as if he wasn’t expecting to be burned. You couldn’t blame him. It’s not everyday someone’s skin turns into boiling liquid. 

Whitebeard laughed loud and hearty, breaking the tension between you and the man, and you refocused your anger back to your father. 

“Never a dull moment with you around, kid! It’s great to have you back,” he laughed, and your face flushed with anger. 

“You promised me a commander position when I got back,” you yelled at him. “Who the hell did you give it to instead?”

Whitebeard laughed even harder. “That would be Ace.”

“Who the hell is Ace?” you hissed. 

The shirtless man raised his hand. “Uh-”

“I said stay out of my affairs!” You could feel steam coming off your head. Sometimes that happened when you got too angry.

The man pointed at himself. “Me. I’m Ace.”

You could feel your insides turning hot, lava coursing through your veins. 

“You’re joking,” you said. You glanced at your father, who was still smirking at the two of you. “He’s joking, right?”

You father raised his eyebrows, his gaze darting between the two of you, but he said nothing.

“Portgas D. Ace,” the man said, holding out a hand to you. You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, facing your father. 

“This guy?'' Your voice was full of skepticism. 

“Hey!” Ace yelled from behind you. “Don’t underestimate me!”

“I could squash you like a bug,” you shot back, still refusing to look at him. “Dad-”

“The decision was made with good reason, my girl,” Whitebeard said. “You’ll be working alongside him closely in the second division.”

“No, I won’t,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at his suggestion. 

“Yes, you will.” You could hear the seriousness in your father’s voice, the warning of consequences thick in his tone. 

You decided it was best to not outright defy him, and you switched your tactic from stubborness to logic.

“I’ve always been under Marco,” you reasoned.

“You’ll be better suited in the second division now.” You could feel Ace smirking behind you, and you resisted the urge to turn around and punch his teeth out. 

“Let me get this straight,” you said, trying to keep a level voice. “You give my commander position away and then tell me I have to work under the guy who took it from me?”

Ace laughed. “The second division position has been open for-”

You flicked a volcanic rock back at him, and he yelped in pain. 

“Marco is a fire user like me,” you worked to plead your case further. “And I know him. I would work better under him.”

“The first division is a medical division now,” your father explained. You could see you were testing his patience, but you didn’t care. “Your talents are better served on the offensive front, which Ace leads.”

“But-”

“Plus,” your father added, cutting you off. “Ace is a fire user as well.”

You felt warmth spring up behind you, but you refused to give Ace the satisfaction of being acknowledged.

“Dad-”

“I’m not wavering on this decision,” he said with finality. 

You felt your father’s conqueror’s haki spread out over the ship, and you knew that you had lost the argument. You could hear Ace stumble slightly behind you, and you resisted the urge to argue even further over the man’s weakness. At this point it would only make your father angry, even if you were right. 

“Fine, fine,” you sighed, giving up. There’d be plenty of time to talk with him about the position and prove your worth. “Can we at least have a party?”

Whitebeard’s overwhelming presence disappeared and his jolly laugh returned in an instant, already forgetting your alls squabble. He stood up, wrapping you in a comforting embrace, leading you past Ace and out onto the deck. 

“My daughter has returned home!” he shouted, and the crew cheered. “Prepare a feast!”

--

At least the party life on the Moby Dick hadn’t changed at all. You could still beat just about anyone in a drinking contest, and by halfway through the night, your mind was cloudy from the alcohol. 

You took a step away from the party and the fun to get a moment alone with the stars. You took a drink of the ale in your tankard, staring up at the million lights in the sky and thinking about how different the constellations looked during your time in Wano. You were so close to that country and those people, yet so far. 

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” a male voice said behind you, startling you from your thoughts. 

You glanced back to find Portgas D. Ace walking towards you, looking up at the night sky. He was attempting to be casual about the whole thing, as if he had randomly found you here, but you could tell that he had most likely searched you out on purpose.

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him. He wasn’t even worth giving the time of day. He hadn’t done anything to prove he was anything special yet.

But Ace obviously wasn’t willing to give up that easily, because he came and stood directly next to you. His eyes were still on the sky, just like yours were. 

“I just feel like since we’re going to be working together, we should probably get to know each other a little better,” he said. 

You thought of plenty of snarky responses, but said none of them. You knew the silent treatment would be the best way to shut him down. Portgas D. Ace was not your friend. You wanted nothing to do with him. 

“Are you happy to be back on the ship?”

Still nothing came out of your mouth. You didn’t even look his way, you simply took another long drink. But you could see him starting to pout. It was only a matter of time before he gave up and returned to the party. You just had to keep your mouth shut. 

“All the guys said you had a pretty smoking ability. But I dunno, I think my fire ability is pretty hot.”

You scoff at that. “I’m hotter,” you shot back. 

Damn him. He could rile you up, and he knew exactly how to. You could see him smirk in the corner of your eye, and you cursed yourself for being so easy to manipulate. 

“That’s what they all said too,” he said quietly, a smile still lingering on his face. 

You turned to look at him, your face full of frustration. “What do you want?” 

He seemed surprised by your question. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you speaking to me?” you demanded. “What do you want?”

“Wh-No-I just-” Ace stammered, trying to find his words. 

You stared at him, your scowl deepening every time he started his sentence over. 

“You’re Whitebeard’s daughter, aren’t you?” he finally asked. 

“Yeah. And?”

“I’ve just heard a lot about you,” he said. 

“And?”

“I dunno,” he said. “You intrigued me.”

You scowled at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I dunno!” He let out an exasperated sigh, turning his gaze to the stars. “You were just this larger than life story people always told since I got on this ship. Everyone always had something to say about you. I guess I just wanted to know how much of it was true.”

“All of it is true,” you said.

Ace let out a laugh, and then clamped his hand over his mouth to stop himself. “I really hope not.”

Your eye twitched, and you could feel your skin starting to tingle. “If people are lying about me, they’ll pay for it.”

“Marco talked about you like you were this sweet little kid.”

“Marco’s delusional.”

Ace laughed again, and this time he didn’t stop himself. You found yourself smiling along with him. 

“He definitely sees the best in people,” Ace said.

You shot him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You could see Ace tense. “Oh, nothing! I-”

You let out joyous rings of laughter now, and you see Ace give a strained smile, mostly unsure of how to react to your sudden friendliness. 

“You’re funny, Portgas D. Ace.” You go to take another sip of alcohol, just to find your cup empty. You frowned at it, and turned to go find more booze. 

“I’ll get it,” Ace offered, holding out his hand to take your cup. “I’m empty too.”

You nod, handing it off to him. The party was so loud anyway. You preferred the quiet atmosphere this late in the night. He strode away, and you watched him go, your father’s emblem displayed proudly on his back. He still wasn’t anything special, but at least he wasn’t scared of you like half of the crew. 

You hadn’t realized how much alcohol you had drank throughout the night until you were alone, and suddenly the world was spinning. You laid down on the deck to get your bearings, and then found yourself stuck there. 

When Ace came back, he found you sprawled out, staring upwards. 

“You okay?” he asked. He bent down to look at you, his face obscuring part of the sky. 

You giggled. “Your freckles look like stars.”

“You’re drunk.”

“No you’re drunk.”

He chuckled. “Your insults get worse as the night goes on.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, and then patted the deck next to you. “Come lay down.”

He obliged, his head resting next to yours. “What are we looking for?” he questioned. 

“Shhhh!” you hissed, pressing a finger to his mouth. “You’ll scare them away.”

You felt his lips turn upward against your finger, but he was quieter when he spoke. 

“What are we looking for?” he whispered. 

“Shooting stars!” you whispered back. 

“Oh,” Ace whispered. “Of course.”

“Tell me when you find one,” you said quietly. “I’m going to rest my eyes for a minute.”

You’re not sure if he ever found one. You were asleep before he responded.

[inkywinkdink]

wrote this story called “appetite of one” on google docs, and gave it like 2 chapters before forgetting about it. remembered it awhile ago so i thought to share it

at first, i thought it'd be a bit weird to tell this story, but with a bit courage, i went for it. here we go :D

Chapter 1

It was a day like any other, I woke up. I thought to myself, “Better be ready for tomorrow.” I looked back at my calendar in my room, hanging on my wall with only a staple stabbed into it and the wall, barely hanging on. In a big red circle, with a doodle of a birthday cake on the day, June 5th. Today was June 4th. This isn’t my birthday, but my brother, Ed’s. “Huh.. What should I get him? He doesn’t like any toys, he’s almost 14. Maybe a game? No, it might remind him of dad and mom.” It took a while for me to think. Anything I thought of, either wasn’t Ed’s interest or could remind him of traumas. “I’m not trying to hurt Ed. I want him to be happy for the first time since his last birthday.” I thought.

Ed’s 13th birthday went worse than ever, as the house nearly burned down, and Ed has a phobia of fire. I think you can guess how that went.

On June 5th, 2010, Ed’s 13th birthday.

“We got you something you’d like, Ed.” Mom said, with a grin on her face. “It’s something you’d always beg for.” Dad said, with a slight smile. Ed gently tore the bright, red paper that was tightly wrapped around a rectangle box. He pulled out a box cutter, flawlessly slicing through the tape. The box’s arms flapped out, nearly smacking him at quick speed. Inside the box was a tinier box, it was carefully placed almost perfectly in the bottom of the cardboard box it sat in. Ed reached his hands in, both of his hands grabbing the sides of the box. He turned the box around, inspecting it. It had a poofy, red bow on the front side of the box, where some toy of sorts was inside. He gently pulled off the bow, then threw the bow to his dad to catch. The white box had a clear window, which showed a toy airplane. Ed’s smile grew more and more as he looked at it. “We knew you’d enjoy it. Since you were 10, you would beg us for an airplane toy. Here you go, Ed. What you always wanted.” “Thank you.” He mumbled, trying to not scream of joy. Mom looked at me, she seemed surprised how he said thank you. He’d usually not say it till I told him to. Ed started freaking out, like swaying his legs around and never leaving the sight of the toy off his eyes. But the most obvious part was his big.. No, gigantic smile on his face. He was like a squeaky toy that was squeezed really, really hard by a little kid. That’s how happy he was.

Chapter 2

I watched how he opened the box, with glee in his face. I have never seen him this or more happy. I could audibly hear his “happy noises” as mom called it, “Tourette Syndrome” as the psychiatrist called it. Sure, at first, his tics weren’t audible, but when it was quiet, you could hear it for sure. All that was making noise, other than him, was a speaker playing some overrated christmas song, like “All I want for christmas is you”, playing in the crispy 144 FP quality it usually does. That song makes me cringe, but also scared.

Ed, mom, and dad all started setting the toy up so it’d work. I just stared in awe. “How long is this gonna take?” I ask, pure confusion. “Just wait.” Mom said. I could see Ed not waiting, he’d look like he’d explode in excitement. “I was just asking in confusion, not hate.” I said back, hoping she’d understand. “Kay, whatever you say.” Mom said, not even focused on me. I am not a mean or selfish kid, but I felt like I didn’t get anything, since I didn’t open anything yet. “Did I get anything?” I asked, just making sure. “Of course, dear. We don’t hate you.” Mom said, sounding concerned that I asked. Dad just looked back at me, with a slight concern as well.

I look back at the tree, two gifts sat under it. I crawled toward the tree. I could hear them laughing in joy. I looked out the window, the night moon seemed to gleam at me, and the cold wind breezed on my arms, making me shiver. I could feel my hair flow backwards, like I shouldn’t do this. I decided that I was “just gonna check if they were for me” so I could, at least, not be impatient. I grabbed my black hair and tucked it under my shirt so it wouldn’t fly away. I looked at the presents under the tree, and checked the presents. Yup. “For Jay, for Jay.. both for me? No more for Ed? Well, he got an airplane, he’d be pleased with that.”

I thought it was strange how my parents put up a tree for a birthday party, but neither Ed nor I questioned it. It was “just tradition”, like mom said. And dad had the idea of giving both me and Ed presents, despite that it was his birthday. Not mine. It’s especially weird because of the fact that my birthday is in September, nowhere close to Ed’s.

But.. It's just tradition.

Just tradition.

[ end of chap 2 ]

yayayayayy!! :D

[yourbestpalpercy]

A teacher assistant job!

So far, Leaf had been in the world of ToonTown for…about 1 month and 2 weeks maybe? She needed to keep a calendar around to keep proper track of time. Time had really been going by fast, she had been helping fight Cogs with the other Toons, still not allowed to fight Manager Bossbots though. But she had made great progress on her speaker and helping the Toons with Boardbots. She even had a backpack to hold her Sound Gags. She also had managed to pick up some Toon-Ups.

Of course, Leaf did need a break from battling. The battles were no doubt a highlight of her time here, being great fun and all but she was tired. So, without a second thought, she took out her map, looked over it until she found her marking and started to head towards the schoolhouse.

Outside, many different types of Toons were playing and rough housing. Leaf chuckled softly. They also were using tinier versions of gags on each other. How sweet…

Leaf approached the doors and entered the school, approaching the main teacher. They were dressed in your typical teacher's outfit. They were a rather soft, blue cat. “Hiya there, sir,” Leaf smiled, reaching out her hand. “I’m here for the teacher’s assistant job,” Leaf explained to the teacher. “Ah, took a lot less time than expected!” The teacher exclaimed, looking rather excited.

“My name’s Professor Pete. You?”

“I’m Leaf!” Leaf smiled, shaking his hand.

“Oh wait! You’re that human that’s been running about helping The Resistance, I think…right?” Professor Pete asked.

“That I am, sir!” Leaf smiled, bowing a little.

“Well, you’ve definitely been doing good. For a human,” Professor Pete teased, poking Leaf in the shoulder and causing her to laugh.

“Why thank you! I-It’s been a bit of a struggle, I actually got a serious injury about a week ago. It was a Two Face’s Razzle Dazzle. It…it gave me a pretty bad burn on my arm. It’s still healing up actually. There was also how I tried to fight uhm…I think one of the Boardbot Managers. I got hit very, very hard and had to sit the fight out. My other arm has a bad bruise from that. But, y’know, I always cover up, almost completely!” Leaf chuckled at this.

Leaf squeaked, hearing a knocking just below her feet. She slammed her foot on the ground, causing Professor Pete to chuckle. “Don’t worry about that, it’s just the heater. It’s a very loud heater.”

“A-Ah! Gotcha!” Leaf nodded.

“Now then, about that Teacher’s Assistant job. Follow me, my classroom is just over here.” Leaf quickly caught up to Professor Pete and glanced around his classroom. The colors were just as wacky as outside the building. There was also a very, very strange clock on the wall. The actual hands were off the clock. Guess there was no way of missing where the clock hands were…

Just as Professor Pete finished showing Leaf around, the bell rang. Giggling filled the building. Leaf stood by the door as the class came in and started to get seated. Pete sat in his chair, clearing his throat. The children must’ve been pretty young as they hushed up rather quickly and watched Professor Pete. “Okay class, so, we have a new edition to our classroom. Please say hello to Leaf,” He gestured to Leaf with a gentle smile on his face.

Almost immediately, Leaf felt rather anxious, giggling sheepishly as she waved back to the kids. She never knew with kids, they typically had 0 filters.

“Woah! It’s the- the pale thingy!”

“His hair is so green!”

“She’s so tall!”

“It’s a boy! It’s so obvious!”

“Nuh-uh! She’s clearly a girl! Look how long her hair is!”

“But Green is a boy color!”

“Nuh-uh! It's a girl color!”

“Yeah-uh! Girls don’t like green!”

“I like green!”

Professor Pete stood up, shouting, “1, 2, 3, eyes on me!” He clapped along to his words. When that didn’t work, he made a gesture with his hand, “Quiet Coyote!!” He shouted. The kids snapped to attention, copying the hand signal. “Thank you, she’s my new teacher assistant so you’ll probably be seeing her more often.”

“Okay!!” The Class said.

“Now, can we give a proper hello to Leaf?”

There was a mix of ‘Hi’s and ‘Hello’s between the class. These kids were like little angels! Better well behaved than any other kid that Leaf had personally seen.

Then there was that banging from under Leaf under. Leaf glared slightly at the ground and stomped her foot slightly in response. “Shut up, Heater!” One kid shouted in response.

“That’s not very nice to say. We don’t say shut up, we say…?” Leaf started, glancing anxiously at the Professor as she said this. “Oh! Right, be quiet, please, Heater!” The kid repeated.

“Good job, Leaf. Okay Class, we have a worksheet today so if you have any questions, please ask me or Leaf,” Professor Pete explained and handed Leaf some papers to give to the class. Leaf did so, making small talk as she did.

As she got to the back, she noticed a student that hadn’t said a word. She was a dusty pink, and had stripes that were darker, almost like a tabby’s. She also had white accents all over and a long, cord-like tail. “...Hi there, what’s your name?” Leaf asked, sitting down as she passed them a sheet of paper. “Oh, uhm, hi,” the cat said, turning her reddish green eyes towards Leaf, writing down her name. Eira. “Ear-a…”

“It’s eye-ra.”

“Oh! Eira, okie,” Leaf smiled before walking back to the front of the class. The class quickly began to work on the worksheet, asking Leaf questions about the work and her life back at home. Leaf happily answered these questions.

“Okay class, now that we’re-...” Professor Pete stopped, noticing that the chalk he was using was…gone. Completely. “Oh…great, uhm, Leaf? Could you head down to the basement and get some more chalk please?” Professor Pete asked.

Leaf nodded quickly and left the room. Professor Pete’s voice spoke back up to explain the lesson to the class, even without the chalkboard readily available.

Leaf approached the basement doors and opened the door carefully. The walk down the stairs wasn’t too bad and, when she got down there, there were a few rooms. One labeled the storage and-...there were voices behind the other door. Leaf opened the door as quietly as she could and took a peek. She couldn’t see them yet. Leaf paused before closing the door behind her. She moved behind the chairs.

“I’m telling you! This machine will help the Cogs take over ToonTown once and for all!” The voice sounded…a little pompous. Before her was a large room, almost like a choir room. There were many rows of green chairs. There were cobwebs all over in this room.

There was an answering muttering that Leaf couldn’t quite make out. That was a Cog from what Leaf could barely see. Leaf made her way to the stairs carefully, hiding behind the seats from time to time…wait, was that purple cog just talking to dummies? Like…test dummies? No, their emblem was glowing. Just as she reached the final step, Leaf suddenly slipped! Like an idiot, she hit the back of her head on the stairs. “Ouch!!”

The main, purple cog spun around rather quickly, looking a little shocked. “Wha-!?” Leaf held her head and groaned softly. She opened an eye and shined a nervous smile as she waved at the Cog. “O-Oops…hi there,” Leaf looked back at what she slipped on, a banana peel. Oh, guess Cogs could use them too…

“Oh. Goodie,” The Cog rolled his eyes, “An eavesdropper…” He crossed his arms. “Bet you didn’t expect me to place that ‘Gag’ on the stairs, huh?” He seemed rather smug. Leaf just tilted her head. He talked like he had expected Leaf to know who he was. “...Uhm…I’m Leaf!” Leaf said with an anxious smile.

The Cog just huffed, “Don’t recall asking but fine. I’m Brian, but you can call me Prethinker. That’s all you need to know anyways,” He waved his hand slightly. “I’ll assume you’re here to stop my plans! Aren’t you?” Leaf tilted her head before glancing up at the large chalkboard. Upon it were quite the machine blueprints. Something about mind control…

“Stop your plans? Like the plans on that chalkboard?” Leaf asked.

“Other plans! Duh, I know your tricks, kid,” Prethinker said, still invading her space. Leaf shoved his face away with her hand, “Dude. Personal space buddy. Seriously, ever heard of it?” Leaf asked Prethinker.

Prethinker looked rather offended by what Leaf did, “Oh whatever. Let me ask you a question, kid,” “And stop calling me a kid. I’m a young adult, I have a job as a teacher’s assistant,” Leaf matched Prethinker’s crossed arms with her own. “Ooohoho! So we’re playing smart now are we!?” Prethinker would’ve had a very angry smile on his face if he had a mouth. “Why yes, in fact, I am,” Leaf walked over to the chalkboard and leaned against it. “Prick.”

“Shut up. Just shut up. Let me ask you a question, kid,” Prethinker cocked his head to the side with clear sass.

“No.”

“What’s the difference between- N-No? NO!?”

“Correct. No. Had to check to see if you had ears. Guess you do.”

Prethinker seemed to be rather angry, just glaring before huffing.

Leaf returned to his gaze. ‘He looks like he just picked up on me trying to make him angry. He’s probably gonna give me the silent treatment until I beg him to talk or something…’ Leaf hummed and looked back at the plans behind her. She then erased a single sentence. That got him talking.

“Hey! Don’t you even think about erasing my plans! Those plans took more thinking than you’ve ever had to do in your entire human life,” Prethinker quickly rewrote the sentence. “...You know what a human is? That’s new…” Leaf noted.

“Of course, it’s the biggest difference between Toons and Suits! Intellect! All of those Toons are all brawn and no brains!”

“I’m pretty sure Toons have a brain actually-.”

“WOULD YOU STOP THAT!? It’s a figure of speech!”

“What? Stop what?”

“You’re being a smart*ss and you know it!” Prethinker shoved his finger near Leaf’s face. Leaf looked a little sick as she watched Prethinker’s brain turn red but she still had to continue.

“Hahahah!! You called me smart!”

“Whatever! All of those Toons are all bark and no bite! But-.”

“They don’t all-.”

Prethinker shoved Leaf before she could finish her sentence. He then cleared his throat, adding some more things onto his plan. “But Suits, such as myself, are smarter than you could ever dream of being!”

“I wouldn’t say that to a human. I’m pretty smart for my age…I-I studied constantly on uhm…weather,” Leaf smiled.

“Oh please, I bet you’re one of those idiots who think fire tornados are possible. Aren’t you?”

“Possible but they aren’t real tornados! Also, it’s a fire whirl^^!” Leaf smiled.

“Hmfp, okay then, what’s the safest place in a hurricane?”

“The eye!” Leaf covered one of her eyes. “Wait- no.”

“HA!” Prethinker started laughing. “The Eye? Are you kidding me?”

“Okay then, my turn, hm…how about something about animals? I love animals…”

“Fine then. Hit me.”

“...” Leaf began to think before racing more of the board and writing down her question and then reading it out.

“What’s the scientific name for a Pine Tree?”

“You said Animals…” Prethinker glared at the question before erasing it and rewriting what was originally written on the board. “Oh right.”

Prethinker huffed, “Exactly. I see living around those Toons has already made you rather forgetful. Won’t be much longer. It’s a cycle. Forever repeating,” Prethinker started, watching Leaf think of a question.

“...A cycle?” Leaf asked, turning towards Prethinker.

“Oh. You don’t know?” Prethinker merely chuckled. “You’re not the first human this town has claimed…” Prethinker said with disgust in his voice.

“...What…?” Leaf couldn’t hide the worry in her eyes.

“You heard me. You’re not the first human this town has claimed. It happens once in a blue moon, a human shows up, then they mysteriously disappear. Interestingly, a new Toon, or Cog, shows up here. Have you connected the dots now? What side do you think you’ll end up on when it’s your turn?”

Leaf shook her head and wrote her question quickly, repeating it, “How do Goblin Sharks catch their prey?”

“You’re avoiding the question, Leaf. There’s nothing you can do to stop the cycle, kid. That’s the problem with humans. They’re all too prideful of themselves to learn that one day, there will be nothing left of them…” Leaf started to shake.

“Answer my question and then I’ll answer yours.”

“Hmfp! Fine then, they dislocate their jaws and launch it forward…it’s quite horrific. Now answer my question…”

“...I don’t know. I personally hope a toon, especially with this,” Leaf revealed her speaker.

“Whatever that does, it won’t help you! Or any of ToonTown, in fact,” Prethinker smugly approached the board. “My machine will mind control every single Toon with a single shot! I took inspiration from H. Lesser! He’s trying to make a Toon called…Iris or something and whatever…” Prethinker smirked. “I would actually test it on you if I had built it! But, y’know, I just made the blueprints. Admit it, you’re useless! There’s nothing you can do to stop me!! Heh! Hehehhe!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Prethinker cackled loudly.

Leaf had genuinely started to get annoyed with Prethinker’s smugness. Hm…he seemed prideful of these plans. Leaf looked back over at Prethinker with a dumb smile on her face.

“Hm? What’s with the dumb smile? What. Are you going to try to escape the room or something? Believe me, you’re not leaving,” Prethinker’s pupils shrank, giving off the vibes of a crazed smile.

Leaf shook her head and instead turned to the plans and then looked back at Prethinker. “...” The direct eye contact unsettled Prethinker. With the discomfort shining in his eyes, Leaf raised the eraser and erased the entire board, her smile growing wider as she did.

The look of absolute horror came onto Prethinker’s face.

Leaf smiled and waved goodbye, “Bye-bye, Brian~!” Leaf ran up the stairs and left the room before Prethinker even had a moment to realize she was gone.

