#and then she just never really shook it. even though it's harder in the desert where the ground is so often soft

[ru5t]

scale of 1 to 10 how unsettled would your character be if Tech recognized them by footstep and/or another movement sound of theirs?

[obliqueblade]

Desert Duo Chapter 4- I do not have a Crush: Grian's POV

Grian POV

This was not the direction that Grian had expected his life to go. Well, he might not remember what direction he had originally expected his life to go. Still, he was reasonably certain that grading papers and judging if/ how many of his students had used ChatGBT to write their papers was something he had planned on. 

If Grian had the time to spare, he’d take the time to destroy the infernal device. 

Releasing a deep sigh, Grian leaned back in his office chair and spared a glance out the windows to his left. His office was on the top floor of the science building, and while the students, and only the students, hated the steep stairs when they had to meet with him, Grian loved the view from over campus. The campus was unfortunately nestled in the middle of the city, which meant billboards for as far as the eye can see, the science building was surrounded by more trees than most places within Upper City. Grian's office in particular had the best view of the greenhouses behind the building. There, the university boasted about all of the “foreign and endangered” species of plants. Grian knew that if any of the students could see beyond the wall, they would see just how common the plants were. 

From this distance, the 75-meter walls were far enough away that Grian could pretend they weren’t there at all. Of course, that was difficult to pretend when the sun had started to descend and all of Upper City grew dark only a few hours after noon. 

Still though, for being in a cage, the view at least was nice. 

Glaring back at the stack of ungraded papers, Grian would appreciate the view more if he wasn’t stuck there till after nightfall to get them all graded. While the sun was not yet completely gone, Grian knew he wouldn’t be able to leave before nightfall if he were to sit and attempt to grade them all. 

He closed his eyes and weighed the pros and cons of leaving the other half till tomorrow. He would have to come in earlier to get through them before the period began. An image of Scar's grinning face from that morning went through his mind, and Grian shook his head. No, that wouldn’t work. Perhaps he could just postpone handing them back till the day after. His students may not appreciate it, but Grian did not appreciate having to spend hours checking for cheating. 

Fair is fair. 

Plus, Grian was really craving a coffee now. 

Standing up, Grain's joints popped. They frequently did, and some of his students laughed and said he sounded like an old man every time he complained about his body aching. Grian had laughed with his students, not wanting to address he was far removed from just being ‘old’. At a certain point in his life, he had crossed that line, and Grian didn’t want to spend that much time trying to figure out when this happened. 

So far, aside from how it occurred, Grian could hardly remember anything from before. Even the spaces between were nearly impossible to remember most days. There were days when he was frightened of just how far his memory would dilapidate. 

When he would be unable to recall the names of those he held dear. 

Grian couldn’t even be sure if he would know it even happened. If it hadn’t happened already. 

Were there people from before? Those he swore to keep safe that he couldn’t remember any longer? Perhaps he should ask Jimmy about this. He was, after all, the only one who might understand what he meant—the only one who might not regard him as crazy. At one time, there were more, but … not anymore. 

Once again, Grian thought of Scar, before dismissing that. 

“If I may though, about Cute Guy, I worry that they aren’t being safe, for sure, but hurting people? She would never.”

Grian was thankful he had centuries to work on controlling his expressions because all he wanted to do was squeal like a teenager at Scar’s remark. Or do something that would have been much harder to explain as a “human” action. Scar had no reason to trust the hybrid, and while Scar was seemingly endlessly kind, there was nothing Scar would seemingly get from saying this to Grian. 

He had meant it. 

Even though Scar had no idea that Cute Guy was Grian, and had never met Cute Guy he still felt the need to justify Cute Guy. All while understanding Grian’s apparent hesitancy to trust the hybrid. 

He had not necessarily lied to Scar either though. Cute Guy was dangerous- Grian knew that better than anyone. 

Looking out the window once more, Grian decided sitting and reminiscing was probably dangerous for his heart so coffee it was. Coffee would be less harmful to his heart than pinning over something that Grian had long sworn could not happen. 

Swearing that had been much easier before meeting him though. 

Grian scrambled around his office for a bit, trying to hunt his keys down before eventually finding them almost entirely consumed in papers. Glaring once more at the papers Grian was sure were beginning to grow sentience, Grian headed to the door. Shutting the lights off and closing the door behind him Grian readied himself for the five flights of stairs he would need to descend before being able to leave. 

As much as he would love to just, ya know, fly down, that would be a bit difficult to explain if any of his students saw him. Or if cameras captured the event. While it was simple to edit footage, Grian had done it several times before, it was more effort than it was worth when Grian could in fact just walk. 

After a grueling couple of minutes of stairs, Grian had reached the bottom and was pretending that his lungs didn’t want to burst out of his chest. Just in case anyone was watching. 

Leaving the building, Grian made a beeline for where he had parked that morning. While the architect's building was just about the furthest point from Grian’s office, he had continued to park here every morning for the past several months. 

“You don’t have to park over here. I know it must be inconvenient for you”

Scar had laughed, humorlessly after saying it, and Grian felt his heartache at the response.  

“Oh please, if anything you’re helping me get my steps in,” Grian had laughed in response, knowing Scar had no way of knowing how animated he was in the classroom nor the stairs he went up several times a day. Shame filled him though after saying it, knowing he was a coward for not addressing the issue. Grian knew far more than most that overwhelming feeling that your mere existence was doing more harm than good. To be seen as an inconvenience. Something that you constantly felt the need to apologize for.  

Now, Grian stopped in front of his car and looked up at the building he knew Scar spent most of his time in. He wasn’t sure where his office was. Jimmy made fun of him enough for driving Scar to work in the mornings, Grian didn’t need to give him any more ammo by discussing the ongoings of visiting his office. 

Especially after yesterday. Jimmy had gone through several emotions before Mumbo cleared him and Jimmy settled on mocking him.

Sighing again, Grian unlocked his car and got in. He had offered to give Scar a ride home as well, but he had denied it, saying he had a friend who would. 

Grian hadn’t pressed. 

Was that how he referred to Grian if someone asked how he got to work? 

Was Grian a friend to Scar? 

Could he even be?

Shaking the negative thoughts from his head, Grian started up his car and began backing out of the space, focusing entirely on the drive. So long as he focused he could ensure that his mind would not wander and have him second guess decisions he had already made. 

Leaving the campus, Grian took the familiar route to one of the few places in Upper City where he felt safe. 

The Berri Café. 

He had helped the two hybrids set it up after, and while only one worked full-time at the café, he still visited at least twice a week. He met with nearly all of the hybrids within Upper City at least once a month, doing check-ins and ensuring no one had fallen into trouble. After all, Grian was the reason that most hybrids made it into Upper City. 

During the drive, Grian made a point to avoid looking at the new posters featuring his alter ego, or was Grian the alter at this point, as well as the numerous wanted posters filtering through their list of “criminals”. It had been hard enough accepting what had happened all those years ago, but nothing could have prepared him for the gut punch that the updated wanted board would cause him. Jimmy nearly hadn’t been able to talk him down from going into a full-out war with the Hero Association after that. 

Unfortunately, Grian had noticed Scars' habit of staring at them. He never talked about them, but every morning, Scars' gaze never failed to land on one of the screens flickering through the individuals. Sometimes, Grian wanted to ask, demand he state whatever problem he had about the faces presented. 

Faces Grian was all too knowledgeable on. 

But, Grian knew it wasn’t Scar he was really angry at. Not really. Some days he wasn’t even sure if the Hero Association was who he was mad at. 

You. You. You. 

He was just unfortunate enough to know what that list really was. That wasn’t Scars’ fault, and it wasn’t something Grian could hold against him.

Scar would never be unfortunate enough to know the true nature of the signs. 

A warning. 

To the Hybrids. 

To the ones from Evo. 

To him. 

A list of their accomplishments. 

Hearing the steering wheel splitter slightly, Grian looked down to notice his hands radiating a faint purple glow, the material under giving way to the new overwhelming force. Taking a deep breath, Grian attempted to calm down. They were safe. 

For now, some dark recess of his mind provided helpfully that Grian decided to ignore. After all these centuries, Grian had gotten better at suppressing that part of him. Glancing at the splintered sterling wheel once more though, better, but not perfect. 

Finally, the cafe came into view and Grian turned into the parking lot, noting the darkened windows. Considering the time, the actual cafe was closed by now, but that suited Grian’s needs just fine. 

This was not the first time Grian had visited this late, and Joel had yet to turn him away. Mainly since if Grian wanted in- Grian was going to get in. This did mean Joel would tease him relentlessly, absolutely, but never turn away. Plus it helped that he didn’t need a key to get in and out of the building. 

Grian absentmindedly wondered if Lizzy would be joining them, but since she started working as a paramedic a few years after getting the shop set up, her hours tended to change suddenly. Plus, she was one of the only ones that the hybrids had that could provide medical assistance, so there were times when she was still called away. Joel handled this about as well as could be expected. 

Grian almost had to step in at one point though. Lizzie had to cross back into Lower City to help after one of the newer pigmen had gotten into one of the towns. She had originally been meant to stay for two weeks to make sure there were no complications, but Grian had to cross back over and bring her back, as he had been convinced Joel was going to give himself food poisoning from one of the cakes he had taken ‘creative measures’ with. 

Grian may no longer be considered “man”, but he was pretty sure some of the deserts Joel made could kill a God. Though, now that Grian thinks about it, that was probably intentionally done. 

Getting out of the car, Grian shook the remaining negativity from himself. He and everyone here knew what they were signing into in going back. While they didn’t get a choice in the beginning, Grian made sure to give them a choice now. 

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. 

Grian sighed, turning on his heel and clicking the car lock as he made his way to the entrance of the cafe. There was a time and place for that negativity, Grian could hold it off for now. 

Approaching the door, Grian didn’t waste a moment before phasing his hand through and unlocking the deadbolt before opening the door. See, personal keys. 

Crossing the entryway Grian checked to see where Joel might have been, noting the empty and dark cafe floor. Sensing movement upstairs Grian narrowed his eyes. More than just one person, but Lizzie likely was not home so who… Grian paused a moment before rolling his eyes, recognizing the presence. 

Heading up the stairs, Grian made his way to the living space above the cafe. Moving silently, Grian phased through the door and continued to where he could now hear voices. 

“... Joel, please, please, tell me you did not put that in the cake,” 

“... Yeah, what do you mean? Am I not supposed to?” 

Grian took that moment to step around the corner and ask “What’s Joel done this time?” 

Synchronized screams filled the air as both Jimmy and Joel riled around to face Grian, as he mostly hid his mischievous grin. 

“Grian! How many times have I asked you to knock!” Joel exclaimed, but Grian knew he was more upset that he hadn’t been let in on the prank against Jimmy. 

“I’m not sure, I stopped listening after the first thirty times,” Grian responded truthfully. After a while, Grian had hoped they would get better at detecting his presence. Never know when it would be useful. 

“And Jimmy, you have got to get better at noticing my presence when I’m using my skills. It’ll be helpful to you later.” Grian flicked his glaze over to Jimmy who sighed and looked away. 

“Now what’s this I hear about Joel baking new recipes again?” 

Immediately, Joel moved to hide the table. 

“Nothing,” 

“... Joel. What have we talked about trying new recipes when you’re unsupervised?” 

“That it is an affront to the Gods, and will get us exposed?” Joel tentatively asked. 

“It’s bad Grian. I only came in halfway and by then it was too late to stop him.” 

Grian and Joel stared at each other for a tense few moments, before Grian jerked forward to witness the new monstrosity that Joel had created. Joel moved to keep it covered, but Grian was quicker. 

“Joel! What is that?” 

“... it was meant to be a cake,”

“In what world does a cake look like that?” The last word was practically spat as the cake seemed to sludge in response. How Joel had been able to create something Grian as a biologist was tempted to call a life form was confounding. 

“Well, if Doc ever needed another new design for his creations, he could always hit up Joel for ideas,” Jimmy offered and Grian only paled more. 

Turning to look Joel in his eyes, Grian muttered tone near deadly, “If I ever have to fight a monster that turns into cake sludge, Joel, I’m sending you to the other side of the planet for a hundred years in a cage made of the stuff.” 

“Understood.” Joel moved the disgrace to nature to its garbage bag, waiting and considering a moment before wrapping it up twice. Just in case. 

“Speaking of fighting though,” Joel started and Grian’s stomach sank as he turned his gaze away from watching the dish in case it made any sudden movements. 

“I saw your little accident yesterday on the news. I thought you were meant to be keeping yourself “on the down low”. A whole building collapsing did not seem to be all that under the radar.” 

“That would be because I wasn’t the one who did it. Doc has clearly been busy while we’ve been away.” 

“Oh great. Which ones did he upgrade this time?” 

“Creepers.” 

“Creepers?” Joel shot back incredulously, his voice rising in pitch. For good reason too. Making advancements to creepers was near impossible, due to their nasty tendency to explode when in contact with anything other than a monster. Even they had struggled with it, Grian remembered bitterly, though that had been over 2,00 years ago. Clearly, they’ve been able to make progress in all that time. 

“How in the world did he manage that?” 

“We aren’t sure. What concerns me more is how they were able to get so deep into the city without us noticing.”

“I’ve reviewed every last crossing for the past two weeks but so far nothing. It’s not uncommon for monsters to find their way into the city, but those that have been altered have to be let in. I just can’t figure out from where,” Jimmy added sighing deeply before plooping onto the coach. Grian felt a rise of sympathy for Jimmy. The entire city border was his to account for. Listen for, Grian thought harshly. It was a demanding job, especially at times like these. 

“How did it even happen? Everyone knows not to get close to Creepers on account of ya know… they tend to kamikaze,” 

“Oh that we can blame the ‘number one hero’ for,” Jimmy mutters practically spitting the name. 

“Jimmy,” Grian quickly reprimanded. Jimmy’s dislike of the hero was nothing new, but it was not really due to the hero himself. Usually, at least. 

“Well, I’m not wrong!”

“Hot Guy had no way of knowing his arrow would cause it to explode nor that the blast would be that big.”

“But he wasn’t the one that came stumbling home with their back torn to smithereens and barely conscious! No, he jumps into interviews and on camera and doesn’t even mention that it’s his fault in the first place!” 

“Jimmy, enough!? 

“Grian he has a point though. Yesterday might have been an accident, but Hot Guy was never a part of the plan. If something was to go wrong…” 

“Listen, I understand your concerns, but Hot Guy is not the Hero Association. He’s human, and sometimes they make mistakes. I am made of things stronger than humans, and sometimes that means I will take the brunt of the damage. Hot Guy is not going to change the plan,” Grian commanded, holding eye contact with Jimmy as he did so. 

  The room fell quiet once more as Jimmy and Joel slumped into the couch. Grian reminded himself that deep down neither of them truly held resentment toward Hot Guy. Only what he represented and his options to remain almost entirely ignorant of the truth of the world. Something that while they might hold resentment for, Grian never really could. Though maybe that was because he had met the hero. 

“Grian, we’re only saying this because we care about you. I may not have been there when… when everything happened, but there are people here who care deeply about you. We just don’t want to see you get in over your head.” Joel responded and Grian pondered that carefully. 

By this point, most of the members from before were long gone. If they had made it past everything all those centuries ago, only Jimmy and Grian remained now. A pang shot through his heart, a waking reminder of those he had lost. 

Of those, he had killed. 

Grian and Jimmy are merely walking reminders of a time that no longer exists. A time that Grian wasn’t sure if it could ever exist again. While over the centuries more hybrids had joined their cause, none of them were old enough to remember a time before. Some days though, Grian wasn’t sure he could either. 

“I appreciate it, Joel. Jimmy, I know that you mean well, and I know lately things have been more tense, but everything is okay. We’re together in this.” 

Jimmy remained quiet but nodded his head. Grian almost felt bad for lying to him, but he had long ago created this plan. While the others knew most, they could not know everything.

Not yet. 

Silence once again filled the room, and Grian wasn’t sure how to address it. He knew things were still going to be tense, a few words of reassurance wasn’t going to change that. At the very least though, it was a start. 

Grain's head shot up towards the door, as the bell went off in the downstairs cafe. 

Someone had just entered the building. 

Both Jimmy and Joel followed his gaze, tensing up as well. After a moment though, Grian relaxed. 

“It’s okay, only Lizzie,” 

Immediately, Joel perked up as he shot up off the couch. Grian rolled his eyes as Jimmy laughed at the action. While Joel didn’t need to use a lot of power to conceal his hybrid attributes, so he could keep it up practically indefinitely, Grian could swear he saw Joel’s tail wagging. 

A few moments went by as the sounds of footsteps grew closer. Then- 

“Why are there so many people in my living room?” Lizzie's voice rang out as the door unlocked and swung open. 

“Well if it was for a surprise party, using your instincts before opening the door would have ruined it now wouldn’t it have?” Grian called back as Joel swept his wife up in a hug. You’d have thought she had been gone a month, instead of the few hours Grian knew they had been separated for. 

“Oh, like you didn’t know I was there from the moment I unlocked the door downstairs,” Lizzie responded before returning Joel’s hug. Grian did not bother replying, knowing that Lizzie knew she was right.

“Ah, this does remind me though, how's your morning rendezvous going, Grian?” Jimmy asked conversationally, his tone light, but Grian could sense the teasing lying underneath it. Grian immediately tensed and fought the color from rising to his cheeks. Oh, the joys of having a sibling. Why, oh why, did Jimmy have to witness him dropping Scar off that one morning? He’s never let him live it down since.

“A morning rendezvous? Wait, you’ve still been offering rides with that architecture  professor?” 

“Perhaps,” Grian responded hesitantly, eyes settling on a fascinating vase in the corner of the room. Truly, a marvel. 

“A 2,000-year-old god, crushing on a sarcastic geeky professor. I’m almost tempted to write a novel,” 

“I am not crushing,” Grian practically spit the last word out. How dare they accuse me of having something as mundane as having a crush. The sheer audacity. 

“Grian, I’m married and you’re making me feel as if I’m single,” 

“That’s because you’re needy” Jimmy quickly offered up, as all good friends should. 

“I am not-”

“Joel. When Lizzie goes to work you literally whine,”

“Well, I-I can’t help that.” Jole, rightly so, whined. 

“We know. You’re needy. Now let's get back to pestering Grian about, frankly his embarrassing crush,” Lizzie quickly cut them off before Joel could get Jimmy back. 

“You don’t have to” Grian quickly assured over the sounds of Joel sputtering as he looked at his wife in betrayal, however, it landed on deaf ears. Grian has decided that his friends are the worst. 

“Or we can talk about the new amazing posters that are now decorating the downtown? Lizzie offered and Joel turned to look at her confused. Nope, now, Grian has decided his friends are the worst. He’s shipping them all back to the other side of the wall, and Mumbo is going to take over everything. 

Yep, that’s the only option. Grian was sure that Mumbo would appreciate all of the new responsibilities. Though, Grian did not doubt that if Mumbo was here he’d be leading the charge against his good name. Honestly, Grian should just cut his losses. 

“What new posters?” Joel asked and Grians heart sunk into his stomach, knowing what was about to happen. Looks like Grian was going to be spending the rest of the day planning on how he was going to ship them all off. There was no way that he was going to be able to survive the incoming ridicule from his closest friends. 

“You haven’t seen?”

“I was… busy” Joel offered looking sideways into the kitchen. Grain weighed the odds of ratting Joel out, but he wasn’t quick enough before Lizzie continued. 

“Here, I’ll show you,” 

“Actually, no, I don’t think that all that necessary,” Grian hastily said but it was too late. Lizzie had her phone whipped out and the image pulled up. Grian was almost impressed by how quickly she had the image up and ready to go.

The room was deathly silent before– 

“Bwhahahaha! Oh Grian, mate, they got your good side and everything!” 

“They’re everywhere too. Gave me a heart attack when I left my flat this morning.” Jimmy continued peering over Lizzie's shoulder. Frankly, Grian was amazed the image wasn’t burned into his head like it was in his head. He wasn’t sure if another two millennia was enough time to forget something so traumatic. 

“Really, I think we should just be glad they don’t have any audio of his voice. Then we’d never be free,” Joel said rather hauntingly.     

“You’re lucky I don’t need Lizzie to run over to the other side for the time being or I swear Joel,” Grian threatened in return. Joel merely smiled, unbothered by the rather weak threat, Grian had to admit. Especially since Grian has made it before. Only now, Grian was seriously considering the logistics of it. Though, it might not be worth Joel baking again.

“Speaking of though, Grian, I’ve got a few more that need a crossing,” Lizzie said, and the room grew more serious. Grian was almost thankful for Lizzie freeing him from the rest of the teasings, but crossings were never easy. Crossings were dangerous, only to be done only under very specific circumstances. A part of the agreement that hybrids had to sign to cross in the first place was that they had to completely cut themselves off from anything that could trace them to the other side. When they get to Upper City, they are to remain there, unless something forces them out of the city. Anything other than that is too dangerous. It wouldn’t be the first time the Watchers had discovered a hybrid within the city. 

“How bad?” 

“Nothing major. They weren’t compromised, but one of the younger ones has been sick. Her parents are worried she won’t be able to keep up the transformation with her energy level.” 

This wasn’t all that uncommon for younger hybrids. While it was rare for hybrids to get sick, when they did it was always when they were young and it always hit hard. There were many crossings due to this. Better to get them out before they could get compromised. 

“What are they mixed with?” Grian asked

“Blaze,”

“So we need to get them out, sooner rather than later,”. 

There were not many dangerous hybrids that were allowed into the Upper City. The process to get approval to move into Upper City is long, more so for more dangerous hybrids. Not necessarily because they were more dangerous, but because they needed to use more magic than less dangerous or obvious hybrids. Blaze hybrids needed to constantly regulate their above-normal temperatures, all while using only the smallest amounts of magic so as not to be detected. 

The fact that a blaze hybrid was ill, and a child was dangerous for their safety as well as the safety of the neighboring citizens. They needed to get them out safely, as quickly as possible. 

“Cover story in place?” 

“Parents have taken time off, and this is their only child so she’s been out of school since the sickness started. I’ve had them tell friends and neighbors that they are going to be quarantining in their home with a ‘family friend’ dropping food off immediately. I’ve gone ahead and secured the home with remote responses and cameras just in case anyone stops by they won't notice the empty house.” Lizzie responded, already prepared for the situation. 

Grian smiled at her preparedness. Since they had started this, Lizzie and Grian worked together to secure the hybrid's safety. It was one of the reasons Lizzie became a paramedic and left working at the cafe every night, much to Joel’s displeasure. 

“Am I going to be the ‘family friend’,” Joel asked raising his hand and Lizzie grinned at him. 

“Joy,” Jimmy stated flatly, dropping his hand back down. 

“Are they going to be staying at the cafe or are they crossing immediately?”

“Probably tonight. They’ve still got family on the other side, so they’re excited to meet up with them as soon as possible,” Lizzie responded, and Grian nodded. Usually, they gave a bit more time between the request and the actual crossing, but if they waited too long the chance of exposure grew far greater. 

“Alright, rather than wait for tomorrow night, we’ll go ahead and move them tonight. Lizzie write down the address and sent the notification that I’d be arriving shortly. Jimmy, you’ll be with me for the switch, I want to make sure the other side is clear as well since this is such short notice. Also, I’ll be sending you over for a little bit.”

“What! If this is about before-”

“It’s not. The advancements made have me nervous, and with Doc avoiding our trackers I’m getting worried. I need you to investigate, the hybrids won’t be able to find him if the Watchers are involved,” Grian explained. The plan had always been to send Jimmy over the wall tonight to investigate anyway, now he was just killing two birds with one stone. 

  Lizzie passed over a small slip of paper, and Grian glanced at it before using the smallest of energies to destroy it. 

“Alright, if all goes well I’ll text you when I’m back through,” Grian said turning towards the front door as Jimmy sighed before getting to his feet and walking over. 

“Wait, Grian what am I meant to be doing?” Joel asked as Grian opened the door and let Jimmy walk through first. Grians eye twitched as he stared at Joel, a plan forming.

“You, Joel, get the most dangerous job of all” Joel's head tilted, and once more Grian could practically see the hybrid through the thin layer of magic. He was so excited… It almost made Grian feel bad for what he was planning to do. 

Almost. 

He would not be getting his coffee after, that's for sure.

“You, get to explain to your wife the lovely, new lifeform you created in her absence this afternoon,”

Joel's eyes widened comically large as his gaze turned from Grian to Lizzie in horror. Lizzie froze turning to stare at her husband. Her gaze stayed trained on him, but they all knew she was now aware of the presence in the kitchen.

“...Joel”

“Now, Lizzie, I..”

“Joel. Please tell me in the seven hours I was gone you did not desecrate my kitchen,” Grian grinned widely before shutting the door and began humming to himself as he descended the stairs back into the cafe. All in an honest day's work. 

“I would never-”

“Joel. There is a moving sludge bag on my kitchen table.”

“Uhhh, that’s a … happy accident?” 

“You know he’s going to kill himself trying to get you back for that,” Jimmy grinned once Grian had joined him on the cafe floor. 

“It would not be the first time. None of Joel's pranks ever work out well for him,” Jimmy gave a sharp laugh in response, though Grian was not sure if he had much room to be laughing. It seemed the two of them would be cursed through whatever life they lived. 

“You ready to meet the family?” 

“Yeah. We should probably make sure that the coast is clear first through. Plus you’ll be staying for a few days on the other side to look into the new mobs. Hopefully, we’ll find Doc this time.” 

“... and if we can’t? Grian, we’ve been looking for him for over a hundred years. Doc has clearly made his choice. What are you going to do once we do find him?” Grian's heart stuttered at the thought. 

“It might not be as simple as that Jimmy. Right now, we just need to focus on finding him. I’ll ask Mumbo to check with Grumbot for any signs of him, but for now, we’re just going to play this by ear.”

Jimmy sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Grian, I understand that you have these memories of them- but you aren’t there. You’re here and these versions are willing to kill you if need be. You’re doing the same thing with Sc-”

“Jimmy. Don’t.”

The room fell silent as the air tensed. Jimmy did not often bring up Grians other memories- it wasn’t a particularly enjoyable thing to remember that he even had, but it had been increasing ever since Grian met Scar. Really, it was not fare to be upset with Jimmy. He didn’t remember them. 

Didn’t see the flashes of a better life. 

Where deaths were infinite.

And… where they weren’t. 

“Let’s just get this over with,”

“Whatever you say,”

Grabbing onto Jimmy, Grain remembered the address before using some energy to warp them there. Warping was usually an unpleasant feeling, but the more he was taking with him, the worse it felt. At least they had a different method to get across the wall. 

After an intense stretching and sinking sensation, Grian opened his eyes to see a modestly decorated living room. Releasing Jimmy, who looked mildly sick to his stomach, Grian stepped forward and expanded his energy to check the home before announcing himself. Most humans did not take kindly to someone teleporting into their living room. While it had been centuries since Grian messed up something as simple as a warp, he knew he could never be too careful. 

Only noticing three individuals, all hybrids, Grian determined it was safe to start. 

“Excuse me? My name is  Grian, Lizzie mentioned you needed a crossing?”

Immediately, the hybrids lurched to their feet in surprise before heading into the living room. Grian vaguely remembered seeing their faces a few years prior on a processing paper, so it was nice to know they had been doing well all of these years. 

“We weren’t sure when to expect you, so we were waiting by the door.” the Father said first holding his hand out in greeting. Immediately, red flags went off for both Grian and Jimmy

“My name is-”

“We were told we were escorting a blaze out beyond the barrier, so who are you?” Jimmy asked coldly, glaring at the unknown hybrid. The man was relatively short, his hair gave a greenish tint, almost missable if you weren’t looking for it. He certainly was not a Blaze hybrid though. Though his kind was rare, Grian recognized it. 

“No, no, that’s just my daughter and my wife. I’m a Glare hybrid,” The man quickly explained as a woman walked into the room very clearly a Blaze hybrid. Swaddled in her arms was a small child wrapped in a blanket.

“My name is Bdubs,” 

After another tense moment, Grian stepped in.

“Apologies, we weren’t informed that not everyone was a blaze hybrid,” Grian explained. There weren’t many hybrids that held relationships with other hybrids. Especially not those with hostile blood. Glares weren’t aggressive, although they could get moody in the dark. Suppose that was a benefit of marrying a Blaze hybrid though. 

“Yeah, we didn’t get a chance to explain to the woman who came by earlier,” 

“No, if it wasn’t such an emergency we would’ve had the time to go over your guy's file before processing the crossing. How is she holding up?” Grian asked moving closer, hoping they would not see him as a threat. Especially, after only just calming the situation. 

“The fever has yet to break, and she keeps changing how much heat she’s letting out. There's been a few close calls this past hour with her summoning fire, but I’ve been able to put them out before they caused issues,” Bdubs wife explained titling the bundle down to reveal more of the small girl's flushed face. 

“May I?”

“Please,”

Given permission, Grian held his hand out and placed the back of it on the girl's forehead. Letting his power flow a bit more, he checked the girl's condition before removing his hand. 

“The good news is, her condition isn’t anything to worry about. She probably needs a few days to get her more dangerous abilities back under control. Maybe a week or so to be well enough for us to see if you guys can cross back over,”

“Thank you!” 

“Now, we’ll be heading off. Jimmy here will be going with you for the crossing, and in a week he’ll meet back up with you to check in on her okay? We’ll know more by then on when we can plan the crossing,” 

“Now, is there anything else you may need to bring before I make the Portal ?” 

"Oh um, we have a family heirloom that I wanted to return to the other side of the wall, " Bdubs started, "It doesn't feel like it belongs on this side.”

Grian knew all too well what Bbuds felt. He too felt it almost every waking moment. 

Sometimes even more than that.

Even after all these years, that feeling of looking in, of never belonging never really went away. 

“Can I ask for your help with it?” Bdubs asked gesturing to the doorway, “It’s just through there, plus I have a question about this that I don’t want my daughter to worry about,” Bdubs whispered that last part eyes lingering on his daughter before turning back to Grian. Jimmy raised his eyebrow at this, throwing a look at Grian. Grian ignored the questioning look and nodded moving to follow Bdubs into the next room. 

Bdubs turned and walked out of the room, and Grian began to trail after. Jimmy grabbed his arm, panic evident on his face. Something was wrong with Jimmy- he’d been acting more and more strange the past few days but today more than ever. Once he got back from this mission Grian knew he was going to have to have a bit of a serious talk with him. 

Something to look forward to he supposed. 

“Jimmy you’ll be able to hear everything. Nothing is going to happen,” Grian assured moving his hand off of his arm. Besides, Glare hybrids, while rare, were not known to be violent. If Grian was ended by one he’d be alright with never having to face the endless ridicule of his friends. 

“Okay,” Jimmy relaxed if only slightly and turned his attention to talk to Bdubs wife, Grian presumed about the process they were about to go through. Turning back to the doorway, Grian left the living room and entered the hallway. 

“Up here!” Bdubs called from the top of the stairwell, and Grian hung a left to go up and meet him at the landing. Girna turned to face Bduds waiting for him to show where the heirloom was, only Bdubs didn’t move. Staring down at the ground, he shifted from side to side rubbing his arms. Not a great sign, if Grian was being honest.

