#i wanted a more expressive one but nope here's an average one instead

[ruiiplume]

Based on this:

[david-talks-sw]

The deleted scene that summed up Obi-Wan and Anakin's arcs in AOTC.

I sorta touched on this subject in this post (although it's buried all the way down because it's the longest post I've ever written), but I was reading an earlier draft of the screenplay for Attack of the Clones from July 4th 2000, and landed on THIS scene (Scene 51):

And I'm fucking geeking out.

So Scene 51 is an older iteration of this scene:

It was re-shot and placed earlier in the film because they wanted to add Yoda to the scene, and it's intentionally placed right after the scene where Anakin talks to Palpatine to contrast how Anakin and Obi-Wan interact with their mentor figures.

Anakin gets told what he wants to hear, Obi-Wan is told what he needs to hear. In Lucas' words:

"You can see that Palpatine is sort of boosting his ego to make him feel that he's better than possibly he really is. A lot of his philosophies and things are repeated, later on, by Anakin when he gets into situations about how he should be allowed more freedom, more assignments. We contrast that with the three Jedi and show Obi-Wan's concern about the fact that his apprentice is getting ahead of himself, and he's arrogant. Obi-Wan is put down a little bit by Yoda there 'cause Yoda says that that arrogance exists in the older Jedi too, which is a way of warning Obi-Wan that he may be suffering the same hubris." - Attack of the Clones, Commentary Track 2, 2002

But here's what we lose from that original iteration... ahem... THE EXPLICIT FORESHADOWING OF OBI-WAN AND ANAKIN'S ARCS IN ATTACK OF THE CLONES!

That one conversation with Mace spells out Obi and Ani's inner journeys throughout the film.

Obi-Wan’s arc: learning to have faith in Anakin.

So a character arc is driven by that character's inner flaw. In Attack of the Clones, Obi-Wan is being a stern, overprotective, helicopter parent.

Anakin is better and much more skilled than your average Jedi and so a lot of the concerns Obi-Wan expresses aren’t necessary, he’s just nagging and questioning him pointlessly. 

Does he overcome this flaw, in the film? Yes.

Obi-Wan learns to have faith in his Padawan’s judgement and abilities. He listens to Anakin's suggestion and they take down a whole destroyer. He gives Anakin his lightsaber, trusting his apprentice's fighting skills.

Anakin’s arc: duty over emotion & controlling his arrogance.

This one's a two-parter.

On the one hand, Anakin's in love. But he's a Jedi.

At some point, his love needs to take a backseat because if it keeps distracting him, he can't do his job as a Jedi.

Does Anakin complete this part of the arc, in the film? Yes.

Anakin hesitates, he protests... but eventually, he does focus on his duty before his personal wants. Obviously, this is just a first step in a long journey, but that step has been taken.

On the other hand, Anakin is arrogant.

Because he's so skilled, Anakin will keep pushing the envelope, he'll get overconfident and cocky. He'll jump into danger, overestimating his abilities, and it usually bites him in the ass.

Like, Obi-Wan may be overly concerned at times, but he's also right on the money when it comes to this.

Does Anakin overcome this flaw? Nope!

Still angry for having to leave Padmé behind and seeing his Jedi brothers and sisters get slaughtered in the arena, Anakin rushes Dooku, thinking he can take him on by himself, and gets blasted out of the game, leaving Obi-Wan to fend for himself. When he rejoins the fray, he overestimates himself, which costs him an arm.

CONS & PROS of the reshoots in AOTC.

If we look at this scene as it used to be, it gives us a clearer idea of Obi-Wan and Anakin's dynamic, being as it helps set up and frame their arcs more explicitly.

Also, while Windu still tells Obi-Wan to get off Anakin's back in the final version, once again, in this version of the scene it's done more explicitly. Had this stayed in the film as it was, future portrayals and receptions of Mace Windu would've been more charitable. Instead of framing him as someone who "always disapproved of Anakin" we might've seen a slightly more nuanced take on his relationship with the young Jedi in future books, for instance.

But the "show don't tell" saying in screenwriting and filmmaking is a classic. And in this case, while George removed a few lines that told us this arc, he added a few moments in the film to show it to the audience. Among other things:

Obi-Wan and Anakin's elevator scene. Originally, this wasn't in the film. George decided to insert it to establish that, on a normal day, Obi-Wan and Anakin have a pretty good symbiotic relationship. But Anakin meeting Padmé for the first time in 10 years is a catalyst event that makes Anakin act more petulant and arrogant than usual, which in turn makes Obi-Wan more stern. (the argument could be made that this would be more efficient if we were shown the "nest of Gundarks" incident, rather than told about it, but hey)

On Geonosis, when Obi-Wan compliments Anakin for successfully taking down a Core Ship, that moment was added during reshoots.