[h34rtizuku]

𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔶

i hate angst without happy endings, but i’m also self-destructive. therapy is expensive, but ripping your own heart out and bearing your insecurities into a full-fledged story for you and others to read? free.

warnings : angst without a happy ending, insecurities, jealousy, mayhaps toxic behavior?? idk if ur looking for a good time, this isn’t for you bestie <3 also i might misspell uraraka’s name wrong a few times, i’ll fix them later :*

being quirkless had its advantages. with such a small number of us being born without powers, it left a lot of the mundane jobs open.

which is why, as soon as pro-hero deku opened his agency, i came to him with the request to be his assistant.

on the daily, he had people coming up to him asking for internships or to be his sidekick. but he never had anyone ask to be his assistant.

being the number one hero often meant that every day things, things one may take for granted or deem insignificant became just another list of things on the busy man’s to-do list.

therefore the appeal of having someone file his paper work and run to get him coffee in the morning was great enough to hire me.

and i was glad he did.

this is what i have been working for since i was a first year in high school. after watching the freckled boy break limb after limb to defeat his opponent.

yeah, i saw it as irresponsible and stupid that he had to break his own body to save others. but i was willing to overlook it.

my one goal during my remaining years of high school and up to college was that wherever that little green haired boy went, i would follow.

and that reigned true as his assistant. i would shuffle after him like a duckling following it’s mother, wherever he needed me.

if he needed me in a briefing to take notes for him, i was there. if he needed me to put in overtime to help him file the last minute paperwork, i was there. if he wanted a particular pastry from a specific bakery half way across town, i was there.

izuku was never mean, or demanding. always thanking me profusely for anything i ever did for him. leaving me to remind him that this was my job, and any way to make his life easier was good enough for me.

but maybe i should have held onto those blushed cheeks and crinkled eyes as he thanked me for the coffee that he didn’t even know he needed, for a just a little bit longer.

you know how a child will open a new toy on christmas and it quickly becomes their new favorite toy? playing with it non-stop, taking it wherever they go. until one day, they grow bored of it and never touch it again as it grows dusty at the bottom of their toy bin.

i know izuku wasn’t doing it on purpose, he didn’t have an intentionally mean bone in his body. i guess you could say, some other toys came around and took his attention away.

and that toy, was a particularly difficult mission in collaboration with uravity’s agency.

the two spent long hours cooped in his office as they went over notes, plans, intel, etc. until the conversation melted into talk about the old days and the wonderful memories they had together in high school.

i went to work the following days with absolutely no energy to handle whatever would be thrown at me. i hadn’t been able to get much sleep, as when i closed my eyes the only thing i could see was the look in his eyes when he saw her.

my patience was already thin given the events of the most recent week, but when the printer started malfunctioning leaving me unable to fax the papers izuku wanted me send, you could say that was the first domino.

i swatted and kicked and pressed any button on the stupid machine. telling myself i was merely trying to get to stupid thing to work, but deep down i knew that the printer was just my temporary punching bag. an outlet to unleash my anger and emotions onto something instead of letting them fester inside me.

so when one of izuku’s sidekicks came by, giving a snarky comment about my behavior, i was able to brush it off with a roll of my eyes and an equally snippy comment back.

but as the hunk of plastic remained steady in its plan to ruin my day, the lack of sleep and lingering resentment started to bubble within me once more.

i heard footsteps behind me and a joking voice say, “having a bit of trouble are we?”

if it weren’t for the white hot anger buzzing in my ears i may have been able to identify the voice before i lashed out on them. but we already established this was not my day.

so as my hands moved to clutch the machine below me, most likely to restrain my abuse to merely verbal instead of physical. i spit out, “listen i’m fucking trying okay? so how about you get off my ass and do something useful.”

i turned around to face who i thought would be another sidekick sent to push my buttons. but i instead came face-to-face with the green haired man himself.

eyes blown wide, mouth agape in shock, a light blush dusted under his freckles as he fought to handle the situation the best way he could.

but i beat him to it with a deep bow and an endless flow of apologies, opting to only blame my anger on the malfunctioning piece of junk behind me and not the several other reasons i was plotting murder in my head.

with a gentle smile and a soft chuckle he placed his hand to the back of his head, rubbing at the baby jade hairs of his undercut. “i see. bad days happen to the best of us.” he replied, his voice like honey.

i became drunk on the minor interaction he was giving me, bringing me back to the beginning days at this job where we would spend late nights trying to keep each other awake under the only singular yellow light as we finished paperwork. or where sometimes he’d invite me to spend lunch with him as he felt he’d enjoy the company.

i got lost in the intricacies of his face as he tampered with the printer. thin eyebrows furrowed in concentration, bottom lip captured between his thick scarred fingers as he muttered to himself.

i fell in a trance, locked on the slope of his button nose, his gemstone eyes, and chubby caramel cheeks dusted in freckles.

he looked essentially like the same boy i saw on the screen all those years ago, yet matured and hardened by the realities of life.

i wanted nothing more than to reach out and protect him any way my small quirkless body could. to be there for him the same way he was for everyone else.

he eventually got the printer to work with a boyish smile on his face as he told me that despite the good roughing up i gave the machine, he was able to locate and handle the issue. “next time, skip the punching and come find me, yeah? i’ll help with any problems you face.” he joked as he made his way into his office to resume his work.

i didn’t know it was possible to fall harder for that man, but he proved with every day of his existence that the impossible didn’t apply to him.

i was finally able to get some sleep the next few nights as my eyelids filled with the blush on his cheekbones and his gaze of concentration.

but my trip to cloud 9 didn’t last very long as the occasional meeting with uraraka became trips to her agency, and occasional meetings in civilian clothes to civilian places, like coffee shops and corner stores.

to anyone else, those would read as dates. to me, they read as dates. but izuku assured the gossiping sidekicks that it was strictly professional ~ nothing more, nothing less.

i knew that i would end up with more fits of restlessness and sleepless nights as i pictured the two of them laughing over a cup of coffee. so i sought out a replacement.

a moment. a look. a sentence.

anything directed at me that would choke out the ugly thoughts and images my brain would show me of the two of them together.

so that afternoon as i brought him his lunch, i placed the box safely onto the table beside him as he continued skimming through the papers littered across the desk.

he muttered a small ‘thank you’ but it wasn’t enough. as my hand moved to place his drink that i held in my other hand next to his food, a different idea popped in my head.

my hand moved faster than my brain could register what it had just planned to do. squeezing just enough for the lid to pop off and slip from my fingers to tumble into his lap.

as soon as the liquid and ice hit his lap he flew up from his seat and away from his desk.

my hands flew up to my mouth as a string of apologies fell from my lips. eyes watering in guilt as they moved around the room trying to locate something to soak up the mess with.

“i am so sorry, my fingers slipped and before i knew it i had lost control of the cup. i-i can’t tell you how sorry i am.” i rambled as i took my blazer off to wipe at the wet stains starting to form at the bottom of his teal suit.

“hey, hey, hey.” he said softly, taking my tinier hands into his large and battered ones. warmth enveloped my clutched sticky hands as he gently urged me to stand from my crouching position in front of him.

“it was an accident. no harm, no foul.” he said with a soft smile.

i should feel bad, as it wasn’t entirely an accident. but the warm and gentle look in his eyes made what little guilt i felt crumble away.

his thumbs rubbing soft circles to my skin as he worked to get the tears to stop streaming from my eyes was enough to get me to sleep like a baby for a good 2 weeks.

until it became a cycle. he would spend too much time around uraraka, and then i would do something all in the name of garnering his attention back on me.

was it wrong of me to do, to take advantage of his kindness? to take advantage of the fact that he was naive to my true intentions? maybe.

but i felt i deserved it. i felt i deserved to be looked at the same way he looked at her.

i wasn’t any different than she was. with the way she used her big brown eyes to pull him in. or the way her cute behavior made him blush. or the way her sweet way of talking made him laugh.

i can’t be her, or compare to her. so i found my own way around it. and no one could fault me for doing so. they just couldn’t.

at the end of the mission, uravity decided to throw a party in celebration of their win. a nice formal gathering, with everyone she had involved.

when izuku pulled me aside one late night to tell me that he was extending the invitation to me felt akin to a marriage proposal.

i wasn’t involved much in the case, merely being used as the one who provided them their lunch on their long meeting days. or filing and organizing the paperwork and notes that they would compile. i wasn’t out in the field, breaking bones like izuku or saving lives like uraraka.

i didn’t deserve to go, but i didn’t care. izuku had invited me personally and damn it, i was gonna be there.

yet, i shouldn’t have gone.

i shouldn’t have spent the hours on my makeup. i shouldn’t have enlisted the help of my best friend to do my hair as i gushed about how izuku had personally invited me, how he was the most perfect man ever, and how i was undoubtedly in love with him.

i shouldn’t have spent the week leading up to the event going from shop to shop trying to find the prettiest dress that was just the exact color of his eyes. i shouldn’t have spent about half my paycheck on said dress when i found it.

i shouldn’t have decided to face my fears and step out of my comfort zone to join a group of heroes that i knew were old classmates of izuku’s as they whispered about something that clearly was a raving topic.

because then i wouldn’t have heard how izuku was planning on confessing to uraraka. i wouldn’t have heard how this mission caused old high school feelings to rekindle. i should have known my place.

and that was far away from here, from the hero scene. i should have grown up to be an accountant or a chef.

when my father took me to get that checkup when i was 5, to confirm that there truly resides no quirk inside me.

i should have left it at that.

when i was riding my bike that day as a first year and i saw the group of boys huddled around a screen as they tuned into the u-a sports festival, i should have kept riding.

as maybe it would have saved me a lot of pain.

i backed away slowly, heels tapping against the tile floor as i hurried out of the building.

i didn’t realize how suffocated i felt until the chilly autumn hair brushed my face and into my lungs.

my whole body felt hot, i felt numb. i stumbled onto the sidewalk as i looked into the dark azure sky glittered with stars.

the tears finally spilled from my eyes as the stars muddled together into a messy blur. my stomach swirled and tensed as pit of nausea sunk in my stomach.

my chest heaved as it tried to process the crisp cold air into oxygen, but my throat was too tight to let much in.

i gasped and sobbed as my back hit the brick behind me, my legs wobbling unable to carry my weight much longer.

i slid into a crouched position as my tears mixed with the black of my mascara. streaming in pools down my cheeks, neck, and chest.

in the midst of my sobbing and heaving, i called my friend who was still at my apartment awaiting details of that night when i came home.

knowing it was far too early for me to be calling her she picked up the phone with confusion. it didn’t take much words from me, not like i gave her much, to convince her that she needed to come pick me up.

as she hung up the phone, my hand slipped from my ear, falling limp to my side as i placed my head into my other arm resting atop my knees.

this was inevitable and i knew it. no matter how many ways i was able to manipulate a sweet glance from him, it didn’t mean anything.

izuku was nice to everybody. sweet to everyone. kind to anyone.

but with her, it was different. he treated her that way, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

they had years of memories, of laughs. they were perfect for each other, both smart, and kind, and always looking to help others. never acting selfishly or for personal gain.

they shared soft touches like they did old stories. they looked at each other with the same respect and admiration.

i was wrong. uraraka and i are nothing alike. she didn’t have to beg izuku to look at her like she hung the moon, he did so without asking.

unbeknownst to me, as i was manipulating izuku into these fabricated moments of gentle gazes and kind words, i was manipulating myself.

lying to the deepest parts of me that knew that this wasn’t real. that i wasn’t her. that he didn’t think of us the same way.

to him, uraraka is an old friend, who views the world the same way he does, who shares his same passions, who built her quirk to do some good within this world.

to him, i was a coffee-getter, the girl who knew his lunch orders like the back of her hand, the girl who filed his papers. the quirkless little fangirl who practically begged him to give her a job under him.

i heard the metal door open and snap shut announcing that someone was now outside with me. however, i just assumed it was a party-goer stepping outside for a smoke or a phone call so i didn’t bother to look up.

i also wasn’t in the mood for if the person happened to be a drunk girl who was ready to become my therapist as she saw me crouched on the sidewalk wishing to become one with the cement and simply cease to exist.

“there you are, i was wondering where you went?”

i would have taken the amateur therapist over this.

the voice belonged to izuku, dripping with sugar and default kindness.

if i could become one with the bricks just a little bit faster that would be great.

“hey, are you alright?” his tone became worried but i still didn’t dare to look up from my arms.

“do you feel sick? did something happen? do i need to take you home?” there he goes, into hero mode. ready to drop anything to help anyone facing the slightest of inconveniences.

“please just leave me alone.” i mumbled, throat tight and voice wavering as i try to hold the tears that still remain to fall.

“what did you say? i didn’t quite hear you.” he said softly, gently setting his large hands onto my exposed shoulder.

they should feel like welcoming warmth, but instead they felt blistering hot as i shoved them away as quickly as i could.

“i said leave me alone.” i said, slightly louder as i no longer was stuffed in my arms and knees.

he immediately saw the mess my face was in, i could tell by the way he quickly reverted fully into deku.

“hey, what’s wrong? whatever it is, i can help. didn’t i say you could come to me whenever you ne-“

“oh my god just stop! i can’t take it anymore.” i snapped, finally able to look him in the face.

but not for long as i saw the same look on his complexion as the first time i snapped at him.

“you’re too fucking nice. leaving you vulnerable for people to take advantage of you. giving them a reason to be selfish.”

“i dont-“ he tried to start but i cut him off.

“i don’t need a hero, izuku. there are people you just can’t save.”

as he worked to wrap his head around what was happening, my friend pulled up in my getaway car.

i bent down and grabbed my purse, but before i could fully escape this night, izuku grabbed my wrist causing me to stare into his eyes.

now lit aflame with desperation, “please just tell me what’s wrong. let me help you.” he encouraged softly.

but i wasn’t going to fall for it, not again.

i wasn’t gonna be played for the fool as i took the soft look in his eyes for anything but the gaze of a hero hoping to add another save to their statistics.

“god you never know when to quit!” i yelled as i yanked my wrist back. “and i hate that i-“

loved that about you?

no, love that about you.

i shook my head, thankful that for once my brain caught my actions before i spilled and made a mess again.

i walked quickly to the car, opening the passenger door almost as fast in hopes that within its metal sanctuary i could finally escape this hell.

“y/n- i-“

“mr. midoriya.” i just about whispered, my energy long since drained.

he laughed gently and i cursed the way my heart squeezed a little at the sound.

still head over heels for the angelic sound.

“you haven’t called me that in a long-“

“i quit.”

“w-what?” he muttered in disbelief.

i wouldn’t believe it either, not after the way i came to him nearly 4 years ago saying i would even be willing to clean toilets if he asked me to, so long as i got to work for him.

“i quit.” i repeated.

“you don’t mean that.”

he’s right i didn’t, not really.

hot tears started to dribble as my lower lip puckered in a sour quiver.

“no i do, sir.” i shook. “i will send someone to collect my things on monday.”

and with that i closed the door.

“drive.” i whispered to my friend who after a moment of looking at me, trying to read me, silently put the car into drive and started forward.

leaving izuku behind to stumble after the car, mouth muttering, trying to form any sort of sentence or sense.

but i couldn’t see him, knowing not to look at the mirrors situated on the side of the vehicle.

for they too are liars, as objects in the mirror are farther than they appear.

*** my little blue bitch working overtime

🧼 also mayhaps “soap” by melanie martinez fits this story… unintentionally ~ but if i’m wrong it’s cuz i haven’t listened to it in a while

[secretlynestaarcheron]

Nesta Ballerina AU ~ should I write a one shot??

One shot:

Nesta stretched her arms above her head, before plopping them back on the comforter, yawning as she opened her eyes squinting at the beam of light peeking through her tiny window. She rips of the comforter, throwing her legs at the side, a new wave of excitement rushing through her.

She throws on a sweater and slips on her slippers as she pushes open the door of her room and enters the kitchen, living room, office, dance studio combo. Mor was already up, moving around the kitchen, bopping her head to the music that was playing from her phone.

“It’s show day!” Nesta yells.

Mor jumps turning to see Nesta. “It’s show day!” Mor screams back, jumping up and down. They had moved to New York together four years ago, going to school to be professional ballerinas, and then auditioning for company after company until they finally got in. “Celebratory pancakes?”

Nesta smiles as she slides onto one of the bar stools as Mor slides a plate in front of her. “Any news about the boyfriend?” Mor asks, stuffing a fork full of pancake into her mouth.

Nesta frowns, reaching forward to grab the jar of syrup, squeezing a little bit on top. She shrugs, “It’s not a big deal, he called me last night,” Nesta says, pushing her food around, “He couldn’t get off work, some important meeting tonight. He’s going to try and come next week.”

Mor bites her lip, reaching over to squeeze her hand, before pulling back and going back to her pancakes. “Issa okay, it’ll be so busy today, you won’t even miss him,” she replies. “I think almond milk lattes from Beans and then we head to the theater early and check everything out.”

Nesta nods, she was going to need all the coffee she can get, their director Amara wanted to do a few more run throughs of the show to touch up any mistakes before the first showing. Nesta’s ankles already ached from yesterday's rehearsal.

“So Rhysand and Azriel are both coming,” Mor responds, looking down at her phone. “Feyre is coming straight after work. I think she’s bringing her loser boyfriend, Tamlin or whatever. Elain and Lucien found a babysitter so they are coming. I haven’t heard from Amren.”

Nesta rolls her eyes. “I called her yesterday, she's coming. She just wanted to pull on your strings.”

There’s a knock on the door and Mor twirls as she moves towards it, Nesta pulling her phone out from her pocket to see a text from Cassian. Good luck tonight, beat all those other bunheads. She smiles, he meant well but as a professional hockey player he didn’t really get the whole non-competing thing.

“I think these are for you,” Mor sing-songs. Nesta quickly hits send on her message back and looks up at Mor who was holding a boutique of flowers. Nesta jumps out of her seat and grabs the flowers, looking for the card. Cassian.

She smiles, “Take a pic of me? I’ll send it to him,” she responds.

Mor grabs Nesta’s phone and snaps a picture. “Okay, now hurry up,” Mor replies, “I don’t want to be late.”

Nesta rolls her eyes as her friend pushes her into her room. “You don’t want to be late to get to the theater early?” she deadpans. Mor gives her a look before slamming the door. Nesta chuckles, sending the picture to Cassian. I’d rather have you but the flowers were a nice touch.

She hits send before putting on her leotard, slipping on a skirt and sweater, she slides on some boots before heading back out into the living room. “Look at this sweet video Elain sent me on snapchat,” Mor says, handing me the phone, it was Nesta niece in a tutu dancing around the living room. “I can’t believe it’s real, I feel like someone needs to pitch me and I’ll wake back up in small town Prythian, Rhode Island in Night Court Dance Studio.”

“Stars, remember how many times Feyre would get yelled at by Morta Queen?” Nesta asks as she grabs her dance bag and wallet and they make their way out of their crabby little apartment and down the narrow hall towards the exit. “She was so uncoordinated.”

Mor laughs as they move down the stairs and onto the busy street, squeezing through the people towards the coffee shop between their apartment and the theater. “And how Morta Queen used to bring her cat to rehearsals, she always wondered why our tights would always be ripped up,” Mor laughs as they clumsily fall into the door of the shop.

“Nesta! Mor! How nervous are you?” the barista behind the counter asks. “I can’t wait to see you guys perform, got my tickets for two weekends from now.”

Mor smiles and goes on a rant about how excited and nervous she is while Nesta can’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by so many people that loved and supported her. She looks down at her phone, Cassian hadn’t responded to her last message but he was probably in his meeting.

She was hoping to call him before the show but as Mor thrusts a coffee in her hand and pulls the other out the door she knows that's a long shot. The halls are already bustling with chatter as they move towards their dressing room. Tutus and leotards littering the hall, the halls foggy from hairspray.

“I told you we would be late to be early,” Mor says, giving Nesta a pointed look as they move into the dressing room. Two girls are already inside breaking in their pointe shoes. One of them looks up and smiles, “Amara is already on a rampage, I’d get into practice gear quick,” she warns.

Nesta downs her coffee before grabbing her pointe shoes from her bag and following Mor out onto the stage.

A long draining couple of hours later, Mor and Nesta make their way back into the dressing room falling onto the couch. “No....energy,” Mor groans, her face pushed against a pillow. “My blisters have blisters.”

“Tell me about it,” Nesta says, falling into one of the makeup chairs and rubbing her feet. “Amara said we have ten minutes to get dressed and then be in hair and makeup so I am-,”

“Going to go call the boyfriend?” Mor ques, pushing herself into a sitting position, giving Nesta a taunting smile. “I’ll grab you a snack and bring it to you when we meet up for hair and makeup.”

Nesta grabs her phone and touches her chest. “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?” Nesta exclaims as she leaves the dressing room, shoving through the line of girls in puffy tutus until she's in the back alley. She hits his contact and then puts the phone to her ear.

She bites her nail as she listens to it ring. His voice booming through the speakers seconds later: You’ve reached Cassian Monte, you know what to do.

She pauses, wanting to hang up and pretend she never called. It was a pretty new relationship, they went to high school together but never spoke until two years ago when they met at some fancy dinner her school threw. She had absolutely hated him at first as he kept popping into her life.

She finally let him take her out on a date the last time he was in town five months ago. “Hey Cas, um, I am about to go on soon so I thought I’d give you a call-,” she pauses biting her lip. “I hope your meeting went well today.”

There's a pause and she feels like she should say no but she just hangs up. Blowing at a strain of hair that slipped out from her pony-tail. She still had a whole army of people coming to support her. Besides he had sent her flowers this morning, it’s not his fault that he had meetings.

She looks down at her phone as if he was about to call her but when she’s only met with a black screen she swallows and pushes her way back into the building, walking down the crowded halls and into her dressing room where she changed into her costume before finding Mor at a vanity.

“Hey lovebird,” Mor says, as she leaned forward in the mirror to apply mascara. “You didn’t talk long.”

Nesta gave her a tight smile, as she took the seat next to her, two crew members immediately moving to begin working on her hair. “Yeah, well, I have an opening night to get ready for!” she exclaims.

Mor smiles, handing Nesta a stack of cards, “Well wishes from the friends and family,” Mor says, turning away from her to begin speaking to the hairdresser as Nesta fingered through different cards from her friends and family.

I am super excited for you both but did you really have to seat me right next to the love of my life and her douche boyfriend Tamlin? Stars, someone needs to punch him. -Rhys

You both have been working so hard for this, I am so excited for both of you Nesta eyes squint as the handwriting becomes more scribbled and tinier. Sorry. Elain started crying. It’s Lucien. She wants me to write that she is proud of both of you and that you are both role models for Lucy. -Elain and Lucien

“Curtain is up in ten minutes, everyone!” a producer yells, clapping her hands, Mor turns to smile at Nesta.

“This is it,” Mor comments.

The show is a blur of motion and music, Nesta can’t express what she’s feeling when she steps forward to take her final bow. She is speechless when she exits the theater and her friends and family surround her, Elain pulling her into a tearful hug while Feyre gives her a boutique of flowers.

She turns to see a tall man that she had never seen before that Rhysand was causally glaring at. “You must be the boyfriend, Tamlin, we are grabbing drinks after-,” Nesta says. Feyre who stood next to him shakes her head, her eyes wide as if trying to give Nesta a message.

“Drinks?” Tamlin asks, turning to Feyre who immediately stops shaking her head and laughs. “No, uh remember I mentioned having a thing in the morning, so I can’t stay out late.”

Tamlin nods, “I’ll grab us a taxi,” he muses as he moves towards the street.

“You were beautiful, Nes. Mom would have been proud,” Feyre says, pulling Nesta into a hug. “If I ever say I am going on a date with him ever again please knock some sense into me.”

“Feyre, ready?” Tamlin calls.

She rolls her eyes as she moved towards the taxi. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Feyre yells at them before Tamlin shuts the door and sits in the passenger seat.

“Ick, who sits in the front of a taxi?” Rhysand complains.

Mor bumps his shoulder. “She wouldn’t go on all these terrible dates if you just admitted how you felt already,” she exclaims.

“I have, it’s her turn,” Rhysand retorts.

Nesta rolls her eyes at their stubborness before turning to Elain and Lucien. “One drink? The bar I am thinking is just around the corner,” Nesta says, pulling at her sisters hands as if to guide her.

Elain chuckles turning to look at Lucien who shrugs. “We did tell the babysitter we would be out late,” she says and Nesta let’s out a cheer as she wraps an arm around her sisters shoulder and guides them down the street.

A few of there cast mates were already there celebrating. Elain and Lucien only staying for one drink, while the rest kept going strong.

Nesta catches Mor staring down at her phone before smiling. “Wanna head back soon?” Mor calls over the music.

Nesta nods feeling the exhaustion set in. They didn’t have a show tomorrow but they did have rehearsals and then a show Sunday. She probably should stay out too late.

Mor disappears before coming back minutes later a mischievous smile on her face. “I actually got asked to go home with that pretty blue eyed brunette over there, do you mind?” Mor asks.

