#at: armor tailored to the mission (wardrobe)

[lady-mimis]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU - SUPERMAN

Summary: Where Diana youngest sister is supposed to make a Christmas list but all she wants for Christmas is Clark Kent

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes that might be on the text

Notes: I wanted to make a fluffy imagine for the holiday so I hope you all enjoy it. Merry Christmas guys!

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"Hey (Y/N), What are you doing? You've been staring at that notebook for hours" Flash asked with a curious look, stopping his chat with Green Lantern.

The truth was that you'd spent the whole evening thinking about what you wanted for Christmas, but you couldn't think of any present you desired. To be honest, you don't even know what Christmas is

"Hm... my sister and Bruce told me to make my Christmas list but I can't think of anything. I don't need anything, I'm content with my stuff" You point to the empty notebook in your hands

"Wow, I wish I could have your resignation, (Y/N)!" Green Lantern joked, admired with your words

"Well, that's not a problem, we can help you!" Wally and Hal sat closer to you

"What do you think about a new perfume? Wally suggested. You denied shaking your head

"New clothes?" Hal suggested it with a thinking look

"I already have a wardrobe with many of them" You pouted, feeling a little frustrated

"Do you like puppies?" Hal suggested excitedly

"Do you mean dog spawns? Yes, it's cute!" You smiled, remembering how cute those creatures are

"Put it on your list then!"

"I don't know if I should have one of them tough" You deny thinking about something else

A few times later

"C'mon (Y/N)! You just have to think of anything you desire. Santa is gonna make your wish come true" Hal groaned impatiently

"Who is Santa? Is he some kind of genie of the lamp who concedes wishes?" You ask confusedly. Hal laughed at your question

"Yeah, kind of, he's the good old man who brings the people's gifts what they asked for Christmas. It's mostly for the kids but that doesn't mean that an adult can't ask him anything" Wally laughed weakly at the crooked smile that appeared on your face

"So it doesn't need to be an object?" You asked, starting to write some words on the paper

Something I desire? That's interesting

"No, you can ask anything you want, I'm sure he will make it happen" Wally says with humor. You look at him with hope

"I'm done!" You stand up proudly

"So, what did you ask for Christmas?" Hal asked, poking your cheeks

"I write a short letter to Santa asking the only thing I desire in this world" You stated excited

"That would be?" Wally was really curious about what you wrote

You were interrupted by a call for your help in Metropolis

In a flash of eyes, you are in your silver armor and helmet on

"Sorry guys, duties call. Thank you for the help" You wave to them

You left two curious man behind

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"Thank you for the help, I really appreciate it" Superman puts a hand on your shoulders, thanking you, flashing a bright smile to you

You couldn't help but check on how handsome he is. His suit was well tailored, his kind eyes, his white teeth, his beautiful black hair. He is perfect in every sense

"Hey you're alright? Your heartbeat is very fast" Clark asked worried about your well-being

You felt flustered for being caught looking him out

"Yeah... hm. It's just the adrenaline of the mission" You stuttered, felling your cheeks pretty warm

With a big frown on his face, he nodded unconfirmed "Sure... So what you're planning to do on Christmas?" Clark asked, looking carefully at you, analyzing you

"Am I supposed to do something? Isn't Santa the one who needs to do something? To be honest, I don't even have an idea what Christmas is" You were embarrassed for not knowing those things everyone seemed to know. Everyone talks about the Christmas and you don't even know what is this

Clark explained to you that Christmas was a holiday that humans celebrate every year, for some it was the birth of their savior and for others was just a simple holiday where they would exchange gifts and be with their family and friends. It was a form of increasing bonds with your loved ones

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Clark was taken aback by your questions about Christmas, and He realized that would be your first Christmas since you came to human civilization

Everything was new for you, and you were created in a different culture, of course you would not know their costumes and traditions. You were on your own journey to discover the world

Clark admired the way you saw the world everything looked like a new discovery for you. How your eyes would shine when you see a cute animal and wanted to pet it, how you are patient and genuine with people, how you are happy for being able to help people

So he decided to make your first Christmas be a magical one

"Why have you solicited this reunion, Clark? And without (Y/N)?" Batman asked with a narrow gaze at your empty seat

"Well, she's the topic of the discussion" Clark says to all of his teammates

"You have the word now, Clark" Diana told him with a curious look but her voice was serious

"It's her first Christmas in the human world and I want to make it especial for her" Clark says confident

"I'm in! Where would it be?" Hal smirked, he did enjoy parties

"My moms house, she loves hostage Christmas parties" Clark smiles

"I'm kind of curious tough, where is my sister right now?" Diana asked, tapping her nails on the big table of the meeting room of the Watch Tower

"She's shopping with my mom" He answered with a bright white smile at the thought of you accompanying his mom. He could imagine his mom dragging you around the mall and you holding the shops bags and following behind her like a lost child

"What did you tell her? She doesn't go shopping easily" Diana had a wonder look on her face. Okay, maybe she was feeling a little jealousy of how Clark could convince you with easy

"I told her that my mom would need help with the bags, she didn't disagree or complain" Clark laughed softly of Dianas disbelief face

"What about her Christmas list?" Clark asked curiously looking at Diana who laughed softly

"She didn't make a Christmas list, she just wrote a letter to Santa" Diana smiled at how genuine and excited you were when you gave her your letter. She remembered you telling her to give your letter to Santa

"Alright, since she just asked for one thing, we can gift her with things she likes" Clark stated and everyone agrees

"You're dismissed then" Everyone got up and left the meeting room except Wonder Woman and Batman

"I suppose you will take care of her gift?" Bruce asked with a malicious look

"Yes" Clark says, looking suspiciously at Bruce

"Read!" She handed over the letter to him

Clark widens his eyes, reading your letter

"What does this mean?" Clark felt a little dumbfounded with your wish in the letter

"It means (Y/N) likes you, fool" Diana mocks of his shock face

"How can you be so oblivious? Everyone knows you like her too" Bruce scoffed, hiding his laugh

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Martha had stopped the pickup in front of the big farm house

You wore your dark purple winter clothes and a pair of black boots you borrowed from Diana

It was your first time there, you were kind of nervous, although spending the day with Martha was amazing. She's so gentle and caring, you could see how Clark was well raised by his parents

"Wow, your house is beautiful, Martha"

"Thank you, Dear. Could you take the shops out of the trunk?" Martha turned off the engine

"Yeah!" You took out the seat belt and got out of the car, When you stepped out, Clark opened the door of the big farm house

He was wearing a light gray flannel shirt and with his glasses on, he smiled at you making you flush

You turned around slowly, walking to the trunk

You grabbed all the bags in your arms, it wasn't heavy or anything but it was an amount of them. Suddenly the bags were taken from your hands. Clark was beside you, holding the bags for you

"Thank you, you didn't have to do it. It wasn't heavy, you know" You fake an angry face

"I know you're stronger but I want to help you" He stated, winking playful, walking to the home. Sometimes you forget how he is such a gentleman

You follow behind him silently, observing everything around you. It's funny how the humans houses were different from those on the island of the Amazons. The house was enormous compared with the city houses, it was cozy tough

You stopped in your tracks when you saw one of Kent's family portraits. It was a beautiful portrait. The three were sat on the couch, Clark was in the middle of Martha and her late husband, Jonathan.

"I love this picture. It was our last Christmas together" Martha hands you a hot chocolate drink, and look at the picture smiling nostalgic

"It's a beautiful picture" You took a sip of the sweet drink

You observe the many pictures of Clark in different phases of his life. He was cute in every of them

Martha starts to tell you about the stories behind those pictures

Clark appears and joins you in the conversation

"Wow, this is Clark? How cute!!" You point to one of his baby photos, he was wearing a dino pajama in the picture

"Well, I can already imagine what my grandchild will look like" Martha said looking at you two, smiling mischievously

Clark was flustered but you didn't catch the sign of his mom, you don't think he was like that because of you though

"I can't believe he has a photo with Santa" You sigh looking another picture of Clark, you guess he was about five years old. You felt kind of upset for not getting your photo with the old man at the Metropolis Center Mall

"Hm? What happened?" Clark frowned at your upset form but you refused to say anything

"She couldn't take a photo with Santa, they told her she was too old for that" Martha rubbed your back gently

"She doesn't have any photos, can you believe it?" Martha felt sorry for you. Photos were a form of record of the moments of life

After moments

Clark asked for your help to choose a tree for his mom house. Why ask you from everyone? You don't have an idea, but you accepted it just to pass more time with him

He had made a tour to show you the farm before you go

"It looks nice to grow up here" You said looking at the cute animals in the barn

"Yeah, Smallville is a great place, my favorite place in the world. Reminds me of my children hood" He smiled with passion

"It's so peaceful, I'm glad to know the place you grew up" You look into his kind eyes

"You should see the center. They really work hard on decorating the city" Clark looks at you and stays quiet for a while. His gaze upon you was warm and full of adoring

You avoided his eyes, feeling a little disconcerted with the look he gave you "Hm, we must go before the good trees are chosen" You clear your throat

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The city looked so magical at the night, with the Christmas decoration lighting the city, the snowflakes falling made everything looks more amazing. You're amazed by the beauty of Christmas. People were happily making their shops, and some groups of people sings christmas songs on the streets

The tree you and Clark chose was full and big, and you couldn't wait to decorate it

You both bought new decorations for the house and the christmas tree

"We did a great job" You two were watching the house from above. Wondered by the decoration of the house you and Clark managed to do, it had christmas decorations around all the house and the farm, making your eyes sparkle with the view

"Yeah, we did. I can't wait for tomorrow's Christmas party," You state excitedly "I don't have any idea in what to wear. I've never been at a human party before"

"I'm sure you look good in anything, just make sure to stay warm," Clark advised you, smiling gently

You blushed, putting a stand of your hair behind your ear "I will keep that in mind"

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On Christmas morning you and Diana were in front of the farm house, Martha had invited you for brunch

Clark open the door for you two, you could hear the chatter from the living room

"It looks like we are the last to arrive" Diana elbowed you humored, making you flinch slightly

She entered the house, greeting everyone and left you and Clark alone in the front house

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find my gloves, so we took long" You sheepishly apologize to Clark

"Don't worry, they just arrived a few moments ago," Clark says, being kind. "Nice clothes" He compliments your outfit

You wore a nice red winter outfit. Your outfit was a red bomb jacket with a red long neck sweater underneath it, red warm pants, red gloves and bonnet with some white details on it, and white winter boots

"Thank you, Martha bought me when we were shopping, she has a nice fashion sense" You wiped off the snow that fell on your jacket

You entered the house, and Clark helped you take your coat off. Every one of your teammates was in their civilian clothes, chatting animatedly

"Good morning, guys." You greeted them with your best smile

"Hey (Y/N)! Merry Christmas!" Wally appeared in a flash in front of you and hugged you tightly "I can't wait for you to see what I got for you" He says it so fast, making you laugh

"Merry Christmas, Wally." You told him happily

The smell of the food filled your nose, and you almost drool

"Hmm, the smell is delicious. I can't wait to eat it" You mumbled excited heading towards to the kitchen to greet Martha.

The brunch Martha served you was delicious, and for sure you were stuffed. After brunch, you all sat in the living room to open the presents

You sat in the armchair next to the fireplace, watching the fire glow and enjoying the warmness

"Now it's (Y/N) turn!" Diana called your attention

You stood up quite thrilled and sat on the floor in front of the decorated Christmas tree that you, Clark and Martha had decorated together.

"Open mine first, sister!" Diana told you with a big grin

You search underneath the Christmas tree for your sister's gift. It was a medium box with green wrapping and a golden gift bow

You open it carefully and burst a big smile. It was your favorite wine from the island and a bottle of the expensive whiskey you love. In the box had another bottle of white wine for you to try and a little box with a gold arm jewelry

"Are you trying to drunk me, sister?" You joke giggling and everyone laughs at your statement

"You know how hard it is to get this wine from the island, they sell out quickly" She had a proud smirk on her face "Thank you sister, I loved it" You searched for another gift and took the Bruce's present

You shake the box in your hands, trying to guess what is inside. You open the box with a curious look on your face. It has a professional camera and some accessories for the camera

"I hope you like it, I chose the best one for you. I can show you how to use it later." He smiles weakly but you knew it was sincere

"I really loved it, thank you very much, Bruce. We all have to take a photo together later," You state with a grateful smile on your face

You opened Martha's gift carefully. She had presented you with a beautiful red scarf that matched your clothes and a typical wool sweater with delicate details that symbolized Christmas

"Thank you, Martha, this is beautiful" You beamed and she smiled fondly "It's quite funny because I bought one of these for you too" You laughed weakly referring to the scarf, picking another present on your hand

"Now we are matching, darling." She winked to you delighted by your reaction

You opened Wally's gift and laughed loudly. Taking out the ugly green Christmas sweater, with the sweat brown pants and the accessory, you put on the reindeer headband

"I guess this is Christmas spirit? I'm feeling it. Thank you, Wally, you're the best!" You laugh happily

"You can use it as pajamas," He told you, showing you a yellow smile

You grab Arthur's present and say, "Believe me, I will" You mock him, and everyone laughs

It was a small box in a golden wrapping with a red gift bow. Inside was a simple medium gold hair comb and a gold handmade hair comb with delicate details and jewelry, it formed delicate flowers and leaves

"This is to improve your beauty even more" He comments charmingly

"Is this a fork?" Hal asked. Everyone laughed with his goofiness

"No you fool, it's a hair comb!" You are ecstatic by the beauty of the jewelry "It's handmade, am I right?" You gesture excitedly

"Yes, the best craftsman from Atlantis made it" He agreed proudly

"It's an amazing present, thank you, Arthur." You put the box aside, grabbing Hal's gift

When you opened it, you let out a confused huff. The box has two dog collars, some dog snacks, some dog toys, and other dog accessories.

