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crellanstein · 4 years

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Prodigious

I find it odd how the fandom focuses so much on Aang’s childhood being ruined when he learned he was the Avatar at 12, but there’s very little talk about how discovering she was the Avatar as a toddler affected Korra’s life and how she was raised.

But we’ll circle back to that...

Because this is a good starting point to talk about one of the most prevalent themes in the story, which the mainstream discussion of tends to only focus on a few characters -- That is the Child Prodigy.

We’ll start with the two most obvious. The ones we always talk about.

Azula.

The clearest example of your typical child prodigy (if there is anything typical about a prodigy). Azula showed early mastery of very advanced Fire-Bending techniques, and is the only Fire-Bender to use blue flames, which was intended to make her stand out amongst the other villains but is also indicative that her Fire-Bending is more pure and powerful (blue flame is produced when burning pure O2 or fuel without contaminant at a very high temperature).

All this lead to her being praised and favored by Ozai as a child, but as double-edged swords go, this also meant she had a lot of pressure on her shoulders to never fail, and she rarely did. Her ego matched her talent, and let’s be honest she was the baddest bitch the show had ever seen. Conquering Ba Sing Se, defeating the Avatar in combat, and dropping some of the most devastating lines of dialogue in villain history; she was a force nobody wanted to reckon with.

And that become a problem for one asshole in particular...

Being jealous of his own child is just one item on a laundry list of reasons why this guy is the worst father in the history of fathers. Azula had begun to outshine him with her victories, and Ozai’s maniacal ego couldn’t handle that, so he left her behind to babysit the Fire Nation while he went out to burn/conquer the world, which also was her idea.

And while this wasn’t the only thing that aided in her demise, it certainly was the final straw which sent her spiraling down into this...

In the end Azula is a sad example of how certain unfair expectations are placed upon talented children, and the more they succeed, the more these expectations grow and weigh on the them until they either disappoint those looking down on them or surpass and embarrass their elders.

It is a lose-lose situation which inevitably destroys them.

There is a similar example of the child prodigy, but his story goes a little different.

Aang.

Even as a twelve/thirteen year-old boy Aang by far has the most impressive stats among any character in the Avatar universe.

Basically mastering 3 of the 4 Elements in less than a year, after mastering Air by the time he is twelve (not to mention inventing his own Air-bending move, the Air scooter).

Aang is an example of a child prodigy who had too much thrust onto him at too young an age because of the talent he showed; because of this he panicked and ran away, and the world was worse off for it.

Aang/Sokka/Katara’s story is all about how in times of War, responsibilities normally handled by adults are pushed onto kids who then have to grow up very fast in order to deal with it all.

The message is clear. War robs the young of their childhoods.

Now, let’s talk about a different kind of child prodigy.

The Unacknowledged.

Yes, of course I’m talking about Toph, the greatest Earth-Bender to ever live.

Because of her blindness, Toph’s family tried to keep her sheltered and safe by hiding her from the world. Refusing to believe she could ever be more than helpless. Anyone who has seen the show knows that is far from the truth.

But because her potential went unseen, there were some negative effects to her personality. Initially, she resented her parents, and rebelled; which established a certain level of independence, a bad attitude, and a hot-headed streak. Over time spent with the Gaang these behaviors subsided because she finally had friends and they accepted her for who she was. By the end of the series she was fully willing to accept aid from them when she needed it, like holding on to Sokka’s arm in environment where her bending couldn’t help her “see”.

Toph’s story is a foil to Azula’s, both showed immense talent and badassery, but while recognition of Azula lead to ever-mounting pressure for her to succeed; the lack of recognition for Toph created a need for her to be acknowledged and set an undercurrent of frustration which leads to her acting out in the ways she does.

The lesson to take from Toph’s story is not to shelter your kid from the world out of fear for their safety, and to be open to recognizing their talents, not shun them.

Next are two more Unacknowledged.

Katara and Sokka.

Their story, and the reason behind their circumstances, is one of the more complicated and nuanced ones in the series, so here we’ll focus on how it fits into the subject of discussion.

Because of the War, Katara was robbed not only of her mother but also of any Southern Masters to train her, and any role models Sokka could have looked up to left with his father to fight. Because of this Katara’s potential and Sokka’s genius went unacknowledged not due to neglect but rather due to circumstance. (Yes, I think Sokka is a genius, how many 15 yr olds do you know that can plan an invasion, design submarines, and spit poetry off the cuff?).

This is a further example of how War robs kids of necessary childhood experiences, and these two robberies had particular effects on both Katara and Sokka’s character developments.

Sokka had the responsibility of protecting his home put upon him at a young age. The men of his tribe leaving prevented him from completing his rite of manhood until the Gaang ran into Bato of the Water Tribe, and early on Sokka was constantly trying to prove himself as a man and a leader. Sokka is one of the smarter characters of the series, but he rarely got credit for it until the third season. Not to mention that because he wasn’t a bender he often seemed less useful than the others. The circumstances of war made his talent go unnoticed and because of that he often was unsure of himself and overcompensated to prove something.

Speaking of talent going unnoticed.

Katara is definitely one of the more talented benders of the series. After training herself for years with little progress, she essentially mastered Water-Bending in a few weeks under Master Pakku. While her anger towards the Fire-Nation mostly centers around the loss of her mother, it can’t be ignored that the delay in her training was a direct result of the Fire-Nations’ actions. Toph’s anger and frustration vented itself as rebellion. However, the same frustration and anger is within Katara, but because she wasn’t as natural a bender as Toph she sought to learn and be respected, and when that was denied to her is when that anger bubbled to the surface in some terrifying ways.

While Toph’s talent went unnoticed because of her families neglect, Katara and Sokka’s wasn’t acknowledged because there was nobody to acknowledge it. Because of that both brother and sister wanted to prove themselves to the world.

And then there is Zuko.

I know what you’re thinking. Zuko wasn’t a prodigy, his Fire-Bending skill didn’t catch up with Azula’s until the finale and he never mastered Lightning-Bending, but this section is about the Unacknowledged.

Zuko had many other talents besides Fire-Bending, he was a master swordsmen, and was able to successfully break into every secure facility he attempted in the show (which was almost every secure facility the show featured). Unfortunately, these talents were never recognized, because the only thing the royal family cared about was bending ability (It’s possible the reason he learned the sword was because he lacked skill in Fire-Bending).

As per usual with Zuko, this part of his tale is quite sad. Many can relate to being outshined by a sibling, and when it becomes all too clear that one cannot match another’s talent it’s quite understandable to focus on what they do excel at, but even then there is no promise of recognition for their own talent. Zuko was even mocked by his father during the solar eclipse when Ozai tried baiting him into attacking with his swords.

This lack of recognition is one of many sad aspects of Zuko’s early life, but it is a definitive example of one of the hardest unacknowledged prodigy’s cross to bear. The Outshone prodigy, one whose talents are never noticed because a bigger and brighter star stands in the way of such recognition, and arguably the most frustrating type mentioned here. Toph/Sokka/Katara all came from situations were there was no recognition being given to them or anyone, but Zuko had to bear watching massive amounts of praise be piled on to his sister while he and his accomplishments went by the way side.

Ozai summed up the situation best.

“Azula was born lucky, Zuko was lucky to be born”

Alright now where have I been going with all this?

So, far we’ve covered a lot of wrong ways to treat a child, whether they show talent or not, and how the circumstances of war can also take many things from children.

But what happened to Korra?

(Before we get into to this I should state that I like Korra, and the purpose of this is not to bash her as a character or her arc, but rather to give a little of my insight into it.)

It’s well established that Aang was told of his heritage too young, and that was a detriment on his development into an adult, but what would have happened if he realized his powers himself not long after he could walk? We’ll never know, but we do get to see the effects it had on Korra.

When she revealed herself as the Avatar, Korra set her entire life in a new direction, and because Aang tasked the White Lotus with finding and training her that direction was out of her control. There are two key differences between Korras’ and other Avatars’ lives.

1. She grew up in isolation on a White Lotus compound.

Every Avatar before Korra we know of spent a portion of their early lives traveling the world in order to master the elements; along this journey they not only learned how to bend the other 3 elements, buy also many things about the 3 other nations and the world they are tasked to protect as a whole. By confining Korra in safety and bringing the masters to her the White Lotus deprived Korra of this opportunity to learn and grow and understand the world and the people within in. It also deprived her of learning modern bending styles until she reached Republic City.

While this might have kept Korra safe from the Red Lotus, it grew within her a naiveté about how the world worked, and because of this when she actually did venture out into the world she was terribly unprepared for it.

2. She was trained and mastered 3 of the elements by the time she was 16.

Most Avatars don’t know they have this power until they reach 16 and then they spend several years learning to control it. Korra’s natural talent in the bending lead to her training being expedited not by necessity like Aang’s, but due to her talent and eagerness. Korra excelled at the physical part of being the Avatar and because of this by the time she reached maturity she had become over-confident in her abilities and true to what her Fire-Bending master said in Ep.1 she lacked restraint.

I’m not saying her bending isn’t great, but rather because it is so great it’s her go-to solution to anything, and she enjoys that so she uses it with enthusiastic gusto and not a lot of thinking before striking.

This overconfidence coupled with her naiveté of the world is what lead to many of her rash decisions and actions, most of which had negative consequences, and I believe are the reason behind some fan are dissatisfied with her. Aang had been almost the complete opposite, even by the age of twelve he was an experienced world traveler and an incredibly humble guy.

Some may have been dissatisfied by these character decisions, but they served a purpose, they are only the beginning of her arc. The internal challenge Korra must overcome through 4 seasons is to humble herself before the world, and learn from it. This was finally achieved in the 4th season when the metal poisoning in her body forces her to face others in the world as equals, only then had she completed her journey.

And why did it all go this way?

Because she is a very unique child prodigy, what she demonstrates in the first episode of LOK would be akin to a toddler playing the violin or hitting a three-pointer; she could bend 3 elements close to just after learning to walk. That is the kind of prodigious talent rarely seen because it is mostly impossible. How does a rational person handle a child like that?

It’s a tough question, and something this essay has been circling around the whole time. Each example here is the wrong way to handle talented and different children, but what is the right way?

As always look to Iroh.

Who treated his surrogate son Zuko with both respect and compassion.

Unlike Toph’s parents, Iroh worried over Zuko’s well being, but also allowed him to be independent, make his own decisions, and take his own risks.

Unlike the Nomad Leaders, he didn’t want Zuko weighed down by his position in the world and the responsibility that came with, and always encouraged him relax and take advantage of the moment.

Unlike Ozai, Iroh would always be there to support Zuko in his victories and his failures. Iroh shows him the right path but does not force him down it.

And even after Zuko betrayed and abandoned him.

Iroh was never angry with him, and embraced him upon his return.

He wanted Zuko to grow and be a better man. Even if Zuko wasn’t a prodigy like his sister.

And that is the answer here. The way to raise a prodigy is the same way anyone should raise any child. Love, Support, a Guiding Hand rather than a Forceful Shove, Recognition of What Makes Them Unique, and Forgiveness When They Falter. The problem comes along when you start treating children differently because you see them as different or special. All children are different, all children are special.

Kids are kids, and they all deserve a proper childhood.

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kathonydaily · 2 years

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One of the lines I appreciate more on each rewatch, is in episode 7 when Anthony and Violet are on the stairs at the Danbury house (just after the epic Kanthony eye banging right in front of Edwina’s salad), and Violet asks if the plan to lie to the Ton and stay away from Kate will be a problem for him and that “I only ask because of what happened the last time you found yourself in such close proximity to Miss Sharma”. Because by ‘last time’ I don’t think she’s talking about what happened a few seconds before, I think she’s referring to the wedding when he wasn’t able to focus on his bride despite the Ton, the Archbishop, and God all watching. I’m sure she won’t know about the closet meeting, and she definitely won’t know about their kiss. And Anthony pulls a face after she says it (like ‘mother, you don’t know the half of it’), and then later in the conversation he says he’s failed at more than she or his father will ever know - which I think is at least in part a reference to the kiss. If Anthony wasn’t already thinking about the kiss the entire time he was in that house, it’s definitely popped straight to the front of his mind when Violet says that line and I have no doubt stays there for the rest of the conversation, while she talks of him marrying - as though marrying anyone that wasn’t Kate is now possible after that kiss! (Though I don’t think he’s quite ready to marry Kate at the point either, I think his new plan is to stay single)

I think he wanted Kate already at that point, just that he didn't think it was possible for them after the scandal. It wasn't until his conversation with Benedict that he saw things after a different light.

Either way, I think yes, he was referring to the kiss and to their other encounters when he said to his mother that she didn't know the half of it, but also he felt like a failure in many other ways too. He felt like a failure for hurting Edwina, for not being able to fullfill his duty toward his family, and for not being the man his father taught him to be. In ep8 he said to Gregory: 'I ask too much of him, and of you. And of everyone, really.' That line was also directed at himself, because he asked too much of himself too, he always did. He has always tried to be perfect, to be impeccable, to be the gentleman his father taught him to be. For him his dad was PERFECT, and he spent the last decade trying to emulate him, trying to be the perfect man his family deserved. And of course he was destined to fail, because NOBODY is perfect. Not even his father was. But everytime Anthony felt like he failed at something, he beated himself up, over and over again, hating himself every day a little more.

That's also why Benedict said to him at his art school later: 'How long do you plan on punishing yourself for, and wallowing in such misery?' and also: 'I look at my art, and if I do not like what I see, I may always alter the color palette, but I certainly do not toss the entire design aside. Perhaps you, too, could do the same in your own life.'

Because that's what Anthony did every single time. Everytime he felt like he failed at something he punished himself up, and tossed the entire situation aside. He didn't see the grey areas, just in black and white. It was this or that, not the colours in the middle. It was exactly this conversation with Benedict who clicked with him and made him see things under another perspective. He's not perfect and that's okay. He messed up but he still could find a way to fix things. There was the scandal yes, but maybe with time he would be able to pursue what he truly wanted: Kate. He finally began to see the colors in his life and through that he began to stop to emulate his father, or better the perfect image he had of him, and found himself.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #asks #2x07

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mochegato · 3 years

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Even the Losers

Chapter 19

Thank you guys for your patience! I took a week of vacation to focus on relaxing and catching up on this fic but I’m a wife and a mom so that’s the exact opposite of what happened. But I’m back now. I still won’t have daily updates, but it shouldn’t be weeks in between anymore.

Chapter 1 Chapter 18

Marinette looked up at the Wayne Enterprises building, craning her neck in an attempt to see all the way up. This was only her second time seeing the building up close and it was no less intimidating the second time around. There was nothing inherently intimidating about the building. It was large and imposing, but that was the only characteristic that would be considered intimidating.

It was more a feeling, an aura, she got from the name, the history, the expectations and obligations that hit her every time she saw the building. Like something was weighing down on her for just being in its presence. Something pushing her away and pulling her in at the same time. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her eyes never once leaving the building’s façade.

She almost jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “You sure you’re okay with this?” Max asked quietly. “We don’t have to do this today.”

Marinette shook her head, her eyes still pinned to the building. “Yes we do. I’ve pushed it off too long already. At this point, I’m getting favoritism by not getting lectured for it.”

Max looked around to make sure nobody was listening. “If it helps, I don’t think M. Wayne is the type to confront you at work.”

Marinette scoffed and gave him a pointed look. “That is exactly the type of man he is. Confront in a public place where it is likely to create a scene if I say ‘no’ and ask me to speak with him in a more private venue.”

Max gave her a small sympathetic smile. “Bad time to mention that you appear to have similar approaches to confronting people who are avoiding you?”

Marinette glowered at him, but only slightly. He wasn’t wrong. She was usually the one doing the avoiding, but if she had to confront someone who was proving elusive, such as when she had approached M. Fox the first time, it was an approach she would take. Didn’t mean she liked it. Either the tactic or the similarity in thinking process… or maybe she did like the similarity. It was a link to him. A subconscious, constant, unchanging connection to her biological father.

“I just mean to point out that if you do think alike, then you can anticipate his next moves and plan accordingly. You can use it to your advantage. You’re Harry Potter to his Voldemort,” Max offered with a supportive smile.

Marinette blinked a few times before turning to him wide eyed. “Did you just compare your boss, my biological father, to Voldemort?”

Max’s eyes widened in realization. “I… no… I… what I meant…”

He was cut off by Marinette’s laughter. It took several minutes for the laughter, loud enough to draw the attention and gawking of employees passing them by as they made their way into work, to die down enough for her to eke out words. “First a snake, now Voldemort. The man cannot get a break.” She wiped away the laughing tears from her eyes. “At least nobody’s compared him to Umbridge yet, so there’s that.”

She finally settled enough to pat Max on the back, her expression still amused, a wide smile on her lips. “Thank you, Max. I’ll consider that.” She turned back to the building and her bright smile dulled until it disappeared.

Max frowned at the change. He was very familiar with Marinette’s anxiety, it was an integral part of who she was. It had been since he first met her. But he had yet to figure out how to get her out of it. Alya and Adrien were always so good at getting her out of her head. What would they do? Max stared at her while he tried to remember how Adrien and Alya responded to Marinette’s anxiety spirals.

They had already reached the front steps before he decided however they would respond that wasn’t him. He pointed out facts then let people make their decisions based on the information. Then they might, or if it were Kim definitely would, make a stupid choice, but at least they had the information beforehand. “If it helps, M. Wayne used to walk through the department twice a day. But the last few days he’s only seen him in the afternoon, so I don’t think he will be there this morning.”

Marinette looked down, tapping her fingers together, avoiding his eyes. She closed her eyes and mentally berated herself. Why was she still such a coward? Avoiding her problems as though that had ever made things better for her. Avoiding Luka after they broke up just made him feel terrible and made her feel like a horrible person. And here she was doing the same thing, like she hadn’t learned a damn thing. She needed to talk to M. Wayne eventually, she knew that, she just didn’t know what to say or how to make it better yet.

She finally looked up guiltily at Max. “I’m sorry. I’m just not ready to see him yet, I haven’t figured out what I want to say, so that does help, knowing I still have time.” She let out a deep breath and squared her shoulders before making her way to the front door.

They slowly made their way to the elevator, focusing on each other and their path to the elevators, pretending like they didn’t see the people staring at her and whispering to each other. Once they were alone on the elevator, nobody to overhear their conversation, Max spoke up. “Maybe,” Max started quietly, “maybe, you don’t need to know what you want to say. Maybe you should let him say what he wants to say and go from there.”

He looked up at Marinette, a slight furrow in his brow. “From what you and Adrien said, it sounds like he may have some questions or may want to apologize. You had the last word, perhaps it would be most appropriate and in spirit of the rules of conversation to allow him the first in the next conversation.”

Marinette nodded at his reasoning. He was right. M. Wayne likely had a lot of questions and she hadn’t exactly let him have a say in their last conversation, perhaps it was only fair to allow him to have his say this time. She gave him a resolute nod and stood up straighter. “You’re right, Max. I should let him decide the next steps. I decided the last ones.”

Max turned and shook his head. “No. That is not what I am saying.” He looked her in the eyes for a moment before looking away and fixing his glasses. “What I meant to insinuate is it doesn’t have to all be on you. You don’t have to take responsibility for everything. There are two people in the conversation, in the relationship. You don’t have to take responsibility for moving either forward. He is responsible as well. You shouldn’t take it all on your shoulders.”

Marinette opened her mouth to say something but closed it quickly, not entirely sure what she wanted to say to that. She was saved from having to respond by the elevator doors opening. She stepped off and turned to Max with a plastered on smile. “Ready?”

Max looked down into his bag and raised his eyebrows at Markov as he stepped off the elevator. Markov displayed down-turned eyes and a frown. “Right, well,” Max started, much too loudly. He stood up tall and adjusted his glasses as Markov flew up next to him. “I promised to show you around the department. Come on, they’ve made some great progress. You should see the plans. You might have insights on the different directions we’ve been considering.”

The tour was short, it wasn’t a large department, but extremely enlightening. They were already making great progress. There was a mountain of failed prototypes with in depth analytic reports on their development and why they failed, ways to change it for the next attempt. There weren’t many employees in the department and they all smiled at Max and Markov as they passed and gave friendly nods. It seemed like nobody was upset that their former head of the department had been ousted and had welcomed Max with open arms.

“Ms. Dupain Cheng,” Lucius called out, making his way off the elevator and toward her and Max. He smiled warmly at Marinette and clasped her hand between his to shake it. “It’s been too long.”

Marinette chuckled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “It’s been like three days since we talked.”

Lucius grinned. His eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint that reminded her of the sweet older men who would come into the bakery and “flirt” innocently with her maman and her when she was older but then wax poetic about their wives, their entire faces brightening when their wives joined them. “Like I said, too long.” He chuckled along with Marinette and backed up a step. “Thank you for meeting me here. I trust Mr. Kante and Markov showed you around the department and pointed out your office.”

“They have,” Marinette looked at Max and Markov with a smile. “It looks like they’re in good hands. I don’t think I’ve seen Max this giddy since he got a tour of CERN.”

“That is great to hear. And did he run over the different options we’ve been discussing?” Lucius motioned toward the white board and neatly stacked piles of reports on the tables next to the board.

“He did,” Marinette assured him, her face turning serious as she looked at the piles of reports.

“Very briefly,” Max added.

Marinette kept her eyes focused on the whiteboard, looking over the bullet points of their conversations. “They are very ambitious plans. It will certainly be a challenge for designing and a lot to consider.”

“In any way in particular?” Lucius prompted.

Marinette considered his question for a few moments and looked between Max and Lucius. Max nodded to her. She nodded back. “If you're talking about changing the rigidity of the fabric, then I’ll need to consider how that will affect the shape. If I have it molded to a person's body when it's soft, when it gets stiff it won’t bend the same way, so it’ll lose that shape. I’d have to figure out how to make it still work.