“What is it?” Grian questioned, knowing the excuse of retrieving the heirloom was only that- an excuse. Grian wished he could say he was surprised, but there had not been much about people's behavior, specifically betrayal that could shock him anymore. 

“I don’t mean to question you or make you uncomfortable or anything but I wanted to know… you’re Cute Guy… aren’t you?” Grian froze and stared at him without responding and Bdubs rushed to explain, “I’m several centuries old by now. I still remember the stories we  passed around the village and…” 

“Don’t” 

Bdubs head shot up to finally meet Grians eyes. 

“We’re here to get you and your family out. For you, your wife, and your daughter's safety I’d be more careful with whom you ask those questions,” Grian finished coldly before turning to descend the stairs. A part of Grian regretted being so harsh. It wasn’t Bdubs’s fault Grian knew what they were capable of. If they thought Bdubs had any information, they would have no problem torturing it out of him. Bdubs had a life. A family. He was best left out of the matter entirely. 

Grian was beginning to wonder if everyone was doomed to be involved. If it was the curse of being kind to him in other lives. 

Dragged into a fight that was Grians fault- with no chance of surviving it. 

Maybe that was why Grian was so determined to keep Scar as he was. 

A Dreamer and Human. 

“Well, if you do know anything about Cute Guy,” Bdubs called down quietly knowing Grian could still hear him,” Let her know that the hybrids are thankful for what they’re doing. People’s minds are hard to change, here, but it is progress!”

Grian froze on the stairs for a moment, remembering. 

“Everyone thinks their progress is for the greater good. I have found that to rarely be true.” Grian left it at that and descended the stairs stopping outside the living room door to collect himself before entering. 

“Ready?”

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

UPDATES

Hello, one and all!

Yes, I know it has been a lot longer than originally promised. I had originally planned to leave this chapter alone at a certain point, but due to how I’ve planned the chapters to go I decided not to. I did end up changing the original ending for this chapter, and I think this ending fits better ultimately. 

Also, Jimmy and Bdubs are OC in this, apologies for that. There is a reason, but all shall be revealed later. Also, Joel was already planned for this chapter back in like November and I laughed so hard when he was announced to be joining Hermicraft.

In other news, the other reason this chapter was pushed back as far as it was is due to some news I received a day or so after posting the preview. One of the girls I met while hospitalized passed away in March. 

She had sarcoma. 

Her mother called to tell me the news, and due to the distance, I was unable to attend her funeral in person. 

She was not even 20 years old. 

It really solidified that when I go, my mom is going to have that same job.

I do not want to come on here and post depressing things all of the time, but I did want to ask that if you are in any financial position please donate to the Sarcoma Foundation in her memory. 

In less sad news, the other chapters have been coming along, and I’m extremely excited for the rest of the story!

Stay safe, and hopefully, you’ll hear from me before August!

[sakuraswordly]

Tsofph season 1: Episode Hikaru Shidou

Kinomoto: Hikaru-chan! Where are you?!

Kamui: Hikaru!!

Somewhere else

Chester: Hikaru! Answer if you're there!

Syaoran: How is it?

Chester: It seems like she isn't here.

Syaoran: Last time we landed in different places in that other world. Let's search over there now.

While Walking

Syaoran: The ruins?

Chester: I remember last night. In the desert, I saw the ruins of the castle. Those ruins were always covered in a sand storm and sometimes the entire country shook. Almost as if.........

Syaoran: ......................!!

*Flashback*

*End of Flashback*

Syaoran: The ruins were trying to fly away from that desert and were thrusting around.

Chester: So that's mean......

Syaoran: That ruin.......is actually in the land of Clow.

Chester: But how.....? This didn't connect to my necklace at all......

Syaoran: But I was so sure.......you never ever appear in the Kingdom of Clow at all.....the only one who appeared from another world is "Syaoran".

Chester: Syaoran?

Syaoran: ........................

.

.

Chester: Maybe you're a very very important person......a family.....

.

After the defeat of Seishirou and rescue Chester

Chester: I remember what happened to my sister and my purpose for continuing to live.......I am not more than a puppet that Fei Wang Reed create me!!

Syaoran: .....................

Chester: I am only a body clone, however, and was created purposefully without a heart so that I could gather feathers without any emotional restrictions. Even I was reborn.....I am nothing more than a puppet too.....the reason I can live because to take revenge for my little Ami......I don't really care about protecting the world or whatever. If I can just kill Dhaos, I'll be satisfied........I never really believed I deserved to be with you. Every day I thought about ending it all… just acting like a stranger from that day on.

Syaoran: You can start over, Chester-san!

Chester: I can't Syaoran........I just can't.............I was afraid to lose you... Just like back then...

.

.

Chester-san is crying. He's crying and doesn't know what to do, which just makes him cry even harder. He was so lost.......he didn't know what to do now.... all I can do was to be there for him.

Someone I want to protect. Someone important to me. Someone I never thought I would lose again.

Syaoran.........my father.......

Syaoran knows nothing about his origin or his true purpose and aimlessly wanders the streets where he's eventually found by the archaeologist, Fujitaka. At that time Syaoran had no name, no memories of his past, and no sight in his right eye because of the seal. Fujitaka readily adopts him as a son and names him 'Syaoran'. The two travel to many countries for excavation work which leads Syaoran to meet Princess Sakura of Clow Country. Even though Syaoran is blunt and emotionless from his mysterious past, Sakura takes an immediate interest in him. Her kind heart and open personality draws Syaoran to her and she very quickly becomes the thing Syaoran cherishes most in life.

Chester: If you hurt someone, then even if I can heal my wounds, the sin of hurting them doesn't go away, doesn't it? No matter how hard I try, I can't erase the mistakes I've made.

Syaoran: I will stay with you until the very end, Syaoran.

Chester: ...............................

Syaoran: Not until the end......." always "......

Chester: But I will cause so much pain to you.

Syaoran: I also have my burden. You and my mother already share this burden enough....let me avoid helping you, please. And don't forget.....we need to save Sakura from her curse as well and I didn't on my own like in the past.

Chester: Me too. I am not alone. But didn't it feel comfortable to be around them?

Syaoran: Well yeah.....

Chester: Then that's good enough. Syaoran...if you still continue on this path.....then, that makes things simple. Please don't let me say you're quit. Hang in tight until the end, even if you have to clench your teeth! You're here because you want to be, and that alone is good enough!

Syaoran: Chester-san..............

Chester: Protect Sakura......the person that you love the most. Don't forget what Lelouch told you. If you do, I can continue to live in this world for you.

[lantsovsupremacist]

tiberias (cal) calore vii: illicit affairs

i’m only on the 3rd book so a) pls don’t spoil you’ll break my heart and b) my perception of the characters has only been developed to this point so if you come for me do it with the correct context lmao!!!

you knew what it was.

leaning your forehead against the cool metal post of your bed frame, a shaky exhale escaped from your lips. you wished just like that lost breath, you too could leave behind your body and with it, mind. a few minutes was all you needed, really; some semblance of relief.

even with your door shut tight with a deadbolt, the danger contaminating the palace lingered outside of it. you were not foolish enough to deny the cracks it could slip through. you would give any adversary a worthy fight, though. you could not afford not to, especially now.

for the first time in your life, you had truly encountered a problem that you could not use your abilities to maneuver out of. as much as your lungs screamed and your legs ached to run, you could not. being a swift, your first instinct was always to run. your speed always gave you the advantage in pursuit.

a familiar knock at the door broke you from your trance of pity. you stood up, sniffling as you ran the back of your hand across your nose and mouth. the action of clearing your throat sounded more like a whimper, but you managed as you gathered your skirts and headed for the door. you pushed down the nausea and wrung your hands to settle yourself.

your fingers shook on the deadlock before you pried the door open. the amount of weight on the wood, the length of the echo, and the momentary pause before the second, lighter knock gave away the identity of the person on the other side. you were in his arms before you could take another breath.

despite offering you the comfort you had craved all morning, his touch triggered the sobs caged in your chest. perhaps, it was because your heart was only safe in his hands. but, without the key to let them out, they messily tore through and paved their own path.

a year ago, your greatest worry would be the shame brought to your family on account of conceiving a child out of wedlock, let alone to the crowned prince. now, it seemed the impending war took precedence. you could have laughed; a red threatened your livelihood. a girl, really.

you were always careful, and it did not even happen very often. both you and the prince were very busy people, after all. send offs and reunions.

“we can fix this,” cal murmured into your hair.

“no, you don’t get it,” you broke out with a defiant shake of your head, “there’s nothing to fix.”

he pulled back, stroking your hair and pushing it behind your ears. your golden strategist was at a loss. your heart fell further into the pit of your stomach. you chewed on the inside of your lip, desperate to look anywhere but his eyes. yet, in the space of the same moment, you never wanted your gaze to leave his.

“i won’t leave you,” his warm hands ran up your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, “and i won’t let my father have a say in any of it.”

“it’s not the king i am frightened of,” you admitted with a sour taste in your mouth.

cal nodded with a grimace, “then i’ll be sure she is controlled until the end of the month.”

but who could control the queen who could twist minds? you chewed on the thought to avoid choking on it, forcing it down in distaste. both cal and yourself needed time neither of you had the privilege to claim.

cal communicated the importance of waiting until the traditional queenstrial to propose publicly. while the larger part of you agreed with this position, a small piece of your heart reserved for crippling doubt and senseless paranoia wondered if he was stalling for a different reason. if you could at any time expect desertion, it would be now but true to his word, cal had done no such thing—a loyal soldier until the end.

“and if they don’t chose me?” the secret fear you had harbored far before you had even become aware of your current condition felt a traitor to expose to the boy who had given you everything, kept every promise he could.

he studied your face carefully to ensure he held your full attention (though he was foolish to ever think otherwise), “make them, my dear.”

despite the event’s purpose of selecting a bride for the princes themselves, all of the noble houses knew the eldest had little choice in the matter. while your relationship with cal was not overt due to the inherently illicit nature of the affair, servants were known to talk. even in your deepest frustrations, you could not necessarily blame them.

his confidence in you was endearing but what other choice did you truly have?

you pulled away from his arms and lingering stare, wrapping your arms around your middle. pacing the length of the room, you suppressed a bitter laugh, “and then what? when a baby is born after less than eight months? and that’s to say we can persuade your father to rush a royal marriage.”

“let them talk,” his fingers twitched at his sides and you caught the scent of smoke, “nobody will be able to do anything.”

he thought he could protect from anything. sure, there would be little opportunity for any political action after a marriage was solidified but rumors would swirl. born into the pressures of eyes always watching you, they did not cut deep, but a queen needed a reputation demanding of respect. you did not want to be cruel but you decided that if need be, you could.

you wanted so terribly not to cry but willing it away only drew your focus to it more. you did not think the act made you weak but you would rather avoid the complete exhaustion it often caused. you were already so tired. but, some things were inevitable.

cal caught on before you did, “baby,” his voice was croaky, maybe laced his emotion of his own, “please don’t cry.”

you giggled at the irony. it was watery and your voice was nearly gone but it was there. confusion spread across cal’s features. you studied his face as he began to understand. a slow, crooked smile spread across his freckles and indicated the transition.

“suppose i could have chosen better words.”

“mhm.”

you had not noticed he was slowly rocking you in his arms. calm rushed into your senses. cal radiated your favorite kind of warmth. he monitored his body temperature around you, never too hot but always comfortable. it reminded you of home. he was your home. he smelled of pine and dying embers.

now nearing nineteen, you met the prince at fourteen. your elder sister married sooner than your parents expected, hastening your introduction into political meetings as a representative of the swift house of nornus.

who could blame a young and inexperienced teenage girl for falling in with a powerful, older boy who dared throw her an extra glance. what began as a benefit to palace life at fifteen soon turned into a vice. it was easy to tell yourself that you could stop any time you desired but you were addicted to the way he touched you, the way he tasted, the way he spoke your name.

for a while, you were foolish enough to believe he maybe even loved you. when you turned sixteen, you understood you were a pastime for the prince. so when at seventeen he told you he loved you, you did not believe him. he was gone for service quite a bit and your training schedule stole away any time for secret meetings when he was home. you began to purposefully avoid him but the withdrawal from the high that was cal left you dizzy.

when he did not make a move to find you, you tried even harder to move on. you had both made a mess of your hearts, left bleeding and shattered on the floors of the palace. you watched him escape the palace more often, always finding another place to be. one night, however, you followed him. you told yourself it was curiosity that caused you to slip out of your covers and into a warm coat, a coat you would not have needed if you left with him.

you caught up easily with your inhuman perception and speed and yet, he still saw you coming. he always did. that night, you wandered through a village and blended in. that night, you could be normal. he helped you clean up the mess between the two of you and things were different but the same again. they were better. you still took the long way to his room and pulled him into hidden corridors but the longing stares across meetings reignited.

you cleared your throat, “when you returned from delphie.” you tone held the pace of a simple comment, not the answer to the unspoken question pressing down on both of your minds.

cal turned his lips into his mouth and nodded, taking a deep breath, “i remember.”

it was a good memory, a good time. slow and gentle and loving. rane had worn you ragged sparring evangeline from sun up to sun down. you enjoyed the younger classes attending for the exposition but your muscles felt like weights lodged into your body and your breath had not yet fully returned after running circles around evangeline.

usually when one of you returned from an excursion outside of the palace, you wasted little time in attaching to every piece of each other. but, you were both exhausted—exhausted but greedy for the attention of the other. it had been a month ago, nearly to the day.

you and cal never discussed the prospect of children. even if one of you did not favor the idea, there was no choice in the matter. cal, as a future king, needed heirs, and if you wanted to be queen, you would have to bear them. but, you did want them and secretly, you knew cal did, too. it was more than a superficial requirement.

cal always looked at you, found you in a crowd, so it was hard to study him in secret. when he was with children, however, all attention transferred to those at his feet. it was then you saw him fully relax, the weight of his crown falling off his back. he loved them. you loved him more for it.

“and i don’t regret it,” he continued, dipping his head to place it gently on your shoulder. he kissed you neck once, twice, and then dropped his head back down.

[the-last-kenobi]

AHHH YOU’RE TAKING REQUESTS 🚨🚨🚨 Okay okay uhhhhh I can’t decide between 13 or 18 so you choose! With hurt Obi-Wan and caretaker Anakin, please!

I AM INDEED TAKING PROMPTS

And because you’re amazing and I love all your writing I have decided to write both 13 and 18 into one story, we’ll see how this goes yikes.

From this various prompts list

_

Anakin moved quickly up the hallway, trying to keep his footsteps as soft as possible.

It was very late — or very early, depending on one’s point of view. The low-lights were on, and Anakin felt like he was intruding somehow, in this residential wing that was almost entirely deserted due to the war.

The damned war.

Anakin clenched his fists. I can’t afford to be angry right now, he told himself. I need to talk to Obi-Wan and I can’t start out by yelling at him.

It was tempting to lash out at Obi-Wan.

They hadn’t had a proper conversation in months, not since the Hardeen operation and everything that it had entailed, and then Obi-Wan up and vanished on some discreet mission, stopping only to ask Anakin for a ship to borrow.

Anakin had discovered Obi-Wan’s return only when Acquisitions had notified him that his ship would be late in returning to his care due to extensive damage. Flight logs indicated that his Master had returned a full five days before. Five days without so much as a comm message letting his lineage know he was back home. Nothing.

For a few hours Anakin had foundered, stewing in disbelief and anger, but as night crept in he had begun to feel something different.

Concern.

And something that might have been the Force, prompting him, pushing him.

And so here he was, silently keying in the manual code to Obi-Wan’s quarters — technically still his own, although he spent most nights at Padmé’s or in a private room.

The door swished open.

It was utterly dark.

That wasn’t unusual; when he had the chance, Obi-Wan preferred to sleep in complete darkness. He said it felt more natural. No distractions tugging at his brain.

What was unusual was the state of disarray.

There was a kettle sitting on the counter, so near the edge it made Anakin nervous. He walked over and moved it a few inches, his eyebrows flying up when he felt the weight. When he lifted the lid, it was obvious that this was days-old, and untouched to boot.

Was Obi-Wan sick? Was he in the Halls? Surely someone would have notified him. Surely.

Anakin looked around and took note of the robe discarded against the wall, the boots left in the middle of the walkway. There was an empty mug on the reading table, and a holo-still sitting beside it, as if Obi-Wan had stared at it for awhile and then set it down — the only item that looked carefully treated.

On closer inspection, it was a holo of Obi-Wan, far younger than Anakin had ever seen him, next to Qui-Gon and a dark-skinned woman he had never seen before.

Qui-Gon was in the center, facing a little to the left, his eyes on the woman, a full smile on his face. Anakin stared. The Jedi he remembered had been understated, his smiles always a little sad. This Qui-Gon looked about to throw his head back in laughter. The woman was looking down at Obi-Wan, who stood on Qui-Gon’s other side. She was nearly as tall as Qui-Gon, her hair was braided into several intricate sections; she was smirking conspiratorially at the young Padawan.

And Obi-Wan was smiling shyly back. Although his Master wasn’t looking at him, he had draped one arm around Obi-Wan, and the boy was leaning into the casual touch.

They all looked ridiculously young and ridiculously happy, and Anakin didn’t even know who one of them was. He had never heard of this woman, or why she wasn’t around any more, because she must not be, and he had certainly never heard stories of Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship. Not unless it was relevant to whatever they had been doing, or whatever lesson Obi-Wan had been trying to teach.

His Master was so damned secretive.

Angry again, Anakin replaced the holo-still and glanced around the room, thinking to check the Halls of Healing next.

Then he spotted something that made him instinctively recoil.

A Mandalorian helmet, sitting on the chair, painted in stark black and red and rendered in Death Watch’s style.

Heart hammering, Anakin picked it up and examined it, finding gouges and dents in the beskar alloy, signs of years of wear and tear.

Why was it here? Why was there a Death Watch helmet here, in their rooms? It didn’t make any sense!

His first wild thought was that the extremist group had somehow broken in, taken Obi-Wan, and left this behind. Then he mentally shook himself. That was beyond absurd.

So what then?

Anakin tucked the helmet under his arm and cautiously approached his former Master’s room, pressing the door aside slowly.

Obi-Wan was right there.

Sitting on his bed, dressed only in stained and scorched trousers and an undershirt, his head in his hands. His fingers were buried so deeply in his hair it looked as if he were trying to tear his skull open.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin burst out without intending to, the last few hours of anger, confusion, and momentary panic getting the better of him.

Except the older man didn’t react at all.

“...Hey. Obi-Wan.”

After a pause, the man on the bed shifted slightly, and then sat up. His fingers hastily brushed his hair back into order as he did, and his face, though white as a sheet, was a perfectly blank mask.

Anakin didn’t buy a bit of it.

“Obi-Wan... tell me what’s going on.”

The man who was Obi-Wan but wasn’t acting at all like him gave a slight shrug. “There’s a lot going on, Anakin, we’re at war. What is it you needed at one in the morning?”

Well, at least he knows what time it is.

“You’ve been back for days. I haven’t seen you.”

“Ah. Your ship?”

“I’m not worried about the ship. I’m worried about you. I don’t even know where you were!” Anakin said, his voice rising again. He cut himself off quickly.

Obi-Wan frowned slightly. “I was... on leave.”

“On leave?” Obi-Wan didn’t go on leave. Obi-Wan never stopped working, hadn’t since Geonosis. “You said it was a mission.”

The older Jedi passed a hand over his mouth before speaking again. “I... it wasn’t an endorsed mission. I undertook it myself.”

A non-endorsed mission... “You mean you went off on your own?” Anakin demanded, shocked. “Tell me you weren’t chasing Maul!”

Obi-Wan went white to the lips. He opened his mouth to speak, and then he spotted the helmet under Anakin’s arm and choked on his words, falling dead silent.

Anakin considered for a moment. Then he studied the helmet again. Taking it in.

Death Watch.

Mandalore.

A personal, self-assigned mission.

Satine.

Red and black.

Maul.

“...Oh, Force, Obi-Wan.” Anakin said numbly. Thinking of Padmé. Thinking of Obi-Wan and the confession he’d made to Satine, one that Anakin had not been meant to overhear. “I’m so sorry.”

Obi-Wan said nothing.

He just stared at Anakin for a few moments before nodding his head in acknowledgement.

Anakin set the helmet down on the desk and edged closer to the bed, his eyes on his friend, wary as if he were approaching a traumatized animal. “Can I sit?”

A nod.

Anakin sat down.

“...Is it all right if I hug you?”

A very long pause. A small nod.

Anakin placed his palm on Obi-Wan’s back, then slowly moved so his arm was around the man’s shoulders. When Obi-Wan didn’t pull away, Anakin drew closer, tilting his head down to rest on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Like he had when he was younger, and his Master was the best in the Temple, in the whole galaxy, and there was no war, just missions and too much meditation and time enough to just sit like this when they were tired and overwrought.

Obi-Wan shuddered in his hold. Not repulsed, but something else. Like he was cold.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked.

His friend shook his head, but trembled harder, his breathing fluctuating.

“Obi-Wan.”

“Feel... nauseous,” the redhead mumbled, and then he doubled over, toppling head over heels towards the floor. Anakin cried out, lunged and caught him just in time, hauling his former Master into his arms and holding him, his heart pounding from the sudden shock.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept? Or eaten?” he demanded, thinking of the tea kettle.

“Mm... not since the night I got back. For eating. I don’t know about sleeping. I honestly... can’t remember...” Obi-Wan murmured. He was shivering now, his face pale and twisted with discomfort. He looked too weak to move, and he really must have been, because all he managed when Anakin cradled him closer and stood up with him in his arms was a low groan.

“We’re going to the Halls,” Anakin informed him curtly, striding out of the room with Obi-Wan in his arms, still trembling.

Obi-Wan made a noise of protest, but Anakin shook his head. “No. You need to see Healers.” He watched his friend’s eyes mist over vaguely, with grief or with illness it was hard to say. “I’ll stay with you the whole time,” Anakin vowed, meaning every word. “It’ll be fine. As soon as they’re ready to release you we’ll come right back here and you can sleep in your own bed.”

Obi-Wan mumbled something that seemed to include, ‘not a child.’

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m not your Padawan anymore. We still boss each other around. Just how it is,” Anakin said.

Obi-Wan huffed a laugh, tilting his head against Anakin’s shoulder. He took a deep breath. Then another. And then he was asleep.

“Damn,” Anakin whispered aloud. “Damn, damn, damn, you’re really not in good shape. You shouldn’t be this easy to carry, for one thing. Dammit, Obi-Wan. Why do you have to be so secretive?”

Is he secretive?

Or have I just never asked, and never listened?

Anakin honestly didn’t know, and that bothered him.

“Sleep, Master,” he murmured, adjusting his arms so that Obi-Wan was more comfortable. “We’ll talk when you’re ready. I promise. I’ve got you. We’re going to make it through this whole damn war, together.”

_

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Beach Rules

A/N: Paladins at the beach? Sure! Platonic everyone. This is Keith and Shiro centric. And there’s loads of tickling and simping, yay :D

„Is that…“

„No, it can’t be!!“

„Oh, but, but… guys, it’s…“

„A beach!“ Shiro stepped out of the castle, joining Pidge, Lance and Hunk on the surface of this vacation worthy planet with a disbelieving expression.

Allura followed, taking her helmet off and actually giving one of her rare honest smiles. „Yes, a beach. This is the planet of Basoria. 10 000 years ago, this planet has already been one of my favorite places to be. It seems incredible that the Galra haven’t taken over it. But since there are no intelligent beings on here, they probably didn’t see the point. It’s a save place. Coran and I wanted to offer you this. A day off at the beach. With everything you’ve already done, paladins, I am happy if I can give you something back.“

The three younger paladins shrieked happily, shouting their thanks as they took off running for the shore, shoes flying and jackets landing in the sand. Shiro turned his head to look at Allura with a smile. „This is amazing, Allura. I think you couldn’t have made them happier.“

Allura tilted her head and put a hand on Shiro’s left arm. „I was hoping you would enjoy this as well, Shiro. You have been working harder than anyone of us. You deserve a day’s rest.“

Shiro opened his mouth in surprise, a little overwhelmed by so much attention and a little lost for words. Fortunately Keith chose excatly this moment to step out between them, a grumpy expression on his face. „A beach?“ He asked with a raised eyebrow, obviously sceptical about something that involved such a big amount of fun.

Allura narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance, having hoped for a rather different reaction. „Yes, Keith. A beach. A place for relaxation and happiness. I’m glad to see that it disgusts you so much.“

Allura went to take off her armor inside the castle, mumbling intelligibly under her breath. Keith merely sniffed and shrugged as the princess moved away, crossing his arms over his chest and looking outside with a wary expression. Three cheerful paladins were splashing around in turquoise water. They were still dressed in t-shirts and pants, but didn’t seem to care a bit about the additional soaked weight. Keith had never seen them this outgoingly happy.

He felt a weight on his shoulder and saw that Shiro had put his hand on it, an encouraging smile on his face. „Go on, Keith. Don’t worry so much. I bet it’s fun out there. Give it a try.“

Keith tilted his head slightly and looked away, a little crease appearing between his eyebrows. „Hmmm. I don’t know, Shiro.“

The warm dark eyes of the older paladin changed, giving room for worry. This guy managed to catch up to everything. „What is it?“

Keith huffed and shook his head slightly, fond of Shiro being so perceptive, yet at the same time wishing he weren’t. „It’s just… I don’t know. I- I’ve never… well, I’ve never been to a beach before. My father and I never went on vacations, you know.“

Keith shuffled around slightly, trying to act as indifferent as he could, while he was actually dying from insecurity inside. He sent a tentative side glance in Shiro’s direction and saw the realization in his expression. Keith smiled and shielded his eyes against the sun.

„I think it’ll come naturally to you, Keith.“ Shiro said softly, making Keith look at him again in surprise. „All we have to do is go out there and… do the next best thing.“

Keith blinked at him, pretty unsure about this much spontaneousness. „And what would that be?“

Shiro put his finger on his lips thoughtfully, making Keith start to consider that maybe Shiro had just as little clue what to do at a beach as he had. His features softened a little at that impression. Where Shiro knew pretty much everything about him, there was little Keith knew about Shiro in connection to his past. Shiro kept most things locked away behind so many doors that walking through all of them could take years. Keith had barely managed to walk through the half of them.

He sighed deeply and slid out of his jacket, leaving it in the castle. „Let’s start by making ourselves more… beach ready.“ Keith made an awkward motion towards his t-shirt and then bent over to take off his shoes and roll up the legs of his pants.

Shiro smiled at that and copied Keith’s actions, stripping to his sleeveless muscle shirt and rolling his pants up as well. For a second he was insecure about the bulgy skin where his right shoulder merged into the metal arm. But then a sudden feeling took over him and made him forget about any insecurities. Was that… giddiness he felt in his stomach?

There suddenly was so much energy inside of him that he had to get rid off. He looked at Keith staggering around on one leg as he tried to keep the material of his pants rolled up on the other leg. And a grin spread out on his face.

He suddenly knew exactly what he had to do.

„Keith..“

Keith looked up in time to manage a very surprised yell, before a very strong arm wrapped around his middle and lifted him off the floor. „SHIRO WHAT ARE YOU-“

„I know what we have to do!“

Keith clawed his fingers into Shiro’s foreram, holding on to him tensely as the pilot started running with Keith dangling from his side, shaking him quite thoroughly. Despite that Keith almost sighed in relief as fresh air ruffled his hair and blew under his shirt, giving him goosebumps and drying his sweat. It felt like flying through the desert with Shiro all over again. The memory of their races untied a knot in Keith’s chest and he suddenly had to let out a laugh as Shiro readjusted his grip on him, lifting him even higher than he’d been before.

„Don’t drop me!!!“

Shiro’s smirk was audible in his words as he raised his voice as well. „Oh, I will drop you in a bit!“

Keith tensed up again and looked to where Shiro was headed. Pidge, Hunk and Lance in the water had noticed their approach by now, curious happy smiles on their faces as they got closer at a dizzying speed. The realization hit Keith and he started struggling, almost causing Shiro to drop him himself.

„NO YOU WILL NOT! DON’T YOU DARE! SHIRO!“

But Shiro wasn’t bothered by Keith’s defiance in the slightest. His soft laughter mixed with Keith’s gasps and yelps and put a warm feeling in his shaking stomach.

Keith’s struggles grew stronger the closer they got to the water, forcing Shiro to swing Keith’s in front of his chest to be able to hold him there with both his arms.

Keith’s fists drummed against Shiro’s forearms, as the pilot reached the shore and took a few steps into the water. How Shiro managed to stay strong enough to hold him like that with all his laughter was a freaking mystery to the paladin of the red lion. „Enough with the violence,“ Shiro chuckled, „Time to cool your head!“

Keith’s knees were pulled up to his chest and he was eagerly trying to keep himself in that pulled up position by wrapping his hands around Shiro’s head behind him and holding on. „I DON’T THINK SO!!“

„Oh, but you will let go,“ Shiro growled, a playful tone to his voice that made Keith’s stomach drop.

„YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!!“

„Ah, Keith, you really bring this upon yourself,“ Shiro chuckled and kept his metal arm wrapped around Keith’s middle, the other suddenly dangerously unoccupied and close to his side and ribs and this was when it clicked, but too late.

„SHIRO WAIT-“ Keith shouted out in panic, trying to pull himself up higher to get away, but it was to no use. Shiro’s fingers were already squeezing his side and making their way up and hell on earth, it tickled so much, Keith had never thought anything could tickle this much.

Any plans for holding back his giggles were diminished immediately, as he broke out into hysterical squeals and deep uncontrollable laughter, twitching around like a fish as Shiro’s fingers were crawling up his side, over his ribs and right in the center of his exposed armpit. He really meant to keep his hands behind Shiro’s head, pulling at his hair to keep from being dropped. But forget that, he couldn’t take this without fighting back. It felt like Shiro was tickling him with twenty fingers at least where he was only using five and it wasn’t fair and it led to Keith’s unavoidable fate.

„SHHIHIIHRO NOHOOO PLEEEHEHEHEASE!!“

„I won’t stop until you let go!!“

„BUT THEN YOU’LL DROOHOHOP MEE!!“

„Beach rules, Keith. You are obligated to have fun!“

One last arch in Shiro’s arm, then Keith couldn’t stand it anymore and he tore his arms down, trying to push Shiro’s assaulting hand as far away from his ticklish torso as possible, when it was already time for a dive in the waves of Basoria.

Keith shrieked, when Shiro’s arms suddenly stopped holding him, honest to God shrieked - as if he’d needed any more embarrassment in front of the others. The cold water caught him quite gently though. There were no burns at the impact of the water, there was no water shooting up his nose. There was just a nice feeling of floating around and having his hair fly around his head.

He welcomed the feeling happily. But only for a few seconds. Then his wish for revenge grew too strong and he speedily made his way back up to the surface. He managed to find a stand on the sandy underground, the water up to his chest where it had been up to Shiro’s waist.

Shiro. With narrowed eyes and wet hair clinging to his forehead he saw Shiro quickly making his way deeper into the water, looking over his shoulder, laughing breathlessly.

„OH YEAH YOU BETTER RUN!! JUST YOU WAIT TIL I GET YOU BACK!“

Shiro almost slipped from laughter at Keith’s bubbly attempts oto swim after him, completely out of breath, but fueled with the desire to give him a taste of his own medicine.