More importantly, the whole "put the ship down" interaction was drastically changed.

Originally, it was shorter, and the conflict in that scene wasn't as strong. It originally felt as simply Obi-Wan being a stickler as usual and Anakin pulling another one of his tantrums, without realizing that "dude, Padmé's fine, look!"

They shot it like this, and in the editing room one of the Assistant Editors pointed this out to Lucas. There was no tension.

So George reshot it and turned this exchange into a pivotal character moment. Now, there's a whole new meaning.

Obi-Wan needs Anakin by his side, he can't face Dooku alone. If he does, he will get killed. Anakin thinks Padmé is in danger, or worse, that she's dead (and we're not robbed of this tension by immediately showing she's fine).

Obi-Wan reminds him of his job. Anakin still only listens to his own emotions.

Obi-Wan warns him. He'll be expelled form the Jedi Order; real shit. If the roles were reversed, Padmé would put her duty first too. So, moment of truth, what's it gonna be?

Anakin looks inward... and makes a decision.

Says George Lucas:

"This scene with Padmé falling out of the ship - when I originally wrote it and we cut it together - it didn’t quite work. [...] We looked at it, and one of the Assistant Editors said “you know, it really looks like something should happen and it doesn’t”. [...] So we reshot this scene, with Hayden and Ewan, and really brought out the central issue which was not in the first time I shot it, which was ‘if you go back, you will be expelled from the Jedi Order’. And that level of confrontation hadn’t been there." - Attack of the Clones, Director's Commentary, 2002

So yeah. Little something I noticed.

I love this BtS stuff.

Oh and you can read the older AOTC script here.

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xi

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: mentions of explicit themes, curse words

word count: 2.6k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist]:  @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07​ @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle​ @btsmakesmehappy​ @stargukkie​​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

As soon as you get out of the elevator, you rush to the slot where your car is parked, checking your surroundings before sending a quick text to Chohee. 

You fall silent, remembering the events that transpired last night, and having to see the cause of it all just this morning.

You barely make it out of the basement with the eight-year-old family Camry you borrowed from your parents and as you exit your apartment building, you make a mental note to have it checked one of these days. 

Thankfully, you reach Woocheon alive and in no time, considering the current state of your car. There are only thirty vacant slots left when you reach the hospital’s basement. Sighing, you keep your eyes open for any vacancies. When you spot one just beside the space reserved for motorcycles and bikes, you speed a little towards it, hoping that no one else will beat you to it. 

Just next to you, a scooter arrives, and as a familiar mop of blonde hair greets you, you knock on your window, excitedly waving at Jimin as he lifts up the scooter seat to retrieve some of his things inside. “Jimin!!” 

“Hello, _______, good morning to you too. You seem...bright-er today.” 

“I’ll tell you all the deets later with Soomin, but ackkk can you believe it? Our first day!!” Jimin laughs at your enthusiasm as he waits for you to get your stuff from the passenger seat. 

“You want me to help you with that?” Jimin eyes the duffel bag hanging by your shoulder. “I’m okay, no worries,” you reply, reassuring Jimin and waving him off with a free hand. 

“_______, it seems as heavy as it looks...” Ah, maybe the strap straining against your shirt was a little too obvious then... but you don’t have the heart to burden Jimin with your own belongings so you politely decline one more time. 

Jimin, however, isn’t convinced one bit with your statement, especially when he sees your knuckles turn white as you adjust the strap of your bag. “How ‘bout this instead? You carry my bag, and I’ll carry yours because mine is definitely lighter than that...baggage of yours, ________.” 

He doesn’t budge from his spot, raising his eyebrows as he gives you an offer you can’t deny. “Fine, but this is only for today, okay?” Pouting, you hand your bag over to Jimin who accepts it with a smug smile. He then proceeds to jokingly topple over due to the weight of your bag. 

“Jimin!” you exclaim, tugging the strap back towards you. “I’m kidding! It’s fine _______, don’t worry about me,” he smirks, doing weird poses as you both make your way out of the basement parking lot. Just a couple of minutes later, and Jimin entertaining you all the way through, you both arrive at a small restaurant just beside the hospital where the three of you agreed to meet for breakfast. 