Nesta follows Mor finger, it was one of girls on the makeup crew. She wasn’t Mors usual type. “You deserve your happy ending, go for it,” Nesta says. “Text me or call me anytime, okay?”

Mor nods pulling her into a hug. “Text me when you make it home, I might have a package waiting on the doorstep mind bringing it in for me?”

Nesta rolls her eyes but nods, mor was always treating herself to an online shopping spree. She moves through the crowd of sweaty people rubbing arms and onto the almost empty street.

They lived three doors down so it was a quick walk to their apartment. Nesta looks on the doorstep for a package but doesn’t see anything as she slides in the key and twists the knob.

She pauses in the doorway when she flicks on the light and there was a stack of her favorite snacks and a new romcom dvd sitting on the counter, as well as the blankets from both their rooms spread out on the furniture to create a fort.

She raises an eyebrow as she shuts the door, moving deeper into the apartment. Someone in the fort mutters a curse before popping out and giving her a sheepish smile. “You weren’t supposed to be back yet,” Cassian says as he awkwardly gets out of the fort and stands up.

He scratches the back of his neck nervously as he looks at her and she realizes she hasn’t said anything. “I am sorry, is this overstepping? I guess I wouldn’t be too thrilled to have a guy-,”

“No, it’s-,” she pauses as she looks at the fort and she’s the laptop screen beaming through the opening. She drops her bag in the ground and moves quickly to him. She throws her arms around his neck and he tightens his around her waist, picking her up in one smooth motion. “I am just shocked that you're here. No one has done something like this before.”

He smiles as they pull away, she slides down so her feet touch the ground but he’s still holding tightly to her waist. “If you’re tired I get it, you did so well tonight. God, Nes, you looked stunning up there,” he whispers against her temple.

She looks up at him. “You were there? You saw my performance?” She asks with excitement dripping from her voice. She hated being out of the know but Cassian was glad he was able to surprise her.

“My flight was delayed, I almost didn’t make it. That’s why I didn’t answer when you called. I was still up in the air,” Cassian says. “I had to rush to the theater. I was standing all the way in the back, but I could still see you crush it.”

She laughs, pulling away from him and looking up at him seriously. “I missed you, a lot,” she says honestly.

“I missed you too,” he replies, pulling her back into his chest and stroking her hair. When she finally pulls away to shower and change she half expects him not to be there. That her dehydrated exhausted mind created a false reality but she opens her door he’s curled up in the fort waiting for her with a big bowl of popcorn.

Before she crawls in to join him, she looks over as her phone lights up with a new message from Mor. Did you like my package? Nesta smiles sending back a quick response and then crawling in the fort and curling up beside Cassian.

[refriedweeb]

AND WHEN YOU’RE GONE I’M GODLESS (HAWKS + READER)

AN: refriedweeb here! this is a continuation of this oneshot that I did (so if you didn’t read the first one go and read it now!), as requested by @roseanddaggerlarry  ! I’ve had the idea of this spewing around in my head and wanted to get as close to canon!Hawks as possible! So here you go! If you want a part three/to make this a series, lmk!

Tags: angst, fluff, general feelings

word count: 3,443

A side effect of your quirk was that you dreamt the nightmares of those that you used it on. While your quirk was something that was magnificent in its own right, being known as nightmare often became a literal translation for you. It didn’t matter how short of a period you kept someone trapped in their reality-made nightmare, or how severe it was. You dreamt what they saw. And the worst part was that they didn’t go away after just one dream. You’d see them time and time again, blended into the reel of dreams from every person you’d ever fought or used it on. It was an awful feeling, not being able to dream your own dreams, see visions of happiness that everyone else got to when you closed your eyes. All you ever saw was nightmares. All you ever saw behind sleeping eyes was horror. 

The world around you might have been black, in various stages of coming and going consciousness, but there was one thing that stayed the same. It was the nightmare you’d brought out of Keigo Takami’s mind the minute you’d snapped on your promise to never use it against him. It ran through your mind like a child with reckless abandon, a constant loop that you couldn't shake from your mind no matter how much you strained to jump into someone else’s dreams that had taken residence in your mind. It was a violation of Hawks’ trust in you, even if he had been the one to attack you, skewer you with a feather and leave you no other choice. You had known that Hawks’ childhood was anything but normal. The Hero Commission that you both worked for raising him, if it could even be called ‘raising’. Trained as a weapon that was expendable, that served no purpose if it couldn’t deliver results. Wholly different from what you’d had growing up, you hadn't realized how deeply embedded in trauma his entire life was, even when you’d been hooking up. 

Trapped in the nightmare, the first thing you saw was Keigo Takami as nothing but a child. Avian eyes still too large for his head, sunrise colored eyes looking around the blank walls with innocence, curiosity, and the hint of fear. A head full of hair that even in youth had an unruly characteristic to it. Red wings that would become his calling card sitting politely, folded against his back. He was a child that had deserved better, so much better, than what he’d been given. There’d been so much that Keigo had suffered through just for the sake of being a hero, that it would have made sense if nightmare solely revolved around what the Hero Commission had robbed him of with his childhood. 

What you weren’t expecting to see was your place in it. 

You were stood not far off from where Keigo’s tot form was, mirroring that same age yourself. Young, with a skinned knee and gapped smile from the baby teeth you’d lost. Hair in high pigtails and eyes wide with the same emotions sprinting through Keigo’s veins. The tinier version of yourself turned around, and trotted over to him, holding out a sticky hand that had no doubt been dug into a sweet of some kind at one point.

“Hi! I’m (Y/N)!” Came your excitable voice, young and full of life. “Your wings are pretty cool, can I touch them?” Before Keigo’s small, timid voice could even answer, there was a sharp tug on your arm. It caught you by surprise, and Keigo was helpless as a man dressed in a black suit started pulling you away from him. And though you were reliving Keigo’s nightmare, you were experiencing it through both yours and his perspective. “Wait, that’s my friend!” Came your cry, tossing a distressed look over your shoulder as you were both helpless Keigo and the scared child version of yourself.

“Wait...” finally came the small voice, shocking you how sad it sounded for a boy so young. You watched from the omniscient view as the handler that had come for you turned into something vile. With a grin too large and mines of pointed teeth that would have made a shark’s mouth look dainty. “Don’t...” Keigo’s childlike voice was a little louder, but still helpless. “Don’t take her!”

Defiance nestled in Keigo’s throat as he charged forward with his cry, running after you, seeing something only he could see while you were more than content to wander alongside a monster. His hand was outstretched towards you. A smile started to stretch across your features, glad to have this new friend coming with you, and reached a hand out in return. Only to have it sharply slapped away by the handler. You gave a cry of pain as you cradled your hand to your chest, about to cry when you heard Keigo’s boyish yelp of pain. He had been hit in the face, and harder than you judging by the welt of a hand print blooming against his cheek.

“Keigo...” you whispered, though your voice sounded further off, far from where you and your childhood presence were.

Young Keigo looked up at you from the ground, tears running down his cheeks. There was an indescribable pain there, and it ran deeper than anything you could identify with. For such a young child to have felt so much pain... “Kei...go...” you whispered again, extending a hand despite what happened, to cradle his head.

It was then that the scene changed, like the fast forwarding of a movie. The scenery swept past you in an unmarked blur until you settled into a new scene. There you were, a couple of years older and strapped into a chair. What looked like doctors were around you, a large needle filled with a substance of dreamy purple colors in it. They were whispering around you, a background of white noise you couldn’t decipher. Still from that omniscient point of view, you could feel your fear. The unease that gnawed it’s way through your belly running rampant. And there was anger, but you couldn’t detect the source. “Just think...if we can train her to turn her nightmares lethal, the commission would have a trained killer. Trapping someone in their nightmares to the point of heart failure...of fear...” came there trickling sound of one voice. “She could be the best hero the commission has ever produced...a weapon...” was another. “Alright then...inject her.”

Fear rippled our against your skin on goosebumps, and you start to fight the restraints as the syringe draws closer to you. “No!” You screeched, though it comes from the same far off place from before. You’re helpless as you snapped, kicked, and pulled as best as you could. “Don’t do this!” At the very same moment, you heard the overlapping sound of boots hitting the ground in a sprint, replacing the rapid sound of your heartbeat. While being both in that room and not in it at the same time, you saw an older Keigo bursting down the hall, the sound of boots belonging to him. His eyes are narrowed into predator-like focus, his breathing heavy as his wings extended out taking up the rest of the hall. His mouth moved, though he is silent.

“Keigo!” You scream this time, though still too far off for anything to register. His eyebrows narrowed over his eyes and he pushed himself harder. Pain erupted as the needle broke skin, the purple swirl of serum sinking into your skin. It sent a blur of blind pain coursing through your system, but all you could do is scream. Your voice feels raw, but there’s no noise coming out of it. The taste of blood is in the back of your throat, but you don’t feel any. Something collided with the window of the room you were trapped in, and through the overcoming haze you saw that it was Hawks. Anger etched into his face, beating his hands against the glass so hard you swore it shook. You screamed his name again, that same echo off in the distance vibrating through your ears. He screamed yours back, the sound a canon of noise as he continued to beat on the glass. There were tears in his eyes, a righteous fury that took your breath away. He was the source of anger, the need for rejection. You strained against your restraints, doing what you could to fight the wave of darkness that was threatening to overcome you, wanting nothing more than to reach out and take Keigo’s hand.

The world around faded once more, the next scene opening up to you like the beginning credits of a movie. Once the camera focused in you see...Keigo dressed in his hero uniform, cradling something...no, someone. Your heart clutched as it zoomed in closer and closer until you recognize the design of your own hero costume. Keigo wasn’t cradling just anyone, he was cradling you. Through your omniscient point of view, you come to stand just in front of the two bodies, Keigo with his head bowed over you and you...limp. Your head is slumped over his forearm, though your expression is one embedded into your mind immediately. Gone are the pupils of your eyes, the entire eye filled with a black and white continuous swirl, like something a hypnotist would use. And from your tear ducts..there’s blood. It ran from your duct to your hairline. The look in your expression is vacant. The sound of Keigo’s sniffles, the soft sobs, it confirmed what you had desperately wanted to ignore. In this nightmare, you’re dead. And it didn’t take long for you to put two and two together.

Keigo Takami’s worst nightmare wasn’t what happened to him growing up in the Hero Commission, though the elements were there and you didn’t doubt that there would be more glimpses of this nightmare for the rest of your life that you hadn’t seen. Keigo’s worst nightmare was someone he loved, you, going through the same thing that he had been put through. Though it won’t do anything, as it’s a dream, you reach out a fragmented hand to touch him. Just as you went to do so, he looks up. He looked directly at you, wet eyes and broken expression. “Wake up.” His words sounded like they were coming from right behind your ear, and you blinked. “(Y/N), wake up.”

You snapped open your eyes and sat up in bed. Immediately, you’re aware of the pain in your stomach, in your arm from where Keigo had impaled you with one of his feathers. The room is spinning, and the air you choked down in order to get some focus on your world isn’t helping. Nightmare. Keigo. Where’s Keigo? Wait, why did that matter? He was a villain, he’d attacked you. The air in the room felt suffocating and you didn’t think you could possibly get enough of it. Your fingers wrapped around the blanket that had been on top of you, only to pause as you looked down at it. This was Keigo’s blanket. As the world stopped rotating at a disastrous pace, you realize that this is Keigo’s bedroom. A place you hadn’t been in for months, if not longer. 

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“You’re awake.” You looked to the sound of the voice, already knowing who it belonged to. But hearing the somber, tentative tone doesn’t change your reaction as you scampered out of bed. The sheets were wrapped up in your legs, and you’ve tumbled out of bed in an attempt to be graceful. The fall to the ground landed you on your injured arm, crying out in pain as you crawled. You’re still in your hero uniform, which means it couldn’t have been long. Right? Right? Keigo said your name, and you heard the flex of feathers as he moved. “(Y/N), stop, you’re injured. Sto-(Y/N).”

You’d grabbed the nearest thing to you and flung it at him. A pillow that had likely hit the ground when you had. It’s easy enough for Keigo to grab, and he dropped it to the side as he looked at you with a stern look. “You’re a traitor,” you spat. The strained tone from your arm is evident, and Keigo sighs. “You tried to kill me! You attacked me!” By this point you’ve kicked your legs free from the sheets. 

“Kid,” Keigo says, his tone one of warning. “Listen to me.”

You’re on your feet, injured arm clutched in your hand. There’s fresh blood, but you don’t pay it any mind. “Why should I? So I let my guard down long enough for you to finish the job? Go off with your best friends in the League?” Keigo took a step forward. You shook your head. “If you take one step closer I’ll do it again.”

The reaction of pain that registered in his eyes before quickly falling away, lets you know that at least for now, the distance between you is on your side. You didn’t care that you were shaking, or that the images of Keigo as a child, wobbly and teary-eyed were burned into your mind. As far as you were concerned in that moment, Keigo Takami was your enemy. “It’s not what you think.”

“You kicked me into a wall and then had the nerve to stab me in the arm.” You grit your teeth. “How else is it supposed to look, Keigo?”

Keigo looked to the side, avoiding your glance. Out of fear of you using your quirk again or because he actually felt shame over what he’d done, you didn’t know. Told yourself you didn’t care. But that image of that broken little boy...it haunted you. Keigo ran his hands through the windswept mess of his hair, and sighs. “I can’t...I can’t tell you.” His mouth hung open and he closed it before talking again. “There are things I can’t...I have to keep private.”

“If you think for one second, I’m not going to tell the Hero Commission that you’ve switched sides-” You started, but Keigo cut you off.

“They know.” It’s your turn to be breathless. Keigo looked back to you, the miserable and lonely look back in his eye. There must have been a question in your eyes, because he repeated himself. “They know. They asked me to do this. To be a double agent.”

“You attacked me like it was real.”

Keigo’s eyes dropped to your arm, and on instinct you tried to hide the fresh spot of blood that had appeared. “I had to.”

“Keigo I almost died because you were trying to kill me.”

“I would have never let yo-” Keigo stopped short, his tone full of anger at the idea that you thought he would ever let anything happen to you like that, taking a draw of breath in. You feel his fear, and your mouth hung open just slightly. “I wasn't expecting you to use your quirk on me. You promised you wouldn’t.”

Keigo dropped his eyes. He wanted to know what it was you’d seen, though he couldn’t bring himself to ask. You’d told him about the nightmares that replayed after you used it in the past. The last thing he wanted was for you to look at him with pity because you’d seen his nightmares. Keigo never talked about his emotions, too numb to them because of the things he’d done. The lack of love he’d felt throughout his entire life ever since he’d been whisked into the Hero Commission. For so long he’d been seen as a weapon, a tool to use. He hadn’t been seen as a human being in so long, and then there’d been you. Dropping into his life at some silly hero convention with a mischievous look and it’d been a face he hadn’t seen in years.

A face that he hadn't been able to save all those years ago.

He’d been shocked that you hadn't remembered anything, or rather, wouldn’t. But seeing you...not knowing that you didn’t remember...it made Keigo want to get close to you all over again. To protect you a second time around where he’d failed the first. If you had even a notion that his nightmares were more than just nightmares...Keigo didn’t want to be responsible for the meltdown, it was more guilt and weight on his shoulders that he didn’t think he could handle.

“I thought you were going to kill me!” Your voice was raspy from the hands he’d put around your neck, and you don’t doubt it’s bruised. Your mind wandered to a much darker thought than you wanted to acknowledge. If he’d been willing to go toe to toe with you like that, how many other heroes had he fought? Were any hero deaths related to him?

“I could...” Keigo rasped. “I could never do that to you. I tried to warn you, kid. I told you to stay out of it.”

“I can’t do that, you know that. We’re...I’m a hero, Keigo. I can’t let villains escape.”

“It had to be me. Dabi..Shigaraki...Toga...they would have killed you, you wouldn’t have stood...it would have been bad, (Y/N).”

You took a step back, feeling as if you’d been slapped. “You don’t think I could have done my job, is what you’re saying? So you toyed with me instead. To protect your mission when they’re running around reckless and hurting others! Killing us!” He dropped his gaze, his hands clenched. “This is why you cut me out, isn’t it? Because the Hero Commission set you up for this. Because Keigo Takami is the only one who can do any of the complicated jobs and he just can’t ask for help.” You didn’t now when you got so emotional, whether it was from the pain wracked in your body or because of the escalating situation with Keigo. 

“I can’t let anyone help me. Someone...” you “Could get hurt.”

“Fuck you, Keigo.” You needed out of his place. There’s too many reminders of everything Keigo Takami in that space. Of nights in that same bed. How he’d told you he wanted nothing more than that right there. And now to hear the fact that he was a double agent, that he couldn’t have even shared that intimate of a detail with you. It was because he didn’t trust you. It was because he didn't think you were capable. “For your information, I can take care of myself. I have always been able to take care of myself.” Your body protested as you moved, energized with the anger from feeling so demented by someone you cared about. Keigo gingerly raised an arm as you made your way towards him, perhaps in an attempt to stop you. To continue the conversation. But as far as you were concerned, it was over. “Don’t you dare touch me.” Your voice shook, not even caring that your vision was blurred from the tears you were doing your best not to let fall. You stomped over to the door, grabbing onto the handle of a place you’d always thought was incredibly lonely.

At least now you understood why. 

“You know what, Keigo...I get that you went through some awful things growing up. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. But I trusted you, I loved you, and I thought there wasn't anything too high for you to reach.” You scoffed, feeling one tear roll down your cheek. “Apparently there isn’t anything too low for you to go after, either.” With that you wrenched the door open and slammed it shut behind you. For a moment, you leaned in against that door, the heels of your palms pressed into your eyes as the weight of emotions and pain and the awful reality that was both sank in. You couldn’t stay there for long, you knew that. You wiped the wetness at your eyes and pulled yourself together as best as you could, and left.

On the other side of that door, Keigo stood where your words had rooted him. His hand still raised, he stared down at his palm. There’d been so much he had wanted to try to say, to explain. But your anger had always been enough to plow down a city. Yellow eyes that usually burned so bright, were flattened down to a stormy sunrise. Keigo felt that guilt in his heart. That loneliness that he had only began to feel erased once he had you back in his life. How did he begin to tell you about what the Hero Commission had made him do in becoming a double agent when he couldn’t even tell you the truth about you? He would have denied any chin wobble as he looked down at his open palm, felt the overwhelming emptiness in his place start to settle in on his shoulders as it always did when he came home to it empty. “See you around, kid.” he breathed.

The knot in his stomach told him it wouldn’t be the last time he saw you. 

[scullyy]

Birthday Boy

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: It's AJs' birthday! The kids have gathered around for another rockin' hootenanny!

A/N: brUH I’ve been working on this for agesssss and it’s finally dooooneeeeee ~~and it’s still not my best but I TRIED and perfection doesn’t eXIST-~~ it’s a VERY belated birthday gift for @bluebutterfly1 cause she’s been wanting this foREVER. SHE'S AMAZING OKAY-

so yeah this is based off a deleted scene from TFS where it was AJ’s birthday and what not anyways ily and enjoy x

-

It was hard being a kid sometimes, not having the words to describe how you're feeling, not even knowing what it is you are feeling was also a bummer. AJ had hoped he would know when he got older, especially by Clem's age. He would know so many more words and feelings and extra stuff about the world. He had already learned so much just from Aasims' teachings.

But Aasim hadn't taught him why everyone was giving him strange looks this one particular winter morning.

Clem was the first, she wasn't as good of a liar as she thought she was. There was this...odd smile on her face. AJ recognised it as the same smile Louis makes whenever he tries to get out of trouble. Ruby, Violet and Aasim had immediately zoomed off into the school once breakfast was done, only running out to share little whispers with Clementine. Omar was cooking something in his special big pot, more focused than AJ had ever seen, but he refused to tell the kid what it was.

He hadn't even seen Louis! Not even during breakfast! The only other person outside was Willy, still stationed at the watchtower. AJ's curious mind and talkative nature tried to squeeze as much info out of the young boy, but he was able to keep his mouth shut for once.

It all led him to sit beside Clementine in an unusual silence for the two, one that didn't sneak past her. Nothing AJ did - or in this case, didn't - could slip by her radar. "Why the long face kiddo?" Clem bumped her elbow into his shoulder, attempting to steal his attention.

AJ picked at a speck of dry skin on his hand, sporting a very obvious pout. "Did I do something wrong?"

That caught her off guard. Her leg trembled from both the cold and her deeply-bundled nerves. Keeping a secret, especially one she knew AJ was going to love, was tougher than she thought. "What makes you think that?" Her eyes moved rapidly from AJ and the school doors, keeping her crossed fingers hidden beneath her thigh. The other kids better be done soon...

"No one is talking to me. Like when I shot Marlon and everyone got mad at me. I didn't like that and I don't like this." He kicked at the air, his little legs still too short to touch the ground.

"I'm sure everything is fine-"

As her hand reached out to hold him, he pulled himself away, jumping straight to his feet. "Don't say that! I know you're lying!"

His desperation near broke her heart. She could never say no to his cute face, damn him. Heaving a sigh of defeat, she gave in. "Okay fine, follow me." The other kids would surely be pissed at her for letting on too early, but she would rather that than an upset AJ.

And boy did that remove the frown from his face. He bounded around her as she got her crutches in order, kicking up sparkling snow behind him. "Where are we going?"

"The music room-"

The young boy had bolted off before she could finish, reminding her of another young boy she used to know when this all started. "Slow down, kiddo! You're not the one on crutches!"

His eagerness outweighed Clem's command, which was usually his law. He could hear muted talking from within Louis' music room, a few giggles here and there too. He crept closer to the door, utilising his amazing ninja skills. His tiny hand gripped the tinier doorknob, opening the door just a crack to find...huh?

The doorknob was set free from his hand, which had now fallen loosely by his side as he took one quiet step into the room. "What's this?" AJ disturbed the other kids, finding them in compromising positions. Louis was on his very tip-toes, tying some blue tinsel around the fireplace, Aasim and Ruby were lighting the last of the candles as Violet was gently moving the gramophone back into it's original place.

It was a real life record scratch moment.

"Oh shit," Louis broke the silence first, drawing everyone's line of sight to the intruder. He chucked the last of the tinsel up onto the mantle in a careless manner before throwing his hands into the air. "Happy birthday AJ!"

The other kids all dropped what they were doing, raising their hands in line with Louis. "Happy birthday!"

Said child stood there with his mouth hung wide open, taking in the sight. "What?" It was the only word racing through his mind.

Louis kneeled down to his level, sporting one of the biggest smiles AJ had ever seen. "It's your birthday little dude, gotta celebrate it big time."

"My...birthday?" Whatwhatwhatwhatwhat-

Willy tugged on the thick tinsel that ran from the fireplace to Louis' piano. "We managed to scrounge up some decorations from the drama class."

"And we re-used the banner from the party back when these guys got kidnapped." Ruby pointed to the banner above the doorway. The original message 'We're getting them back' had been scribbled out and somehow replaced with 'Happy birthday Alvin Junior'.

AJ spun around, his eyes bouncing between all the bright decor; the flickering candles, the weird fuzzy stuff on the piano, it was all so new. "You did this..for me?"

A slightly puffed Clementine finally made her way into the room, smiling with pure glee at how well her friends decorated the space. She stood beside her boy, trying to decipher what he was feeling. "What do you think AJ?"

"It's awesome!" He threw his hands up into the air.

Louis looked between his friends, all of them sharing evil little smiles. "So, who wants to go first?"

"First in what?" AJ questioned, nearly vibrating at wondering what else they could have planned.

Clementine gently nudged him forward with her crutch, pushing him into the centre of the room. "Gift-giving."

"Gifts?" He continued to question. So much new knowledge in such a short span of time.

Louis dead-panned, merely wanting the festivities to begin. "If you keep asking questions we're going to be here all day. Of course, we got you gifts! It's a thing you give someone to show appreciation or celebrate, and today little dude we're celebrating you."

"I'll go first since my gift is the coolest," Violet was guided over to AJ by Ruby, her smile never wavering. From behind her back she presented a roll up parchment, the corners slightly ripped.

AJ pulled it open and blinked rapidly, taking in the faded faces and text. "Green Day? What's that mean?"

"They were a really cool band, before everything happened," Violet nodded to the outside world. "I figured you could hang it up in your room. If I ever find one of their records, you'll be the first to listen, little man." Slowly guiding her hand to the curve of his shoulder, she gave him a gentle punch.

AJ was still hung up on why a day would be green but appreciated the thought from Violet nonetheless. "They look cool...but what's on their eyes?"

Green Day was a rare source of joy from Violet's sordid childhood, a fleating sense of nostalgia washed over her as she came to realise it'll do the same for him.

Ruby skipped closer to AJ once Violet took a seat on the piano stool, thankful that she got to go next. "I figured since you've become an A+ gardener, you could have this little guy," She brandished from behind her back a small pot, with an even smaller plant inside. "If you take good care of it, he'll grow big and strong."