In the meantime Pidge was busy climbing on top of Hunk’s shoulders in her soaked shirt, where she held on to Hunk’s hair with one hand, pointing at Shiro with the other and letting out a war cry that would have scared away Galrans. „FUGITIVE ON THE RUN! GO GET HIM! AID OUR TORTURED FRIEND!!!“

Keith almost sunk under the surface from his surprised laughter. He hadn’t expected the others to come to help him. They liked to watch Shiro tickle him into madness during sparring matches rather comfortably. But this. Maybe this was also part of the beach rules. Everyone against the strongest one. It seemed like a good rule to Keith.

Shiro on the other hand was barely able to bring much more distance between himself and the others as panicked laughter started to slow him down. Lance was gaining on him, as Hunk grabbed Pidge from his shoulders and used all his strength to throw her in Shiro’s direction, getting her closer to him as well.

Shiro thought it clever apparently to change tactics and stopped swimming in the one direction to make his way in the other one now.

Keith had to chuckle as he heard Shiro’s breathless gasps for air get closer. Alright, if this was a fun time at the beach he was sold. Now they only had to catch him.

„YOU GUYS, THIS ISN’T FAIR!!“ Shiro shouted, smiling widely as Pidge and Lance were getting awfully close.

„BEACH RULES!!“ Keith yelled as he too was getting closer to Shiro who was trying to make his way to the shore to be able to run away. He’d be way too fast for the other paladins if he managed to reach it. They couldn’t let him get away.

„Oh no, you will NOT!!“ Lance exclaimed passionately as Shiro was stumbling to his feet in the ankle high water. The plue paladin took a large dive and actually managed to pull Shiro down with a splash. The two of them rolled over in the warm part of the water, Shiro breathless from laughter already while Lance was yelling almost as loud as Pidge had before.

„You did it, Lance!“ Keith cheered as he too got to his feet in the low water, throwing himself on top of the other two. Shiro groaned with laughter at the additional weight and tried to push the two of them off of him.

„Now, just wait a second, just wait…“ Another weight took away Shiro’s breath as Hunk dropped down on top of Keith, slowly but successfully building a sandwich.

„We have him! Do we have him?“ Hunk spluttered and looked at his two friends underneath himself. Keith held up a thumb, despite the lack of air.

„We’ve got him! You guys are the best!!“

Pidge arrived with a wide smile on her face and was a bit reluctant to putting herself on top of the three boys as well. She didn’t have to anyway. Instead she dropped down next to Shiro’s face and grinned at him evilly.

„Ha, you didn’t see that coming, did you?“

Shiro glared at her, still out of breath, but he just couldn’t keep it up and a soft, playful expression was back on his face again in no time. „I guess Voltron’s bond must be really strong already. Just don’t lose your head in the process…“

All four of them groaned inexplicably loud at this bad pun and Pidge felt no sympathy for him in the slightest as she told the other three to give him hell just for that. Even though he was pretty doomed in his current position. He couldn’t move out from underneath the three boys and all of them put their hands to good use some place on his tall upper body. Hunk was pinching his sides, as Keith worked his hands under his arms and Lance immediately used his position for good access to Shiro’s ribs.

Pidge was blessed with the picture of Shiro throwing his head back in ticklish agony, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth opened in the brightest smile, as beautiful laughter was shooting out of him.

He couldn’t fight off six hands with just two and Keith enjoyed strongly making him laugh this hard, especially with the aid of his friends. He could tell that Shiro was very fine with them having their fun like this and it warmed Keith’s heart that Shiro was so selfless and soft in every situation. He looked at Shiro throwing his head from side to side, shaking with incessant giggles and trying to arch his back against the overwhelming sensations and he just knew that Shiro would never stop doing whatever it took to make him happy and have fun despite the times they were living in.

He knew that there was no „Voltron losing their head“. Shiro’s love was the starting point of all bonding among the paladins. He was the heart of the group.

Keith certainly knew that. And the others would at the very latest agree now that Shiro’s determination had managed to connect all paladins in having fun together.

[angel-riki]

Dazed & Dreaming {Ch. 2}

summary: Y/N's life was always quite normal, some may even consider it boring. However, Y/N enjoyed her simple life and the little pleasures it brought. Unfortunately, that all changed the day she found out her best friend's biggest secret. Her discovery leads her down a rabbit hole of a new and confusing world she never knew existed. She must now navigate this new life filled with love, fear, and the supernatural. What awaits her down this path?

pairing: enhypen x reader (vampire au)