With brows furrowed in concern, Jimin waves his fork in front of you to get your attention, “_______, you okay? You’ve been staring at that bottle for quite some time already...you think maybe you can ketchup later instead?” Jimin snickers quietly to himself, while you and Soomin have similar expressions, staring blankly at Jimin who instantly turns quiet after seeing your reactions. Jimin sinks slowly in his seat as he clears his throat. “Uhm, sorry...I’ll just shut up...for now...”

“Mustard you do that this early in the morning?” Soomin looks at you then squints her eyes at Jimin while she fights the grin playing on her lips. Jimin’s face lights up like a little kid on Christmas day. The two share a high five as they bond over their equally awful jokes as you quietly rejoice in your seat, glad that they seem to have come out of their shells after their awkward first meeting. 

You wish someone else in particular would have at least made an effort to rectify your rather unpleasant first meeting too. 

“You two would make a cute couple.” You make sure your observation is loud enough for them to hear, disguising half of your sentence as a cough to distinctly express your amusement. 

The two instantly part at your remark - Soomin going back to picking at her food while Jimin takes a sip of is drink. Your eyes widen a little bit, realizing that you might have celebrated a little too early for that. “Anyways, like Jimin here mentioned, you do seem a little distracted today...you alright?” 

You close your eyes for a bit, trying to lose the image of Jungkook greeting you in your own corridor this morning. You’re certain it’s not just your sheer pique against Jungkook that continues to bother you, but half of it is definitely the humiliation that came with realizing he was the same person that had indirectly brought you to your high last night - and your own dignity could not take the veracity of it all. 

“Okay, remember when I told you guys recently that my neighbor was leaving and that she’s looking for a new tenant, right?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“And do you also remember the time I mentioned that I am...uh...displeased with a particular human being named Jeon Jungkook?” 

It’s Soomin who makes a second murmur of affirmation. 

“Ah, yes... you meant you hate him. Am I correct?” seconds Jimin. 

“That is affirmative. Yes.” 

You take a deep breath before starting, “Well...” 

“Hang on, let me just backtrack a little bit...we’re talking about the same Jeon Jungkook from Yonsei right? The one you tied with at the boards?” 

“That is also a yes.” 

“Well... I think he might be my new neighbor.” Grimacing, your face crumples in disappointment while you imagine just all the possible things that might happen having Jungkook as your neighbor...and all the nightmares that will accompany his moving in. 

Jimin purses his lips in a poor attempt to control his snicker. “You have an insane amount of bad luck following you around, ________.” Courtesy of Chohee divulging yours and Jungkook’s history all the way to your first encounter with him, Jimin is well aware of your resentment towards Jungkook. 

“In all honesty though, he seems like a normal dude. Just leaning a bit towards the cheeky side, but nothing too atrocious really...and if I do say so myself, you really, and quite literally, just got off on the wrong foot.” 

“Jungkook...Jungkook...Jeon...” Soomin is looking somewhere else, clearly focused on trying to recall a memory as she repeatedly taps her nails against the table repeatedly. “There’s something about him that I’m forgetting but,” she says, looking at her watch, “but shit!! We’re going to be late, we gotta leave!” 

The three of you get up from your seats abruptly, the sound of your chairs scraping against the floor startling the other customers in the restaurant. “Come on! Quickly!” 

The locker room is full by the time the three of you arrive that you have to squeeze through rows of interns before a female WMC employee in uniform comes through the door with an announcement. “All interns, please proceed to the lobby for your hospital tour and orientation. Chief Park Daejung will be with you momentarily.” 

Your trio scrambles to look for free lockers while the rest of the interns start to file out of the room, so when Jimin finds a free one for the meantime, he hurriedly grabs both yours and Soomin’s stuff and stashes them inside before ushering you all out of the room to catch up with the group. 

At the lobby, the HR assistant from earlier, Narae (the same reason you’re convinced majority of the male interns are paying more attention than expected) is already making a roll call of all the interns that came in this morning and your trio just makes it in time to hear your names getting called. 

Even from the back row with all the disadvantages of having average height, you’re practically buzzing in your spot and just like a crazed woman, you’re powerless to shake off the smile that seems permanently etched on your face. 

“Excited?” Jimin nudges your side as he looks at you with an equally warm smile. “Yeah...” you murmur, marveling at the sheer size of the hospital, “I have studied my ass off my whole life for this moment...” 

Opening the information booklet handed over by Ms. Narae earlier, you slide your ballpen off your lanyard, deciding to write your name both in Korean and English on the first page and officially claiming it yours. As you get to your surname, someone bumps into you, causing you to scribble a line throughout the entire page. 