"Hal, did you?" You asked with disbelief. Hal had a smirk on his face, nodding his head in answer

Clark appeared with two dog spawn dressed like Christmas reindeer. The dogs came running to you and jumped on you, licking your face. One was short and white. The other was big and black with brown spots

"You told me you like them, so why not?" He poked you, humored

"I can't believe it, thank you" You embrace him tightly

You search for Clark's gift and grab it underneath the tree, with the dogs around you smelling it and always jumping on you. You pet them gently

Clark's present was in a little red wrapping box with a white gift bow. You clumsy unwrapped the gift with the surrounding dogs, read the card, and left a shock sob when you saw what was inside the box.

"My perfume, how did you know?" Smiling, you splash some perfume in the air smelling it "I had a little help" He pets the white dog that was rubbing against his leg

"It seems he likes you" You comment, petting the black dog that sat on your lap

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"What are we doing here outside?" You run, trying to catch the dogs, but stumbled on the floor

"We gonna ride on the sled" Wally puts his arms on your shoulders

"Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but we don't have a sled" You elbow him with humor in your voice

"But I know someone who has it," He says, grinning 

"Oh, who else might be?" You ask interested

"Him" Wally point to the man who was sitting in the middle of the snow. Some cute reindeer were in front of the Santa's sleigh

"Oh my, is this Santa?" You put your hands on your mouth, shocked

"Yeah, go to him" Wally pushes you in his direction

"HOHOHOHO, Are you (Y/N)?" Santa asks, resting his hands on his big belly

"Yeah, Santa, have you received my letter? I swear to you, I've been cool this year" You walk closer excitedly, analyizng the man in front of you. You sat on his lap, and you looked into his blue eyes

"I got your letter, your wish will come, true believe it" Santa Claus answered, patting your head softly

"Diana, take a photo of me and Santa, please!" You asked, and she used your new camera. You and Santa look at the camera and smiled brightly

"The photos are amazing, the image has so much quality" She told you, and she took a front photo with you and Santa. She walked off, taking photos of your friends feeding the reindeer

"Thank you, Clark. For doing this for me, it means a lot to me"

You look around, watching everyone having fun. Wally was feeding the reindeer with Bruce while Hal and Arthur run around playing with the dogs and Diana recorded everything, taking photos and recording videos

"How did you know it was me?" He was shocked that you discovered that it was him underneath the fantasy

"You're the one that wasn't here, plus I heard some kids at the mall talking that Santa didn't exist, I know it. I just wanted a photo with him" You explained "I would recognize you anywhere, Clark" You state this with a shy smile

"I just wanted to make it special for you" He said flushing and avoiding your eyes

"You're making it especial" You reassured him, holding his hands and squeezing them softly

"(Y/N), are you flirting with Santa? Stop being gross!" Wally teases you

With a fast snow ball hit you sent him flying on the snow and you started a war with him, Clark was hit and joined you against Wally, your teammates joined the childish play

The team spent the day together, playing in the snow, throwing snowballs at each other, making angels on snow, riding the Santa sleigh, feeding the reindeer, and playing with the dogs. In the afternoon, your teammates and you stopped at an open café to drink hot chocolate and eat cookies

The Christmas party was reserved for some of Martha and Clark friends and the team. The dinner was delicious, and the music playing low made everything comfortable

Clark watched from a distance, Bruce teaching you how to use your camera in front of the fireplace

"Well, I guess you didn't present her with her wish, Santa" Diana jokes, watching you carefully listen to Bruce's words

"I just don't know how to do it right" He sighs deeply, feeling unsure of what to do about his feelings for you

"You're Superman. There's nothing that you can't do." She advised him patting his back, and walked towards you and Bruce. You distanced yourself, letting the two talk

That's when he approaches you. It was now or never

"(Y/N), Can we talk?" You jolted but nod in agreement

Clark walked you to a private part of the house, on the house balcony. You could feel the cold air on your face. It was freezing, but Clark seemed untouched by the cold outside

"So what happened?" Felling unquiet, you ask, embracing your arms around you, trying to stay warm

"Here, take it!" He takes off his coat, putting it on your shoulders

"Thank you" You avoid looking into his eyes. You shift your weight, trying to hide your anxiety.

He stays quiet while just looking at you. The way your hair was slightly falling in your face makes you look more beautiful, your flushed cheeks part because of the cold and other part because of his presence. He was astonished on how your presence would always lights the room and everyone seemed to love your presence. You also were using your perfume, which he particularly adores

"This is not how I planned to confess to you, but I feel if I don't do this right now, I will never have another chance" He fixes his glasses, feeling nervous. "I really like you (Y/N), the way you are genuine, honest and brave, how you love to help people, how you are gentle with my mom and our friends, you really light the room when you walk in. I love all of you. If you give me the chance, I promise I will make you happy" His words echo through your ears like a melody

"I like you too, Clark, how can I not? You've been more than amazing with me, nobody ever did what you did for me. Thank you for making my Christmas so special and magical. For always being there for me when I needed" You are thankful for having him since you joined the team. He has been so supportive and wonderful to you

You two stare at each other, enjoying comfortable silence and the cold breeze hitting your faces

He scratched his throat "(Y/N).. I have another gift for you" The way he said your name makes you feel goosebumps

"I don't have another gift for you, I'm sorry" You give him an apologetic look

"My present is standing right here" He gives his classic white teeth, looking with passion at you

He took out of his pocket a little box, it had a beautiful gold neckless and a pair of earrings. It was simple but beautiful anyway "For my very own Christmas love." His confession made your heart race

"This is beautiful, Clark," You told him, putting the earrings

He gently put the necklace on you. You thanked him shyly

"It looks like we are under the mistletoe" He looks up quickly and looks at you with a sly smirk. He did bring you here with the intention of kissing you

With a surge of confidence, you ask, "It means we have to kiss, it's the tradition, right?" You nervously look at him

"You're right, I guess you've been learning our traditions" He jokes, breaking the distance between you

The kiss was passionate, and he cupped your face, caressing your cheeks

"I guess Santa attended my wish" You giggled when you parted, resting your head on Clark's shoulders

"Thank God above." He smiles, breathing your perfume

"Finally, I thought you would never confess your feelings for each other. Can't wait to tell Hal what I just saw" Wally laughed, winking at both of you, and walked off in a flash

You groaned, imagining how Hal and him would mock you "I don't think I will stand to hear them make jokes about us without smacking their heads"

"Don't mind them" He chuckled, poking your nose then pecked your lips gently

"I guess this doesn't matter now. I got you with me" You press a tender kiss on his cheek

"I love you, Merry Christmas, Clark" You whisper brushing his hair behind

"I love you, Merry Christmas (Y/N)" He embraces you gently sharing his warmness with you

That was how occurred your first Christmas on human civilization. To be honest, you were thankful the gods could give you Clark to share your life with. Clark and you named the dogs Krypto and Bambi.

Christmas had become a tradition in the little family you are building with him. For now, it was just you, Clark, your unborn child and the dogs. Guess you couldn't ask for anything better that Christmas

[grandmother-goblin]

Field Study - Chapter 11

Ao3 - Masterlist

Chapter Summary: After waiting a day, Astarion finally gets a response from Cas.

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Tav

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 4k

Chapter Tags: Sexual content, kissing, safe word discussion, confessions, mild dirty talk.

A full day passed and Astarion still hadn’t gotten an answer from Cas. Their conversation had left him on edge. It was like he had an open wound in his chest, and Cas was the only person with the means to heal it. Yet she decided to make him wait, his heart beating out in the open. Exposed. Vulnerable.

He tried to distract himself with whatever he could think of: fletching arrows, reading that changeling detective novel, fixing a small tear in his armor. He even tried striking up a conversation with Gale of all people. Nothing seemed to make time go by faster or take his mind off of his little wood elf.

It was maddening.

So when he learned that the tieflings at the Grove wanted to throw a little celebration at the campsite, he initially welcomed the idea. It was something to occupy his time. It was also a chance to show Cas that he could behave himself in a setting where it would be completely acceptable to flirt and mingle. He was determined to be on his absolute best behavior.

But by the time the party rolled around, Astarion’s determination gave way to frustration. For more reasons than one.

First, the tieflings thought he was some sort of hero. For what? Stabbing a hobgoblin and a couple of his cronies in the dead of night? Some people would call that being a serial killer, but what did he know? The tieflings thought that he helped save them. If he did, it was completely unintentional. A mere side-effect of their mission to find a cure for the tadpole situation. Nothing more.

Second, Cas was busy socializing with everyone but him. She flitted from one conversation to the next like a hummingbird, staying just long enough to say a few words before moving on. And their companions took notice. Shadowheart even had the audacity to tease him about it. Then, as if to rub it in his face, she asked Cas to have a drink with her then the two women proceeded to chat for at least ten minutes.

Third, his wine tasted like vinegar. It was the least of his problems, but given everything else going on, it irritated him more than it should have. Still, he drank it anyway.

The party itself was fine. Not bad, but not terribly good. There was music, dancing, and plenty of drinks to go around. But there were also children present, which meant that the levels of debauchery Astarion was accustomed to at parties was practically eliminated.

Not a single person got so drunk that they took off their clothes. Or tried doing something dangerous and stupid. Or started a fist fight. Or an orgy. It was so… boring.

Astarion was never a wallflower at social events, but he couldn’t bring himself to mingle with this particular crowd. They all wanted to thank him, which would have been hilarious if it didn’t make him so uncomfortable. He wasn’t a hero, and the tieflings were idiots for thinking so. However, he had the good manners not to say anything to their faces. After all, they did bring free booze, even if it was shit.

Regardless, he had used the party as an excuse to dress up a bit. Not much, since he didn’t have his usual wardrobe on hand, but nice enough. He wore the black linen shirt that showed off a bit of his chest just because he knew Cas liked it and paired it with well-tailored trousers that tucked into his leather boots. A simple, monochromatic look that he knew looked quite striking with his complexion.

A few interested pairs of eyes had wandered his way and confirmed what he already knew. But he ignored them. It was only a few weeks ago that he would have taken those lingering glances as an invitation. After what happened with the drow, he didn’t show any interest in return. The truth was he dressed up for Cas, hoping to entice her into speaking with him, but it seemed his efforts were in vain.

Restless energy pulsed through him. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and drank deeply from his bottle of wine, but even the alcohol didn’t seem to relieve his growing tension. That tension only grew when he saw Cas laughing at something Halsin had said. And again she left to talk with Wyll in private for a moment. Astarion ground his teeth together so hard it was a miracle he didn’t snap a fang. He forced himself to look away for his own sanity, fuming.

Why the hells should he just wait around for Cas to come talk to him? Sure, he could have gone and talked to her himself, but he was stubborn. Stubborn and not willing to roll on his back and bare his belly for her again. No. If she wanted to talk to him, she would have to be the one to initiate conversation. He was tired of feeling like she held his heart in her hand, and he was far too proud to slink after her and beg for it back.

Unwilling to endure the party any longer, Astarion took his one last sip of his wine and dumped the rest into a bush. That could be his heroic deed: ridding the world of that swill they called wine. Now that was worthy of celebration.

He needed to do something other than waiting for Cas. Something to distract himself before his irritation festered and he did something stupid again.

Maybe he could hunt? It would get him away from the party and burn off some of the energy that was coiling inside him like a tight metal spring. Plus killing something usually made him feel better. It didn’t really matter that he hunted earlier in the day. Perhaps he could find something that would put up a bit of a fight. He could use the release.

As he turned to his tent so he could get changed into something more hunting appropriate, he stopped short. Only a few feet away, Cas watched him with those deep brown eyes. Curious and hesitant, but there was a familiar warmth behind them that made his undead heart quicken.

She hadn’t even dressed up for the party. Just a simple, white, sleeveless top paired the leather leggings and boots she typically wore with her armor. Her hair was down and a little messy from running around the party all night. Still, he drank in the sight of her as though she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on.

He hated how his body responded to her at that moment. The butterflies in his stomach had no business being there, but his mind couldn’t convince them to leave.

“Hey,” Cas said, her brow furrowed and a faint frown appeared on that mouth he so still so stupidly wanted to kiss. “Are you leaving?”

Yes, because you ignored me for the last hour and I’m tired of waiting around like a dog, he wanted to say. Even though she had finally come to talk to him, it was a minute too late. He was done being patient and done with not knowing where they stood.

Astarion huffed. “I’m bored, darling,” he said, his tone a mixture of exasperation and annoyance. A couple of tiefling children dancing with their parents caught his eye and Cas followed his gaze. “This really isn’t my sort of thing. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find something else to occupy my time. I need to hunt anyway.”

“Wait.” Cas’s fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist and his body electrified at that small touch.

Goosebumps crawled up his arm when he saw the look on her face. Her eyes were wide, pleading, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t quite place.

He glanced at where her fingers touched his skin but made no move to pull away. He watched her and said nothing. Waiting. Again.

Cas drew her lower lip between her teeth. “I—” A sharp breath cut between them as she straightened. “I wanted to talk to you. About you and me.”

“I’m listening,” he replied, keeping his voice flat to hide the hope that threatened to blossom in his chest. Just because she was ready to talk didn’t mean he was going to get the answer he wanted to hear.

In fact, he was almost certain that he wouldn’t like whatever she was about to say. His night was already going terribly, so what was one more disappointment?

Her fingers slipped from his wrist, and he immediately mourned the loss despite himself. The urge to reach out and touch her was strong, almost overpowering, but he resisted. She wasn’t his to touch anymore.

“Let’s…” She looked down at her boots. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private,” she said and cocked her chin toward the edge of the woods.

Astarion nodded and followed her lead, but his stomach twisted with apprehension. Truth be told, he had no idea which way the conversation was going to go, but he was already steeling himself for the worst. Just because she wanted to talk didn’t mean that she forgave him. It didn’t mean that she still wanted him the way she did before. There was a good chance that she would sever whatever romantic connection they had, and he couldn’t really blame her if she did. If the roles were reversed, he knew exactly what he would do.

But Cas had a much softer heart than he did.

They stopped at the border of the campsite, where the chatter from the party barely reached his ears and the only light came from the glow of the moon. It was quiet enough that he could hear crickets over the distant sounds of lutes, flutes, and drums.