warnings: light swearing

word count: 1,569

chapters: [Ch.1] [Ch.3] [Ch.4]

~~~~~~~~~~

You bit into your second piece of toast of the morning as your phone buzzed in your pocket. After rummaging around for a few seconds, you retrieved your phone. You smiled at the notification, it was from Jake.

Jake: "We're here :)"

You quickly typed out and sent your reply as you hurried to finish the rest of your breakfast,

Y/N: "Ok, omw!"

One huge bite of toast and a painful swallow later, you were gathering your things and scurrying out the front door. You half-jogged down your driveway until you reached the car, greeting the boys like usual,

"Good morning," you said cheerfully as you climbed into the back seat.

Heeseung had been giving you rides every morning now for a couple of weeks, it had become your daily routine. And even though you insisted that you could walk, the two boys wouldn't take no for an answer. You eventually accepted their generosity, however you still felt a bit guilty. Fortunately, this new routine had allowed you and Heeseung to grow much closer over the past weeks. Now, you considered him a friend instead of a mere acquaintance. This was a relief as you had gotten much more comfortable around him. Although, Heeseung was just good at making everybody feel comfortable. He was just so charming and kind. This made it a lot easier for you to manage your nerves, but a lot harder for you to keep your crush on him from growing.

*****

The bell rang, signaling that it was time for lunch. Relief washed over all of the students' faces as they were freed from a horrendously boring lecture. You shared that relief as you packed up your stuff and strolled out of the classroom. You made a quick pit stop at your locker before heading down to the cafeteria.

After grabbing your food, you walked into the bustling dining space. Gosh it's so crowded, where are they? You scanned the tables until you noticed someone waving at you rather enthusiastically. Shocker, it was Jake. Heeseung was beside him, smiling and waving at you as well. You waved back before heading over to where they were sat. You set your food on the table and pulled out the chair in front of you. As you sat down, you noticed that Heeseung didn't have any food. How strange, you thought.

"Heeseung, where's your lunch?" You asked, knowing there had not been enough time for him to have already finished eating.

"Oh, I'm just not hungry today is all," he said awkwardly.

"Are you sure? You can have some of mine if you'd like," You offered.

"That's okay, thank you though," he smiled.

Something was odd about his demeanor after you brought it up, but you couldn't put your finger on it. You decided to stop interrogating him as you turned to Jake,

"How was that math test you had earlier?" You asked.

"Good! Aaand I may or may not have written down that one formula I can never remember on the inside of my hand..." he replied.

"Smart move," you giggled.

"I know," he said, grinning proudly.

You rolled your eyes as you began eating your lunch. Your school lunches were mediocre at best, but it could be worse. Another day, another stale pb&j. As you ate, the two boys started rambling about their after school plans. Apparently, there were a few other boys that they hung out with quite often. You had never met them, although Jake had mentioned them here and there. Listening to their conversation, you suddenly felt a slight sadness come over you. It wasn't that you were jealous, you were just afraid that one day they would get sick of you and leave you behind. They had other friends, but you didn't. Jake and Heeseung were all you had. You shook your head as you tried to expel the negative thoughts. Why am I getting upset over something that hasn't even happened? They would never do that anyway, you reassured yourself.

Before you knew it, lunch was over and you were running late for your next class. You were speed walking down the hall when you turned a corner and ran directly into something. Or some one, rather. You looked up to see who you had just harshly collided with. You recognized him from your english class, yet you had never spoken to him before. You realized you didn't even know his name.

"Ah, I'm really sorry!" You apologized, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment.

Seeing him up close like this made you wonder how you hadn't paid more attention to him. You had never noticed how handsome he was. He had a very sharp jawline and thick black hair that dangled just above his eyes. You also noticed there was a beauty mark on the side of his nose. Wow, his nose is like, perfect.

"It's alright. It's not every day that I run into a cute girl," he replied coolly.

You thought you were flustered before? Well now you were REALLY flustered. You opened your mouth to respond but before you could speak, he cut you off,

"Your lip is bleeding," he said, his face suddenly full of concern. His skin seemed to be growing paler.

"Oh, I didn't notice," you said, reaching up to wipe your mouth. You must have slightly busted your lip when you ran into him. You looked down and noticed a little trail of blood on the back of your hand. Thankfully, it was only a small amount so you weren't too worried. You looked back up at the boy and you noticed he was staring at your mouth rather intensely, almost as if he was in a trance.

"Uh...well I better get to class. Sorry, again." You apologized one last time before hurrying off down the hall.

Weird.

*****

Your class seemed to go by faster than usual today. Maybe it was because you ended up being almost 10 minutes late after your little incident in the hallway. Or maybe, it was because you couldn't stop thinking about that strange boy. Either way, you were relieved that class was over. However, that relief quickly left you once you realized what your next class was; English. You really didn't want to see that boy again after your previous meeting. You were still quite embarrassed and his reaction just made you even more uncomfortable. You sighed as you reluctantly accepted the inevitable.

Once you were seated at your usual spot, you pulled out your notebook and a pencil. You scanned over yesterday's notes as your teacher began the lesson. Everything was fine for a bit, until you began feeling eyes on you. Maybe you were just paranoid, but you could've sworn you saw that boy from earlier staring at you every so often. You attempted to pay attention to the lesson, but you couldn't. He was making you incredibly on edge. You put your head down in frustration. God, can't this day just end?

*****

You tapped your temple with the end of your pencil as you tried to make sense of your chemistry textbook. Although you were reading the words on the page, you weren't absorbing or internalizing any of it. You sighed and defeatedly closed your textbook as you decided to call it a night. You had been at the library studying for hours, you hadn't even noticed how dark it had gotten outside. You packed up your belongings and threw on your coat and scarf before heading out of the library. A shiver passed through your body as you entered the cold evening air. You began walking at a faster pace than usual, trying to get back to some warmth as soon as possible.

After a couple of minutes of walking, you could feel your cheeks stinging and you could see your breath in front of you. I need to get home faster, I'm freezing. You thought while looking around for a shortcut. You found a path down the edge of the forest that seemed to be the quickest route home. You sighed as you hurried down the deserted trail. As you continued on your way, you started to get an eerie feeling. Perhaps it was just the setting you were in, but you were considerably creeped out. You never liked walking alone at night, I mean, who does? Suddenly, as if on cue, you heard something behind you. You whipped your head around as you scanned the area for any potential danger. You didn't see anything but you could've sworn you heard another set of footsteps following close behind you. Maybe you were just being paranoid again. You turned back around, sufficiently scared at this point as you anxiously jogged the rest of the way. You sighed with relief as you made it to your house safely. You opened the front door and locked it behind you, not daring to look back out into the night. After shaking off your uneasiness, you headed upstairs and changed into your fuzziest pajamas before crawling into your warm bed. You quickly melted into the soft blankets as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ooooh, spooky ending! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter which was full of foreshadowing ;). I know it's taking a while to get all the boys introduced but I promise it'll happen soon! Thank you for reading! I’m also uploading this series on wattpad if you’d like to support it over there!

~Elle <3

[guardianofrivendell]

LOTR/Hobbit Characters and Your First Kiss

A/N: This was a preference series I honestly expected someone to request by now, and it sat in my drafts for a long time. I finally had inspiration to write it so here you go. I’ve done some kisses in previous preferences, but nothing beats the very first kiss. Enjoy!

A/N 2: I know that these preferences aren’t really short enough to be called preferences, both Legolas and Kili are 700+ words...  🙈 Next time I’ll just write “And then you kissed.”

Warnings: kisses (duh!), some a little steamier than the other (couldn’t help myself sorry not sorry) and an f-bomb with Kili (which I know is out of character but work with me here)

LEGOLAS  

Longing glances, accidental hand brushing, pining after someone who was seemingly out of reach... It wasn’t unknown to you, unfortunately. You and Legolas had been dancing around each other for what seemed like centuries. Which was impossible since you were human, but it certainly felt that long to you. Feelings were involved from the very first moment you laid eyes on him, and you tried to make it known in a subtle, and later in a not so subtle way. But Legolas was oblivious or just plain stupid - you hadn’t decided yet - and you stayed in the friendzone.  Some moments you were sure he returned your feelings, and then something happened (or didn’t happen) that made you not so sure anymore. Like the lack of kisses to name one.

You were not familiar with the Elvish way of courting. The only person you could ask was Legolas and yeah... that wasn’t going to happen. So you didn’t want to take any initiative, afraid you would cross a line you didn’t know existed.

And then the whole quest to destroy the one ring happened. You had joined for the adventure and to see more of Middle Earth, and yes, also because Legolas was coming too. No one could blame you for trying to spend more time with your crush... Who knows, maybe he had to save you and realizes he almost lost you, confessing his feelings because of it. Failsafe plan right? Yeah well... that didn’t happen. You were in constant danger, that went like expected, but it seemed like you didn’t need saving since you were a seasoned warrior. And to put yourself in mortal peril on purpose, that just wasn’t like you. Sure, Legolas held your hand while climbing rocks, or let you rest your head on his shoulder when you were tired. But that’s what every member of the fellowship would do. They didn’t, but they would if you’d ask.

So when you, Aragorn, Gimli and Master Friendzone finally reached Edoras, you had given up all hope.  Which is why Éomer caught your eye. You had met him before when you were looking for Merry and Pippin and you couldn’t help but find the handsome, bulky man on a horse attractive. He was the exact opposite of everything Legolas was. Just what you needed. At the victory celebration of the battle of Helm’s Deep, Éomer had approached you. You were all dressed up - thank Éowyn for that - and he complimented your appearance, asking for a dance.  While you danced, you failed to notice Legolas was keeping an eye on you from across the room. He watched how you twirled around, pure joy written all over your face, and he couldn’t help but smile. He thought you looked absolutely stunning in a dress. He still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about you, but the feeling in his stomach didn’t lie. His smile dropped immediately when he saw how low Éomer’s hand was on your back. He felt a jolt of pain in his hand, and when he looked at it, he noticed he had crushed the empty metal cup he had been holding.

You felt Éomer’s hand on your lower back but you didn’t say anything. It was probably just the ale in his system. As soon as he would do anything inappropriate, you would end the dance but for now you were going to enjoy the attention.  When he twirled you again, you bumped into Legolas.  “A word, please?” he said through gritted teeth. He didn’t wait for your answer, dragging you off the dancefloor with more force than you ever expected him to use on you. He didn’t stop until you reached a deserted hallway, you could barely hear the music anymore.  “Legolas, what is going on with- mppfh!” You were silenced when he crashed his lips on yours, pushing you against the wall. It didn’t take long before you kissed him back. It was a rough kiss, all teeth and tongue and you hadn’t expect this from him at all. This wasn’t the sweet and gentle Legolas you knew. But hey, you weren’t complaining!  When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting.  “What just happened?” you asked. You knew what happened of course, and you still couldn’t believe it, but you wanted to know what drove him to do this. “My eyes finally opened,” he spoke, licking his lips. “I am sorry it took me so long.” So it was jealousy that had finally done the trick.  “Well, I could think of a way or two to make it up to me...” you smirked, pulling him further down the hallway...

KILI

You worked at the pub Fili and Kili frequently visited. It was one of the few places they could leave all their royal duties (including the title) behind them and just be themselves. Sometimes they brought some of the other Dwarves of the company, but usually it was just the two of them.

Not that it made it easier for you when they were alone. Fili was the older brother and more mature one, but when he had his share of ale, all inhibitions went out the door. The same went for Kili, although he didn’t need ten mugs of ale to loosen up. He was very flirtatious by nature.  So when you heard him ask you for a kiss when you brought them their next round, you didn’t even look up. He always did this, and you always ignored it.

You didn’t know why he asked you for a kiss every single time. The first time he asked, he was so drunk you thought you misheard him. He pouted at your rejection and you promised him he would get one if he was sober. You knew he wouldn’t remember the next day. One week later, the brothers returned and Kili repeated his question when you served them their drinks. Since he was sober that time, you just laughed and shook your head. After that, it kind of became a habit. He would ask for a kiss, and you would reject him every single time.

“This calls for a kiss, don’t you think?” “I think I need you to pay for these drinks.” “Let me pay you with a kiss this time.” “Kisses don’t buy me food.” “Don’t I deserve at least one kiss?” “I’ll let you know as soon as you deserve one.”

He never gave up, and you never gave in. You hated to admit it, but it became harder and harder for you to reject Kili. Not that you were running out of comebacks, they came naturally to you. But you noticed him staring at you when he thought you weren’t looking and you started to question if this really was all just a joke to him, or if this was his really weird - but effective - way of flirting. Only one way to find out, right?

The next time they entered the pub, you were one big ball of nerves. You poured two mugs of ale and brought it to their table. Kili’s face lit up when he saw you and it almost made you throw your plan out of the window. You placed the mugs in front of them, and waited for Kili to ask for his kiss. He didn’t disappoint. “So remind me again, was it one kiss per mug or one kiss per order?” “One kiss will do,” you said. 

Before your answer really got through to him, you grabbed his collar and planted your lips on his for a short, but firm kiss. You let go of him and quickly turned around to go back to the bar so you could go hide in the back room for the rest of your shift. What were you even thinking? Kili had other plans though. 

When he finally recovered, he jumped up and grabbed your wrist, spinning you around so you bumped into his chest. “Fucking finally,” he growled, and kissed you a second time. This kiss was anything but short. Kili took his time to explore and who were you to deny him? He brushed your cheek with the back of his hand, and weaved his fingers in your hair. You had to stand on your toes because he was a lot taller than you, keeping your hands on his chest for support.

A cough from Fili made you break the kiss. “Mahal,” Kili whispered, eyes wide when he pulled back. “So does this mean you accept kisses as a means of payment now?” Fili asked, getting to his feet and pouting his lips to give you a kiss. Kili pushed him back in his seat, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Don’t even think about it!”

ÉOWYN

You watched Éowyn train with her sword. She was a skilled sword-fighter, but since she was the shield maiden, they wouldn’t allow her to fight alongside men in battle. That didn’t stop her from training and improving her skills, on the contrary... It only made her train harder.

You were absolutely mesmerized by her. Her lean, but toned figure, how she handled the sword with such grace and ferocity at the same time... You were completely lost. But there was no way she would be interested in someone like you, a mere servant. And then there was also that tiny little thing about her being your best friend...

Éowyn was fierce, and often went in discussion with anyone who dared to doubt her. But when she was around you, she was soft and bubbly. You were one of the only people who had the privilege to see her smile.

One day she asked you to help with her training. You weren’t as skilled as her, so you were a bit reluctant at first. But who were you to turn down a chance to be this close to her? You noticed she was nervous. Éowyn was never nervous. Ever. What was going on in her head? The training started and you tried to make it enough of a challenge for her. Surprisingly enough you were winning, and with a last swing of your sword, you knocked her sword out of her hands. She cheered. “That calls for a victory kiss!” Wait... what?

She crossed the distance between you and silently asked for your permission. When you nodded and tried to ignore your loud heartbeat, she placed a soft kiss on your lips. “I’ve waited so long for you to do this,” you whispered. “All you had to do was ask,” she winked.

A/N: Don’t forget to reblog and comment or comment in your tags, I do read them!

[capseycartwright]

“All I wanted was for you to be happy.”

:)

i had to jump on the eddie getting shot spec train for this one, no regrets 

more readable on ao3 here

send me a prompt from this list 

Eddie is pretty sure he’s dead. Which, in the grand scheme of how he’d hoped to spend his Tuesday, wasn’t all that great - he’d had his fingers crossed for surviving his shift, going home to his son, and probably watching that ridiculous Trolls film both Christopher and Buck were obsessed with - but instead he’s dead.

He has to be dead, because that is the only explanation for the fact that Shannon, his extremely dead wife, was standing in front of him.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Shannon said, her tone accusatory. She was wearing a beautiful yellow dress - one Eddie had bought her actually, at an over-priced boutique in Miami on their first ever holiday together. 

“I hadn’t exactly planned on dying today, Shannon!” Eddie tried to defend himself.

“You’re not dead,” Shannon reassured, looking as though she was aching to touch him. “You might be soon, though.”

Eddie swallowed back his own tears. He - he’d thought about how he might die. Of course he had - during long, lonely nights on deployment, Eddie had wondered if that was how he was going to go - in the sweltering heat of the desert, gun on his hip and the weight of what he’d done in the name of supporting his family pinning him to the sand. After he’d been discharged, and he got back to Texas, he’d been in survival mode - he’d never thought beyond getting through each and every day, one at a time. 

But - recently, he’d thought about it. Imagined growing old, and dying at eighty, or ninety years old - old enough that he got to see a career in the LAFD through, and he got to see Christopher grow up, and find his feet, and maybe get married, and have kids, if he decides he wants that. Eddie imagined how it might feel to die at the end of a long, happy life - a life well lived, not a life defined by the things he had done to try and survive.

“You’re supposed to die when you’re old and grey, Eddie,” Shannon sighed.

“So were you,” Eddie countered, wiping roughly at his tears. 

Shannon’s smile was sad. “I think that ship has sailed, Eddie.”

“You left me,” Eddie couldn’t help his anger. “You died, and you left me alone, Shannon.”

“If I’d had the choice, I wouldn’t have,” Shannon shook her head. “But Eddie - you’re not alone. Surely you can see that. So many people love you, and need you - Christopher, more than anyone. Eddie - all I wanted was for you to be happy, but we couldn’t do that for each other.” 

Eddie wanted to scream, and yell, and curse whatever God had put him in this situation - teetering on the edge of life, talking to his dead wife. He finally had the opportunity to tell her everything he wanted to - to make sure she knew how hurt and devastated he had been by her dying, but now he could, the words weren’t coming. 

“It hurts, Shannon,” Eddie whimpered, almost pitifully. “Everyday of my life. It hurts, and I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Eddie,” Shannon said, in that soft, familiar voice she used to use on Christopher. “It hurts because it mattered - it matters. But it doesn’t have to be so hard, you know - you have people to share the burden with. I wish you’d open your eyes to that.”

“This isn’t real,” Eddie shook his head, squeezing his shut tightly.

“It’s as real as you need it to be,” Shannon said. “Eddie - be happy. Please. And - really happy, okay? You don’t have to just survive, or live a life you think will make your parents happy, or Christopher happy. If you’re happy - really happy, happy for yourself - Christopher will see it and he’ll love you for it even more.”

“I don’t want to die yet, Shannon,” Eddie admitted, looking at his wife, tears pouring down his face. He wasn’t ready to go - not yet. Not like this - bleeding out in the middle of the street. He wanted to die an old man, with Christopher at his side.

With Buck at his side.

Shannon fixed him with a steely glare. “Then fight, Eddie - harder than you ever have before. You need to fight, Eddie.”

“Eddie, Eddie, come on. Eddie, open - open your eyes, please, talk to me.”

“I’m so tired Shannon,” Eddie admitted. 

“Fight, Eddie,” Shannon repeated. “For Christopher - for me. For yourself. For Buck.”

“EDDIE!”

The pain was unbearable as Eddie forced his eyes open, Shannon and wherever he had been gone - he was back, at the scene of the shooting, concrete digging into his back as Buck desperately tried to stem the bleeding. 

Eddie hadn’t needed the reminder of how it felt to get shot. He - he would never forget the searing pain of the first time he’d taken a bullet, back in Afghanistan. Somehow - somehow it was worse, this time, and Eddie figured it was because he didn’t have any bulletproof gear. He’d taken a bullet to the cheap nylon material of his firefighter uniform - no vest, no thick military issue uniform. It felt like his skin was burning, fiery pain coursing through every inch of his body. 

“B-Buck,” Eddie could taste blood, as he tried to speak - that wasn’t good. Why wasn’t there help coming? He - he must have been bleeding out for a few minutes, now, but no one was coming, no one was helping him except Buck.

Buck -

Eddie squinted at his best friend, spotting the blooming blood stain on his side. “Shooter. Still active?” he managed to choke out.

Buck nodded, pushing his hands further into the wound, ignoring Eddie’s desperate whimper of pain. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s still an active shooter scene.”

Eddie looked at Buck. “You - moved?” he tried, a coughing fit making him groan in pain. He knew he was crying - he could feel the tears rolling down the sides of his cheeks, dripping onto the rough gravel underneath his head. 

Buck nodded again.

“Idiot,” Eddie mumbled.

“Yeah, maybe,” Buck tried to joke. “But there was no way I was going to let you bleed out, Eddie - so you need to do your bit and stay with me until help gets here. Okay? Because I’ve got your back.”

“You’re - hurt,” Eddie gasped, yelping as Buck applied more pressure to the wound.

“I know, it hurts, I’m sorry,” Buck seemed genuinely sympathetic, but unrelenting in the pressure he was putting on Eddie’s side. “And mine is just a flesh wound, don’t worry.”

“Buck,” Eddie knew he was slurring his words now, his vision hazy as he tried to grip onto Buck’s wrist weakly. “Don’t wanna die.” 

“You’re not going to,” Buck’s voice was desperate, and Eddie didn’t need to be fully lucid to realise his best friend was crying too, tears pouring down his cheeks as he looked around wildly, trying to gauge how far out help was. He must have fallen, Eddie realised - his face was scraped up. “You’re going to be just fine, Eddie - okay? You’re going to be fine. And when - and when we’re both patched up, I’m going to take you to that beach bar in Malibu I was telling you about. The one with the cocktails I know you’ll pretend to hate - but you’ll love, really.”

Eddie couldn’t help himself. “Like - a date?” he managed, breathing getting harder by the minute. He must have lost a lot of blood by now - Buck’s shirt was covered in it, and Eddie felt dizzy, and light-headed. 

Buck gave a wet laugh. “Yeah, if you want,” he said. “Break up with your girlfriend first, and we’ll talk.”

Eddie felt his eyes closing. “M’okay.” 

“Eddie, Eddie, keep your eyes open, okay? Keep your eyes open for me - I need you to stay awake a little longer,” Buck begged, and pleaded, but his voice was already starting to sound muffled, and far away.

“You need to fight, Eddie.”

Eddie really didn’t want to die, this time -

He had too much left to do, still. He hadn’t realised that until the bullet had ripped through his shoulder - he wanted to take Buck on a date, and he wanted to travel, with Christopher, and he thought it might be quite nice to get a dog, one day, and Chimney was convincing him to get his paramedic certification, and there was lots of things he’d never done.

Eddie had even thought about learning to cook - taking a class, maybe. 

He wasn’t ready to go, yet. 

He vaguely registered the sound of sirens and yelling but he was too out of it to know if it was real, or not - but Shannon felt real, her yellow dress stark against the white walls of wherever he was (hospital, maybe? Or heaven, he wasn’t sure.)

“You did good, Eddie,” she said, voice soft. “Be happy. Okay?”

Eddie felt a hand squeeze his - a hand he knew well enough to know it belonged to Buck, the only hands he knew that could dwarf his own, warm and familiar and grounding, holding tightly to Eddie - as though he was about to float away.

No - he wouldn’t do that.

Eddie had a few things to do first. “I’m okay,” he managed, his voice sounding like gravel, harsh and scratchy against his dry throat. “Buck. Ev. ‘M fine.” 

“I know,” Buck’s voice sounded wet with tears. “Sleep, Eddie. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Sleep. That sounded nice.

Eddie feebly tried to squeeze Buck’s hand in response. “Okay.”

[mochegato]

Pixie Spy

Things are once again fucking crazy right now and I thought maybe a bit of an escape might be good?

Chapter 9

Chapter 1     Chapter 8

“Are you sure this is safe?” Jason looked up and down the street, staring in wonder as the world around them had been put back together.  If he hadn’t been here himself, he would have never believed they had just experienced a series of devastating tornadoes.  Buildings that had collapsed were put back together.  Cars that had flown through walls were back in their parking spots. Walls and sidewalks that had been painted in blood were now back to showing only their regular dirt.

“Yes,” Manon said in an exasperated tone, as though it was something a child… well, a child even younger than her, should know. “The ladybugs mean the fight is over and everything is set back to normal.”

“Yeah, okay smartass.  I’m new to this.  Watch the attitude,” he grunted at her.  

“What does ‘smartass’ mean?” August asked, looking up at him curiously.

Jason clamped his eyes shut and groaned.  Marinette was going to kill him if she found out he taught one of the kids she watched to curse.  “It means nothing.  It’s an American word you shouldn’t use.  In fact, never use that word.  You don’t want to be like an American, right?” he rushed out.  Desperate to change the subject he turned back to Manon.  “Just like that, everything is fixed?”

“Just like that.” She nodded at him.

He shook his head and looked at the kids for a few seconds.  “So… any idea how to contact your parents?”

“I know my mom’s number and you can take August to Marinette’s place.  She’ll know how to get ahold of his parents.  Duh.” She rolled her eyes at him as she pulled out her phone and called her mom.  Jason huffed at her but nodded.  Right. The brat had a point.

“Manon!”  He heard yelled from down the street.  He whipped his head toward the sound.  That was incredibly fast for her mom to find her.  When he found the source he smiled.  Marinette was racing toward them.  

“Marinette!” Manon exclaimed in a relieved voice and ran toward her.  As soon as Marinette reached her, she grabbed her into a hug.  Manon hugged Marinette back just as tightly, starting to shake.

Marinette looked over and motioned for August to come over too.  “And August! Are you guys okay?”  She gathered him up in a tight hug, too.  “What happened to you guys?  Did you find somewhere safe to stay?”

August latched around her neck and started crying. “It was terrible!  I heard Daddy…” He started crying harder unable to finish the sentence.  Marinette nuzzled into his head and bounced him as much as she could while still holding onto Manon.  She whispered hushing noises into his hair.

“That must have been terrible, August.  I’m so sorry you had to experience that.  We will give him a call and let him know where you are so he can come and give you a hug himself.”  August nodded as he sniffled, keeping his head firmly nestled in her neck.

Jason frowned in concern for August and Manon. They had both been a lot less emotional a few minutes ago.  Jason had thought August was fine but as soon as Marinette appeared, it was like all his walls broke down.  Even Manon was acting differently now.  She was a lot more sullen and quiet than she had been seconds ago.  As soon as she was safe in Marinette’s arms, her bravado was forgotten and she started shaking from the experience.

“I’m sorry, Marinette.” August whispered to her. “I’ll be stronger.  I don’t want to become another akuma.”  His tone was so broken, Jason’s chest squeezed in response.

Marinette immediately stopped bouncing him and made him look her in the eyes.  “Nobody is strong all the time, August.  You have a right to be upset.  You have a right to be angry.  You have a right to be scared.  You do exactly whatever it is you have to do to survive and keep yourself safe and okay. However you deal with it is okay. If you need to cry, you cry.  If you need to yell, you yell.  There is no wrong way to respond.”

“But what if I get akumatized again?”  He looked at her with watery eyes.

“Then Ladybug will save you.  And she would never, never be disappointed in you, August.  None of us would ever be.”  Marinette reassured him, holding him as tightly as she dared.

“Right,” Manon whispered as she shifted so she was hugging him too.

Jason felt his chest tighten again.  He could not fathom the pain the kids have had to go through, everyone in Paris had to go through.  He couldn’t begin to comprehend how much guilt Marinette and everyone on her team must carry with them each day, knowing the people of Paris were experiencing this.  He didn’t care what he had to do, he was going to help Marinette no matter what he had to do.  If her team decided he couldn’t be in Paris, he would set up a place right outside Paris and help from there.  He wasn’t going to let them deal with this alone.

He walked into the position Manon had just left and to add his support.  He gently placed his arm around Manon and August and pulled Marinette into his chest. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “You did good out there… and with them.  You’re amazing.”

She leaned into his chest and said “Not good enough” so quietly, Jason almost missed it.  She relaxed into his chest and fought off the tears in her eyes as well. He rested his chin on her head and pulled her even closer.  “Yes, it was,” he reassured her quietly.

After a few minutes like that, she pulled her head away just enough to look up at him, eyes glistening with gratitude.  “Thank you for watching out for them.  Thank you for protecting them.”  Jason gave her a soft smile.  He reached up and stroked her cheek with his thumb.  Marinette closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

August looked between the two of them a few times with an interested look.  “Are you two in love?  Are you going to get married?”

Marinette’s eyes shot open and she straightened up, leaning away from Jason.  Jason grinned at him, but Marinette’s face turned bright red.  “You’re too young to ask questions like that.” Marinette said a few octaves higher than was natural for her.

Manon grinned mischievously at her, “But I’m not.”

Jason laughed loudly at her and ruffled her hair. “I like you, kid.”  Manon gave him a proud smile.

“No.  No ganging up on me.”  She gave Manon a mock glare.  Manon stuck her tongue out at Marinette.  “And, I think it’s time to call your Dad, August.  You’ve already called your mom, haven’t you, Manon?”  Manon gave her a nod.  “Good.  Excuse me just a minute.”  She handed August to Jason.  August instantly leaned his head against Jason’s shoulder, as though Marinette’s approval made Jason trustworthy, and in a way, Jason supposed he was right.  If she trusted him, he must be, right?

“And maybe when you’re done you can tell me why he gets treats and I don’t!”  Manon gave Marinette a look that exactly mirrored her mom’s expression when she caught an interviewee in a lie.  The look she gave that meant she knew she had caught them.

Marinette opened her mouth to say something but snapped it shut quickly when she couldn’t think of what to say.  She turned to Jason and stuck an accusatory finger at him. “What did you do?” She demanded.

He grinned wider at her and threw his arm around Manon’s shoulders.  “She deserved to know the truth.  It’s going to take 10 cookies…” Manon coughed lightly.  “…15?” He looked down at Manon.  She nodded at him.  “15 cookies next time to make it up to her.”

She glared at him for a few seconds.  His grin never wavered the entire time. Finally, she threw her hands up. “Fine.  Compensation cookies it is.”  She walked away to call August’s Dad.  “But they’re going to be ones he…” she narrowed her eyes at Jason, “… helps me make.”

Jason opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by Marinette turning away to speak to M. Provance.  He settled for grinning lovingly at her back and squeezing Manon’s shoulders in triumph with his one armed hug.

After a few moments Marinette returned to take August back in her arms.  Jason handed him back gently.  August curled into Marinette’s neck with a sad sigh.  “Your Dad is just a few blocks away.  He will be here in just a few minutes okay?” She asked August quietly.

August nodded, keeping his head nestled in her neck and his eyes closed.  “And what are the plans for you, Manon?”

She shrugged at Marinette, “I’ll be fine. I’m just going to walk home.”

Marinette nodded at her with an understanding look. “Okay, as soon as August’s Dad gets here we’ll walk you home.”

Manon rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated breath.  “I’m fine. I walk home alone all the time. It’s not that far.  I’m not a baby,” she snapped at Marinette.

“That’s because you keep ditching the people your Mom sends to pick you up.  And, you know that doesn’t do anything to change my mind, right?” Marinette gave her a deadpan look.

“Okay fine, whatever.” She crossed her arms and looked away with a significantly softened expression.

“You know what?  No more time with Chloe.  I have to deal with this,” Marinette motioned vaguely over all of Manon, “enough.  I don’t want to deal with it from you too.”

Manon tried to stifle the grin that snuck out. “Like you can stop it.”

Marinette watched her, eyes narrowed and lips puckered to hide her smile.  “One less cookie for each flippant response.”

Manon gasped and looked back at her with wide eyes. “You wouldn’t!”  Marinette smirked at her.  Manon turned to Jason with a huff, “You, get your woman she’s acting crazy.”

Jason laughed raucously for the first time in a really, really long time, enjoying the playful but supportive and loving banter. He held up his hands in desertion. “You’re on your own.  I wish she was my woman, but I know better than to try to interfere even if she was.”

Manon huffed again as M. Provance came running up to them.  “August!” he exclaimed reaching out for him.  “August, I was so worried.  How are you doing?  Did you stay safe?”

“Yeah, Daddy.  Marinette’s boyfriend found me and Manon and I stayed with him.” August said quietly.

“Oh thank God,” M. Provance sighed gratefully. After looking over August to make sure he was okay he turned to Marinette and Jason.  “Boyfriend?” he raised an eyebrow at her with an amused smile.

Marinette opened her mouth resignedly to respond but Jason cut in first.  “Good Day,” he answered with a charming smile.  “Jason Todd.  Pleasure.”

“Pleasure to meet you.  I didn’t even know you were dating, Marinette.” M. Provance looked to Marinette with a kind smile.

“Neither did I,” Marinette muttered under her breath, giving Jason a playfully annoyed look.

Jason eyed her face and deciding she wasn’t actually upset with him, pulled her closer to his side and grinned wider. “Oh, it’s quite new.”

“Well, I wish you both good luck.” M. Provance nodded to them.  “But August and I should be getting home.  Your mother will be worried sick until she can hold you,” he said to August, holding him closer.

“Oh, since you’re only a few blocks away from my apartment, can you walk me home too?” Manon asked innocently.

“Of course, dear,” M. Provance smiled at her putting a hand behind her shoulder to bring her into their group.  “Thank you again, M. Todd and Marinette.  Have a good night.”

“Yeah, have a really fun date,” Manon smirked at them.

They watched the trio retreat before starting to head back to Le Grand Paris Hotel.  As soon as they were out of hearing range Jason leaned over to her, still pulled close against his side.  “The morve might be mouthy, but she has some good ideas.”

Marinette looked at him in utter confusion.  “What the hell is a morve?”

Jason furrowed his brow.  “A morve,” he reiterated like that would help her. “You know, an annoying kid. Morve.”

Marinette let out a quiet chuckle.  “A brat?”

“Ahh… yes.  Sorry.”  He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“You should apologize, how dare you call Manon a brat?  I’m the only one that gets to call her that.  I’ve earned that right after six years of fucking torture at her hands.  You don’t get to just waltz in and start claiming the term.” She bumped her awkwardly hip into his thigh.  Damn tall people, she grumbled to herself.

“No, I meant…” Jason started apologetically.

She smiled kindly at him.  “I know what you meant.  Your French is really good.  One or two unknown words doesn’t change that.  I’m not expecting you to start reading Hugo in the native language.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun actually.” Jason’s eyes opened wide in excitement at the thought.  He instinctually started looking to see if he could find Notre Dame, despite being nowhere near it.  “Reading Hunchback in the native language on the steps of Notre Dame?  That… I might have to do that.  That sounds amazing.”

Marinette raised her eyebrows at him, processing the new information.  He was fluent enough to read Hugo in French.  He liked reading Hugo.  He considered reading Hugo exciting.  There was so much there to investigate and focus on.  Was it bad that she already decided on the name of their first son? Yeah, that might be a bit early for that.  She needed to think of something before her mouth started running again and told him. Because that’s what he did to her, made her admit things she knew better than to say out loud.  She decided instead to focus on the more prevalent and safer question.  “How fluent are you?”

“I’m a bit rusty, but I should get close to fluent after a few days.  It was one of the things that got drilled into me during training.”

“Batman drills French into the Robins?” Marinette asked incredulously.  

“No, not Batman…” Jason trailed off, not wanting to discuss his time with the League of Assassins yet.  He didn’t want to give her another reason not to trust him so if she asked, he wouldn’t lie.  But that didn’t mean he wanted to discuss it either.  It wasn’t his favorite part of his history.  Not that there were many good parts to choose from.  But when trying to convince someone you wanted to help and you weren’t planning on fucking them over, keeping the League out of the discussion was generally the best course of action.

Marinette eyed him curiously.  She could sense his apprehension talking about his past.  She didn’t know much about it, but she knew it was dark, likely not something he enjoyed discussing.  “So you’re a literature nerd or just a Hugo nerd?” She teased him instead, looking over at him playfully as she walked.

Jason chuckled at her, silently thanking her for changing the subject for him.  “Both. Hugo, Verne, Austen, Shakespeare. I love all of them.”  

Marinette nodded.  Hugo, Jules, and Jeanne, both for Jane Austen and Jeanne d’Arc, the former Ladybug.  Two boys’ names and one girl’s name taken care of.  She could almost picture the kids running around…  “Cover story!” She cried out instead.  “Um…” she covered her mouth embarrassed, chastising herself for not only indulging in thinking about their future kids but crying out so loudly and unexpectedly.  “I meant,” she continued at a quieter level.  “What is your cover story going to be while you’re here, if you stay?”

He looked at her questioningly.  He might not know her well, but that was odd.  “Well,” he started cautiously, still watching her carefully.  “My family’s cover story was vacation, so I guess I’ll continue with that line.  Or I can say I’m investigating opening a branch of WE here if you need me to get into any stuffy business offices.  The Wayne name opens a lot of doors.”

Marinette nodded.  They hadn’t needed that before, but who knows where a future investigation might lead them.  But that reminded her of another issue they needed to discuss. “Speaking of names, how close do you think your family is to figuring out mine?”

Jason considered the question.  “Close I think.  Constantine gave them more clues when you two were talking than they realize yet.  Plus, they’ve already started running your picture against National ID’s.  I can try to keep them out once they do, but I don’t know how successful I’ll be.  Dick will try to listen, but will ultimately do what Bruce tells him to do, like the little fuck boy he is.  Tim will fight against Bruce if we give him a reason to, but it’ll have to be a fucking hell of an argument for him to side with me over Bruce and Dick.”