“We should really discuss intentions for the clothes so I can design appropriately and we can make sure there is a market for the clothes.” Lucius looked at her curiously. “How large of a difference are you thinking? Because the larger the difference, the more difficult to design, but also to wear. Unless you have some way that you're keeping it in shape regardless of how rigid it is. So you need to figure out if that is an important issue for you or not. Also, thread.”

“Thread?” Max blinked a few times

“Thread,” Marinette repeated with a curt nod. “The thread I use on say silk is a lot more delicate than the thread I use on jeans or leather. Those materials are stiffer and harder and need thicker thread to hold them. But I can't use thicker thread on things like silk because it weighs the fabric down too much and ruins the shape, so you need to think about the thread. It needs to be something that can work with delicate fabric but will still hold without breaking when the fabric changes.

“Also color. If you are going to change the fabric color, then the thread will likely have to change as well.” She looked between the two men. Max was staring toward the white board with the algorithms on it in contemplation. Lucius pursed his lips as he looked at the desk. Marinette rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. “But that’s just off the top of my head. I can come up with more insightful once I’ve had more time to think.”

“That is quite a lot to consider,” Lucius nodded, finally looking back at her. “Those are important points we hadn’t yet considered but will have to be incorporated immediately. Thank you. I would very much like to discuss this further, but with more of the project involved and give you time to review some materials. Would you be available on Monday? That should give us and you time to prepare to discuss the options.”

Marinette frowned and pulled out her phone to see her calendar. “That should work.” She scoffed and waved her phone helplessly. “I pull this out like I’ve been putting anything in my calendar on it. We’re in Metropolis this weekend. I should be back by Monday.”

“Monday it is,” Lucius agreed. “Now that that is settled, I’d like to talk about logistics, setup, and ask a few questions up in my office.”

Marinette’s smile immediately dropped. She froze, her eyes widening. “Oh… um… That sounds…”

Lucius looked around the room to see who was looking their way and who might be listening in. He lowered his voice until only she and Markov could her and leaned slightly closer. “Mr. Wayne hasn’t been in before noon the last few days. I happen to know he has asked his PA to reschedule his morning appointments for today as well.” He shrugged and leaned back, keeping his voice low. “No real importance to that information just that there’s nobody up there with whom I can drink tea and it is about tea time for me.”

Marinette let out a small breath and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’d love tea.”

Lucius motioned toward the elevators. “Shall we?” He fell into step beside her. “We assume you won’t spend much time in your office, but it is fully equipped in case you would like to use it or split your time.”

“Thank you,” Marinette nodded lightly. “I haven’t decided what I want to do yet.” She looked up at him uncertainly. “Or what the contract would allow.”

Lucius grinned as he walked off the elevator on the executive floor. “It is a partnership with a designer, not employment. You are working with us, not for us. As long as we can contact you and get the fabric to you, we will allow whatever you need, Ms. Dupain Cheng.” He nodded to Bruce’s PA.

“Mr. Fox,” Bruce’s PA called out. “I wanted to double check that the new time works for your meeting today with Mr. Wayne.”

“Yes, Mr. Cortland. The new time is fine. I’ll be in my office for a bit. Can you send someone to bring in some tea for us please?” Mr. Cortland nodded and sat back down, picking up the phone to make the arrangements. Lucius opened his office door and motioned for Marinette to enter. After she had taken a seat at the small conference room Lucius watched her with a concerned look for a few seconds. “So is the trip to Metropolis for business or pleasure?”

“A bit of both,” she smiled at him. “Metropolis is one of the places we’re considering moving to so we want to look around and see if it’s some place we would like to live. Really, it’s just touring around the city.”

“You’re still deciding on where you want to live then,” he noted.

Marinette started to respond but paused when a man came in with a tray with a tea kettle and cups. She thanked him and waited until he’d left before speaking more about her plans. “We’re still thinking, yes. We’re not extremely excited to live in New York. Honestly, I think if we like Metropolis well enough this weekend, we might make the decision. Assuming Adrien gets offered the position he applied for, which I am.”

Lucius nodded as he took a sip of tea. He quirked his head to the side as he considered her answer. “Metropolis is certainly more manageable than other options, workwise, I mean. We could still have some in person meetings. Getting fabric to you would definitely be easier than say Paris, but we can push off making a decision on the logistics on that. Until then, let’s make sure you have access to the network. We’ll talk to Mr. Cortland about it when we’re done with our tea.”

Marinette smiled at him and took a sip of her tea. Lucius watched her for a moment, drinking more of his tea as well. “You know,” he started slowly, “Metropolis is close enough, you could choose to live between there and Gotham and be close enough for both of you to commute, him to Metropolis and you to Gotham… if you wanted to base your company here.”

Marinette froze momentarily, her lips perched on the edge of her teacup. She set the cup back down without taking a drink. She stared at drink for a few seconds before shaking her head. “I don’t think basing my operation in Gotham is a good idea,” she said quietly. She looked up at him with a smile and immediately looked away. The smile was supposed to be confident, quirky, not shaky. She took a moment to breathe and refocus.

“I’m trying to build my own brand without depending on M. Wayne. I’m going to face enough criticism and skepticism as it is without setting up my company ten feet from his.” She looked back at Lucius with a steely resolve. “I’ll finish my contract to the best of my ability. I’ll work with you in the future, not doing so would be business suicide, but I think a little bit of space might be good… for us both.”

Lucius gave her an understanding look. He knew something had happened. There was a reason Bruce was no longer coming in in the mornings and looked like Tim after a research bender when he finally did come in, like he had been up all night protecting someone. But he had also seen Tim’s reactions to him, the disappointed, frustrated, annoyed looks and passive aggressive comments about communication. All of which means Bruce was brooding and not talking to Marinette about it.

He swirled the tea in his cup. “You know, Bruce takes protecting those around him very seriously. He’s lost so much and is terrified of losing more. He’d give everything he has, everything he is, to protect someone he loves. But he also takes on all the guilt when he failed.”

Marinette sighed deeply and looked away, her eyes suddenly desolate. “He told you about dinner,” she said quietly.

Lucius frowned at the implications of her statement. He’d guessed Bruce had started brooding because of the Riddler incident, but clearly there was something more going on. “No. I didn’t know about dinner, I just know Bruce. I know his guilty brooding. I also know Tim and his disappointed anger at Bruce.” He leaned in closer toward her conspiratorially despite her not looking at him, hoping it would still get a smile out of her. “I’ve seen it a lot.”

He leaned back with a gentle smile. “So I don’t know what happened, but I know Bruce feels like he failed you. Which means he’s afraid of saying or doing something to make it worse, so he’s probably avoiding you, which is probably making it worse.” He faced her with a frown. “Because the worst thing in his mind is hurting you.”

Marinette continued staring at the cityscape outside the window and took a long sip of her tea. “That’s an awfully proper and long winded way to say ‘he had a reason for being an asshole and you should excuse him for it.’”

“Well, I do strive to be proper,” Lucius chuckled mirthlessly. “But I never said you should excuse him for it. I suppose it's something that the rest of us have learned to accept about him. We put up with it, but that doesn't mean you have to.”

“The problem is…” she quirked her lips as she sought the words to properly express her thoughts, “everyone keeps explaining why he acts the way he does as though that makes it okay, as though there’s some obligation on me because of it. Like understanding it means I have to build a great relationship despite it. But… there has to be trust somewhere in there too, doesn’t there? Understanding, compassion, those are supposed to go both ways, aren’t they? Everyone’s asking me to be more understanding, more forgiving, but nobody’s asking the same of him. It isn’t supposed to be the job of the child to do all the work.”

“He does get asked to do that. You don’t see it, but he is getting asked. I assure you his other children are making their positions clear,” Lucius assured her softly. “And I assure you he knows he isn’t doing what he should, but he is trying.”

Marinette scoffed. “He’s shit at it.” She took a long sip and watched some birds flying outside the window.

“I don’t disagree.” Lucius fought keeping the amused tone out of his voice, but it was a hard fight. “This whole situation is filled with everyone trying to do the right thing but failing… constantly, talking past each other, working past each other, sacrificing parts of yourselves thinking it will help, but it really just hurting everyone. It’s a comedy of errors.”

“Except it’s real life, and in real life it isn’t so funny,” Marinette whispered. She stood up and moved to the window, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.

“No, it isn’t,” Lucius agreed softly. He quietly rose up and stood next to her at the window, keeping his gaze focused outside the building. “Real life is work. Real life is hard. Real life hurts. Real life is less than ideal almost always. This situation isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t have to be abysmal either. You can choose to make the best of it.”

“But what’s the best that this situation can be?” Her voice was so quiet Lucius almost didn’t hear it.

“That is up to you and Bruce to decide.”

“It’s not just us though, is it?” she noted quietly.

“This part is,” Lucius assured her. “This part is just between you two. Your relationship with your siblings is separate and you can work that part out with them. One doesn’t have to affect the other.” He chuckled lightly, his eyes unfocusing slightly as he remembered something. “The other children have proved that well enough.”

She looked out to the skyline again, letting his words settle in, considering what they meant and if she believed them. “How do you forget? How do you move on?”

Lucius shook his head gently. “Moving on isn’t about forgetting. It’s about learning and adapting.”

Marinette finally looked over at him, her eyes pleading, looking more lost than he had seen her look before. “But what’s my lesson? What is it I’m supposed to learn here?”

Lucius’ lips turned up into a sympathetic smile. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t answer that.”

She shook her head and looked out the window again. “Because the only thing I see so far is that I shouldn’t trust M. Wayne. That I’m never going to be…” she sighed heavily and looked down. She took another deep breath and looked back up. “Weren’t there setup issues we had to resolve?”

Lucius stared at her for a few seconds, compassion shining in his eyes. “Yes we do,” he nodded lightly allowing her to change the subject. He patted her on the back and encouraged her toward the door. “Let’s get you in the system so you have access to the building and a secure email. We’ll order a laptop for you too so you can access the documents on the network.”

“Mr. Cortland,” he called out. “Can you get Ms. Dupain Cheng set up with a secure laptop with access to the network and the basic programs installed, please? And request an email for her.”

“Of course, sir,” David nodded to Lucius and started typing.

“Did you say Dupain Cheng,” a new voice spoke up. Marinette picked up on the excitement and interest in his voice with extreme apprehension. Marinette whipped around to the new voice. She looked over to Lucius to see how he responded. Her shoulders relaxed when she saw his easy smile.

“Mr. Dowd,” he held his hand out to him, “it’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Mr. Dowd gave him a bright smile. Marinette stared at him curiously. He was about her age and was too excited and happy to be an employee. Not that the Wayne Enterprises employees she’d come across so far hadn’t seemed happy or excited about their projects, but they had a professional demeanor that Mr. Dowd didn’t seem to share. “It’s always good to see you. How’s Luke?” He looked between the two of them though his eyes lingered on Marinette as if waiting until it was polite to start talking with her.

Lucius chuckled. “He’s doing well. He is supposed to come visit next weekend. I’d like to say it’s because of me, but I believe he has a date or two planned with Ms. Gordon. But let me introduce you to Ms. Dupain Cheng.” He motioned to Marinette. “Mr. Dowd, this is Ms. Dupain Cheng. Ms. Dupain Cheng, this is Mr. Dowd.”

Bernard rolled his eyes. “Please call me Bernard. I’m Tim’s boyfriend. It’s really nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you.” He held his hand out to her.

Marinette immediately relaxed and shook it. That explained the excitement and interest. It wasn’t a random person wanting a scoop on the Wayne family, it was someone wanting to get to know his boyfriend’s family. “It’s really nice to meet you. I didn’t even know Tim was dating.” Her eyes widened immediately. “Not that he doesn’t talk about you! I just haven’t had the chance to really talk to him yet.”

Bernard smiled at her for a few seconds. He shifted back and forth on his feet awkwardly. Marinette opened her mouth to tell him she had to get back to work when Bernard spoke up. “Hey, Tim and I were going to get lunch in his office. Want to join us? We were just ordering from the cafeteria because he has a meeting scheduled in like an hour. We can add something for you.”

Marinette looked over to Lucius anxiously. Lucius smiled at her and nodded in understanding. “We don’t have much more to finish, just waiting for the laptop to arrive. There’s no reason for you to sit around and wait. Go ahead.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. That wasn’t what she wanted him to understand! That wasn’t what she was trying to communicate to him. She hadn’t had really talked to Tim and every time they were close he froze up or got so tense she swore he was going to give himself a headache. Spending time with him and his boyfriend while he acted like everything was okay wasn’t going to end well for either one of them. She narrowed her eyes at Lucius. She honestly wasn’t sure if he misunderstood the source of her anxiety or if he knew what it was from the start and decided to ignore it.

Marinette turned to Bernard with a forced smile but it relaxed into a soft smile when she saw how excited he was to spend time with her. “That sounds really nice. Thank you, Bernard. Please call me Marinette.”

“Awesome, Marinette,” Bernard’s grin was a brilliant as Adrien’s and Marinette couldn’t suppress the giggle that came out. He led her toward Tim’s office. “By the end of the day, I’m going to get you to let me call you Mari. That’s the new goal for the day.”

Marinette tried unsuccessfully to suppress a snort. “And what was the old goal?”

“Prove the Miraculous team in France are actually fae,” he answered with conviction. He looked over at her, his face somehow becoming even brighter. “Hey, you’re from Paris, right? Maybe you can help answer some questions for me. This is perfect.”

Marinette stared at him wide eyed, frozen in place until Bernard looped his arm around hers and gently pulled her toward Tim’s office. Marinette chuckled and shook her head. She needed to record this conversation. Alya was going to die laughing.

Chapter 20

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#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #mbdbwm2021 #Even the Losers #prompt - Consolation/Advice

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

This Side of Normal Ch. 7

AO3

Marinette Dupain Cheng didn’t have a normal life. On the contrary, some would call her life Miraculous. Well, one would. And she would whack him every time. As much as she loved her brother (in all but blood) Adrien, she couldn’t stand his puns most of the time. After he first lost his arm a year ago at the final battle against Hawkmoth, she let him get away with a lot of puns and awful jokes. Because she blamed herself for his injury. She should’ve been able to fix him. But she wasn’t. She still blamed herself some days, but she no longer laughed at every single one of his puns. He knew she hated them, and it was better for her mental health to let him know how awful they were. She’s stirred from her thoughts by Adrien nudging her, obviously trying to get her attention.

“Where are we going for our spring break trip? You helped Mme. Bustier plan that, right?” Adrien asks. She frowns, not sure what brought that topic up.

“We’re going to spend a week in New York and then a week in London. Why?” She asks, confused at his worried expression.

“Okay well, maybe you should tell Mme. Bustier that. Because she just said that we’re spending two weeks in New Jersey.” Adrien says with a grimace.

“WHAT!?” She yells, jumping out of her seat.

“Marinette! I was trying to go over the details of the trip. I’m very disappointed in you. You know better than to interrupt like that.” Mme. Bustier says, shaking her head with a small frown. Marinette’s face turns red and she drops back into her seat, muttering an apology.

“What do you mean we’re going to New Jersey? What’s even in New Jersey?” She asks Adrien in a hushed whisper, conscious of the glares from Lila at the front of the room but determined to ignore them any way she can.

“Gotham, apparently. And the Wayne family. According to Lila, she can get us in for a tour at Wayne Enterprises and Gotham Academy and every other thing the Waynes do. Because she’s dating Damian Wayne, didn’t you know?” Adrien explains, lip quirking in amusement. Marinette groans, dropping her head onto their table.

“Do you realize now I’m going to have to arrange at least part of that? Or we won’t have anything to do and we’ll be stuck in some random city for two whole weeks.” Marinette says, a headache already forming.

“Or, or, hear me out. You could just let her fail. And the trip will flop and everyone will see that she’s awful.” Adrien says. It was a much different response than what he would’ve had a year ago. But the defeat of Hawkmoth and the revelation that his father was a supervillain was enough to alter Adrien’s world view. He wasn’t hopelessly optimistic anymore. He was more cynical. He was still insanely kind, but he didn’t give out his kindness to people who didn’t deserve it. Like the lying bitch in their class.

“I don’t wanna be stuck in a hotel with her for two weeks.” Marinette points out with a grimace. “Wait a minute, why does Gotham sound familiar?”

“Probably from when you were friends with Alya. Batman and his whole team is from Gotham.” He says, slumping down in his seat so that he can continue to whisper to her.

“Oh goody. Crime capital of the US and Lila decides to lie her way into the city. But it wasn’t enough for just her to be targeted. Oh no, she had to get our entire class involved. Yippee.” Marinette snarks, shoving her face back into her folded arms on the desk. It was too much for this early. Time for a nap.

---

After submitting a five thousand word essay on how beneficial a tour of Wayne Enterprises would be and an additional three thousand word essay to Gotham Academy on the benefits of having an exchange class for a week, Marinette was pleased to say that their trip to Gotham wouldn’t be completely boring.

In fact, it would be similar enough to what Lila had lied that hopefully, she wouldn’t be blamed for messing anything up. Sure, they wouldn’t have personal tours from the Wayne family or an invitation to the Spring Gala that the Waynes were hosting, but at least they’d have something to do in Crime City. Hopefully with the amount of security at both Gotham Academy and WE, they wouldn’t run into too many villains. After three years under Hawkmoth, she never wanted to deal with a villain again. Unless she could punch him or her in the face. Then yeah, she’d happily meet a villain. But seeing as it’s highly frowned upon to piss off a Gotham villain like that, she’d prefer to just not see one at all. Would certainly make things easier.

Marinette huffs, glaring at the mess of clothes falling out of her suitcase. She’d started packing two days ago, and then yesterday discovered that she packed the outfit she wanted to wear on the plane. So then she had to take everything out, but then she couldn’t find the outfit and after throwing everything around she found the outfit. Still in her dresser. And now she had a huge mess falling out of her suitcase and not enough time left to pack neatly. Not if she wanted to get any sleep.

“Hey Adrien, can you give me a hand?” She asks, beginning to fold the mess of clothes back up. He’s silent for a minute, and then she hears a click. She sighs and looks up just in time to catch the arm he threw at her.

“There you go!” He says cheekily, a wide grin on his face as he hangs upside down from her bed. She narrows her eyes.

“You know what I meant, you absolute menace.” She deadpans. He snorts before dropping down, landing gracefully and catching the arm she throws back at him.

“You know you love me, Bug.” He says, helping her fold her clothes.

“Unfortunately.” She says with a dramatic sigh. “You hear from Jay yet this week?”

“Yeah. Told me, and I quote ‘stop annoying Pixie Pop with your lameass jokes kid. I can’t protect you from her fury from across the ocean’.” He says with a laugh.

“At least he knows I’d best you in a fight.” She says with a hum. Adrien sputters, an offended look on his face as he slams her last shirt into her suitcase.

“That is not what that meant!” He argues with a pout.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kitty.” She says, zipping the suitcase shut and trying hard to ignore the bad feeling settling deep into her stomach. Something was going to happen in Gotham, and she wasn’t sure if it would be good or bad.

---

Of course the class would leave them on their first full day in Gotham. It made sense. They’d hated Mari before Hawkmoth’s reveal. And after Hawkmoth’s reveal, they were hesitant around Adrien. Even with the whole ‘my dad cut off my arm’ thing. So honestly, leaving the two of them stranded at the hotel was just par for the course.

“At least we’re together.” Marinette says bitterly, thinking of the fact that the class would be getting to tour Wayne Enterprises. A place that she had worked hard to allow them to tour.

“Come on Mari, look on the bright side.” Adrien says, grabbing her hand and tugging her along.

“What bright side? We were left behind, in Gotham, of all places. What could possibly be good about this situation?” She asks, slightly dragging her feet as he tugged her along behind him.

“Mmmm, the fact that Wayne Enterprises is only a block away.” He says with a grin. She straightens immediately, actually keeping up with his pace now instead of allowing herself to be dragged behind him.

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” She asks, shaking her head in faux disappointment. He shrugs.

“I like a little chaos.” He says. Marinette opens her mouth to snark back at him, but is instead silenced by the building in front of her. Wayne Enterprises was slightly intimidating, but she was still amazed by its design. It was modern and sleek and her hand twitched towards the sketchbook in her purse. She could just imagine skirts with the same sleek shapes and dark colors, suits whose build was used to make the wearer look taller. Just as she’s about to pull out her sketchbook, she sees a familiar head of hair walking into the building. Dark hair with a white streak. But-

“Was that Jason?” She asks, suddenly far more interested in the man who just walked in. Adrien’s gaze snaps to where hers is, frowning at the closed door.

“I don’t know, but let’s go see.” He says, and this time, she’s the one tugging him. Their class completely forgotten. Until they walk through the doors and hear the incessant chatter and noise that comes with being around Lila Rossi. But not enough that is enough to deter the two from their goal. Especially when the man they’d followed turns around, a familiar face set into a scowl.

“Jay!” Marinette calls, waving at him. The man’s scowl instantly drops into a wide smile and he rushes past the class, sweeping the two up into a huge hug.

“Pixie! Kid! What are you two doing here?” He asks, holding them close.

“Jay-Jay, can’t breathe.” Mari says, letting out a puff of air as he sets them down gently.

“Hey Jay!” Adrien says, a wide smile on his face, one of the most sincere smiles Mari had seen in a while. She felt her own face fall into an easy smile. After a year apart, they were together again.

“Uh. Jason? Job, remember?” A voice asks, pulling the three out of their reunion. Jason looks at the man and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, Dick, thanks. I’d completely forgotten why I came all the way here.” He snarks, no venom in his tone.

“Did you just-” Marinette starts to ask, uncertain if he was calling the man a name or?

“Shit, I forget that even though you speak it just fine, English isn’t your first language. His name is Richard, but ‘Dick’ is a nickname for Richard. It’s what he usually goes by.” Jason explains, snorting at the look on her face. She huffs and rolls her eyes.

“Well excuse me, Mr. To be fair, you calling someone that wouldn’t be out of the question. You have shitty language a lot of the time.” She teases with a smirk.

“That’s it. You’re disowned. I no longer claim you as my little sister.” He says, turning around dramatically and walking away. Marinette’s jaw drops at him. She looks at Adrien who just smirks, and then at Dick who just looks confused with the entire situation.