Yet, Cas didn’t say anything for several seconds.

She picked at her short fingernails and rocked on her heels. “Thank you for giving me some time to think,” she started, her voice a little softer than normal. Almost like she didn’t trust it. “I needed a day to go over what you said. And to figure out how I felt.”

“Well, you didn’t give me much of a choice, darling,” he said, folding his arms across his chest as though he could shield his heart.

A sheepish laugh passed her lips as she continued not to look at him. “Still….”

Leaves rustled in the wind, filling the lingering silence between them. Moments passed and Cas opened her mouth once or twice to say something before ultimately changing her mind. The longer the pause went on, the further his heart sank.

She was ending it. Whatever it was that was between them, their nascent relationship; she wanted it to be over. It was the only reasonable explanation for her reticence. He swallowed the lump in his throat and his fingers dug into his shirtsleeves.

It was over. He laid his heart out on the line for nothing.

“Out with it,” Astarion bit, his impatience boiling over into anger.

Tell him he wasn’t worth the trouble. That he was nothing more than a quick fuck to distract her from the mess they were in. That nothing he said or did mattered to her. He needed her to remind him that the world was a cruel place. That anything that made him happy was bound to go up in flames. No matter how he tried to stop the fire, it would always destroy him. Bit by bit.

Hope was a dangerous thing, and Cas had given him hope. Made him think that, even for a moment, she wanted him for him. She made him believe he was worth something to her.

He was such an idiot.

Dread dripped down his spine and he mentally tried to steel himself. Cas was just like anyone else he had seduced. Just a bit of fun. Nothing serious. Certainly no one worth fretting over.

Astarion repeated the words like a mantra in his mind, trying to convince himself of it. Cas meant nothing to him, so she couldn’t hurt him. It was just flirtation and fun. Like always.

Cas gazed up at him with those deep brown eyes and sucked in a lungful of air. “I still want you.”

The words came out like it was a secret she had been trying to keep inside. A mere breath. A whisper.

And he couldn’t believe it.

For a second, he wasn’t even sure he heard her correctly. She… she still wanted him? Or did she say she didn’t want him? The more he thought about it, the less sure he was of what she actually said. The pessimist, vitriolic, part of his brain told him that he definitely misheard her. The way she had been acting didn’t make sense otherwise. Why would she have stayed away from him if she still wanted him?

He blinked at her. “What?”

“I still want you.” She wrung her hands together and averted her gaze. “I was blindsided by what happened the other day. I thought you just didn’t care, but after our talk yesterday…. If you really didn’t care, you wouldn’t have bothered.

“I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but I like you. A lot. Despite what happened. You’re clever and funny and you’re one of my favorite people to talk to. Not to mention extremely handsome, but you already knew that. I’m rambling. Anyway, if you’re still interested I would really like to continue—”

The impulse was too strong to resist. It was like the tightly wound coil deep inside him had suddenly snapped, and he couldn’t wait a second longer. Astarion clutched the back of her head and his lips crashed against hers in a rough, soul-searing, all-encompassing kiss. He wanted her too much for anything else to matter. Too much to care about whatever else she was going to say. She had said all she needed to.

A faint whimper escaped the back of her throat as her body sank against his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, anchoring herself to him. The delicate stroke of her tongue against his sent a shock of pleasure through him and a groan, almost like a growl, rumbled in his chest.

He cupped the curve of her ass and pulled her tightly against him, pressing his rapidly hardening length against her stomach. Her fingers slid into his hair as lips broke from hers, moving down to her corner of her jaw to her throat. The frantic throb of her pulse beneath his lips made his fangs ache. He wanted to bite her. To claim her again. To mark her so the whole world knew who she belonged to.

The need nearly overwhelmed him for a moment as his fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her head back until her throat was completely bared to him. Cas’s breath hitched when his teeth closed gently against the tender flesh of her neck. Just a nip. Not hard enough to pierce the skin, no matter how desperately he craved it. He wouldn’t bite her without permission.

Because he wanted her. Damn it to the Hells, he wanted her. Blood, body, and soul.

At that moment, everything he had been worried about had vanished. It was just him and her. Nothing else seemed to matter when she was in his arms, and he would take every second of peace he could get.

The tip of his tongue soothed over the faint mark he left on her throat, the salt of her skin as exquisite as fine wine. “Darling, I want to bite you,” he said into the cove of her neck as his hips rocked against hers once, trying to relieve the ache he felt for her. “I miss seeing my mark on your neck.”

“Maybe I’ll let you make another,” Cas replied a little breathlessly. “You said you needed to hunt tonight anyways. Why not hunt me?”

Astarion loosened his grip in her hair, smoothing his fingers over her scalp down to her nape. “Hunt you?” he asked as he pressed a lingering kiss against a pulse point just below her jaw.

“Yeah,” she said, almost a little shyly. Like she couldn’t quite believe what she was asking for. “Not for real, obviously. But like a game. I’ll pack up some things and wander off into the woods. All alone. Far away from camp. Then you’ll come find me.”

The thought of stalking her, catching her, and overpowering her appealed to him on the most primal level. Excitement swelled in his chest. In all his years, he had never been asked to hunt someone before. At least, not like this. Not by someone who knew what he was and what he was capable of.

Vampires were hunters by nature. They had to be. Most people would never subject themselves to a vampire's bite willingly, regardless of the risk of being turned. And most vampires would never let their victims live. Especially the ones they chased down or seduced with the sole purpose of feeding. It was simply a risk most vampires couldn’t afford to take. Loose ends and all of that. The fact that Cas was asking this of him….

His hand lowered on her backside, giving the firm flesh a little squeeze. “You trust me to not go too far?”

A small gasp passed her lips when his fingers curved around high on her inner thigh. “Of course I do,” she said. “You didn’t go too far before.”

Before Cas had held a knife to his throat as he bit her. Before was his very first time drinking the blood of a thinking creature. Before he hadn’t cared enough about her to truly worry about losing control. But none of that seemed worth mentioning at that moment.

For her to place her trust in him like this…. He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to unpack the feelings that it stirred up deep in his core. It wasn’t the right time, and he was far from ready.

Instead, he kissed her before she could say anything else that made him feel things he wasn’t ready to feel. His tongue searched the inside her mouth with delicate strokes, the kind meant to keep her wanting more. When he drew a soft, pleading moan from the back of her throat he pulled away, smiling as her mouth tried to follow his.

Her pupils were blown wide as he stared into her eyes, searching. Trying to find even the slightest bit of hesitation. But he found nothing but desire and longing.

He held her chin and dragged his thumb over the center of her lower lip. “Will you run from me when I find you?”

Cas arched into him, putting delicious pressure on his cock and he stifled a groan. It was like every contour of her body perfectly reconciled with his. Like she was made to fit against him. “Only if you don’t stop me.”

Already, he was thinking of ways he could do that. How he could hold her body against his, how he could pin her down, maybe even tie her up. The yellow ribbon she had used to wrap up his portrait came to mind. How pretty that would look wrapped around her wrists. The possibilities were endless, and he wanted to explore each and every one. Maybe not that night, but eventually.

His lips brushed against her ear, sending goosebumps down her arms despite the warm night air. “And what happens when I catch you?” he whispered against her heated skin. “Are you going to fight me, darling?”

“Just a little.” Her breath caught when he kissed the side of her throat, working his way down the juncture of her neck and collarbone. “Not hard enough to hurt you. Besides, I don’t think I’ll want to fight you for very long anyway.”

“And why’s that?” Astarion touched his tongue to her pulse, smiling at the shiver it sent down her spine.

The soft gust of her breath feathered against his ear. “Because I think I’ll like getting caught by you.”

He wanted to say he had already caught her. After all, she was in his arms, willing and wanting. Despite everything. Despite his own foolishness and insecurities. Despite how he had tried so hard to resist her. Despite how he knew that what they had couldn’t last. The gods and the universe would never let him keep her.

But he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“So I’ll catch you and subdue you,” he said as he continued trailing kissing along her neck. “What will I get for all my hard work?”

“What would you want?”

A shudder went through her when he licked a stripe from her collarbone to the corner of her jaw. “I’m picturing you on your hands and knees, darling,” he said, his lips brushing against her ear. “Begging for my cock. But the moment I give it to you is the moment I sink my fangs into your pretty little neck. Mixing pleasure with pain. How does that sound?”

Cas made a pleased humming sound as she pressed herself into him ever so slightly like she was trying to feel what he had promised. “I think we should ditch the party.”

Astarion lifted his head and stared into her eyes again. With a little burst of tenderness that seemed to come out of nowhere, he brushed a loose lock of her silky hair behind her ear. She already had a darkened spot on her neck from where he nipped her, but it would fade quickly.

And he wanted to make a few marks that would last for days.

Anticipation glimmered in her dark eyes, but it was the smile on her lips that nearly had him undone. It had only been a few seconds, but he already missed the sensual heat of her mouth against his.

His hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. She leaned into his touch, affectionate. Trusting.

“Before we do this,” he said, “how do you want to let me know if I am too rough or if I go too far? Because I won’t be nearly as restrained as I was last time.”

“Maybe a safeword?”

“Probably a good idea with these sorts of games.” He held her chin between his thumb and index finger. “I’ll let you pick it since it’ll be the last decision you make with me this evening.”

Cas bit her lower lip, but a smile pulled at the corners anyways. It was... adorable. He wasn’t sure the last time he found someone cute in a non-condescending way. It was like she was so excited to be with him, she could hardly contain it.

The way she looked up at him through her lashes lit a spark low in his stomach. There was something more than lust and anticipation in her eyes, something he couldn’t quite place, but it made him want to smile back at her.

She placed her hands on his chest, the heat of her palms like a brand through his thin shirt. Gently, she pushed herself away. “Merlot,” she said as she took a few steps backward with a bright grin on her face.

“Merlot,” he repeated back to her.

Cas took another step backwards in the direction of the party. “Give me an hour to say goodnight to people and get ready.”

“I’m not waiting an hour, darling.”

“Forty-five minutes?”

“Ten.”

“Thirty.”

“Twenty,” he said. “Any longer and you’ll be getting a spanking when I catch you.”

Cas covered her mouth with one hand and gasped in mock offense. “Oh no. I wouldn’t want that.”

Well with that tone, he definitely had to spank her now.

“Nineteen,” he said.

She flashed him one more smile before she turned around and jogged back to camp. He watched her disappear into her tent before he started back himself. The moment she left camp, the hunt would be on.

And he could hardly wait.

---

Beginning

Previous Chapter

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[i-can-even-burn-salad]

for merry - favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

for josephine - change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

for cedric - alternate: What would your OC's alternate universe look be? If they're a fantasy character, what's their modern look? If they're sci-fi, what's their fantasy look? What AU would you want to see your OC in, and how would they dress themself? Bonus: Prompt an AU!

Thank you for the ask! From this ask game <3

for merry - favorite:

No such thing for Merridy. There isn’t much that survived *looks at chapters that are upcoming and snaps mouth shut* everything :)

The few objects she’s attached to are neither clothes nor accessories.

I still haven’t decided if Cedric lets her keep the glow ring she, uh, borrowed for her first heist :p

for josephine - change:

The biggest change, even if not “full time”, was getting her own armor at the end of Heal my Wounds. It’s to tell herself that now she’ll do what she dreamed of, instead of what her parents wanted for her. She’d obviously only wear that when out on a mission, though.

Her casual clothes didn’t change, though ever since the accident, she basically banned all clothes with short sleeves from her wardrobe. Not that there were many before.

for cedric - alternate: 

Honestly, I can’t see hm changing his looks much. He could be the eccentric antique shop owner in fine coats and with a love for gems anywhere from fantasy to urban to scifi. He’d stare you straight in the eye with your silly genre and walk into a tailor shop to get his shit custom made.

[utt-a]

Is it too late to join tiddy tuesday? 

[commanderadorkable]

WIP Wednesday

I have something to share! I wasn't tagged by anyone but I'm playing.

There's a ball at Skyhold and Dorian somehow convinces the Commander he *must* attend.

Snippet and tags under the cut.

________________

“You need to go.” Dorian said to him as he sat dramatically in the chair across from Cullen’s desk.

It was the tenth time Cullen had shot Dorian down in just as many minutes. He simply had too much to do to entertain the idea of going to this ball Josephine had insisted the Inquisition host. The idea of mingling with more nobles set his skin alight. 

“I don’t.” Cullen shot back, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

“Now, Commander, hear me out.” Dorian tsked and rested his chin on his laced fingers, “You are too quick to dismiss what could provide you an excellent opportunity to relax.”

“I’m fine.” Cullen ground out, trying to focus on the reports in front of him and not the headache pounding behind his eyes.

“Now you’re just being obstinate... No one even needs to know who you are. Plus, it will allow you the opportunity to finally confess to our beautiful Lady Seer just how you feel about her." Dorian offered with a smirk.

Cullen laid down the report on his desk and looked up at his friend.

The last time he had tried to tell Lauren how he felt had ended in disaster. And it seemed every time he tried to tell her how he felt it ended in disaster. Would this time be any different?

No.

He studied Dorian for a moment longer, “I've tried. She...doesn't feel the same," he said simply. 

"I don't believe that for one second." Dorian waved his hand in dismissal, "At any rate, maybe you can get her to confess under the guise of anonymity?"

Cullen opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again as Dorian's words sunk in.

He had been the one, both times, to make the first move. Maybe if he could get her to open up to him, they could move forward. Sure, it felt a lot like lying…but what was the saying? Ask for forgiveness later? He seemed to be an expert at that. 

Sighing, he levelled a look at Dorian, "Don't make me regret this."

Dorian beamed and clapped his hands together in excitement.

“Wonderful! Now, I do hope you have something to wear other than that bear pelt you’ve taken a liking to?” Dorian stood from his chair and wandered over to the wardrobe kept in the far corner of Cullen’s office.

Cullen watched, as Dorian pulled open the doors of the wardrobe and started rummaging through the scarce options available.

“Ah! These should do nicely.” The mage said as he pulled out a long black overcoat with silver trimming in one hand and a light gray linen shirt in the other.