Marinette scoffed at him.  “Yeah well, good luck with that search. The magic should have kept the cameras from being able to get identifiable, comparable picture. Even after it was dropped the glamour should have still worked.” She looked over at him with a devilish grin.  “They think they’re comparing a picture.  They’re not.” She looked up and noticed where they were.  “And here we are, Le Gran Paris Hotel.”

Jason smiled down at her, stepping close again, not pulling her into another embrace, but making his interest clear.  “You could come up and check out the room.” He offered with a devilish grin.  “It has a great view.”

She grinned knowingly at him. “All the penthouse rooms are almost identical, except for Chloe’s. I can't tell you the number of times..." she almost said ‘I accidentally swung into one of these rooms instead of the clubhouse by mistake.’  But he didn't know about the clubhouse and Marinette wasn't sure yet if he ever would "... I've been in one," she finished instead. Not a lie. She'd been in them a lot. Not what she meant to say, but not a lie.

“Oh yeah?” Jason asked waggling his eyebrows.  “Do tell.”

“Calm down, Romeo.  Nothing as fun as you’re hoping.  One of my best friends’ dad owns the hotel.  She has a penthouse room and we stay in them sometimes.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jason responded innocently.  “I assumed it was something like that.  You know, school trips, spa days, girl’s nights…”

Marinette scoffed.  “No you didn’t.”  She moved closer to him so their fronts were lightly touching and she had to lean her head almost all the way back in order to look in his eyes.  Her devilish smile returning.  “Plus, if it’s a good view you’re looking for, maybe I’ll take you to the top of the Eifel Tower sometime.”

“I don’t know, Pixie.” He wound his arms around her waist.  “I don’t think anything can beat this one.”

Marinette blushed deeply and buried her head in his chest.  “Okay, Casanova,” she finally said after a few minutes enjoying Jason’s arms around her and his nose buried in her hair.  “I need to get ready to meet with my team to talk about you.  I’ll let you know what they say.”

“Will you argue for me to stay?” He asked her quietly, keeping his arms lightly wrapped around her.  If this was going to be one of the last times he was going to get to hold her for a while, he wanted to make it last.

She nodded at him.  “I won’t force them to agree, but I’ll make a case for you.”

“Okay,” he whispered pulling her closer for a few moments before letting her go, possibly for the last time.

<><><><><> 

Ladybug landed gently on the clubhouse balcony, the only sound announcing her presence the recoiling of her yoyo string.  She took a deep breath and steeled herself for the oncoming conversation.  This was going to be a hard conversation and they wouldn’t know what the right answer was until Hawkmoth was defeated or they failed spectacularly… in other words, died.   She didn’t know how she felt about Jason staying… no, that was a lie.  She knew how she felt.  She could feel it in her bones.  She wanted him to stay.  She just didn’t know if it was because she thought he could help or because she would miss seeing his lopsided smile.  She took another steadying breath.

Before she could reach for the door, it swung open, just barely missing hitting her in the face.  She was met with Nino’s amused smile.  “Didn’t want to come through the front door?”

“Didn’t want to take the chance of him seeing me in the hallway,” she answered calling off her transformation.  “I don’t want to give him more clues than he already has if we decide we don’t want him to stay.”

“Are you going to be okay if that is the decision?” Nino asked cautiously.

Marinette peeked around him into the room to see who else would hear her answer.  It wasn’t like she didn’t know she was going to have to say the same thing to the rest of the group, she just needed to know how prepared to be right now.  “Where’s everyone else?” She asked instead of answering.

“Chloe and Adrien aren’t here yet.  Alya’s in the bathroom.  So you only have a few minutes if there’s something you want to say uninterrupted,” he responded knowingly.

She smiled at him.  He was always more observant than people gave him credit for. And always willing to offer a safe place for the people he cared about, whether that be physically safe, mentally safe, emotionally safe, or all three.  The perfect turtle.  “I’ll be okay with the decision,” she confirmed with a sigh.  “I’ll miss him.  God, I’ve only spent a total of about three hours with him and I’d miss him so much already.”

“That far gone for him already, huh?” Nino asked with a soft, guilty look in his eyes.

She looked up at him sheepishly, “I decided on names for three of our kids today.”  Nino chuckled at her, shaking his head.  Yeah, she was that far gone.  She gave him a weak smile.  “And it isn’t like I wouldn’t be able to see him ever again.  There’s always after we take down Hawkmoth, right?”

He gave her a sad smile and pulled her in for a hug, resting his head on hers.  “Yeah… right.”  He hated it. He hated that she had to keep putting her life on hold for this fight.  Both she and Adrien did.  He saw the toll it was taking on them, repeatedly giving up parts of themselves. Adrien couldn’t escape his father’s sphere of influence because he couldn’t leave Paris.  Every aspect of his life was controlled and dictated as far as his father knew.  

Marinette had already turned down numerous internship offers and university scholarships.  Giving up enormous opportunities.  They both have had to give up on relationship after relationship before they could even start.  Can’t really build a relationship if you have to leave every date with a crap excuse.  And now she had finally found someone she felt passionate about, someone who could understand her in a way nobody else had been able to, someone she actually started to consider a future with, something she hadn’t done in years, and she had to walk away from that too.  

And she did have to walk away, not just for them and Paris, but for herself.  They couldn’t allow someone like him to stay.  He was well trained, violent, ruthless, knew her identity, and someone for whom Marinette already cared deeply.  Which meant someone for whom Ladybug cared deeply.  Which meant, when he became akumatized, and it was a when not an if, he would be the perfect weapon.  He would destroy Ladybug, them, then Paris, and then possibly the world, depending on what the wish was.

“You two going to stay out there all night?” Alya asked, leaning against the doorframe.  Her eyebrow was quirked watching them.  She knew something important had just happened, just not what.  And despite dying from curiosity, she wouldn’t ask.  She wasn’t going to push Marinette on this one.  She would trust that Nino had helped and she would keep an eye on Marinette to see if she seemed like she needed more.

Marinette looked over at Alya with exaggeratedly wide eyes.  “Oh no, she caught us.”

“Oh no, what will we do?” Nino played along.

“Alya, I’m so sorry.  We didn’t want you to find out this way.” Marinette pled with her, hand over her heart in regret.

Alya rolled her eyes and gave Marinette a wicked smile.  “Well, you are his free pass so…”

Marinette bolted up straight and made a face, quirking her lips to the side with a scrunched up nose.  “I don’t think I like this game anymore.”

Nino laughed as Alya came over to him and curled into his side.  “Who said it was a game?”  She asked innocently.

“Alya!” Marinette groaned, making Nino laugh even harder.

“You started this,” he reminded her.  “And also, thank you for that response.”

“Really?” Marinette gave him a deadpan look.  “You wouldn’t respond the same way?”

“Of course not.  I should only be so lucky.” He smiled smugly at her with a gentlemanly bow, removing his hat to hold it over his heart.

“Oh?” Marinette quirked an eyebrow and looked over to Alya who held her hands up disavowing her involvement in the situation. Marinette started walking slowly over to Nino, swaying her hips ever so slowly.  Alya suppressed a smile and slowly backed away from Nino, leaving him to his fate.  “So the idea of kissing me, of touching me…” she brought her hand up her stomach ever so slowly, just barely making contact.  Nino gulped.  “… tongues touching, fingers and hands going…. everywhere,” she breathed out the last word, just a few inches from his face.

Nino scrunched his face and backed away with a groan.  “Yeah, yeah, okay, okay.  Fuck, dudette, put away the atomic weaponry.  It’s wasted on me anyway.  I get what you mean.  No offense, but it would be like kissing my sister.” His whole body shuddered in disgust at the thought.

Marinette laughed loudly, leaning on Alya for support, which was a poor choice really considering she was laughing just as hard. They fell onto a patio chair together, still laughing hard.  Nino shook his head at them but couldn’t stop himself from laughing too.  “You two are terrible.”

“You asked for it, honey.  This is your fault,” Alya pointed out, still laughing.

“Are we doing this thing or are you guys planning on screwing around all night long?” Chloe called out.  She didn’t even bother looking at them as she plopped into an arm chair and opened a magazine.

“Oh, no.  No screwing around.  We decided.” Marinette responded with a grin, making eye contact with Nino who scoffed and shook his head again, making Alya laugh again.

“There’s a story there,” Adrien commented, walking to the seating area with a few snacks.  “But you’ll have to tell us later.  Right now, we have a more important conversation we need to have.”

Marinette, Alya, and Nino’s carefree, bright smiles were replaced with serious expressions, ready to have the heart wrenching conversation they needed to have.  Marinette took a deep breath.  “Right into it then,” she said in a resigned voice.

“Best way to handle it,” Adrien said sympathetically.  She nodded at him to let him know she understood.  “Why don’t you tell us what happened.”

Marinette sighed and sat on the arm rest of the arm chair opposite Chloe.  Nino, Alya, and Adrien sat on the couch, staring up at her expectantly.  “There isn’t much more to tell than you know already. He came into the bakery, waited until everyone was gone and came up to talk to me.  He didn’t know I was Ladybug when he came in.  He came to find me.  Me, me.  He said he’s alone.  The rest of the family doesn’t know my name let alone who I am.  He doesn’t know who you all are. He didn’t tell his family some of the things I said while we were dancing so they don’t have as many clues on where to look as he did and he got help from someone who isn’t going to help the rest of the family.”

“Constantine?” Adrien asked darkly.

She shook her head, “No, someone who saw me change dresses.  As far as I know, Constantine is still avoiding the bats.”

“So, if he didn’t know your identity until he was talking to you, just how exactly did he figure out your identity while you were together?” Alya waggled her eyebrows at her.

Marinette rolled her eyes at Alya while Adrien and Nino giggled at the suggestion and Chloe gave an annoyed huff.  “Apparently, insults aren’t covered by the magic glamour.”

“I think you mean flirting,” Adrien responded automatically before thinking about what she said and paled slightly.  That was concerning news.  Insults and nicknames were his thing.  Insults for akumas, nicknames for his friends.  It’s what he did.  If that was all it took to expose their identities…. there were likely A LOT of Parisians who actually knew his identity.  “Wait, really?”

“That’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.  If that were true, everyone in Paris would know Chat’s identity,” Chloe scoffed.  Alya and Nino cocked their heads to the side in unison and nodded.  She wasn’t wrong.

Tikki spoke up timidly from her spot on the coffee table.  “It isn’t the insults that aren’t covered.”

Marinette’s eyes widened as she thought about what Tikki was saying.  “Oh God, you aren’t going to say it has something to do with soulmates or something, are you?” she asked apprehensively.

“Why the Hell would you be afraid of that?” Chloe questioned her incredulously.  Seriously? Only fucking Marinette would think that was a problem.

Tikki floated up to the center of the room, rolling her whole body instead of her eyes.  “No, that doesn’t exist.  People are capable of being a whole person all on their own.  They don’t need someone else to complete them.  Just because someone can fit with you perfectly, that doesn’t mean they were designed to or always will.”

“No, she means he’s spent time in the Lazarus pits,” Plagg explained, extremely unhelpfully as he shoved a piece of cheese easily as big as him into his mouth.  

Trixx squealed and flew over to him.  “No way!  Seriously? That is amazing.”

Wayzz looked between Plagg and Tikki with concern. “Are you sure?”

Tikki nodded at him solemnly, “I could feel it on him.”

The humans in the room looked from one to the other to see if anyone knew what that meant, but there were no signs of recognition, only confusion.  Nobody knew exactly what the Lazarus pit meant but judging by the kwamis’ somber responses, except for Trixx, who liked chaos, even more than Plagg at times, it wasn’t good.

Finally Alya was the one to ask the question on all their minds, “What is the Lazarus pit?”

Tikki sighed and looked down guiltily.  “The Lazarus Pits were a result of a wish a couple hundred years ago.  A villain got the Ladybug earrings and Black Cat ring and wished for eternal life. The pits were the result.  They can bring good physical health to anyone who bathes in it.”

Marinette stared at Tikki absentmindedly.  Someone had made a wish.  Someone had gotten their hands on both miraculous and made a wish. It had happened.  The monks had lost at some point.  That… made her feel better?  A little bit.  The monks had failed.  Even with all their experience and knowledge, they had failed.  She hadn’t failed that badly… yet.  So she was doing a good job, a better job than the experts on it.  

Oh, no.  That was bad.  If the experts had failed, what chance did she have?  They had hundreds of years of experience and knowledge.  They could actually read the texts and had texts to use.  She started breathing more rapidly running the words Tikki had said through her mind again… and again… and again…  Wait…  “Physical health?” She looked up at Tikki questioningly.

Plagg cackled next to her, doing excited summersaults in the air.  “Good catch, Pigtails.” He grinned maliciously.  “Physical only. Everything else deteriorates more rapidly.  Once can drive someone insane and repeated dips… you’ll wish for death.”

Marinette looked at Plagg horrified.  “Jason…” she whispered out like a breath. If the Lazarus pits traumatized someone so badly mentally whenever someone used them, how badly had Jason suffered?  Was he still suffering?  How badly had he suffered physically to use them in the first place?

“Yeah, yeah, that’s completely terrifying and all but what does that have to do with the miraculous glamour?” Chloe asked sharply, trying to hide her concerned look at Marinette.

“Another side effect,” Plagg grinned maniacally. “People who’ve been dipped aren’t as susceptible to the miraculous magic.  So if they’ve ever been dipped, or even spent a long time around them, they can never wield one.  The more exposure, the worse the effects.  You have to be human to wield the miraculous and every dip strips a bit of humanity away.”

Nino nodded along as he spoke, “So they can use the results of the wish, but if they do, they do so at the expense of ever being able to use it again.”

“Exactly,” Plagg grinned.

“So what you’re saying is Jason was exposed and because of that, even if we let him stay, he wouldn’t be able to help us or protect himself with a miraculous?” Adrien summed up with a sigh.

Tikki shot a furtive look to Marinette to check on her, “He wouldn’t be able to wield one to fight alongside you or protect himself.”

Marinette looked over at Tikki curiously.  “That means he wouldn’t be as susceptible to becoming akumatized, doesn’t it?”  She could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she spoke.

“That’s what I’m hearing,” Chloe threw in a little too casually to be as uninterested as she acted.

“If the miraculous magic isn’t as effective against him, then Hawkmoth’s draw won’t be as powerful.  It should be easier for him to resist.  It would also mean if there was another illusion based akuma, he should be able to tell there was something off about it, right?”  She looked over to Plagg.

Plagg puckered his lips considering what she had said.  “That sounds right.”

“That is right!” Tikki exclaimed happily doing a few flips in the air before sobering and stilling in the air.  “He can resist Hawkmoth more easily than others, but not be able to defend himself.”

“But it isn’t definite, right?” Alya interjected. “It makes it easier but…” she took a deep breath and looked at Marinette sympathetically.  “But this is a bat, and a violent one at that.  This is a man who likes to push his way through people and situations with little to no regard for the consequences.  This is someone that voluntarily jumped into the pit to heal himself, knowing the price.  Are we really so sure he would resist?”

“You don’t know how he ended up in the pit!” Marinette exclaimed quickly.  “We don’t know how it happened or why.  And you don’t know that he doesn’t consider the consequences of his actions.”  The picture Alya was painting absolutely contrasted with the image of Jason Marinette had constructed.  Every interaction she had with him, every word, every inflection, every move, every reflex, every roll of his eyes, every twitch, every smile, every promise, showed Marinette that he could and would resist the allure of easy power and easy solutions, even if it hurt him to do it. The information about the Lazarus pit did concern her, but she refused to condemn him until she heard from him. He deserved a chance to explain.  

“From all the research you sent me, it sounds like he is very efficient and a strategic planner.  Just because you don’t like his actions, doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought them through.” Chloe added apathetically, pretending to focus on her magazine again.

“Yeah, Chloe, we know how you feel about this,” Alya snapped at her.

“And we know how you feel about it.  Before we even started discussing it, you decided. So how about we have a real conversation about this,” Chloe snapped back, slapping her magazine closed.  “Or actually let’s skip the conversation and the gut wrenching possibilities that either decision is wrong and just agree to let him stay.”

“Chloe, we’re going to discuss this even if you’ve decided,” Nino sighed.

“Why? Tikki already given her consent.  Plagg will do whatever she tells him to do.”  

“Hey!” Plagg interjected but was ignored as Chloe continued.  “Trixx is going to be excited about the potential havoc.  And Wayzz will recommend caution, but not say no.  So all the kwami's are on board.

“I say yes.  Marinette will say yes because she knows deep down she wants him to stay because it feels right.  Adrien will say yes because she said yes.  Then it's just down to you two. And we both know Alya is not going to say no because despite how worried she is, that boy put a ton of effort into finding Marinette and Marinette likes him. And you're not going to say no because everyone else says yes and you know how much Marinette has sacrificed already and you are not about to ask her to sacrifice more.  So why are we even talking this?”

“I am worried about this!” Alya stood up annoyed.  She was not going to let Chloe steamroll them with reason and logic. Alya had reason and logic too, damn it. “And with good reason.  We can’t trust him!” she cried loudly.  “We have no reason to.  All we have to go on is what the bats and Justice League have done in the past, how they’ve handled situations they decided to ‘help’ with. And their track record is shitty. Absolutely, without question Godawful. If we let the Bat family into Paris…” Alya cautioned them.

“Those akumas came meditation room fast,” Nino reminded them.  “Less than a few minutes in costume and the akumas were already on their way.”

“We aren’t talking about the Bat family,” Marinette cut in.  “Just Jason.  Right now, we’re only discussing Jason.  I don’t trust the rest of the Bats yet and I don’t know that I would ever really trust Batman completely.  Which is another point for Jason.  He doesn’t trust him either.  We can’t hold the actions of the Justice League against Jason. And we can’t hold the akumas against him either.  There were four bats there and the three others looked a lot more emotional than Jason.”

“I don’t know what scene you were watching,” Nino commented calmly.  “Jason looked pretty emotionally invested.”

“Yeah,” Chloe scoffed, “invested in finding his fuck buddy.”

“I am not… we have not… just… shut up unless you’re going to say something helpful.” Marinette stuttered out.

“That was helpful.” Chloe rolled her eyes.  “Unlike the other bats, he wasn’t angry, he was emotional because he was worried about finding Marinette… so he could fuck her.”

Marinette’s already red face turned burgundy.  She opened her mouth a few times to respond, but just collapsed back in the arm chair with her head in her hands.  “Thank you,” she mumbled out through her hands.

“You’re welcome,” Chloe responded smugly, settling back into her seat.

Alya was getting annoyed with the direction the conversation was going. Every time she made a point, Chloe would sidetrack them.  “Back to the fucking point,” Alya growled out, “if he got akumatized he’d be a perfect weapon.”  She started ticking off her points on her fingers.  “He’s incredibly well trained, better than all of us combined, better than any of the bats.” One finger up. “He’s familiar with magic and how to push it.” Another finger up.  “He has training and experience with creating battle strategies based on using magic.” Third finger up.  “He’s strong, probably the strongest bat.” Another finger up.  She hesitated staring at her thumb.  There were so very many reasons, why couldn’t she think of it now?

“He knows who Ladybug is,” Nino supplied for her. Alya looked around smugly and put out her thumb as well.  “He knows who Ladybug is and how to hit her so it hurts.  He can hit Marinette where it hurts the worst, cause permanent damage,” he looked at Marinette sympathetically as he said it.  The most pressing reasons for him not to stay were because of her and they all knew it.

They stared at each other for a few moments, nobody sure what to say before Marinette finally spoke up.  “You said Jason was great at strategy so he would be too powerful as an akuma, but a few minutes ago you said he would become an akuma because he rushes into things without thinking.  So which one is it?”  Alya stared at her uncertain.  

“Because him knowing my identity is only a problem if you assume he will become an akuma.  You all know my identity and it hasn’t been a problem.  In fact deciding to reveal ourselves to each other has only strengthened us.  And he,” she vaguely motioned toward the other side of the hotel where Jason’s room was, “has more tools to repel it than we do.  And all the reasons why he would be too dangerous to us are also reasons why he would be dangerous for Hawkmoth. Plus adding in his detective experience. We need a detective.  Even if he doesn’t fight with us, he can investigate while we fight and go to school.  None of us have had the chance to focus on this full time and he can and he has the experience to know how to do it properly.”

“All of that is what is called an asset, but he’s exceptionally risky which makes him a volatile asset, but an asset none the less.  You have a higher probability for significantly greater gains with a volatile asset than a regular asset.” Chloe added.  “It’s more likely to skyrocket.”

“Or plummet,” Adrien pointed out.  “The point of a volatile asset is that it is just as likely to go up as down and there is no way to predict.”

Chloe’s eyes sparkled like he fell into a trap.  “Unless you have luck on your side.”

Adrien nodded in deferment.  “What does your gut say about Jason, Marinette?” Adrien turned to her with searching eyes.

Marinette considered the question.  What did her gut say?  Ignoring all the pressures and desires, what did her instincts say? Separating desire from instinct… so the question isn’t ‘does she want him to stay,’ the questions are ‘does she trust him,’ ‘does she think he wants to help,’ ‘does she think he can help,’ ‘does she think they will be able to use his help,’ and ‘does she think he will make the situation in Paris better.’ And the answer to all of those questions is the exact same one word answer. “My gut says let him stay.  My instincts say he will help us finish this.”

“Then I say he stays.” Adrien shrugged.

“Just like that?” Alya looked at him exasperatedly.

“Just like that.” Adrien nodded.  “I trust Marinette’s instincts.  I always have and they have never steered me or any of us wrong.” He looked over and noted Nino and Alya’s expressions.  “It means something,” he continued, passion filling his voice.  “It means something that she met him at the gala.  Of all the people she could have met, she met him, she met not only a bat, but that bat.  The one bat, I assume, that has some kind of immunity to the miraculous magic.”

“Coincidence, dude.  That is all coincidence and Constantine.  You said Constantine admitted to planning all of this.” Nino sighed out annoyed.  “I means Constantine is a good manipulator.”

“No,” Adrien answered back quickly.  “I mean, yes, he is.  But, no that isn’t what it means.  Constantine set up the scenario, but there was no way to know she would catch a Wayne’s attention, let alone Jason’s. It was what he hoped for, but he was relying heavily on Ladybug’s luck for things to turn out the way they were meant to.  And just think about it,” he leaped up to pace in front of them with a new realization.  “Think about the lucky charm!”

“Trackers,” Alya supplied confused.

“No!” Adrien grinned like he just solved a puzzle and everything was suddenly clear.  “The lucky charm was Red Hood.  Tikki could have given us trackers herself but she didn’t. She sent Marinette to Jason to get the trackers.  I don’t think that was just for that battle.  I think it was for the war.”

“Dude!” Nino said in awe.  “That’s really good.”

“We need a vote from everyone.  Yes or no on whether we let him stay.  If we decide he can stay then we need to agree on how much to tell him.” Marinette said carefully.  “I vote yes.”

“I vote yes,” Adrien smiled at her popping a grape into his mouth and settling into the couch.  “Chlo?”

Chloe looked up from her magazine with an annoyed expression.  “I thought the right answer was pretty clear.”

“It isn’t that easy Chloe.” Alya’s voice was strained.

“Isn’t it?  I’m sorry let me make it that easy.  I say we let the hot boy she wants to bang stay.”  She looked at their shocked faces, all except for Marinette whose face was bright red and mouth was gaping.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  Is it even more complicated than that?  Let the rich, hot boy she wants to bang stay.”  She paused and looked between them again. “No?  Even more complicated?  Let the rich, hot, hero boy she wants to bang stay.” She looked at them again waiting for someone to say something.  “Seriously? Fine.  Let the rich, hot, hero boy she wants to bang and who wants to bang her stay.”

Nino looked at her with a bit of confusion and concern.  “Are you feeling okay, Chloe?”

“It’s not like she’s ever going to find anyone else like that again.” She sniped, turning back to the magazine.

“Ah, there she is,” Nino said nodding as he looked away with a sigh.

Alya looked between the two of them and let out a weighty sigh.  “Fine.  I say yes too.  I trust your instincts too.  You are Lady Luck for a reason.  We can use a little bit of a shakeup.  Hopefully, this is the right kind.”  She sat down and leaned against Nino, praying they were making the right decision.  She looked back up at Marinette with a foxy glint in her eyes.  “And if he helps you get lucky as well…”

Marinette groaned and threw the arm chair pillow at Alya’s head. Despite the pillow actually hitting its mark, Alya started laughing raucously, followed quickly by everyone else, including Marinette.

“That just leaves you, Nino.  No pressure, you’re allowed to say no.” Marinette assured him.

“I say yes, too.” He nodded at her with a smile.  “How else are you going to use those kids names you came up with?” Nino grinned cheekily.  He knew exactly what kind of a havoc he was wreaking and couldn’t wait to sit back and watch it happen.

  Chapter 10

   Brat in French is morveuse or morveu (according to Google Translate).  Jason just missed the ‘u’ or the ‘use’ at the end.

The English ‘Jane’ and ‘Joan’ both translate in French as Jeanne.

  Tags:

@loveswifi @mystery-5-5 @dreamykitty25 @ira-sairain @wannajointhecrabcult @susiej1118 @casual-darkness @mandy984 @darkthunder1589 @chez-pezeater @emilytopaz @elements1999 @mermaidreject @dramatic-squirrel @thenillabean @alysrose-starchild @phoenixperegrinebitch @nickristus-dreamer @goblinwhoships @valeks-princess @redscarlet95 @inarachi02 @unrepentantgeek @theymakeupfairies @smolplantmum @moongoddesskiana @thehufflepuffranger-blog @fusser90 @spyofthenightcourt @jayverca @animegirlweeb @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @consumeconstantly @lozzybowe @novicevoice @random-fandoms7 @acoolspacegirl @laurcad123 @dast218 @frieddonutsweets @maribat-is-lifeblood @g-arya @fantasiame @lilkymilky @corabeth11 @roselynfey @babylovebug18 @pepelachanel @atramentias @jalaluvsu @nathleigh @iloontjeboontje @spicybelladonna @kokotaru @zalladane @zebrabaker @too0bsessedformyowngood @demonicbusiness   @our-preciousss @ertyzeta  @nik-nak-3 @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @no-username2544 @2confused-2doanything @maybe-nonsense @icebluedolphin2365 @fc-studios @bee-wrecker @ichigorose @kking13 @officiallydarkgeek

[orbitariums]

winter with a weasley | fred w. + black fem. reader

i was tired of searching high and low for hp imagines with black readers so !! here goes my own :) send me recs of hp writers who write for black girls!!!

reader is a black woman and a ravenclaw!

happy holidays <333

word count: 5k

     The pitter patter of snow could be heard from inside the dimly lit library, wet snowflakes streaking down the window panes of the large window beside you. The night sky was falling upon you, twinkling stars forming around the top of the castle. The air was clear, no fog to be seen, but your eyes were glazing over as if you were in the midst of a fog storm anyway, your nose buried deep in a copy of “Winograd’s Wondrous Water Plants.” You blinked away the sleepiness clouding up your eyesight, stifling a yawn. The candle in front of you threatened to burn out, and you flicked a lazy finger towards it, the flame rising once again. You were grateful for the cozy, thick sweater Luna had knitted you, protecting you from the slight chill that was penetrating the glass window. You pulled it closer to you, though its warmth threatened to make you fall asleep. 

     You had hardly realized that your cheek was dragging against your palm, and that your eyes were feeling droopier than ever, until you were jolted to a start when you heard Harry Potter’s voice from beside you. He was standing at the side of the otherwise empty library table that you were sitting at, a book clutched beneath his arm. 

     “There you are, everyone’s been wondering where you were. Well, mainly Fred,” Harry admitted, his eyes glancing at you, hunched over your book with nothing but candlelight in front of you. “What’re you doing in the library anyway, exams are over.”

You pushed your shoulder blades back, relieving some of the tension in your body from being curled up with books for hours after classes had ended for the winter break. You were slightly relieved to see Harry, as you were starting to get sort of a headache from all the words jumbling up together on the page. You replied with a small smile.

     “Just doing some after-exam review, that’s all. I want to see what I missed, if anything. 

That way I’ll know what to study harder for next time, that’s all,” you shrugged, and Harry couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

     “Just like Hermione,” he noted. “I’m only in here because I’m returning a book. Fred will think you’ve gone mental, studying after exams.”

You chuckled to think of the pink-faced, tousle-haired Weasley twin. He was crazy about you, and everyone knew it. You, on the other hand, were far too focused on your studies to pay him any real attention. He was a distraction, and a horrible one at that— you’d never ace your exams if you were with him, he’d probably have you helping set up him and George’s next prank. Your playfully unamused demeanor towards his advances didn’t stop him anyway, he still teased you and flirted with you every chance he got, because no matter how much you told yourself you shouldn’t have a boyfriend, he always caught how bashful you became at his flirtatious remarks.  

     “Well, he’ll survive, won’t he?” you shook your head playfully, and Harry nodded in the other direction, out of the library.

     “Take a break, we’re having a little party in the common room, you should join us,” Harry suggested, and you took one glance from your books to the lanky boy in front of you before sighing and closing your book. Why not?

     When you clamored through the entrance to the common room after avoiding the Fat Lady’s attempt at a poor rendition of Deck the Halls, you were met with all the holiday cheer you’d ever need for a lifetime. The Gryffindor common room, already in the Christmas spirit with all its red furniture, was draped in Christmas lights and holiday wreaths. The sound of holiday music blasted through the room, bewitched so that it was unable to be heard by passersby, in the hopes that no one would break up their little party. 

     The smell of baked goods wafted past your nose as you entered, and you found your stomach growling— you’d spent lunch studying, hardly eating a thing, and you’d skipped out on dinner to huddle up in the practically deserted library. In the corner of the room was a tree that changed colors each time someone passed by it, and you could see aggravated gnomes shuffling about on one of the window sills, griping about how they were forced into itchy, tiny holiday sweaters. The room was warm and full of Christmas cheer, and you could even spot a student with a permanent drizzle of snow over their head, covered in a coat and a beanie with white flakes spotting the top. 

     You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, covering your mouth with your hand. You were glad Harry had gotten you out, otherwise you’d probably still be in the library half-asleep. This was much, much better, and you weren’t just saying that. You could see Hermione and Ron approaching you, broad grins on their faces.

     “There you are! We were hoping you’d show up,” Hermione gave you a hug, followed by Ron.

     “Harry says you were in the library. Honestly, I don’t understand you two,” Ron said, meaning you and Hermione. 

Hermione rolled her eyes while you just chuckled, though you were promptly distracted,

     “Well, I’m here now. Is that treacle fudge?”

You headed over to the table of food in a hungry daze, your mouth threatening to water the closer you got to it. You were stacking on food onto a holiday themed plate before you knew it, chicken legs smothered with gravy, greens, cornish pasties, pumpkin sandwich cookies, and treacle tart. You were about to grab utensils, your eyes focused on the table below you, until you were barricaded by two all-too-familiar figures on either side of you. You sighed in exasperation, looking up at Fred Weasley, who was in front of you, then turning to George Weasley, who was directly behind you. 

     “Fancy seeing you here!” George exclaimed, a wide grin on his face. 

     “Really, would’ve thought you were gonna be a no-show!” Fred cupped your shoulder with his hand, spinning you to face him.

     “Though, how could he miss you?” George started, making you turn again to face him this time.

     “You positively light up the room when you walk in,” Fred answered George smoothly, spinning you by the shoulder yet again for you to face him.

You were dizzy from the amount of times the twins had you spinning this way and that, but you steadied yourself in enough time to wag your finger disapprovingly at Fred, the main culprit in all this,

     “Must you always surround me?”

You reached for a fork and a knife, but Fred conjured both from his robes pocket, teeth sparkling as he grinned widely at you. 

You rolled your eyes, but took the fork and knife anyway, muttering a thanks.

     “Really though, where were you?” Fred asked, following you even as you walked away, side by side. 

     “The library,” you answered shortly, and Fred stared at you, shaking his head in clear disdain,

     “Honestly, woman, don’t you ever take a break?”

You turned to face him, snickering as you rolled your eyes and took a bite of your treacle fudge,

     “Don’t you ever take a break?”

Fred smirked, poking underneath your chin with a coquettish finger,

     “Not from you.”

You couldn’t help the heat that flooded your cheeks even if the response was corny. Fred Weasley was always quick on his feet, and never one to back down from a challenge. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like him in the way he so obviously liked you. It was so amusing to watch, even if it could be annoying— no matter what, Fred was shamelessly, devastatingly in love with you. He wasn’t embarrassed to be turned down, or to show it in the only ways he knew how: through poking fun at you and using the most annoying, yet memorable pick up lines in the book on you. 

     “I’ve noticed,” you cocked your head with a smug expression, and Fred only shook his head, gearing up to say something just as smug as you until he was interrupted by the soft hum of Luna Lovegood’s voice as she zoomed up behind you, happy to see you wearing her sweater.

     “YN!” she exclaimed, her voice wispy and cheerful as usual. 

     You turned to face her, completely dismissing Fred, who decided he’d get you back later. You engulfed her in a hug, and the two of you got to talking, dancing, and sharing a jug of butterbeer that George had smuggled in. 

You had finished the jug and your food, and you were laying back on one of the couches in front of the crackling fireplace, which was roaring high with orange-hued flames. You were tired, but the good kind, not from spending hours hunched over a book this time around, but from partying and eating so much you could hardly move. Ron, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor in front of you, scarfing down another turkey leg. 

      “Honestly, Ron, do you ever stop eating?” Hermione hissed on the floor beside him, and Ron frowned, whining through a mouthful of food,

     “It’s the holidays, Her-my-knee, let me live for once.”

     Apparently, it was now time for the gift giving, which the Weasley twins were in charge of emceeing, and they were making a very big deal of it. Each time someone was up to give a gift, they used their wands as microphones, their voices booming around the room as they called the names of the people meant to collect their gifts from the receiver. Harry had gotten Ron a Chudley Cannons quidditch shirt, you already had Luna’s sweater and you had given her a pair of flying sneakers to make flying that much easier. All the gift-giving and receiving was quite lovely to watch, and everyone ended up satisfied. The twins had made sure no one left empty handed, giving people goodies that would probably turn into toads in an hour or two. 

     “And now, the last present of the night, and we truly do save the best for last,” George announced with a proud, thunderous voice. 

Fred eased up beside George like a sneaky weasel, George throwing an arm around his shoulders. Fred had something in a sparkly, glittering gift bag, and everyone was intrigued, leaning forward to see what it was. 

     “Take it away, Freddy,” George patted Fred’s shoulder, then slinked away so Fred could have the floor all to himself. 

     “This gift goes out to a special someone,” Fred wiggled his eyebrows, deliberately making his voice deeper, and everyone started to hoot lowly. “A certain little smartypants Ravenclaw girl who has my heart.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully and looking away from Fred, who had zeroed in on you. 

     “She’s a bit shy,” Fred joked, making the room erupt in laughter. 

     “Go on!” Luna prodded you, her eyes twinkling as she smiled at you. 

      You lugged yourself up off the couch and got up, making your way over to Fred, who was standing in front of everyone next to the color-changing Christmas tree, which burned a passionate red when you stood in front of Fred. 

     “You idiot,” you remarked playfully, and he only grinned, handing you the bag.

     “See what’s inside, won’t you!” George hollered, and you glared at him before opening the bag. 

     Inside was a flower in a pot full of red soil. Not just any flower, but perhaps the most beautiful flower you’d ever seen. Its leaves, a pale pink color, seemed to shine, light radiating off of the petals and basking your face in a warm glow. The petals were fat and wide, spiraling at the end into little hollow heart shapes, all of which were of varying colors. As it got closer to the center, the colors of the flower grew into deeper myriads of pinks and purples. You had never seen such a plant before, and you were a top herbology student, plants and flowers were your specialty. It was so beautiful, and probably rare as well. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but nothing like this. You were so surprised, you half expected it to be a prank of Fred and George’s, thinking it might transfigure into a mole rat.

     The rest of the students in the packed common room were just as shocked as you were, gasping and whispering amongst themselves, immediately enamoured by the unique beauty of the flower that made cooing noises in your hand like a little puppy. 

     “Fred,” you gasped, looking up at him with widened eyes.

     “Thought it’d fit you, know you’re into plants and all that smart people stuff,” Fred grinned, clearly satisfied with your reaction. 

     “I-it’s amazing, I-”

     “That’s not all, he’s got more for you in the bag!” George cut you off, and Fred shoved him playfully, laughing, 

     “Shut up, you bloke! Let her see for herself.”

     You ruffled through the bag, which was indeed full of your favorite sweets— honeydukes chocolate, pepper imps, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Beans, chocolate frogs, and more. You could hardly generate a response, your mouth stuck open in an o-shape. You liked Fred, but you didn’t expect this from him.

You chuckled, still shocked, and grinned, bemused,

     “Fred, this really is a lot, I honestly didn’t expect it. I-I don’t know how to thank you!”

Before you knew it, you were lunging forward to embrace him, hugging him tight in front of everyone. He was lucky he could cover his face in your shoulder, because he was red as a tomato. You gazed at the flower in your hands when you pulled away, still entranced by it. 

     “‘M glad you like it,” Fred murmured almost shyly, the first you’d ever heard him sound anything other than cocky.

You frowned, truly feeling terrible— you weren’t expecting anything from Fred, and so you didn’t get him anything. Now you felt horrible, standing there empty handed when he’d just given you the most thoughtful, beautiful gift. 