“What the hell was that? I thought I was the dramatic one.” She pouts.

“Looks like you’ve lost your touch Bug.” Adrien says, crossing his arms. Her eyes narrow.

“Is that a challenge?” She asks. He shrugs.

“Do with it what you will. Just don’t get him in trouble, I think he actually works here.” He says, glancing around the packed lobby. Marinette looks around and sighs. She didn’t want to make a scene with the class, and she definitely didn’t want Jason to get in trouble.

“I’ll get him later.” She mumbles, falling into place on Adrien’s right side naturally. The two walk in sync to the rest of the class, oblivious to the bewildered look given to them by Dick Grayson.

Master list

Tag list (open): @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat

#maribat #maribat jason todd #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #platonic maribat adrienette #maribat platonic adrienette #fanfic #ao3fic #platonic jasonette #This Side of Normal #maribat big brother Jason Todd #maribat fic #akuma glass goes to gotham #maribat gotham fic #maribat but make it all left au

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shit-scfandom-did · 3 years

Note

so i have a few questions

1)i cannot understand how you ship k*ramel. their relationship was FILLED with toxicity. from mon-el failing over and over again to listen to what kara had to say to him basically telling her to give up being kara danvers. convincing her that "being supergirl and having you is enough” was absolutely horrible. karamel had their moments but overall it was toxic. then in s3 mon el was married and the whole point of season 3 was allowing them to move on. accepting the toxicity from s2 and pushing past that romanticized time. mon el was a better person by 3b but he was still married. even if mon el and imra did break up in the finale there’s no future for karamel. even during 5x13 kara went to ask on advice about lena. and when winn came to visit from the future not a word about him. she’s moved on and it just wouldn’t make sense for kara to end up with him.

2) how can you hate lena so so so much?? it’s been said over and over again that all she’s ever wanted to do is good. though she’s designed to be this morally grey character. she has FLAWS but that’s what makes her so good. she’s a victim of abuse and you can see her struggle with that especially in seasons 4 and 5. in 5 she definitely goes down a questionable path but how can you expect her not too? after being emotionally abused by her brother, betrayed by her family, andrea (this did happen before kara), and then eve. finding out that kara and EVERYONE she loves has betrayed her as well. I mean how could you not go mad?? and even when she “went mad” she was trying to rid humanity of PAIN. something she later realized was a necessary part of life. her hurt blinded her from reality and lex’s manipulation pushed her down further. she’s been hurt and broken so many times and while that’s not an excuse for what she’s done you have no sympathy for her and that I find appalling. lena has realized what she’s done is wrong, that she’s made mistakes, what she did to kara, and she will have to live with that isn’t that punishment enough? she’s apologized and is trying to make up for everything she’s done by saving the world (again). your unnecessary hate towards her infuriates me. cant you take a step back and see the whole picture?

3) why DONT you ship supercorp or accept the queerbaiting? (watch this: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=C2w2GBXd_Pg) They are the core relationship of the show while the danvers sisters are the heart. they’ve gone through so so much together and practically dated in early season 2. they love each other it’s just oh so apparent. i like to believe one of the reasons lena reacted so strongly in s5 is because she was in love with kara and she couldn’t handle the person she was in love with lying to her. and kara flew around the world to get lena’s favorite food!! if that’s not romantic idk what is. I feel like you’ve developed such a clouded view of supercorp that you need to take a step back and understand what lena is the love of kara’s life.

wow what a long message. im not here to hate. im here to inform & undertand. i get it. karamel had their moments and even MY perception of them might be a little cloudy. im not going to hate you for liking them. hell I even shipped them for a little! my brother thinks 3b mon el and kara would’ve been perfect but he understands that supercorp is just where the show is leading and he wants them to be endgame. but what I will hate is your hate. what’s the point of all this? this thread, this account is going to do NOTHING. so why bother? I debated sending this and I hope I’m not too harsh at times but I really wanna see what you say. I hope you can open your eyes to lena and supercorp. maybe even become a supercorp shipper yourself!

- thanks and supercorp endgame 💙❤️

First of all, if you want to discuss ships in the future send this type of anons to facepalming-since-chernobyl, this blog is not for this, but for gathering receipts.

1.I just ship it, I don’t get why you have to understand it. It’s shipping. But if you insist:

No, it was not filled with toxicity. Count me when he failed to listen to her when they were in a relationship. Secondly, he is not a dog, he has his brain, he is his own person. People don’t always do what others asked them to do. It’s not slavery.

He has NEVER said to her to give up being Kara Danvers. How did he exactly convince her? How can you read the scene that he convinced her that being supergirl and having him is erasing Kara Danvers? In this scene he supports anything SHE WANTS to do. Also, Kara Danvers doesn’t equal Kara being a reporter in CatCo. On that moment she had her blog. She change people’s live with it like a real reporter. She took the risk and met consequences of her actions aka being fired by Snapper. Also, remind me who told her to create a blog? With your logic Lena was erasing Kara Danvers too.

Friendly reminder that he was forced to the marriage to keep peace. Also, friendly reminder Imra and the Legion out him in this situation without telling him about her plans. She and Brainiac put him there, knowing exactly how much he loved Kara and how much she meant to him. Imra knew that, that’s why she asked him to stay and solve his feelings. She said if he had come back, she would have known he had no doubts. But he wanted to stay, that’s why they broke up. He came back because once again he sacrificed himself for the greater good, like a real hero. Maybe watch the Argo eps because they clearly show that no, it was no about moving on.

It was not accepting about so called toxicity. First of all, she already forgave him that he lied. Secondly, all of she was screaming in that scene, when she was infected with M’rynn’s powers, happened before they got together and it was already approached in the musical ep. Aka, this scene had no point.

There is no future for karamel because you say so?

Kara went to asked him, because she truly believed and trusted him and his judgment. And yes, she asked about Lena and what did he said? That Kara deserved the same compassion she gives others, something Lena never gave her. And sorry, I know all scs scream the 100 ep was about sc, but it was about Kara fully realizing she is not responsible for Lena’s horrible choices. That’s it. And friendly reminder she called her a villain in the last scene. Also, the ep showed than no matter what, Lena always ends screwing something, because she has too big ego, always knows better, doesn’t stand criticism and doesn’t trust anyone.

It doesn’t make sense for you. Suit yourself.

2.Her fans made me hate her :) Thanks to them and how they excuse her every horrible action, how they treat her as a victim, while she abuse everyone etc. I started to watch her more carefully. And well, she is a horrible, white, privileged capitalist, who plays god, judge, jury, has mommy issues and acts like typical Luthor while crying she is not one, while still using Luthors money and resources.

Yeah, many people want to make good and end doing evil things. Common people pay for their sins, she has never. Since allowing hostile Daxamite army to invade the Earth (also, her portal affected the other aliens who destroyed the NC), producing a device that could recofnize aliens without their consent (and it was used by Children of Liberty,)producing and lying about Kryptonite, trying to make people superpowered without any supervision, killing Adam during illegal experiment, supporting openly alienphobic president and in a way Agent Liberty, killing Lex and then blaming Kara and finally manipulating Kara for months, lying, gaslighting, yelling, making her steal Lex journal, trying to lobotomize her and tortured with kryptonite, hurting every way possible, physically and mentally. Working with mass murderer, enslaving 3 people (kidnapping Eve, without her consent putting AI into her mind, basically RAPING her brain and making her a puppet in her own body; enslaving end experimenting on Malefic and Russel – threatening to kill him to steal Andrea’s necklace) – none of it are flaws. It was horrible abuse and violating every human right and the fact some people excuse it is disgusting.

First of all, being victim of abuse doesn’t give you the rights to HURT other people. The fact I have to explain pains me. Secondly, what abuse exactly? Lillian didn’t love her? Lex kidnapped her? Said he was going to kill her? You know what? Winn HAD HORRIBLE past and he didn’t turn into a murderer. Mon-El was abused by his mother and never tortured Kara with Kryptonite. J’onn killed a lot of white martians but last time I checked he doesn’t feel good about it. Also, never said the things he has done were GOOD. See a difference?

Yeah, and all of it, still doesn’t give her the rights to torture people. Also, friendly reminder she lied to Supergirl about Kryptonite in s3, much before the whole drama. Remember how she destroyed the life of a girl that stole boyfriend in middle school? It clearly shows she always had THAT in her. Plus, sorry not sorry, if she wanted different life, outside her family she could have easily done that. She was in Star City, with Jack, doing her researches, making her career. And she threw it all away, because she WANTED to be a Luthor.

Plus, sorry not sorry, if you feel betrayed and hurt because your friend didn’t tell you something she didn’t OWE you, you go to therapy, not trying to lobotomize entire planet.

Mate, she wanted to lobotomizer entire humanity, without ANYONE’S consent, because SHE, one single Lena, felt hurt. This is playing a GOD. Nothing explains it.

Planning a cold ass revenge for months is not being blinded by feelings.

Once again, even if could argue about how many times she was broken, most of that was a white privileged life she chose herself but whatever, it still doesn’t excuse her. All of she has done should meet consequences. Paying for shit you have done, accepting it, fully realizing what you have done is a part of redemption. Still in s5 she didn’t even apologize to Kara. Because she still didn’t understand what she has done and doesn’t feel sorry about it.

Feel appalled as much as you want, because I’m not going to feel sorry for a white, privileged woman who has never paid for her actions and is basically a living avatar of the worst Karen you can imagine.

She realized Lex was using her horrible experiments (remember? She experimented on puppies too) to his own agenda, that’s why she went to Kara. That’s not grasping a thing. Mhm, if you call that an apology then suit yourself. She is not saving the world, she is helping once again other people fixing the shit she created.

Feel infuriated as much as you want, because I don’t care? Especially when it comes from a person who tells others to take a step back while being totally narrow minded about Mon-El and karamel.

3.Because actors, prodcuers, writers call SC a female friendship. Mel did that in her last interview. See whatever you want but maybe stop forcing people to ship a horribly abusive ship.

Well… no. Kara is the heart and soul of the Supergirl. Alex is her most important relationship. Lena is an important friend, who doesn’t deserve it yet, but we all know Kara is the Paragon of Hope so of course she is going to forgive her.

I know you people think sc dated because they breathed in one room, but in s2 Kara dated, had sex, kissed, cuddled and enjoyed her time with Mon-El.

Yeah, they love each other as friends. It was said more than once.

That’s your delusion, you are free to do it.

Kara done that to Alex too, so you are saying she is romantically in love with her sister or something? If bringing people food is romantic and damn, most of the people I know loves me, god.

No, lena is not Kara’s love of her life.

Cool, you are not going to hate me because I ship karamel, I’m touched.

Sorry that you are going to be super disappointed in the end of the show I guess.

You will hate my hate – what’s the point of it?

Once again, because I don’t think you understand the point of this blog or read the description – it’s gathering receipts of assholes who cross tag and hate on the actors. Maybe go and search #gross hate or #cast hate on this blog so you can see how amazing your fandom is. Have fun.

I would rather eat my own shit than starting shipping the victim of abuse with her abuser.

Thanks and no :)

#anons

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the-scandalorian · 4 years

Text

Tempered Glass: Chapter 4

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, non-graphic description of blood and injury, cursing, alcohol consumption Summary: You and Mando choose Sorgan as your place to lay low, only to get wrangled into a risky job. Notes: I didn’t post last week, so have two chapters! Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme @beskarhearts @dincrypt @honey-hi @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @red-leaders @zoemariefit

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

The next few days passed in a haze of planning and training. You helped instruct the villagers in hand-to-hand combat alongside Cara and firearms training with Mando. When Cara asked why you happened to be proficient in both skills, you told her that working with the clientele you did occasionally necessitated self-defense. That was true enough.

After a day or two, however, you decided it was best to leave the blaster training up to Mando. You focused on assisting Cara, who was good company, and joined the crew that was constructing barricades and digging trenches.

It was irritating to feel a tinge of jealousy at the comfortable way Mando interacted with Omera so soon after meeting her. She was beautiful and clever, welcoming and kind. You understood her appeal. Still, despite yourself, you were annoyed by their borderline flirtatious interactions.

You could practically feel Mando’s heart drop when Omera was the only villager to raise her hand when he asked the group who knew how to shoot. He looked like he might actually be in physical pain as he watched her hit the pan she was aiming for over and over in quick succession during target practice. He was visibly tense, holding his shoulders back uncomfortably far as he regarded her, deeply impressed.

You were honestly even a little nettled by easy relationship that had developed organically between Cara and Mando. Their connection was strictly platonic, but they acted like they’d been friends for years.

Why is it so different with me?

Both of these developments were irritating, but what really drove you to avoid Mando was your frustration at yourself. This wasn’t the plan. You weren’t supposed to get invested or attached—both because you’d part ways soon enough and because you were witnessing Mando get attached to someone else.

It was easy enough to limit your interactions with him during the day. You spent what little spare time you had playing with the kid and the gaggle of children that followed him around to squeal at every adorable flap of his ears, or wandering through the forest. You always stayed closed to village, but it was relief to get some time alone. As nice as it was to have regular company—something you’d wanted for so long—you also missed some aspects of your solitary existence. It was simple and comfortable. It was what you knew best.

***

At night, you made sure to stay away from the barn as long as possible so Mando could have plenty of time to eat and do whatever else he did with his helmet off.

Each night, you would approach the barn after dark had fallen, making sure to stomp loudly up the steps. You’d stand off to the side of the doorway and knock, waiting to hear the telltale sound of beskar dragging across the wooden windowsill and the subsequent hiss as he fit the helmet back over his head.

The fourth night, however, when Mando arrived back at the barn in the early evening, he stopped at the doorway.

You had stacked every box, crate, and stray item in a line down the center of the back half of the room to make a barrier that was as high as your shoulder. You’d hung a sheet across both sides, so you each had an enclosed space.

“I know it doesn’t fix it, but I thought it might make you feel better? I promise not to get up with out warning you... I know you’ll probably keep your helmet on anyways, but I have to imagine sleeping in it is killing your neck, and since you won’t let me figure out somewhere else to sleep, this is the best I could come up with,” you stopped rambling, punctuating the end of your sentence with a decisive nod.

“Thank you,” he said.

You were relieved—and slightly surprised—when later that night, after darkness had fallen and you were tucked under your blankets, hovering on the edges of sleep, you heard a hiss and a thunk, which you registered as him removing his helmet and setting it on the floor. It was slightly harder to fall sleep knowing that Mando was only feet away from you, helmetless.

The warmth that blossomed in your chest at this display of trust stayed with you well into the next day.

***

The next night, after a long day of training, you were back in the barn, getting cleaned up before bed. Mando, having just entered, was untying the knot in his cape. The kid was standing in his crib, tiny hands gripping the bars, watching you and Mando with eager curiosity.

Seated on a crate, you pulled the necklace that was tucked under your shirt over your head, preparing to wash the sweat and grime of the day off you. You leaned over to stow it in a tiny zip pocket on the outside of your bag, when you felt a tug on the thin gold chain. You looked down at your hand, thinking the child must have tottered over when you weren’t looking. But, looking up, you saw that he wasn’t near you. He was still standing in his crib, and he whined at you, his tiny hand outstretched. He seemed concerned, his eyes squinted and forehead wrinkled in concentration.

You looked from the necklace in your hand to the kid and back.

“What the—?”

You glanced at Mando. He was watching you, the cape he was folding frozen in his hands. He dropped the cape and strode over to the crib to grab the child, hugging him tight to his chest. He turned to leave the barn, walking to the doorway. The child struggled against him, until his big ears and eyes appeared over Mando’s shoulder, a tiny hand stretched toward you again.

Curious, you opened your hand and straightened your arm, offering the necklace on your palm.

The baby’s face wrinkled in concentration once again. Mando was almost out the door when the necklace jerked out of your hand and flew across the room. The chain hooked on one of the kid’s tiny fingers. He grasped it, and the purple crystal at the end of it clinked distinctively when it collided with Mando’s pauldron. Mando stopped dead in his tracks.

Your jaw dropped. Mando whirled around, adjusting his grip on the child so he could see the necklace clutched in his tiny hand, the pendant swinging back and forth like a pendulum. The baby was cooing and wiggling his ears in triumph. His other hand grabbed at the crystal.

Mando’s entire demeanor shifted in the space of a second. He stopped breathing and crossed the space between you in a few long strides, raising a hand to point a threatening finger at your chest.

“You can’t tell anyone.” The anger in his voice failed to conceal the fear underneath it, even through the modulator.

“I won’t.” You were absolutely bewildered by this development, but you’d never do anything that would endanger the child.

Mando stayed frozen like that, his hand outstretched. In his arms, the child tittered and cooed, examining the object clasped in his tiny hands.

“Mando, I promise. I won’t.”

He nodded, dropping his accusing hand, and looked down to gently extricate the necklace from the three-fingered hand it was wrapped around. You could see the reflection of the baby’s huge, imploring brown eyes in Mando’s visor. The baby let out a frustrated huff in protest and began to whine in earnest when Mando successfully disentangled the necklace.

He thrust it back into your hand, turned on his heel, and left.

The Mandalorian has a baby... Jedi? And he does not want to talk about it.

***

After two weeks of preparation, the day finally arrived. Tension was high among the villagers as the final arrangements were made. The plan was reviewed, and finally, the sun began to set. You and Mando headed back to the barn to gear up.

It only took a few minutes for Mando to grab all he needed. Slinging his rifle across his back, he walked toward the doorway and paused. He turned around to face you.

“We’re headed out. You’ll make sure the kid is safe with the others?” he asked.

“Of course. Be careful out there.”

“You too.” He gave you a curt nod and swept out the door.

You gathered what you needed, delivered the child to the building that was designated for children and a couple caretakers, and took your place with the villagers behind one of the barricades. You shared words of reassurance with those around you.

The night passed in a blur of adrenaline. You had been put in charge of one of two groups of the villagers who were capable of fighting. Omera led the other. Mando and Cara attacked the raider’s camp, drawing them out of the forest. The Klatooinians rushed the village, purposefully funneled to the open space between your group and Omera’s by the barricades, and the AT-ST stuttered into view shortly after.

The villagers were roughly trained soldiers, but in the end, it was enough to scare off the Klatooinians—especially once Mando and Cara managed to lure the reluctant walker into the trap, incapacitating their largest weapon.

Halfway through the fight, your blaster jammed, so you traded it for one you took off a dead Klatooinian. It was large and awkward in your hands, but it did the job well enough.

When the walker fell and the remaining Klatooinians turned tail, the villagers began to cheer, letting their guard down immediately. Mando and Cara disappeared into the woods after the retreating raiders to clear out any stragglers.

You scanned the dark scene from where you stood behind the krill ponds to ensure that every Klatooinian had left. When you turned back toward the village, you noticed an injured raider, who had been lying on the ground, lurched to his feet. He started towards Omera, who was kneeling beside an injured villager, tending their wounds, with her back to him. As he stood, he pulled a long knife from is belt.

“Omera!” you yelled. She looked around at the sound of her name and exclaimed when she saw the man charging her, only a few feet away. Her hands scrabbled along the ground around her, trying to locate her blaster. The other villagers in the vicinity, caught off guard, froze and watched in horror.

You fumbled with the safety on the unfamiliar blaster in your hands, feeling slow and awkward. Fuck.

You sprinted forward to position yourself between Omera and the Klatooinian, catching him off guard and meeting his face with the butt of the heavy blaster. He growled in pain, closing his eyes for a moment as he reeled back, slashing the air blindly with his blade. You took the chance to kick him in the stomach, putting all your weight behind it. He doubled over, but managed to throw out his arm as he stumbled backwards, just as you were drawing your leg back. You cried out in pain as his blade bit through the meat of your calf.

Omera, who had recovered behind you, shot the raider before he hit the ground.

You staggered back, breathing hard, and sat on the ground abruptly, gritting your teeth at the sharp pain. He’d cut deep into your muscle, leaving a laceration as long as your hand. Bacta would fix you well enough, but it hurt like a bitch. It was bleeding freely, thick droplets of blood running down your shin into your boot. Without thinking, you ripped your shirt off over your head, leaving you in just your breast band, and wrapped it tight around your calf to staunch the bleeding. Several villagers rushed over to help you, but you waved them off, reassuring them that you had it under control.

Omera knelt beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Thank you for having my back,” she said genuinely.

You smiled at her and covered her hand with yours: “Anytime. Thanks for having mine.”

You heard the familiar clank of Mando’s armor behind you. He must have finished flushing out the nearby trees. He crouched next to you.

“What happened?”

“Knife wound. Not bad. I’ll be fine.”

Blood was rapidly soaking through the thick fabric of your shirt. Okay, I might need stitches.

“You need stitches,” Mando said, verbalizing your thought.

“Yeah.”

“I can do those for you,” Omera offered. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you nodded.

She threaded a hand under your arm to help you to your feet. You started to get up.

“I got her,” said Mando, waving Omera away. She moved back.

You were too focused on the stinging pain of your leg to process what he meant. Mando got to his knees and leaned forward to slip an arm under the crook of your knees and one around your back. You flinched at the feeling of the cold beskar on your side.

“Mando, I can walk,” you protested, surprised, as he lifted you. You instinctively wrapped an arm behind his neck, while your other hand held tight to the shirt around your calf.

“You’re losing too much blood.”

His chest plate was cold against your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You were surprised when he turned in the direction of the barn where the two of you slept, instead of toward the structure that had been designated for medical care. On the way there, he poked his head into the room where the kids were hidden. The child chirped happily up at the two of you from where he was seated in Winta’s lap. Satisfied, Mando turned to carry you the rest of the way to the barn.

If you weren’t exhausted and in pain, you’d probably be more acutely aware of how exposed you were in just your breast band in his arms. You would probably be enjoying the easy way he was carrying you.

He stepped onto the porch in one stride and strode inside, setting you down gently on your blankets. You lay back immediately, bending your injured leg to keep the pressure steady with a tight grip on your shirt. You closed your eyes, trying to not focus on the pain. You heard Mando rummaging around.