“That was my father’s. Put it back.” Cullen said instantly.

He had actually just received them from Mia in a package not long after they had settled in at Skyhold. She had said something along the lines of you could use these more than Bran, or something else just as asinine. 

“No, I don’t think I shall.” Dorian smirked at him, as he held up the coat. His eyes flicking between Cullen and the garments.

Dorian waltzed back over to Cullen’s desk and gave him a pointed look. 

“Well?” He said, waving at Cullen’s armor with impatience.

They stared each other down for a moment before Dorian finally won out and Cullen moved to take off his armor. 

“Shirt too, dear.” Dorian sassed him.

Cullen rolled his eyes and removed his undershirt. Dorian handed the gray shirt over to him first and Cullen swiftly put it on. He tucked the hem into the black breeches he was already wearing and then held his hand out to Dorian for his father’s overcoat. He swung the coat around his shoulders and was pleased to find it fit perfectly. 

Dorian looked him up and down, “Are you sure you still only prefer ladies?”

“Dorian.” Cullen scolded as he felt the blush creep up his neck. 

"You think so little of me. I'm truly wounded." Dorian out the back of his hand on his forehead in feigned hurt.

Cullen finished buttoning up the jacket as Dorian produced an all black mask to perfectly match his coat.

“By the looks of it, I would say you've had this planned the whole time.” Cullen mock scowled at his friend. 

Cullen took the mask from Dorian and secured it to his face. He stepped over to the bookcase where he kept his shaving mirror to inspect himself.

Cullen was pleasantly surprised at his appearance. His father’s jacket wasn’t too tight and tapered like he had it tailored just for him. He tried to remember a time he might have seen his father wear this, but came up short.

The silhouette of the black jacket and black breeches created an air of mystery coupled with the black mask now secured to his face.

“Almost there.” Dorian said, scrutinizing Cullen’s face, “You’re still too recognizable. Ah! You don’t mind, do you dear?” The mage said waving around Cullen’s face.

“Now, I must go and change myself. Oh, make sure you lean into your charming Ferelden accent and no one shall be the wiser, Commander!” Dorian said as he walked out of the door.

Cullen rolled his eyes and shook his head. With a few flicks of his wrist Dorian changed the color of his hair to brown and his lip scar had disappeared.

“Now, it’s a simple illusion charm. Should last you a few hours, plenty of time to woo our Lady Seer. If you find you've accomplished your mission before the charm wears off, Lauren knows how to remove it.” Dorian smiled at him.

Cullen turned back to the mirror taking in his changed appearance. He felt his nerves beginning to coil in his stomach. Was he doing the right thing? Should he even be doing this? Maker, what was he thinking?

Before he could talk himself out of it, he strode out his door to the far reaching battlement that would lead him to the lower courtyard. Better to make it seem like he was coming in with the other throngs of people than coming straight from his office. 

As he neared the last steps of the battlements he saw just how truly packed Skyhold was. 

Swallowing the rising bile and anxiety, he strode forward into what he was certain would be his death. 

Tagging @wardenari (even though I know you’ve posted yours :P ) @kemvee @wardenrainwall and @pavusprince

[lovelyirony]

I just came here to say, can you imagine after endgame Sharon finds Nat's white suit in her belongings and decides to wear it and make it her own as a reminder of what she lost and what is left to fight for?

When Sharon Carter first came to SHIELD, she wanted to be just like the other agents. 

And yet that was hard for her. It was hard to act like every other agent because she wasn’t like the other agents and they knew it. 

She had someone in the organization before her. That’s why she was Agent 13. There were always members of family, but it was usually only the agents that either posed an individual danger or a family danger that got the number. 

In the first two weeks, the rookies had figured out that Sharon and Peggy shared the same harsh gaze when they were frustrated. 

They scorned her, leaving her to fend for herself. 

“You got in because of Carter,” they sneer. “I’d rather have someone who actually earned their spot.” 

“Even if that did happen, do you think my aunt would’ve let me into this profession if I wasn’t as skilled as you?” Sharon fires back. “I can finish this mission in twenty minutes on my own if I really wanted to.” 

“Then do it,” Agent Riker bites, smirking. “Go ahead and prove yourself, Thirteen.” 

Nineteen minutes and twenty-two seconds. 

And she does it all in a white t-shirt and jeans, the worst outfit that could’ve been. 

“So what, you’ve proved yourself,” they shrug. “Doesn’t make a difference to us.” 

So Sharon scraps the idea of having people who are friends at work, friends that she can talk to and go to the bar with after work. 

And then she does perhaps the ballsiest move. 

She orders a custom white jumpsuit. 

The SHIELD tailor laughs. He’s an old man who goes by the name Joe. 

“You’re crazy,” he tells her, sweeping a measuring tape across her shoulders. “Maybe they need a little crazy.” 

Sharon nods, looking at herself in the mirror. 

She shows up to work in white, ponytail out of the way. 

Fury gives her a look. 

“Really, Thirteen?” 

“Everyone’s already criticizing,” Sharon answers. “Why not get some for the suit as well?” 

White really is her color. It’s what she’s known for, and a lot of agents still criticize her for it. 

“You trying to show off even more?” one sneers. 

“Why would I have to after your last mission?” Sharon answers sweetly. “It’s clear to me that you obviously need more tips on how to be inconspicuous.” 

It’s bitchy. She knows that. But she also can’t be bothered to give a shit if they’re judging her by family and not by skill. 

And then Black Widow. 

Natasha Romanoff takes one look her and scoffs. 

“Got something to say?” Sharon asks. 

“I don’t get the white suit.” 

“You will,” Sharon responds. “Just wait.” 

Romanoff hears the rumors. Sharon Carter only got into the organization because of her connection to her great-aunt. 

“You really think SHIELD would be that stupid?” She asks Agent Riker. “To hire an agent off a basis of family? I thought they hired people smarter than you.” 

Sharon’s surprised. 

She also makes her first friend. 

Natasha Romanoff is deadly, has horrible humor, and wears fun socks after Sharon takes her to get some color in her wardrobe. 

“You cannot tell anyone,” Nat makes her swear. 

“Who is there to tell?” Sharon asks, grinning. “Besides Clint.” 

“Clint doesn’t count, I’m not even sure if he’s human. He ate a paper plate because he was too tired to differentiate it from the pizza in the fridge.” 

“I love that man,” Sharon deadpans. “I think if I ever dated men, he would be my type.” 

Natasha laughs. 

They’re friends. Sharon’s there with coffee in the rough mornings and Natasha is there with words that have lost their edge as she sheds her reputation at the door. 

- 

The Avengers is a new thing for Natasha. She loves it because she tells Sharon that it makes her feel like she finally has a family and she’s doing something that’s worthy. 

Sharon ignores the jealousy and envy and sadness burning in her gut as she takes a sip of her wine glass and asks Natasha how it is working with Captain America. 

(She knows who he is. She’s always known. But that kind of connection is one that she’s not sure she’ll ever flaunt because Steve does not know that she knows Steve.) 

Natasha gets more involved with the Avengers and still texts Sharon, but she knows. This friendship is fading and Sharon turns back to a white jumpsuit lying on the couch when she gets home and gets out of her shower. 

Natasha can’t make it to lunch. Or dinner. And their shopping trip gets cancelled by an Avengers mission. 

Then Sharon loses SHIELD, which in some cases was everything to her. It’s the last connection to family, to a place where Sharon did what she did best: her job. 

And now it’s razed to the ground and the Avengers are still there and Natasha--

She has her hands full. 

Sharon bitterly looks up at the sky to see the Iron Man armor and for a brief moment, hates the team that has taken her friend from her. 

But Sharon has shit to do. She has to decide if she wants to work for the FBI or CIA, and which one can offer her more security. 

CIA agents don’t give a singular shit if she came from SHIELD or what her last name means. They’re mostly concerned with making sure that the Congress and the Senate don’t fuck everything up and that they catch whoever the hell is eating all of the leftovers on the third floor fridge. 

Sharon gets paid for this. Real, actual money. 

And they know that she’s good and they send her on protection missions and she misses Natasha’s calls and she doesn’t feel quite bad about it. 

It’s when she’s assigned to survey Germany because some idiot used facial recognition software and Steve’s making boneheaded decisions that she reconnects with Natasha. 

“Your hair got longer,” Natasha says. 

“Nice of you to notice,” Sharon says tersely. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re about to be in? You won’t be able to go anywhere.” 

“Anywhere, really?” Natasha asks, amused. “I’m sure I can think of someone who would welcome me back with open arms.” 

“Clint doesn’t count,” Sharon fires back. 

“Not who I meant.” 

“I know exactly what you meant,” Sharon says. “No calling, no plans, all of it cancelled. You’re a family kind of girl, Nat.” 

“You’re part of it.” 

Sharon turns, incredulous. “Really. You’re doing this now?” 

Sharon knows Natasha like she knows her apartment. She could walk it with her eyes closed. And she knows that Natasha is never this open, not in public. 

“Either you’ve changed how you approach your emotions or you’ve gotten sloppy in how you manipulate people,” Sharon says, casual as can be. “I know that you want to go against this. I understand that because chances are later on down the road this will blow up in your face.” 

“And now you’re going to pretend like you didn’t slip that file to Steve?” Natasha accuses. 

“I slipped it to Steve because as much as I don’t like this, I don’t want an innocent man to die,” Sharon hisses. 

She has her white jumpsuit. But she hangs it up in her closet because for something like what they’re planning, she can’t afford to be in white. This isn’t like the twenty minute missions. 

And then it gets more serious and she’s fighting like hell against Thanos and his aliens and the fact that everyone is gone. 

But not Natasha. Not she’s still on this earth and Sharon knows it kills her because she’s never thought she was enough for that. 

They make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and sit on the floor in a sunroom. It’s a beautiful day, probably one too beautiful for how many memories they both hold. 

“I don’t know if it’ll be okay,” Natasha says. Her voice is thick with unsaid and unheard emotion, and Sharon pulls her into a hug. 

“It might not be,” Sharon says quietly. “But we’ll have to keep going anyway.” 

So Sharon is introduced to Steve, the guy with a beard who still keeps fighting and looks at Sharon as if he’s expecting someone else. (She pretends like she doesn’t know what he’s doing.) 

She starts looking at sightings and patterns and helps people who she’s never met help keep the world safe. 

Natasha and Sharon tell stories to each other of people they’ve known. Sharon listens as she grieves and Natasha finds out that Sharon’s own family has been gone. 

They spend Christmas together and Christmas kind of sucks right now because everyone is crying and the only thing that’s sold out at stores are tissues. 

Sharon wonders if Tony got dusted. No one knows. He was up in space and they haven’t found him yet and she can’t say it doesn’t hurt. 

But then. He comes down in his spaceship, Carol Danvers finding him on the verge of death. 

He can’t stand the sight of Steve, and Sharon can’t say he blames him. She’s in charge of getting him to in-house care and making sure he doesn’t stray off the nutrition goal. 

Pepper and Rhodey sit by his side all the time and they give Sharon looks because she’s Tony’s cousin but not really, not in the sense of a traditional cousin. 

She met him that one time when he was probably a little bit buzzed, definitely over having small children look up to him and ask if they can have him play, and probably brushed her off. 

Or something. 

He’s angry with Steve and tells Sharon right off the bat that he refuses to have anything to do with what’s going on. 

“This is my second chance and as shitty as it is for all of you, I’m keeping it,” Tony says firmly. 

Sharon says okay because she really can’t blame him. 

(Not when six months after he gets back and gets himself better, Pepper announces that she’s expecting.) 

Sharon visits often. She brings Pepper her first supply of diapers and formula and Pepper smiles and says she’s welcome for lunch if she’d like. 

Natasha doesn’t talk to Tony. Sharon thinks she kind of resents her own position in this whole thing, but Tony nods to her and they understand each other on a level that’s changed. 

“Do you think you’ll ever want a family?” Natasha asks one night. They watch the stars and come up with new names for them and sometimes talk about emotions. Like tonight. 

“I’m not made for that,” Sharon says. “Work and all.” 

“Me either.” 

Sharon looks at her. 

“No, you are. Because you care so much. You just learned it a little bit differently. You’ll get your family, Nat.” 

Natasha gives her that pained smile, the one that holds so much wisdom and hurt in it, and they drink their beers in silence as Sharon contemplates the next mode of questioning that doesn’t have to do with loss or the future. (Possibility: cats.) 

And then Scott Lang makes a fucking appearance. They’re not sure how, but he gets out and starts rambling about time travel and they take it to Tony who says “no thank you and goodbye” and Steve tries to get him to help but he won’t. 

(It’s bitter in Sharon’s mouth, but it’s the kind of bitter you understand that you can’t spit out.) 

Natasha thinks about all the people that are lost. 

Sharon asks Scott how well he can do math. 

Tony passes along a note, and it seems that Scott gets it, because they’re going to time-travel. 

Clint and Natasha leave together, because they’re like two peas in a pod. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Natasha says, grinning. Her smile is so nice. 

“You better,” Sharon teases. “We still need Margarita Mondays.” 

And then Sharon is also gone on a mission to go see her aunt and see Steve witness what he’s lost. Sharon looks at a young picture of her great-uncle. 

“She had a good life, didn’t she?” Sharon murmurs. “She got to have somebody she loved and she got to have kids.” 

“Yes, yes she did,” Steve says quietly. 

It’s heavy for him but he relaxes and they run into Howard Stark, who doesn’t quite understand why Sharon’s there but doesn’t really push it because he’s excited for a new baby. 

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for that baby,” he says with a gentle smile that’s so fake Sharon can’t believe it. 

So she says something. Because she can’t keep her mouth shut. 

“You practice that every night in front of the mirror?” 

Steve scolds her, but she thinks it’s worth it. She can’t wait to tell Natasha. 

- 

Natasha doesn’t come back. She died for a fucking rock and Sharon breaks because that was her friend. That was someone that she would’ve given the world for, and now she won’t get to tell her about her sick one-liner or about how time travel kind of feels like you’re going on a loopy roller coaster. 