     “Oh, Fred, I didn’t get you anything!” you bemoaned, your eyebrows furrowing together. “I feel horrible.”

     “‘S alright, you’ll make it up to me,” Fred smirked, leaning back against the wall of the fireplace and folding his arms. 

The room filled with a plethora of suggestive “oohs” and “ahhs”, and when you turned to face Ron, you saw he had gone red from watching his brother flirt with you, meanwhile Harry was stifling a laugh, and Ginny was burying her face in her knees while Hermione rolled her eyes. You looked back over at Fred and couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head slowly. 

     “I just might have to,” was all you said, George leaping onto Fred in celebration. 

After the gift giving was over, well, it had ended with you, (and it really was best for last), the party started to wind down as people began to say their goodbyes and make their way back to their dorms. Most people would be going home for Christmas, but you’d be staying here at Hogwarts, scraping by with the few friends who would still be there. But, you weren’t getting away with it that easy. While talking with Fred, George, Hermione, Ron and Harry, you mentioned how you’d be staying in the castle for break. They all made an uproar in disagreement, shaking their heads and complaining.

     “That’s rubbish, you’ve got to at least come to our place over break,” George threw his hands up, and Fred nodded vigorously— you couldn’t help but think this had been on his mind the longest.    

     “Yes, do come to The Burrow, I’ll be there as well,” Hermione insisted, clutching your arm. 

You smiled, looking around at all the needy faces. You hadn’t expected them to be so welcoming, it was already a full house. You didn’t want to intrude, “Won’t your mom be so busy? I mean, all of us? I don’t want to make her holiday stressful.”

     George scoffed, 

     “The woman will make it stressful no matter what.”

     “Really. Besides, mum loves you,” Fred persisted. “She can’t get over me being with a smart Ravenclaw girl who’ll keep me out of trouble.”

You snorted,

     “But I’m not with you.”

     “You will be,” Fred shrugged, unbothered, and you refused to meet his eye because you knew you wouldn’t be able to restrain your smile if you did look at him. 

     “Come on, just come with us! We’ll be leaving in a few days and get there just a day before Christmas Eve, that’s more than enough time to pack your things,” Ron demanded, and you couldn’t help but give in, your body shaking with laughter. 

     “Alright, alright, I’ll spend the holiday with you.”

The circle of friends erupted into cheers, and you grinned, your sparkling eyes meeting Fred’s, who was truly glad he’d have you there for the break. 

     Things were really beginning to wind down shortly after, and you were getting ready to head back to your dorm and go to bed. Luna had already left, and you were one of the few people still remaining. You’d spent the rest of your time talking to that circle of friends, though Fred got next to you whenever he could and talked your ear off. When you were on your way to leave, holding your gift in its sparkly gift bag from Fred, you turned around at the sound of footsteps thudding behind you. It was Fred, running up to you, coming to a stop in front of you,

     “YN, wait. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” 

     “Sure,” you grinned warmly. 

You and Fred left together, walking side by side in the dark, winding halls of the castle. You talked quietly, Fred taking any chance to make you laugh, and you did laugh each and every time. You stopped in front of your dormitory and stood there, facing each other, not quite saying anything, just smiling stupidly at each other. It was almost humorous how you tried to avoid your fate with Fred, knowing you liked him back. But you always beat around the bush, because you were really a very studious girl and you knew Fred Weasley would just be a distraction. But you knew he wasn’t that bad. How could he be?

     “Well,” you sniffed awkwardly, cupping your gift bag in your palms. 

     “Welllll,” Fred echoed, dragging out the word and making you laugh. 

     “Really, Fred, thank you, I can’t imagine how you even got this, it’s beautiful, really.”

     “Reminded me of you.”

     “Oh, Fred,” you groaned, making a face like you’d just tasted a sour lemon and laughing. “You’re so cheesy.”

     “But you like that about me,” Fred squinted his eyes at you, as if he was seeing right through you. 

     “I can neither confirm or deny that statement. Your head might explode if I confirm,” you teased, and he simply nodded in agreement.

     “You’ve got a point.”

     “Really though, how did you get this? I’ve never seen such a thing before. Don’t tell me you stole it from Professor Sprout.”

     “Honestly, how much of a git do you think I am? I’ve got my connections, that’s all. It’s special, keep your eye on it.”

     “Alright,” you grinned, sniffing the fragrant, honey-nectar scented center of the flower.  “I’ll leave you be. I really do feel bad that I didn’t get you anything though. If I’d known I would’ve-”

Fred shook his head, 

     “Oh shut up. Of course I had to get you something, all I wanted this holiday was to get you something you’d like. And you like it, don’t you?” You nodded, and he smiled. “That’s all I need.”

You smiled, pleased, then sighed,

     “I really should get going to bed though, and you should too, it’s nearly curfew.”

Fred merely shrugged carelessly,

     “Meh, I’m on break, who gives a rat’s ass what Filch tries to do.”

     “Okay, Fred, whatever you say,” you grinned, shaking your head playfully at his devil-may-care attitude. “Goodnight, now.”

     “Goodnight,” Fred smiled at you.

You started to turn to your dorm, but you turned back at the last second, saying his name,

     “Wait, Fred?”

     “Yeah?” he replied, only for you to lean forward and kiss him softly on the cheek, pulling away slowly and blinking ever so gently. Blush was rising up his cheeks steadily, and he looked like he had melted on the spot, gawking at you. 

You smiled, satisfied with yourself, and spun around, actually about to leave this time,

     “See you in the morning!”

That night, you could’ve sworn your flower grew at least an inch taller, and you hadn’t even done a thing to it.

In the few days you had left at Hogwarts, you and Fred had been spending an awful lot of time together. You were actually taking the time to get to know him, because deep down you knew it was what you both wanted. Each time George passed by you two talking in an empty corridor, he coughed, “lovebirds!” And finally, it was time to leave. You all boarded the train back home, you sharing a car with Ginny and Hermione while the boys stayed with each other, though Fred passed by every hour or so to try and amuse you. 

     “D’you like him, Fred?” Ginny asked, leaning her head against the cool train window. 

You looked down at the table, unable to hide your smile,

     “Yeah, I do. And he knows it.”

     “I think you two would be cute,” Hermione beamed, glancing up from the newspaper. 

     “I have to say, Fred’s never picked a better choice,” Ginny smiled. 

The holidays at the Weasley house were hectic, but they were lovely all the same. George didn’t lie when he said his mother, Molly Weasley, made holidays stressful, but it was the good kind of stress. You were never bored, or lonely for that matter. You always had something to do, whether it be crusting pies, helping Molly magically wash the dishes, pillow fights with Ron and Harry, or listening to Hermione go on and on about her marks for her exams. Besides, Molly really did love you. She kept gushing over how smart and well-behaved you were. And you were convinced Fred had lied and told her you two were a couple, because any time she saw you and Fred together, she cooed, “you two!” and snapped a picture, leaving you blinded by the flash of her old camera. 

It was probably the most bustling Christmas you’d had yet, and everything was going well.

     The afternoon before, Molly had cooked a wonderful feast to be scarved down for tomorrow, and she put charms on all the meals to keep them warm and protected from the boys, who she knew would try to sneak down and take a bite before it was time. You sauntered around the kitchen on Christmas Eve. It was nighttime, and the kitchen was pitch black except for the light emanating from the tip of your wand. You opened the fridge, trying to make yourself a glass of warm pumpkin juice before bed. You’d stayed up late reading, thinking everyone else had gone to sleep. But you were wrong, and you gasped when the kitchen light turned on suddenly. 

You jumped, clutching your chest and breathing in and out, only to see Fred laughing in the corner of the kitchen. You sighed in relief,

     “Jesus, Fred, you scared me. Thought I was the only one up.”

Fred cocked his head to the side as if he were examining you,

     “Late sleeper?”

You nodded,

     “Sometimes. Why are you up?”

     “I happen to be a late sleeper myself… and I heard your footsteps going down to the kitchen.”

You quirked a brow, amused,

     “So you followed me?”

     “This is my house, if anything, you’re following me,” Fred defended himself, folding his arms.

     “I’m only joking, Weasley,” you snorted, continuing to fix yourself a glass of pumpkin juice.

     “I like when you call me that,” Fred remarked, and you pretended not to hear him, but your cheeks were hot as ever. 

     He got closer to you, standing right beside you at the kitchen counter and leaning against it, watching as your hands shook out of nerves while you poured your juice. Since when did Fred make you nervous? And why was being close to him making you so lightheaded? He was looking at you, but you refused to look at him, keeping your eyes trained on your glass, not even noticing when it almost overflowed because your thoughts were elsewhere.

Fred, who had his cheek pressed into his palm, smirked, and did a onceover of you.

     “Need help?” he taunted you. 

You chuckled nervously, huffing,

     “No?”

     “You sure?” he asked, almost challenging you to look at him. 

You turned to face him, rolling your eyes, but you weren’t prepared for him to be standing up, towering over you. You took a deep breath in, while he simply grinned. You looked up at him, blinking rapidly as if there was something in your eye. 

     “Here,” Fred leaned into you, and you froze, only to realize that he was just pulling out his wand and tapping it against your glass. 

When you picked it up and took a drink, the pumpkin juice was just as warm as you’d wanted it to be, and you didn’t even need to heat it up like you were going to.

     “Thanks,” you grinned, your eyes flickering from his to the floor. 

     “Should be getting to bed. Happy Christmas Eve,” Fred gave you a slick three fingered wave and slinked away up the stairs, leaving you there to exhale a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You were in over your head, for sure. 

On Christmas morning, you were the first one up, surprisingly. You got ready as quietly as possible, passing Hermione’s cat on the way to the bathroom as you got ready. For Christmas, you decided you’d dress nicely, putting on a well-fitting orange turtleneck with a black miniskirt. You headed down the stairs silently and found yourself in the kitchen, holding your plant in your hands so you could place it on the window in front of the sink and let it get a bit more light there. 

You paused when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and when you saw Fred, you bit down on your lip. He grinned at you, dressed in his personal Christmas best, a sweater with “F” emblazoned on it that his mom forced him to wear every holiday season, and black skinny jeans. 

     “Hey,” was all he said with a knowing smile, and you grinned. 

     “Hi.”

     “You’re up early,” Fred remarked, inching close to you so the only thing separating your body from his was the plant you were holding in between the two of you.

     “You are too.”

     “Funny coincidence.”

     “Yeah. You’d almost think you were trying to catch me alone,” you narrowed your eyes at him playfully, a smug smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

     “Maybe, maybe not,” Fred played along. 

     “You’re a real joker, Fred Weasley.”

     “I know,” Fred agreed. “But I’d be a real Scrooge if I didn’t make one tiny little

improvement to this Christmas.”

     “And what’s that?” you chimed. 

Fred tapped his wand just above him, and lo and behold, a mistletoe flower appeared out of thin air, levitating above your heads. You looked up at it, holding your gaze on the plant for a few seconds before giggling, looking down at Fred who was smiling at you. 

     “Merry Christmas,” he remarked quietly, his brown eyes peering into yours, inching his head forward, spreading his warmth. 

     “Merry Christmas,” you practically whispered just in time for his lips to brush against yours, tilting your head forward to engulf him in a slow, sweet kiss under the mistletoe, the light shining in from the kitchen windows, a healthy amount of snow falling outside. 

His lips tasted like peppermint, and he smelled like mischief, but you wanted to hold him close. His sweater was scratchy and warm and thick, bristling against you. He was tender with you, his hands reaching up to roam your face, caressing your cheek and pulling you in closer to him by the small of your back, the petals of the flower in between you pressing against your chests. After a while, you pulled away, Fred’s cheeks red as ever, and your entire body on fire. You weren’t sure why you’d held back for so long, because now that you had a taste of him, you wanted more and more. When you pulled away, you blinked a bit, coming back down onto earth. When you and Fred met eyes again, you both giggled stupidly, clearly high off each other’s touch. 

     When you looked down at the plant, you noticed it had grown inches taller suddenly, and you looked down at it in bewilderment. It had done the same thing after you parted ways with Fred the night of the holiday party in the Gryffindor common room. 

Fred answered the question you were about to ask, 

     “It’s an Amorfluous flower. It’s meant to be given as a gift from one lover to another, so that each time we kiss, it grows.”

You were in awe of Fred. Not only had he managed to get you a gift that was extremely fitting for you, but he got you one that was even more sentimental than you had managed to realize. You were amazed, and you looked up at him awestruck, tears threatening to form in your eyes. 

He chuckled at the sight of you and hugged you close, careful of the flower,

     “Don’t cry!”

     “It’s- it’s just so lovely,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears from your eyes. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

Fred smirked,

     “You’ve made it up to me, the lack of a gift.”

You chuckled,

     “Good.”

     “Er… should we kiss again? For the flower, of course,” Fred suggested, nodding down at the flower. 

     “Yes, of course. For the flower,” you grinned knowingly and leaned in again, your lips uniting in a sweet kiss once more. 

[merci-bitch]

My Sweet Little One part II

Rose The Hat x fem!reader

Warning(s): swearing, slight abuse, PDA? 

Words: 2,5k

A/N: It has been quite a while. Hasn’t it? Haha. Well there might be a part 3 to this. It’s not as long as the first part which is 8k, and I have no idea how to make links so sadly I can’t link it here. ;/ . Hopefully there will more stories coming soon!

I made Y/N mine, alright. And everyone knew it, for sure. The next night she laid in my bed, I made her scream my name until her vocal chords were raw and made sweat crack across her place physiognomy.

No one could have her body the way I do, specially that loathsome rube. But he doesn't matter now.' I told myself. Though I wanted to make him pay. Rip his heart out and eat it on a silver platter after making him after making him suffer. Who the hell does he think he is? Laying his hands on my Y/n. They might both be steamy but he should see me. Oh yes, I am a cathedral compared to his small amount of steam.

"Rosie?" Y/n's voice pulled me out of my self induced trance. "Yes love?" I hummed. "You were zoning off again. Is something the matter?" I loved hearing the sweetness in her voice. It was like music to my ears.

"No darling, I'm quite alright." I smiled and placed my lips against hers and gave her a soft kiss. 'If only she knew though.' I thought to myself but shoved that aside for the moment. I could feel her soft hands gently caressing my bare skin and moved closer to her. Normally I preferred being the big spoon but on this moment, I didn't quite mind. She was home now and has been for quite a few weeks but still, I missed her.

"You're sure?" I nodded and ran my hands through Y/n's hair. "You're so pretty. You know that right?" She nodded and I smirked. "There is no one quite like you." Y/n's cheeks flushed cherry red and I chuckled. "No shame, darling. I only speak the truth."

"I know." She gave me a small smile that made me swell up inside. "Have you thought about my offer?" Y/n let out a sigh and I sat up. "I have but-"

"But what?" I tried my hardest not to sound angry. "When you stabbed me before, you told me it was for steam?" I nodded cordially. "Is that...what you guys eat?"

"Does it matter?" I expected to have her argue with me a little bit but surprisingly she didn't. Which I was thankful for. I took Y/n's hands gently in my own and kissed them. "Look, I know it's hard for you to wrap your head around but their pain is our gain. Don't you want to have a life with me? Unconditional bliss?"

She looked down as she slowly sat up and started fumbling with her hands. I wanted to say things, but I didn't want her to run away again. I didn't want to lose her again. She was mine, and only mine.

—— You don't know what it's like, not knowing who you are. To have lived in the shadows and to have travelled this far. Now I've seen a flashes of fire and echos of screams. But I still have faith, faith that someday my memories will come back.

In my dreams, it's all real. And my heart has so much to reveal. And my dreams seems to say, 'don't be afraid to go on, don't give up hope, come what may.' I know it will all come back! One day!

In my dreams shadows call. There's a light at the end a hall. Then my dreams fade away, but I know it will all come back one day. I just remember, rain against the windows. Sheets upon a bed. Terrifying nurses whispering overhead.

It was all strange. Rose, everyone. They say I was found on the side of the road. It had recently rained. In the darkness and cold with the wind in the trees. A girl with no name, and no memories but these above. I don't know a thing before that. Traveling the back roads, sleeping in the wood. I was always taking what I needed, working when I could. Keeping up my courage, foolish as it seems.

In my dreams I've always dreamed of a city. I dream of a city beyond all compare. Is it Paris? Paris... A beautiful river, a bridge by a scare and I hear a simple voice whisper, 'I'll meet you right there in Paris.' Paris.

Dancing bears, painted wings. Things I almost remember, and a song someone sings. It's almost December. Once upon a December. Someone holds me safe and warm. Horses prance through a silver storm. Figures dancing gracefully and across my memory.

Far away, long ago. Glowing dim as an ember and things my heart used to know and things it yearns to remember. And a song someone used to sing.

Heart don't fail me now and courage don't desert me. Don't turn back now that we're here. People have always said, life is full of choices and they aren't wrong but they never mentioned fear. Or how the world can seem so vast. On a simple journey to the past.

Somewhere down this road. I know someone true is waiting. Years of dreams just can't be wrong! Someone's arms will open wide and I'll be safe and wanted. Finally a place where I belong. Well, starting now I'm learning fast! On my journey to my past.

Home, love and family. There has to be a time where I had them too. I wouldn't be complete until I find you. But always one step at a time. One hope, then another. Who knows where this road may go? I wanna go back to who I was. On to find my future. There are things my heart still needs to know. Yes! Let this be some kind of sign and let this road be mine. Let it lead me to my past, and bring me home. At last!

—

"So, when the fuck was you gonna tell me."

"Hm? Tell you what my dear."

"Cut the sweet act Rose."

"What's wrong with you? Did they tease you again? You want tea?"

"Oh fuck you."

"Watch it."

"Watch it?! You have some fucking nerve Rose."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. The fuck did you think was gonna happen?"

"Seriously, what do you mean Y/N."

"Did you think I was gonna forget your words? Think I was gonna forget how useless and worthless you called me?"

"Y/N, I-"

"Shut it. I know exactly what you said, I'm not stupid or will I ever fall for some cover up you're calling this. I was happy without you!"

"You would never survive without me!"

"I did perfectly well for 10 fucking years Rose!"

"You call that happy?! With that Danny? You call that happy Y/N?"

"He loved me! He took care of me! More then you'd ever done, he took me for what I was. He picked up the pieces you broke."

"You better watch it. I don't mind killing you myself."

"See, this is exactly where you and I are different. I spend years not fitting in but thinking it was fine. Cause you were 'there' and cuddled me. Did you ever really love me? Cause you're blaming me for everything here, when it actually was you who fucked it up."

"I fucked it up?! You were the one who was so fucking ungrateful!"

"Ungrateful?! I have a fucking soul!"

"No, you don't! Cause you fucking sold it to the devil. You're not human. We turned you Y/N!"

"Excuse me what?"

"What?"

"No, don't change subject. What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Did you fucking turn me without me saying you could?! Rose what the fuck!"

"What, you're mine. Just had to claim you. You'll be fine."

"Fine?! I don't wanna feed of dead kids Rosie!"

"They're actually quite delicious."

"You're fucking sick."

"Didn't stop you from fucking me."

"I didn't really have a choice."

"I didn't fucking rape you."

"Nah, it felt like it."

"You screamed my name out of pleasure."

"How come you were so sure of that?"

"I saw it, I saw your mind."

"What if that was just for play?"

"Oh, fuck you."

"I'd kill you if you tried."

"Oh, sweetheart. I'd like to see you try."

"Come at me."

"You can't be serious."

"Come kill me Rose."

"No."

"Coward."

"You're a bitch. A fucking bitch."

"Yet you put up with me for years. Took me back in when I was vulnerable. Loved me, well. Kind of. You held me close to you. Favorited me. So technically, I was your bitch."

"Exactly. You're my bitch."

"I was, not anymore."

"You'll always be my bitch. You're so weak for me, nothing will change that."

"Rose-"

"Begging already? Hm. Get on your knees."

"What?"

"Now!"

"Never."

"Get on your fucking knees before I make you."

"Make me then."

"You're playing with fire Y/N. I fucking hate you."

"Yeah, yeah. We've all heard that. How about something new?"

Before I knew it, her hand was wrapped around my throat. Holding me up in the air. Not a single piece of happiness or softness in her eyes. It was just dark. Her whole face was filled with anger. The veins in her throat showed as she strained. Her jaw clenched. Her hand squeezing harder around my throat. More and more air was ripped from my throat.

"You'll learn your fucking place. You disgraceful little piece of shit."

Her fingernails started to dig into the skin of my neck and my vision started to blacken out. Clawing at her hand. Choking on whatever air that was left in my lungs.

"R-Rosie-"

"Hm? Can't really hear you, my dear."

Her hand tightened even more and I felt my limbs go lump. Everything going dark.

-

"I don't know Abra. She's been gone for so long. She was missing when I came back from the bathroom at the cinema. You haven't seen anything?"

"No, I've been trying. It's like Rose is cutting her off from us."

"I just hope she's alright. She doesn't deserve all this."

"I know, but we'll find her."

—

"Sweetheart? Hey, wake up."

I felt someone slap my cheek. Groaning in pain, moving my head away. Slowly opening my eyes.

"Rose?"

"Yes, I'm right here."

"What happened?"

"My dear child, you passed out. You had a nightmare from sleeping and got up and started crying. Then you just dropped."

"Really? I don't remember."

"Oh, don't worry. I've got you."

Rose put her arms around me and pulled the covers over us, giving my forehead a kiss. I couldn't put my thought to it. Was that really what happened? I shook my head and snuggles close to Rose. Breathing in her scent. Relaxing. Smiling softly and looking up at her.

"What? What are you smiling about."

"Nothing."

"Come on, I can see there's something."

"I just -"

"Yes?"

"I love you, Rosie."

"I love you too Y/N."

—

"Rose? Is this really how it has to go?"

"Yes, my dear. Now come on. Stab her."

"I-I don't know, it's just a child."

"What have I told you before?"

"I-, their pain, our gain."

"That's it. Now come, feed your family."

Rose's hands were on my waist, her nose brushing against the back of my neck. I slowly raised the knife in the air. Feeling a sort of deja vu. Had I done this before? I couldn't have. Despite the child's cries, pleas and begging Rose was right. Their pain was our gain. I had to do this to feed the family. The true knot was my family.

Muttering a soft 'sorry' before stabbing the child. Stabbing it over and over again. Hearing both Rose's and Crow's laughter behind me. I felt angry for some reason, the child in front of me was the beat for my anger. The piece to take out all the unknown anger. Again and again. Until there was nothing left. Dropping the knife, shaking.

"You did so great, look at all that steam! Well last for weeks! If not even months. Good girl."

Rose gave me a wet kiss and stroked my cheek.

"Rosie?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Have I done this before?"

"What? Stabbing a child?"

"Yeah, I got like a deja vu."

"Well, haven't we all wished to kill children?"

Her carefree laughter filled the air. It didn't make any sense, but it had to.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Don't be so sad now, poppet. You did well."

"It just feels weird. I was a child too once."

"We all were. But now we are adults, we are the true knot. We live as more powerful then pathetic rubes. You said so yourself."

"I did?"

"Right you did."

"Oh, I can't remember much."

Rose stroked my cheek again and pulled me against her. Rubbing my back and watched the moonlight with me. It was silent. Was it nice? Was it confusing? Was it awkward?

"I just, this doesn't feel right."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I've been walking, but with my face turned to the sun. This weight on my shoulders. And I feel as if I need to run. I do what I can to please you and the others, I just feel like an outsider."

"This is your home, can't you hear freedom calling? Calling you to stay. Don't you feel it in your bones? You belong here."

"In the morning before the sun starts shining, we gotta start moving again, can I drive with you?"

"Always."

—

"So I'm gonna stand up, and take my people with me. Together we are going to our brand new home. Far across the river. Do you hear freedom calling? Calling you to answer their prayer."

"That's what you got?"

"Yes, it was all I could find out."

"It's not really helpful."

"I know, I don't know what's going on. Before it was so easy to track her."

—

"I go to prepare a place for you."

Rose watched you sleep. She knew it wouldn't be long until your memories would come back. Her and Crow had been talking about what to do with you. She didn't want to kill you. She did love you, but if she had to she would kill you. You were steamy but she didn't know if it was that good. She had only tasted it once, but it was only little bit.

It had tasted like flowers. For some reason each time Rose would think about it. She would feel this, this heavy feeling in her chest. She didn't know what it was. It couldn't be guilt, could it? No. Of course not. Rose The Hat never had guilt. She was a strong a confident woman. Powerful. The queen bitch of castle hell.

Rose O'Hara knew guilt, knee pain and specially weakness. Rose The Hat could never dream of getting on her knees for anyone.

If she had to kill the one thing she loved. She fucking would.

[sisterspooky1013]

You Can Tell Everybody This Is Your Song by SisterSpooky1013

5400 words, Read it here on AO3

2018

“Awe,” Tara moved the salad-laden fork away from her mouth just before taking a bite, bringing her other hand up to press the palm against her chest in an expression of tender feelings. “This is Bill and I’s song, I haven’t heard it in years.”

Scully set her water glass down and strained to hear the tinny notes of “I don’t wanna live without your love” by Chicago escaping from a speaker above their table. Tara and Bill were in town for Maggie’s memorial service and Tara had asked if they could have lunch, just the two of them, before their flight back to San Diego.

“Ah, I think I do remember dancing to this at your wedding,” Scully remarked, keeping to herself that such cheesy ballads caused her eyes to roll involuntarily to the back of her head.

Tara considered her for a moment, taking a bite and then chewing thoughtfully. “Do you and Mulder have a song?” She asked. While the exact nature of their relationship had never been clear to Tara, the fact that he always seemed to be around, or come back around, plus the fact that they were now expecting a child, made the odds of them having a song that held significance relatively high.

Scully took a deep breath and let it out slowly, scanning her memory. “I don’t think we do, technically. There are a lot of songs that make me think of him but I don’t think any are ‘our song’ in the way that most people mean that. I’ll have to ask him when I get home.”

She smiled a little at her own mention of home. She’d only recently moved back in to their unremarkable house, and the process of not only living there again but now preparing a nursery together was making her deliriously happy in a way that she didn’t think she’d ever have the chance to experience again, especially with Mulder.

They finished their meal, Scully got the check, and they parted with hugs and promises of a visit to the West Coast before Scully was too far along to safely fly.

As she drove the 30 minutes back to Farr’s Corner, she thought about whether she and Mulder had a song. How did a song come to be “our song”? Did they have to come to an agreement together on what their song would be, or could she choose her own? There were dozens of songs that made her think of him for various reasons, many of which were painful to listen to during their separation. Perhaps one of these was “their song.”

***

1995

Fade Into You- Mazzy Star

“I look to you and I see nothing

I look to you to see the truth”

She felt profoundly alone, though in a literal sense she wasn’t any more alone than she was every other weeknight. A glass of red wine sat on the coffee table, a fire crackled in the fireplace, and the lights were low as soft music lilted from her stereo. She had been trying to read, but found that she couldn’t concentrate. Mulder had gone off again without bringing her along, or telling her, and (again) had gotten into trouble. She’d gone through every feeling from worry, to fear, to anger, relief when she knew he was okay, back to anger and finally frustration. Each time she thought they’d reached some kind of understanding, when she believed he really trusted her and would keep her in the loop, he pulled a stunt like this again and left her feeling…deserted. Being close to Mulder was like being invited into a sacred space that he didn’t allow anyone else to enter. You felt honored and somehow special to included, but then suddenly he was gone and you were in this unfamiliar place alone. This place you didn’t know how you got into in the first place, and which you now had no idea how to get back out of. So here she was, immersed in a world and a reality that she never would have come to on her own, not sure how to extricate herself, or even if she wanted to.

His gentle knock on the door should have been a surprise to her, but somehow it wasn’t. Sometimes she wondered if he could feel her thinking about him, based on how often her thoughts seemed to manifest him into her living room. Then again, how often wasn’t she thinking about him? She padded to the door quietly in stocking feet and opened it for him, hiding the majority of herself shyly behind the door.

“Hi,” she said with a soft, defeated tone.

“Hey,” he returned, “can I come in?”

She pulled the door open wider and allowed him to enter, then returned to her station on the couch wordlessly. She didn’t offer him anything to drink or ask him to sit, but he sat down anyway, taking a sip from her glass with a nervous set to his shoulders. He leaned back and stared into the fire.

“I know you’re mad at me,” he said to the licking flames, “and you have every right to be. I’m sorry that I…keep doing this.”

“Keep doing what?” She asked rhetorically. Like a misbehaving child, she wanted to see if he even understood what the problem behavior was.

He turned his head to read her expression, which she tried very hard to keep neutral. There would be tears, no yelling; she had finally reached the point of defeat. They held eye contact as the song changed to something slow and sad.

I wanna hold the hand inside you. I wanna take the breath that’s true.

There had been many times they’d locked eyes like this, communicating without words. He could make her stomach do backflips with only a look sometimes, but right now she felt vacant, seeing nothing in his gaze because she simply did not have the energy to try and read him. She felt like Sisyphus, and Mulder was her boulder. She pushed and pushed, never reaching any destination. Never making any progress.

“I’m sorry,” he said again finally, and there was a hitch in his voice. What was that, she wondered? If she didn’t know any better she’d say it was remorse.

“What are you sorry for, Mulder?” She asked flatly.

He shifted so that his body was facing hers, though they were still on opposite ends of the couch. “I know how it must seem…I can…I can imagine how it must feel, when I….”

“When you ditch me,” She completed for him, wanting to be sure he didn’t euphemize it into something other than what it was.

“Yes, when I ditch you. It’s never because I don’t want you there, Scully. It’s never because I don’t want you with me or don’t need your help, because I always do.”

“Okay. Then why do you?” She asked, leaning forward to pluck her now half-empty glass from in front of him and taking a long sip.

He looked at his lap and shook his head. “I don’t know. Well, sometimes I do know. Sometimes it’s because I’m doing something really stupid and I know you’ll try to talk me out of it,” he raised his head to look at her and she bit her lip to stave off the smirk that tugged at her lips. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Other times, I think it’s just…I’ve been alone for so long, Scully, and I don’t think I know how not to be. And generally speaking, no one gives a shit about me or where I am or what I’m doing, and it’s hard to remember that someone does now.” His expression was soft and open, the firelight sparkling against his dilated pupils.

A lump was forming in her throat and she didn’t trust herself to speak. She looked at him and saw someone who was afraid, and lonely, and alone. Not the brazen rogue agent full of bravado that she was angry with.

He scooted closer to her, taking her glass and setting it on the table before he wrapped her hands up in his. His rough palms dwarfed hers, and she resented his ability to make her feel so safe simply by existing near her. “I’m trying, and I’ll keep trying. I’ll try harder. I’ll probably mess up because I’m a selfish asshole, but even when I do I want you to know that it’s never about you. I’m beyond lucky that you put up with my shit, Scully, and even when I do things that make it seem like I don’t care what you think, I need you to know that yours is the only opinion that matters to me. Okay?”

She nodded, her watery eyes trained on his mouth. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck, to burrow into the comfort of this man who took up so much space in her life, but it didn’t feel safe. Not right now.

He stood and went to the door, looking back at her one last time before he pulled it closed behind him. She wanted him to know that they were okay, so she pushed her mouth into a soft smile and she saw him sigh in relief, smiling back at her just before he left.

Fade into you, I think it’s strange you never knew.

Continue reading on AO3

Tagging @today-in-fic

[vinylhazza]

A Lesson Learned (E.D) Part 1.

Summary: Ethan’s job as a teacher is to give his students the best education that he can. But when Y/n, a student that has caught his eye a time or two, catches him by surprise in his classroom during lunch, he’s unable to hold back the fire that was sure to break free at some point. 

Word Count: 8.1k

Warning: Rough sex between student and teacher. You're welcome. 

Ethan wasn't stupid. He knew that the girls in his class snickered and swooned over him from the minute they walk through that classroom door, to the very moment they left. That’s why he had a set of rules. They were simple, but very clear and strongly advised. 1. No consults or help during lunch 2. No help after school, under any circumstances. It was just too risky. It wasn't that he was worried he would slip up, it was just that the girls in his class were very bold with their advancements towards him and he was concerned it would get too out of hand if he allowed them to come in whenever they wanted for “help.” Because help was never really help with them. However; he did give the students an option to come in during a free period, where teachers flittered through the halls and his door was always open. He has yet to see any of the girls take him up on that offer, except maybe one of two that don’t really need the help. 

He had three classes, Seniors, Juniors, and Freshmen. All Composition and Reading. They were all pretty much the same, just a slight curriculum change to make it harder for each grade as he saw fit. The girls in his Senior class were the worst with their flirtatious behavior, so bad sometimes that he’s had to call them out or send them to the principals office - feigning that he’s concerned they won't be able to focus enough in his class because of their small crush. It was a serious problem - some even slipped him their number when handing in their papers or passing notes on purpose during class because they knew he would take them away if they were caught. He’s never used them of course, simply throws them in the trash with a shake of his head. He wasn't meaning to be cocky about it, it just made him a bit nervous and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, some girls still hadn't gotten the memo. 

But he was still surprised when he heard the light tapping on the closed door, small shadows of feet appearing against the tiled floor just outside. He understood that it was nearing the end of the semester and the students might be panicking a bit too hard over their studies, he’s been there a time or two during high school and college. But his rules were set in place for a reason. He figured it was better to make the rule for everyone rather than show “favorites”. He knew some of the students would probably love the extra study time, but he just couldn't take the chance. The lunch rule wasn't even his decision quite frankly, it was also a school rule that you must reside in either the lunch room, football field, or atrium during lunch hours - no sneaking off on your own agenda without a valid reason. Coming to his classroom wasn't really a valid reason. Yes, some students slipped past the radar, but it wasn't often. Girls were sneaky, and being one of the only males in an all girls school, he started to learn their little tricks. 

He sat still behind his desk, eyes glued to the stand still shadow behind the aquatex glass window of the door. A frown stretched across his face as he wondered who it could be, the place was normally deserted and quiet during lunch break - a good 45-60 minutes of absolute silence. Depended on the day.  He wondered briefly who it was and what they wanted. Even though the knock was quiet, it nearly scared him - that’s how unusual sound was at this time of day. He was sure he could blast his music as loud as he could and no one would be able to hear. He didn’t of course, it would disrupt his concentration. 

It bothered Ethan sometimes that he had such a close eye on him at all times. Just because he was young, with a tall, sturdy frame, thick hair, strong jawline, plump pink lips, and a naturally prominent bulge that he couldn't hide no matter how hard he tried. There were always eyes watching his every move. No, he wasn't the type to flaunt his sex appeal. He didn't like that he was watched like a hawk because he was “hot”. He knew he was watched, knew the women lusted after him, but he kept himself in check. He also knew he was attractive, confident, and had a charm that could sway any girl to be on their knees within seconds. He’d used it quite a few times in college. But as far as he was concerned, he was at the school to teach Composition and Reading - not to stare at girls in their tiny skirts or at their shirts that they refused to button the way they should. He wasn't here for that, plus half of the girls were underage anyway. That and it was just simply wrong. Strictly against the rules. 

And it wasn't just the students that would throw themselves at him - but the female staff as well. That made the eyes on him even heavier, as if someone higher up was just waiting for him to slip up, take the bait and get himself into a mess he’s sure he’d never get out of. Because of the close watch on him, he would try and escape from the prying eyes of his co-workers during his lunch break just to sit by himself and get much needed work done that he might not have time for at home or during the day. He liked that this was his alone time without anyone bothering his concentration. He actually thought it was one of the crucial parts of his school day. 

He got enough sex to satisfy his needs elsewhere anyhow, not much, but enough. It slowed down after he had a small fling with a female teacher when he first arrived at the school - but it ended as quickly as it started. He fucked her twice and then she turned obsessive and he had to end it in the kindest way he could. He didn't have the energy for the “coworker against coworker” fiasco that would surely start if the word got out that he rejected her after they’d had sex. It would sound dishonorable to everyone that didn't understand the situation. But other than that, it was women he took interest in that were friends of friends, even some women he’s hooked up with before. It wasn't like when he was in college - he was kind of a sex crazy beast in his younger years. That hasn't changed, he just didn't have as much opportunity. Though since he wasn't really meeting anyone at school, he wasn't making it a point to go and find a random female to fuck. Just wasn't his forte. But he liked to believe he got enough. Enough to keep him from going insane. 