"Just like me!" AJ was near bursting at the seams; the flower was rather dainty, small and barely purple, yet ready to flourish.

She gently pinched his cheek, gushing openly. "Just like you," Ruby bounced away on her feet, feeling another sense of pride at impressing the tot. She patted Aasim on the back, which turned more into a push when he didn't catch onto her actions. "C'mon, it's your turn now!"

Aasim shuffled over, not bothering to hide his gift. He cleared his throat before passing it to AJ. "Here dude," In his grasp laid a tightly bound book, his name carved into the leather cover. His precious journal that he guarded so dearly the night they first met.

AJ took it gently, treating the book as if it were made of glass. "But it's yours?" He questioned, remembering their first encounter. How times had changed.

Aasim shrugged, unsure of what to say. Dammit, he had this all planned out beforehand! "It's ours. Think of it as 'Ericson's History Volume One', you can finish it off if you like."

"This is cool, I hope I can write as good as you." AJ was so captured by his friend's neat handwriting, he didn't notice Aasims' sincere smile.

"My turn!" Willy yelled, pushing Aasim out of the way in the process. His gift was the only wrapped one, albeit it was wrapped in old textbook pages. A tear in the paper revealed a small piece of wood shining through. "It's a slingshot! Mitch and I used to hit walkers with them all day, now we can!"

AJ hadn't even finished tearing the paper away, but his heart still soared. "That's cool, I wish Mitch was here." He added quietly.

Willy lowered his head, gently fidgeting with his own fingers. "Me too."

Their friend's passing left a forever space in every room, an unnerving emptiness that will never go away.

"Okay Willy, my turn," Omar butted in, wanting to steer the conversation back to the joy. He handed AJ a wooden spoon with a neat little bow wrapped around the handle. "It's my best spoon. You can use it to help me cook dinner tonight."

Louis whipped his head to Omar, shooting daggers from his eyes. "You never let anyone help!"

Omar kept a strong smile as he turned to his friend, unphased. "No, I don't let you help because unlike you the kid actually listens to instructions."

"I listen, just like to take a more...casual approach to cooking." He shrugged, finding a sudden interest in his shoes.

"If by casual you mean undercooking the fish, then sure."

Louis poked his tongue out at his friend before sauntering over to AJ, ready to present the greatest gift of all fucking time. "I figured it's time for an upgrade, say goodbye to that crusty knife," Louis whipped out a small bar stool from behind him, holding it out in front of the boy.  "I present...Stoolio! Get it? Cause it's a stool."

"Nope!" AJ beamed brighter than Clem had ever seen, despite the joke flying way over his head. Louis just had that effect on people. The stool was heavier than it seemed, as it immediately hit the floor when AJ took ahold of it. The faded wood declaring the weapons' age, AJ traced the deep cracks with his fingers. "I think I'll call it CJ, Chairles Junior, like my name."

"That's a much better name. It's strong like you too. It defeats monsters, protects people and looks super cool." He purred, selling the gift as only the best of the best.

AJ looked between his new weapon and Louis, letting the weight of it settle in his small palms. It was stronger than his little knife, though not as easy to hold as his gun. But if Louis could do it, so could he. "Sounds more like you."

Clementine noticed the hitch in Louis' breath, both their hearts thumping from the young boys' sentiment. Louis could feel his heart slip up into his throat, thumping faster than his breathing could keep up. "Uh, wow, thank you. It's both of us."

If only AJ was aware of how much his statement meant to Louis, how he would hold onto it during his weakest hours. If that kid could believe in him, he must be doing something right.

Louis cleared his throat, choking back a quiet sob as his heart settled back down. "There's one final surprise, from all of us." He hopped over to a box beside the ladder, dragging Omar over with him.

The boys reached into the box and began to lift something of great weight, as they struggled to keep a tight grip. "Just don't ask how we got it." Omar heaved, forgetting just how little muscle he truly had.

From the box emeregd something AJ could only imagine in his wildest daydreams. A...giant...Disco Broccoli!

The tot stood in pure disbelief, his jaw hanging wide open. "Is that-"

"Oh hell yeah it is," Louis sneered, maybe just a little more excited than AJ.

The boys set it down besides the dusty fireplace, with Omar wiping his brow. "You like it?"

AJ wandered closer, getting a better look. It was certainly Disco Broccoli, despite there being a hole in his cartoon hand. He had the cool glasses and everything! But he looked...funny. "What...what is it?"

Louis clasped the tots' shoulder, it was always a fun venture showing him something from the old world. Seeing the wonder in his wide eyes, made the hassle Louis went through to get the damn thing worth it. "It's a pinata, bro! You hit it and stuff is supposed to come out."

Omar tapped the side of the pinata, being greeted by a soft echo. "There's nothing in it, but it's still fun to hit."

"You can use Chairles Junior there." Louis was nearly bouncing at the idea as he handed the stool leg to the birthday boy, ready for the absolute carnage he was about to witness.

AJ gripped his new(ish) weapon tightly, eyeing down the funny looking Disco Broccoli. "Awesome."

Clem watched from the piano as AJ tried to lift the stool above his head, nearly tipping over from its' weight. Her thoughts drifted to a dream she had, Lees' words at the forefront of her thoughts. "Wanting to give him a childhood, but knowing what it takes for him to survive."

"You okay, Clem?" Louis bumped his shoulder with hers, breaking her away from her memories.

Nodding slightly, Clementine hoped he couldn't notice the tears in her eyes. "Yeah, thanks for this. It's amazing."

"No problemo, it's good to see him smile."

Clem continued to watch AJ laughing with his friends, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "He's been doing that a lot since we've arrived here."

Louis continued to gaze at her, despite her not noticing. "You both have."

-

Just as it had always been, Clem and AJ sat side by side together on the steps of the courtyard, appreciating the rare beauty of the sunset. The sky a gallery of purely blue and purple. Clem disrupted the silence first, after having spent a lengthy amount of time remembering Rebecca and Alvin, wondering if they would be proud of their young boy. "Can I admit something?"

AJ curiously turned to her, awaiting with an eager tap in his foot.

"I don't actually know if today is your birthday," She pouted. "I know it's at the start of winter, but that's it. There were no calendars, no way to check the date. I just kinda had to guess every year. I also don't know how old you actually are." If she had to guess, either six or seven. Without access to a calendar, all these years trying to keep track of the fleeting months grew tiresome and redundant. Each day was the same, a date made no difference. Hell, she wasn't even sure of her own age anymore.

"Maybe I'm a thousand years old!" He bounced like the truly giddy child he was.

Clem laughed openly into the chilly air. "Sure thing, Grandpa." She pushed at his shoulder before looking back at the sky, knowing deep within her gut that Alvin and Rebecca were smiling with her.

They remained in a balanced silence for a while, until AJ turned back to her. "I don't think it matters. I get bigger and stronger every day, no matter how old I am I'll always protect us."

Clementine wrapped her arm around him, pulling him in close the same way she always had and the same way she always will. "I know you will, forever," She pressed a firm kiss to the top of his head, smiling into his thick hair. "Wanna know what we're having for dinner?"

"What?"

"Beans with apple slices."

"BEANS!"

[bluepallilworld]

What does Mimosa think of his siblings datemates?

(I hope you don't mind this gif thingie, was half-asleep when I did it 😆)

(Sorry for the late answer btw)

Mimosa : Heya!

It's true that some of my siblings have datemates ! I think it's the case of Mirage, Apollo, Star and... Malignance !

I'm sure I can remember all the names ! *Deep thinking* So Mirage, big Mirage not little Mirage ! Mirage is with Ursula ! Apollo is with Rooth! Star is with Nova! And Malignance with Butterfly ! Yay, I didn't forgot this time! *Proud*

I'm gonna begin with Ursula ! I know Ursula the most I think... She even gave me socks! With DUCKS on it. Don't tell the others but I think Ursula is my favorite non-sibling person! She worries a bit too much sometimes... But that's okay it's better than no worries at all, no? I guess the last time I saw her, it wasn't the most pleasant experience...

*eyes got lost* I lost against the perfidious tiny blades...

She's always up to do things for others! So it's great if she sticks around. More happy people!

Rooth is funny! He talks funny and he has a funny tail! I wanna play with it! Can he lift me up with it?

*excited* I don't know him well but perhaps if I ask with cherries?

*suddenly dead serious* But I need to explain to him he can't eat me before anything, it seems he tries to do that with people he likes. I saw a mark on Apollo's neck. It's great he succeed to stop him! It's a weird habit. I'm gonna have to stay cautious.

I saw Nova the day with the shouter babies. I don't know why everybody call them shouter. Is it their species? But their parents are squeletons ? And they look squeletons ? Perhaps they are tinier than baby squeletons ? Little Mirage isn't as small after all...

So I saw Nova after the whole thing. But I don't think he saw me. He was looking really happy. But weird happy! As if he had done something and it worked well.

I don't have much to say on him apart from the fact he makes Star happy I guess. It's enough for me to like him!

*Looks at his fingers* So Ursula... Rooth... Nova... Ah! Butterfly!

Butterfly is a nice name, don't you think? Someone showed me a knife saying it was a butterfly... So I borrowed a pencil and a paper and showed them what's a butterfly ! 🦋

So now they won't go around saying knives are butterflies anymore ! It could have been a problem... Like in the movie I wasn't allowed to look at, the guy shouted "Watch out, a knife!" and the other guy dodge the knife alright ! But if it's " Watch out, a butterfly !"... I don't think the guy would dodge a butterfly... Right?

I don't know a lot about Butterfly, Butterfly the squeleton not butterflies! Even if I'm sure I don't know a lot about butterflies either...

But I like her pretty clothes! She even has a bow with a kitty! Kitty! I would love to know her more. She looks fun to be around! But I'm a bit scared of Malignance's smile... Malignance is not at all like big sis' Shine and I don't know why but I can't really have fun when they're around. *Sad face*

But it must be my fault, I should try more! I wanna be more friend with sib' Malignance ! And after, with Butterfly too! I saw... Bow... ? I think someone called Butterfly like this last time. I saw Bow glitched once and I was wondering if she would let me touch the glitches ? If we are friends? It must feel funny! Glitchy, glitchy, glitchy glitch... 🎶

I think I already said a lot of things... Perhaps I should stop? Don't wanna make you bored! *Giggles*

Bye!

Apollo, little Mirage and Rooth belong to @silentsquidsinner

Mirage belongs to @ari-cuno

Ursula belongs to @shinechermont

Star and Nova belong to @ginganinja

Malignance, Butterfly and Shine belong to @creative-firebug

I hope I didn't make mistakes and that the tag don't bother you!

Have a great day!💕

[cheshiremadd]

His Jacket

AO3

My @mlsecretsanta gift for @hynuri-post! They have some lovely Marinette Wears Chat Noir art on instagram, and I just had to write our boy's reaction to the outfit. Enjoy!

In which Marinette loves to tease her boyfriend.

-

She was testing his patience. His self-control. She should know better. Self-control is necessary for the Black Cat. To properly harness the powers of destruction. She’s trying to break him and it’s not going to work.

It’s definitely not going to work.

He side glanced Marinette, eyed the bell at her neck, then quickly back to his food. Food that she brought. There’s more of his favorites than not.

Not. Going. To work.

Plagg hadn’t stopped laughing at him since she unzipped her oversized jacket (his jacket, that’s his jacket, when did she steal it?). Not too loud, thankfully. He’s pretty sure he can only hear it because he’s so attuned to the kwami’s movements. He really hoped that’s the case, because identity reveal by laughing kwami equals Angry Ladybug. Not that an identity reveal by other means wouldn’t also equal Angry Ladybug. Not the point. The point is, Plagg was making fun of him, and he shouldn’t, because how else is he supposed to react? Marinette wore that outfit to school, obviously designed to hit his buttons. All of his buttons. Buttons he didn’t even know he had.

His jacket, which might as well be a short dress on her. Shorts just long enough to make it past dress code. Tiny gold bell on a black choker that wraps around her slender neck. And when she unzipped his jacket? A cropped white t-shirt, the phrase “Claws out!” adorning the front in electric green. Her tiny waist and tinier belly button taunted him.

The cat in him itched to complete the look. It might be silly. It is silly. No one would even see it, even know. But he would know. And she would know. That his scent marked her as his. That the hickeys he would place marked her as his. And she could place a few on him. Mark him as hers. They’d have to be below the collar, but they could work with that.

The jingling of bells caught his attention. That’s right. How could he forget the cat ear buns that she tied with tiny gold bells. He could lay his head in her lap and bat at them, get them to make that oh so satisfying tinkle.

“Adrien?”

He looked up, startled out of his reverie. Marinette, Alya, and Nino stared back, with varying levels of concern on their face.

“You okay, bro?”

Adrien scratched the back of his head, self-conscious. “Sorry! Lost in thought, I guess. What’d I miss?”

“We were just saying how super nice it was of Marinette to bring us these awesome lunch boxes!” Alya filled him in with a wink. Adrien was sure she was trying to send him some sly look, but he couldn’t quite puzzle it out. “And how she even customized them with our favorites.”

He turned a bright smile toward the current bane of his existence. “Yeah, it’s great! Thank you so much, Marinette! You’re really amazing.”

She pinked at his words, pleased with the praise. Kwamis, she was adorable. It’s going to kill him.

He forced his attention to his lunch again. It was mostly gone. Which was strange because he remembered eating exactly none of it.

Alya brought back the topic that had largely dominated their conversation all morning. A photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir. She’s holding a bouquet of marigolds to her nose and he’s peeking in a plain white paper bag.

“I’m telling you, Alya, they have a purely professional relationship.” His secret girlfriend would know, after all. He could practically hear her eyeroll.

Nino brought up the main point of evidence. “He did bring her flowers.”

“Edible flowers. And she brought him cookies! Ten euros says they were just trading snacks.” Marinette’s bells jingled more as she leaned back in her chair.

The Ladyblogger’s eyes gleamed. “How do you know she brought him cookies, hmm, Mari?” She glanced around, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “Did a certain kitty cat tell you that?”

Marinette looked stunned for a moment. “I- I just assumed, I guess. That bag looks like one of ours.”

Alya squealed and hit her hands on the table in her excitement. Thankfully, though, she still kept her voice low. “Are you telling me that Ladybug shops at your bakery?”

“She should! It’s the best bakery in the city.” Adrien cut in. He sent Marinette a soft smile.

“You really think she’s going to eat those, dude?” His best bro didn’t seem convinced. Nino’s nose was scrunched in slight disgust. Marinette shrugged, unbothered.

“Why not? Marigolds are yummy and citrusy.” She fiddled with one of her hair bells closest to him. It glinted in the sunlight as she made it ring just to hear the lovely sound. “Oh, is that the time?” She started packing up her things. “I’ve got to get to the library. The rough draft for that Literature paper is due in three days!”

He knew for a fact that she’d finished that rough draft last night. Going to the library, where there existed so many nooks and crannies he could make use of? And Marinette looked so sweet and teasing. She was practically daring Chat Noir to come out and play.

“I’m sure she’d say yes if you asked her on a date.” Well, yeah, I figured that out. They’d been on lots of dates. Sure, most of them were in her room watching movies or playing video games, but they counted. But Alya didn’t know that. Adrien put on his best Confused Model face.

“What do you mean, Alya? Marinette and I are just friends.”

“Hey. Don’t think I didn’t see you undressing my girl with your eyes.” Alya wagged her finger. “You better get to it, before someone else snatches her up.”

She followed after Nino, who she’d apparently shooed off. Well, shit. He didn’t realize he was being so obvious. It was hard to turn down the attraction, though, when she showed up to school like that.

Speaking of. He had a princess to find.

-

Adrien caught a glimpse of her between the books. The bookshelves had no backs, which allowed him to see into the next aisle over. She had pulled a book off the shelf and was flipping through it. He quietly went down the aisle next to hers, the one her back was to, careful to lighten his footsteps. He was directly behind her when her head started to turn. He immediately went into a crouch and waited the long moment before she turned back. He paused when he reached the end of his aisle, hidden from her between the two. He could hear the thunk of the book being replaced. He waited a moment. Then chanced a peek around the edge of the bookshelf.

Marinette was facing away from him, walking the direction he’d come from, her fingers trailing along the books. He was momentarily stunned by the picture she made. In fact ...Adrien pulled out his phone, made sure it was on silent, and snapped a picture. He smiled goofily. That was definitely going to be his new background.

He had to act fast now; that photo had cost him. She was a little more than halfway down the aisle. He sacrificed some lightness of foot to go faster, and had his arms around his prey before she could react. If she even would. She had to have been expecting him.

“Chat.” Her voice was a soft kiss, expressing her pleasure at being caught.

“Hello, Princess~” he purred out.

She relaxed into him with a sigh. He knew her well enough to know that her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth curved into the softest of smiles. She singsonged her response. “You’re going to get caught~.”

“Not this sneaky cat, purrincess. I made sure no one was around.” He pressed a kiss to her crown and brushed on hand against her bare midsection. Tested her boundaries. She didn’t react beyond a hitch in her breath. He pressed another kiss to her head, this time closer to one of her cat-ear hair buns, and slid his hand more fully onto her waist. The skin-on-skin contact tingled, but he made sure to go slowly, gave her every chance to pull away or tell him ‘no’. She didn’t.

“Do you like my outfit? I wore it just for you.” Did he like it? Did he like puns? Chocolate? Nibbling on her bottom lip?

“You already know that answer.” He nosed the hair bun, then completed his journey to her ribbons. His teeth caught the tail of one bow. “When did you steal my jacket?”

Her hands sunk into his hair and he had to fight the purr that was rising up. There’s magic in Marinette’s hands. Those hands can bring him out of his worst moods and turn him to a lapful of melted catboy. “I worked very hard on my hair this morning; I’ll be cross if you undo it.”

He stopped pulling quite so much, but kept the ribbon still, giving every impression that it was his plan all along. His thumb traced circles into her smooth skin. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you not answering the question.”

“A girl’s gotta keep some secrets.”

He’d let go of the ribbon and was just beginning to press some kisses on her delicious looking neck when they were frozen by a loud squawk from behind. Whoever it was could probably see enough to identify both of them. Adrien closed his eyes as he accepted the inevitable.

Goose pimples raised where his breath met Marinette’s neck. He suppressed a whine as her hands left his hair, and forced himself to let go of her waist. She caught his wrists before he could fully retreat, kept his arms wrapped around her like a hug that he was fully on board with.

“Agreste, when I said to ‘get to it’, I did not mean molest her in the library. Unless...” Alya gasped. “You… you! How long have you two been dating?!” Adrien and Marinette had now turned enough that he could see Alya clap her hand over her mouth. She looked around and lowered her voice. “Is it a secret because of Gabriel? Shit, did I just ruin it?”

Surprisingly, Nino did not look as gobsmacked as Alya. “Nah, babe, look at the sly smirk on Nette’s face. These asses have been playing us!”

Marinette broke first. She cackled, and tried to muffle it with sleeve-covered hands. “Ha! No bad puns for a week!”

“Awww, come on, Princess!” Adrien let go of her and bent over, head in his hands, sighing deeply.

“So-rryyy~ You lost~” She singsonged. He peeked through his fingers. Marinette was in full gloat mode, doing the same little dance like when she won at video games. Hmm...keep watching? Or die theatrically?

He completed his trip to the floor and lay like a starfish across the aisle, groaning loudly all the while. He made sure to leave her in his viewpoint. Alya, arms crossed and foot tapping, and Nino, looking mostly amused, were beyond her.

“Okay, you two yahoos, what is this about?” Alya couldn’t quite hide her own amusement.

“We were going to tell you. Until someone insinuated that I couldn’t keep the secret. But I knew that if anyone gave it away, it’d be Mr. Can’t Keep His Hands to Himself over there.” Marinette radiated smugness worse than Plagg immediately after their Reveal. Adrien let out another pained groan.

Nino shuffled a bit, getting comfortable against a bookshelf. “I hate to tell you this, Nette, but you lost as soon as you wore Adrien’s jacket to school. I knew something was up then.”

Adrien sat up, breaking his Dying Pose (that no one had paid any attention to, did he need a new Dying Pose?). Marinette stopped victory dance and stared at Nino. “But, but you didn’t know. I didn’t give it away like Adrien did.”

“It was pretty obvious that you were pushing his buttons.”

“Thank you!” Adrien exclaimed. “I thought I was going to die when she waltzed into class this morning!”

“Ha! I bet! Walking in, looking like she was wearing nothing except your jacket!” Alya wrapped Marinette in a hug. She put on a faux weepy voice. “Girl, I am so proud of you for using that sex appeal! And seeing her babies together! Mama’s heart is so full!”

Marinette didn’t reciprocate the hug, only stood slumped over. “But I don’t wanna speak in only cat puns!” she whined.

“Baking and sewing puns are also acceptable, Prrrrincess.” Adrien’s voice was gleeful. She only responded with crying noises. Her exaggerated loss was as cute as her exaggerated win.

“Eh. I’d think you both lost,” said Nino. He shrugged his shoulders at the look of betrayal that Adrien shot him.

Marinette’s nose did an absolutely adorable crinkle. “We both take the penalty?”

Her best (civilian) friend left an arm around her as she shook a finger at Nino. “I agree. Nino kept it to himself, and then Sunshine spoiled it separately. You,” she pointed at Adrien, “can only use Cupcake’s Pun Snobbery and she,” she poked Marinette’s belly button, causing Marinette to squeal and pull away, “must cram as many puns into her conversations as possible.”

“Cat puns,” Adrien corrected.

Alya nodded. “Cat puns.”

Marinette used her own ‘Dead Inside’ face. “Purrrfect.”

[letosmauddib]

Steve Rogers x Reader (smut)

WARNINGS -> SMUT!! SMUT!! SMUT!!

(IF YOU ARE NOT INTO THIS PLEASE DO NOT READ! thank you<3)

(This took me forever to write so please give it some love! My requests are currently open!)

Her fingers pushed her hair back behind her ears as she glanced over herself in the big mirror. Steve had gotten back a few days ago from a long mission-trip in europe. And although their welcome-home sex had been spectacular. She wanted to change things up a little, even if she hadn’t worn a plaid skirt since she was in private school.

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle nervously to herself as she tugged it up higher. She was wearing an even tinier white front-tie shirt, a pair of knee high white socks. For a second she felt fidgety, maybe this was too much. Steve hadn’t seen her yet, she had ordered this lingerie outfit the second day after he left, drunk off wine and feeling lonely and horny. She ran her fingers through her hair one more time and gave herself a reassuring glance before making her way into the library/office space.

Y/n had made a habit of knocking before entering just in case he was on an important call or a video chat meeting “Come in baby.”

She opened the hardwood door and peered in, he was busy typing away on his laptop.

She stepped in and closed the door behind her, he was wearing a grey sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. They had gotten back from their morning walk to get coffee and he still hadn’t changed into his comfy clothes. She felt a little silly for a second as she made her way over to him, taking a seat on the chair in front of his desk. He was still typing away as she rested her hands on the table.

“What are you thinking about?”

Steve asked, as he gave her a quick glance and turned back to his computer. He didn’t seem to notice his girlfriend’s sexy outfit yet.

“Whatever you’re thinking about.”

He chuckled at her comment.

“Are you almost done?”

She asked, glancing up at his pretty full lip and his gorgeous blue eyes

“Mhm, just need to send out an email. What’s up?”

“I’m bored and I want you to play with me.”

She said with a pout as her fingers played with a strand of her hair.

His typing slowed a little as her words sunk in.

“What did you have in mind, baby?”

She stood up, pushing the chair back noisily.

He stopped typing all together, glancing over her. Steve’s demeanor changed almost immediately. She took a seat on the edge of the desk, her thighs spread slightly. He ran a hand through his hair and gave her a soft smile.

“Did you need something today Y/n?”

Her eyes glanced over his hands that rested on the desk, he was calling her by her first name on purpose. It was weird to hear but it turned her on slightly.

“Uhm yes, sir. I- turned in a paper late last week and I really needed to get full credit on it to get an A.”

“Y/n, I can’t make an exception on late work, it was in the rubric.”

Her cheeks felt warm as she gave him a soft pout.

“I really need an A in your class sir. Your class is the only class I have a B- in.”

“Y/n, it’s almost the end of the year.”

“I’ll do anything Professor Rogers. Please I need an A.”

“Y/n—I..”

She was playing with the little bow at the top of her thigh highs. Steve’s cock felt heavy in his jeans.

She leaned in closer to him, taking his bearded face into her hand.

“Please, Professor.”

He let out a breathy sigh: “You’re such a good girl in my class. Aren’t you Y/n?...” She nodded in agreement. Pretty eyes entranced with his.

“Maybe we can get you that A, how does an extra-credit assignment sound?”

She nodded excitedly, a big smile spread across her face.

“Sit right in front of me.” He said as he closed his laptop and placed it behind him on a shelf.

She shifted over so she sat right in front of him on his desk.

His thigh slipped between her legs, she absentmindedly encased his thigh between hers. To which his fingers slipped to her knees to spread her thighs open.