“My med pack is in my backpack,” you said. “Will you hand it to me?”

But when you opened your eyes, you saw that he already had his own med pack open on the floor next to you.

“I have anesthetic bacta spray. I’ll use that first so you don’t feel the stitches.” He held up an aerosol can to show you.

Knowing how expensive that was, you protested: “No, no, save that for something more serious. I’ll be okay. I’ve had stitches before.”

“It’ll be easier for me if I know I’m not hurting you,” he insisted, a note of genuine concern in his voice.

“I can handle it.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? Yes, I can. I’ve done it before.”

“Will you just let me do it?” he asked, exasperated.

“Are you okay though? Don’t you have any injuries?”

“No. Beskar,” he replied, tapping his chest plate. “Just let me do it,” he pressed with an imploring head tilt.

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly. “Thank you.”

He moved down to your calf, taking the shirt gently from your hands. When his fingers brushed yours, you registered that it wasn’t a glove you felt—his hand was bare.

You closed your eyes again, trying not to fixate on the feeling of his bare skin on yours. Plus, you still weren’t sure if seeing his bare skin would somehow violate his Creed.

He peeled back the fabric slowly. You winced.

“The worst of the bleeding has stopped,” he said, using the shirt to wipe away the drying blood on your skin. “I’m applying the spray.”

You nodded vaguely, then hissed through your teeth at the sting of cold spray on your leg, but the effects were immediate—the pain disappeared instantly, completely.

“Ah, fuck, I forgot how good that stuff is. I got so used to getting patched up without it.”

He let out a grunt of agreement. “Stay still.”

“I will.”

You glanced down at Mando, appreciating how out of place he looked, his large metal form crouched over your leg, administering precise medical care with careful movements.

Feeling like you were in good hands, with the pain gone, you let the fatigue overtake you. Your eyes drifted closed.

Sometime later—you weren’t sure how long in your hazy state—you felt Mando move beside you. You opened your eyes, and he was on his knees by your shoulder, his gloveless hand hovering a couple inches above your arm like he wasn’t sure whether or not he was going to touch you. You gave him a sleepy smile, and in a sudden movement, he lowered his hand the rest of the way down to your bare shoulder.

I guess it isn’t against the Creed to reveal your skin to someone else.

“I’m done.”

“Thank you,” you replied, reaching up to pat the hand on your shoulder. You kept the gesture brief, concerned that your touch might prompt him to pull his hand away.

He didn’t.

His hands were softer than you were expecting.

“Rest,” he instructed. “I put water next to you.”

He stood to leave, the weight of his warm hand retreating with him.

You tried not to overthink how tender Mando had been with you. You didn’t want to process what it meant or the fact that it sort of left you swooning. Though, maybe that was the blood loss.

As you drifted to sleep, you thought about what the future might hold. It was a relief that the fight was over and the village was safe, but it also meant your job here was done and it would soon be time to leave Sorgan. You weren’t sure what this meant for your partnership—if you could really even call it a partnership—with Mando. Would you go your separate ways now?

It wasn’t until the next morning—when you were examining the precise row of stiches on your calf—that you realized, with great dismay, you’d exposed the scar on your chest to Mando, Omera, and a handful of other villagers.

***

The following evening was a celebration. The entire village stayed up late into the night eating, talking, and drinking in the long hall.

After dinner, you were five shots into a drinking game with Cara when Mando rejoined the two of you. You were drinking a clear liquor, something stronger than spotchka that you didn’t know the name of.

Mando sat down stiffly across from you, watching the two of you howl with laughter over a joke he’d missed.

“I was just here half an hour ago. How are you both already drunk?”

“We’re efficient,” said Cara in a mock-serious tone.

“You want to play, Mando? I could get you a straw,” you offered.

He tilted his head, and the sassiness of the gesture made you cackle.

Cara laughed heartily, slapping her hand on her thigh: “I guess that’s his way of saying he can’t handle his booze.”

“What exactly are the rules of this game?” he asked.

“We stopped worrying about the rules awhile ago,” you admitted.

“So who’s winning?”

“Me!” you declared, reaching for the half-empty bottle once again.

“I don’t know about that,” said Cara, skeptically, snatching the bottle and unsteadily pouring two more shots. She handed one to you.

“Maybe you guys have had enough,” Mando said, reaching out to take the glasses from Cara.

“Maybe you’re not the boss of us,” you sassed, knocking his hand out of the way and tipping the proffered shot down your throat. You were drunk enough that it didn’t burn anymore.

“We’re celebrating, Mando!” Cara proclaimed before she downed hers too, and you both laughed at the long-suffering sigh that Mando let out.

A woman that Cara had been spending most of her free time with sauntered over to your table and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Cara smirked.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to,” she said, standing and taking the woman’s hand.

“Have fun,” you said, winking.

“You too,” she shot back.

You turned to Mando: “Welp, looks like you’re my new drinking buddy.”

He sat silent, helmet following Cara and the other woman as they left the hall.

“Oookay, then. I’m going to bed.” You slapped your palms onto the table and pushed yourself up.

Mando followed you as you stepped out into the cool night.

“Where’s the kid?” you asked.

“Asleep already.”

“That’s good. Babies need sleep.”

“He’s fifty.”

You turned to Mando, spluttering, “Fifty?!”

“Different species age differently,” he shrugged.

“Yeah, no shit... Still, that’s crazy. You have a fifty-year-old toddler. Your baby is older than you...I mean, I assume so. I don’t know how old you are. If I had to guess, I would say... Is that rude? I probably shouldn’t guess...”

Not paying attention, you started wandering in the wrong direction, and Mando laid a guiding hand on your lower back.

“Come on,” he sighed, directing you toward the barn.

You pushed out the loudest, most dramatic sigh you could muster, and he looked down at you.

“That’s you. That’s what you sound like. You looooove sighing, you know that? It’s your favorite thing, second only to the kid. You might like it even more than the kid, actually,” you mused, making yourself chuckle.

“You’re a chatty drunk,” he observed.

“Everyone is chatty compared to you, Mando.”

He grunted.

“What are you like when you’re drunk? I want to see that. Do you even drink?” You stopped walking, and he did too, visor trained on you.

“Sometimes.”

“I bet you’re a nice drunk.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, no, I know so. Because secretly you’re a nice not drunk person so I bet you’re an extra nice drunk person.” Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered that your usual verbal filter was completely gone. Oh well.

“Is that right?”

“Yep, you pretend to be all scary with your sexy voice and your blasters and your bounty hunting and your fire bracelet and your shiny outfit, but really you are soft, and you love babies and helping people and carrying injured friends.”

“My sexy voice?” He titled his head suggestively.

“Really? That’s what you took from that?” You hiccupped. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what your voice sounds like. This is the way.” You hit him with your best Mando impression.

He chuckled.

Your mouth fell open, and you pointed up at him, incredulous. “You laughed.”

“I did.”

“Well, don’t do it too much or I might start to think that you’re a real human being under all that.” You gestured at his beskar.

“We wouldn’t want that,” he said, and you both started walking toward the barn again.

“Look at you, making jokes.” You tripped slightly, and Mando steadied you.

“My boot is untied,” you announced, flopping onto the ground unceremoniously to tie it.

Mando set his hands on his hips and leaned down to watch you.

You held a palm up to him. “Before you do it, I’ll sigh for you,” you said, letting out another exaggerated exhale.

He crouched down in front of you and batted your hand away, pulling your laces tight to knot them.

“You’re trying my shoe,” you said stupidly.

“Yeah, because you’re taking too long.”

“You don’t have to wait for me, you know. I am perfectly capable of getting back by myself. You can go to bed.” You waved dismissively in the direction of the barn.

“I’m not going to leave you out here drunk and alone.”

“See.” You tapped a finger against his chest plate. “Soft.”

“I guess so.”

“Andddd, I think you still feel the need to babysit me because you don’t trust me.”

He looked up at you. “That’s not true.”

“Convincing.”

He shook his head and stood up. You reached out both hands, and he gripped them, pulling you to your feet.

“How’s your leg?” he asked, replacing his hand on your back.

“Oh, it’s good. You make very tiny, very neat stitches. I was impressed. I assume you’ve had lots of practice.”

He hummed.

You hiccupped again.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” you scowled up at him. “I’m not even that drunk.”

He pushed your shoulder lightly, and you stumbled.

“Hey! That’s cheating!”

“Proved my point though.”

Putting all your weight behind it, you shoved his arm as hard as you could in retaliation. He didn’t falter. Taking a different tack, you snaked a hand under his arm and tickled his unarmored side. He leaped away from you.

“WHY!?” he grunted.

“You’re ticklish!” you announced triumphantly.

“No. I’m not.” But he was careful to stay more than an arm’s distance away from you.

“Yes, you are! But don’t worry, I will take your secret to my grave,” you promised solemnly, placing a hand over your heart. “It wouldn’t be good for business if everyone knew the greatest bounty hunter in the parsec could be bested via tickling.” Your voice cracked, and you dissolved into giggles.

Mando halted and turned to you, putting his hands on his hips again.

“Oh, Mando, lighten up. I’m just teasing you.”

In two decisive steps, Mando closed the distance between you, crowding you backward. You looked up at him, surprised, unable to get a read on him. “I didn’t mean—.”

In one swift movement, he hauled you over his shoulder.

“Hey!!”

He chuckled and tightened his hold around the back of your thighs. You surrendered quickly, going limp. His pauldron dug uncomfortably in your stomach, but otherwise, it wasn’t so bad.

“That is the second time you’ve laughed in the last five minutes. Are you feeling okay? Are you sure you didn’t sustain some sort of head injury yesterday?” you asked.

“Pretty sure, but I’m starting to think you might have.”

“Hilarious. You know, I could still tickle you like this,” you threatened, trailing a hand down his side.

“Not if you don’t want me to drop you,” he warned, jolting you slightly to demonstrate.

You huffed. “You can’t just cuff me or pick me up any time I’m inconvenient. That’s not how friendship works.”

“I think it works well for us,” he said as he climbed the steps to the barn.

***

The following two weeks were a period of peaceful recovery and restoration. You, Mando, and Cara helped the village return their home to normal—disposing of the dead raiders, breaking down the AT-ST, taking down the barricades, filling in the trenches. Every day, as there was less and less to do, you wondered when Mando would broach the topic of leaving. You had a feeling he, like you, was also putting it off for as long as possible. You were enjoying the easy routine you’d fallen into, spending time with the kid, Mando, Cara, and Omera; you’d happened into a community and were loath to leave it.

You were seated on the porch of the barn, watching the clouds roll slowly across the sky, when you noticed Mando making his way over.

As he walked toward you, you admired (not for the first time) the way the soft, green light of Sorgan danced across the surface of his beskar. You looked him up and down surreptitiously, wondering if he’d always worn such an elaborate outfit or if it had evolved over time. You knew the armor at least had been replaced. But had he always worn a cape? And like three layers of clothes? And the sash-like bandolier? You weren’t familiar enough with Mandalorian culture to know if they strapped all of that on as kids or if they donned the armor at a certain age...or how any of it worked.

Your eyes paused at his middle. Weren’t utility belts usually worn lower, on the hips? Not cinched closer to the trimmest part of the waist? It did seem to secure the softer part of his armor that covered his stomach, so maybe it had to be positioned there. The idea that Mando had thought about his silhouette when donning his armor was absurd... but something told you that it was not impossible. Honestly, you hoped the belt was just as much for fashion as it was for function because that was too funny. The man wears a cape... it is definitely possible that more than one part of his outfit is both aesthetic and practical.

You definitely weren’t complaining. You enjoyed the view.

You wondered if he fully understood the nature of his effect on people. He was acutely aware of how intimidating he could be; he wielded that advantage liberally and expertly, but you were unsure if he was aware of his appeal. It wasn’t just you who was drawn to him in that way—Omera, for one, was immediately taken with him. And you saw how others in the cantina that first day, or in the Sorgan public house, or even here in the village trailed their eyes down his body when he wasn’t looking.

Your face burned slightly at the memory of telling him he had a sexy voice. You were grateful you hadn’t admitted anything more embarrassing, and that he hadn’t brought it up again. To your relief, that night of joking with him had shifted things slightly—he’d been a little more relaxed around you since.

Mando walked up the steps and leaned on the wall of the barn, joining you on the porch. He glanced down at you.

“How was your patrol?” you asked.

“Good, no sign of any raiders.”

You nodded and let silence hang between you for a long moment.

“That fight was too much action for a backwater town like this though—word travels fast and it’s been a couple weeks. We should cycle the charts and move on.”

Your eyes found the child, who was seated amidst a group of children in the middle of the village. He looked so happy, giggling and playing outside in the sun. Krill flopped on the ground around him.

“I know you’re right, but the idea of taking him away from this place is... hard to think about. He’s so happy here.” You nodded your head toward the baby.

Mando heaved a sigh. He stared forward as he said, “I’m leaving him here. Traveling with me—that’s no life for a kid. I did my job, he’s safe—”

You were shocked.

“Your job, Mando? Your job was to turn in an innocent child for a bounty, and you knew that was wrong, so you didn’t. After that, he became your responsibility, not just a job.” The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

You looked away from him, suddenly cold. He said nothing.

“I don’t understand you. You flip flop between being heartless and being caring. How do you go from saving him to leaving him in some random village? He’s attached to you. Please, explain it to me because I don’t understand.” You made no effort to hide the venom that was seeping into your voice, as every frustration you’d felt toward Mando over the last couple weeks bubbled to the surface at once.

You looked up at him. His helmet was trained on your face.

“He’ll get over it. We all do.”

You glared up at him.

“Why don’t you stay here with him? You could settle down with Omera. You know she wants you to stay.”

“She asked me to stay, but I don’t belong here.”

“You could if you wanted to. Don’t pretend like you don’t have a choice.”

You stood and walked away, leaving him on the porch. You couldn’t stand to look at his infuriatingly blank mask for one more second.

You stomped all the way to the forest’s edge and passed under the cover of the trees. You walked until you reached a clearing surrounded by chest-high berry bushes and began to pace back and forth.

What is he thinking?

How could he do that to the child?

How could he just leave him like that?

You knew it didn’t make sense that you would have a say in what happened to the kid, but you couldn’t help the fact that you’d grown attached to them both over the past several weeks. You wanted Mando to be the man you suspected he was—soft and kind-hearted. You didn’t want him to confirm that the moments of selflessness had been outliers, and he was really the ruthless bounty hunter that he looked like on the outside.

But...he was right that his life was not the best life for a child. You thought about your own lonely, unsettled, nomadic existence—not unlike Mando’s. Except, his life also included regular violence in a way that yours hadn’t in a long time. His life would be even worse for a child than yours.

And it made sense that he wasn’t willing to abandon his entire way of life, everything he knew to stay on Sorgan. That was a lot of ask of anyone. He didn’t ask for this.

You’d come out here to calm down but had only made yourself more irritated now that you’d come to the annoying conclusion that Mando was probably right. You huffed.

The threatening crunch of twigs off to your left brought you back to the present moment. You crouched amidst the bramble of berry bushes.

You watched through the tangle of branches as a figure made their way carefully through the forest. They were carrying a long rifle, their face concealed in a mask.

A bounty hunter. A tracking fob blinked in their hand.

Who is their target? The kid? Me? No, it can’t be me. The fob isn’t beeping fast enough. Mando? Cara? Probably the kid. The thought made your heart squeeze.

You stood silently to follow, keeping a safe distance behind them.

The hunter stopped at the edge of the forest, where the view of the village was clear, and set up the sniper rifle on a boulder. You waited to see where the sight was trained before making your move.

Sure enough, the scope was aimed at the baby, who was sitting on the ground beside a krill pond with Winta. Omera was standing in the water, submerging a basket, beside them.

You rushed forward, raising your blaster to the back of the hunter’s head, and pulled the trigger. Birds screeched and took off into the sky in response to the sound.

You smashed the tracker fob under the heel of your boot before rushing back to the village, knowing the ringing shot would have incited panic.

As you sprinted back to the village center, you spotted Mando. He was standing close to Omera, one hand placed reassuringly on her shoulder. The child was held tight in his other arm. Winta was hugged against her mother’s stomach. They looked like a family, the way they were huddled together.

When Mando saw you, he dropped his hand from Omera’s shoulder.

“What happened?” He looked you up and down, inspecting you for any signs of injury.

“There was a hunter in the woods. I took them out. They had a fob for the kid, Mando. They know he’s here,” you panted.

Neither of you spoke, sharing a moment of mutual understanding. You reached over to lightly stroke the kid’s ear. He cooed up at you.

“What does this mean?” asked Omera.

“It means that he isn’t safe here,” responded Mando. The pain in his voice was clear, even through the modulator.

Omera reached out for Mando’s hand, and he took hers for a moment, squeezing it gently before letting it drop.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He nodded stiffly. “Me too.”

You and Mando both turned to head to the barn at the same time. As you walked beside him, you looked over to find his helmet trained on you.

“I—uh, I owe you an apology. This would be a great place for any child to grow up—safe, loving. I get why you wanted to leave him here. I’m sorry that he won’t be able to stay now.”

Mando reached his hand out, as if to touch your arm, then thought better of it and let it fall to his side.

“You know, I actually did turn him in for the reward,” he admitted. “That’s how I got enough beskar for the new armor.” He gestured at his chest plate, hanging his head slightly, ashamed.

You looked at him, eyes wide in surprise.

“I regretted it right away and went back for him. That’s when I ran into you. Or, I guess, you ran into me. ” He let out a small huff of a laugh.

You grimaced, remembering the pain of slamming into his back.

“I understand why you were mad,” he continued. “But, I didn’t want to leave him here. I’m still trying to work out what’s best for him, but I know it’s not staying with me forever.” The thread of grief in his voice was pronounced.

You nodded in understanding, wishing you could somehow help him carry this profound responsibility. You weren’t sure how to express that, or if he wanted to hear it, or if it was your place to say it, so you settled on something else: “He’s easy to get attached to.”

Mando scoffed, “You’re telling me.”

You smiled at him, and you couldn’t be sure, of course, but you felt like he was smiling back at you.

***

You said your goodbyes and readied yourselves for departure. While you hugged the kids and packed your things, you thought about your next move.

A stubborn, cold part of you wanted to tell Mando to drop you off at the closest planet with a major port. You didn’t like that after just a few weeks, you were getting emotionally attached to the pair. It would be easier, safer, less complicated to return to your solitary existence. Plus, your continued presence added to the risk they already faced. That wasn’t fair to either of them.

The quieter, more truthful part of you wanted to stay with him and the child. It was a relief to not be alone all the time, but this was supposed to be a loose, short-lived alliance, not something that made your heart squeeze slightly when you thought about eventually going your separate ways.

You told yourself you’d wait until he brought it up, see what he wanted, and go from there.

You, Mando, and Cara stood at the speeder, ready to leave. Everyone in the village was there to see you off. After a few final goodbyes, Mando and Cara jumped into the speeder. You handed the baby to Mando.

You were about to grab the edge of the speeder to haul yourself up when he reached down to offer you a gloved hand. You accepted. The gesture didn’t surprise you—he was generally polite by nature. What did surprise you was the steadying hand that moved to your waist as you stepped carefully over crates and supplies to find a seat. He squeezed your side gently before letting you go.

***

You had prepared yourself for a conversation that never came.

As you were leaving the atmosphere of Sorgan in the Razor Crest, Mando turned to you to ask, “What are you thinking for our next move?”

He flicked some switches and pressed a few buttons on the console, and a holo-map of the area flickered into view in front of him. A constellation of planets hovered before your eyes.

***

Chapter 5

#Tempered Glass #my writing #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian reader insert #din djarin reader insert

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nalu4emily · 3 years

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The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 18

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised.

Rated mature for a reason. Although this chapter is all fluff.

With one last glance in the mirror, Lucy eyed herself closely in the reflection. Her eyes followed the movement of her manicured hand slowly drifting down the length of the lacy bodice, smoothing over a few creases in the skirt before finally resting under her bump. She studied the silk material carefully, appreciating the way it flowed off of her curvaceous body and delicately trailed along the floor behind.

It was beautiful, unlike the enormous meringue-like frock her friends had so graciously picked out for her. Gone were the days of wearing intricately designed, overly priced, princess dresses that left little room to move, let alone breathe. No, the one she'd picked out was much more flattering, less poofy, and delicately sat in just the right places. It clung to her every curve and emphasised all the parts Lucy liked about her body, whilst also accommodating her growing bump. Her silky blonde hair had been loosely pulled back and curled, decorated with small gem encrusted pins throughout. And her make up had been left minimal, giving her a simple but elegant finish—the look she favoured nowadays.

Her hand began rubbing small circles were it lay, a recent thing she found herself doing, a comfort to her racing heart as it pulsated through her body, echoing the erratic movements of her unborn baby.

She was anxious; who wouldn't be? But she knew that her guild mates would never allow such a day to go badly, they'd all put too much effort into planning it to allow for such folly.

As for Natsu… well, the boy didn't know what'd hit him once the guild found out. He had no idea what getting married really entailed, and figured, like she, it would happen much further into the future than it had. Their friends, however, had given them little choice in the matter, and within a month of the proposal, she was standing in her dream wedding dress about to make that lifelong commitment to the man just as clueless as she was.

In some ways, it all seemed rather convenient. If Lucy didn't know any better, she would've put her fateful coupling down to destiny, but those were the delusions of a small child who'd grown up alone in a big mansion, destined to marry some self important aristocrat and play housewife for his money.

A different life entirely.

Her meeting Natsu had changed all that; he'd opened her eyes to what life could really offer. She'd concluded, after many years as a member of Fairy Tail, that destiny really could be burned to ashes, that fate stood no chance against the likes of her friends, and that she was no different. It had been her choices that'd lead her down this path, and that she had always been in charge of her own future.

So getting married was no longer some massive event that held such great importance in her life, for she had found her true happiness. Married or not, her feelings towards the dragon slayer would never change, her heart belonged solely to him and had done for much longer than she'd ever admit to.