He sighed softly, not all that happy about being interrupted, but not wanting to ignore whoever it was and be rude. He set his blue inked pen down, stopped the soft music playing from his phone, and pushed the hair back on his head neatly. He noticed that on many occasions it gets quite frazzled from him tugging on it when he was bored or frustrated. He wondered for a moment if it was just another teacher wanting to come and sit with him for some company, but that didn't sound appealing for him if he’s honest. He wanted to be alone and most of the teachers knew that. He cleared his throat, just to assure the person who was waiting that he was inside, before he finally spoke out calmly, but with enough volume that whoever it was could hear him, “Come in.” 

The door opened slowly, slowly enough that he just knew it wasn't a teacher. Teachers opened the door with purpose, not a hint of shyness in sight. Students were always the ones that opened the door like it weighed 100 pounds. That thought in mind, he wasn't really surprised that he was right. But he was surprised to see the familiar face of one of his best students. He recognized her beautiful face immediately as she appeared slowly from behind the door. Blushing cheeks and all. 

She stood almost nervous with her snug white blouse and grey plaid skirt. A dull outfit for such a bright girl. But it wasn't her fault she had to wear a uniform. He knew what the girls had to wear and he knew she was a little older than the rest of the girls in her class. She was in his Senior class he remembered. She was ravishing. Utterly fucking gorgeous and he couldn't deny it. Ethan tried his hardest not to look down her body. But he found himself holding back more than he thought was normal. She was normally very shy, sat in the back, had her head low during class, fiddled with her pen a lot. She had cute quirks that he caught onto early in the year. She was always the first to hand in her paper, and it was always excellent, had neat handwriting and wonderful thoughts - but she refused to participate in class discussions. He never thought anything of her silence, so he thought it was strange that she would come to his class unannounced and during a time she wasn't allowed. He knew she knew the rules that had been set in place for all four years and even before that. 

She took a step inside the room, hands toying with the white bottom button of her blouse. A small smile rushed to her face at the sight of his eyes lingering on her patiently. 

“Can I help you?” He ushered her forward, earning him a small nod and the view of her turning around the shut the door softly behind her. He took note that she twisted the lock quickly, secretively. His eyes flickered with confusion at her actions, but he shook his head to rid the look before she turned back around and took a step closer to him with a nervous huff from her rosy lips. If he looked closer, he might see her visibly shaking. 

“You know I don’t usually offer help during lunch,” he explained, knowing she knew, but making it clear that she was breaking the rules. He felt bad for a moment that he sounded so harsh and cold. He was unsure why she was even here, she was the top of her class - she’d always had a steady A in the class - and every other class he’s sure. Surely she didn't really need the help. 

“I know Mr. Dolan I’m sorry, I just need a little bit of help,” she finally spoke, doe eyes blinking a few times at him, showing off her long lashes. He saw that her pupils were dilated but chose to ignore it. He didn't want to make any assumptions that weren't true. 

“You can come back 5th hour if you’d like, I don't really have the time during lunch...Y/n right?” He pondered, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest while he stared her down. God she was beautiful. 

“Uh yeah.” A sweet smile makes it’s way to her face, along with a pinky blush. She rocks back and forth on her heels, a nervous habit he’s noticed a few times this year.  She doesn't ask many questions, but when she does she always falls into that habit. She just never knew what to do with herself when it came to him. 

“Well, Y/n just come back in a few hours with any questions you have and we can go from there, sound good?” The way she’s making his heart race is making him sweat, his hand coming up to loosen the tie from around his neck. He felt like he might choke if she kept batting her eyelashes at him like that. 

“You don’t even have a second to listen?” she simpered, dipping her head to the side and giving him her best puppy dog eyes. There was a glimmer in her eyes he hadn't ever seen before, it had him clearing his throat once more. He really wanted to cut her some slack, just feeling the nerves radiating off of her was making him nervous now. The way she’d said it made it seem like she came to talk to him about a personal problem, and that alone had him tensing up from his neck to his shoulders. He’s not really all that good with personal problems, hell he’s not even good with his own. Plus if this is true, he doesn't know why in the hell she would go to him and not any of the many female teachers in the building who were far more equipped to help. 

“I really don't mean to be bothering you, I can see your really busy. I’m just kind of nervous about my grades and with finals coming up I’m getting in my head about all of the work...” she carries on, resulting to chewing on her bottom lip to ease the nerves coursing through her. 

“There’s really nothing to worry about, Y/n. You’ve always excelled in this class and I’m sure the final won’t be any different. I can assure you that you’ll find it easy. I can give you extra study material if you’d like, just to freshen up.” He really was trying to pacify her, not knowing exactly what to say to someone that was so nervous about a class that was clearly so easy for them. Not only that but she kept chewing on her fucking lip and it was driving him mad. She wouldn't even meet his eyes, seemingly making it worse for him. 

“Honestly...that’s not really my problem,” she admitted with a sigh while she stepped the tiniest bit closer, noticing his eyes flicker down to where her silky smooth thighs rubbed together while she walked, “I kind of need some personal advice, sir. It’ll only take a second.”

The look she was giving him from under her long lashes was void of any of the shyness he’d seen moments before, no. This time he could see something devious and lustful pooling in her dilated pupils. She watched him closely as a look of confusion took over his handsome features once again. He chose to ignore the fact that she was now standing directly in front of his desk, keeping his eyes trained solely on her face and nowhere else. 

“I think a female teacher would be better fit to counsel you with a personal problem, miss Y/l/n. I’m afraid I wouldn't be too much help,” he smiled softly at her, eyes full of sympathy. So handsome. “But I do advise you to get back to lunch before an administrator finds you in here. I don’t think they’d be too happy about seeing a student roaming the halls when it’s such a nice day outside.” 

“Sir, I don't think you understand,” she rushes, “I really need your help. I came to you for a reason.” 

He watches her tongue dart out and wet her lips quickly, but he noticed nonetheless. He notices a lot of the things she does. 

“Is it serious? If it’s serious you should see the principal. But you really should get back to lunch, Y/n,” he urges on before she has a chance to answer, “You may come back 5th hour if you’d like. I’ll have more time to talk. But it’s best if you get back to your friends.” He’s nervous about how close her body is, breath turning shallow from the sweet smell of her perfume. 

Her brows dip down as she huffs, frustrated that he’s not catching onto her obvious flirting - and if he is, that he’s not giving her anything to work with. Ethan sits upright just as she rounds his desk, the toe of her shoe pressing against the wheel to roll the chair back further. He stays still, staring up at her looming frame over him, too shocked to do anything else. If he was expecting anything from her, it definitely wasn't that. He feels the soft tips of her hair rubbing against his cheekbone just as she swings her leg over his exposed lap, fitting to him snug. She’s straddling him, clothed core pressed right up against his bulge. Her skirt was bunched up over her thighs, smooth skin exposed for him to touch if he wished. 

“You see the thing is...none of the female teachers have what I want...what I need,” she whispers, staring into his hazel eyes that gawk at her twirling his tie between her fingers. Her tone is suggestive, seductive, everything it shouldn't be towards her teacher. 

“Miss Y/l/n, this is extremely inappropriate,” he grunts, wanting to push her off of his lap in shock, but instead raising his hands so he’s not touching her at all. If someone tries to come in he doesn't want them to see his hands even near her body that fits with his so...perfectly. No he needs to focus. 

“I’m just really stressed and anxious sir,” she whispers again, running her hands down his front and noticing how firm he was beneath the material of his dress shirt. She sighs as her pussy clenches at the thought of what resides beneath, “I haven't had sex in months which is far too long. I just need to be fucked right.” 

“Y/n get off. This is against the rules and you shouldn't be here,” he spoke sternly, as much as he could through his voice shaking. He expected her to look hurt, maybe even offended at him rejecting her in such an embarrassing way, but he only saw a smirk. 

“Mr. Dolan I need a man,” she hummed, “a man that will fuck me nice and hard. I need you Mr. Dolan. I need you to fuck me.” She popped her lip out into a pout, still running her hands up and down his chest until she hooked her arms around his neck and leaned in close to his lips. If he just leaned forward a bit they would be kissing. 

He really didn't expect for this normally quiet and shy girl on top of him to be so bold. He had never seen her like this and never thought in a million years these words would be tumbling from her mouth. He gasps quickly when she reaches down to tug at his belt buckle, staring down with a hungry look on her face, eye fucking him. 

This had never happened before and he wasn't really sure what to do. Normally the advances from the girls were subtle and harmless, but this was...this was dangerous in many ways. To say his morals were floating around in his head in a jumbled mess because he can feel the heat from her pussy against his dick is an understatement. He wanted it but he didn't want to want it. He grabbed onto her wrist in an attempt to stop her, watching her pout return to her face at the fact that he tried to stop her. 

“I’m well aware of your intentions Y/n. But this is wrong. I will not have sex with a student. No if, ands, or buts. Now leave and I promise we won’t ever have to talk about it again. I won’t tell anyone about this.” He meant it too. He didn't want a single person knowing that his student was sitting pretty on his lap in her...sexy uniform that wouldn't be sexy on anyone else but her if he’s being honest, “But I want you to get off my lap right now.” 

She sat for a moment, just staring at him to gauge his reaction before she slowly let go of his belt, looking as if she’d admitted defeat. “Okay...I’m sorry I broke the rules, sir.” But just as it had before, that same sensual grin came onto her face, sending a nice thumping from his heart through his chest once again as she said, “I’m so sorry that I've been a bad girl.” 

She slid her hips forward and back again repeatedly, not stopping even when his breathing stopped short and she felt his heart beating rapidly beneath her fingertips. She grabbed into the collar of his shirt, using it for something to hold onto as she rolled her hips into his, making it unbearable for him to stay in line. He watched in awe while she untucked her shirt from the waistband of her skirt, pulling it out and slowly undoing the buttons, one by one until she revealed the soft pink of her bra and the curves of her hips. She was breathtaking and he couldn't deny that if he wanted to. She pushed her core harder against his slacks, loving the pressure it put against her clit. His eyes traveled down the expanse of her body to where their hips met, feeling like he might pass out if she doesn't stop now. 

If he’s honest, he’s wanted this for quite some time. She’s just...something else. He’s caught himself staring at her longer than he should in lectures and she doesn't know it but he can see right up her skirt when she sits at her desk, his eyes drifting down far too often from his own desk. But he would never imagine himself acting on anything. The consequences that would follow if anyone ever caught him kissing her like he desired to, were scary to say the least. But he wanted to so bad. That thought had him gulping while he looked at her all spread out on his lap and grinding herself against him. Her head was resting against her shoulder, a blissed out look on her face while she rolled over his clothed dick, the skin of her thighs causing a rubbing sound that he didn't mind much. 

He was suddenly happy for a split second that she locked the door, even though he knew someone would be able to see the shadow through the glass window if they looked hard enough. He also know that the administrators and janitors had a key to his door and would surely use it if they had any indication something insubordinate was going on inside. It had him all jittery the think that someone could catch them even if he hasn't touched her...yet. He hated the fact that he was tempted, he was so tempted to fuck her senseless that it almost killed him to not have his hands dipping into her sides and roll her harder against him. 

His cheeks were heating up fast by the quiet moan that emits from her lips, soft and angelic. He knows that if he lets it slide they will only get louder and he doesn't want a single soul to hear. He knows that the building is deserted, but just the thought of someone hearing her sounds is terrifying and sends a panic through him, causing a hand to fly up and cover her mouth, the other to wrap around her throat lightly. It was the first time he’s touched her and he felt like his hands were on fire just by touching her skin. He was going to hell. 

She stared at him over his hands, breathing out through her nose and waiting for him to explain why he’d shushed her so frantically. He looks mad. And he is. He’s fucking pissed off that he wants her so bad and that he’s so hard beneath her he’s worried he’s leaking precum. He’s mad that she’s put him in a position that has his brain so out of order that he can't think of anything else but ramming his dick into her against his desk. He’s mad that he’s never wanted to fuck someone so bad in his life and he’s mad that she has to be his student. He’s mad because he wants her, and not just right now, but always and it’s driving him crazy. 

“Don’t you realize what will happen if I fuck you, Y/n? Do you fucking know?” He seethed, a hand reaching to grip at her ass deliciously, leaving a smack against the flesh and feeling it jiggle in his hands. She jumps away from his hand against her mouth from the contact, surprised that he made such a risky move when he’s been frozen like a statue the whole time. 

“You’ll cum...I’ll cum...we’ll have mind blowing sex,” she answers calmly, so sure it makes him more mad because he’s certain she’s right. 

“Wrong. I’ll get fired. I will be out on my ass before I can even blink,” he snapped, “I will lose everything. We will both be in a fuck ton of trouble, including you...then you’ll really be stressed won’t you kitten?” he hums, a smirk plastered onto his face as he leans in to ghost his lips over her own, testing the line before stepping over it. She’s pouting agains, wanting him to kiss her and show her what he’s really thinking because this denial is bullshit and she can tell he wants it. She can tell from his hard-on that’s pressing against her right now. 

She nods, not wanting him to deny her but still understanding why he’s so scared to want it. But Ethan takes her by surprise when he places both hands under her ass and lifts her up like a feather. She clutches his biceps tightly from his sudden movements, clinging onto him just until he sets her on the edge of his desk. He had one hand buried in her hair, making a fist and pulling. 

“So I’m gonna need you to keep that pretty mouth closed okay?” he growled, sinister glare set straight into her eyes. He was serious. No games here. He was holding back a smile at the giggle she let out next, overjoyed when he spread her legs wider. She’s keeping herself up on her elbows, grinning up at his handsome face, tempted to pull him down by his tie for a kiss. But he still hasn't gotten an answer. 

He grips her chin angrily, making sure she’s looking right into his hazel eyes, “Am I understood?” So stern. She knew that he was trying to assert himself, make sure she knew he was in the position of power. But he had nothing to worry about when it came to her, that’s all she wants right now. To have him take control and use her in the best way. 

“Yeah, daddy,” she simpered once again, a tiny pout on her face. He could feel the blood rushing to his cock in an instant. He’s never been called that before but something about the way she said it had him addicted already, “I promise I’ll keep you a secret, I promise I won’t tell,” she carried on, dragging a finger across his sharp jawline, leaning up just enough to leave a peck against the skin of his neck. When she leaned back, she was biting her bottom lip again. 

He couldn't think about how wrong this was. He couldn't think about the fact that he was possibly taking advantage of her when he was adult and was the one responsible for saying no. So instead of thinking he pulled her to the edge of the desk, tugging harshly on her plaid skirt. She sat in her matching baby pink panties, so delicate for such a dirty girl. He took the time to dip his hand down, cupping her heat and rubbing slowly, torturing her like she’d tortured him for so long. He only toyed with her for a moment longer before ripping her bra off, panties off as well, he groaned from deep in his chest as the sight of her dripping core. 

He wanted to take it slow, feel every curve of her body, every inch of her skin - but considering his compromising position he needed to make it fast. He couldn't waste time. He needed to fuck her hard and fast like she wanted and get it out of his system because it’s eating him alive. He didn't have the time to caress her and kiss her tenderly. He just couldn't take the time right now. The thought of someone coming to knock on the door while he had her splayed out wide and wet on his desk was something that chilled him to the bone. 

He paused for just a second so that the rapid thoughts in his head could quiet down and let him focus: What if she’s underage? What if someone comes? This is so wrong. You’re gonna get fired. But how could he ever say no?

Instead of getting lost in his thoughts and overthinking the entire situation, he chose not to think at all - let his instincts take in. He quickly grasped the cold metal of his belt buckle, peeling it from his belt loops on his slacks and pushing them all the way down his legs and to the side. He watched her gazing at him dreamily, so focused on his large hands pulling his massive length out for her to see, sitting so deliciously in his palm. She licked her lips when she noticed the tip was the same reddish pink as his freshly kissed lips. He tossed his underwear into the pile of clothes on the floor beside the desk, forgotten. He leaned over her, taking another second to land his lips on hers once again, tasting her chapstick and feeling his heart warm at the way she leans back up when he tries to pull away, sighing into his mouth. 

When he breaks free he’s grabbing at himself to rub the head of his cock up and down her wet opening. Ethan teased her slowly, tapping at her clit just to hear her gasp and jump beneath his touch. She clenches with a wince when he tries to push in slowly, never has she been with anyone this big and she hope he understood from the whimper that slipped out. He gave her a soft smile, rubbing his hand over her soft thigh in understanding, making sure that when he tries again he takes his time. 

He has to stop halfway, throwing his head back from the way she grips him so tight, overwhelmed. Y/n grips his arms, bracing herself for him to sink all the way inside of her. He captures her lips with his own as he rammed his cock into her time and time again, relishing in the warm tight wetness of her pussy that he’s not stopped thinking about since she unknowingly opened her legs from beneath her desk months ago and he caught sight of heaven on earth. His hips met hers with a harsh smack, loud enough to be heard from outside the door, but a delicious sound to his ears anyway. Ethan was over the moon, buried deep into the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, who happened to be none other than his student. He breathed hard when his gaze went from her bright eyes down to her chest that rose and fell rapidly, down to where he disappeared inside of her heat. 

Y/n couldn't hardly breathe just looking at his body so firm above her, tie swinging with every thrust of his hips, buttons undone at the top of his shirt. She was tempted to shut her eyes simply from the pleasure and euphoria that took over her every nerve, but refrained when she saw the blissed out look on his face she’d only ever seen in her dreams. 

She had envisioned this exact moment so many times within her daydreams, scribbling mindlessly while she watched him talk about nonsense in front of the class, scanning her eyes over his front the best that she could when he wasn't looking. It was maddening to want his cock so bad. She’d dreamt about being fucked against this very desk. She’d woken up in a sweaty gasping frenzy from the vivid image of what she is seeing right now. But this time it was real and she was being fucked on his desk. The grunts and groans emitting from his mouth weren't a figment of her imagination any longer. He was ramming into her shaking body so hard that the pens near her head were knocked to the floor with a clatter, binders falling, papers flicking off the wood and to the ground silently. But he paid no attention to the racket, only her loud breathing and gushing sounds coming from where he did his best to ruin her. 

A spark of anger arose from deep within his chest when he looks up to find her grinning at him, a gloating sneaky little glare that reads “you love this and you know it.” It made him angry because she did this, she walked in here everyday in her short she knew was too short, she came and sought him out, made him weak, made him want her. With an angry “fuck” Ethan’s wrapping one hand around her throat - not too tight, but tight enough to make a point and grumbling low, “You knew what you were doing didn't you?” 

She grabs at his wrist, hand fumbling with his fingers for a second, just feeling at them lightly with a smile, nodding her head and batting her eyelashes. She could feel her thighs shaking and tightening around his waist, her heels pushing into his thighs to push him into her harder. 

“Such a fucking slut...is this what you wanted?” he continues to growl from within his throat, hard staring her with dark, lust-filled eyes. 

“Y-yes,” she gasped, a strangled sound coming from her throat from the pressure of his hand around her airway, “fuck me harder daddy please. Love it so much.” 

Ethan had become hot and sweaty quickly, a patch forming on the front of his shirt from where he’d soaked through, enough to have him yanking at his tie and hastily removing it from around his neck. He suddenly felt very large in a shirt that normally fits so well, but then again he was never pushing against the buttons and railing a beautiful girl into his desk, so that might be a factor to think about. 

“Fuckin’ hot in here,” he grumbled to himself as he unbuttoned his blazer all the way down, feeling the cool air touch his chest for the first time and sighing at how good it felt. He still hasn't stilled his hips, his rhythm even and steady. It impressed her that he had a will to keep going to matter what and she just knew that even if someone did knock on that door - he wouldn't stop. He would finish what he started. But looking at his bare torso that showed under the unbuttoned shirt still had her breathless and swooning. She hadn't expected him to take his clothes off, too worried about how fast he needed to be for obvious reasons. But she wasn't complaining by any means. 

The slither of tan skin that she could see had her whimpering and throwing her head back on the desk, nails reaching beneath the flailing fabric to rake her nails down the smooth surface - over every bump and ridge. She forced herself to open her eyes and appreciate the way his abs flexed with every thrust into her, the way his eyebrows were drawn down in concentration, the way he bit at his bottom lip and watched her closely. She hardly expected him to grip at the back of her neck to pull her up just enough to bury his face in the skin of her neck - kissing fiercely. His teeth dug in in the most delicious way, sucking on the sore spots and admiring the dark purple that was left behind from his assault. They would be nearly impossible to cover, and that made him proud. With a grin he gripped her hips tight, ramming himself into her harder still, chuckling at the bright red of her skin from his hips pounding into her own. If she wanted rough, rough was what she was going to get. 

“Yessss daddy right there right there right there-” she screeched so loud he was sure the entire city would be able to hear. But he didn't have the heart to stop her. He craved to hear that desperate howl, frantic and scared he was going to stop hitting that sweet spot that drove her to madness. Well, he wouldn't dream of it. 

“You like that spot kitten? Hm? Right here?” he mocked, pushing a hand down on her tummy and driving into her deep, stilling before pulling out all the way, and slamming right back in. 

She whimpered pathetically, throwing her head back and trying to crawl away from how deep he was. She’s sure that if she didn't want to look tough, she would be crying right now. But she just wanted to be good for him.

When he offered two fingers for her to suck on, she greedily opened her mouth, tongue out, flicking around the digits while they settled against the flesh. Her eyes trained on his own menacing hazel ones while she sucked, letting him gag her if he pleased, adoring the way she felt so full in not one but two places. The tears brimmed in her eyes while he pushed his fingers to the back of her throat, fucking her mouth with his hand and loving the gagging sound she gave him. 

“God look at you taking me so well...sucking daddy’s fingers like the good girl you are...so pretty,” he whispered, almost to himself with how low the volume of his voice was. But she heard, and it still made her feel good. The ball inside of her started to grow bigger the more he pushed into her, the harder he pounding, the more he gagged her, the more he praised and degraded her all at once. It was all too much and if he kept going she would have no choice but to let the fire consume her. 

She bucked her hip up, taking notice of the sound of crumpling paper underneath her and giggling when she remembered it was probably papers he was grading from before. If only they knew. If only they could see the way their teacher fucked her raw and wild on his desk, fingers dipping into her skin, groaning low and dark into her ear, smashing his lips against hers like he really meant it. Did he really mean it? If only they could know that the crumple of the papers he was going to hand back would be from their sexual escapade happening right now. It all made her head spin in the best way. 

Her screaming only rose in volume, his eyes widening and a hand rising to cover her opened mouth. He gave her a brilliant smile, but a warning still lingered in his eyes that looked down on her. “Shhh baby,” he shushed her, feeling her giggle behind his hand, her eyes shining at him innocently. But he knew so much different. He pulled his hand away only to lift her from the desk once more, shuffling her weight up his body, loving the way she fit him so perfectly. He held her in his arms, her own circling around his neck and kissing at his cheekbones lovingly. 

Ethan was still buried to the hilt, so deep in her pussy, so warm. He took her ass into his hands and bounced her up and down on his muscular body, smacking her body down onto his own and sucking at her nipples while she moaned repeatedly above him. 

Y/n hooks her ankles behind his waist, bucking her hips against his because she just couldn't get enough. He was addicting. She adored the way he gazed at her, sucked at her tits, treated her pussy like gold, kissed her like there was this passion he’s waited to set free for so long, adored the way he did a complete 180 from a professional that was scared to let loose, to a fuck machine that broke her apart with his dick. She moaned hungrily while she looked down at him suckling on her left breast, her bud rolling against his skilled tongue. She wondered for a moment what it would feel like on her pussy, wondered if it’s everything she imagined it would be. She had no doubts she was right. 

“How do I feel baby? Is daddy doing a good job?” he growls, looking for the reassurance he honestly didn't need. He knew he was doing amazing by the shaking in her thighs in his hands. But he still wanted to hear her filthy little mouth say it. 

“So good daddy, doing so good,” she emphasized every word, whimpering and moaning and gasping like a complete mess that she is. She would be okay if she finished like this, with him holding her like she doesn't weigh a pound, ramming her down onto his cock hard and fast and unbelievably easy. And she nearly complains when he starts to back up and tumble into the desk chair. It rolls slightly under the pairs weight. 

He wraps her lips within a tender kiss once again, breaking free with a sharp intake. “Ride me kitten,” he grunted, continuing to kneed the flesh of her ass in his hands. He doesn't know why he’s doing it, but he knows he likes doing it. And he knows she likes him doing it by the content smile stretched across her face. 

She nodded at his demand, situating herself against his lap to find leverage before she started to bounce with purpose. 

She continued to sink down, wiggling her hips just to tease him when she felt the small tickle of the tuft of hair near his belly button. She was clenching, grinding, genuinely throwing it back on him in a way he’s never seen before, and he doesn't think after this he’ll be able to keep himself in check. 

She moaned in his ear just by the feeling of his large hands caressing up her back and down to her ass to leave a harsh slap, surely leaving a lovely red splotch behind. He found the strength to raise his head from her tits, tightening his grip on her ass and moaning softly at how good she felt, “Such a good girl for me. Ride my fuckin dick, yeah that’s it. Make me cum, baby. Be good and make daddy proud of you. Make me cum.” 

Ethan could feel his orgasm coming in strong, racing through him fast. He sat back in the chair, closing his eyes and really feeling all of her walls contract around his shaft and hug him so tight. He breathed out hard through his nose, trying to decide whether he would have the strength to hold it if he opened his eyes again. 

Y/n grinned at his struggle, bouncing faster and faster, moaning louder and longer. His jaw clenched with every swear word that tumbled from her rosy lips, reminding her of just how handsome he was. When she let go around him, her juices spraying out against the tan skin of his thighs, he thought he might lose it at the sight. She was writhing and dragging her nails down his arms, scratching at his skin. 

“Fuuuckkkkk oh my fucking God that’s so...oh my fucking God right there,” she screeching louder than ever before, shocked that she hasn't felt him release into her yet. 

The heat that had just erupted inside of her was unlike anything she’d felt before. Certainly one of the hardest if not the best orgasms she’s ever had.  He gave her a cocky grin when he smacked his hand down onto her ass one final time before lifting her away. He couldn't risk cumming in her and her not be on birth control considering he hadn't used a condom for obvious reasons.

 “Get on your knees,” he ordered her hotly, voice low and stern. She dropped to the ground with wobbly knees and a racing heart, her pussy clenching around nothing in particular now that she was empty. She still felt herself dripping in arousal against the floor beneath her, knowing she will most likely have to go home and change after this and feign illness. The soreness in her limbs already tells her walking won’t be the best option for the rest of the day.

 She took him gently into her hand, wrapping her plump lips around his swollen head to suckle and kiss it gently. She wanted to drive him crazy, wanted him to look at her with pleading eyes and a panic in him that she won’t let him cum. When she removes her lips, she receives that very same look, begging without actually saying a word. So licks up the underside of him, a slow, hot stroke of her tongue. Messy and filled with saliva. He watched her carefully, resting a hand within her hair as she enveloped him in her wet mouth. He thought he might pass out when she pushed him all the way inside her mouth, deepthroating him with tears forming at the corner of her eyes. She took it like she was forced, even though he had simply rested his head back and let her work at him. It was all too much. She started to pump what she didn't have in her mouth, feeling him twitch against her tongue and buck his hips up randomly, gagging her. 

“Y/n I’m gonna-” he’s cut short with a long breath from his nose, clenching his jaw tight while he finished down her throat in long hot spurts. She was clenching her eyes shut and taking it like the good girl she was, swallowing every drop he gave her. It surprised her that it was sweeter than she thought, all thoughts of the liquid being bitter now gone. He continued to groan above her, sensitive and wincing from her hand that kept pumping him. She knew he was completely finished, she removed him from her mouth with a pop and an angelic smile, kissing his tip one last time. 

He was frozen in his chair, frozen and shocked and fucked out and scared. Scared because he’s never cum that hard in his life ever. Shocked because he didn't want her to go. Frozen because she was rising her feet already, giggling while she gathered her clothing from the ground and got dressed in quick motions. He couldn't even find it in himself to move from how hard he’d just orgasmed. 

He watched her calmly, arms dangling over the arms of the chair, limp and lifeless, dick laying against his belly. He smiled softly when she leaned down to leave a breathless kiss on his lips, then his cheek, then his jaw while she held his face gently. “Thank you daddy,” she whispered, kissing his jaw just one more time before she leaned back to send him a wink, “I promise I won’t tell.” 

Ethan sat still while she pulled her panties up her legs, then her skirt, before buttoning her blouse and tucking it in to try and look the same as she did when she walked through the door. His head spun at the swivel of her hips as she tugged up the skirt, knowing if he had more time he’d fuck her again. She grabbed her bag from the floor, swung it over her shoulder and looked back at him with a grin, raising her hand to wave at him just as she opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, leaving him alone. The door closed with a click, normally it was quiet, but now that the moans and slapping of skin were absent, it sounded deafening. 

He looked across his destroyed desk, papers strewn every which direction, pens on the floor, papers wet from her juices, seeing it in a totally new light than he had moments before. He scooped the pens from the ground, then the runaway papers, then his clothing that he had ripped from his body in a moment of weakness. That’s what it was right? A moment of absolute weakness that can never ever happen again. 

It was just a moment that will be erased in history, never spoken about. He tried cleaning his desk up as neatly as possible, trying not to worry about the fact that he was naked, that is, until the bell rang and panic set in. 

He fucked a student. He actually fucked her. He didn't just have sex with her but he fucked her. He’s naked right now, in his classroom, cleaning up the desk that he fucked her on. He’s going to have to teach after this. He’s going to have to care about teaching her classmates after this. He’s going to have to think of her pussy now when he jerks off. He’s going to have to try and forget the way she just rode him in his chair like a dirty little slut. He’s going to have to try and forget the way she’d called him daddy. He’s going to have to forget that he wants to do it again.

 “Fuck.” 

tags: @dolandolll​ @stayalivw​ 

[kittinoir]

Phantoms Ch. 15

Read on Ao3

Adrien had thought he’d feel angry. He’d thought that all-consuming rage would devour him whole and he’d never find his way out of it. He’d thought he would come apart from the force of it all. 

But sitting there now, his father in a prison jumpsuit on the other side of the plexiglass, all he felt was numb. That rage had been snuffed out, and a desert had been left in its wake, devoid of any signs of life.

He’d lost his father a long time ago. The only thing that had changed was where Gabriel slept.

“How is she, Adrien?” Gabriel demanded. His hand was pressed against the glass, as though he might press through it and shake the answers out of his son. “Tell me she still lives.”

“I didn’t come here to discuss my mother with you,” Adrien said. His voice was so cold it might have frosted the pane between them. 

The truth, however, was yes - Emilie Agreste lived, if you could call breathing with the help of a ventilator in a private suite at Pitié-Salpêtrière living. She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She didn’t wake. But she lived.

Adrien wasn’t about to tell his father any of it though. Maybe it was petty, maybe he wanted to punish Gabriel just a little bit more, but he didn’t care. His father had no right to any of them. Not anymore. 

“Then what did you come for?” Gabriel asked as he leaned back in his chair. “To finally have your say?”

As if he were worth the breath it would take.

That’s what Adrien keep telling himself, anyway. It’s what Marinette would have said, but it was harder to keep the tirade back than he’d thought it’d be.

“Who was using the peacock Miraculous?”

Gabriel just stared at him - and then laughed.

“That’s why you came here?” he asked, leaning on his side of the table.

“I have no other reason to be here,” Adrien said. 

But Gabriel just chuckled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Adrien hid his frustration. He’d known it was a waste of time. At least, he thought he’d known that. But he was still here, wasn’t he? He didn’t know why he expected honesty. As far as he could tell, Gabriel hadn’t been honest with him a day in his life.

It didn’t matter. He’d said the last thing he needed to to the man who had raised him. He was ready to end this chapter.

“How could you?”

The words were out of Adrien’s mouth before he even really made the decision to say them. They hung in the dead air between them. Then Gabriel’s mouth became a hard line.

“There is nothing on this earth I wouldn’t have done to save her,” Gabriel said. “Nothing.”

Adrien shook his head. “She wouldn’t have wanted this. 

“That’s irrelevant,” Gabriel said. And that told Adrien everything he needed to know.

“Good bye.” Adrien hung up the phone. He saw his father say something else, lean back into the window, but Adrien stood and turned his back on him. 

“Thank you,” he said to the guards as he left. They nodded as he passed, their faces expressionless. If they’d overheard his conversation, they hadn’t cared. No doubt prison officials were already pouring over the recordings, but nothing had been said that would hold any weight. True, there hadn’t been a single akuma attack since Gabriel had been arrested, but circumstantial evidence wouldn’t be enough.

It would be a trial like no other, that was for sure. Would French law even apply where magic was involved? No one had died. No permanent damage had been done, at least to the average Parisian.

It was a headache Adrien wasn’t ready to deal with. At least not yet.

He flipped the hood of his sweater up and slipped on some sunglasses as he was led out the backdoor of the prison. Paparazzi had staked out the building, waiting for either him or Gabriel to be spotted - or one of Paris’s many heroes. At least his father’s fortune was good for covert comings and goings. It helped that he’d ditched the car. True, a sweater and sunglasses were hardly the disguise Chat Noir would be, but it was enough. 

Adrien paused halfway down the block from the prison as he came level with a billboard across the street. He was used to seeing his face everywhere he went, but this….

“The Girl Who Saved Paris”

The headline blared in bold, black lettering. Someone had gotten a hold of Marinette’s school picture and edited it side by side with one of Ladybug’s press shots. It was a great photo. They both were. He hated it.

They still weren’t sure how the leak had happened, though Adrien was sure he knew who was responsible. One last act of misery wrought by his father, one final shot at revenge - if he was to be unmasked, she would be, too. Now the entire world knew who Ladybug was.

“Are you sure I can’t cataclysm him?”

Plagg popped into the shadow of Adrien’s hood and hovered by his cheek.

“If you cataclysm him, then he won’t be held accountable,” Adrien explained for the thousandth time. “And the people of Paris deserve that. We deserve that.”

“At least let me do the billboards then,” Plagg whined, glaring at the one across the street as Adrien began walking again. 

“No use,” Adrien muttered. He’d tried. Three more had sprung up overnight, as if punishing him for even trying. Someone was certainly determined. “Claws out!”

And then he was running, first down the streets, then across the rooftops as he angled for the only place he felt normal anymore. 

The Dupain-Cheng bakery was busier than ever thanks to the billboards. He couldn’t blame the people that hoarded the doors, desperate for a glimpse of the girl who had saved them all. He knew that, but still, some part of him seethed. Hadn’t she given them enough?

He circled the block and approached her roof from the back, pausing to detransform behind a chimney, as if there would be anything less scandalous than the son of Ladybug’s arch enemy slipping into her room.

But no one saw him creep across the roof, and after a moment, Adrien dropped through the skylight onto the end of Marinette’s bed.

Despite being a model, despite years of fencing, there was just no getting around it: he wasn’t as graceful without the Miraculous. The jostle he created with his landing was enough to wake her up.

“Adrien?” she mumbled sleepily, squinting at him in the gloomy darkness of her room. 

“Sorry,” he murmured as he settled against the pillows she’d placed at the end of the bed for him. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I’d rather be awake than asleep if you’re here,” she said. She pushed herself up, and Adrien almost might have bought a speedy recovery, if he didn’t know her well enough to notice how she braced herself for the charade first. “Is everything ok?”

“He wouldn’t tell me,” he said. “Who had the peacock.”

Marinette sighed, her shoulders drooping. “It was worth a shot.”

She’d been the only one to think so, but Adrien suspected she was also the only one who knew how much he’d needed to face his father one last time. Confirming Gabriel’s accomplice would have only been an added bonus. The question itself truly was irrelevant; Adrien could guess at the answer. Why else would Nathalie have been named his guardian in the event anything happened to his father?

“How are you doing?” Adrien asked.

Marinette shrugged, doing a halfway decent impression of her usual bright smile. “Every day is an improvement.”