“Did you want me to write another paper or maybe do some stuff here in your office? I’ll do anything for an A. Professor Rogers.”

“I know how I can get you that ‘A’sweetheart. How about you do a few little things for me and we’ll call it even for that A+..there’s a catch though sweetie.”

She nodded eagerly in agreement.

“It has to stay between us baby. We wouldn’t want anyone to get jealous that I have you extra credit and no one else right?”

She nodded in agreement, hands smoothing down her plaid skirt.

“Of course, Sir.”

His hand slipped up to touch her exposed thigh.

She felt weak as it rubbed up and down slowly, she giggled as it slipped up towards her undies.

“Professor, I—“

Her fingers slipped around his hands.

“I’ve never— I haven’t. I’m shy.”

“It's okay.” He said as he reached the front of her lace white panties.

“You’re already so wet for me baby. Can’t wait to break you in.”

She shuddered as his fingers brushed up against her.

Before she could relax into his hand.

He stood up and pushed his chair back; Steve reached over and grabbed the pillow from the armchair adjacent to his desk and placed it on the floor before sitting back down.

“Get on your knees for me baby.”

She complied and sank down between his spread thighs, the heat between her thighs felt better as the cold hardwood floors touched her folded legs.

Her lips trembled as his hand slipped onto her cheek.

“I’m guessing you’re a little nervous, but you know what we’re doing right?” She nodded, cheek pressed against his hand.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before sweetie?”

Her cheeks got warm nervously as she shook her head.

“It’s okay to be nervous. I’m here to help. Go ahead and unzip me.”

She did as told, reaching over to unbutton and unzip his pants with trembling fingers.

Her cheeks felt hot, she was a little embarrassed at how much she was turned on by Steve’s immediate commitment to the role play.

He stood up to pull his pants down to his ankles revealing his black boxer briefs. He pulled his pants off completely and threw them to the side. She reached up and slowly slipped her hand onto the outline of his erection.

“Go ahead & take it out.”

She tugged down the waistband of his briefs, his cock hard and heavy.

He took it in his hand and gave it a thrust and against his hand.

“Go ahead and touch it.”

She wrapped her fingers around it, he let out a breathy sigh as he looked down.

Her full breasts practically spilling out of her top, he wondered if she was wearing a bra under.

“In my mouth sir?”

She asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Naughty girl, so eager for me...”

She blushed bashfully.

“Go ahead sweetie.”

She sat up, her arms resting on his thighs as she slowly licked the tip of his cock.

“Good girl.”

His voice raspy and breathless. His hand reached down to gently palm her soft breast. Y/n let out a muffled moan glancing up at him with eager eyes.

“I know you like that pretty girl.”

He thrusted his hips forward a bit, watching her grip his thighs for support not wanting to pull away no matter how much she struggled to keep him in her mouth.

His hands gently slipped into her hair tugging just enough to make her squirm.

She pulled away, licking away excess spit or precum.

Steve pushed her hair back behind her ears before gripping her waist and picking her up letting her sit on the desk in front of him. He tugged off his sweatshirt Steve’s hand pressed in between her thighs and up the tiny skirt, feeling her wet warmth.

“Look how ready you are for me angel.” He tugged the insignificant piece of cloth down her legs, and then her panties down to her ankles. He watched her kick the inferior clothing away and press her thighs together. “Take the shirt off for me, baby.” Y/n nodded and untied the bottom of her shirt before unbuttoning off the rest. She slipped out of it and aimlessly threw it to the side. She watched as he stood up from the chair and kicked away his jeans and briefs. His hands were quickly on her sides as he positioned her on his lap. Y/n giggled as he pressed his lips against her shoulder: “You’re tickling me.” He smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek. She gasped as he lifted her up, gripping his cock in his hand.

She winced, feeling the tip of his length against her wet cunt. “Fuck...” Steve moaned out feeling her warmth. Her face buried against his chest as her fingers gripped the back of his neck. “Feels so good sir.” “Yeah baby? Taking it like a good girl..” “Harder daddy please.” His hips thrusted up into her causing her to let out soft breathy moans. Her nose pressed against his neck, as his hands guided her hips.

“Kiss me please...” she whined needy as she wantonly countered his hip movements. He gripped her hair in one hand and pulled back gently. Steve’s lips pressed against hers ravenously as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. She moaned against his kiss, her hands gripping his back. Y/n felt the building of pressure in her lower abdomen, her toes curling in response. She pulled away, letting his nose press against her neck. “Da-Daddy, I-I’m close daddy.” He let out a soft moan as he stood up lifting her up by her thighs. Her legs wrapped around his waist. His thrusts quickened as she gripped his back for support. “Daddy please-please.” She moaned as her knees buckled against him. A wave of pleasure overpowered her, she felt a gush between them as she gripped his neck. He let out a groan as the thrust of his hips stuttered. His warmth dripped out of her.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, sitting back down on the chair. Her breathing slowed as her body trembled with bliss. He pulled out, careful not to be too rough and hurt her sensitive warmth. She let out a moan as her body ached in his absence. Y/n felt warm being held against his chest as her eyes closed just for a few seconds. “Falling asleep on me baby?” She nodded and hugged his neck tighter, her nose pressed to his collarbone. “Did I do a good job sir?” She asked, as her fingers aimlessly played with a small tuft of unkempt dirty blonde hair. “So good baby. You did so good, I think you deserve a warm bath & some cuddles. Does that sound good to you?” She pulled away from him glancing over his warm expression and the feverish blush that spread across his cheeks. She nodded in agreement as he carefully picked her up and carried her into the bathroom.

[silentsnowdrop]

Kayfabe

“Muahahahahaha! Hello, citizens of Havenwood, and MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

There was a general shriek of excited alarm as Cold Snap made his grand entrance in the city square, snow falling from above him and ice spreading from below his feet. Half a dozen spotlights shone on him from above, courtesy of the circling black top hat drones. In the crowd, he could hear camera shutters going off, and he gave an exaggerated bow and wink, allowing his white hair to fall over one pale blue eye as he rose again.

There was at least one scream of “Do you want my number!?”

Cold Snap grinned, then gave a dramatic sweep of his blue-clad arm. “We’ve been a little quiet this year, but don’t worry—Black Hat and Cold Snap haven’t forgotten about you! Tonight, we’ve got something extra fun planned! Behold!”

A massive hat drone descended on the square, hovering above the twenty-foot-tall Christmas tree. Blaring a rather demented remix of Jingle Bells, the hat disgorged a swarm of much tinier hats as Cold Snap let loose with another evil cackle. In less than a minute, each hatling had grabbed an ornament, replaced it, and returned to the motherhat. What was once a tree shining with gold and silver ornaments was now resplendent with white snowflakes and tiny black and red hats. The motherhat reached down and plucked the star off the top, then replaced it with a rhinestone-encrusted top hat that glimmered in the spotlights as the motherhat retreated into the sky and hovered over the square.

“Voila! This year, Christmas is about us! If you’re all very, very good, I might be willing to share some of the cookies, but you’ll have to convince me!” Several of the parents in the crowd gave exaggerated gasps of horror, and Cold Snap paused to make sure none of the kids were crying. Fortunately, it seemed they were all just as into it as he was—one of the kids even mustered the courage to fling a snowball at his face.

The crowd gasped and went quiet. Cold Snap let the moment hang, then flicked his hand past his face. The snow and water wrapped itself around his hand, and he formed it into a ball of ice, allowing it to float over his palm. “Oh-ho, someone out here is feeling brave, are they? Perhaps I should teach you a lesson about what happens when you mess with me!”

“Don’t you dare, Cold Snap!”

Half of the spotlights swiveled over to illuminate the roof of the building behind the crowd. Hovering above it, glowing brightly enough that she barely needed the extra light, was a young woman who looked remarkably like Cold Snap despite being wreathed in a flame aura. Little wisps of flame flickered off her aura as snow hit it and formed a curtain of steam as she landed on the roof.

Cold Snap laughed again, tossing his ice ball and catching it. “Well, hello there, Fireball! Here to stop me?”

“I’m not about to let you ruin Christmas, Cold Snap!” Fireball put her hands on her hips, and a lucky breeze made her red hair fan out for a moment. “Get that hat back here!”

“Or else what, dear sister?” Cold Snap slowly spun the ball in his hands. “Besides, I have a much better idea—and you’re going to have to participate.”

“Or what?”

Cold Snap grinned and tossed the ball over his shoulder. It exploded into powder, and the snow fell quicker for a moment, until a sheet of white hung behind him. One of the hat drones switched from spotlight to projector and aimed its light at the makeshift screen. The image fizzed with static, then cleared to reveal a forest of candy canes.

Tied to the one in front—which also happened to be red and black—was a young woman. The ribbons wrapped over her dark coat matched nicely with the streaks of green in her curly brown hair, and over the ribbon over her mouth, her eyes were wide, almost fearful.

Almost. Cold Snap knew that look meant she was excited.

Fireball paused and shot Cold Snap the briefest confused look. He just grinned, and gave her a subtle wave to encourage her to play along.

The glare she covered her confusion with almost made him check his hair for fire. That had happened a couple of times, and it was never dignified. Fortunately, now at least she had better control as she snarled, “What did you do to Liliana?”

“Oh, nothing—yet. But if you want her back, you’re going to need to search the decorations we took for me. Word is, there was a key to White Hat’s hideout in one of those, and if you don’t find it…”

He formed another ice ball, and shattered it.

As a few of the onlookers screamed, Fireball raised her chin and grinned. “Oh really? Well, unfortunately for you, Cold Snap, I have a line directly to White Hat.” Another motherhat, this one gleaming white and blue, descended from the clouds behind her to hover as a backdrop. “And I’m sure that the good people of Havenwood will be more than happy to help recover those ornaments before you can get through them!”

Cold Snap just grinned and reached up. A hat drone descended and grabbed his hand, and he let it pull him into the air as the hatlings began to scatter from the motherhat again. “Well, I hope you can get them all found in an hour! After that, they’re all going to be back at Black Hat’s base, and you’ll never find them there!”

He let out another mad cackle as he was pulled into the snowfall and vanished from sight. “Good luck!”

~

Natalie Ayers, also known as The Dynamo, stepped out of her hotel bathroom entirely ready to settle in for the night and get some needed relaxation done. Her hair was dried, she had her favorite pajamas on, and her tea was all ready to go.

Unfortunately, the world had other plans for her.

She had left the news on as she had showered. This wasn’t unusual--even when she was outside of her home city, she was licensed to aid in most states if there was a villain active. If something was going down, she wanted to know.

The local news station was focused on a shot of a young woman bound to a black-and-red candy cane with green ribbons. Natalie’s heart lurched as she saw the way fear had made her eyes wide and staring, and she couldn’t tear herself away as the channel focused back onto the reporter.

“Tonight, the villain known as Cold Snap has kidnapped Liliana, Fireball’s girlfriend. In return for her safe return, he has demanded that Fireball locate a key to White Hat’s base, which was concealed in one of the city Christmas tree’s ornaments. White Hat is helping Fireball to locate said key, and they have asked the aid of the populace in searching. There are still thirty minutes left to find the key--here is the map of the search area...”

A map appeared on the screen, and the reporter began to explain what sectors had been searched and what sectors still needed searching, but Natalie wasn’t paying much attention. She was already pulling out her uniform and stripping off her pajamas.

Within five minutes, she was dressed and leaping off of her balcony. The wind around her was cold, but the tech in her uniform compensated for that as she rose above the city and began to search for the forest of candy-canes that had been visible in the photo. She’d never been here before, but that meant very little in the face of her super-enhanced vision. It cut through the light snow that was still falling with little trouble as she searched, praying that this Cold Snap would keep to his word and leave his captive alone for another thirty minutes.

She’d seen the victims of villains who had gotten bored of waiting for their demands to be met. Comparatively, being frozen alive might be a kind way to die.

Dynamo shook off the memories just as she spotted the small park where Cold Snap was waiting with Liliana. It wasn’t far from the city square, and for a moment, she frowned. The only defense he seemed to have was a slightly thicker snowfall over the park, and Fireball should find it easy to find him. Dynamo could even see the other superhero as she flew over the buildings to the south as a bright streak against the dark sky.

Perhaps he had some sort of trigger on his captive, to kill her if Fireball got too close.

Well, Dynamo thought grimly, I’ll just have to stop him before he can use it.

She landed fast and hard, blowing the snow up around her in an explosion of white. As it settled, she found Cold Snap staring at her, one hand absently adjusting an earpiece. He turned and gave his captive a baffled blink, then said, “Hhhhi. Who are you?”

“Dynamo.” She straightened, tilting her chin just enough to make it clear she had to look down slightly to look at him. “Let the girl go, Cold Snap.”

“I…” Cold Snap blinked again, looking even more baffled. “Do you know what’s going on here?”

Either the villain was stalling, or he thought Dynamo was stupid. She decided to take pity on him and assume he thought she was stupid, because she hated being stalled. “You’re a kidnapper, trying to use this girl as leverage. I’m giving you a chance to let her go before I start punching. So let her go, and I take you in with all of your teeth intact.”

Cold Snap gave his captive another baffled blink, and this time she even returned it. Then he held out his hands in what Dynamo was pretty sure was supposed to be a placating gesture. “So, first, she’s not in any danger. She’s playing along here—she actually helped with the planning.”

Cold Snap kept talking—something about “motherhats” and “ornaments”—but Dynamo barely heard him over the sudden rush of blood in her ears. The girl was a traitor. She was playing along, probably to lure in her so-called girlfriend and get her killed.

Dynamo made a fist, feeling her glove creak under her grip.

“—and once Fireball gets here with the ring—SHIT!”

Cold Snap barely avoided her punch by flinging himself backward. He rolled to his feet, then shot off over the snow, leaving shimmering trails of ice behind as he skated effortlessly between the candy canes.

Dynamo launched herself into the air and followed.

“—say again, a rogue hero, probably around Magnifigirl’s weight class—I need back-up, she is not listening to negotiation—“ Cold Snap broke off of his rapid fire speech to dodge another punch, then hit her in the face with a hard-packed ball of snow. It didn’t stop her, but it did disorient her enough for him to slide away and yell, “Look, I promise that there’s really a good explanation for this that doesn’t need you to grind me into paste! All you need to do is stop trying to punch me and—“

He cut himself off to throw up a wall of ice between them as she shot forward. Dynamo hit it hard, pain flashing through her shoulder and ribs for a moment before her healing took over. As she backed away, she could see cracks in the wall, and when he saw them, his eyes went wide.

Then he was off again.

“Definitely not listening!” he screeched. He threw himself out of the way of another punch, giving himself a second of inefficient cover as he rolled behind a Christmas Tree. “Also, she’s a pseudo-flying brick—four inches of ice barely stopped her! She’s way out of my weight class!”

Dynamo paused. On the one hand, she didn’t want to kill him. On the other hand, if she didn’t deal with him quickly, Fireball was going to arrive, and who knew what he was planning for her?

Dynamo nodded to herself, cupped her hand, and allowed a small ball of electricity to form in her hand. She sank a few inches as the energy bled out of her, then recovered and cocked her hand back.

Cold Snap darted out from behind the tree, glancing around wildly for her. As soon as they locked eyes, she let fly with the electricity.

Another ice barrier caught the ball with a grating screech and a plume of steam.

Dynamo hit the wall barely a second later, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

She fancied she could see his eyes widening in slow motion, reflecting off of the shards of ice flying around him. Her senses weren’t actually that enhanced, though, so she only had a second to enjoy the expression before her foot slammed into his side.

His ribs splintered audibly under the impact. The force sent him flying into one of the candy canes ten feet away, which cracked in half. He dropped into the snowdrift in front of it, unmoving.

Then a weak cough came from the snow, followed by a choked sob.

Dynamo rolled her eyes, not impressed by the act, then fished a pair of cuffs out of one of her pouches. She’d drop him at the local hospital after she got his partner in crime trussed up, but she wasn’t about to leave a potential threat free to shoot her in the back.

Then a streak of light appeared from the city, and she sighed. First, though, time to play relationship counselor.

~

“Cold Snap and Black Hat are both out of commission, guys. I’ve got a few hat drones en route to pick up Pain Management and Silvertongue, and Electrode and IQ are going to keep the scavenger hunt going. Fireball, that girl is out of your weight class. If you can’t stall her, get the hell out.”

Estella Mendoza-Rojas, also known as Fireball, waited for the various acknowledgements from the other listening supers, then keyed to a private channel. “Mandla, I am not leaving my brother down there with her!”

White Hat was silent for a long minute. Then he murmured, “Estella, that girl basically pulverized Nilo’s ribs. His healing factor can’t catch up, according to his suit, and yours isn’t any faster than his. Hyun Ki is sitting in the bathroom having a panic attack because if the bosses don’t get there in time, he could very well drown in his own blood. If you even think about fighting her, I will drop a motherhat on you and dump you at home.”

“...understood.” Fireball took a deep breath, but her voice still wobbled as she added, “I’ll try to stall her as much as I can.”

With that, she dropped into a dive, pulling up between her brother and the woman who had attacked him. “Stop!”

The woman stopped, handcuffs dangling from one hand. “...Fireball, right?”

“Yeah, I’m Fireball. Who are you, and why did you attack my brother?”

“I’m Dynamo.” The young woman twirled the cuffs around her finger, then added, “Your brother and your girlfriend were going behind your back and plotting to kill you.”

Fireball had to pause to take in the totality of that statement. “Plotting to kill me? Do you have proof, or a motive?”

“He explicitly said that they had planned this together and that she was cooperating.” Dynamo raised an eyebrow. “And brother or not, Cold Snap is a villain.”

Fireball was going to reply, but paused as motion behind Dynamo caught her eye. Liliana was wiggling one arm out of the ribbons, and she could see a utility knife in her hand.

Fireball shook her head slightly, then refocused. “That’s not...really proof? I knew my brother was planning something, first of all. He had to tell me so I could get there at the right time while he was doing the ornament heist.”

Dynamo’s gaze hardened. “You were in on his plot to terrorize the city? Are you kidding me?”

“I don’t think the city is all that terrorized!” Fireball tried to keep her voice calm, but the exasperation bled through anyway. “Did you even take a look around?”

“The news was all over it! I didn’t need to!” Dynamo took a step forward, and Fireball forced herself to neither step back nor rise into the air. “And now you tell me you were in on it? Why am I not surprised, with a villain for a brother!”

Fireball felt her patience melt like the snow hitting her shoulders. “First, you don’t know what’s going on here! You didn’t even try to look into it! And second, even if my brother was trying to kill me, you smashed in his ribcage! He’s nowhere near your weight class, and you went at him like he was a flying brick too, and now he’s dying!”

As if to punctuate her words, Cold Snap gave a low, pained moan. She turned to look at him and found that he was shuddering, one arm around his chest as the snow around him slowly turned red from a gash in his side. Fireball felt her heart lurch in her chest, and she spun back to Dynamo, tears pricking in her eyes. “Just--look, just go home!”

Dynamo took another step forward and grabbed Fireball by the front of her suit. “I am going to throw you, your girlfriend, and your brother in jail where you belong. And for all I care, you can just rot there like villains deserve--” “Hey, Dynamo! Hands off my girlfriend!”

Dynamo’s grip loosened as she turned, and Fireball shoved her away.

Right into Liliana’s mini-Christmas tree missile.

Liliana’s enhanced strength gave the missile enough speed to knock Dynamo into the snow. As it hit Dynamo’s chest, Liliana’s plant control powers sent its limbs winding around her, until Dynamo was trapped in a cocoon of wood and needles. Fireball could hear the wood creak as Dynamo fought it, and Liliana grimaced as she forced the cocoon to hold fast. Fireball allowed her aura to brighten, ready to rush her as soon as she broke free.

“All right, ladies, why don’t you all...relax a bit,” a gentle, compelling voice called.

Fireball felt some of her tension involuntarily bleed away, and looked up to find Silvertongue and Pain Management descending on a pair of hat drones. Silvertongue’s green eyes were solemn as he took in the scene, and he reached out to grab Pain Management before they could jump off. “I know what you’re thinking. No.”

Pain Management smiled, a slight quirk of the lips that left their violet eyes cold pits. “Come on. She deserves it,” they signed.

“No. Check on your duckling while I handle the rest.” Silvertongue stared Pain Management down, still solemn.

He was rewarded with a sigh and a pat on a tanned cheek. “Fine. For you and the duckling. Give me a minute to ‘talk’ to him.” They punctuated their signs with a tap on their temple and leapt down to the snow at Cold Snap’s side.

Silvertongue paused a moment to clear his throat, then jumped down himself and stood in front of the still-entangled Dynamo. “So you’re the one who crashed Christmas?” he asked in a normal tone.

“You—you’re Silvertongue! You—you got the Painmonger to change sides!” What parts of Dynamo’s face Fireball could see were pale. “I—how? Why are you working with these people?”

Silvertongue raised an eyebrow. “I just gave them and their ducklings the respect they needed. Same with ‘these people.’ Havenwood’s got rules, same as any other city, but heroes and villains are allowed to be themselves without hurting anyone or getting hurt. It might look real, but at the end of the day everyone gets to go home. But you decided to poke your nose in without checking to see if it was wanted or allowed.” He sighed. “And you didn’t try to listen when Cold Snap tried to talk you down, and you decided to hit him with everything you had when he was barely fighting back. End result being that if my partner weren’t here, he’d die and you would be going away for a very long time.”

Dynamo scowled. “I—“

Silvertongue’s voice gained back that compelling tone. “You are going to stay right there, until someone comes to take you to jail. Then you’re going to go quietly, and you’re going to stay there and think about what you did until Cold Snap wakes up and decides if he wants to press charges.” Silvertongue smiled, just enough to look years older than he was. “He probably won’t. He’s nicer than a lot of our heroes like that. But ultimately, that’s up to him.”

Dynamo grimaced, visibly fighting the compulsion. Then, slowly, she nodded, eyes glazing slightly as it took hold. Silvertongue nodded, then looked at Liliana, compulsive edge gone again. “Mind letting her go, Lily-of-the-Valley? She’s no danger.”

“Yes, of course.” Liliana eased her control on the tree, and watched as its branches returned to normal. “...I’m sorry about the ornaments,” she added as one of the festive plastic orbs fell to the ground in several shards.

“Nothing that can’t be replaced,” Silvertongue said with a more gentle smile. Then he glanced over his shoulder, and his face fell back into solemn lines. “Pain Management is ready to heal, it seems. Give me a minute.”

Fireball cleared her throat. “I—Uh, can I help?”

Silvertongue glanced at her. “You can share the pain, but it’ll still hurt.”

“He’s still my brother.”

“So he is.” Silvertongue stepped over and sat in the snow behind his partner. “Put your hand on their back.”

Fireball nodded and followed his example, then bit her lip as Liliana joined them. “Lil—“

“This is my fault too.” Liliana blinked, dislodging a tear, and Fireball brushed it away. “I need to help.”

“...okay.” Fireball nodded, then leaned around so Pain Management could see her face. “We’re ready.”

They nodded back to her, and she straightened and took a deep breath.

The pain knocked the breath right back out of her. She could somehow feel every single one of her brother’s shattered ribs, and how they ground together with every one of his too-rapid breaths. She stifled a scream, then clamped down on her free hand through its thick glove as the pain continued to climb.

Then all at once, it stopped. Fireball gasped in a deep breath, then caught Liliana before she could slump sideways.

I can see why they were a villain, she thought hazily. She sucked in another deep breath, then turned and asked, “Is he okay?”

“He will be,” Pain Management signed. “He said to not hurt you, and if I heal him more, you’ll be sick.” They looked down at Cold Snap, now unconscious, then added, “His healing factor will pick up the slack. Might still be a few weeks before he’s back in, but he’ll be okay.”

“Thank you.” Fireball wiped her face of an unexpected tear, then lurched forward and hugged them. They stiffened slightly, but when she pulled back, they were smiling just enough that it met their eyes.

“Shh,” they signed. “I take care of my own. And he’s mine.”

“She’s yours too, by virtue of being mine.” Silvertongue smiled, patting Pain Management’s rosy cheek. “Now come on. The police are here.”

Pain Management made an exaggeratedly annoyed face, wringing a tired laugh from Fireball. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, you have to. Come on.”

“Fine,” Pain Management signed sulkily. “You two, stay here with Cold Snap and wait for the medics.”

Fireball nodded, and watched as they walked away with Silvertongue. Then she carefully pulled her unconscious brother out of the bloodied snow and settled him on her lap. Liliana curled against her side with a soft kiss to her cheek.

Together they watched the snow fall as the paramedics made their careful way through the candy canes.

~

Cold Snap, also known as Nilo Mendoza-Rojos, awoke to the very annoying sound of a heart monitor beeping. He groaned and reached to swat at it, only to find his hand captured by two slim ones.

“Don’t,” a soft, almost timid voice said. “You...you need to rest, still.”

Nilo’s eyes flew open to find Hyun Ki staring down at him. Their ever-present red scarf was tucked over their face, Black Hat pin keeping it secure, but their wide brown eyes were watery enough to tell Nilo everything he needed to know.