She’s gone. 

But then Sharon can’t focus on it because she has to fight against Thanos who apparently is from a different time zone and has come to destroy everything again, and Sharon really can’t let Tony do his whole “self-sacrifice” shtick he pulls. (Jesus, if he couldn’t have just pulled a Dean Martin maybe they would’ve had televised roasts instead of a universal fight...) 

Tony doesn’t die. She doesn’t think he deserves that. But he falls to his knees, the stones fading, and she’s holding him to stabilize him as he falls and his family comes and he gets rushed to the nearest medical facility Dr. Cho can find. 

And Sharon is alone. 

She doesn’t particularly like being alone in this instance but sometimes you have to be because those are the cards out of the deck. 

So she helps relocate families, tells those who were gone the news, and buys herself a pint of ice cream. The news is talking about all these new accommodations and what it’ll do to the price market. She finds that she doesn’t much care and she thinks that all those conversations will be a thing of the past. 

And there things to go through. Things from the dead. Clint has his family to focus on, and so it is up to Sharon to get Natasha’s things. 

Then she finds it. 

A white jumpsuit. 

Natasha had called Sharon’s “stupid” for years, with no real explanation to why except for the fact that she would get caught easier. 

(“Maybe that’s my intention,” Sharon says, body leaning in too close. “Maybe I want to get noticed so that I can get it done quicker.” 

Natasha gives her a dim smile. 

“Doesn’t always mean you get the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible.” 

And then Sharon didn’t ask her about that. Figured it wasn’t her place.) 

A white jumpsuit is something she didn’t know connected them. And she remembers having her own, but this one...this one has to be used. Has to be reinstated because someone needs to carry on who Black Widow is. Or rather, who Natasha Romanoff was. 

It’s a slow start. But Sharon starts wearing the white jumpsuit that’s a little bit loose around the shoulders and looks for criminals, because god knows there will be a plethora of those. 

Bucky and Sam join her in this. They were both gone and still look stupidly gorgeous, although Sam has the shield because Steve has decided it would be utterly convenient to go on a little time travel trip. 

(Sharon’s not sure what’s up with that, but so long as she doesn’t start remembering a Great-Uncle Steve, she’s fine with it.) 

It’s hard, definitely. Because sometimes she pulls out her phone to send something to Natasha, and she’s...well. She’s not there. 

Sharon will sometimes wear her old jackets with outfits and cry, but she still has the memories. 

A cute white jumpsuit can’t hurt either. 

[lunarfanfics]

Jade & Sapphire

Words: 4712

Pair: Eren Jaeger & Annie Leonhardt

Time Skip | Marley AU. PART 3 of THIS fic! It took awhile. But part 3 got pretty long, so I cut it into 4 parts instead. ANYWHO! Enjoy this continuation!

[Fanfic.Net] & [Ao3]

WAVER PT. III

Time was of the essence. Upon leaving the pier, Annie had Thirty-two hours to come up with a plan. She now had twenty-four hours to set the plan into motion.

And counting down.

The day ran its course, hour after hour passed by. The crack of dawn was spent running drills for the young warriors to keep them in shape. As the morning came by, Annie had gotten a hold of Pieck, claiming she needed the cart girl for a special mission.

The ‘mission’ in retrospect just turned out to be that Annie had need of Pieck’s womanly advice in shopping for more enticing clothing. Pieck had reminded her it was against the Marley regiment to be seen out of their standard warrior uniform when out in town. Yet she still gave some decent tips involving fashion. Though Pieck herself wasn't much of a shopaholic either. Her taste in casual clothing often involved long ankle length skirts, stark white blouses and boots. That wasn’t exactly too far off from their own dull standard uniform style.

If there was a way, Annie would have longed to contact her old roommate Hitch Dreyse of the Military Police and ask her for advice regarding quality feminine fashion.

After all, that was an ingredient to the scheme she was cooking. To capture the eyes, to draw away attention. Feed into the obliviousness as to not alert her prey. What better way to do that than to use her own body? It was all part of the plan.

Annie Leonhardt was not above luring in naive men like a black widow does its meals by flaunting her femininity, or feigning innocence for that matter. It was one way to get what she wanted without breaking arms. Though she found she lacked the charismatic charm many young women so often do have; she made up for it with a more salacious wardrobe to tease and taunt. Never too touch, however. She would never stoop that low.

In the end, many men only wanted one thing after all.  

But Eren is different.

Annie crinkled her nose at the sight of a tacky blouse patterned in seashells. She moved the blouse to the side, sifting through the rack of clothing for something to catch the eye.

Well… Maybe not so different. He does want something from me. My loyalty.

Pondering, Annie fingered the sleeve of a cashmere pullover. The material was softer than any of the clothes she owned. Though she grimaced when she caught sight of the outrageous price written on the slip of paper dangling from the hem.

He thinks I’m easy to manipulate. He thinks just because I showed some sympathy for his people I would willingly join his side.

She had mulled over his words after that meeting. What did it matter that she spared a couple of lives in Paradise when she had killed hundreds more? In fact, what did it matter to him?

Annie shook her head, losing interest in the line of colorful blouses and sweaters. She moved about the small shop, squeezing through racks of polished leather shoes and fake pearls. But nothing caught her eye.

Pieck came burrowing out a thicket of frilly skirts than, a bit clumsily on her crutch. She smoothed the stray away tendrils of her long black hair that had gotten stuck on a button. The cart girl’s hair tended to get caught in anything. Annie folded her arms, nodding to the dark silky bundle Pieck clutched to her chest with one arm.

“What’s that you got there?”

Pieck only smiled, she held her arm up, unfolding the garment. It rippled like waves down to her ankles, a navy color greeted Annie’s eye. The dress looked decent; the sleeves stopped halfway down the forearm, the top was loose with a low neckline. And the skirt was cinched at the waist, it wasn’t too long, nor too short. Annie at least wouldn’t have to get it tailored to suit her height.

She gave Pieck a nod of approval. “Not bad.”

“Thought you might like it.” Pieck held out the dress, dropping it into Annie’s awaiting arms.

“Not to be intrusive, Vice Commander. I know you said you wanted to look for more flirty styles. But you yourself aren’t a very flirtatious person. It begs me to wonder who exactly it is you are looking to impress, hm?”

Annie rolled her eyes, turning her back to the cart girl in search of the shop owner. “That’s none of your business.”

“Aw.” Pieck pouted. “Well, if you don’t tell me I’d just have to assume you’re playing dress-up for Reiner.”

Annie made a noise of disgust, to which Pieck giggled at.

She ignored Pieck’s japes after finding the shop owner. Annie had tried on the dress, and confirmed it was indeed a good fit. After she changed, she’d paid the shop owner the dresses full price; which was unfortunately half of the large sum she made as her rank of Vice Commander. It was even more expensive than that cashmere pullover.

Annie knew even Hitch would balk at this. But silk wasn’t cheap, and it especially wasn’t cheap for Eldians’.

Though it shouldn’t matter to her. Money being spent on frivolous things.

It’s all according to her plan. She will avoid engaging Eren in a fight. She will distract him, feed into his ideals of her joining his cause. She will keep him at the Seaport for as long as she could.

He will never board that train to Liberio.

Annie was going to make sure of that.

~*~*~

The Market’s only liquor shop closed during the afternoons. Annie had to meet with Reiner and the young warriors for lunch at a quarter to 13:00. But she had sent Colt to make her order with the old man that tended there. Colt was skittish at first. This districts law was different from that of Liberios when it came to alcohol. They prohibited those under the age of 18 to purchase alcohol under the suspicion that they might try to make off with it across the heavily guarded waters.

Though the old man was an Eldian himself. And Sometimes when the Marleyian authorities were out of earshot, he complained that his eyes were so bad, he couldn’t tell a young adult from an elder.

Her order was quite a popular drink. Marleys’ own special brew of red wine. Made up of fresh black grapes from the farms they’d hijacked from Eldian families in the far country side. Annie had tried it before though. Not being a fan of alcohol, she thought the taste was mediocre at best.

Perhaps Eren would think differently.

Annie waited outside the luncheon Café for Colt to arrive with her wine. She leaned against the boarded windows with Reiner accompanying her. He sat to her left on the bench by the front doors, and held a tin can of boiling lemon tea, occasionally taking sips. The inner skin of his palms was tinged a brighter red than tomato. Annie knew the tea must’ve been scalding him, yet Reiner had no reaction to it.

He welcomes the pain. It keeps him awake, reminds him he’s still alive.

She made no attempt to start a conversation with him. It always ended the same way. She didn’t like looking at his pathetic state. It made her feel almost guilty if she stared at him too long, and she believed she had no right to start sympathizing with him, yet.

From Inside the Café Annie heard Gabi’s proud piercing voice, the young cadet was going on about how she had destroyed the Mid-East Union’s armored train with a homemade bomb she concocted. It’s only the 25th time Annie had heard the story since they had gotten back from the trench. Annie doesn’t understand why Gabi was thrilled to offer herself as a willing sacrifice for a foolhardy plan. Though it worked, it was still reckless.

And stupid.

She wondered what a meeting between Gabi and a young Eren would’ve been like.

Like two stones scraping against each other perhaps. Emitting spark after spark, until they get a fire going. But that fire would slowly grow too big because, as reckless beings, the two would just keep fanning it until that fire became wildfire. And that wildfire would slowly spread and consume any and everything in its way.

In short, they’re both obtrusive, quick-to-fiery people. But that was a meeting only in theory; if she were to compare Gabi, and the Eren she was forced to follow less than a day ago. There wouldn’t be as much similarities. In fact, Eren never truly came off as being enraged at her. Maybe irritated.

Though he was certainly forward…

Annie’s mind came to that not-so kiss he’d given her before she fled. She tsk’d, turning her face away from Reiner so he wouldn’t spot the embarrassing blush that adorned her cheeks. Not that he’d notice anything within a foot of him these days.

“Hey, Miss Leonhardt!”

A voice called out. Both Reiner and Annie swiveled their heads to the owner of that voice—a tall, fair-haired young soldier who was running up to them, clutching a brown paper bag to his chest.

Colt was out of breath once he stopped short of his small Vice Commander. “Hey—” He coughed, trying to catch his breath, “—I got your wine.”

He held the paper bag out to her by the handle of the wine bottle inside. Annie took it by placing her hand on the bottom of the bottle first. She spared a glace to the contents inside to ensure it was exactly what she asked for.

“The bottle is smaller than I expected.”

“The old man told me It’s a little less than the standard size, seven-hundred fifty millimeters, but that’s the kind of bottle you get for the amount of money you gave.” Colt explained as courteous as he possibly could. He had always been intimidated by the little Vice Commander more so than Reiner, and the Warrior Chief, Zeke.

Annie sighed. “This’ll do then. Thank you, Colt.”

Colt gave a nod to Reiner. “What’s that you got there?”

“Tea.” Reiner muttered.

“Ah. So, are you guys going to have your own celebration too?”

Annie shared a glance with Reiner, who shrugged in response. She turned to Colt, drumming her fingers on the wine. “This is our celebration, I guess. Some peace and quiet, it’s too rowdy in there.”

Colt chuckled, “Yeah they’re pretty loud, huh.” He shuffled his feet a bit, looking every bit apprehensive as his light-colored eyes darted from the front doors of the café, to his superiors.

“Erm- Ahem—Miss Leonhardt?”

“You can just call me Annie, Colt. Only the kids address me Miss Leonhardt, and you’re hardly a kid.”

The cadet jumped, a pink hue adorned his pale cheeks. “Right! Heheh, it’s just you’re the Vice Commander and I well— never mind!” He shook his head frantically. “I just—I just wanted to give my thanks to you… for training me, that is.”

Colt sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know I’m not a quick learner, but I’ve been getting the hang of the techniques you’ve taught me. I’m hoping to put all your teachings into good use when I acquire the Beast titan.”

Annie stared quizzically at him for a moment. Colt swallowed under her piercing blue gaze.

“Yes well,” She nodded after a couple of seconds, “See that you do. I don’t always dedicate my free time to training soldiers who aren’t my priority.”

Colt grinned at that, pulling up the sleeve of his uniform. “Don’t worry, I will!” He flashed her the underside of his forearm; his sheet pale skin was littered with purple and green faded marks. Courtesy of the Vice Commander herself.

But he seemed proud to bare them. “I didn’t earn these bruises for nothing,” Colt rolled his sleeve back down. “Those kicks of yours really hurt, and you grapple way too hard, sometimes I feel like I’m going to pass out from it.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

Colt laughed again. “I suppose so. Well that’s all I wanted to say. I’ll see you guys later! I promised Porco I’d make up to him by buying him lunch this time.”

“Try not throwing up on anybody.” Annie called out after him. Colt flushed, ducking his head as he entered the café. The doors opened, noise erupted from within—then the doors swung shut behind him, quickly muffling the racket.

Annie took her place against the boarded the windows. Still drumming her fingers against the wrapped wine bottle.

Eren said the same thing to me once too… Didn’t he? During our trainee days…

“You trained with Colt?”

Reiner’s gruff disused voice almost startled her. Almost.

She shrugged. “I trained Colt, for some time. Yes.”

Reiner sipped his chilled tea once, then asked. “Why?”

“Why not?” Annie rubbed her temple, feeling the feather light fingers of déjà vu prod at her brain. A conversation had started like this between them years ago, hadn’t it? It almost seemed like she was a trainee again, back on Paradise Island, back within the walls. Back with the 104th squadron. In that memory she had bitterly answered, “Because you threw the idiot my way.”

In the here, and now. She only sighed, “He asked me too. And Zeke isn’t the best at hand to hand combat. Colt will be at a disadvantage if the only thing he picks up from the Chief is how to pitch a ball.”

Reiner made an airy sound, like a laugh but not quite. “… You know sometimes I see them when I look at the others.”

Annie perked an eyebrow, but she knew what he was going on about. She was glad she wasn’t the only one who did.

“Bertolt, Marcel…” Reiner leaned against the back of the bench, craning his neck up to the cloudy afternoon skies. “… The entire 104th squad. I see them all here. All the time. The dead ones especially.”