Instead, the wedding would be used a day of celebrating their long lasting friendship, their deep bond and most importantly, the love they'd shared so unconditionally for one another. They'd been through so much together; the pain and heart ache; the cheer and laughter and everything in between; every memory was precious and every moment from now on, even more so.

The longer she thought about it all, the more her eyes began to prickle with unshed tears, threatening to streak down her powdered skin, "Ugh… Stupid feelings..." She whispered, using her finger to wipe up the wetness.

"Aw, Lucy, you don't have to cry! Save it for the actual ceremony, you'll ruin your make up otherwise." Levy was quick to take out a clean tissue, dabbing away at her friends eyes whilst trying not to ruin her masterpiece. "Thank goodness for waterproof mascara, huh?"

"Sorry Levy, I don't know what came over me." She just couldn't understand it; where had all these emotions come from? "It must be my hormones…"

"Nope, I'm pretty sure it's because you're about to get married, Lucy. I imagine lot's of bride's get a little teary on their wedding day." Mira began, offering some words of encouragement. "And besides, Natsu will be just as emotional, I bet."

If memory served correctly, Natsu would be, no doubt, still in his boxers, piling food into his face alongside Happy and Haru, with not a care in the world. It was just a gut feeling, but somehow, Lucy was pretty sure their morning had gone very differently to hers. "Hmm… I don't know. Are we even talking about the same person here? I mean he's probably not even dressed yet."

Mira chuckled lightly, although Lucy saw right through it. She knew that if her words were true, the barmaid wouldn't hesitate to go full Satan-soul on the slayer's ass, ripping him a new one. But the woman said nothing more about it as she reached up to place the veil atop of Lucy's head, before standing back to marvel at the beautiful bride, "There. I have to say, Natsu's one lucky guy! You look good enough to eat, Lucy!"

"Um… thanks, Mira." Blushing, Lucy turned away embarrassed, knowing exactly what the take over mage was inferring, "How much longer until we're ready?"

"Twenty minutes. So we need to pick up the pace or we'll be late." Erza's thunderous tone came sharply from the doorway as she entered the room, her athletic body filling her own, full length dress out in ways Lucy felt slightly envious of. "And the bride shall not be late to her own wedding. We've all waited far too long for it to be ruined now."

Lucy chose to ignore that last bit, never one to dwell on what her guild mates inevitably spoke about behind her and Natsu's back. She quickly put her heeled shoes on and made her way to the door, "Is Anna here yet? She's supposed to be walking me down the aisle."

One of the few decisions Lucy had been allowed to make about her wedding day was who she wanted walking her down the aisle. In replacement of her mother and as someone who meant a lot to both her and Natsu, Anna had been the perfect choice that no one could really argue with.

"I'm here, Lucy!" Anna called, waving her hand as she entered the room, awestruck by how radiant the bride looked in her glistening gown, "Wow! Don't you look stunning! Then again, the Heartfilia gene has yet to fail us." She winked and smiled, "Let's hope this baby follows the same path, hmm?"

Chuckling, Lucy smiled for the first time that morning, feeling a sense of comfort and relief with Anna around. She shared the same kind disposition and caring nature her mother once had; maybe it was a Heartfilia thing? But if Lucy closed her eyes for just a moment, she could almost trick herself into believing Layla was standing right there with her. Maybe, in some weird way, she was, and that's all the young blonde could hope for.

"Time to go!" Erza bellowed, shooing them all out of the door, "We have a wedding to attend!"

On the other side of town, up on the hill where the small cottage stood, a very different story was unfolding, one of complete bedlam, and no one, not even Lucy, should've expected any different.

"Dammit! Why do I have to wear this ridiculous thing anyway?" Natsu grumbled, pulling at the tie around his neck, unhappy that he'd been forced to wear it instead of his beloved scarf. "It's tryin' to choke me, I swear!"

"I don't think it's alive, Natsu…" Happy uttered, having watched his friend battle the urge to destroy the thing for the past ten minutes.

"Yeah, but if it was, I'd totally beat it and burn it to the ground!" Fisting the air in triumph over his imaginary brawl with the inanimate object, the fire breather sniggered.

"You could just burn it now."

The fire mage's smirk turned into an all out evil grin as he went to summon his fire, reaching for the offending material dangling over his shirt.

"Although, I doubt a certain scary lady in armour would be too pleased… Not after everything she went through to get you to wear it in the first place."

And then it all came crashing down again, his need to set fire to it dissipating. He knew better than to go against something Erza had chosen and groaned obnoxiously, throwing his head back onto the pillows in a huff, causing hot smoke to seep from his mouth, "Stupid tie… Stupid Erza…"

Hearing a thump next to him, his eyes rolled to the side, his neck twisting in turn, only to find that Haru had slumped down onto his back as well.

His large blue eyes were fixed on his father's mouth and his lips were pursed slightly as he continued to stare. Then, with a look of determination, he blew with all his might, over and over again in the hopes of forming his own puff of smoke.

Unable to keep his amusement in, Natsu turned over to observe the baby closer, intrigue furrowing his brows and fascination lighting up his face when an untimely idea came to mind.

"Hey Happy, d'ya think Haru might be able to learn magic soon?" He contemplated the thought for a moment as he sat himself up, pulling the little one up with him.

Stopping to think about it, the exceed scrunched his nose up in disbelief, not entirely sure if now was really the time to be having such thoughts, "Really? But he's only just learnt to walk."

"I know, but look at him. He seems to want to." Natsu wasn't sure if he'd even be able to teach him how to breath fire, not without the use of dragon slayer magic and that was off the table. But then again, that wasn't the only thing he could show him. "It'd be kinda cool to see, don't ya think?"

"Uh… I'm not sure now is the time, Natsu… you don't wanna be late." Happy erred on the side of caution, but after one look of his friends scheming face, he was quick to give in, "Then again, it would be pretty cool to see what he does, I guess."

"That's the spirit! We got some time to kill before that Snowflake gets here anyway, so might as well have a little fun." Natsu grinned wickedly, ideas of how to go about it swirling around in his head. "Hey little guy, come 'ere! Daddy's got something to show you!" Igniting his palm, he watched excitedly for Haru's reaction to his magic.

The little boy, although startled at first, stared in wonder at the tiny flame so close to his face, and watched it flicker with the slight movements of his father's hand. It was captivating to be within reach of such burning hot fire, even if he'd seen it so many times before. Although the bright heat was something he so readily associated with Natsu, being this close to it was a first for him, and that made it all the more thrilling.

"Fire!" The child exclaimed, using the springs of the mattress to bob up and down in his excitement.

"Heck yeah, it is! And now that it's just us, we can be awesome fire dragons together, right Haru?" Natsu sniggered like the mischievous imp he was, and brought the kids hand up next to his ignited one.

But after taking one look between his and his father's hands, the little boy pulled away again, a sad expression adorning his sweet face as he stared into his empty palm, "No…" He mumbled, his bottom lip jutting out and his eyes filling with tears, "No!"

"I don't think he understands, Natsu." Happy interjected, not convinced the boy was anywhere near old enough to fully grasp how to handle magic.

"'Course not—not yet anyway. But he will one day, and it's gonna be the best!" The slayer kept his smile as he guided the little boy onto his lap, ruffling his thick hair affectionately to cheer him up again, "Chin up, kiddo! It takes a long time to learn how to wield magic. But with some practice, you'll be the toughest little dragon around, you'll see."

Listening to that calming tone, the child glanced up at his adoring parent, comforted by the big grin that always managed to reach his eyes, a gentle touch that embodied the very bond they shared. The mood was infectious and with a little coaxing, the small boy couldn't keep his lips from curving upwards, brightening the room around them once again.

With newfound courage, he reached his arm back out, placing it near to Natsu and waited expectantly, "Oh, so you do wanna be a dragon, huh? Alright then, but ya gotta give me your best roar first!" Natsu smirked, proud to have taught his son the 'non-magical' version of roaring (aka shouting really loudly) at the very least. And he did just that; at the top of his voice; no encouragement needed, "Whoa! That was super awesome, little guy! Now let's see how you handle this!"

"If you're about to do what I think you're gonna do, then I hope for your sake, Lucy never finds out." Happy warned, not wanting to take any responsibility for what was inevitably about to happen.

"Hey! I'm not stupid enough to burn down my own house. What do you take me for, an idiot?" The answer was yes, but Happy's restraint held strong, knowing he'd be heard even if he'd muttered it under his breath. Natsu, on the other hand, took no heed and brought both hands out this time, taking hold of the chubby little ones waiting for him, "Are ya ready?"

Igniting the flames once more, Haru watched the blazing magic slowly seep onto his fingers, a gentle warmth tingling his flesh, enough to make him flinch as it encased each tiny fist. After a few unsure moments, and the opening and closing of his palms, his blue eyes lit up with a wonderment only children seemed to possess, his very soul shining just as brightly as the flames he'd been gifted.

"Daddy! Daddy, fire!"

Natsu chuckled, as he leant back on the bed, using his now fireless hands to prop himself up, "Haha! I knew you had it in ya! Now you get to be just like a real fire dragon, and as long as you play with it on me, you can't burn anything, either." It was fool proof, he was certain of that. And with the look of sheer astonishment on that cute little face in front of him, Natsu could hardly contain himself.

"Yeah, right! Like you're one to talk…You're the first person to destroy things. It's why we never have any money." It was true and Natsu knew it, but that didn't stop the unimpressed glare he sent Happy's way.

"Why else do you think I put him in my lap?" The slayer tilted his head, his annoyance short lived, "He can't burn me so it's fine, and he's not really wielding fire, it's just pretend." He added, his infamous grin returning, and attention now fully diverted from the child he was supposed to be watching, "They'll go out before long."

"Sure, but, uh… I think Haru may have different ideas…" The exceed said, quietly gesturing to the boy in his lap.

"Huh? How so?" The fire mage asked, but by the time he'd turned around to see, it was already too late, "Haru!"

With one touch from the child's fingers, the fire caught on to the covers they were sitting on and spread like a fuse to a bomb.

"Get out of the way!" It lit up the entire bed in a flash, giving Natsu only seconds to get Haru off of it in time before they both landed in heaps on the floor.

It'd gone up so quickly; such was the destructive nature of those flames, and now his and Lucy's bed, the very bed they slept in every night, was a pile of smoking ash on the floor, the fire extinguished along with it.

Silence. All that could be heard was the silence…

"I… I-I'm dead… I'm so dead…" The dragon slayer's voice was barely a whisper, and his horrified expression said it all. The crushing weight of impending doom loomed over him and no amount of blinking was going to bring back their disintegrated bed, no matter how hard he tried.

What was he going to do? He'd been in control of the situation; he had a plan and it was fool proof. Not a few seconds he'd peeled his sights away from the child—just a few damn seconds and now...

And what about Lucy? She'd be furious, no… outraged by it all! He'd be seeing her in less than thirty minutes from now; how could he look her in the eyes, say their vows, then tell her she'd be sleeping on the couch?! That was a conversation that ended badly no matter what way he looked at it.

"You were saying?" Happy teased, covering his mouth with his paw, the rare look of mortification on his friend's face was priceless.

"Lucy's going to kill me!" His gaping sockets could barely keep his eyeballs from falling out, and his mouth hung low enough he could almost lick the ash off the ground.

"Daddy fire! Daddy fire!" Haru cheered, clapping his hands together while laughing, unaware of the chaos he'd unleashed, seemingly impressed with himself.

"Y-Yeah..." The young man slumped back against the dressing table, the feeling of dread taking over him the more he played out in his mind how he was going to tell his new, and very pregnant wife of the unfortunate news, giving him zero hope for survival, "You're gonna be the end of me, kid!"

"Like father, like son!" It was all too funny for the little exceed, who was attempting, but failing, to stop the flow of cackles escaping his mouth.

"Hey! Stop laughing would ya! It's not funny!" Natsu snapped, the sound of Happy busting his guts slowly grinding away at him.

"But it is! You should've seen your face! Shame Reedus wasn't here to draw the picture!" Happy continued to shriek with laughter, infecting little Haru as well.

"Not you, too!" Natsu complained, but his voice held no real consequence. After all, it was his idea to let the one year old play with fire, and it would be his sorry ass to own up and take responsibility.

"What the hell is going on in here?!" Startled by the unexpected but familiar voice, the trio of boys twisted their heads to see an out of breath Gray standing in the bedroom doorway.

"Oh, it's you… Don't you know how to knock?" Natsu dead-panned, apparently more annoyed by Gray's intrusion than the burnt bed.

"Never mind about that, I ran all the way here 'cause your house is smoking! What did you do this time, fire breath?" Glad to see everyone was fine, the ice mage sighed in relief that it appeared to be nothing serious.

"Hey! Why do people always assume it's me? Maybe it was Happy?"

"But it was you, Natsu."

"Shh! I'm trying to make a point here!"

"It was obviously you, idiot! You're the only pyro here!" Gray shook his head, hardly believing that this was the guy about to get married. "Anyway, we need to get going, or Erza will have our heads."

"But… but what about the bed?" Natsu whimpered like a child, pointing to where it once stood.

"Wait… You burnt down your own bed?! What is wrong with you, Dragneel?! Of all the days to be a bigger idiot than normal, you pick today?" Gray smacked his palm over his face exasperatedly. He hadn't even noticed that it was the bed that'd been burnt, but now it was clear to see where all the smoke was coming from.

"Come on, numbskull! We don't have time for this!" Grabbing hold of the still-in-shock Natsu by the collar, he used his ice magic to freeze all of the ash lain bare on the floor, effectively halting the smoke and yanked his rival out of the house, determined to get to the cathedral on time, "We'll deal with your stupidity later, but right now, you gotta get married and I'm prepared to drag you all the way there if I have to."

Lucy could feel the blood pulsing in her ears, her hand clutched at her belly as the sickness she'd been suppressing all morning finally reared its ugly head. She felt sticky and clammy from the extra adrenaline coursing its way through her body—and was now an appropriate time to say she needed to pee… again!?

"Take a deep breath and try to relax yourself." She heard Anna whisper into her ear as they both stared at the large cathedral doors. "When you walk down that aisle, remember its only you and Natsu that matters, no one else, okay?"

Giving a shy nod, she inhaled deeply, as if that was going to be her last breath and tried to calm herself down.

"Are you ready?"

Bowing her head once more, Lucy could hear the guests grow silent behind the large doors, the loud creaking signifying they were opening. Planting one heeled foot over the threshold, the blonde looked up to everyone that was waiting for her entrance, and it was in that moment time seemed to stand still.

Among the gasps and gleaming faces; the decorated pews and hard stone floor; hazy, chocolate eyes scoured the ancient hall. There they all were; her friends; her family; every single person that held such importance in her heart. It made her happy, ecstatic even, that this joyous day could be celebrated with the people closest to her, the people that'd accepted her for who she was and nurtured her into the person she was today.

She hadn't even realised she'd stopped breathing until her lungs began to ache, forcing her to inhale a large breath of air as her legs began to slowly, and shakily, walk forwards.

Her dress glimmered in the dim light of the medieval building, capturing the eyes of the crowd, lighting up the very aisle as the long train behind her rippled with each step she took towards the altar.

But nobody, not even the keenest of dragon senses could see the pure beauty the way he did. With heat pooling in his belly, he watched the girl he loved make her way towards him, dazzling as brightly as the stars she wielded. His mouth ran dry, and his heart skipped many beats, making him question whether it was just his imagination. She appeared before him within a blink of an eye, and it was all to easy to just wash the others away.

"She's all yours, Natsu." Anna said, releasing her arm from Lucy's firm hold and winked at them both, gladly stepping back to let them take centre stage.

But neither mage heard her as their eyes connected for the first time, too enraptured by what stood before them, too absorbed in their own little world, and nothing could penetrate it.

"You… You look beautiful, Lucy." Natsu wasn't easy to fluster, but the pink tinge on his cheeks told her she'd succeeded. "Really… really beautiful…"

Her own bashfulness became evident too, her eyes soaking in his glorious form as if she'd been starved of him, "You're looking pretty good yourself, Natsu." She studied him up and down, her gaze becoming hungry for more. It wasn't very often she got to see his exceptionally toned body in something so formal, and she was totally going to make the most of it.

"T-Thanks..."

The playful wink and cute chuckle only served to make the pink on his cheeks grow darker, as if this was the first time she'd ever paid him a compliment.

‘Wasn't Lucy the one that usually reacted like this?’ He wondered, unsure why his face was suddenly feeling so hot.

“Although, I have to say, it’s still a little strange seeing you without your scarf on.” She admitted, unable to take her eyes away from his slender neck. Usually it didn’t come off until he was ready for bed… or other, less innocent things.

"You can thank Erza for that! She stole it from me and made me wear a damn tie instead." His petulant tone had the blonde sniggering into her hand, his instant annoyance enough to quash any tension left between them, "She even made Haru wear one."

Lucy glanced over to where Haru was sat in the crowd, who, although dressed in something entirely impractical for a toddler, was happily waving to his mother with the biggest grin on his face, "Poor guy…" She said, waving back, "He does look super cute in it though."

A loud cough from the front halted them in their tracks, finally breaking them out of their little bubble, "When you're quite finished." A loud voice echoed through the cathedral walls, making both mages stand to attention and face the front like naughty school children.

An older gentleman with a bald head and long beard stood before them, his bushy brows making it hard to see where his wrinkles stopped and his eyes began glared impatiently at the pair, tapping his fingers on the book he held in his hands, "Now, let's begin."

With an exaggerated sigh, his voice traipsed along the pages of his book, an aged tone that said he'd spoken these words all too many times before, had read those same lines, and joined countless lovers together in matrimony over the years. He was practised and poised, an elegant and poetic speaker, able to captivate his audience…

Unless they were Fairy Tail, of course, and more specifically a pink haired, impulsive dragon slayer, who's attention span rivalled that of a five year old. He'd zoned out the moment the old guy had started rambling, too interested in getting to the good bit—eating food and kissing Lucy, obviously.

It all sounded like drivel, mindless, unnecessary drivel, that seemed never ending, and the hall was so deafeningly quiet, which, was unnerving to say the least when trying to distract oneself.

Well, except for one faint noise, that was.

Thanks to his excellent hearing, he could hear little Haru babbling from the pews. He was being ever so quiet about it considering his lack of awareness for what was going on, and the sudden urge to turn around and take a peek at what he was doing seemed almost too much for the fire mage.

With the slightest quirk of his head, he glanced back to see the small boy playing with Happy's tail, minding his own business, perfectly content without him or Lucy there.

Satisfied to see the infant playing so calmly, Natsu went to turn back around again when a loud 'Daddy!' stopped him in his tracks. The small boy, who'd not been aware of his father's peeping only a moment ago, was now trying to scramble over the blue exceed to get to him.

"No Haru, you gotta stay there. Stay with Happy!" The desperate fire mage whispered, pointing to the cat as a sheepish grin took over at the chaos he'd caused. "Daddy will be over in a minute, kay?"

"You're making it worse, Natsu, turn around!" Lucy whispered rather loudly, never looking away from the old man still talking as she leaned in.

"Sorry Luce, but I could hear Haru talking to himself. I just wanted to see what he was doing." Natsu explained, rubbing the back of his head in habit, "Not my fault he caught me looking."

"You looked at him first, of course he was going to notice you." She said a little louder, enough that the people sat closest to them could hear.

And that was all he needed for the small smirk to creep its way onto his lips, "Oh, so you were watching, too?"

"N-No…" She stuttered, giving herself away, "I wasn't…"

"Liar."

"Okay, fine. But why do I have to listen to this and you don't? I'm just as bored as you are." She admitted, her whispers getting louder the more irate she became, "Do you know how many times I've had to keep myself from yawning? And I really need to pee, too!"

As important as she knew this part of the ceremony was, it didn't half drag. Couldn't they just say 'I do' and be done with it already? Who cared about some God when her feet were starting to hurt!?

"Well, aren't you full of surprises… Maybe you should've gone before." He sniggered, knowing exactly how to push her buttons, relishing in the glare that had imminent death written all over it.

“It’s not like I’m carrying your baby or anything…” She huffed, crossing her arms.

"Alright, if your that desperate, I could always make him go faster." His face lit up with the most mischievous grin, igniting a small flame on his pointer finger.

"Natsu! You can’t do that! You’ll get us kicked out!” She rolled her eyes, though she appreciated the sentiment.

"Aw, come on! Not even a little singe?" He pointed his fiery finger towards the man in front of them, edging it slowly closer on purpose, "His brows need taking back a bit, don't you think?"

Lucy chortled at the thought, highly amused by the man's enormous brows being set on fire and couldn't stop the giggles that followed, her restraint finally caving, "Maybe just a little bit!"

"Will you two pay attention and turn to face each other." The old man grumbled, none the wiser to their little inside jokes. "Present the rings."

The blonde continued to chuckle as she turned to face her partner in crime, her steady heart picking up pace a little now that they were staring right at each other.

His unwavering smile and silly behaviour was something she had always admired. His ability to lighten any situation, regardless of how grim it may seem, instantly had her smiling along, too.

"Now, Natsu, please say your vows."

Inhaling a deep breath, the young mage knew he'd never been good with words. Lucy had always been the speaker, the writer, the one able to talk her way out of most situations, and although the vows he'd prepared were not long like sappy love letters or poetic or book worthy, they came from the heart and that's all he could offer her.

"Luce… I gotta admit, I never saw this coming." He chuckled, his hand tangled into the hair at the back of his head, "And I know for sure you didn't either, but that's okay because no matter what happens, we'll always be Natsu and Lucy, and we'll always be partners."

Without looking away, he held her shaky hand and slipped the precious ring onto her finger with ease, her delicate skin soft against his loving warmth.

"I've always known you were special to me, it just took a while to realise how much, I guess… And apparently adopting a kid with your best friend isn't normal, so…" He shrugged nonchalantly, never giving it much thought, but earned a giggle from Lucy in return. "But I knew you'd put your all into being the best Mom you could, just like in everything you do. You're a super kind person with so much love to give, it's why you're so precious to me, and I wanna protect that with everything I've got. So, that's my promise to you, Lucy, I will protect your heart, so long as it continues to beat."