He extricated his hand, then carefully pulled Hyun Ki down to rest on his shoulder. They squeaked softly, surprised, then tucked closer, and Nilo could feel them shaking as he ran his hand through their long, dark hair. “God...you okay, Hyun Ki?”

Hyun Ki nodded, and a low voice spoke from behind them. “You scared us, but we’ll survive. Not your fault.”

Nilo looked up and saw Mandla in a chair against the wall. His multicolored dreadlocks were out of his usually elaborate hairstyle, and his already dark skin was near-void black under his eyes. Nilo scowled at him. “You haven’t been sleeping again.”

“You scared us.” Mandla sighed, then stood up so he could kiss him on the forehead. “But you’re okay. I’ll sleep again, I promise.”

“You’d better.” Nilo huffed. “Boss got me stable, so you shouldn’t be freaking out.”

Mandla gave him a long, silent look. “...we heard it when she hit you, Nilo,” he eventually said. “Your suit was saying you had blood in your lung along with your ribs, your spleen was ruptured, and you were also bleeding from where you hit that candy cane. For a few minutes, you were dying.”

Nilo bit his lip and looked away, watching his hand stroke Hyun Ki’s hair. “...All right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” Mandla pulled his chair closer and sat again. “Just...don’t downplay it.”

Before Nilo could reply, the door to the hospital room opened and let in Estella and Liliana with two bags of food. Estella froze as she saw Nilo, then grinned. “Oh thank god, you’re actually awake.”

She deposited the food on one of the chairs, and scurried over to give him a forehead kiss. Nilo thought he heard her sniffle, but when she straightened, her eyes were clear. “You are not allowed to do that ever again. I will ground you.”

“I’m 24! And you’re my sister, not my mom!”

“And I’ll still ground you!” She smoothed back his hair, then sat down and started handing around the bags of food. “The doctor said you’ll be able to eat once he’s checked you over. You kept waking up and falling back asleep, so it might be a few minutes before he comes.”

“Eh, that’s okay. I’m not hungry yet anyway.” He knew he would be, once he’d sat for a while, but for now he had questions.

First things first. “So, what happened to Dynamo?”

“She’s still in jail--it’s been like...sixteen hours?” Estella shrugged slightly, pulling out a bowl of fried rice and a fork from one of the bags. “They’re charging her with felonious assault, I think, but Silvertongue said you could ask them to drop the charges. She’s still going to be banned from hero work here for the rest of her life--she’s way too gung-ho, even if she starts respecting the narrative, and no-one will trust her.”

“That’s fair.” Nilo thought for a moment, then added, “If she’ll take some sort of remedial de-escalation without violence classes, I’ll ask that they drop the charges.”

Estella nodded with a wry smile. “Pain Management said you’d say something like that.”

“Hey, rule five of villainy--don’t take it personally unless it’s personal.” Nilo grinned. “This was so not personal, it was like a form letter. ‘To whom it may concern--’”

Nilo ducked a swat from Mandla, still grinning. “Fine, tough crowd! Okay, next question--how’d the rest of the heist go?”

“It went fine,” Mandla said, smiling slightly. “Kid by the name of Mason Windman won--he asked for a ride in the Motherhats, which he got. Didn’t even throw up.”

“Good for him!” Nilo said, duly impressed. He’d thrown up the first time he’d had to ride on a drone.

“He...had a message from his sister, too.” Hyun Ki raised their head slightly, and despite their straight face there was mischief in their eyes. “He said, ‘She said that I should tell Cold Snap that he’s got a nice butt. She knows that Cold Snap is a home of sexual, but his butt’s still nice.’”

Nilo choked on a sudden laugh, ignoring the way his ribs twinged dully under the sudden assault. “How old was this kid again?”

“Five or six, I think,” Liliana said as Hyun Ki laid their head back down. “He was adorable and I am so glad he didn’t say that on tv because his sister would never live it down.”

“Ohhh, probably not,” Nilo wheezed, “Home of sexual, are you kidding me…”

It took him a minute or so and several back pats to get his laughter under control. He gave his sister a thumbs up at her worried look, then settled back into his pillows as it subsided. “Ohhhh...I needed that, even if it hurt. Anything else?”

Estella paused in taking another bite of rice. “...Actually, yeah. Why did you ‘kidnap’ Liliana?”

Nilo’s gaze immediately snapped to Liliana, who was staring determinedly at the ceiling. “You didn’t ask her?”

“You nearly died! I didn’t think it was a good time!”

“You didn’t ask her?” Nilo threw his hands into the air, then hastily patted Hyun Ki’s back as they squeaked. “I went through all that trouble specifically so you could ask her!”

Estella put the rice in her lap. “Ask me what?”

“Do you have it, Liliana?” When she shook her head, Nilo glanced at Mandla. “Where is it?”

“Still safe with one of the hatlings.” Mandla pulled out his phone and tapped at it. A minute later, a black hatling tapped gently on the window, and he opened the window and took a small orb from it. “Thanks. Here, Liliana.”

Liliana took the orb with a sigh. Her cheeks were deep red despite her dark complexion, and as she looked at Nilo, he could see her lip was near-bloodless as she chewed on it. “Now?”

“No time like the present!” He grinned, then fell into a comforting smile. “You can do this.”

Liliana took a deep breath, then handed the orb to Estella. She blinked, then popped it open and pulled out the tiny Christmas tree inside. “It’s very pretty...what’s the topper…?”

She looked a little closer. Then she froze as she found she could slide something out of the tree.

Namely, a diamond ring, sized perfectly for her finger.

Liliana swallowed “...Estella Mendoza-Rojos, we have been dating for six years now.”

“Yes.”

“I--we’ve been through a lot to get here, and--”

“Yes--”

“Estella, will you marry me--?”

“Yes!” Estella laughed as she grabbed Liliana and kissed her. “Oh my god, yes, yes! You were going to ask me last night--?”

“It was Nilo’s idea,” Liliana said with a watery laugh as she slid the ring onto Estella’s finger. “I couldn’t figure out how to ask, and he said, ‘why not at the Christmas heist?’ So I let him kidnap me, and--well--”

“It wasn’t supposed to have the hospital involved but…” Nilo shrugged. “It still worked, right?”

“It did,” Liliana hiccuped, then laughed again as Estella kissed her.

“It did, and you two are never allowed to do this again.” Estella pulled Liliana close, ignoring the way her rice fell to the floor. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you all.”

“Hey, it’s the holidays.” Nilo leaned over and gently kissed Hyun Ki’s hair, then smiled as Mandla did the same to him. “I think we’ve earned our miracle this year.”

[dontlikedarkness]

Wonderland

Growing up together meant a lot of things. At first, it meant nothing more than following each other around daycare and annoying the living hell out of each other. Courtney would put on a front for their parents so that she’d be seen as the victim - but she played the part too well, and soon, she was spending half her time at Duncan’s house. Her parents worked a lot, so they jumped at the chance to have somebody pick her up after closing time. They thought extra time with her friend was an added bonus, although her mom didn’t quite approve; she’d learned through the grapevine that Duncan was a troublemaker at school, but was desperate enough to risk it. Besides, she was confident (and rightfully so, for the most part) that Courtney had inherited enough of her own stubbornness and need for structure to resist Duncan’s antics.

Once they’d moved on to kindergarten and eventually grade school, leaving Courtney with the Bivona household for after school care became a matter of convenience. Duncan’s eldest brother was soon old enough to watch them himself, once his mom had gone back to work after maternity leave, and Courtney’s younger sister, Kate, was easy enough to look after. They both appreciated the company of another kid their age - though they’d never admit it.

It became natural for the two to be together. Her dad would drive them to school in the morning, and his mom would pick them up after, so it made sense that they’d hang out in the times in between. Not that they ever meant to, but they were comfortable around each other, as it tends to happen when you’ve known someone since they were in diapers. They’d gravitate towards the other’s familiar face on the first day of school, and be paired up together every day afterwards. Teachers thought they were a good balance, though they never quite understood it. Courtney was useful when Duncan’s attitude and issues with authority needed reigning in, and Duncan always knew how to bring her out of her shell. As odd as it was, it worked.

The roof had been his idea, of course. Who else would see a house and wonder how much of the neighborhood they could see? Purely for devious reasons, he’d said, though she knew better than that. It took months upon months to convince her to go up with him, and it was her roof - had it been any other roof, chances are she wouldn’t have agreed. The only reason she’d said yes in the first place had been pride, because he claimed she was too chicken to go up there, and she’d needed to prove him wrong.

She’d fallen in love with the spot fairly quickly. It was easier to see the stars up there, and she could get out of her house without ever having to leave. It wasn’t breaking the rules - it was skirting them. Which was good enough for her.

Soon enough, it had become an unofficial meeting ground. A safe place, of sorts. He always knew where to find her when she was stressed and overwhelmed, and she knew where to find him when he was pissed about something. They would go up there just to talk, and sometimes they’d stay for hours before Courtney inevitably realized it was past midnight and they had school in the morning.

Even before they’d started dating, it had been there. It started with innocent cuddling in the fifth grade, because Courtney got cold easily and neither of them ever remembered to bring blankets. They’d bring a laptop up and watch movies until the battery died, or until they found themselves talking, too distracted to focus on the screen. Slowly that had progressed into cautious hand-holding, a gentle swipe of his thumb over the back of her hand. She would lay on his chest, eyes on the stars, pointing out every constellation she knew, and speculating on the ones she didn’t. Eventually he knew them by heart, and he’d hold her hand as she gestured at them, naming them off before she could so much as open her mouth. As much as she pretended it annoyed her, she found it oddly endearing. It meant he cared enough to listen, and he didn’t care about anything.

“Princess” had been his nickname for her ever since they could remember. She’d been playing dress-up one day while he idled about, making off-handed comments about how dumb she looked, when she’d decided on the princess outfit. “It makes me feel powerful,” she’d told him, tiny hands on tinier hips. “Whatever you say, princess,” he’d shot back, and it had stuck. When the name began to send a torrent of butterflies through her stomach, she’d known she was in trouble. That was when the hand-holding had transitioned into kisses; soft at first, and completely innocent. He’d kiss her hand and say “your highness” with a mock bow, she’d kiss his cheek and then ruffle his hair in response to the rare but steadily more common compliment. His forehead, when she was proud. Her nose, because she’d complained about her freckles. Neither of them could admit that they wanted more. It was too scary an admission - she thought they were too different; he thought she deserved better. And so the no-longer-quite-so-innocent kissing and cuddling and whatever else continued for a while.

It was sophomore year when she’d decided enough was enough. He helped her push her boundaries in every way - so why not this? His pining had become painfully obvious, and everyone was urging her to do something about it, because while he acted like a lovesick puppy, he respected her too much to make a move without some sort of sign from her. Of course, there had been many signs, but he was incredibly oblivious to them, blinded by thoughts of ‘she would never want me’ and ‘I’d only drag her down’. It was up to her to take matters into her own hands.

So she invited him to the roof, under the pretext of having a movie night. She was up for re-election as student body president, and he needed an escape from his overbearing father; it wasn’t entirely out of left field that either of them would want a night to relax. She spent an hour up there making everything perfect: she had blankets and pillows and all their favorite snacks, and a slew of romantic comedies neither of them would particularly enjoy lined up to watch. He was quick to figure out something was up, fixing her with an expectant stare the moment he’d finished scaling the trellis. “Somebody die, princess?” He’d asked, and she turned beet red. She’d gone overboard, because that was what she did, and she’d set up a date for an entirely different set of people. All they ever really needed was some cheesy thriller and a bucket of popcorn, not some elaborate set up, but she’d let her nerves get the best of her and had immediately gone into overdrive to take her mind off of it.

He could sense her building panic, and he silenced it all with the gentle brush of a hand over her cheek. She squeaked out a meek protest, though both of them knew she didn’t mean it. Her hand snaked up to twist through his hair, pulling him closer, and before he knew it her lips were on his. Gentle, but demanding, leaving him gasping for air. Nothing had ever felt so right, to either of them.

The transition from best friends to more was nowhere near as complicated as she’d expected. They were slightly more public with their affection, he’d sneak into her room for sleepovers and late-night cuddling, and they kissed a hell of a lot more, but beyond that, very little changed. They still bickered to no end and argued over the simplest things, but it was never enough to split them up. It hadn’t before, and it still wouldn’t. They had a bond no one could explain - nor hope to break.

The roof had weathered it all, a constant throughout their relationship, even as it grew and changed. It was a symbol of everything they’d overcome and everything they had yet to endure, and it gave Courtney the strength to believe in them. The strength to speak up.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, princess,” he teased, feathering a kiss on her nose before pressing his forehead to hers, content in their closeness as they lay beneath the stars. She frowned, shifting herself up slightly so that their eyes were level. “You can’t tell me you don’t see the way she looks at you, Duncan. Like she’d worship you if she could. Like you’re some sort of god and she’s a mere mortal, awed to be in your presence.”

His thumb brushed across her chin before settling there, with her head cradled in his hand. It was difficult to find words when she was there, looking so unbelievably beautiful, ebony eyes wide and almost wounded. He could drown in those eyes. Probably would, if he let himself.

“I hadn’t noticed, no.”

A scowl replaced her frown and she rolled her eyes, though she didn’t stop herself from leaning into his touch. His warmth was addicting. “She’s practically drooling after you.” He pulled her closer, letting her shift against his chest until she was comfortable, his shoulder acting as her pillow. “What can I say? I’ve been distracted.”

“You have?”

“It’s hard not to be, when you look at me like I’m the stars in your sky. You don’t idolize me like she does - you see every part of me, the good and the bad, and you still think of me as your equal. Your better half. Tell me, Court, how could she ever hold a candle to you?” His tone was heartbreakingly gentle, and the soft brush of his hand down her spine had her at peace. “Duncan?” She asked, propping herself up again so that she could see him.

“Yes, princess?”

She sighed then, her hair falling across his face as she leaned forward the tiniest amount. “Thank you. For putting up with me. I know I can be… a lot, at times, and I’m not the easiest person to be around. The fact that you stay… It means a lot. More than you could possibly know.”

A sharp intake of breath was the only indicator that he’d heard, and they both remained silent for a few moments before he spoke, his voice slightly unsteady. “God, Courtney… You make it sound like such a chore.”

“What?”

“Just… being around you. I don’t put up with you, because I don’t have to. Every second I get to be near you is a gift. You are so fucking special, princess, and it hurts that you don’t see everything I see. You are gorgeous, and talented, and smart, and brilliant and funny and all sorts of amazing. You are my everything. You keep me steady, you give me a shake back to reality when I’ve gone too far, and you talk me down when I need it. Nobody understands me the way you do, without even trying, and shit… You complete me, Court, you really do. And it’s terrifying and awful and scary but you are beyond worth it. Princess, I…” He choked up suddenly, and gazed up to her, hoping she’d understand everything he couldn’t find the words to say.

“Duncan?”

He broke, then, a single tear sliding down the side of his face. She brushed it away, leaving her hand there, so small a gesture, and yet so incredibly tender and powerful. He held it there, rubbing gently circles into the back of her hand, relishing the intimacy of it all.

“Fuck, Courtney, I love you. So much. And you don’t have to say it back, but… I needed to say it. I think you needed to hear it, too.”

He expected her to tense up, to push him away; anything to signal that she wasn’t ready, that he’d moved too fast, and screwed everything up as per usual. When she didn’t, he thought that might be worse.

“Duncan.”

“Hm?” He responded, a quiet hum of a response, because words were failing him now.

And then her hand slid free, tangling itself in his unkempt hair, her nails pressing softly against his scalp. “Kiss me, damn it. I love you too. More than anything in the world.”

They melted together, then. Two souls perfectly in harmony, against all odds. Beautiful, and perhaps doomed. But none of it mattered. Not in that moment; not ever, because they didn’t care. They would fight for each other, always. A constant in each other’s lives, just as the roof had been in theirs. Forever entwined.

this can also be found on ao3 here

[courtorderedcake]

Hallow : ch xix - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch 19 / ?? - In which Emma makes her choice

Emma was seated to the right of Jasmine again when they began to dine, Killian seated to the Sultana's left. If Emma didn't currently feel a sense of absolute frustration beyond anything she ever had felt for that man, she would have wished him closer for the way the four men sat across from them leered at her. Raja patted her hand in a comforting gesture from his seat next to her own, his paws giant over her sweaty palms. His deep, soulful eyes read hers with sympathy as the dinner began. 

"So, Princess Emma, is it?" Jafar smiled widely, stabbing at the vegetable tart served to them as their first course. "Regale us on how you acquired such an illness while eluding capture in your family's overthrow. It must be a fascinating tale."

He smirked at her, biting a piece of asparagus viciously as she tried to keep an easy-going grin plastered on her face. The way he drew out words as if she was some shallow and simple girl made her skin crawl. 

"Oh, I'm not sure how I caught it really," Emma cut at the tart, making tinier and tinier morsels. "I only know that whatever it is, it's baffling the most talented team of healers I have ever seen."

"Well, it looks similar to an ink blot hex -" Hades began, but Emma shook her head, and he paused. 

"I know. That's what they thought at first, because of Killian telling them about the black bruising." Glancing at Killian, she saw him stop pushing food around his own plate with a frown and stiffen. All eyes at the table rested on his tightening shoulders. "He didn't know, and I was unable to explain that the bruising is a good thing. I was gifted a soot sprite blessing by an ally. Killian…" Emma hesitated as she saw him stab at his food, but Jasmine patted her knee gently to push her forward. "Out of fear of poisoning, Killian disposed of medicine given to me by an ally to combat the illness before I could take it. He threw their herbal remedy into the sea. These soot sprites have been helping me, and are one of the only reasons I am here today. It was a mistake that cost me precious time; as they treated the charm, it weakened. I got worse. Now they are praying it continues to last."

"Oh, Princess, I'm so sorry. I'm sure the Dark One must have not done it maliciously," Arthur said, frowning. "It seems as if you both trust each other quite a bit -" 

"We do -" Emma tried to interrupt, but Killian glowered at Arthur darkly. 

"The Dark One is right here, and had no bloody idea about a soot charm, herbal remedies, or anything these 'allies' of yours gave you to possibly kill you; if the Dark One had known, he gladly would have mentioned it on behalf of the Princess." His words were clipped and seeping with animosity. Emma swallowed hard, and Arthur looked at her with worry, eyes darting back to look at Killian. Their plates were taken away as more wine was poured and various cheese, fruit, and bread was provided. 

"Ah, a soot sprite charm. Interesting indeed that it's helping. That is effective for a very limited scope of illness," Hades nodded, rubbing at his chin. "Where did you find such an ally that could weave such inane magics?" 

A chill ran down Emma's spine, Hades eyes piercing her with a fixated precision. 

"Oh, we have been in the Mortal world. It's changed more than can be even explained," Killian shrugged, and Emma nodded in turn. Not a lie, but not an admission of where the Dragon and Kitsune base was, or that it still existed. Killian pressed on, a lazy, indulgent smirk settling on his features. "I'm sure you have not been recently?"

"No," Jafar sighed. "I've heard they have the most interesting machinations though."

"Their wars are what excite me, and luckily, you need not be there to experience it when you have recorded written histories," Hades smiled softly, propping his chin in his palm. "The beauty of the ever cycling world that is mortal pettiness."

"As if we Fae are much better," Ali mumbled. Emma looked at him, his dark eyes surveying the meat now sliding onto the table. 

Arthur laughed, clapping a hand harshly on Ali's back. "Quite right, quite right - Always the altruistic idealistic ponce, this one."

Ali frowned deeper, picking at his meal. 

By the time dessert began, conversation had become a sort of cyclical pettiness itself. Hades, Arthur, and Killian had begun a sort of verbal sparring over each other's intelligence as Jafar egged them on with a satin finesse, Ali pushed small bits of food around his plate while only looking up to gaze at Jasmine with a strange vehemence, and Jasmine herself gripped Emma's hand or thigh almost constantly as the men flirted or bragged incessantly trying to win favor. 

Arthur seemed the most genuine in Emma's opinion, his heart broken by his would be queen, and seeking a tender hand to cradle it. He talked about his many feats of heroism, his philanthropic efforts, the hopes of his great kingdom, and how he would bridge a kingdom together with his own. Emma herself was surprised to find that he wasn't completely unattractive, and he seemed to treat her and Jasmine with a good bit of respect. 

Jafar and Hades both seemed too dark and somehow deeply unsettling. There was something about them that made Emma feel as if they were predatory; a flash of tooth and spark on the eye that she could have placed in wolves. They both looked as if they were piecing together where the people around them were weak, waiting like snakes to strike. Hades seemed less confident than Jafar, warmer in a more personable fashion, but quicker to bouts of anger. Jafar gave Emma the creeps many more times over. 

Ali was the wild card. Surprisingly, Killian had exchanged not a single barb with him when he had spoken. It was as if Ali did not exist to Killian, although Ali himself seemed to be half present; he flipped between wanting to be there and desperately wanting to escape. Emma could understand the emotion, although it had been over a year ago since she had last dealt with that specific unease in royal matters. Was his kingdom without social etiquette? Did being outside of the United Realms mean you did not follow any social constructs? But then, Jasmine, Jafar, Arthur, and Hades seemed to know most of the stiffer mannerisms and propriety. 

It simply was bizarre how clearly Ali disliked the Sultana while he still fought for her hand. 

When they rose to take an after dinner libation, Ali trailed behind. Holding back herself, Emma watched him approach a servant clearing their plates. They began to argue after Ali seemed to say something to shock the Palace staff. 

"I don't care how much it costs. Do it. On my orders, and if anyone asks -" 

"M'Lord, I m-mean you no d-disrespect, but your orders m-mean little here. You would need -" The servant stammered, and Ali sighed, taking off his turban to comb his fingers through his hair with exasperation. 

"It was going to be thrown away, was it not?" Ali snapped at the man. 

"Well yes, but -" 

Ali took a step forward as the man cowered. "Then why -" 

"Omar, what is happening here?" Emma asked, and Omar bowed low with a sputter. Ali looked irritated, his eyes narrowing. 

"Princess, I am honored that you have remembered my name, but there is no need -" 

"I asked for the leftovers not being reused to be given to the hungry people I am sure must live in this kingdom," Ali gritted out. "It seems, however, that is too difficult - "

"It's m-much t-too good to waste on them," Omar stammered again, and Ali's eyes lit with a dark rage. He gripped Omar by the vest, and Emma squeaked out a warning. 

"Stop! Stop please!" Ali lowered the trembling man, who breathed a sigh of relief just as Jasmine turned the corner. Emma nodded at her, Ali still gripping Omar's vest as his fingers loosened. 

"Just what is going on?" Jasmine chided, her hands on her hips. 

"Ali wanted this food to be given to the poor living in your kingdom, Sultana. Omar was stating that it could not be done, and that it was too good for 'them', whoever 'them' is. I would hope no kingdom as opulent as Agrabah would have hungry people on the streets, but…" Emma trailed off, watching Ali step back with a look of surprise. 

Jasmine raised a cocky eyebrow. "If we do, I certainly have never seen them."

"Maybe you aren't looking hard enough then," Ali challenged, Jasmine's jaw dropping. 

"How dare you!" Jasmine hissed, but Ali only shook his head with a condescending smirk. "I look after this entire kingdom -" 

"You look over things alright, Sultana. You look over the things you don't see, because your guards remove them from your view. Although, since you spend the majority of your time here in your gilded towers, it isn't surprising that you have no idea how many go hungry," Ali sneered at Jasmine. She scoffed, looking at him with rage. 

"How would you even know? How dare you, how dare you -" 

"Take this food down to the streets then. Tonight. No guard clean up beforehand, just them protecting you while you serve hot meals. Let's go. Right now," Ali challenged, Emma's eyes going wide. 

"I - We - That's a logistics nightmare -" Jasmine said weakly. 

"If the food will be thrown away regardless, Jasmine," Emma smiled, batting her eyelashes. "I've not gotten a chance to see the market -" 

"Oh, not you too!" Jasmine groaned. 

"I mean, the worst thing that could happen is some food allotted for waste gets a few more hours of potential use. Please, Jasmine?" Emma watched as Jasmine fought herself internally before sighing. Whistling with two fingers, Raja appeared a moment later. 

"Sultana?" the Anisapi asked, eyeing Ali suspiciously. 

"I want this food brought down to the plaza square, and my seated box brought before it. I am about to prove this," She pointed at Ali, glaring as her chin rose in defiance, “Fool that he has no right to disrespect me when in the grace of my hospitality.”

“Fine, then, Sultana,” Ali challenged. Omar scurried off, and Jasmine turned in a huff to walk away. Before she could get very far, Ali called after her. “But what if I am right?

Jasmine whirled around, stomping back to him to poke a finger into his chest. “You aren’t.”