He grimaced, “I wish I didn’t. They haunt me everywhere I go. Especially him.”

Reiner took a hard chug of his tea, swallowing audibly. Annie swore she almost heard the man whimper.

“This is my penance I suppose… I hurt him the most.”

~*~*~ 

Thirty minutes to 20:00, Annie hurriedly made her way down the same back alleyways Eren had led her though a day prior. She clutched the top of her long trench coat with one hand, underneath it she carried a satchel. The wine Colt had purchased for her was safely hidden inside. Night had already set in, and the skies were a clear indigo speckled with distant twinkling stars. There was a brisk chill in the wind, coming from being too close to the sea, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle

The silk dress she bought in the morning felt light, and pleasurably smooth against her skin. The hem of the dress swished around her lithe pale legs. She would have worn some woolen stockings she owned too; but they itched badly so she discarded them in favor of shorts to wear beneath the dress.

Annie had styled her hair to the best of her ability. She settled on a loose braid; combing her long bangs to the side, tendrils of platinum blonde still obscured her eyes. She also had applied a bit of light make-up. A sweep of mascara to make her eyes stand out, nude lip stick, a dust of dark eyeshadow for a sultrier look. She even powdered her face to a livelier rouge complexion. This game wasn’t new to her, so she had taken to learning about cosmetics and beauty earlier on.

Though Eren wasn’t the type to care much for appearance. If she was being honest with herself; Annie didn’t know what Eren looked for in a woman. Or if he favored the opposite sex at all.

She’ll find out soon enough though. It’s not like it mattered too much to her. She knew him. And he had known her. They had respect for each other. That’s what mattered most. That familiarity. That admiration. If she played her cards right, she might be able to manipulate him; as he had tried to manipulate her, using only her words.

There might not even be a need for the wine.

Still, she tried not getting her hopes high. This was Eren Jaeger, after all.

“-Isgusting bastard!”

Annie halted in her path.  

Glass shattered in the distance, followed by raucous laughter.

What was that?

Going for a stroll at night pass the Marleys’ curfew hours was dangerous; walking in the back alleys at night pass curfew hours, was even more dangerous. Annie squared her shoulders, continuing down the narrow cobblestone path towards the noise. She walked carefully to avoid having her heels clack too much.

Annie stopped short of a corner, just when that same obnoxious laugh erupted.

“Oh shit, Look! Look at his eye! Haha!”

She crept forward cautiously. Keeping one hand on the grimy wall, she peeked around the corner. There was a dumpster which obscured a lot of her view. But Annie did see two young men. One who was sharply dressed, and laughing like a hyena, and another who stood off to the side with his back facing her, that one’s arms were crossed. But she saw clearly the absence of the star arm band on both men.

Marleyian Civilians? What are they doing in an Eldian neighborhood? …

The dumpster hid her view of what she was certain was a poor incapacitated Eldian.

The laughing man kicked at the body behind the dumpster, Annie heard a low groan.

“C’mon gutter rat, preach to us again. So we can knock you the fuck out some more.”

Annie swallowed inaudibly.

This is none of business. Turn around. Don’t look back. These things always happen.

And she was. She was just about to step away, to put what she saw behind her, and erase it from her memory. Until she heard his voice.

“You’re only going to… damage your delicate fists.”

Annie shut her eyes, sighing exasperatedly.

Damn it.  

“C’mere, you one-eyed bitch.”

Annie peeped around the corner again, the laughing man was no longer laughing, but snarling into the face of the suicidal idiot she was supposed to use her nearly non-existent charm on.

Damn it Eren!

Annie could barely see the other titan shifter, and his long hair fell over his eyes and much of his face. But that well-dressed young man was holding Eren up by his shirt high enough that she could make out the cuts on his cheek, and the smear of red covering his chin. The one holding Eren hissed something, before launching his fist into Eren’s stomach—Eren doubled over, but the suited man caught him, holding him up by his shoulders, before striking Eren’s chest with his knee.

Eren fell limply; Annie winced.

That’s twice he’s been kicked in the chest now.

The well-dressed man who seemed to be doing all the violence gestured to Eren, looking to the other young man who stood idly off to the side. “Walter, frisk him. Dirty rat may actually have something of value on him.”

The one called ‘Walter’ cringed at Eren’s crumpled form on the ground, “Fuck no. You do it. I don’t want to touch him, he looks so filthy.”

The well-dressed one sighed with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Ugh, fine.”

Annie decided that was enough. She stepped out into the open.

“Hey.”

Her presence startled the two young men enough for them to look fearful for a split second.

“What!—Oh…” The suited man jumped to his feet, looking every bit like an angry well-dressed pig in Annie’s eyes.

“it’s just another Eldian…” He smirked, his eyes landing on her armband, then scoured the rest of her body.

“But this one’s a doll, you got money pretty girl?” His smile was lecherous.

Annie ignored him. “That man there, leave him alone.”

“Or what?” The suited man was approaching her now. Sure footed, and cocky.

These types are always cocky.

“What’re you going to do little girl, hm?” He stopped just a foot away from her. He attempted to be dominating but it didn’t work on her, he wasn’t so tall, in fact, he only had three more inches on Annie. She wondered how Eren could let himself get beaten by such a shrimp of a man.

Annie shrugged. “Nothing. I’m only asking you to leave him alone. You’re beating up a defenseless civilian, and for what? I thought the Marleyians of this district were already rich. You certainly look so, why waste your time stealing from the poor?”

The suited man looked bewildered for a moment, then he laughed that hyena-like laugh of his that had Annie, and even the one called Walter cringing at the sound.

“Why the fuck,” He stepped closer, “would I care about what you think? Walter get over here!”

Walter hesitated, “Uh—but I’m watching the gu—”

“I said get the fuck over here!”

“Okay.”

The suited man leered down at her, “You see, nobody gives a shit what you think. You’re nothing, you were born a little squealing rat like that one over there. Little Eldian girl, you might dress prettily but you’re worth no more than shit off my shoe.”

“Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?” Annie dead-panned.

The suited man chortled. “You think you’re tough, huh?” He leaned into her face, this one reeked of musky cologne and sweat. Annie wrinkled her nose but looked directly into his eyes. Challenging him.

“No, I’m just a bystander. Are you really going to force yourself on a frail woman like me?”

“Frail?” His eyes trailed downward, lingering on her chest some. His eyes narrowed upon meeting her face once more, his hand reached out to grasp her, “Let’s see how frail you really are—Huh!?”

Annie caught his wrist, twisting it. The suited man yelped, not expecting any retaliation, he tried to pull away, but she quickly dragged him down to her height.

“Very.”

She kicked his ankles, so he tumbled over, but she still had a firm grip on his wrist. She yanked his arm higher, forcing him to his knees.

“Ah, fuck! What—what the fuck, you bitch! Walter!”

Annie expected this ‘Walter’ to intervene. She acted fast, without a second thought— she kicked the suited man’s head into the nearby dumpster. Her polished black heel went flying in another direction. He was out the moment the impact came, sliding down the dumpster like a forgotten rag doll.

Walter hadn’t reacted quick enough, he stared at his friend’s unconsciousness body. Too overwhelmed to do anything. “Holy shit… Heinz! Fuck!”

Walter waved his hands hysterically. “You fucking killed him!”

Annie rolled her eyes. “I only knocked him out. He tried to grab me after all, we may not be protected against violence, but we are when it comes to sexual assault. I had every right to defend myself against a molester.”

Walter shook his head frantically. “Heinz is not a—a molester! He—Oh, fuck off! I’m going to report you to the authorities!”

Walter turned to run. “An Eldian whore like you should be locked up—”

Annie tilted her head. Eren stood in Walter’s way.

The Marleyian’s hands were trembling. “Get—get out of my way…”

Calmly, Eren took hold of Walter’s throat. Walking him into the same wall the suited man Heinz had held him against.

Strangely, Annie felt her stomach drop. As if this was the part where she knew it was going to get out of hand.

“Wait… Eren—”

He squeezed Walter’s throat, so tightly that the dirty tan of knuckles became a lighter tint. The young Marleyian emitted a choking sound, grasping at Eren’s arms, weakly shoving at his face, Eren merely brushed off the other’s hands.

“Eren.” Annie cautiously approached his side, like one would a rabid dog. With him closer now, Annie could see the damage the two Marleyians’ did to his face. There was a bruise blossoming underneath his right eye, his lip was split, bleeding profusely, and his left eye—Annie gaped— was gone. Where there should be an eye was just shriveled eyelid skin, and a nail length scar running from his brow to his cheek bone.

“I don’t get it,” Eren’s voice was soft but gruff. “I felt his fists on my face, he made me bleed. I never made any attempt to fight back, and yet,” Eren leaned in, “… Yet the true hatred I saw was in your eyes, how you did nothing but watch. You secretly enjoyed watching him beat me.”

The whites of Walter’s eyes were wet and reddening from lack of oxygen. He beat at Eren’s chest, to no avail. Eren observed him with a lack of emotion. He could’ve been looking at the wall itself, the way Eren regarded this Marleyian boy.

“Do you really hate me so much? Is all that hate well-earned for one Eldian? Did I deserve the beating he gave me, for simply existing? To what—atone for what my ancestors did to his hundreds of years ago? This is a new age now, why do we have to stay living in the past?”

Annie tentatively touched his elbow. “Eren, that is enough.”

He looked at her, finally. Annie almost wished he didn’t. His one eye didn’t look like his own, brightly peering down at her through his tangles of dark hair.

Walter was starting to gag, clawing at Eren’s hands. His feet beat on the pavement. Eren focused on him again. Holding him for a moment longer before releasing him. Walter sucked in a breath, red welts lined his throat. Sensing freedom, he tried to run, but Eren immediately shoved him back.

Walter coughed, “Just let me go, please!”

Eren delicately grabbed the Marleyian by the chin, he turned Walter’s head so the Marleyian’s view was focused on the petite blonde before him.

He leaned in so that his mouth was aligned with Walter’s ear. “Apologize to her.”

“W-what?”

Annie stepped back, folding her arms. “Eren, this is unnecessary.”

His behavior was unsettling her. Already had the moment he got back up.

What is wrong with him?

“Not to me.” Eren didn’t take his eyes off Walter. He clutched the Marleyian’s face tighter, causing the man to whimper pathetically.

“This woman here. She’s the Vice Commander of the Warrior’s Unit. In other words. A titan shifter.”

Upon hearing that sentence. Walter’s eyes bulged from their sockets more so than when he was being strangled. His mouth went agape in shock.

Annie’s face rivaled Walter’s. Though she appeared more furious than anything.

This bastard just revealed my identity!

“She’s a high-ranking soldier,” Eren continued, ignoring the blonde’s murderous glare at his side.  “Not a bitch, not a whore. She’s the reason you never became fodder for your enemies.”

Eren let go of Walter’s chin, nudging him toward her. “Apologize.”

Hot tears ran down Walter’s cheeks. He looked even younger, bawling like a child in front of her.

“I—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—we didn’t know. I’m… please—” He turned to Eren. “Can I leave now? You were right about Heinz! But I never laid a hand on you o-or that girl, please let me go.  I won’t tell… I won’t tell anyone I swear!”

Eren looked to Annie. There was something in that vivid green eye of his she didn’t like, something that caused her insides to turn cold as ice. Feeling uneasy, she hugged herself tighter. Giving her back to him.  

Eren kept his sight on her but lazily gestured to Walter. “Go.”

Walter sprung to his feet, ready to flee from the dumps of the Eldian tenement back alleys. Eren caught him by the arm before he could make a break for it.

“Bayside Pier, by the docks, where the trade boats come in.”

Walter blinked away his tears.  “H-huh—”

“Your mother lives by there.” Was all Eren said. Walter was silent, comprehending Eren’s words, then he sobbed louder. Eren let him go. For sure this time.

[delightfulvoidstudent]

FFxivWrite2021 Prompt #19: Cascade

Post SHB timing - very small spoilers

“Refresh my memory, what is this for?” Chidori sat, patiently. Mostly because there was little recourse other than to sit, patiently, when a Lalafel with a mission had her hands in your hair. Unless one wanted to be bald, which she didn’t. So she sat while Tataru fussed and fidgeted, pulling raven locks back, then over, then up. Apparently, she hadn’t come in with a plan. Krile was the one who answered, after a moment, and Chidori’s glance in the mirror made it clear it was mostly because Tataru’s mouth was full of pins. She wasn’t entirely sure where they’d even come from, certainly not her room. “It’s an event, Chidori” Krile piped up, cheerfully, from where she was hunting through Chi’s wardrobe for shoes that would work with the still covered dress hanging from the bathroom door. A long, opaque dress bag, giving her almost as much to be uneasy about as the sudden appearance of two Lalafellian women at her door with it and a few ‘boxes of essentials’ an hour ago. She’d been shuffled into a bath without so much as a by your leave, the two chatting incessantly outside the door while she got cleaned up. As though she might sneak out the window. It was too small to escape through, and they’d taken her clothes. “Absolutely an event. The most important of the season, and you have to be there.” Krile continued, emerging from the closet with a pair of boots Chidori thought she’d thrown out ages ago. The heels were eight ilms, and while she could admit, in Ul’dahn society she could stand the boost, walking in them was a chore. The sound of half her closet avalanching behind Krile made her wince, a sharp tug on her hair causing her attention to return to the mirror she sat in front of and Tataru’s gaze in it. “Yes, but that doesn’t, ow, explain why I, ow, need to be dressed, ouch, to the nines” she wanted, desperately, to reach up, to massage her scalp. If she were less kind, she’d suspect Tataru had started pulling harder to distract her. “Everyone’s seen me in my” a pause, a slow breath through her nose, letting the stinging stop. She glanced in the mirror, almost startled she didn’t have a bald spot. “in my armor. They know me in my armor. What good, ow, is a fancy dress?” Her hands moved, almost of their own volition, and she forced them back down, resting them against the vanity’s top. Krile had painted her nails a soft shade of cerulean, a color that went well with her hair and coloring, and told her nothing about what the dress bag contained. Even the boots she’d picked, impractical though they were, were black. Nothing out of the ordinary there. “Because it’s Ul’dah, and a fancy dinner” Tataru mumbled through the pins, as though that were all the answer Chidori needed. And she supposed, in its way, it was. It was certainly all the answer she was going to get, both Lalafels occupied with their own work for long moments, silent. Tataru, now that Chidori had stopped asking questions, was swift in her work, sweeping her hair up and back, teasing strands loose into a soft, understated, elegant updo, the sort that looked artless and effortless and Chidori knew, from immediate experience, was anything but. Krile had stolen her slippers, at some point, and now they both stepped away, leaving Chidori with a handful of garments to put on. They took the dress bag, though, which baffled her. Still, she slid into the soft silk of the nylons, pulled on the boots, and then slipped a robe over her shoulders, letting the fabric cascade down her skin for a moment before taking a steadying breath and calling her friends back in. They were her friends. She remembered that, often, especially in moments like these where she had the distinct feeling they weren’t telling her everything, or even enough to really know what was happening. 