She gasped, feeling the air leave her lungs as if she'd been winded. It was short and to the point but those sweet sounding words of his, the very meaning behind them were enough to make her knees tremble. She stared, mouth agape at the man that stood before her, blown away by his promise, astounded that he'd once again found the perfect things to say.

A few unplanned tears escaped as she looked over to the little boy in the pews, then peered down to her rounded tummy, feeling the butterflies and the baby's movements fluttering around inside. So much had changed, and this would be a whole new chapter to add to their never ending adventure, an overwhelming thought that seemed all too much for her to get to grips with.

Feeling a warm hand cup her cheek she looked up to the sweet smile of her lover, the person that meant everything to her, and felt this fingers wipe away her tears. He always had a way of filling her with encouragement, even, it seemed, with just a single gesture.

"Thank you, Natsu. Now Lucy, you may begin." The old guy uttered, his gruff voice quieter than before.

Placing her free hand over the top of his, she brought them both to rest on her belly, her smile reaching her eyes as the small kicks poked at their skin, making them both chuckle.

"Natsu, there are so many things I could say that I admire about you; I could also find an equal amount of things that annoy me, too." His sudden pout made her giggle once again, along with the rest of the guild members, "But that doesn't matter, because that's the person I fell in love with. You're loyal, brave and strong; your silly, impulsive and like to fool about, but you also bring smiles to everyone around you, an ability that only you seem to possess.

I can't remember how many times you've shown me the light, lifted me up in my time of need and carried me until I could stand on my own two feet. Your presence and comfort has always been my safe place, somewhere I can call home. You're such a beautiful person, and I'm so lucky to be able to call you mine."

Tears began to fill her eyes again, and she was sure his had become a little watery too.

"So, in return for all that you do for me, and us as a family, I promise to play with your hair when your motion sick and rub your back when you eat too much." Natsu's cheeks lifted up to his eyes, scrunching them closed in amusement as she, too, grinned back at him.

"I promise to love you with all of my heart, to lift you up in your time of need and put a smile on your face when your feeling down. I promise to be loyal, brave, and strong for you, too; to fool about and make you laugh, and to always be there to stop you from going overboard.

I'll forever stand proudly at your side, and hold your hand through whatever life throws at us. You've shaped me into the person I am today, and if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have this wonderful life, such amazing friends, or a family to call my own." The tears that welled began to spill down her pink stained cheeks, but the smile that had been there all along never wavered from her lips, "You're my everything, Natsu, and you will be until the day I die."

A single tear drop slowly trickled down and dripped off of his chin as his breath hitched in his throat. As time once again stood still, it felt like he and Lucy were the only ones present; no longer able to see the guild watching their every move, or hear the grumpy old man scold them for not paying attention. Lucy was his sole focus and without waiting for the final lines to be read, the young groom impatiently pulled her in, and welded their lips together in a display of affection that had the crowd wooing and whistling for them in celebration.

"Congratulations to the happy couple!" Mira mewled, throwing confetti and flower petals over the two still very much consumed by one another.

"Can you believe it? After all these years, they're finally married!" Levy squealed in her excitement, deafening poor Gajeel in the process.

"Who'd have thought our boy, Natsu, would've ever settled down?" Wakaba stood from his seat, cigarette at the ready.

"Yep! It seems like only yesterday he was pulling pranks and starting fights with the other youngsters." Macao smirked, his arms crossed cockily over his chest.

"That's because it was yesterday, Dad! Natsu hasn't changed that much…" Romeo shook his head at the two old farts, but smiled when he looked back to his idol, "Then again, he does have a family now. I guess getting married just kinda made sense."

"Nothing they do makes sense, kid. You only have to look at 'em to see that." Laxus spoke from the pew behind, his thunder legion companions sat right along with him.

"Yes, but they have made their pairing work. As a team, they're like clockwork and as a couple, they're impenetrable." Erza's smile brightened her face as she glanced on at the two newly weds, proud of her friends and of how far they'd come.

"Alright guys, let's move this to the guild! I wanna get my booze on and the bar is waiting!" Cana yelled, drink bottle already in hand as she, along with most of the others filtered out of the cathedral, not wanting to spoil the couples moment.

Natsu and Lucy, however, were in a bubble all of their own; where soft, tinted lips met hot, firm ones in a passionate battle that neither wanted to lose. But the need for air was far stronger, forcing them to separate and stare into each others eyes as they caught their breaths.

"You know, you're supposed to wait for me to pronounce you husband and wife before embracing like that." The bushy browed man said from behind the altar, glowering at the couple he had no hope of controlling.

"Oh… uh, sorry about that… Kinda got swept up in the moment." Natsu grinned sheepishly, chuckling to ease the tension, while Lucy just hid herself behind him.

"Hmm… Well it doesn't matter now. What does is that you are legally bound. Good luck to you both."

"Thanks!"

They watched the man take his leave, only then noticing that the hall was empty, "Huh… Where'd everybody go?" The fire mage was sure the hall had been filled just a moment ago.

"So you guys finally came up for air, huh?" Gray walked over, he and Juvia, along with Happy and Haru the only ones left. "Everyone's gone back to the guild to wait instead of watch you both suck face. Seriously, how long can you hold your breath for?"

An oblivious Natsu only shrugged, but a blushing Lucy was quick to hide her face from Gray's knowing smirk, turning the opposite way to where Juvia was standing with the little baby in her arms, and the blonde's face lit up instantly, "Oh, look at him! Isn't he just the sweetest? And he didn't cry once throughout the whole thing! What a little sweetheart!"

"Yes, Juvia is quite surprised herself that he stayed quiet. Juvia can't say he does the same at night though." The water mage chuckled through her tiredness, a look Lucy was all too familiar with, "But Juvia doesn't mind, not when Gray is so willing to get up with him."

"Aww, Daddy Gray to the rescue, huh? And here I thought you were worried about the whole thing. Looks like you're doing just fine to me!" Lucy said, turning her attention to the ice mage standing there.

"Worried? Who said I was-?" And then it clicked, "Natsu! You told Lucy what I said? That was just between us!" Gray turned to the fire mage, who, had since recovered his own son from the pews, walking him back to where they were all standing.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I only told Lucy, duh!"

"Don't 'duh' me, you weren't supposed to tell anybody, and that includes Lucy!" If he could've smacked his head on a wall, he would've… Or better yet, smack Natsu's!

"But I tell Lucy everything…"

"Oh, you do, do you? That's funny, because I'm certain there's something you haven't told her yet, right?" The look of fear that flashed across Natsu's face was enough to make the ice mage drop his annoyance in favour of revenge.

"Not told me what? Did something happen?" Lucy cocked her head as she looked up from the cooing baby, her sights flickering between the squabbling duo scowling at each other.

"Should I tell her, Natsu?" Gray's smirk was almost sickening, his own pleasure outweighing the consequences.

"Don't you dare, Popsicle!" The fire mage bit out through gritted teeth, "Or I'll rearrange your face with my fist!" If looks could kill…

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" The curious look on Lucy's face quickly turned to frustration the longer she was kept waiting, "Natsu?" Slowly she traipsed her way over, backing him against the rows of benches.

"Uh oh! Looks like hell is about to break loose..." Happy sniggered from his perch on the altar, high fiving Haru as he began to giggle, too.

"Oh dear… You may have started something there, Gray dear." Juvia said, passing the sleepy newborn over to his father.

"Nah! Natsu had this one coming." He sniggered, shushing the baby back to sleep.

A vein popping on her forehead, Lucy's irritation had just about reached breaking point, "Speak!"

Swallowing thickly, the young man looked up to his very new, very pregnant wife, just like he knew he'd have to and wished momentarily that the ground would swallow him whole, "Well… Uh… I-It's kind of… Um…" What was he supposed to say? "I-I was playing with Haru this morning and, u-uh, stuff happened and our bed is now… gone."

Raising a brow, the girl looked even more confused, "Gone? What do you mean, it's gone?"

"Gone… As in it was there… and now its not." He really wasn't doing himself any favours.

"Natsu..."

"Happy did it!" He panicked.

"Hey! No I didn't, you burnt it! You let Haru play with your fire, not me! I warned you it would end badly, but you wouldn't listen and now-"

"You did what?!" Her eyes were blood red as she glared at the suspecting dragon slayer, her hair reminiscent of a certain Satan soul mage. “You burnt down our bed?!”

It was in times like this he was glad that she couldn't out run him, especially not at the moment, as he pegged it for the exit.

"Natsu Dragneel! Just you wait 'til I get my hands on you!"

Her yelling from behind reminded him of all the times he'd found himself in this exact predicament, whether it be from destroying a building or their bed, it brought a smile to his lips at just how familiar it all felt. It seemed as their evolving relationship and family changed and grew, his vows rang true, they would always be Natsu and Lucy, and that would forever be the same.

With one solid push of the large cathedral doors, he opened them wide, allowing the natural afternoon light seep into the old walls. Readjusting the boy in his arms, and with Happy flying over head, he chanced a small glance back at his livid wife stalking her way over to him, and grinned mischievously, sealing his already doomed fate with his final words, "Come on then, Luce! But you'll have to catch me first!"

Thanks for reading!

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

Text

Get Me to the Church On Time

Enzo St. John x Mikaelson! Reader

Words: 3037

Part 3 of 4 (Part One, Part Two)

Summary: Preparations for the wedding are in full swing and it’s time to go dress shopping. With you out with the girls, Enzo is left to find the perfect suit with none other than your protective older brothers. Needless to say, tensions are high.

Note: Part Three!!! And I’m bringing in the Vampire Diaries crew for the wedding. More Damon/Enzo bromance on the way, along with some girl fun with Caroline and Bonnie. Like the others, this one jumps around a bit some more, but I hope it isn’t too confusing. I’m just bad at writing transitions. (Repost Notes: Ugh, going through these makes me so happy, you guys!

The sound of suitcases rolling on the sidewalk made your heart leap. You sat up from your spot on the couch, Enzo stirring slightly next to you. He made a sound of confusion as you smacked his arm.

“They’re here!” You exclaimed, sprinting outside. The blonde and the brunette were arguing over something but immediately stopped when they saw you.

“I told you this was the right place!” Caroline squealed, rushing towards you for a hug. Bonnie set her bag down and joined the group hug.

“I can’t believe this is all happening.” You sighed as the three of you pulled apart. “There’s not even a week left until the wedding and I haven’t even found the dress yet.” Caroline laced her arm through yours and Bonnie’s.

“Why do you think we’re here?” She beamed. They grabbed their bags and you led them into the compound where Freya invited Caroline in and Enzo stiffened uncomfortably.

“Bonnie… Caroline. How nice to see you.” He put on a tight smile and Bonnie rolled her eyes. He rubbed his hands together, signaling his discomfort. He didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye with your best friends. “Well, I’m sure Y/N can show you to your rooms.” He cast you a pleading look and you smirked.

“Right this way ladies.” You led them away, the two of them turning back at Enzo and giggling. You couldn’t help but laugh along. “You guys really hate him, don’t you?” You said as soon as the door to their room was closed.

“We don’t… hate him.” Bonnie clarified. “We just-hmm.” She tried to think of the right word. Caroline kicked her shin. “Ow! What was that for?”

“If you like Enzo, we like Enzo.” Caroline promised. Bonnie nodded in skeptical agreement. “Besides, he’s the reason we get to go dress shopping, on an unlimited budget, in New Orleans.” She took your face in her hands. “You are not allowed to worry about anything. We are here now and we shall tend to everything. Right Bonnie?”

“What are bridesmaids for?” She smiled, her skepticism breaking away.

“I completely agree.” Rebekah said from the doorway. Her arms were crossed and her face held a dangerously smug look. As the maid of honor she was going to have to interact with the other bridesmaids at some point. With a quick begging glance from you, her smug look spread into a sincere smile. “And in order to do that, I suggest that we set aside our differences for the coming days. From now until the reception ends, we are nothing more than the friends and family to my dear sister Y/N.” The two girls considered this and shrugged.

“I don’t see why not.” Caroline finally said and motioned for Rebekah to come further into the room, pulling a small planner out of her suitcase. “Today is dress shopping day. While we will be at the boutique at 2:00, the boys will be taking Enzo to get his suit. After that is all taken care of, Enzo and Y/N will get to have one final date night to themselves before becoming a married couple.” You looked down at your watch.

“Well it’s only noon, so we’ll just have to find something to keep us busy until the appointment.” You suggested showing the girls around town, but you could tell Bonnie was tired from the long trip here. “Perhaps Rebekah can catch me up on everything I’ve missed down here in the quarter.”

“How about I treat us all to lunch?” Rebekah offered. “Just us girls, of course.” She winked at your two best friends, who still seemed slightly uneased by her presence. You clasped your hands together mouthing the word “Please” over and over again. Bonnie grinned, only mildly reluctant.

“So long as you’re paying.”

The four of you headed down the stairs to find Enzo surrounded by your three brothers, all looking as intimidating and menacing as ever. When he saw you, Enzo smiled nervously.

“There’s my lovely fiancé!” He exclaimed, wrapping his arm around you and looking back at your brothers with a gaze that said ‘See, I’m safe now!’. “Klaus and I were just talking about you.”

“Oh really?” You inquired, shooting Nik and deadly glare. “I would love to stay and chat, but we’ve decided to go out to lunch before we head to the Bridal Boutique this afternoon.” Enzo went pale.

“Just the four of you?” He squeaked and Kol snickered.

“Well it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride’s dress before the wedding.” You shrugged. “Besides, you have to go look at suits with my brothers.” His eyes were filled with a comical amount of fear. “Also…” You pulled him aside, though you knew everyone would be listening in. It was hard to have a private conversation in a room full of people with supernatural hearing. “Don’t you need to make a phone call?”

“I was… planning on it.” He nodded and you smacked the back of his head. “Ow! What in bloody hell was that for?”

“Call. Him.” You growled and he slumped his shoulders, groaning.

“Okay fine.” You started to walk away, but he kept his hand on your elbow. “And do you think it’s a good idea to leave me with them?” You turned to your brothers.

“Klaus will be on his best behavior, won’t you Nik.” You said, the threat of ripping him limb from limb should anything happen to Enzo in your voice. “Besides, Elijah will be there and he will keep the others in line.”

“I shall do my best.” Elijah chuckled, putting a hand on Enzo’s shoulder. He tried not to flinch.

“Great! Well we will be heading out then. I’ll see you later tonight.” You place a quick kiss on Enzo’s cheek before rushing off the girls.

The impending doom looming over him intensified as Klaus stepped forward.

“Well if they’re going out, I don’t see why we can’t get a bite to eat.” He stared menacingly at Enzo, who gulped. “Who’s hungry?”

You stood in front of the mirror, running your hands down the tulle skirt. It was a gorgeous dress, but it just wasn’t the dress. Luckily, when you came out of the dressing room, your entourage agreed with your doubts in a very vocal manner.

“No.” Rebekah shook her head, her eyes traveling up and down the length of fabric. “You look like a glorified Barbie.”

“Actually, I agree. Way too much sparkle.” Caroline quipped. Bonnie nodded. The attendant came in asking what everyone thought.

“My sister shall look nothing less than royalty.” Rebekah commanded. She pulled the woman towards her. “Find her the most elegant dress in the store, then come back and ask me.” She compelled and the woman sashayed off.

“And make sure it’s sexy!” Caroline called after her. The four of you giggled.

It was almost perfect, but a part of your heart was still aching. You knew exactly what was missing. You felt your shoulders fall and looking around, your eyes filled with tears. Caroline immediately noticed and jumped off of the couch.

“You can’t cry yet! You haven’t even picked a dress!” She whined, putting her hands on your shoulders, trying to read what was wrong. You laughed and wiped the moisture from your cheeks.

“I just wish Elena could be here. With all of us.” You had always imagined all of your friends being there if you ever got married and now… it just seemed incomplete. Bonnie nodded in agreement and held up her glass of champagne.

“To Elena.” She toasted. “I’m sure she’s watching over this from whatever weird, supernatural coma world she’s in.” The rest of you held up your glasses with small, sad smiles and echoed.

“To Elena.”

Enzo stood uncomfortably as the tailor fitted the suit onto him. The rest of the room was completely silent, with the occasional question from the tailor that Enzo would answer quickly and quietly. Klaus sat, sharpening the leg of the wooden table next to him. Elijah was flipping through the newspaper and Kol just looked bored.

“Do stop that Niklaus,” Elijah sighed. “You’re being childish.”

“Someone has to be prepared for when this all blows over.” Klaus shrugged. Enzo clenched his fists but remained silent. “Now as to how I’ll kill him, I haven’t entirely decided.”

“I think you two should be a little more excited.” Kol stood up, circling around Enzo and pointing something out to the tailor. “We are to have a new brother! Someone else to add to the family drama. To torment for the rest of our never ending lives.” He grinned. Enzo couldn’t tell if Kol was mocking him, or attempting to be sincere. From what Y/N had told him about her twin, he figured it was a bit of both and the best he was going to get.

“I’m just taking the necessary precaution for when this riff raff breaks our sister’s heart.” He threw the stake at Enzo, who barely ducked in time.

“That is it!” Enzo shouted, his temper finally getting the better of him. “I have done nothing but love Y/N for as long as I have had the pleasure of knowing her. How dare you accuse me of not meeting your standards- which, by the way, are designed for every man who comes into your sister's lives to fail. Y/N loves me and I love her and I will not stand for anyone who suggests otherwise.” The sudden outburst made all three brothers stare at Enzo in surprise. Elijah put down his paper, seeing his younger brother draw closer to the young vampire.

Enzo’s eyes widened with fear as Klaus came towards him. This was it. This was the end. And he didn’t even get to finish the suit. The hybrid leaned in close, his voice deep and mischievous.

“Now there’s the spirit I’ve heard so much about.” Klaus smirked. Enzo lowered his brows in confusion. “No need to fuss, I’m still planning your gruesome death, but for now…” He clapped his hands together. “We have a wedding to prepare for.” He tossed Enzo’s cell phone to him. “And if I remember correctly you have a phone call to make. Tell Damon I said hello.” Klaus compelled the tailor to take a break and the three Mikaelsons left the room.

Enzo sighed and dialed the number.

“What now?” Damon answered.

“I have to ask you something…” Enzo ran his fingers through his hair. Why was this so hard? Damon was probably his only friend in the living world, so he didn’t really have any other options. “You see, Y/N and I are getting married-”

“Yeah, Caroline told me.” Damon interrupted. “Congrats on becoming part of the psycho original family.”

“Damon,” Enzo snapped, growing impatient. “I’m trying to ask you to be my best man.” The other line went silent.

“Wow…” Damon blew out a breath. “I mean… yeah. Sure. Why not? I love weddings.” Changing his tone, he poured himself a drink as usual and made a mental note to get a tux. “Where are you getting married again? Is it a destination wedding, because I would love to go to Hawaii-”

“It’s in New Orleans.” Enzo said and he could hear Damon nearly choke on his drink.

“No. No way. You’re on your own.” As he went to hang up, Enzo started to beg.

“Please Damon. I know that you don’t have a great reputation with Y/N’s family, but this is really important for me.” He pleaded. With still no answer, he let out a desperate sigh. “You’re the only friend I’ve got.” Damon was quiet for a long time, having an angry debate with himself before finally answering.

“I’ll be there.”

The night was glistening with stars, along with the multitude of candles Caroline had strung about the courtyard. She had transformed the space into the perfect place for one final romantic dinner before Enzo and you tied the knot. Bonnie, Rebekah, and Freya had spent the past two hours helping you get ready. Caroline had insisted on formal- and on picking out the dress. As much as you hated to admit, your friend had impeccable taste. The dress was the perfect mix of sexy and elegant, much like the dress you had chosen earlier that day.

Enzo stood patiently outside your door, offering his arm as you finally emerged. He tried to keep his jaw from dropping.

“You look stunning.” He smiled and suddenly all of the feelings you had first felt when the two of you started dating came rushing back. All of the nerves mixed with excitement. All of the short electric bursts shooting through your skin. Everything burned brighter and lit up your face in a way that made you glow. As he led you down the stairs, your eyes glittered in the lights. Enzo couldn’t imagine you looking more beautiful than you did in that moment.

He pulled out your chair for you before taking his seat across the table. A bottle of wine waited beside a basket of fresh bread from a nearby bakery.

At first you couldn’t think of anything to say. You just twisted your pasta around and around on your fork as Enzo poured the wine. He, too, seemed to feel the awkwardness between you and he chuckled softly to himself.

“Why does it suddenly feel so much harder to talk?” He asked in a tone of amused frustration. You laughed, letting your shoulders relax as you took a sip of wine.

“I was thinking exactly the same thing.” You sighed, letting a genuine smile spread across your face. “It’s probably just the nerves for the wedding, but I can hardly breathe half the time, let alone hold a conversation.”

“It is daunting, isn’t it?” He mused, placing a hand on top of yours. “An eternity with me?”

“Frankly, I can’t think of anything better.” You smiled and raised your glass for your second toast that day. “Here’s to the next five days before the rest of our eternity.” He clinked his glass gently against yours, admiring the view before him. The candle light made a halo around your head and the flowers that Caroline had picked brought out the color of your eyes.

“You have truly outdone yourself.” Klaus told Caroline, who was standing next to him on the balcony above the couple.

“It’s their last dinner as a non-married couple.” She shrugged. “I figured a little romance was necessary.” She eyed him suspiciously. “So you’re really okay with this?”

“Okay with what?” He asked innocently, though he knew exactly what she meant. She cocked an eyebrow.

“With your sister getting married.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I mean, every time Rebekah has found a lover, he is either brutally murdered or he mysteriously vanishes.”

“I haven’t decided what I shall do with Lorenzo yet.” Klaus gave her a mischievous look and she rolled her eyes.