You take a deep breath, internalizing your annoyance and drilling it to the far end of your brain. Nope, you weren’t going to let this bother you, not today at the least. The name Chief Park Daejung class out however, makes you look up from the booklet. 

“Jeon Jungkook? Glad to have you join us...fifteen minutes after call time.” 

“I am sorry, Sir. Something came up. This won’t happen again.” 

The chief turns to Narae, who’s been nothing but professional the whole time, ignoring all the ogling from all the other interns, “Didn’t know we actually got him. I’d recognize this kid anywhere. He’s the spitting image of his father - plus, they both make sure to make strong first impressions,” adds the chief, handing over a clipboard back to Narae. 

Even though the voice coming from your right is unmistakable, you still close your eyes in fervent prayer, hoping that the person the chief was referring to isn’t the same number one person on your fight-on-sight list. Slowly, you pry one of your eyes open just to see Jungkook already staring you down with a smug grin on his face. “Fancy seeing you here, smally.” 

Soomin, who’s standing on your left, leans toward your ear. “Ah, that’s what I was going to say earlier this morning...Jungkook was on the intern list.” 

With the smallest smile your face muscles can muster, you look at Soomin, eye to eye. “Thanks for the warning, Soomin. I...really appreciate it.” She winks at you as she replies, “You’re very much welcome, dear.” 

Jimin, who seems to have overheard the entire conversation, looks over and waves at Jungkook. “Hey bro, didn’t know you applied for Woocheon too! This is awesome!” 

You’re starting to question if your so-called friends are really on your side or not. 

Taken aback by Jimin’s questionable enthusiasm, Jungkook scratches the back of his head before voicing out a reply, “Oh yeah...surprise! I guess...” 

Surprise indeed. 

“Well, shall we start then? We’ve got a long day ahead of us!” Chief Park clasps his hands together, “Everyone, welcome to the Woocheon Medical City.” 

Woocheon is going to be hell. 

Miss Narae continues to walk your group around the hospital’s main building - through the lobby, cafeteria, outpatient clinics, as well as the different departments. “Correct me if I’m wrong but don’t the orientations usually come before the tours?” you ask Soomin, going over to the page of the booklet showing the hospital map.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of foot traffic in the hallways starting from ten onwards so it’s not recommended to have the tour during those times…” Soomin replies. 

“Oh… I see…” Your group finally arrives by the operating rooms and you close the booklet, focusing on Miss Narae’s guidelines. Suddenly, the automatic doors open and out come two doctors talking to each other with the taller man stretching his arms. “Interns, may I introduce to you our surgical residents, Dr. Min Yoongi and Dr. Kim Namjoon, specializing in general surgery and neurosurgery respectively.” Your group bows to the senior doctors, likewise greeting them a good morning. 

“You all sure about choosing medicine as your career path?” The smaller one of the two, who you assume to be Dr. Min, says with a straight face. 

“Hyung, don’t scare them away! But just so you know,” Dr. Kim adds, then takes a step closer to your group, “...there’s still time to back out, kids,” he whispers, earning nervous chuckles from the group. 

“Ah new babies!!” Someone from behind your group announces. With the blue scrubs he’s wearing, you assume he’s another surgeon (and an insanely handsome one too). “Apples keep the doctors away but the hospital can’t really keep its patients away can it? Else we wouldn't have such a magnificent hospital such as the Woocheon Medical City, right?” Laughter erupts from the group as he passes through, making a beeline towards Dr. Min and Dr. Kim. 

Miss Narae clears her throat, gathering everyone’s attention once more, “I’d also like to introduce to you Dr. Kim Seokjin, also a surgical resident specializing in general surgery.” 

“Oh don’t believe her! With looks like these? Sheesh! We’re actually newbie actors filming season 3 of Hospital Playlist...but you know...between us three, it’s obvious who sets the bar, right?” This earns eye rolls from both Dr. Min and the other Dr. Kim. 

Pushing Dr. Seokjin towards the operating room, Dr. Yoongi turns to your group again, “Please ignore him. We’re actual licensed doctors…Hyung just…” Dr. Min sighs, rubbing at his temples, “...he says he doesn’t like attention but he keeps on doing humiliating things like these…” 

Dr. Seokjin, who’s already inside the operating room hallway, overhears Dr. Min’s words. “Hey! Why do you keep outing me like this?! Also, this appendectomy will just take a while - wait for me! I’m craving kalguksu today!”  