But Adrien’s eyes narrowed. “That sounds suspiciously like a half-truth.”

“It’s a whole truth,” she insisted, but a tremor rolled through her body. “It’s not exactly a great day.”

Another understatement.

The truth was, Marinette was incredibly lucky. It was as though her Miraculous had infused her life, blessing her with little charmed moments. That was the only way to explain how she’d survived the cave in at Hawk Moth’s lair. Some doctors would chalk it up to the volume of her dress protecting her from any real damage. Other would call it a fluke. One doctor said if the tables hadn’t been in the room, the piece that fell would have crushed her spine completely.

She’d been bleeding so much when he and Ryuuko had pulled her from the rubble that Adrien had thought for sure she hadn’t made it. It wasn’t until later, when he was patrolling on his own to take the edge off, that he realized he’d never reached for her earrings in that horrible moment. He’d never even thought to use the wish.

Seconds after they’d freed her, Marinette’s chest rose in a shallow breath. She’d coughed, choking on cement dust. An exhausted Plagg had swirled up into Adrien’s face.

“Only Chat Noir is going to get her to a hospital in time,” the kwami said.

“But you’re - ”

“Do it,” Plagg demanded. Adrien hadn’t wasted any more time.

He’d never run so fast in his life. It wasn’t until he’d cataclysmed his way through a billboard that was in his way that he realized the paw pad on his ring wasn’t counting down anymore. He hadn’t known it at the time, but it was the last time Marinette would be afforded anonymity. He’d  thought he’d have to convince the hospital staff to let Chat Noir visit her the next day, had come up with a plethora of lines to persuade them - only to have them part in hushed tones when he arrived, saying <em>of course</em> they’d let him see his partner.

He’d panicked as he’d approached her room. How was he going to tell her? How had it even happened?

But as he’d pushed open the door, Chat Noir had seen Marinette sitting up, alert, her face grim. She didn’t move as he entered the room, and it was then that he noticed she was staring at the tv in her room. It was the only story on any channel.

“Does it ever get easier?” she’d wondered as he’d stopped beside her bed. “Having your personal life on display?”

He’d thought for a moment. “No. But it helps having good people by you.”

And that was that. He’d learned that despite the blood, she’d only really suffered one major injury: a deep gash across her back that ran from her right shoulder to her left hip. The doctors had done everything they could, and spared no expense once they discovered who they were working on, but a scar was inevitable.

“Is there anything I can do?” Adrien asked now. Marinette fidgeted, and for a moment he thought she might say no, but then she blushed a deep scarlet.

“The bandages need to be changed,” she said. “But I don’t want you to have - ”

“I’ll do it,” Adrien said. “It’s the least I can do.”

Marinette dropped her gaze to the comforter, weariness heavy on her shoulders. “For the ‘girl who saved Paris’?”

“For the girl I love.”

Adrien held her gaze as her head shot back up. It was an offer, nothing more. She’d rejected him several times before. He could take it again, if that was what she wanted. If she needed some time. 

But he couldn’t help but feel that, as the world fell apart around them in so many ways, this was the one thing that was finally coming together.

Marinette released a shaky breath. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

Adrien smiled softly. “I’m happy to practice. But first, bandages.”

“I’m going to need some help,” Marinette admitted as she regarded the loft stairs. “We tried staying down stairs, but some of the more ambitious fans managed to sneak up through the bakery. No one’s made it up here yet.”

“Partly due to Jagged’s security team I’d guess,” Adrien said as he carefully maneuvered to the stairs. He’d spotted them doing their best attempt at crows control on the way in. “It was nice of him to loan them out to you.”

“I think he would have done it even if I wasn’t Ladybug,” Marinette said with a small smile. 

“I think you’re right,” Adrien agreed. Jagged Stone might have been eccentric, but he had a heart of gold Adrien rarely saw in other celebrities. “Ready?” Marinette’s smile vanished as she regarded the descent. “I’ll be quick,” he promised.

She inhaled sharply as she leaned in and wrapped her arms around his neck. She squeezed as he slipped one arm under her knees and gingerly placed his other hand on her back. He could feel the raised scar through her shirt. He took a quick peek, then relaxed a little; she hadn’t bled through the bandages. 

“Where to?” Adrien asked.

“There’s a stool by the sink,” Marinette said. Pain laced her voice. 

“I love you,” he reminded her. 

“Love you, too,” she said.

And then she buried her face his shoulder with a muffled scream as he carried her down from the bed, across the room, and set her on the stool. She was panting when he leaned back. Her arms slipped off his shoulders to her lap as one, two tears escaped.

“I’m fine,” she said as Adrien brushed away her tears with the back of his knuckle. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, but she just caught his hand with her own where he’d cupped her cheek.

“I’m glad it’s you,” she said earnestly.

“I’m glad it’s me, too,” Adrien said with a small smile as he stood. He turned to the sink as she saw to the buttons of her night shirt, waiting til the water ran warm to fill the small bowl someone had left on the rim. He collected fresh bandages, clean towels, and the antiseptic ointment someone had laid out as well.

When he turned back, he saw that Marinette had finished with her shirt and slipped it off. The fabric had pooled on the floor around her stool. He’d known about the wound. He hadn’t even considered the bruising - at least, not until that moment, when he saw it flowering out from beneath the white bandages wrapped around her torso.

“Ready?” Adrien asked as he kneeled beside her. Marinette nodded. This would be almost as bad as the moving. Maybe not quite as painful, but it would go on for much longer. 

“I’m starting,” he said. He made quick work of the knot at the side, then began unwinding.

“I never did ask,” he said. “How did you end up with your Miraculous?”

Marinette shrugged, then hissed at the movement as it tugged at her wound. 

“Ran into Master Fu on the way to school one morning,” she explained. “The first day of school, actually. The day you started. He was having trouble crossing the street. The light was about to change.” She snorted. “An act, obviously. That man’s never been helpless a day in his life. I rushed out to help him. Dropped all the macarons Papa made for the first day of class that day in the process. He still took one when I offered. When I came home at lunch, the Miraculous was on my desk.”

Adrien laughed softly. “That sounds familiar.” He unwound the last of the bandages and dropped them into the trash. Thankfully there was very little bleeding where the bandages had pulled away some of the scabbing. “I’m going to clean this now,” he said. She nodded sharply.

“I almost blew my identity - that first - day,” Marinette said in fits and starts as Adrien gently cleaned away old medicine and a little blood. “When Tikki popped out of the earrings. I called - for my mom and dad.”

“What happened?” Adrien asked as he worked around the wiry black sutures.

“Tikki stopped me,” she said, relaxing as he finally finished cleaning. She reached her hand back for a clean cloth, and he dunked one in the warm water before handing it to her. “I’m lucky they didn’t hear me,” she said as she cleaned her front where the bandages would go back on. 

“Luck does seem to be your specialty,” Adrien agreed. But there was no denying as he looked at Marinette’s back that destruction was his. She’d only been hurt because of the damage he’d done to the room. Now she’d forever wear the scars of his weakness. 

“Does this hurt?” Adrien asked as he applied some of the medication.

Marinette shook her head. “Not badly. It’s actually a little soothing. What about you?”

Adrien frowned. “Am I hurt?” 

“No,” Marinette said with a short laugh. “How did you end up with your Miraculous?”

“Oh.” Pieces of the full picture crowded in on him as he thought back to the day, but he pushed them away. There would be time to make those connections later. “It’s a similar story. I was trying to get to school while evading Nathalie and my body guard. I was halfway up the stairs when I saw Master Fu fall on the side walk. I didn’t think about it, I just went to help him. That afternoon, the Miraculous was on my coffee table.”

“Is that why you were late that day?” Marinette wondered, straightening as Adrien began to wind the clean bandages around her torso. 

“I’m surprised you remember.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Hard to forget. It was all Chloe would talk about.”

“That sounds about right,” Adrien said with a half smile. He finished wrapping the bandages and tied them off. “By the time I turned back around, Nathalie and my bodyguard were blocking the stairs. They took me back home. It wasn’t until that afternoon that my father reconsidered my attendance.” At the time he’d thought he’d caught his father in a rare good mood. Now he couldn’t help but wonder if Gabriel had simply wanted him out of the way while he worked. “Where can I get a clean shirt?”

“Bottom drawer on the left,” Marinette said, pointing towards her dresser. “Do you remember that thing with the gum?”

Now Adrien did laugh. It felt wrong coming out, like he’d forgotten a little bit how it was supposed to work. “I can’t believe we almost didn’t like each other.”

“Me either,” Marinette admitted. “Could you imagine? Friends as heroes, enemies as ourselves?”

“Au contraire,” Adrien said as he pulled out a clean blue night shirt from Marinette’s dresser. “I think you would have fallen for ‘Chat Noir’ a long time ago if ‘Adrien’ hadn’t managed to win you over.”

To his delight, Marinette blushed a deep pink. “You may be right,” she said, but she didn’t look away. “Such a shame we’ll never know.”

“I think I can live with that,” Adrien said, grinning. He shook out the top and helped Marinette guide her arms through the soft cotton. “Back to bed?”

But Marinette shook her head. “I finally feel a little better. I don’t want to ruin that. Would you help me to the chaise?”

“Of course,” Adrien said. He came around to stand in front of her and took both her hands, helping her to her feet. It was slow going, but he got the sense that she liked being on her feet and more or less self-sufficient, so he was happy to take his time.

But when they got to the chaise, Marinette hesitated.

“Would you stay?”

“As long as you want, Marinette,” he promised. He sat down first and let her get comfortable on her own before guiding them both back. “Is this ok?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, her head on his chest. “This is…I must have imagined this a million times.”

“Yeah?” Adrien asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “How does it measure up?”

“The real thing is so much better.” She pressed closer, then giggled. “It’s purr-fect.”

Adrien groaned as she laughed, but he was smiling, too. “And you say my puns are bad.”

“They are bad,” she said, “But I love them anyway.”

“You’re too kind, m’lady,” Adrien said. “Now you need to rest. I have it on good authority healing takes a lot of sleep.”

“Mmm,” she mumbled, but then Adrien was running his fingers through her hair, and she was gone in seconds. He craned his neck to see her face, and after a few minutes, even the pain that lined her face faded. 

“That’s the most peaceful she’s been since she came home,” Tikki said, drifting down from the loft.

“Has it been bad?” Adrien murmured.

“She’s been worried about you,” Tikki said. “It keeps her awake.”

Adrien shook his head. “Typical Marinette. Worrying about everyone else when she should be worried about herself.”

“She loves you,” Tikki said. “She can’t help it.”

“Yeah, I know,” Adrien said. “I know. I love her, too.”

Which was why, after another twenty minutes, Adrien slowly slipped out from under Marinette and laid her as gently as he could back on the chaise. The corner of her mouth turned down, but he brushed it away with a kiss. 

“Leaving so soon?” Plagg asked.

“Something like that,” Adrien said, his mouth set in a grim line. “Plagg, claws out.”

Despite the bright light, Marinette didn’t even stir. 

“Adrien?” Tikki said as she drifted closer. He had time to wonder how something so small could look so suspicious. “What are you doing?”

“Giving her what she needs,” Chat Noir said with a glance at Marinette. “Some peace.”

“She already does,” Tikki said, following him to the hatch in the floor. 

“I won’t sacrifice her to win,” he said simply. He dimly recalled her saying the same thing to him - or at least, a version of him. Hawk Moth had whipped him up into such a frenzy that he’d barely heard the words, had barely considered them, but even as he’d reached for her earrings, a part of him had recoiled. He’d wanted to give up the anger then. It hadn’t been enough. 

But he could make it count now.

He straightened as he descended the stairs. Tikki chased him down to the main level where she finally hung back, falling silent. He could see the crowds of people through the window panes of the back door. Good. It was good. 

He didn’t balk as he pushed open the doors. Didn’t shrink or hide his face as every head in the room swivelled towards him. For a moment, there was silence. Then the chaos began.

He didn’t linger. He pushed back Tom and Sabine. He couldn’t read their faces. Wasn’t sure he wanted to. There would be nothing but outrage and disgust there in a few moments. 

For once, his heart was steady as he pushed through the doors and into the street outside the bakery, the crowd from inside close on his heels. It didn’t trip or stutter or race at the scrutiny. For the first time, he was completely sure.

“Chat Noir!” Nadja Chamuck had pushed to the front and now shoved a microphone under his nose. “Were you just visiting Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the girl Paris now knows has been saving them for the better part of two years? Sources say she was grievously wounded in the final battle with Hawk Moth - is that true? Will she recover?”

Beneath the mask of news anchor, he could see Nadja was genuinely worried. He remembered that Marinette wasn’t just some random high school girl; she was Nadja’s baby-sitter. 

He would have to reassure her another time.

“Parisians,” he began. His voice was strong, steady. It didn’t betray any emotions - possibly because for once he felt at peace. “Hawk Moth ensured Ladybug’s identity was revealed before he was captured. It was his final act of revenge. But as Ladybug’s partner, I can not, and will not let her weather this storm alone.You know me as Chat Noir, Ladybug’s parter, the boy that’s been saving you for the past two years. Now you will know me as I am. Plagg, claws in.”

Adrien counted down his last moments of peace as his transformation dissolved, finally revealing his true face to the city he and Marinette loved so much. 

’Does it ever get easier? Having your personal life on display?’

That’s what she’d asked him. He’d told her most of the truth. But the other part, the part he’d known she’d eventually discover on her own, was that you could get used to anything if you experienced it often enough. 

And he’d had years of practice. 

[javier-djarin]

Son of the Medjai: Chapter 3

Osiris’s Curse: Book 1

The Mummy AU

Ship: Pero Tovar x Aria MacKenzie (OC)

Rating: M

Word Count:  5,022 Words

Warnings: Language, Angst, Mild Violence

Masterlist

Summary: The river boat is attacked, forcing them to leave behind all their supplies. Pero navigates uncharted waters with Aria that seem more difficult to manage than anything he's ever faced.

A/N: This might be my favorite part so far. I am having so much fun writing this fic! I really hope you are all enjoying it as much as I am. Shout out to @rebelscumlena for being my beta! This story would not be what it is without you! Please let me know if you want to be on my taglist and what you think of the fic! Any Spanish Translations will always be found at the bottom of every chapter.

Slowly, Pero drew his revolver and crept through the main cabin door. Someone was on this ship that wasn't supposed to be, and they were headed in the same direction as Aria. The footprints led him down the main corridor towards their cabins. His heart was racing with each careful step, creeping down the hallway to surprise their unwanted guest. He reached the end of the hallway, where the footprints stopped just outside of her door. He contemplated barging in versus knocking. At first he pressed his ear against the door to listen for movement, but instead he heard her mumbling. He decided not to take any chances and barge into the room. Grabbing the doorknob, he used his shoulder to force open the door, startling Aria. She gasped and dropped her brush on the floor, desperately attempting to grab her house robe that was hanging on the hook next to her. “I beg your pardon!” she exclaimed. “Have you ever heard of knocking, Mr. Tovar?”

He frowned when he noticed she was alone in the room. “Who were you just talking to?”

Her eyes widened in horror and her face flushed. “I - were you eavesdropping?”

Pero moved to her closet, ripping the doors open. Empty. He glanced under her bed. Vacant. The curtains near the windows were sheer and showed no sign of disturbance anyway. “Mr. Tovar!” she shouted in a feeble attempt to get his attention.

The bathroom door swung shut, locking her in, as a Bedouin man in flowing black robes leapt from behind it and attacked Pero, knocking the revolver from his hand. He held his arms up to block the blows, but the man took a cheap shot to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Pero groaned and rolled to the left for his revolver. Aria had opened the bathroom door, shrieking at the sight. She walked up behind the Bedouin man and kicked him in the back. Pero was impressed as the man fell forward, bouncing off the coffee table in front of him. He aimed his gun at the man, and growled, “Why are you here?”

The man wiped the blood off his face and glared at them. “Why do you keep returning?”

The cabin door behind Aria opened as another Bedouin man reached in, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her out of the room. Pero swore and moved to go after her, but his first adversary leapt forward, grabbed his ankle and pulled him to the ground. Pero fought against his assailant and kicked free, breaking the man’s nose and knocking him unconscious in the process.

He scrambled across the hallway to his cabin and grabbed his loaded arsenal from inside the door. Tossing it across his back, he sprinted after Aria. When he emerged on deck, he noticed the chaos that had consumed everything. A fire had started in the stables as guests and crew members alike abandoned the ship. The Americans were set up comfortably behind a makeshift bunker they’d made out of their poker table and chairs as they whooped and hollered, shooting at the men attacking. “Pinche gringos,” he muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle. Pero searched for Aria, but couldn’t find her. Murphy and Nabil were cowering in the corner near the Americans defenseless. When Murphy caught his eye, he pointed in the direction of the stern. He wasn’t surprised at her brother’s cowardice, considering she had more of a backbone than he did when it came to confrontation. Following Murphy’s directions, Pero sprinted, knocking several attackers into the water on his way to the back of the boat. He heard her screaming and crying for help as the man cornered her against the railing.

“Where’s the key?” her kidnapper asked in a rough voice with a knife at her throat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she cried, “What key?”

“The key!” he growled.

She had tears in her eyes. “Please, let me go!”

Pero held his finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet, but the man noticed her gaze flash behind him and spun around, holding her in front of him like a human shield. Pero rolled his eyes and aimed his revolver at the man. “Let her go,” he snapped.

The man sneered and pressed the knife a little harder against her neck, allowing a small drop of blood trickle down her throat. “Careful,” he said, “you wouldn’t want me to slit her pretty neck.”

“Do, and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.” Pero’s grip on his gun tightened as he carefully took aim. Aria didn’t struggle against the man holding her out of fear that his blade would do more damage than it already had.

The man twisted the blade just a little and more blood appeared in a small stream down her neck. Aria’s eyes widened in terror as she pleaded silently to Pero for help. He squeezed the trigger. The gun’s hammer struck the firing pin as the sound echoed across the Nile. She felt the bullet whiz past her ear, striking the man behind her. His grip on her loosened as he fell limply to the ground. It wasn’t until Pero rushed forward to hold her in his arms did she realize what had happened. Panic consumed her as he wiped the blood off her face. She leaned into him, shielding her eyes from the body as he led her away from the scene. They sought shelter for a brief moment under the awning as he inspected the small cut under her chin. It was there, but it wasn’t life threatening. She was gazing into his eyes as he lightly ran his thumb over it, causing bumps to rise on her smooth skin. He could feel himself leaning into her, captivated by her so close to him. Suddenly, an explosion went off, startling them apart. He checked his revolver again, before pressing himself against the wall. Using his free hand, he forced Aria to do the same next to him. “Stay low and behind me,” he said, handing her his arsenal bag.

She grabbed his hand in hers. “Pero,” she whispered, “what if-”

“They won’t. I gave you my word, didn’t I?” He replied, squeezing her hand before leading them through the battle.

He spun to the right and shot at several attackers climbing out of the second story windows to escape the flames. Aria clung to him, ducking whenever she heard shots fired. They were making their way to Murphy and Nabil when another Bedouin man attacked Pero with a knife drawn. Pero pushed Aria out of the way, forcing her into Murphy's custody. His assailant slashed him across his forearm as he blocked him from slitting his throat. He hissed at the piercing pain that was shooting up his arm now. He grabbed the man’s hand and twisted it, forcing it behind his back. He kicked the man away from him as hard as he could before unloading the remaining ammunition in his revolver into him. The fire had grown, now consuming most of the main level cabins as it climbed up the rest of the ship. He strode to Aria with an annoyed grimace on his face. “Tell me you know how to swim,” he sighed.

“What? Well, of course I can, if the situation calls for it,” she said, placing her hands on her hips to make his statement seem even more ridiculous.

Pero grinned and scooped her up in his arms, causing her to drop his bag. “Trust me,” he added, tossing her over the side, “it calls for it.”

She shrieked as she hit the water, the coldness seeping into her robe and nightgown. Pero watched for a split second to see if she came up, laughing when he saw her furiously kicking and gasping for air as she swam away from the boat cursing him. “Bastard!” he heard her swear, “I never in my life met a man so uncouth, uncivilized! Who does he think he is, tossing me overboard like some cheap rag doll?”

He tossed his arsenal over his shoulder and jumped in after her, followed by Murphy and Nabil. The shore was not a far swim for them, and Pero caught up to Aria in no time. She was huffing and puffing, half tempted to abandon her robe the more she struggled. Soon, their feet hit the river bottom. They stood and Aria immediately adjusted her robe to cover herself. Pero looked down at her with a small grin and shook his head as he situated the pack on his shoulder. “We’ve lost everything,” she cried, “all our food, supplies. My clothes!”

“At least you saved that robe,” he chuckled, “I would hate to have you out here in nothing but that dainty nightdress.”

“Some of us have to maintain a sense of propriety,” she argued, “just because I’ve only got this nightgown left doesn’t mean I’m going to choose to run as naked as a bairn out here in the desert.”

Pero laughed again at the thought and then patted the satchel he carried. “We have enough money from Will to get what we need at the nearest village. You don’t need to worry about running around naked just yet. Though,” he said, helping her out of the river and glancing over her body, “no one is stopping you.”

She huffed, pulled her robe closer to her, and joined a soaked Murphy on the side of the river. “Ah yes,” he whispered to his sister, “absolutely nothing to like there at all.”

She glared and turned to him, cuffing him on the shoulder. Nabil laughed while Murphy feigned an injury and meekly followed behind a fuming Aria. “I think you dislocated it this time, old mum,” he complained.

Aria growled and shook her head. “I’ll rip it out of its socket the next time, if you keep it up.”

Murphy glanced at Nabil and chuckled. “She threatens to do that at least once a week.”

Pero lingered behind them for a moment and glared back at the ship. He watched as the rest of the passengers crossed to the other side of the river, and that’s when he saw Beckett join the Americans. He grinned to himself. Every soul that survived the raid crossed to the East side of the Nile - passengers, crew members, camels, and their horses. Beckett had everything; except he was on the wrong side of the river. He watched as his rival figured out the same thing before their eyes met. Pero gave him a smug smile and waved at him before turning back to join the rest of his party. They would have at least a few hours or so on the Americans if they kept moving to find the closest Bedouin tribe to help them with supplies.

Murphy and Pero had gathered what they could to build them a fire that night, allowing everyone to dry off and rest. As she did her best to stay warm against the cool desert wind, Aria took notice of Pero wrapping his arm with a makeshift bandage. She made an attempt to move towards him and help properly dress it, but stopped as he caught her eye. Anticipating what she was going to do, he instead shook his head and quickly covered the bandaged wound with his sleeve. They would worry about it when they reached civilization.

When he felt that they had rested enough, Pero pushed the group forward. He wanted them to locate the nearest market before Beckett and his crew. Aria was following right behind him with Murphy and Nabil muttering complaints between them. She sighed, rolling her eyes at her brother and ran to walk next to their guide. Before long the outline of a market was on the horizon, and she couldn’t have been more grateful. She was starving and her feet were sore. Holding her robe close to her, she glanced up at Pero from the corner of her eye. She’d caught him gazing at her before he straightened and his eyes darted forward. “Who were those men?” she asked.

He sighed and adjusted the sack on his shoulder. “Members of some tribe or group that protects Aten,” he muttered, “or at least I think that’s their job. I’ve run into them the last two times. They’re Bedouin, I believe.”

“They attacked us in Cairo,” she admitted, “when Murphy first showed me the map he’d stolen from you.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Did they get the map?”

She nodded. “This time they were asking about a key.”

Frowning, Pero looked out across the sands. Murphy hadn’t stolen a key from him, unless there was something more to that box than he initially thought.

“Will they be back?”

Pero stopped and looked at her. He could see the fear in her eyes. She was not prepared for this, and he took part of the blame. He should have warned her better about what they were facing. On top of whatever was underneath the sand there, the land was littered with the blood of those the Bedouin deemed as trespassers. “Yes,” he sighed, “they will. But they know me, and they know not to fuck with my group. Honestly, I'm more worried about Beckett than I am the raiders.”

“James?” She asked with a smile. “But I quite enjoyed his company.”

Rolling his eyes, Pero pushed on. He couldn’t understand why her interest in Beckett bothered him so. Regardless of the reason he was choosing to avoid, he didn’t want that man anywhere near him or his party. He knew too much about how he operated, and if there was one thing Pero despised most it was being vulnerable. “Aria,” he huffed as they continued their trek, “be careful with James. He’s a treasure hunter that only takes interest in something or someone if it’s worth anything to him. The second a better price comes along, he will sell you out.”

“Isn’t that how you see…” she paused and glanced at him, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, “me?”

Pero stiffened. The short answer was yes, but the more time he spent with her - the more he sought opportunities to irritate her - that answer became more complex. It’d been a while since he’d felt any emotion outside the realm of mild annoyance. Taking a deep breath, he decided the best answer to give her was a professional, emotionless answer. “I’m true to my word and loyal enough that I won’t sell you out.”

He saw her deflate a little and turn her gaze away from him. “Oh,” she replied, “right. Of course.”

Her tone was different. Disappointed. He knew immediately that his answer was not the one she wanted. “What I meant was-”

“I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Tovar,” she interrupted.

She moved to join Murphy, who was several paces behind them, when he grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Aria.”

She gazed down at his grasp before looking up at him. “So long as my brother and I make it back home in one piece,” she affirmed, “you will still receive the payment you were promised.”

He dropped her hand and watched her help Murphy off the ground. He’d clearly stumbled in the sand, and now she was helping him dust off. Pero’s chest tightened the longer he gazed at her. He wasn’t used to being in the presence of a woman who’d stirred something in him. She challenged him in a way that he wasn’t sure agitated or thrilled him. She was fiery and way too stubborn for her own good; he liked it. It was fun and she kept him on his toes. He found himself smiling when a large shoulder knocked into him. “Careful there, Tovar,” Nabil said, “the desert is an unforgiving place for those unprepared.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes at the cheesy piece of advice. “I’m fine,” he muttered.

“Tell that to the stupid look you have on your face.” Nabil laughed and began singing another popular Egyptian song that was loud and wildly off key.

By early morning when they reached the small market, Aria had said very little to Pero since their talk about Beckett. When it came time to find supplies, he decided to task her with finding food and bedrolls. He even tried to joke with her about finding clothes for her to wear, but he was met with a cold stare and a feigned smile. He was left to watch Aria’s back as she walked away, ignoring his attempt to call after her. Murphy came up and slapped him on the shoulder with a chuckle. “Not that I want to get involved in this,” he laughed, “but, you really fucked it up back there, mate.”

Pero glared at him. “You heard?”

“We’re four people roaming an empty desert with nothing else around. Of course I heard you.” He watched as Pero internally groaned, staring in the direction Aria disappeared.

“I didn’t mean to offend her,” he added, not really aware that he’d said that out loud.

Murphy and Nabil both laughed, pulling him towards a man selling camels and horses. “Are you having a laugh?” Murphy asked. “You’ve been trying to get her goat since the two of you met.”

He forced the two men to walk in front of him. “Murphy,” he spat, desperate to change the topic, “make yourself useful and secure our transportation.”

Murphy approached the merchant, shaking his head at Pero. He started bargaining with a man for four horses, but the man wanted to sell him all five in the herd. They started arguing, but Pero wasn’t paying any attention. He was staying alert, waiting for Aria to reappear in the market. She’d been gone for a while - too long for his liking. He started in the direction she went, asking if anyone had seen her. Finally, a woman nodded and pointed in the direction of a large tent just down the way from where he was. “Aria!” he called.

He heard some women murmur and giggle from inside the tent. “Aria!”

The tent door ruffled before a short, middle-aged woman flung it open and walked out, leading Aria in her own deep blue dress with a sheer veil covering her in typical Bedouin fashion and a thin golden belt that kept the layers wrapped together. Her hair had been brushed and twisted into a loose braid beneath the sheer fabric. In a word, she was bewitching. She glanced up at him with a smile, completely different from when they first arrived. He returned her smile when she stopped in front of him. “Were you worried I ran off with Mr. Beckett?” she softly asked.

He felt his face flush a little, but he managed to hide the emotions bubbling at the surface. “We’re ready to go,” he replied. Suddenly his mouth had gone dry, and he found himself struggling to take a deep breath.

She grinned and watched him shift nervously in front of her, his eyes suddenly averting from hers. Aria noticed he anxiously tugged at the sleeve over his makeshift bandage that had turned red. Frowning, she reached out to grab his hand. “You’ve bled through your bandage ,” she said, gently lifting his sleeve up.

“It’s nothing to be concerned over,” he replied, trying to pull away from her, but her grip was firm.

She slowly peeled back the dressing and saw a long gash down his forearm. Not having seen much of it from when he initially wrapped it himself, she started to feel guilty knowing he had sustained such an injury from protecting her. It wasn’t deep, luckily. “Let me help,” she suggested, “At least to clean and redress it properly.”

“Librarian, herbalist, and now doctor. Is there anything you can’t do?” he asked with a chuckle, following her back into the tent she’d just exited.

Aria smiled at him again before turning to one of the women and asking for medical supplies. “When you grow up with Murphy as your brother, you tend to acquire a unique set of skills.” Once the supplies were brought to her, she immediately began cleaning it. Pero winced, and she smiled almost bashfully, taking more care as she continued on with her work. He found himself enjoying her smile more than anything and made it his personal mission to find ways to make it appear more often. “For a man as tough as you, this hurts?”

He playfully rolled his eyes. “I’m not immune to pain, Aria,” he grumbled, “Mortal weapons can still kill me.” This drew a laugh out of her; it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and he’d do anything to hear it again.

“Well, fortunately for us,” she added, “this is too far from your heart to kill you.” Aria went to place the bandage around his arm when she noticed the peculiar tattoo she’d seen at the prison. It was the Eye of Horus in the center of a pyramid with a circle that she assumed was the sun protruding from behind it. Pero noticed her gaze and froze as she traced it. “I’ve seen this symbol before.”

He didn’t move away from her, as he typically did when people saw his strange tattoo. He let her examine it, gliding her fingers across it. In a weird way, he enjoyed it. This was a new sensation to him, one that he didn’t want to end. He could feel knots in his stomach churn as his chest tightened, squeezing every last bit of air out of his lungs. “I’ve had this for as long as I can remember,” he softly replied, “I think I got it when I was still in the orphanage in Cairo.”

She looked up at him, sorrow in her gaze. “The orphanage?”

He nodded. “I ran away from one in Barcelona when I was twelve. I stowed away on a ship and ended up here where they tossed me right back into another one in Cairo. I left there when I was fifteen, and then spent the better part of my life job hopping until the War started.”

She glanced down at his tattoo again, lightly rubbing her thumb over it. “It’s a sign of protection,” she continued, “this is the -”

“Eye of Horus,” he said, “The Bedouin have the same tattoo.” Aria froze, staring at him with a mild panic in her eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m not working for them. But their leader, Shakir Fahmy, once told me that it was the sign of the Medjai. He tried convincing me that it was my destiny to protect Aten from outsiders; that it is my duty to ensure the safety of the secrets that lie beneath the sand, instead of selling expeditions to the highest bidder.”

“If they have this tattoo, they’re not just any Bedouin tribe,” she replied, “those men after us are sa-en Medjai, Sons of the Medjai. I heard stories that they survived long after the Egyptian Empire fell, but never had I seen evidence of this being true.” She glanced down at his arm again before wrapping the bandage tight around it. “Mr. Tovar -”

“You can call me Pero,” he softly stated, holding her hand once she finished wrapping his injury.

Aria smiled at him again, leaning closer to him. “Pero,” she paused, letting the sweet sensation of his name felt rolling off her tongue sink in, “this must mean you are a Son of the Medjai.”

He chuckled. “What does that mean?”

He watched her light up, suddenly excited to share her knowledge with him. She talked fast and with such passion, he was pulled into this world she’d created and brought to life in front of him. “The Sons of the Medjai, according to records found in the Valley of Kings, were the elite of the Medjai. Not much is known of the Lost Dynasty, but it is said they were founded then. There have been references to them all over Ancient Egypt, and one thing has remained constant: they never leave the city of Thebes. They served no Pharoah, only Osiris himself. Their symbol was this,” she said, pointing to his tattoo, “a gift from their god to protect them while they served. Some records say they were warriors for Osiris against the armies of Set. Many believed that the Sons were sent by Osiris himself, born to the people instead of families.”

“Born to the people?”

She nodded feverently. “Yes. It means they had no family, but instead were raised by their village until they were old enough to take on their sacred duties.”

He coyly smiled at her. “So, what you’re saying is,” he softly said, moving closer to her, “I am a gift from the gods?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Pero,” she smirked. They were close enough that she could feel his lips lightly brushing against hers, when suddenly there was a commotion outside that forced them to move apart. He watched as her eyes averted from his and a deep burn spread across her face. He grinned and moved past her to see what the ruckus was. Murphy, of course, had dragged their transports through this part of the market, causing several of the merchants to yell at him, cursing him for knocking over a few stands. Pero growled, silently cursing her brother himself for ruining the moment. He stormed out of the tent, Aria following closely behind him, and grabbed the reins from Murphy, who was giving both of them a knowing smirk.

“Did I interrupt something?” Murphy asked, “The looks on your faces say it all.”

Glaring at the man, he turned the horses away from the market and grumbled loud enough for him to hear, “Te dispararía ahora mismo si no tuviera un gran respeto por tu hermana.”

Murphy walked up next to Aria and bumped her shoulder with his. “Do I need to have a chat with him? You know, man-to-man?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at her brother. “You really are an idiot, Murph. I was dressing his wound from that ghastly man on the boat.”

He snickered and covered his mouth with his hand to hide it. Nabil was busying himself at a fruit stand, and Pero was now on the opposite side of the small village, waiting. Aria turned to Murphy and crossed her arms, in clear annoyance. “What is it?”

“Oh nothing,” he said, “I just remember you said there was nothing to like there at all.”

Aria sighed. “We have to work together. I might as well make the best of this situation.”

She stormed off to join Pero. She watched him with a small smile while he calmed one of the horses that was spooked by a couple of children who ran by them. Her gaze caught his, and he returned his smile. All at once, he watched as his surroundings turned from the quiet, desert market to a brightly lit, gold-encrusted hallway. There were elaborate hieroglyphics and paintings on the walls with high arches on the left, open to the expanding city below. The sunset painted the sky with purples and oranges as a cool breeze drifted in from the Nile. In front of him was a beautiful, dark-haired woman dressed in silky, white robes with an intricate headpiece that resembled a much smaller version of Isis’s headdress. She looked like a queen. As she walked toward him, he realized the strong resemblance she had with Aria. She was Aria but she wasn’t at the same time. She smiled when she reached him, wrapping her arm around his. He saw her mouth move, but he heard nothing come out. No sound, no words. He tried to listen, but all he heard was a muffled voice in the distance yell “Nefertari!” The woman turned to look in the direction of the voice. She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek before disappearing, taking the rest of this hallucination with her.

Pero reached up to touch his cheek. He felt her lips against his skin. Clearly still lost in his fantasy, he couldn’t hear Aria running forward calling his name until she was in front of him. The worry was written all over her face as she held his face in her hands to force him to look at her. His eyes were still glossy as they looked through her instead of at her. “Pero!” she cried, “What is it?”

He frowned, absorbing what happened. He was back in the small market, Aria was no longer dressed like the Egyptian royalty he’d just held in his arms. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, he let out a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I-I-,” he was struggling.

“Pero,” she said, rubbing her thumbs over his cheeks, holding his head up.

“I think that blade was laced with something,” he said, “or I need water.”

Much to Aria’s horror, the color didn’t return to his now pale face. She helped him sit down on the low wall he was standing near. She waved for Murphy to grab water. “What’s wrong?”

He grabbed her wrists, gently running his thumbs up and down the insides of them to calm her. “I saw -” he paused. No, it’s best to keep what I saw to myself.

“What?”

“I’m not sure what. I think the desert heat is just getting to me.”

She was not convinced, but decided not to push it.

“The Pharoah returns and now he will die. Ausar and his queen will meet their fates again.”

The ghostly voice Aria had heard not three days ago had returned. She slowly glanced around for the source, not wanting to draw attention to herself. But when she looked back at Pero, she could see on his face that he had heard it too. The two remained holding each other’s gaze, each worried for what they would face the further into the desert they went.

Translations

Pinche gringos - Fucking gringos (white people)

Te dispararía ahora mismo si no tuviera un gran respeto por tu hermana. - I would shoot you right now if I didn't have high respect for your sister.

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