“He might be a handful, but Enzo is a pretty good guy. Especially when he’s with Y/N.” She thought for a second before adding. “He kind of reminds me of you.”

“Surely he doesn’t meet my grand stature.” Klaus brought her hand up to his lips. “If you would excuse me, dear Caroline, I believe I shall turn in for the night.” He saw the blush rush to her cheeks and smirked before walking away with a slight skip in his step.

As you watched your brother make his way to his room, you stood from the table and excused yourself for a moment, cutting Klaus off before he reached the door.

“Can I talk to you, Nik?” You asked and he tilted his head to the side with curiosity. You both went into the study, shutting the door behind you. Elijah had been relaxing in his favorite chair after his own romantic dinner with Hayley. He put down his book and looked at you in anticipation.

“Is something wrong?” He wondered and you shook your head.

“I have something I have been meaning to ask the two of you…” You paused, trying to think of how to phrase what you were about to say. It was one of the most important questions besides your proposal to Enzo itself. “You see… I would very much like it if- well you know Kol isn’t all that sentimental, and you both mean so much to me. You’re my brothers, for heaven’s sake! You have always been there for me no matter what trouble I found myself in.” You knew you were ranting again and took a deep breath, trying to get to the point. “I love you both so dearly and I was hoping that you would both give me away.”

At first neither brother said anything. They just stared at you as emotion filled their eyes and loving smiles appeared on their faces.

“It would be an honor.” Elijah beamed. Klaus shrugged.

“Well I suppose I have nothing else going on.” He teased. You pulled both of them into a hug, tears of joy filling your eyes. Elijah had always been there for you, but it was Klaus that you were so ecstatic about agreeing. It meant that- in his own, strange way- that he approved of you being married to Enzo. And that meant the world to you.

Elijah placed a light kiss on your forehead, Klaus doing the same, and the two pulled away.

“Now, I believe that you have a romantic dinner to get back to.” Elijah pointed out. “And we mustn't keep Lorenzo waiting.”

“Let him wait!” Klaus said draping his arm over your shoulder. “We take priority in this household.” Both you and Elijah chuckled and you kissed Klaus’ cheek.

“Elijah’s right, Nik. I should get back. Before he runs off with some trollop off the street.” You gave him a wink. Kol had told you about the suit fitting and you couldn’t help but tease Nik about it. You knew he was just being his usual over-protective self, but your fiancé had stood up to him. It made you love Enzo even more- something you didn’t even think was possible.

Keep Reading to: A Bourbon Street Wedding

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

#lorenzo st john #enzo st john x reader #mikaelson reader #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #damon salvatore #caroline forbes #klaroline #new orleans #the originals imagines #the vampire diaries imagines

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shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

Text

Enchanted

finally finished this!!! im so happy with it, and will be writing it in thomas’s pov as soon as possible and perhaps part 2?

Sleep evades me. My mind keeps returning to last night, specifically to a certain person I had met last night. I pull the covers higher, burying my head as I finally gave into my wandering mind.

I stand alone, needing a break from my aunt Amelia. The music was beautiful, a soft sound that filled the entire room. The party itself was decorated in a magical way, the columns in the building encompassed in vines, the tables with floral centrepieces. It was a mixture of whimsy and magic, yet no one seemed happy to be here. Everyone I spoke to was forcing smiles, men faked laughter as they believed this was not a party but a way to make business deals and enforce their own reputation. It was absurd how no one was just admiring the effort people put into making this perfect. It was the same every month, I'd walk to the edge of the room and watch. To calm my nerves, to explore the different flower pieces, the musicians and the flickering candles from the chandelier. The gowns women wore only once to try and show their wealth, whilst I tended to wear the same, as it fit the magical atmosphere this room desperately tried to make people see, yet they were too blind by their greed, the need to prove themselves to everyone to just simply stand back and enjoy themselves.

My cousin Liza seemed to be in conversation with Dacina, the host of the party, someone I had spoken to a few times, each being more enjoyable. Her calming demeanour and charm always lifted my spirits. Her family organizes this ball once a month, her father hates it but makes a lot of business so it is always left to her to plan and design it. With the help of Illeana and lots of their servants they always make this place ethereal. Her brother, Thomas Cresswell, only ever shows up for a few hours then leaves, only being able to handle the faking niceties for so long. Dacina told me of his tolerance, or lack thereof, to society. She speaks highly of her brother, as I once did, yet I have never met Mr.Cresswell.

The varnished wooden floor slowly gathers marks as couples danced. How I longed to be one of those dancers, being swivelled by someone I loved. They would look at me as if I was the most magical thing in the room, with a soft smile and adoration in every word he whispers to me. I would be his equal as we spun around, the world fading into nothing as we held each other. Alas, those dreams are not likely for someone cruel enough to carve the dead.

I snap out of my fantasy as a group of older men walk towards the buffet near me. They talk loud enough so everyone can hear, shockingly talking about work. I roll my eyes at them and look away back to the dance floor. The lights above cast shadows, making the scene feel like my imagination as I sit by a fireplace to read a romance novel. If this was a novel, there would be my love interest here, watching and finding the courage to say something. There are families at the table, children clinging to mothers as the men sit and discuss whatever. My father, uncle and aunt sit together in a seemingly civil conversation. I look for Liza again, deciding I should probably stop brooding in the corner but as I look for her my attention keeps going back to the men at the buffet. Not by choice, but by their obnoxious decision to shout their conversation.

“A woman led the strike, ridiculous, she had to go,” I heard an oldish man say, followed by murmurs of agreement, “these strikes are out of hand, demanding we pay more, absurd notions.” The man is none other than Mr. Birling, a notoriously cold hearted man, much like dacianas father apparently, both of whom value money rather than people. Even their own families. The group of men who looked the same as him, slightly wrinkled face, greyish hair, miserable faces with hints of conniving schemes being plotted against each other. Friends until one of them was earning more money and was more successful, then they were enemies again.

The men were in a heated discussion about their business and from what I can dissect from their ramblings is that they fully believe themselves to be hard working men, a rarity these days, and they must do what is necessary for their companies. Meaning, budget cuts, strikes from workers, firing people, and any horrible decision in the name of money. I refrain from rolling my eyes, or going over to berate them.

“Mr. Birling would not know what a hard day's work is.” someone says quietly behind me. His voice is smooth, confident, and whilst I agree due to what I have learnt about the birling family and the conversation I had just overheard, I still wouldn't say it aloud with him being this close. Not that he pays any attention to anyone but ‘hard working men’.

I turn my head slightly, the man behind me is tall, a smirk playing at his lips. His suit is finely tailored in a dark grey, with a peach tie. He takes a step forwards and stands at my side, staring out into the crowd, a glass of half drunk champagne in his hand. I return my gaze to the crowd. “Whatever makes you think that, surely you heard him talk about how much he works,” I try to suppress my own smirk and I also sneak a glance at the strange man. He merely takes a sip of his champagne.

“Right of course, his words, I shall listen more closely next time.”

“As you should. You wouldn't want to misinterpret someone's work ethic and make a fool of yourself in front of a stranger.”

“You consider me a fool now?” he turns to me now, hands pressed against his chest in fake offence. His brown eyes meet mine as I face him. His sharp cheekbones feel familiar, but I can't place where from.

“Yes. how could you consider someone such as Mr Birling, a man with such talent and tolerance of others, a man who clearly built his company and was not handed it by his father, how could you with a straight face imply he doesn’t know hard work.” we stare at each other for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. He has such a pure laugh, we seem to be the only sound in the room. People around us stop and stare, upset two people are having fun at a party. The stranger leans against one of the columns, disrupting the vines slightly. Yet he doesn't seem to care, as he slowly starts to regain his composure from our outburst.

Mr. Birling is one of the men looking at us with full disdain. He perceives us as two kids who do not understand life, he specifically tells his accountant that there is something wrong with us if the rumours are to be believed. Children of science. Outrageous. Especially a girl. A girl, not a woman. I ignore his pathetic whining, intent on not letting him ruin my night and return my focus to the stranger. Who, I realise, is someone who enjoys science. His face is more solemn now, having also overheard Mr.Birling. He quickly recovers and plasters a smirk on his face, a spark shines in his eye and I can already tell this won't be good.

“I want to meet this ‘girl’ who led the strike, perhaps she could use some help. I mean, all they ask is fair pay,”

“But fair pay is absurd. Completely and utterly absurd. Why should the wealthy share their wealth to those who ensure it.” he finishes for me. The men that run this world will end up being the reason it fails. We share a look, full of understanding and he lets out a sigh. Now we're talking about work and politics at a party.

“Aside from those charming men, how are you enjoying the party?” He gestures to the men around us and I snort. Charming was one word for them. Being with him and trading remarks felt like passing notes to each other, telling secrets during class even though we are meant to be listening to the teacher. I can't help but think I know him, and by the look in his own face he knows me. Perhaps we met but didn't have time for a full conversation like we are now.

“Mostly entertaining, the place is spectacular as always, the people are..” I searched for a word to describe the people, as well as my family. I love them dearly but they can be insufferable. “An interesting mix. My family is dramatic, so I escaped to the edge to peace and quiet, which apparently isn't possible. "I give him a pointed look but he takes no notice.

“My family is also dramatic, and I came for peace myself but found myself captivated by you, specifically how you watched the crowd, listening, and how you curled your fists in an attempt not to go and publicly humiliate the poor man. Which, by the way, I think you should've. Would've made the whole thing worth it.” He takes a sip of his champagne and I nearly roll my eyes at him. Of course he'd want that. From what I can tell he isn't someone who enjoys society and has no problem saying it. I also think about the families in attendance and which of those are dramatic. The only person I can think of is Darci's brother, whom I've not met but heard about his nature over wine with her.

“If I was merely standing here minding my business would you still have found me captivating enough to talk to me? Or is my appeal in my anger?”

He downs the rest of the drink and straightens himself taking a step towards me. I cross my arms, impatient but he gives me a soft smile. “I've been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, I always see you here at the edge, always. My eyes find you instantly in any crowd. Transfixed, captivating. It was an added bonus to me when I saw the fierce nature in your eyes up close, I knew I was right to want to befriend you.”

Silence falls as we both take in his words. I feel bad, not being able to figure out who he is. His honesty is admirable and makes me smile, as well as blush. I can feel heat rise to my cheeks. Just as I begin to rectify the situation by asking for his name, a man comes behind

me, he’s around 40 probably, and looks at me horrendously in an attempt at a smile. I recognised him from earlier, he's one of the men that spoke with Mr Birling and that alone makes me instantly want to recoil.

“Can I help you sir?” I asked and I can hear my own clipped words, yet somehow he does not. The smile widens and he looks me up and down. Then he offers his hand to me and I realise he wants to dance. With a woman half his age, that he has never met.

“Miss Wadsworth, dance with me?” more of a common than a question. Since I am already highly aware he doesn’t like when females have opinions or say no, I refrain from rolling my eyes and just walking off from him. Instead I take a step back, so I'm by my new friend’s side and smile widely.

“I'm afraid I already promised the darling Wadsworth a dance, we are just finishing our drinks first.” As if to prove my point he drinks the last of his drink, mostly to hide his smirk. Something else the man doesn't seem to notice. His face drops, but his pride makes him believe he can stand there, waiting for me to run to him. There is an awkward silence until I feel hands reach down and take mine, they are warm and make me jump slightly at the contact. Not in a bad way, not in the way I would have if it had been the man in front of me with his gaze like fire as he looks at our joined hands as though he has a right to be mad about it. I feel my own fire burn as he stares, so I tug his hand away from the man. I need to just escape into the dreamlike nature of the dancefloor, as well as thank my saviour and learn his name.

He leads me to the dance floor, nearer the edge and his hands slip down to my waist as I find his shoulders. His touch is hesitant but reassuring. Somehow he looks calm and terrified, as though he never expected to dance with me but never wants to stop. I can't help but feel the same as we begin to move. My skirt swirls around us and we say nothing for a while as we both calm ourselves and let the music envelope us. In a way, this is as close to my daydreaming as I might ever get. Being here on the dance floor with someone who isn't twice my age and the definition of misogyny. We dance as equals, neither of us truly leading but letting each other float around each other. We're sure of our movements and demand nothing from each other. It is a weird calmness that settles. We are strangers as far as i know, and yet we dance as though we have known each other our entire lives.

“You are a delight, miss Wadsworth.” he breaks the silence, somehow louder than the music for me, yet it's quiet. Almost like he didn't mean to say it aloud.

“How do you know me?” my voice matches and i feel bad asking, but i need to know. My tone is not accusing, and his face only burrows in confusion for a second before he smirks at me. A smirk I'm seeming to become familiar with.

“My sister Dacina speaks highly of you.” my eyes must expand as he laughs softly. That's why I recognized him. He has the same structure as Dacina, sharp cheekbone and soft skin. Perfect complexion.

“So you are the infamous Thomas cresswell?” this time I smirk and his eyes widen.

“Infamous? What on earth have you heard of me?”

“Your sister has lots of opinions on you.”

“Of course she does. Whatever she has said is most likely not true.” He blurts out and I laugh at his relationship with his sister and him wanting to impress me. “Unless she told you I am utterly irresistible, charming, quick witted and incredibly smart.” winking at me he sends me into a surprising spin and my hands land on his chest. We've sped up slightly, yet our heartbeats are both faster than necessary and I can see a hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“She did mention you have an overly large ego. She'll be happy to know I agree with her.” I feel his hands tighten at my waist slightly and I watch his curls fall down in his face as he shakes his head. I'm delighted by this turn of events. Daci is wonderful, and if this is the Thomas that I get to see, not his reputation, then I shall try and keep this in my life for as long as possible. His spark in his eyes shows how he may think the same. Also, if daci, liza and ileana are with Thomas, then i might have the most fun I've ever had in my life.

His voice slides through my thoughts, but also reinforces them. “I am sure she failed to mention how big of an ego she has. Honestly, Darci is worse than I. Have you met Illeana? She will surely agree with me on this.”

“I'm sure she would, I've also heard you are a scientist, what do you study?”

“The dead. Much like you and your uncle.” There is so much certainty in his voice, no resentment or the usual tone I hear so I gift him an earnest smile.

The song ends, and we stand, hands still on each other for a second longer than we should. Just as I go to remove my hands from his chest I feel him pinch my sides lightly. Then his warm hands slip from my waist and I wish more than anything to dance again.

We go to return back to the column near the buffet, where we first spoke, and as I take a step I feel him move so he's pressed at my back, his hands finding mine. Even though we are gloved, even though no one can see our hands due to how close we are, and how many people are moving about, my heart pounds at his bold nature. I adore it, so I squeeze him and keep my head facing forward as I lead him off the dance floor. We settle back, Thomas letting go of my hand to pick up two glasses of champagne and hands me one. We both take a long sip, perhaps settling our brains or making it worse. Well see.

“You look,” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words, brows furrowed slightly as if he was reading a dictionary, “enchanting.” he finally finishes, gifting me a rare smile it seems. No longer does he smirk at me, but shows me a genuine look that I want to have painted as it is the best thing I have witnessed. Heat rises to my cheeks as I look down at my dress. Someone at least understood what I was going for, with a pale peach colour, sparkling bodice that runs along the length of the skirt. The long sleeves adorned with tiny gemstones, golden to match the accented colours of the hall. In response to Thomas I look back up at him with my own genuine smile, perhaps some of the only true smiles to be shared this evening. His suit fits him perfectly, showing off his defined features, his tie a pale peach as well. I assume Dacina helps him, as her dresses always astound me with the details. There are tiny, miniscule gems on his tie, that snake down and remind me of vines.

“You look,” I act the way he did, scanning my brain for something that fits, handsome or charming doesn't do justice but I'm sure whatever I use will only boost his ego and be used against me, so I settle with: “bedazzling.”

“Bedazzling?”

“Thomas, I study the dead, I have to look closer than one should at things, so of course I noticed your tie. Henceforth: bedazzling.” The air shifts back to our teasing tone and he smirks once again.

“You are the only one to notice, except Daci of course, nothing gets past her. Am I correct in assuming you like the tie?” Despite his teasing I feel a hint of worry as if I wouldn’t like his tie.

“I adore the tie cresswell, everyone here should be weaning ties with tiny jewels.”

His face falls as he scans the crowd, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the groups of men. “I cannot tell if you are being serious with me or not, but I agree nonetheless. The men here are awfully drab, boring, plain. It's insulting to us really. Daci puts so much time into making this beautiful and these people do not see it.” He is shaking his head. I agree, I have heard how much work goes in and despite my effort to help she insists that I do nothing but enjoy the party. I have a sneaking suspicion though that Liza helps. The flower centrepieces are her favourite, and whilst that might be a coincidence I know how stubborn and convincing she can be.

“I do. I love her parties. I always find myself standing here, watching and noticing all the changes from the month prior. Like, last month she went for more of a red theme, with red roses as the centrepieces, little red accented chairs and carpets. Whereas this month is more of a forestry vine, hence the vines around the column.” I point as though they are a secret thing you need to search for even though they are obvious. Yet he turns anyway and runs his finger down the length of it with his adorable face set at a soft smile. Thomas might have been there when she got the idea, or placed them or he might have placed them himself and is now remembering it.

My gaze finds Thomas and he looks at me, baffled, and I feel the blush creeping back up. It is not the same confused look that I get when I tell people my love of science, but one of intrigue. As if he could listen to me talk forever and not get bored. It's as if he has never thought anyone would notice such things about his family's party. “Enchanting.” is all he whispers to me. Then he clears his throat, an ever so soft shake of his head as though once again the words were meant for him and not us both.

I stare out at the crowd again. I'm sure my family will want to know where I've disappeared to, I normally do not leave them this long. Liza I'm sure will want to know why I danced with Thomas. Yet the thought of leaving him makes my legs leaden and my heart sink and anchor me right next to him. Im completely wonderstruck, and feel ill have a permanent blush, especially when i look at his stupidly handsome face, his quick smirk and small smiles that feel special. It is odd, I've only heard stories, spoken to him briefly and danced, yet I have enjoyed his company immensely and hope this never ends. I want more dances and to steal more smiles to keep forever. I want to make fun of people together, and dance.

I go to steal a glimpse of him, expecting to find him staring at the crowd like I was but his eyes are on me. “I have to leave,” his abrupt words anchor me in an entirely different way, “I mean, I want to stay and I'm sure you want my amazing presence always now Wadsworth but I have to wake early. New job. So, my darling, I shall see you tomorrow.” Thomas hesitates for half a second and begins to walk away. I watch him go and say goodnight to his sister and then leave. His words fill my head. It’s reassuring to know he enjoys my company as much as I do.

I bolt upright in my bed, the lights, music and memories falling away as I focus on the last words he said to me.

I'll see you tomorrow.

What does tomorrow mean? Does it mean he has a job where he thinks I visit? Will he be making an effort to befriend me? Does he know my family? I am so confused. How had I not caught these words sooner? Perhaps he wants to tell me he had a terrible time, that he doesn't like my presence. I'm on my feet without realising, pacing back and forth, the cold air hugging me close. I wish he was in front of me now. I wish he would whisper the words enchanting again. I wish I knew what was happening in a few hours that warranted him saying those four words. I run my hands over my face, untie my hair and let my curls fall over my shoulder, brushing away the colder ever so slightly. I'm ridiculous. Four tiny words sent me spiralling. I climb back into bed, my hair fanning out around me and the blanket returning warmth back into my system. Immediately my mind returns to Thomas, his face forever in my mind. Even if tomorrow could be the last time I see him, there is a chance that it is just the start.

Enchanting…

Those words fill me with confidence that yes, Thomas might become someone special to me. That perhaps our dance sparked something and now all I wish is that I can tell him how enchanting he is.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @loveyatopluto @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc @the-hoofflepooff

#sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #cresswell #thomas and audrey rose #Thomas Cresswell #Audrey Rose Wadsworth #audrey rose #kerri maniscalco #enchanted #taylor swift #stalking jack the ripper #Hunting Prince Dracula #escaping from houdini #capturing the devil

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rosecrownreserve · 3 years

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DWC, Day 31 - Life, Death

Warning: Violence, death of an animal companion.

I decided for today that I would try to write things a little different. I’ve never written in first person perspective before.

I don't know why I'm in such a rush to reach Silvermoon. The march of the dead was pushing on no matter what stood in its way. The humans fell to it, why wouldn't my people meet the same fate? I'm exhausted both physically and mentally, but even rested I don't see myself making a difference alone.

Alone.

It had taken a lot to leave Oleander's body behind. I couldn't carry him, I haven't been able to lift him since he was a cub. I have to shake my head violently and force further thoughts of Oleander out. I can't stop now, going back is for when things are safe again. And I won't be able to see where I'm going if the tears return.

Ahead I see other defenders working hard at repelling packs of the dead and I all too eagerly, though tiredly as well, throw myself into it. This is muscle memory now. Drawing back the string on my bow, letting arrows fly even while having to keep moving to maintain distance. All of this grounds me in a way I need, keeping me from breaking internally from everything that's happening.

We rally ourselves as the bodies lie still once more, the others quickly learned to aim for the heads as well. There's barely time to regroup and exchange any intel before more packs come shuffling along. In the haze of combat, my ears pick up the sound of an all-too-familiar roar with an unsettling twist to it.

Beyond the current group of corpses, an undead lynx being ridden by an armored corpse awaited. Even altered by death, and in the heat of battle, I would never fail to recognize my own partner.

I suppose it made sense, didn't it? There had been some undead animals among the ranks pushing toward Silvermoon. Those that stood in the way of death's advance became part of it once they fell.

Which means if I fall, I could be reunited with him.

But this is the cold shock needed to push me out of my thoughts once more. I'm not ready to die yet, much less become part of something that could threaten the world itself. The rider using my partner has decided to get involved. There are only two other defenders left with me now, spreading out so we aren't all in one place for it to charge.

I don't know if it's coincidence or not, but I become the target of the charging cat. The rider, whether by design or inability to stay atop the pouncing lynx was left behind and tumbling along the ground.