Ali grinned cockily, and Jasmine fumed. “Willing to wager?” he asked in a silky tone. “I bet you an evening with me that you, Sultana, the Seer of the Sands, are wrong.” Jasmine opened her mouth to say something, but Ali raised a hand. “And no peeking into the future to cheat, Sultana. No. I wager you are very wrong. I wager you have looked at your life, at Kings, Queens, and Royal fuck all, but never the poorest you rule over.”

Jasmine sputtered, and Emma watched helplessly as the viewing box was brought to them. As she stepped inside to escape the awkward tension rippling off the two, she heard Jasmine’s clear reply. 

“And when you are wrong, Ali of Ab’Dua, you will leave my kingdom to never return.” 

The viewing carriage, or 'palanquin', for the Sultana was lined in velvet, Ali seated next to Emma so Jasmine could stare him down from her seat as they approached the public square. Emma tried to focus on the sweet and spicy scents that drifted in through the small windows, or the colorful stalls that they passed as Jasmine and Ali bickered. It seemed everything they spoke about had them opposed to the other, from the size of Jasmine’s guard to their personal preferences on fruit. 

“Figs are pretentious, even to eat,” Ali sneered, as Jasmine raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

“You would know all about pretentious, as a spoiled, privileged, man-child -”

“Projection does not suit you, Sultana,” he replied coolly. Emma could practically feel the flame of Jasmine’s wrath, the heat of it as hot as the outside temperature. 

They arrived in the square in a silence that was thick with animosity, people scrambling to the shadows as if they were being chased away. Food was set forth as trumpets blared, an announcer stepping forward at the front. “The Sultana gifts you with this humble bounty, citizens of Agrabah. If you have not been fed, if you are hungry, step forward.” 

The square stayed silent, the bustle of the market dying within minutes.

“See?” Jasmine pressed, smiling slightly. Emma looked down at her feet, a strange feeling in her gut. 

Ali chuckled with a roll of his eyes. “I see alright. Your populace is terrified of you.” He stretched, cracking his shoulders and knuckles, then opened the door to the viewing box. The guards startled, but he gave a wave while he removed his fine clothes, leaving only a vest and trousers. 

“Ali, what -” Emma hissed, gesturing for him to return. He shook his head and offered his hand to her. “No! I can’t, people shouldn’t know I’m - “

At her protests, he rolled his eyes again, looking around. Spotting what he apparently needed, she saw him turn a corner. After a few moments he returned with a visibly shaken man who held several bejeweled veils. 

“Which one do you think suits this lady, good man?” Ali asked the man, who fumbled slightly. 

“The emerald, sir,” the man whispered. His forehead has begun to bead with sweat, and Emma felt intensely bad for him. 

“It’s beautiful. I’d be honored to wear such craftsmanship.” Emma smiled softly, taking it from his fingers. He flinched, but when her fingers gently took the material from his hands he relaxed. Ali placed several gold coins into his hands to pay, and the man’s eyes practically bulged out of his head. 

“I - This is too much -” he stammered, but Ali shook his head. 

“If you are hungry, if you have family that are hungry, or if you know anyone who is hungry: Please have them come forward. There is no ill will here. You are safe to do so.” Ali clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. “If you are hungry, eat.”

The man glanced over Ali’s shoulder, looking at Emma and Jasmine. Jasmine sat frozen, staring straight at him. Turning on his heel, he pulled away from Ali and walked straight around the corner. Ali sighed, looking defeated. 

“Well, Princess,” Ali said sadly. “I hope you like your veil, and I wish you well. It’s a pretty parting gift seeing as I will soon be banished.”

Emma ran the silky fabric through her fingers, unable to look at Ali. She nodded, swallowing hard. It shouldn’t have made her feel so sad when he looked at her like that, but she knew without the blessing of the Sphinx he was right. He believed what he was saying with absolute certainty; Somehow he knew that there were hungry on the streets here. This was personal to him on some level. 

Carefully slipping on the veil, she stepped out of the box even as Jasmine protested. “I wanted to see the market, though. This may be my last chance.”

“Well, then we shall have to see the market.” Ali smiled, offering his arm. 

The market was beautiful, spices and shimmering draped fabrics displayed with care as callers barked out prices or pushed their goods in front of her face. Fish was plentiful, as were jewels, leather, and soaps, fragrances shifting constantly in the warm winds. 

They wandered through the stalls for an hour or so before Jasmine joined them, wearing a hooded brown muslin dress. Ali appraised her with a grin. 

"You rough up nicely, Sultana. You could be a street mouse any day -" 

"Don't you mean a street rat?" Jasmine snapped. 

"Oh no, you are far too soft and naive for that." He grinned, while her lips pressed into a thin line. "And street rats aren't generally as pretty as you are." 

Jasmine blushed, Ali saying the last bit with a strange absent-minded surety. Emma smiled, falling back as the two began to bicker over fig prices, the merchant looking on with amusement. She stopped to rest occasionally, watching them prod at each other. It reminded her of not that long ago when Killian had teased instead of running from her. 

" You don't want Ingrid to worry. That's so sweet." Emma teased, and he couldn't manage a scowl, only a slightly irritated upturn of his lips. "See, I'm right! Don't deny it -" 

"We barely survived the wrath of a Sphinx, and a Satyr. They say third time's the charm, and it would give Ingrid the utmost satisfaction to be a means to my end." A twinkle of mischief lit his eyes and Emma laughed out loud before she could help herself. 

"She did say she needs a new throw rug." Emma giggled into a coffee mug with a sideways glance. "We could take turns beating you." 

When they made their way back to the viewing box, they encountered a long line of shabbily dressed women and children, a few men here and there. Ali quirked an eyebrow, ushering them to follow him through an alley, leading them around the people waiting for whatever it was. Turning a tight corner, they came out into the public square behind a fountain. 

Jasmine's mouth dropped in shock as she saw the square full of people, some clearly in need of a healer and others skeletal. A pair of children in patchwork rags shared a loaf of bread between each other, both looking as if the wind could blow through their skinny bodies. 

"Ali -" Jasmine tried, her voice thick as she swallowed. "I -" 

"Sultana, I wish I had been wrong. Please know that now, before our wager ends," Ali said quietly, approaching her to put a hand on her shoulder. "With that said, I will see you tonight at sun down." He gave her a peck on the cheek, bowed slightly to both Emma and Jasmine, then disappeared into the crowd. 

Jasmine looked stunned as they climbed into the viewing box, guards appearing to take them back to the palace as quietly as possible. Emma watched the Sultana stare out the window, half smiling, knowing that she was planning on making changes to benefit her kingdom. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  To say Killian found the Sultana's suitors annoying and disgusting would be an understatement. The time with them was torture, an exceedingly cruel and excruciating exercise in hatred. For one, both Jafar and Hades seemed eerily interested in his workings, bombarding him with unsubtle questions as if he was on display. They asked how the Darkness inside him worked, how its presence in his day to day life was made known, if he remembered his misdeeds, and if he felt remorse as if he would answer these questions in casual conversation. Instead he offered monosyllables, eye rolls, or simply ignored the question as if he was a petulant child. 

It suits you, you are a petulant fool of a boy. 

Then there was the fact that they were all pompous in varying degrees that were still largely high, with astounding vain and narcissistic streaks longer than the worst nobles Killian had met. All three referred to Jasmine as an object once alone in his company, as if they were speaking about the serving tray their liquor was served off of, Arthur only adding Emma in as an afterthought. Jafar treated anyone around him except the other two men with a callous disregard for their intelligence, and an outright malicious streak to boot. Hades was not only malicious, but talked openly about his hatred for women and multiple types of Fae he considered beneath him. Arthur should have been a Saint next to them, but his rapport with the two struck Killian as not to be mistaken for coincidence. If it wasn't forced, there was something to be said about what lurked below his composure. 

Topping everything was knowing that the so called 'Ali' was really the thief Aladdin, without knowing any of his intentions. What if they were in danger? Killian had suffered through this meal and now this after dinner dessert and drinks, while Emma had disappeared into the aether with no regard to anything. Again. What if she was a target? Or the Sultana, which could easily result in a wartime coup. He needed to get away from this group as soon as possible to regroup with Emma. 

The Darkness reveled in the chaos as Killian chewed his tongue, trying not to explode. 

"Yes. Do anything for that sweet princess of yours would you?" 

It's too bad you are responsible for killing her. Do you ever tire of making the wrong choices? Imagine doing everything in an effort to keep your little secret love safe, only to destroy her every step of the way. It's insidious, and I don't even have to help!

"Dark One!"

Killian looked up to see the three suitors looking at him expectantly. 

"I asked if your Princess told you where she, Ali, and the Sultana were headed!" Hades snapped, his voice cold. "You are the Princess’s lackey, are you not? Answer when I speak to you."

Killian grunted with a shake of his head. 

"It's as if you don't want a cure for…" Jafar purred, rubbing his beard and curling its ends around his long fingers. "What was her name again? Anya? Emma?" 

Killian’s eyes flicked over to stare at the grinning man, who leaned over, balancing on his staff. 

Jafar shrugged, both arms coming to rest on the curved golden head of the cobra as he continued to stroke his beard. "I'd hate for anyone to find out that the Dark One not only sabotaged an alliance that tried to cure your Emma before landing in Agrabah, but during their stay as well. Can you imagine?" 

The Darkness cackled in his head as he seethed behind an impassive stare.

Your Emma. If only they knew that she could never be yours without you obliterating her. 

"Honestly though Dark Thing, where did Emma and Jasmine get off to?" Arthur asked in a bored drawl. "Ali has one, someone should have a fair shot at the other; tis only fair."

"Ask a servant. I don't know, they were here, went to the kitchens, and then were gone with half of the guard. I assume they went to the market for whatever reasons," Killian bit out. "If you're so bloody inclined to see where they got off to, why don't you head there yourselves?" 

"Among the peasant scum?" Arthur asked as his face wrinkled with disgust. "Absolutely not. If I wanted to smell of camel dung, there are easier ways."

"Right, well. Then I'll excuse myself." Killian stood, giving a nod. 

"Yes, go fetch the Sultana and Princess, this behavior is silly. I can't do tests for this mysterious illness on a corpse. I mean, I could, but it doesn't seem preferential." Hades grinned icily and shooed Killian, the other men laughing. He left without complaint, heading down to the market with practiced ease. Taking a corner shortcut he'd discovered, he was surprised to hear Aladdin's voice. The man was arguing tersely with another as Killian stopped to listen. 

"I risked everything getting into the palace for you, and I got caught. They know to be on high alert, and if you think -" 

"Relax, Abu. She can't see us, we've cloaked the future from her."

"As if that isn't suspicious -" 

"It's not. She won't be able to tell. Djinn magic is the only thing that can take on Djinn magic. We have Djinn magic that I stole." Aladdin let a sly chuckle. "This job will be easy."

"It's not easy, and I'm not going to help you. Not when you're working with -" 

"Abu!" Aladdin hissed, and the Anisapi gave a series of scratchy chirps. 

"I'm out. I'm out, and I'm not risking it. I like the Sultana. I think today should prove she can change. What you want and what they want aren't the same," Abu said sadly, leaving in a scamper as Aladdin called after him. The Anisapi turned the corner around Killian without notice as Aladdin trotted behind. 

"Tough break there, uncommon thief," Killian drawled, pushing off from his lean against the wall. "Maybe betraying the Sultana and the Princess is not such a grand plan after all. Why are you here? You know you will be caught soon enough."

Aladdin laughed, clapping his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "Not unless you say something. Which you won't."

"Oh? That's presumptuous of you."

"Yeah." Aladdin smirked, standing straight as his eyes glinted. "I know you are the reason that Emma is sick. You caused her illness."

"That's impossible. How could you possibly -" 

"The Princess talks. She talked to me in particular, desperate for someone after losing her best friend, who I assume is some type of elemental, and another close friend: namely, you." Aladdin smirked as Killian's jaw began to work. "It's very clear with a little bit of her sad back story of how you ended up in Agrabah. You were both close before you underwent some rite together, that no one can supposedly remember, then afterwards you avoid her and push a wedge between yourself and her. The question is, are you trying to kill her? Is that why you threw her medicine away and keep blocking her from getting better?"

"Of course I'm not trying to prevent her recovery, I never meant to hurt her!" 

Aladdin grinned, as Killian realized his admission. "So you did cause it."

"You - You great bloody -" 

"Ah ah, Dark One. Unless you want your princess to know everything, I suggest you listen to everything I'm about to say. She trusts me now, more so than you; and I can safely say now with certainty, you have feelings for her. Keep your mouth shut and I won't tell a single soul about what you did during the rite. Deal?"

"I have no feelings for her, and you have no proof - " 

Aladdin laughed again, examining his fingernails. "Neither do you. Shall I lay out your malfeasance, and hope for the best against my own?" 

"You -" 

"Deal?" Aladdin offered again, a sharpened edge to his voice.

"Deal," Killian grumbled, watching Aladdin turn away, his strides confident. They walked back to the palace in silence. Just past the gates they met the Sultana and Emma as they stepped from their boxed palanquin, Killian falling back as Aladdin moved towards Jasmine and Emma. Aladdin kissed Emma's cheek to her delight, earning a giggle as Killian felt a hot and unpleasant bitterness fill his body. 

Arthur stepped from behind a hedge, a rose in his fingers that he presented to Emma with a bow. Aladdin frowned as Arthur pulled Emma into the gardens, something unspoken passing between him and Arthur before they separated. 

Unease began to prick at the back of Killian's neck. 

Emma sat at the fountain side, her hair in a braid similar to what the Sultana seemed to favor, Arthur sitting next to her as they watched fish swimming. She looked relaxed, splashing her feet and laughing as Arthur animatedly told her something with large hand movements. Resigning himself to wait until the two separated to try to speak to Emma and at least get ahead of Aladdin or anything he could do, he returned to his chambers. 

He heard Emma return hours later as he studied Agrabah's constellations and their strange alignments, the sun long since disappeared from the pocket realm's sky. When he approached to speak with her, she was already in conversation with the Goblin from before, Iago. 

"What if it is him, Iago? These dreams have to mean something. I thought it was someone else, I thought it was… I thought it might be," Emma hesitated and he heard her sigh. "The man had different eyes than Arthur. They weren't - Arthur's eyes are green, with hazel gold. But everything else, the rough hands, the rings, the soft accent when whispering sweet nothings, the dark hair and bit of scruffy beard starting… Iago, what if Arthur is the one who keeps invading my dreams? The person I thought it was… it couldn't be him. He isn't kind, he is selfish and hurtful, and just… infuriating"

"You said that the man in your dreams makes you feel safe and loved?" Iago asked. There was a sound of something rattling, then a light clatter. 

"More than that, I loved him back. It feels as though I'm so close every time I wake up. I just desperately want him to be there instead of leaving me alone again. In the last one, he was… He kissed me. We kissed each other. I think - he saved me from something, but I don't know. Everything is so jumbled."

"The runes say that he knows your feelings, but is frightened. They say your dreams are leading you to love, and that he wishes to be with you as much as you wish the same. But… " 

"But what, Iago? Why are you frowning, what do you see?" 

"There's many obstacles for both of you. There's darkness in this man's past… And in his future. Be careful with your heart, Princess. Be careful who you trust it with."

"Thank you, Iago."

"My pleasure, and honor."

Killian swallowed thickly. His time was running out, she was remembering him more and more, Arthur a replacement in his stead. It broke him as the Darkness hissed, squirming to constrict his lungs. It paralyzed him as it drilled deep through his sorrow, then as if it was a corroding acid, began to burn away all of his once secreted feelings. 

When he was able to turn the corner by Emma's room at last, the Darkness crowed in its triumph, all love for her eradicated finally and for all time. 

Somewhere deep, deeper than the Darkness had ever dared to look, something within Killian burned . 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  The smell of flowers and soft breeze playing with her hair does little to lessen the heat of him holding her. 

"Is this a dream?" Emma murmured, pulling away slightly. "It has to be, because you, it can't be you. You're not here. You would never treat me like this, I would never forget if you did."

"Love," His arms wrapped around her tighter, his dark hair tickling her cheek. A calloused hand gently caressed the back of her head. "I will remember for you, and keep you safe. It's better that way." 

"Please, I know it isn't you." Heat was pouring from him, his arms too tight but still somehow so comforting. Emma could feel flame licking her as she pushed him away. "You're not like this. This isn't you." 

He took a step back, and the sadness in the blue of his eyes froze her. She shivered, missing his warmth against herself. Her chest ached, and the air had become thin as cold seeped into her bones. "Emma. I'm so sorry."

"Stop it. Just -" It couldn't be him. It wasn't, it couldn't be him. Not him, not those eyes that screamed secrets at her; not the way he looked at her now with such anger and hatred. It wasn't him. 

His shadow seemed to grow as he turned away. Emma reached for him, unable to control her need for warmth as it began to snow over the bright flowers in the garden. "It's better for you to forget." 

"No, please don't leave me!" The wind whipped around her, snow hitting her face like freezing needles. It blanketed the world around her, absolving it of color and sounds outside her teeth chattering. Her breath puffed in the air as she yelled his name - 

"Killian!" Emma sat up, panting under the plush blankets as she shook. A coughing spell hit her with force, and she rolled onto the floor from confusion, unbalanced from the sudden awakening. The floor was cold under her skin, sweat trapping her in the sheets. An attendant quickly ran in to help her up.

"Oh, Princess! I heard you call out, what - oh you are burning up, let me -" Emma heard the Elven woman sigh as doctors and a few more attendants swarmed the room. She took a stumbled step forward, caught as more gasps sounded and her own breath would not come. 

In the dark of unconsciousness, it was uncomfortable and painful, eyes fluttering open on occasion to see bright light shone into her pupils or concerned faces poking her with this or that. The Sultana made appearances, as did Ali among the other suitors, but him more than most. Killian only appeared behind her eyelids as she tried to escape the strange dreams that featured him front and center. Her brain and heart were just as sick as her lungs for him to be appearing with such emotion. 

In the quiet she listened, straining to hear any sounds that could be him, only conjuring more hazy images of the imposter that haunted her dreams. His laughter and the thrilling feel of his lips against her own were so much more than she had ever hoped for. When she heard the soft hum of a man's appreciation, her hopes grew high until Jasmine's whispers identified who had made it. 

"I'm scared for her, Ali. She's been a good friend, and I - what if you don't find a cure? What if no one does, or if Hades or Arthur -" 

"Jasmine, it will be alright," Ali whispered in reply. "You have been a great friend to her too. We'll figure something out. With Jafar gone, Hades is working overtime, and Arthur wants… He doesn't want to marry you. He has his heart set on Emma. We're working together to identify a cure."

"Thank you, Ali. I know I should not hope or show bias, but after our date… After everything , I feel very strongly that…" 

There was a soft sigh, and Emma could hear the sound of their mouths moving together as she tried desperately to fall away into the blackness. Their date must have gone well, if they were this enthusiastic with her as an unwilling, unknown audience. 

The idea of being kissed like that, or of comfort brought by someone in the name of love, pulled her back into dreaming. Temptation lay underneath her fingers tracing trails under a naval suit, or letting a firm hand linger on the small of her back while they swayed. Emma fell back into memories of waking up enveloped in warmth, the flutter of happiness that burst upward when she stirred and was immediately comforted by a gravelly voice. What has she done to ruin the way he smiled at her while they danced? Had it all been a dream? 

When it faded next, a rough hand squeezed her own, the owner's voice accented and quiet. Her heart beat quicker in anticipation. 

"Princess, your beauty is still undeniable, even now." 

Emma coughed, turning her head with slight difficulty to see Arthur appraising her. 

"You're awake! Oh, Princess, I'm so happy to see those beautiful eyes of yours." 

Emma felt a strange disappointment, but smiled back softly. "Wha -" The words broke off into coughing that left her clawing at her throat. 

"Water for the princess! Please!" Arthur shouted, sending attendants scurrying. "Emma, hold on my delicate flower. I've got you."

A servant brought water, Arthur snatching it from his hands to pour into her mouth. Emma pushed his hand away as she sputtered, spilling water over herself in the process. Taking a small sip eventually, she sighed, turning to look at him. He was frowning, wiping away water from his tunic with disgust. 

"I'm -" Emma felt her lungs constrict and her throat burn even from the smallest bit of speech. Her attempted apology stuck like a shard of glass she could not swallow, sending her coughing again. When she looked at Arthur for help, she was surprised to see him looking at her with anger as if he was disgruntled. When she collapsed back against the bed again, it was if she had imagined it. 

"Oh, you sweet rose petal. It's alright. I know you didn't mean to get water on my velvet. It's fine. Lay back, let me speak for you as a King would for his Queen." His face was soft, and he gently stroked her face with a cloth. Though he was a great relief as he spoke orders to the servants, doctors, and attendants, his words didn't comfort her; Something there unsettled her, his bright smile half heartedly returned as she pondered on why. 

Maybe it was in the way he spoke over her, even in their moments alone together, or insisted that she should rest her voice so he could continue his lengthy monologues. There was also his treatment of the servants and her doctors, his orders given sharply as he ignored them otherwise. A realization hit her suddenly about her discomfort: Arthur reminded her of home. 

He reminded her of the courtiers, the many nobles that her parents admonished or grumbled about for their treatment of people, and their attitudes in general. Her father had used his powers as King to block her suitors, but she had been flirted with by men like Arthur. She had not tolerated it then, but now it soothed her, and Arthur charmed her… 

If she did accept his proposal, she could return to normalcy. She could love him as long as his veneer did not cover deeper problems than the banality of nobility. Coughing again, Emma pulled up the covers around herself. 

"I've gotten myself some breakfast, and a grapefruit juice for you. I hope that you don't mind, I didn't know what you would like," Arthur said, accepting a plate of meat. He dug into it vigorously while Emma was given a tall glass with a straw. She eyed the liquid suspiciously. Grapefruit alone was a questionable breakfast, sour and entirely too much for a sore throat. Taking a sip, she gagged. 

Arthur didn't notice right away, too engrossed in his ham, bacon, and sausages. When he did notice, he sighed and took away the full glass. 

"What would you like then, little flower? Some yogurt? Pudding? Maybe a hot drink?" At the last suggestion, Emma nodded vigorously. Imagining silky hot chocolate or tea had her mouth watering. Jasmine had introduced her to a spicy mix of tea and something like cinnamon milk that had calmed her stomach but also made her feel invigorated. Trying to speak and failing with a squawk, Emma reached down to write down the drink for Arthur. 

"A Kay Tea? Kye? Chay? I don't know these foreign foods, maybe a nice hot water with lemon -" 

A servant interrupted, Arthur's eyes going steely. "Chai, a chai tea. It's popular here, and we also make a hot rice drink that is very good for -" 

"Did I ask you to speak?" Arthur gritted out, Emma pulling on his sleeve to get his attention. The servant shook her head, stepping back. "You deserve better than these strange commoner's peasant fare. I'll get you some actual tea." 

Emma shook her head, annoyed, but Arthur began to talk about his home and their varying teas. Emma's mind began to wander when he spoke about artisanal rose blends, thinking about a life in a strange kingdom. At least it was above ground, and had florals.

Tea was brought for them, and she took the tea cup carefully, examining the details. Taking a sip, she closed her eyes for a moment to savor the herbal taste. It wasn't what she wanted but it transported her home, to the marble floors and carved arches in the palace, the stone walkways and brightly lit rooms with their gilded mirrors. She could hear the rustle of skirts, clinking of spoons against small dessert plates, or the muted laughter of whatever nobility was presently sitting in front of her. 

Arthur smiled broadly at her as she opened her eyes, taking her free hand in his. "I did so hope you would like this better. You deserve the best life a royal woman of your pedigree can get."

Emma sighed at his choice of words, but a smile hadn't left her face since the first taste of his gift to her. Curling her hand in his, she managed to clear her throat. 

"I like it very much."

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  Arthur left in the early afternoon, kissing her softly and leaving with another peck on the crown of her head. There was business to attend to, her cure to work on most prevalently. Emma had felt worse since her last nightmare, alarmingly feeling something move around her chest as if there was a sticky ball rattling within the cavity. The doctors were still perplexed, doing their best to keep the soot sprites alive as the true issue remained elusive. Emma needed a cure, badly. Every day, the time she had grew shorter. 

Despite it all, she resolved to hide it the best she could. Not willing to spend her weeks in seclusion or in bed, she wanted to keep her kingdom safe and be with her friends. They would be the family she could not have. They would have to help her finish what parts of her journey they could. 

Killian would get the shard, and Jasmine would take over the United Realms as a proxy ruler until a ruler was announced. Emma prayed whoever it was, her parents and the rest of her family would be spared for her failure. It was the best she could do in the worst case scenario that she was living. At least Killian would be free, and maybe even happily living his life. He could be with Ingrid and Anna, carefully seeking out where they could get a house somewhere with a bakery and a garden. Maybe he would laugh more eventually, or smile, even with the Darkness free to abuse him further. The thought of him baking some pastry with flour in his hair made Emma feel a bizarre mixture of happiness and deep sadness. 

Ignoring it was enough for now. With what time she had left, she promised herself not to fixate on the mysteries that made up Killian. 