The dress was a minor act of tailoring wizardry. She could tell, just by looking at it, that Rose had had a hand in creating it. It was like watching night fall, watching the last dying gasp of the day, when darkness closes it’s hand around the world. The bodice, lightly boned, just enough to hold it up without straps was black, pitch dark with small crystals that caught the light as it was moved, winking and shimmering like stars. From there it flooded down, layers of rich silk that slowly bled through the colors of night, each color represented as part of the whole, an ombre that washed through the darkest dyes, from midnight past ultramarine, tiptoeing past colors that might be called poison or eggplant, sapphire, navy, cobalt. A riot of purples and blues in a train that would trail along behind her, stained at the very end with fire, the edges of a setting sun. A masterwork, a miracle made fabric, and Chi shook her head. Carefully, lest she dislodge any of the myriad pins currently holding her hair in place. “I can’t wear that. I’m.. I’ll ruin it.” “You can, and you will. It was made for you. Won’t fit anyone else, I fear. Rose said to tell you it was repayment, in part, for ‘about a thousand things she’s done and never even allowed us to say thank you for.’ His words, almost verbatim.” Tataru smiled, and Chi knew she’d lost. Hopefully this was what all the secrecy had been about. She could dream, even as she watched Krile and Tataru move around her, lacing her in, and knew from the look in her eyes they were not done. They were never done, not when they got like this, with that glimmer in their eyes. It was a whirlwind, implacable and impossible to stop, for all that there were only two of them who barely reached her hip. One might as well fight the tide. So she sighed softly, and let them finish their preparations and drag her from her rooms, out across the aether to Ul’dah and into a hallway. There they left her, making noises about their own outfits and preparations, and she faced the final few steps to a large door on her own. Oddly, those few steps were easier than the last several hours had been. She could take a slow breath, listen to the sound of her own heart, and find her balance again. Only to lose it on opening the door. Much like her dress, the day waned toward night, and the windows of the room were awash in the outpouring of crimsons, oranges, and yellows of the sinking sun. Burnished by all this light was a sole figure, dressed not as she’d come to expect, not in any of his normal outfits, but in the clean cut suit of Ul’dahn business. It was, she could admit in that silent, startled moment, a very, very good look on him. How long she might have stood, stunned, she could not say. Some inhalation of breath, a creak of the door, an inopportune strike of one of those cursed heels drew his attention from whatever he watched in the golden streets below, and she found herself offering a small smile, a gentle wave. “Are we the first to arrive?” She asked, though even as the words fell across the space between them she knew. This was the event. There was no space laid for a banquet, no grand room for a large party. Just this room, smaller now that she could take a moment to look at it, and the Elezen within it. A table, set for two, and his gaze, resting upon her. “Mistress Aosui” He started, then swallowed. She smiled, holding up her hand, offering him reprieve from pointing out her stupidity, though he instead crossed the room to her, taking her fingers and bending, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of her knuckles. She could barely think past the flush racing to her cheeks, startled, and blinked at Urianger as he straightened slightly. “Though I fear we’ve been, as the children say, pranked, tis truth I would accept such a fate as many times as it would yield so lovely a sight.” Her cheeks were going to light on fire. Did he just say she was pretty? “Mine only hope is that thou allows me at least one dance before flight, fairy maiden.” Her face was absolutely on fire. She managed, somewhere, a smile, shaking her head just a little. Her fingers were still in his hand, feeling the warmth, the slight tension there. He was nervous, too? Somehow, that gave her courage. 

“It seems ruinous, to waste so much effort. I’ve no idea what lengths the others went through to get you here, dressed so handsomely” see, two could pay compliments. The color in his cheeks was the best reward for that. “But I can think of nothing I would rather do than dance with such a well spoken prince.” A smile, rewarded with one reflected back at her, and the slightest pressure of his hand, closing the distance between them, his hand resting at the small of her back.

“Perhaps it is a night for wishing then, and I will wish for a fairy to share my meal as well.” 

She couldn’t help it, laughing softly, even as Urianger moved, fluid, leading her in a slow dance. She barely knew the steps and somehow it didn’t matter. She couldn’t keep up the flowery speech though. “I think dinner sounds lovely. Thank you for not running, either.”

[dragonagecompanions]

Inquisition companions and advisors react to an afab Inquisitor asking them to come with them on a shopping trip to get mens clothes for the first time in the first step of their transition (FTM). (I’m also curious to what clothes they would recommend) Thank you :)

(Him? Them? Pronouns for Inquizzy weren’t specified, and since I’m almost completely ignorant about transgender…everything I’m going with them. No offense is meant, I promise.)

Cassandra: Clothes have never been of great importance to her, and her eye is far better turned to armor than accoutrement. But when the Inquisitor comes to her she is honored to help them however she can. Shopping may well end up trying her patience, but every time her hand settles on the hilt of her blade tailors start working faster. It’s the best addition she has to the trip, but no matter what they have her support.

“You are the Herald of Andraste, but also my friend. I am not so fashion minded as Madame de Fer, but I will always be at your side.”

Solas: Their trust in him is touching, though it sparks no small amount of shame, but he is quick to decline a physical trip.

“I will more likely hinder you in Val Royeaux, and as it has been pointed out I am not…perhaps the flashiest dresser. But if you will permit me, I think I have a solution.”

And the Fade, with its ability to be manipulated at will, is a fantastic place to find one’s style. By the time they wake the Inquisitor will have a good idea of what will suit them, and the resident rift mage is pleased to be able to help a friend.

Varric: It only takes a single glance at the…distinctive style of Skyhold’s resident author to know that the Inquisitor is talking to a professional. And with contacts throughout the mercantile business he can also assure they get both the best prices and the best designs.

“All this Herald business, it’s just a mask. You be you, Inquisitor, and that’s worth a story.”

Sera: First off she makes her opinion on yellow and red plaidweave clear. But she also wholeheartedly supports the Quizzy, and while they are with the tailor and seamstresses she keeps the pranks to a minimum. Later of course she will tease them about being a colorful nob, and probably throw in a few stolen breeches to their growing wardrobe.

“Clothes keep skin in and rain out, but you look pretty sharp Herald-thingy. Don’t let it go to your head and get too big, though, or I’ll dye it all green. Good for a laugh, that.”

Vivienne: As their confidence and transition progressed Madame De Fer has been waiting for this moment, and the request has hardly passed their lips before she is accepting. It only takes a little time to arrange a visit with her personal tailor, and within a matter of hours there are sketches and plans for a wardrobe that defines both the myth and the man– and is designed to catch the eye.

“My dear, you will be judged on your every move and word, and there will always be those who will find fault with your actions. But you are above all of them– and we will have you look the part.”

Blackwall: If one would judge their resident warden solely on his hair and beard and constant quilted wardrobe they could be forgiven for thinking him unhelpful in designing a wardrobe. But Thom Rainier had been in his time a fashion plate, and while Blackwall has traded chiffon for chainmail he still remembers how such things work.

And he is painfully aware of how it feels to live as someone you are not, and is doubly gad to help.

“You’re a better man than most I’ve met in my time, and anyone who doubts it is a fool. Clothes don’t make a man, but if you feel more yourself than it’s worth the effort.”

Iron Bull:

“Not sure I’m the best person to ask, boss. Qunari and shirts don’t always get along. I mean, I have your back if you need it and I’ll bring the booze, but might be better to send a proxy.”

And so it is Cremisius Acclasi who accompanies the Inquisitor on the first of many shopping trips. He can offer them more than just sartorial advice- though his own background grants him that in spades- and the two bound over a shared journey.

Dorian: The heavens have opened up, the Maker has smiled on him, and Dorian Pavus finally has a chance to burn the terrible beige monstrosity the advisors have dressed their leader in. He gladly supplies them with patterns and ideas, sketches and swatches and everything they need to make their own choices– and is not shy about voicing his own opinion in each piece.

“There is nothing like a truly stunning wardrobe to give confidence, Inquisitor, and if my dear friend Mavaris were here she would support me. For now let me simply say that I am here for whatever you need– and right now you need to put the red down, it’s not your color.”

Cole: 

Cullen: HIs advice of ‘armor will take you farther’ and ‘a good coat is really all you need’ is appreciated, but hardly helpful. More helpful though is his unwavering support and invaluable tips on male hair regimens.

Leliana & Josephine: There is no question that Spymaster and Diplomat will be working together on this particular topic. Antiva is a land famous for its fashions and styles, and no one knows shoes like Sister Nightengale. At least three war table missions are dedicated to the topic, and for three days straight Cullen is forced to model for them all.

It’s very helpful.

(Interested in helping people who need a new look? Need a new look? Want to know more about transitioning? Ask these guys! )

–Mod Fereldone

[greyias]

FIC: The Art of Disguise

Title: The Art of Disguise Fandom: SWTOR
 Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight 
Genre: Humor
 Synopsis: One day the Outlander was going to stop finding new and interesting ways to make Theron's blood pressure skyrocket. Today was not that day..
. Word Count: ~2,600 Author’s Notes: Canonically, I've got no clue when the Eternal Championship is supposed to take place in KotFE, but I put it here after Chapter XIII, because that’s when they finally worked out the bugs.

Crossposted to AO3

In the spy game, it was always a good idea to keep things close to the chest, and to never broadcast what you were really feeling lest that be turned against you later. While not perfect at it, Theron used to do a decent job at keeping most of his emotions from bubbling to the surface. Then that had all got shot to hell he had met a certain Jedi Knight with a tendency to leap into the heat of battle in order to save nexu kittens and akk puppies, and in general just find new and exciting ways to make his blood pressure skyrocket.

While it had been higher in recent memory, like when she had taken an unexpected camping trip in the Odessen Wilds with his mother and the Force ghost of Darth Marr without telling anyone, he was still approaching hypertensive levels as he stalked through the halls toward the Underworld Logistics hangar. He hadn't even stowed away the datapad or closed out the note he'd just received that had led to his current bout of irritation:

Going to Zakuul to meet a Wookiee. Might free some slaves. Want to come? — G

No, he did not want to go to Zakuul. And considering that her pretty little blonde head was currently on the top of the Eternal Empire's most wanted list, she really shouldn't either unless it was absolutely mission critical. As Wookiee's weren't exactly commonplace in Wild Space, he had a feeling he knew exactly what hotspot she was thinking of heading to, and nothing about the activities that went on at the Platform 6 Cantina were of utmost importance to the Alliance's current objectives.

Several people ducked out of the way as he strode by, but he hardly spared them a glance as he scanned the dimly lit room for his quarry. He usually picked her out by the bobbing blonde ponytail, ridiculously large teal shoulder guards, and embroidered brown cape billowing behind her as she darted to and fro. He didn't spot any of that, but he did spy Hylo Visz leaning against one the large storage containers scattered about her base of operations. From her barely concealed amusement, Theron had a feeling she knew exactly where the Alliance's Commander had gotten to.

"Better watch it, Spyboy, your face might get stuck that way," she said by way of greeting as he stalked over.

"How did I know that you had something to do with this?"

"Hey, I just passed the request along." The smuggler shrugged. "The Commander's inability to say no to a call for help is your problem."

"Yeah, thanks for that," he grumbled. "Where is the bleeding heart? I need to have a few words with her about this stupid plan—"

"Since when is freeing slaves stupid?"

"Its stupid when it involves getting into a giant battle arena being broadcast across the planet and advertising to Arcann exactly where he can go pick up his favorite block of thawed carbonite."

"Ah, don't worry about that." The wide smirk she shot him was in no way comforting. "I got it covered."

"Last time you said that I wound up dodging vibroblades during a high speed pursuit on Nar Shadaa."

"Hey, it all worked out in the end. Besides, I think you'll get a kick out of this."

He gave her a side eye, but before he could argue the point further, a familiar voice drifted out of the closed off area of the storage container. "Hylo, are you sure this is the right size? It's really tight in the back."

"Yep, that's the way it's supposed to fit," she called back, and then for some reason gave him a sly wink that was far from reassuring. "Why don't you come out and let us see how it looks?"

"Us?"

Theron crossed his arms impatiently and leaned back on a nearby barrel as a freckled face popped out, face brightening when she caught his eye. His irritation was briefly chased away as his stomach flip-flopped as it usually did when he was on the receiving end of that smile, but he recovered quickly enough and fixed his scowl back in place. "I got your note."

"Oh, good!"

"You're insane you know that? You're going to be recognized the moment you step into that arena."

"I thought about that! Hold on, I'm almost finished." Her head disappeared back behind the storage container, briefly followed by the sound of shuffling as she struggled with something out of sight. "Hylo got me a disguise."

The shit-eating grin spreading across the Mirilan's face inspired no confidence, and he attempted to brace himself. "A disguise?"

"Yeah." There was a bit more shuffling before she jumped out, spreading her arms wide. "What do you think?"

He stared at the sight before him, unsuccessfully able to keep his reaction in as his mouth dropped agape. He heard Hylo snicker next to him, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the spectacle before him. "Where… where in the blazes did you get that?"