I know the way Oleander fights. I've seen him in action more than enough over the years. But seeing it and having it aimed at me are two very different things. I avoid the charge but as the creepy glowing eyes stare me down, I don't find the strength to fire my arrow.

Dodging further attempts to reach me, or narrowly avoiding swiping claws, I try to keep my distance but he's always been great at keeping with me. Even with the other two firing at it, having dispatched his foolish rider, its clear that his focus is entirely on me.

“Please.” I plead with him. With any hint of him beneath the cold twisted exterior. But even commands don't break the spell upon him. Finally an arrow from one of the others catches his leg to slow his advances, his back already appears to be a pincushion. All of these things crush the part of my mind intently focused on remembering my partner.

My bow is finally drawn once more, my hand unsteadily holding the string. The shouting of the the other defenders has faded from the periphery of my focus. In the distance I know they're having to focus on new enemies while still confused at my hesitation. But all I see before me is my best friend in this world, even as he seeks to kill me. Hobbled leg or not, it's clear what he plans to do.

As he starts to move, my arrow flies.

I'm so sorry.

* * *

This forest isn't like the one I've grown up in. There are so many strange beings around, but all have been friendly. Every so often I catch a scent of something familiar, but the longer I stay the less I smell to make me think of home. How long have I been here?

I miss my friend.

I don't know how they know him but the keepers here once told me I had done a great thing and saved his life. That one day I might be reunited with him if I want to be. As if I wouldn't!

One day they excitedly announced that it was time for me to return. But as they were explaining, I fell into a deep slumber.

You will be reborn, experience life anew!

* * *

I've been placed in a box, told that I'm to have a new master after tonight. My siblings have each been given to people of their own, until only I remain. I can hear the sounds of people beyond the box, they all sound quite happy about something, until everything goes quiet and my box is picked up. I'm being moved!

The top of the box is removed and the light pours in finally. Unlike the long-eared people that have cared for me since birth, the one staring at me is pale, with hair a color I've never seen on a person before.

Something deep inside me fills me with a sense of happiness as we stare at each other. An instinct pleased to be reunited with family.

He removes me from the box at last to hold me in his arms as everyone around returns to their happy activities. By morning, he announces that he plans to call me Myra.

@daily-writing-challenge

#dwc2021 #day312021 #rosecrownreserve

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years

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Blue Memories (lbscexchange2021)

Yay! It’s Valentine’s Day!

Soooo....who wants a sad?

He opened the door for Marinette and gently escorted her inside.

She looked around, surveying every detail. The baby blue of the accent wall. The furniture in all of its strange varieties of makes that still somehow fit together. The assortment of decorations from the little black cat figurine that had been a joke housewarming gift from friends to her potted plants lined up at the wide windows—still tenderly cared for, even in her absence. All things that were part of the home. All things that made the home their own.

And yet, not a single hint of warmth came to her eyes.

“This is…my house?”

Ours, he didn’t say.

After all the things they had experienced throughout the years—the monsters they’d fought, the battles they’d won, the people they’d saved…

It seemed so surreal that it was something as simple as a car accident that would take her down.

She stepped through the entryway into the main room—tentative. Unsure. Like she didn’t think she belonged. Her grip on her cane tightened, belying her anxiety.

He rested a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. Allowing her to use him as her other support as she was forced to confront a home she didn’t know and memories she couldn’t recall.

“Just…take a bit of time to familiarize.” He whispered.

I will be with you every step of the way.

She took a breath but nodded before moving forward, and for a second—

Standing tall, wearing her suit like armor, her shoulders broad and head high in steely determination even in the face of overwhelming odds—

Luka could see the courageous young woman he loved in this stranger’s frame.

For her part, Marinette was…handling the circumstances if nothing else.

She stepped away from him, standing with only her cane and her one good leg for support. Rather than immediately head for the couch or any place to rest, she wandered the room, taken in by the all of the remnants of a person she used to be.

There was an array of frames along the wall as she passed, each containing memorabilia from newspaper clippings to artwork to awards. She gave them a cursory glance, none of them really standing out. At most, she barely touched one that contained a pink ribbon—

“Isn’t this a bit much? And a bit silly?”

Alya had gasped in mock outrage. “Girl, this is your own design house! We have to have a ribbon cutting ceremony to make it official! Otherwise, what have our years of labor been for?”

Marinette giggled. “You mean my labor?”

“Hey, don’t forget who did the interviews.” The other woman said with a wink.

More giggling.

“Of course, of course! I never would have gotten this far without you. Any of you.”

“And don’t forget it!” More giggling. “And besides, a happy opening is a sign of a happy beginning. This is your dream, girl! Go all out and enjoy it becoming real!”

“Okay, okay! So how will we do this?”

Luka smiled as he brought over the fancy scissors.

—pink ribbon, a couple inches thick, contained in a frame along with a picture of a group of strangers standing outside a building.

He carefully took their bags back to their his room, allowing her a moment to reflect and himself time to gain some composure.

To think it would be a car accident that did this. Not some epic villain battle, no. A stupid car accident because of her insistence on meeting him at the airport and some idiot who decided to run a red light. He'd consider laughing if he wasn't on the verge of breaking down…

But…she needed him. More than ever now.

When he returned, she was standing at the wall aligning with the window, lightly touching the dollhouse that was stationed there.

“Do we…did we have kids?”

“No.” Not yet.

It was grand—a four storied house with five rooms on each floor, each fully furnished in different ways. Its outside had the design of a cozy cottage, with walls were painted with a soft pink as well as white doors and window shutters. All of which were moveable, to her amazement.

“Where did we even get something like this?”

It had been a labor of love.

She hadn’t wanted to leave the kwamis stuck in the Miracle Box with no idea of the happenings in the world. And as they had begun spending more time outside, Marinette had been insistent that the kwamis deserved their own space outside of the Box. It had taken her weeks to make it—and multiple failed attempts.

She gave them their own home within hers. She’d wanted them to feel welcome.

It may very well have been the first time the little gods had cried.

“It was…a project.”

She frowned, but didn’t speak further. Her gaze turned to the nearby shelf on the adjoining wall. Holding a number of books. A single bin full of yarn for knitting. Two guitars rested along the side.

“Luka, it’s beautiful, but…why?”

“Why not?” He smiled.

“But…I’m not much of a guitar player. You know that. I’m not like you, Mr. Top 20 three-weeks-in-a-row. I still don’t know how to play the guitar.”

She moved to put it back in its case, but he pulled her back and into his lap along with the guitar. Her squawk of surprise only made him grin, and he placed a kiss to her head.

“That just means you’ll have more opportunity to learn.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

“Do you play?” She had asked, curious as she looked over the two guitars.

He smiled bitterly.

“Wow,” Dingo whistled as he peeked through the curtains. “Quite a crowd out there.”

“I’m not sure I can do this.” Luka muttered.

It had been one thing when he had been playing with Kitty Section. But the band had gone their separate ways and now he was playing center stage.

“No worries. It’s only your first show. If you choke, who will even remember?”

He sighed. “Yeah, see, that? That’s not helping.”

“I’ll tell you something that will, though…” Dingo trailed off with a smirk. Before Luka could react, the other wrapped an arm around his neck and dragged him to view the opening in the curtain.

“Dingo!”

“Take a look!”

Luka glared at his friend—or tried, but Dingo’s grip around his neck really kept him from turning in any direction besides the one the other wanted.

Dingo, for his part, didn’t even have the grace to look back, instead grinning at something through the curtain.

“A certain little lady in the center seat of the middle row.”

Luka froze. And immediately, his eyes glanced over the crowd, searching for…

Dark hair.

Blue eyes.

A bright neon pink sign with his name.

Her smile.

He breathed.

“Mari…”

Dingo clapped him on the back and released him.

“If you can’t play for your fans, play for her. You know she’ll always listen…”

“Yeah.” He answered.

What else could he say?

He’d built up his music career over years. For all that she had been busy with her own design house, she had still be there for him every step of the way. Supporting him. Inspiring him.

And now only one of them still knew that.

“Congratulations on the release of your new single!”

Ah.

He winced as the flashing lights hit him.

For all the time he spent on tour, he would never get used to this.

“Thank you.”

He knew better than to respond. It wouldn’t be enough. It was like an avalanche of questions and microphones barreling down on him.

“Mr. Couffaine! How do you feel about your ranking on the Music’s Top Ten?”

“Is there any truth to the rumors that you are doing a collaboration piece with Jagged Stone?”

“Are you really having an illicit affair with XY?”

“Luka Couffaine, you just completed the last stop of your world tour! What are you going to do now?”

Finally, the one question he wanted to answer.

“I have someone to see.”

It had been both a dismissal and an explanation as he took his leave to wait for his ride.

Tomorrow was their anniversary, after all. He’d managed to schedule the end of his tour to give him just enough space to make it back in time to spend it with her.

Marinette was probably already waiting at the airport at this moment.

Or at least…she should have been?

He checked his watch. Was he early? A bit, but not by much…it had been a little last minute for her, though. Maybe she was caught in traffic?

His phone rang. Was that her?

“Hello?”

“…”

“…what?”

He winced and turned away, trying to fight back the burning in his eyes.

Maybe she saw his reaction because she went silent as well. The tension of the room heightened, near to the point of stifling. For all that he wanted to reach out to her, there was a distance between them that felt…impassible.

He heard her move further into the room. Closer to the kitchen, it sounded like. He listened as something seemed to slide briefly across the countertop, as if she had picked up something for a closer look. Despite his better judgement, his curiosity got the better of him and he turned to see—

It had been hell. The date. The entire day. Hell. To the point he was convinced that some higher powers were giving a sign that this relationship wasn’t meant to be.

Except it wasn’t a sign, it was a fucking billboard.

He’d had it all planned out. Picking her up in his new car. They would have dinner together, followed by a movie, coffee and dessert at a nice little cafe he’d heard good things about, then a stroll by the Seine.

Except whatever higher power up there hated him, apparently.

First the car—the brand new (okay, only slightly used) car he’d recently purchased wouldn’t start, so he’d had to ride his bike to reach her. This meant the restaurant was a no go, meaning his reservation that he’d put in a good month in advance went to waste. Marinette had suggested they just walk to the movie which he was fine with, except that it started raining and the theater in question suffered a power outage. Desperately trying to salvage the night, he’d led her to the cafe anyway only to find they had apparently gone out of business the day before.

Luka was…done. He was just done. He’d apologized profusely and tried to call a cab for her before he’d walk home in the rain so he could scream into his pillow.

Suffice to say, he was pretty sure the date was a bust. And would likely be the first and last he’d ever get with her.

But while he’d been on the phone discovering that traffic was backed up and even THAT much of the night wasn’t going to go right either, Marinette had noticed a little souvenir kiosk under an awning nearby. He hadn’t known what specifically had caught her eye, but when she returned, it was with a thermos of tea she had brought from home and two little mugs she’d just purchased—both with their own different engravings.

She passed the "I AM WEIRD" cup to him. Was…was this a joke? Was she saying something?

He wasn't sure what it was until he saw her blushing as she sipped from her own cup, clearly displaying the engraving of "I LOVE WIERD".

The night went wrong in so many ways. But there…huddling from the rain under the storefront tarp, sitting next to her...he felt warmer than the hot tea could have been responsible for.

She held the “I LOVE WEIRD” cup gingerly, staring at the porcelain as if it could tell her its secrets. But when nothing could be found, she set it back at its previous place and continued on.

Marinette’s gaze had moved on to the next item of interest. She peered into the various photographs lining the top of the nearby shelf. Each contained images of a young couple. A man with teal hair and a lip ring along with a woman with dark blue hair and earrings. The pictures varied—them hugging while bundled up in the winter season, him picking her up and her holding him tightly for balance, them dancing at an outdoor festival, them making silly faces in a photobooth. Each one of them smiling.

One that kept her attention, however, had the man in a tuxedo and the woman in a stunning floor length dress. It was white with an illusion neckline, and bore the images of petals. But the truly striking feature was the airbrushed effect at the bottom of the dress as it changed from white to vibrant teal and finally to black—a clear match to the hair of the man standing beside her.

It was a wedding.

She had said he inspired her dress. That she had made it with him in mind. He had believed her, of course. He never needed her to prove she loved him.

But oh, how his heart had sung seeing her like that. In his colors. Showing the world whom she belonged with.

He had barely heard anything the priest had said. He had to have stumbled in his vows at least twice. He was torn between burning to touch her and yet not wanting to dare to—that something so beautiful shouldn’t be touched.

He would never forget the way she had reached out for him instead and held his hands with hers as she said she wanted to start a life with him.

She picked up the picture.

“It’s beautiful.”

It’s her.

“It’s beautiful. And I can’t…I don’t…”

Like gravity had failed her, she collapsed rather than sat onto the sofa—

That ugly, ugly leather sofa that Jagged had insisted they take with them from Marinette’s brief stint as his personal designer.

“No, you keep it, Mari. You’re gonna need something to spruce up your new place.”

“Jagged, seriously. That thing is hideous and I don’t need it.”

“What are you talking about? It’s perfect! It’s leather! And sturdy! And you can even pull it out into more of a bed. Besides, who knows when you’ll be bringing a studly young man to your place and need something to ‘rock it’ in, eh?”

“Oh my god, Jagged, please don’t!”

“Ey, Luka! Come on, mi boy, back me up!”

“Luka, don’t you dare—!”

Luka, for his part, kept his focus on cleaning his equipment and wisely said nothing.

He moved to her side without thinking.

“Mari…”

“What…” She looked up at him, hopelessly lost. “What now? What do…we do?”

She held the picture frame to her, as if trying to fill the hole in her heart that once contained years worth of love.

“I don’t know what…I don’t know how to…”

She sobbed.

If the phone call had shattered his world, this had crushed the remaining pieces.

“What…what are you saying?”

The doctor sighed.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Couffaine. But the damage of the crash and the shock of the incident has led to some trauma. We are running tests, but there is no way to tell just how great the extent is or how long it will last.”

He barely heard the words for what they were. Percentages. Chances. Outcomes. Luck.

She’d always beaten the odds before, hadn’t she?

She could…

Surely, she could…

He barely noticed when the doctor had led him to the white—white, white horrible white room.

And the all too pale and shaken woman resting inside.

“Who are you?”

It was her eyes.

Her beautiful blue eyes.

But not a trace of familiarity.

“Hello, Marinette.”

He smiled, trying to not let tears fall.

“My name is Luka…”

He slowly moved to sit beside her, taking his wife into his arms like he always did.

It…wasn’t the same.

"It'll be okay..."

Throughout his life, Luka had always been a river. Slow. Steady. Constantly cutting a path through life and through the world.

Luka was a river.

But for Marinette, he had been her rock.

“We’ll make new ones.” He promised her.

Day by day. Moment by moment. He would stay with her and make new memories.

It wouldn’t replace what was lost.

But they would make it together.

#ml fic #lbscexchange2021 #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #lukanette #ml angst #ml sad #car accident #memory loss

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hopelesshawks · 4 years

Text

Official Accounts Part 17- The Patrol Redux

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Warning: Very slight spoilers for the provisional licensing exam in the anime and spoiler for the manga

Masterlist

Hawks was well accustomed to the jovial persona he was expected to put on in front of pretty much everyone outside of the commission. After all, it was one he’d cultivated almost his whole life. Of course he had days throughout the years where it felt all too exhausting to play the joker, but hero work was exhausting. That was the nature of the business. But since he’d watch your heart shatter in real time, since he’d heard you crying on the other side of a bathroom door all while you texted him about his betrayal, the persona hadn’t just been exhausting but absolutely suffocating. Yet he couldn’t turn it off. It was almost more natural to be Hawks than it was to be Keigo now. Even when Mirko had pointed out how rough he looked, his instinct had been to sit up straighter and perk up his wings as if that would hide the bags under his eyes. Hawks never dropped the persona. But as he sat on the roof of a building by where he intended to meet Chargebolt he realized he would probably have to.

Mirko had given him a plan. A really good one at that. If it worked he’d have to thank her later. But there was no way it would if he wasn’t genuine and that meant meeting Denki Kaminari as Keigo Takami. If the conversation stayed between Chargebolt and Hawks he was screwed. Knowing it was necessary and actually doing it, however, were two different beasts entirely. He would have to ignore every instinct he had honed over the more than decade he’d been a ward of the HPSC.

It had taken all of Denki’s strength to leave the apartment. You had looked so sad bundled up in his comforter staring blankly at your laptop screen as you went back and forth between attempting to work from the safety of his home and Netflix. Eventually though he had managed to pull himself away from his heartbroken friend, no matter how much it pained him, to go join the very person who had shattered you so thoroughly. He had wanted to cancel his patrols with Hawks but after the gossip blog had tweeted out about a potential feud his agency had demanded he keep it in order to avoid a pr nightmare. Who knew being a hero came with so much politics.

He expected Hawks to swoop down from above once he arrived at their designated meeting spot. He did not expect Hawks to look as bad as he did. “You look like shit,” Denki says by way of greeting. Hawks let’s out a humorless chuckle, “you’re the second person to tell me that today. Let’s go.” Everything about the experience is odd. As the two begin to walk Denki notices the bags under his eyes, the heavy set to his shoulders. For the first time ever Hawks truly looks like a man who carries the weight of Japan on his shoulders. “I know I have no right to ask this but how is she doing?” Hawks asks. Denki wants to snap back something snarky but something tells him not to. “Not good,” he says instead, shoving his hands into the pockets of his costume. Hawks thinks for a long moment, debating whether to ask the next question that comes to mind. In the end he decides he’s got nothing left to lose. “What happened at the provisional licensing exam?” “Dude.” “Not investigating. I swear.”

It’s weird to see Hawks so serious. Even when Denki had been injured during their first patrol Hawks hadn’t stopped bantering even once. It’s what had made Denki want to continue patrolling with him in the first place. At the time he thought they were similar. Class clowns who knew how to pull it together when the going got tough. But now all traces of that joviality seemed gone, except for the few moments the two of them would pass by a civilian, then he’d watch it slide back on like a second skin. “I’ll tell you on one condition. You explain the whole funny guy act thing you’ve got going on right now. It’s creeping me out a little seeing you switch back and forth dude,” Denki says.

Hawks stops dead in his tracks. His jaw clenches because it’s fair, trading one personal fact for another, but it goes against everything the HPSC has taught him. On the other hand, if he refuses, Denki will assume he’s just investigating again and then his chances of winning you back would really be gone. Denki looks confused as Hawks agonizes. He didn’t think it was that deep a question. Expected something along the lines of why All Might used to smile as he saved people. “It was the commission’s idea. I was a quiet kid and quiet doesn’t play well for a top hero,” Hawks finally admits before resuming walking. Denki has to speed up a little to keep pace. It’s an odd answer but he recognizes it must’ve been a difficult one to give. And, well, a deal is a deal.

“Like I said, (y/n) only took the exam because I pressured her into it,” Denki starts. He expected Hawks to perk up at learning new information about you but the man only nods in acknowledgment that he’s listening. “I thought if she got her license it’d convince her to try to be a pro hero again and then she could switch over to the hero course and join my class. She absolutely crushed the first part of the exam too. Yknow we had to tag targets on each other with these balls they gave us. It felt like a game so it was fun for her because she just smoked people out of the water. You should’ve seen Bakugo’s face when he realized she passed before he did! But uh, not the point.... The, uh, the point is uhm second round didn’t go so hot. We were helping some of the fake civilians when Gang Orca broke into the arena to play a villain attacking during a rescue and it, uh, it hit a little too close to home. Reminded her too much of how her mom died. She ended up having a panic attack. That’s why she failed and that’s why she didn’t bother going to any of the supplemental classes afterwards.”

The weight on Hawks’ shoulders seems to grow. “God I really am the worst aren’t I?” he chuckles. “Yea you kinda are,” Denki agrees, “but you’re kinda making it hard for me to hate you. Looking all torn up over this like that. It’s depressing seeing the number two hero like this yknow.” “Hence the persona,” Hawks shrugs. It’s quiet today, although they both expected as much. At least it gave them the space to talk. “Why’d you do it Hawks?” Denki finally asks. “Because she was too good to be true.” “Funny. She said the same thing about you that day.” “I’m many things but I don’t know if good is one of them anymore.” “Because of what happened with (y/n)?” “No. Not just that.” “I think this is the most honest I’ve ever seen you.” “This is the most honest I’ve ever been.” “How’s it feel?” “Terrifying. Mirko says I have trust issues.” “Yea that lines up.” “I need to talk to (y/n).”

Denki is the one to stop in his tracks this time. “I swear to god Hawks if you’re just trying to jerk her around I-“ “No! No it’s not that. I-,” Hawks sighs, “I just want a chance to explain why I am the way I am. Why I was so suspicious in the first place. If she wants nothing to do with me after that then that will be the end of it. I’ll write her a glowing recommendation letter for whatever hero agency she’d rather work at instead and she’ll never hear from me again. I swear.” Denki gives Hawks a considering look. Part of him wants to deny Hawks. That’s what Bakugo would do. Tell him to fuck off and keep his stupid explanations to himself. But he thought about you, curled up in his comforter, and decided it really shouldn’t be his decision whether Hawks stayed in your life or not. And if you were going to decide, you deserved to do so knowing all the facts. “Fine. After we finish patrol you can come with me to my place and talk to her but I swear to god if you make her cry again or I detect any bullshit, I’ll fry you Hawks. Number two hero or not I’ll send a million volts straight through your face with my fist.” “Thank you.” It was sighed out like a prayer. For the first time since you’d seen his texts, Hawks felt hopeful.

Author’s Note: Denki and Mirko are good friends to (y/n) and Hawks :’) In my mind there’s no way the HPSC didn’t know about Touya so I assume they helped Endeavor cover it up and would do their absolute best to make sure word didn’t get out about him being a literal child abuser

Taglist [open]: @cathy8taffy @katzurras @grumpyfroggies @captaincyberqueen @itskindofafairything @420-uwu @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut

#hopelessoa #hawks #hawks x reader #wing hero hawks #hawks x y/n #hawks smau

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