"You shouldn't be here, darling," he whispers, holding her hand. They're both shivering, the water from the rain frigid and mostly ice. He tugs her forward as they climb, thunder pounding around them as lightning illuminates the woods. "Why did you come to my nightmare?" 

"You can," Her hand slips on a slick stone, feet digging in the mud. She's still barefoot from before. He pulls and she is again next to him, lifting her onto a rocky ledge. "See me?" 

"I always could. I couldn't do anything but watch, I can never do anything but watch it happen." Holding her while they both shiver, soaked through, he runs a hand through her hair to push the clinging strands away from her face. The wind is strong, making even her dress flap in its gusts. His arms feel safe, even as her bones vibrate the warning of impending doom. As if he knows, he holds her tighter. "I could see you. I could hear you, and I could feel your hand in mine or when you bandaged my side. I'm sorry you had to see this."

"Killian…" Emma whispered, his forehead meeting hers. "Killian, don't go. Please. Don't let it take you from me."

There's a great clap of thunder, shaking the ground and roaring like a great monster. Killian pulls from her, her hand still in his as he moves away. 

"I'm sorry. It's better if you forget."

The Darkness is in its full glory before them, Killian looking at her with those eyes as it sucks him in. Clamoring for his hand but held by unseen forces and howling winds, Emma tries to bring him back to her, tries to hold on and not let go. Wind swirls around her, spinning until she's unable to breathe in its vacuum and let's go of his hand as she falls. 

"Breathe! That's it! She's coming to!" Someone was speaking, and Emma took in a hiss of air that hurt to exhale. Shaking off dizziness, she stared directly into the worried eyes of a doctor, Jasmine, Prince Ali, and Abu. 

"What happened?" Her mouth felt dry, but her voice was back to a rasping drawl. 

Jasmine hugged her tightly, followed by Ali who easily wrapped his arms around both of them. He was wearing sleeves instead of just a vest, and Emma was about to tease them both for their matching formal dress, but stopped short. She held her tongue, examining the long, jagged, scars that ran up his arm. Confused, Emma tried to talk, but Jasmine put a finger to her mouth. 

"Hush," Jasmine admonished. "You were walking with us in my apartments, then you collapsed. Are you alright? What happened?" 

"Oh. I think I must have simply over exerted myself," Emma mumbled. Jasmine's eyes narrowed, and Emma shrugged sheepishly. "I'm still learning my limits, so I just needed a break I guess. I didn't have much of a breakfast with Arthur."

Ali pushed away, looking at her with concern. "You had breakfast with Arthur?" 

Emma nodded. "In fact, I had come here to ask when his meeting with cure researchers would be over. I'm curious about their progression."

Ali scratched the back of his head, exchanging a glance with Jasmine. 

"Why don't you come sit down in my quarters," Jasmine asked politely. Abu smirked, looking at Ali as they helped Emma inside with the Anisapi guarding the door. 

Inside the chamber was a massive bed and vanity, with a sheer and dark set of curtains blocking a large balcony. Jasmine and Ali helped Emma onto the bed where she laid back against the heaping pillows. 

"What's the bad news, then?" Emma whispered. Ali swallowed hard, and Jasmine looked at her with a sad smile. 

"How do you know it's bad news?" 

Laughing lightly at Jasmine's question, Emma cocked her head slightly. "When is it ever good news?" 

"Jafar is gone. He - he was disqualified for an attempt at… He's just gone," Jasmine stated carefully. Ali looked angry for a moment before taking a deep breath. 

"Where is the bad news in that?" Emma asked carefully. 

"He took all the research, and ruined Hades and Arthur's. They were struggling to find a cure without this setback." Jasmine looked down. "We don't know -" 

"I understand."

"Emma -" 

"I don't need to hear it out loud. I don't need you to confirm what I'm already feeling. Tell me something else instead." Grinning, Emma pointed between Ali and Jasmine. "Like how your date was."

Jasmine blushed deeply, and Ali laughed with a smirk. 

"It was very nice." Jasmine smiled, looking to Ali with clear affection. 

"It must have been for you both to make out in the room of a sick person. It was an interesting wake up call." Emma giggled, Jasmine's eyes going wide as Ali burst into laughter. She blushed a bright red as he tickled her with the ends of her braid. "You two look happy. Not to rush things, but if you like him, fuck this entire suitor nonsense. Choose him."

"Emma!" Jasmine choked, laughing. Ali curled an arm around her and sat, nuzzling into her side. "It's - I want to know someone. We are doing just that, and I like this. Is that not what you are doing with Arthur?" 

"I suppose," Emma said coyly. Ali stiffened slightly, and she leveled her gaze at him. "Maybe tell me about this date of yours, and why it was so very nice."

Jasmine wove the tale of a starlight ride by magic carpet across her kingdom, shared honeyed fruits and tarts with pistachios baked on top. Aladdin showed her beauty she had never seen before, his modesty shining through embarrassment while he blushed. He occasionally added in moments, both of them laughing at the inside jokes they shared. 

Emma felt the same pang of sadness even through exhaustion, the same doubts that twisted into fear in her stomach. She could never imagine this with Arthur, and certainly not with Nil. The only one that had ever made her feel close to the warmth Jasmine and Aladdin gave off was… 

His eyes were soft, and she wished that he could just remember more strongly than ever as thunder rumbled outside her tiny cottage. 

"Stay here tonight. You… You told me once that you hate thunderstorms. I don't know if that has changed, if this you does or not, but…" Emma begged unabashedly, half asleep in his arms by the fire. "Please."

Even in her exhaustion, she reveled in his proximity. Looking down at her, he smiled sadly. “I'll stay, I always stay."

"Even if I don't remember you at all, please don't go," Emma whispered, and he nodded. 

"I'll stay. I always stay." Killian whispered again, holding her closer. Emma was sure her heart was breaking, the truth in his statement clear as crystal. He believed it without question, but Emma had heard the same promise fall from his lips before. "I will stay."

Burying her face in his chest, she prayed this time it was not a lie. 

Emma woke in her chambers, attached to various equipment by strange tubing, spells or wards hovering above her that rhythmically swayed. She blinked, confused, looking around to see Arthur by her bedside once more. He was engrossed in a book, his dark eyes scanning the pages. 

"Anything… interesting?" she asked, with a cough catching her on the last syllable. He held up a finger and continued reading several moments longer, then closed his book. 

"No, I'm afraid not. Mostly Naval tactics for bracing a coastal kingdom against raids." Arthur shrugged slightly. "Nothing I didn't already know, and certainly not reading that you would find interesting. You need to focus on getting better and not pushing yourself with such difficult topics."

He pressed a finger to her nose gently as if his quip diminishing her intelligence was amusing, then placed his book aside to get better seated next to her. Emma bit the inside of her cheek, irritation at his dismissal making her wish she could argue. Her lungs burned from the effort of a few words; the conversation that she wanted to have would be far more than that at best. 

"I like… Strategic… Planning… I like… Battlefield… Tactics… They are -" 

"Sure, sure, my rosebud," Arthur interrupted, patting her hand as if she was a child. "Now, I'd like to talk to you about something actually important, something that matters. Please pay me attention?" 

Emma stared at him in frustration, giving him a grunt of acknowledgement. 

"You fell asleep in the Sultana's chambers, so they brought you back here. You're pushing yourself too hard." He squeezed her hand, and Emma felt conflicted once again. Although annoying and pompous, Arthur was trying. He was attempting to be kind. "You need someone to help you, and to share your burden with. Especially now."

A spasm in her lower body sent her coughing, the intense fit making her back bow. She was sure that her ribs were close to breaking from the strain. 

Arthur wiped her forehead dutifully. He sighed again as she looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. 

"My sweet flower beauty, my dream, my Emma… Will you marry me?" 

Emma's eyes shot open wide, her heart racing. She could not speak, pained gasps catching in her throat as she stared at the ring box in his hands, the giant sparkling diamond in its center surrounded by rubies. The immediate hatred of its gaudy settings almost eclipsed her need for air. 

"Need… to think -" she tried, and Arthur nodded. 

"I understand, but I have something you need to see before you say no. It's important." His smile faded. 

Arthur began to talk, and Emma's heart sank. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Pacing the floor and practicing what he would say to Emma had become Killian's only way of handling her strange schedules of late. When he requested her, or simply strolled by her quarters as he often did due to their proximity, Arthur or Aladdin were not far off. Either that, or the princess had taken to small walks or napping which he could not blame her for in her condition. There had been minor commotions that he had heard the tail end of, but when he made sure that it was safe he only found servants, attendants, and perplexed doctors scrutinizing his presence. 

"Hello, Princess," he began, still not over his anxiety at trying to broach his distrust of the suitors along with their timing. "I have something of urgency to discuss with you."

"I want nothing to do with you, and your mood swings. Poison another Princess, Dark One."

The Darkness sneered in a falsetto impression of Emma's voice, and he felt like a green lad again. His heart beat rapidly as he gritted his teeth and continued. 

"Regarding the suitors and their timing -" 

"Yes, fortunately they came so I could be relieved of your presence. Thank the Gods for it; Arthur is a wonderful catch."

"- I believe that it is due to a planned surveillance attempt, and that they are seeking out our weaknesses. I think they are planning something -"  

"Planning a ball, or an event for me to be paraded at. I'll be a figurehead once more! I'll be better off with him and you will never have your freedom."

"To do you harm. I know that I have made many mistakes." Licking his lips, he swallowed hard. "But I would never let harm befall you if I could prevent it. Your well-being, your life being safe…" 

Understatement, vessel. You are the harm she needs to prevent. Her well-being is worthless as long as you and her Goblin betrothed exist. Except that your fate is me and her fate is to die some broodmare. 

"It's the only thing that makes it possible to ignore the Darkness," he whispered, and in turn the Darkness growled in a low rumble of fury. "Please consider what I've said."

He practiced repeatedly, until a knock came at his door. A voice called out behind the wood, one of the servants. "Ah, sir? Your presence is requested by Arthur in the library. Are you able to -" 

Killian opened the door, brushing past the messenger as he walked straight to meet Arthur. It was a bold play on their part, but if he could talk to Emma first… He passed her room, noticing the lights dimmed within. Jasmine and Aladdin sat on a lounge, whispering to each other while an herbalist created a purple smoke that smelled of thick mint and blackberry. It poured over Emma, who behind the veil of her curtains did not move much more than a shuddered wheeze. 

He couldn't risk it now; Emma would have to understand the delay in his confessions.

The walk was brisk, his haste to hold off the Darkness, any other visitors, and her illness setting him in double time. 

The library doors pushed open, the deep purple walls within lit by a fire bowl resting in its center. Arthur sat lounging on an emerald and magenta couch smoking a hookah in large puffs, smiling broadly as he saw Killian. 

"Well hello, Dark One. Nice of you to join me, care for -" 

"What is it that you need, Arthur?" Killian growled. The room was filled with a light layer of smoke. "I have things I need to be -" 

"I thought you and I might share a celebratory drink and smoke. I hadn't gotten a congratulations yet and it's probably untoward without her actual confirmation, but…" He took another long drag of the hookah's hose, puffing out a long tendril of smoke. "I digress." 

Killian grunted, waving a hand in the air to clear his vision. "I have no idea what you're talking about mate, but I don't intend to celebrate with you. If you'll excuse me -" 

"I proposed to her. To Princess Emma, I mean."

Whipping around, Killian took a step forward, staring at Arthur with wide eyes. "You what?" 

"I proposed to her," Arthur repeated. "She's dying, Jafar is gone, Hades can't find a cure, Jasmine isn't interested in me, and Emma is. I'm not going to waste the opportunity to be considered a viable candidate to rule in her stead." He grinned, rubbing his beard in thought. "If I can get her to last through a marriage ceremony, that's all the better. If she can stay alive longer than that, I can claim loss of an heir by her untimely end. She knows it's in her best interest to accept."

"She won't. She'd never -" 

"She would. A servant said she asks for a Goblin to dissect her dreams that I am in. It's just a matter of time." Arthur smirked, leaning back in the chair. "It's alright to be jealous, Dark One. For all your fearsome reputation, the fact that you haven't drank your fill of her is surprising. If I was in your stead, I'd have left her wrapped around my fingers both figuratively and literally!" he laughed, and Killian stood abruptly, storming away. 

Arthur sprinted up behind him, still chuckling. "Come now, don't be angry, I was only joking. She's a fair maid if I've ever seen one. Even this illness can't dampen her beauty or how her body moves with so much…" He gestured with both hands, making two mirrored curving motions. Killian's teeth ground together, his muscles tensing. " Grace ."

"Arthur, mate, if you know what is good for you, you will -" 

"Are you mad about her dying? Is that it? I thought the Darkness in you would rejoice at that, especially since the shard is in the care of the Sultana." Killian turned on his heel, the Darkness heavy as it pushed up from the binds he'd tried to place on it. Arthur followed, at his side hounding him with his mockery. Covering his mouth with his hand, he mimed a face of false confusion and shock. "Oops. I guess you didn't know? And here I thought you and her were close."

"I will tear you apart mate," Killian snarled. "I will rend you limb from bloody limb -" 

"So that's it then. She's your weak spot, the Darkness isn't at rest. I had guessed it was on a thin leash chomping at the bit, but no. It's right under the surface if you know where to dig." Arthur's smile was wide now, his eyes dark. "How very, very interesting."

Hades appeared from the gloom, becoming corporeal from a column of dense, black smoke. "Can we drop the charade then? I'm frankly ready for this to be over."

"I'd rather wait for Emma's answer to my proposal, as now that the Darkness is awake I believe it will be a long while until our cover is blown. The shard awaits you, Dark One." Killian felt himself slipping further with each second, the undertow pulling him down while raising the Darkness from where it had laid in wait. It had control now, its prior mutterings nothing compared to its screeching at him as Arthur smiled. "You simply have to take the matters into your own hands." 

"My… Own… Hands…" Killian heard it speak through him, his panic rising as he lost control. "The shard. The shard ."

"Go. Get what was taken from you," Hades added before disappearing. 

"It lies in the treasure vault near the Sultana's apartment. Get what is yours, Dark One. Get what is yours and return to glory." Arthur gave a small bow, and Killian felt the Darkness pull him away, moving him against his will through the palace. 

"No! This isn't right -" he gritted, and held on firmly to a carved column. A servant stared at him as he passed, hurrying away much quicker when a fresh snarl rose in his throat. 

Get the SHARD. 

Get the shard and be done with this! 

"No, I - I can't -" 

How dare you deny me? I am your master, I am you! 

"I won't. I have to protect her, I have to warn her!" He tried to move his foot, but lurched forward instead. In an instant, he was before the treasury Arthur had mentioned, the magic on him fizzing from the internal power struggle. The door locks were enchanted, but the Darkness controlled his left side, his arm lurching forward to touch the lock. It clicked open within seconds of dark magic drenching it in full force. 

"No! Stop!" His right hand caught the door frame and held tight, the left side of his body pulling him forward as the right held back. He groaned in pain as the Darkness attempted to tear him in twain. "I will not let you, I won't!" 

He violently slammed to the ground, his left hand pulling him forward as his nails dug into the marble tiling. Several guards approached in concern but the black magic of the Darkness spun around him like a cobweb, dropping him in front of the pedestal that held the shard. He heard shouts of confusion from a small distance as his left hand made a flicking motion, barring the door with a screech of the locking mechanism. 

MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE AT LAST YES IT IS MINE - 

Killian wrestled with himself as his left hand desperately tried to close around the chain, throwing himself back with effort. He pushed back at the Darkness desperate to get it under control as it broke him, bent him, and refused his hold. 

Realizing with keen certainty there was only one way out of this, he took a deep breath, then let go of control. The Darkness grabbed a hold of the chain, shrieking its triumph, and Killian used its momentary lapse to move them. 

As he appeared in Emma's chambers and stretched to throw it at her, the Darkness became aware at the same moment as him that something was wrong, his body frozen with his arm stuck mid-throw. 

His eyes widened further to look at the grim faces surrounding him, all but a grinning Arthur wearing varying states of disgust. 

"Emma, bloody hell, I -" 

"As you can see, we caught him using Kraken ink. It temporarily causes paralysis, even on the most powerful of dark magic." Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose dramatically. "He went for the fake shard without a moment's hesitation, and then I believe his return to your quarters, Princess, was with the intention of taking your life." 

"No! No, I swear it, Emma. I swear I realized that I was out of control, and I was scared for you. I came to return it. If it's left where I can find it, the Darkness will never stop. You must hide it again -"

"A likely excuse now that he's caught!" Hades pointed out. 

Turning his eyes towards Emma, he realized just how long it had been since he had seen her. She was a gaunt caricature of what she had been with hollowed cheeks, the skin beneath her eyes darkened to the color of bruises. Her hair stuck to her face in stringy strands as her chest struggled to rise, and she breathed using a strange line of tubing in her nose with obvious effort. Her eyes were still bright jade, staring through him as they grew glassy and she tore them away from his own. 

"Emma, please..." His fingers twitched at the attempt to reach for her, his arms stuck by the ink’s magic. 

Emma shook her head, unable to look at him. 

"I am begging you Emma. Aladdin - Ali - is a thief and working with these two; I don't know why. I don't know what they're after, but they aren't working on a cure. Don't listen to a word -"

"Princess, I'm so sorry for this. I didn't want you to have to know the truth when I thought the Dark One and you were so close," Hades began. "There is no cure I can find, because… Well, because Ali discovered from the Dark One's own admission, he caused this illness in you."

"That's - Emma please listen to me, I never - I wouldn't." Killian felt his other arm twitch upwards, Emma's eyes downcast. "Please let me explain!" 

"No. No, I think you have done enough," Aladdin said, quietly. "You told me that you were the cause, and I kept your secret because I feared for the Sultana and the Princess’s lives. Now that it's out in the open, we can admit that we are no match for the Dark One's handiwork."

"That's not -" 

"Take him away," the Sultana hissed. "I want him in the dungeons, lock him in the best cell we have. Unless, do you have objections Emma?" 

"I…" Emma looked up, coughing for a moment as she stared at him with clear pity. "I have no objections." The whisper of her voice made him swallow hard, managing a small nod. 

He was led away, placed in the dark damp of a cell so much like the one he had lived in before, wondering again if this was the punishment he so rightfully deserved. 

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 18: Protostar

Protostar: A young star that is still gathering mass from its parent nebula

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Keith stares at the Galra ship. It’s Imperial, to be sure, with Emperor Zarkon’s sigil glowing on the side. But it’s not his armada ship, a massive, hulking behemoth that somehow has never known a planet. It’s a smaller vessel not even equipped with a komar laser, because everyone’s friends now. Or will be tomorrow.

Keith won’t be on that ship, anyway. He’ll be on a smaller one, just him and his littermate.

Thin, slender hands find his shoulders. “Keith?”

Keith turns, smiling at his mother. “Hi, Mom.”

Krolia’s face is agony as she brushes the longer, lavender fur framing his jaw. “This is not why I agreed to be the emperor’s advisor. Not so I could see my only kit stolen away from me.”

“I’m not being stolen away-”

“No, you’re being sold to an overbred king and his little whore of a son.”

“You didn’t seem to mind when it was Lotor, Allura, and Romelle. Romelle isn't even royalty. She was just a student of Alfor's!”

“Those were not my kits!” Krolia hisses, mother’s instinct running hot and fast. “You are! And still very much a kit, I might add!”

“You, Kolivan, and Shiro trained me. You know that if said little whore wants to touch me-”

“You will do nothing! You’ll bear down and do whatever he asks of you and you know it!” Krolia bares her teeth at him.

Keith swallows a chirp at her words. They're frightening. He glares at the red stone beneath his feet. He doesn’t know how to ease his mother. “I’ll do whatever it takes, not whatever he asks… How do you know he’s a little whore, anyway?”

“Rumor and conjecture from the Alteans has reached us. Alfor should be more careful about who he brings with him on his little trips. That 'Lord Lanval' went on at some length once I showed the slightest interest. He talked all about the escapades he’s been on with the prince. Not something any mother would want for her kit, no matter their age.”

“I’ll be okay. I promise. And if not, you’ll get what you want. The little whore, dead.” Keith embraces his mother. Krolia runs a hand through her son’s long, long hair, draws back to see how it frames his face.

“Altean males wear their hair shorter than this.”

“I’m a Galra. I wear my hair however I want. This is how I want it.”

“Because you find it pretty?”

“Is it not pretty?” Keith’s vanity is something only three people know of, one being his mother.

“It’s beautiful, kitten.” Keith ducks his head at the common endearment, hiding a tiny smile. Krolia turns him, works his hair into a braid, tying a knot into the end. “If they cut it, we’re calling it an act of war.”

She kisses the top of his head and Keith smiles. For much of his childhood, he’s missed his mother dearly. He’s aching inside knowing it’s his turn to tear them apart.

Krolia inhales sharply, hands finding Keith’s shoulders, squeezing them tightly. Keith's smile weakens as Shiro approaches. Shiro smiles back, gray eyes warm. “It’s time to go.”

“Now? I thought we were leaving later.”

“You and I are leaving now. Our ship moves more slowly than the imperial cruiser.”

“Right.” Keith takes a deep breath, throws his arms around his mother, rubbing their cheeks together, blending their scents.

Krolia gently rubs the base of one of his ears, whispering softly. “You’ll make a wonderful prince, kitten, and a magnificent king. Just you wait.”

“I’d like to be a better man than that, I think.”

Krolia pulls back first, probably because she knows it’s the one thing her kit doesn’t have the strength for. “Wouldn’t we all?” Her sharp gaze finds Shiro. “You take care of my kit and see him safe to Altea or so help me you will shovel elk shit until the day you die.”

“I believe you.”

Shiro puts an arm around Keith, guides him into their small ship. Keith's shaking, an anxious chirp passing his lips unbidden. As the ramp lifts closed, he turns back just in time to see his mother looking lost and alone. As the craft lifts off, hovering above the planet, Keith sits at the window and watches his home grow small. The Lone Sea glitters bright blue just off the pole, the Wood, the Red Waste, mountain ranges like teeth, savannahs, the Stone Forest all visible from space. His home, ever shrinking from view, the moons hovering just behind.

And then it's gone. His home is gone, hidden from view and Keith struggles to breathe. Around him, the hum of the ship stops, the violet lights fading to a dull glow.

“Shiro, what-”

“You’re my littermate.”

“Of course I am. How could I be anything else?” What is Shiro talking about?

“Come here. I want you to look at something.”

Keith gets up, comes to the pilot’s chair, gazes out at an infinite nothing dotted with stars. “I don’t really see anything. Just… nothing. It’s beautiful.”

It is. It makes him feel big and small at the same time. Like he could go anywhere, do anything, be anyone he wanted.

“Yeah. Being a soldier, I easily forget a lot how beautiful it can be. Use your third lens, there.” Shiro points, fingertip a mere spot from the glass. There's a bit of a haze, there. A blend of faint red and blue that shouldn't be there. Keith does as he’s told, engaging his third lens, the one that saturates color, lets him see what might otherwise not be seen. His kind once used them to send secret messages to one another, until the method was discovered by the Alteans.

In front of him, spreading as far as he can see, is a mass of blue and red gasses swirl like a vortex, stars living within, both being born and-

“Look.” Keith points, mouth agape, at a noticeably massive star. “That one. It’s dying. Why?”

“It grew too big in the nebula. It can’t sustain its size. The larger a star is, the faster it fades.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“The most hated truth of all: death is beautiful.”

“You’re clearly thinking along the same lines as my mother.”

“You’re a kit. It’s my instinct. You’re also my littermate and my friend. I only want the best for you.”

“I know.”

“This is your last chance, Keith. They will know by now that we have left. They are already trying to make contact... Say the word, and we will never reach Altea. I swear it.”

Keith has never been more scared in his life, as another chirp can attest. He put on a brave face for his mother, but the truth of it is that if he could, he’d fly through that nebula and into the cosmos on the other side. And he can. Shiro will take him in a tick, in a heartbeat, never leave his side as they run their entire lives. But he won’t.

He won’t flee, not because Emperor Zarkon gave him an order, but for all the little people that shrank into nothing as he left his homeworld. He won’t flee, because those people are but three fifths of the people he is saving.

Death may be beautiful, but so is life. Everything in its time.

“We continue on to Altea,” he whispers, another, tinier chirp following.

“As you wish,” Shiro murmurs, rubbing Keith’s ear. Keith purrs, smiles at his adoptive littermate.

“Shiro?”

“Hm?”

“Look after my mom for me?”

“I’ll look after all of Daibazaal for you, especially your mother. You look after Altea. Gods know we all need it.”

“Whatever I can do, I will do it.”

Shiro bows his head, restarts the engines. As the ship's core begins to warm again, Keith notices the closest star, off to the side of the frontal glass. It's a new star, not very young, but not yet finished growing either. Not burning hot blue, the warm red star twinkles as it gathers its strength, dreaming of the day when it can drift freely in the infinite void. Perhaps it will find a star to share orbit with, a solar system to preside over. The possibilities are endless.