"I know some people," the smuggler's tone was far too smug. "Took me a while to track it all down, but I think it was worth every credit."

"You like it?" The Jedi spun around, modeling the immaculately crafted outfit.

"That's my jacket!" he finally sputtered. "And my pants—and my boots—what the hell…"

"No one will recognize me!"

"That's because they'll think you're me!" he shot back.

"Oh no," a smooth voice interjected, "I don't think anyone's going to mistake those curves for your chiseled physique."

Theron managed to break his gaze from the bizarre fun house mirror image to see Gault sidle up to their little group, a wide grin fixed on the conman's face. He shot the Devaronian a glare, which didn't phase the other man in the slightest.

"Curves?" the Jedi frowned, tossing a look at Hylo.

The Mirilian laughed, and just pat the younger woman on the shoulder. "Ignore him."

"I'll tell you," Gault leaned in close, voice pitched low so only Theron could hear, "I'm not usually much on fashion statements, but I certainly wouldn't mind seeing the Commander wearing my pants."

The cry of pain as Theron's boot firmly crunched on the Devaronian's toes briefly drew a twin look of concern from the two ladies. Theron smiled tightly and waved them off, and leaned over so he could whisper into Gault's ear. "Maybe you should just imagine your wardrobe on your girl. She strikes me as the jealous type."

"She's not the only one," Gault muttered irritated, still watching the two ladies closely. "At least my fashion style wouldn't be showing off her assets for everyone to see."

The tight smile didn't leave Theron's face as he casually rammed his elbow into Gault's stomach, knocking all of the air out of the other man. "Eyes above the waist."

"You're no fun," he wheezed.

Theron didn't consider himself a jealous man, but he couldn't suppress the spike of irritation at someone openly ogling his girlfriend. The long cape and bulky armor typically obscured the form that he enjoyed behind the privacy of closed doors, and he shifted uncomfortably as he watched the immaculately tailored replica of his outfit show it off for everyone to see. Surely his pants weren't that tight.

"You know it took forever to track down that damn jacket in her size," Gault murmured. "If this is the thanks I get, this'll be the last time I lend my skills to help spice up your love life."

Theron ground his teeth together, checking his urge to continue casually beating up the conman until he just vacated the room completely. The spy had tried to keep his relationship with the Alliance's leader low-profile, as he didn't know how the perception of her fraternizing within the ranks would come across to everyone else. Apparently his paramour had a little less discretion, as he'd caught her and Hylo talking in hushed tones in the cantina a few times. It should have figured that the juicy gossip would have made its way to Gault via pillow-talk. 

"There is no need to spice anything up," Theron tossed back, deciding at this juncture denial of their relationship was pointless, "and no help is necessary."

"You have to admit this is better than her parading around in a Skytrooper helmet."

The sound of Theron smacking his forehead echoed across the room, and he scrubbed a hand across his face. "Kriff! How did you hear about that?"

"I have a healthy relationship with my lady. We talk about things. Especially the funny things."

He massaged his temple with one hand, hardly believing that she had talked about that with Hylo. Sure, it was a funny story in retrospect, but there were some things he just didn't feel like remembering. His girlfriend's complete misunderstanding of the art of seduction being one of them.

"Look, she's just a little bit sheltered—"

"That's one word for it," Gault snickered, "hence our generous help in this matter."

"And I will generously bury you in a grave so deep no one will ever find it if I so much as hear anyone breathe anything about Skytrooper helmets again, you hear me?"

"Excessively violent point taken."

"Good."

Theron shoved away from his perch and approached his female doppelgänger, trying to ignore the confusing rush of heat that washed over him as she turned to face him with a bright smile, his eyes inadvertently straying to the way the replica of his belt hugged her hips. He quickly readjusted his gaze, but the amused smirk Hylo shot him let him know she'd caught his slip.

"This will never work," he said flatly. He had to press his lips into a line as the bright smile dimmed, refusing to let that distract him.

"Why not?"

"They can still see your face, genius." He flicked the bangs flopping in front of her eyes, trying to keep his composure as her eagerness began to fade into a pout. "The whole place will be filled with Knights and Skytroopers before you can count to ten."

"Did you say Skytroopers?" the Devaronian called sarcastically.

"Shut it, Gault!"

"We're already ahead of you, Theron," Hylo she pulled something from the crate next to her and tossed it their way.

It was caught in mid-air and slipped over the blonde head in one motion. The steel mask perfectly hid her face so that Theron couldn't see her expression, but from the way she canted her hip out to the side and firmly rested her fist on it, it likely had a sarcastically quirked eyebrow raised at him in challenge.

It was really hard for him to concentrate on staying irritated and shutting down this idiotic farce, as a very confusing mix of emotions rushed over him. He was having a hard time not looking at all of the little details of the perfect copy of his outfit, or exactly how nicely it all hugged and accentuated her figure, but then his eyes strayed to the featureless mask and that just threw him off again in a completely different way.

He needed to go take a few moments alone so he could collect his wits and approach this situation as a rational adult, but there was no opportunity for him to escape.

"See?" Hylo snickered as she slung an arm across each of their shoulders. "Told you he'd be speechless."

"This was your idea?" he finally sputtered.

"Yep!" Hylo bobbed her eyebrows. "And the look on your face is priceless."

"There is no look."

"Oh, there's a look," came the Jedi's electronically modified voice through the steel mask. "I'm just not sure what words to use to describe it."

"I should have holo'd this whole thing." Hylo ruffled Theron's hair affectionately, an action that would have gotten anyone else's wrist broken. "But I'll always have the memories."

"So will I," Gault put in.

Hylo tossed an irritated look at her other half, before flashing a knowing grin at the two red jacketed figures. "Sadly, I have other business to attend to, but you kids try not have too much fun."

She sashayed away, casually slapping the still ogling Gault on the back of the head before grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and dragging him with her. Theron gave one last departing glare to the Devaronian before turning his attention back to his girlfriend. She had her arms crossed in a perfect imitation of him, and he scowled, uncrossing his arms and instead rested his hands on his hips. She mimicked the action perfectly.

"Stop that."

"I'm just practicing my impressions."

"This is not an act we're taking on the road," he bit out.

"Well, you're free to stay here if you want. I'm still heading to Zakuul."

"You're not—look I can't talk to you like this, take that thing off." He reached out and unclasped the mask, pulling it off to reveal an irritated blue gaze directed at him.

"Why are you being like this?"

The uncomfortable rush of heat at washing over him right now was not something he was willing to discuss in an open area. Or a private one even. Or ever really. But it was a completely separate issue from what had brought him here, and if he just didn't let his eyes stray to the way the stupidly accurate replica of his shirt skimmed across her chest he could focus on that.

Right. Focus. On the whole Eternal Championship thing.

"This is a risk you shouldn't be taking," he finally ground out. "No matter who you're dressing up as."

"Those people need help," she said stubbornly, "and I'm not going to stand by when I can do something to return them back to their normal lives."

"Of course not," he sighed, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. "Your altruistic streak is going to be the death of me someday."

"That's not funny."

"Am I laughing?" he snapped back. "Have you even looked into the guys you'll be going up against? They don't exactly pull their punches—or fight fair."

"I can take them." She crossed her arms and raised her chin defiantly. "Even if I have to do it by myself."

"Of course you're not doing it by yourself!"

She raised her brows raised quizzically, as the hints of a smile twitched at her lips. "So you're coming with me?"

"Stars, you already got us matching outfits. How can I back out now?"

The familiar bright smile that turned his insides to jello lit up her face before she threw her arms around his neck in a hug. He glanced around the room, but everyone else was very studiously looking in every direction but theirs. With a little less reluctance, he let one arm curl around her as he returned the embrace.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You know everyone's going to think we're involved in some kind of stupid dare."

"Shh, you're ruining the moment."

"Fine," he muttered, "but next time I get to wear your cape."

"Really? You think you can pull that look off?" She let out a quiet huff of a laughter as he affectionately swatted the back of her head.

"What am I going to do with you?"

"Right now I'm guessing you're going to help me free some slaves." Her eyes glittered as she grinned at him. "After that, well, I guess we'll see."

Oh, he had an idea or two on that, but it would have to wait until they got back. But he decided to keep that to himself for now, and instead he just ruffled the high ponytail. "Come on, Commander, we better get going. The galaxy's not going to save itself."

[flickdirect]

Looking for a film to feed your musical sensibilities and soul that will also keep the younger "Mouseketeers" at your side engaged and entertained? Look no further than the circus! Socialites and royalty mingling with "freaks;" contemporary dance moves in period costumes; 20th Century dialogue and song from 19th Century characters...vivid colors and chiaroscuro lighting. A future film class case study on juxtaposition, The Greatest Showman (20th Century Fox Home Entertainment) would make both Kuleshov and P.T. Barnum, himself, proud as presented on 4K, Blu-ray, and DVD this week.

For the sake of entertainment and [ahem] inspiration, set aside is the controversial debate on whether Barnum was a social justice dreamer empowering outsiders, labeled "freaks" or "curses," previously relegated to the shadows; or, a con man exploiting the "special" people on which he was purportedly shining the spotlight. Decidedly leaving the latter in the coffers, the former can be embraced as it is leveraged to create a film with the precisely executed intention of entertaining, inspiring, celebrating, and embracing that which makes us each different...and spectacular (with a killer soundtrack to boot).

The original "reality" showman, Phineas T. Barnum (as both storied, and charismatically portrayed by Hugh Jackman; Wolverine) is a visionary with a flair for captivating the attention and imagination of the masses. (After one unimpressed critic disparages Barnum's showcase as a "circus," he adopts the word and incorporates it into the title; hence, P.T. Barnum Circus.) It is, however, the ever elusive societal acceptance, and "respect" that comes with it that would fuel his drive; and, in turn, create a chasm distancing those he most professed to treasure. The son of a poor tailor (Will Swenson; No Tomorrow), he is denigrated at the hands of a wealthy patron (Fred Lehne; Money) whose daughter (Charity) he befriends, and ultimately marries. This, and further humiliations upon the death of his father are the seeds that feed his feelings of inferiority, and lifelong lust to prove his worth.

Michelle Williams (Wonderstruck) is enchanting as Charity Barnum whether onscreen alone ("Tightrope"), opposite Jackman ("A Million Dreams"), or alongside (delightfully endearing) daughters Caroline (Austyn Johnson; The Post) and Helen (Cameron Seely; The Jim Gaffigan Show). Equally charming and talented are the portrayers of Young Barnum (Ellis Rubin; Linda from HR), and Young Charity (Skylar Dunn; OITNB). Williams' performance is breathtaking in that she emits a strength in character, and fortitude in life swathed in demure elegance. The rooftop scenes rekindle feelings of vintage romance for modern times as evoked by Baz Luhrmann's Moulin Rouge. Meanwhile the crew of misfits that comprise the circus closely resemble Luhrmann's band of misfits working on "Spectacular, Spectacular"; they are spectacularly talented and mesmerizing in their own right.

Exceptional talents Zendaya (Spider-Man: Homecoming) and Keala Settle (Ricki and the Flash) are MAGNIFICENT in their respective roles as trapeze artist Anne Wheeler, and bearded lady Lettie Lutz. "Come Alive", "This Is Me", "Rewrite the Stars"...truly, practically the entire song list is of note when mentioning particularly dazzling demonstrations of movement and voice...AND, THE WARDROBE [insert amazed emoji that does not yet exist]. It's not just their dress that manages to impress. Williams, Jackman, and (yes, even) Efron offer utter eye candy for the couturier; as do the dresses of "Europe's greatest singing sensation" Jenny Lind (Rebecca Ferguson; Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation). That nightingale performance of "Never Enough," however, is not Ferguson's; it is that of Loren Allred (talk about spectacular, spectacular). Zac Efron (High School Musical), however, does do his own singing. Although less than likable at times, the undisputedly talented Efron is fittingly cast as socialite and theater promoter Phillip Carlyle. Carlyle "joins the circus" after Barnum seduces him with the "freedom of show business." He is meant to offer legitimacy to Barnum's shows (as is Lind), but it only serves to chink Carlyle's upper crust armor. Efron is at his usual best with striking performances alongside Jackman in "The Other Side," and Zendaya in "Rewrite the Stars." (Breath twice again taken.)

Watching The Greatest Showman in its soon to be released digital version(s), 4K and Blu-ray provides an enhanced visual experience that augments the subtlest of details, intensifies the lighting (including intensified shadow for added dramatization), and refines the color saturation for truer, more vibrant hues. In his feature length directorial debut, Michael Gracey has managed to produce a visually stimulating film that brings together period story, setting and costumes with contemporary music and dance moves. It might sound cringingly hokey, but it actually works; equally entertaining for the more sophisticated musical lover, and the High School Musical set. The sound is also superb in both the Blu-ray DTS-HD Master Audio 7.1 and 4K Dolby Atmos. Whether the dialogue or the score, from the ambient sound to the crackling of the fire, the crispness, clarity, and invoked emotion of the sound truly make the experience more memorable...even if you are assured to walk away with an earworm or two. An old-school film student, I honestly don't fully understand all the technical specifications in detail. I am, however, able to recognize and beautifully experience all of it as will you.

Equally impressive are the extras included in this combo pack. Housed on the Blu-ray they are: The Family Behind The Greatest Showman, The Songs, The Spectacle, Galleries, Concept Art, Storyboards, Music Machine, Sing Along, Audio Commentary by Michael Gracey and Theatrical Trailers. The first is a nice 15-minute foray into what it took to bring this movie to life and offers lots of behind the scenes footage of rehearsals and cast interviews and the Singalong is a must for any musical theater geek or family viewing that includes young children.

With immense production value from the costumes and lighting to songs and choreography, The Greatest Showman has it all and does it exceptionally well.

Grade: A-

About Judith Raymer It was the classic movies shown Saturdays after the morning cartoon lineup that piqued Judith's curiosity for film. That curiosity would give way to a lifetime of exploration and contribution to media productions of all sorts — meandering through the worlds of fashion, public relations, advertising, film and television.

Read more reviews and content by Judith Raymer.

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