“Soomin...is it just me or everyone here has got to be damn attractive?” 

Jungkook leans in from behind, raising his eyebrows at you and Soomin. “Oh you guys weren’t aware that it was one of the qualifications before getting accepted into Woocheon? Kind of an unspoken rule really…” Jungkook remarks as he crosses his arms over his chest and you swear on your life you hadn’t taken a peek at the very distracting outline of his arms. 

Jimin who seems to agree with the idea wholeheartedly, places his fingers under his chin and wriggles his eyebrows wildly. 

Boys. 

Rolling your eyes at them, you retort, “You do realize that that only means we’re hot too.” likewise raising your shoulders at them. Soomin gives you a high five before flipping her hair towards the two. Jungkook gives you both a lopsided smirk in reply, “I’m not going to deny that.” 

Soomin grabs you by the elbow, turning both your backs to the boys behind you, “You sure you hate him, or you just can’t take the way he’s flirting with you?” 

© joontier 2021

[plzignr]

You know what, Fuck Disney.

Disney is a horrible company. They’re quite revisionist both with the history of the fairy tales they steal from and then attempt to copywrite, and with their own history. It infuriates me. Let me point out some ridiculous bullshit the company does to attempt to keep it’s ‘family friendly’ nonsense.

 If you ever go to Disneyland/World, you will notice that all the employees point with two fingers. Like this:

Now, if you ask them why they do this the employee response will always be “It is rude in some cultures to point with one finger”. Which is ‘technically’ true. It is rude to point with one finger in China, some areas of Europe, and Japan.

Thing is, in these cultures it’s equally rude to point with any amount of fingers at a person. Instead all of these culture employ a waving motion to gesture towards what they are indicating. Really they excuse then should be, it’s rude to point. But here they are pointing anyway, with their stupid two finger ridiculousness:

Always with two fingers because they are specifically trained to do this. No I’m serious, it’s literally a part of the training.

And that’s kind of weird. Especially since it’s NOTHING BUT LIES. 

Oh... You want me to prove it? Okay. If it was so rude to do in other cultures that employees are specifically instructed not to do so, you’d think that rule would apply to someone equally as important, if not more so than the employees right?

Like if the whole point is “We don’t want you to make you make Disney Corp. look insensitive” there’s a more important person who we wouldn’t want to do that right? Like Oh, I dunno all the park characters?

Here’s Goofy Pointing with his index fingers.

No. Not good enough? Oh what’s that, he’s not really pointing with his index fingers? Oh. Okay fine sure. I disagree with you, but whatever.

Here’s one of the chipmunks doing it:

No. Still not convinced? 

 Okay fine. Stickler. Here’s MICKEY DOING IT.

*GASP* *SHOCK* *HORROR* *OTHER EXPRESSIONS OF DISAPPROVAL*

Mickey! Shame on you. You of all people should know better! You are literally the face of the company! 

Oh yeah. That’s right. It doesn’t matter for you. 

So why do employees have to point that way? Why are they instructed to perpetuate a frankly non-sensical lie that doesn’t benefit anything or anyone? Is entirely f*!@ing POINTless.

 Walt used to smoke.

 Yeah. That’s it. The dude from the roaring 20′s, who founded the company with his cartoon mouse, smoked. 

That’s it.

  It’s a literal global conspiracy (I’ve never been to any of the Disney resorts outside of America, but I assume they also do the two fingered point), but because Disney is SOOO insistent on keeping up their family friendly bullshit, they literally airbrushed hundreds of photos of Walt with a cigarette in his hand so that he no longer looked like he smoked anything Which leads to  hundreds of photos of Walt ‘pointing’ sometimes at nothing, in an absolutely ridiculous gesture.

Like this:

or this:

Mmm. Yes Walt. So natural of you to point at your colleague this way. nothing SUSPICIOUS AT ALL IN THIS PHOTO NOPE.

 Ah yes, the ground. Very integral to this storyboard that I’m detailing for you with my normal regular human pointing, but no the ground, she demands more. She must have the two fingers. It is required. It MUST BE DONE. 

This is apparently still such a thing that Tom Hanks did this in the 2013 film ‘saving Mr. Banks’:

That doesn’t look severely awkward at all. 

 Imagine being such a ridiculous company, that you would go through, HUNDREDS of photos, and AIRBRUSH them. Just so it looked like your founder, again FROM THE ROARING GODDAMN TWENTIES DIDN’T SMOKE.

So ridiculous that would lie to, I dunno, Disneyland employs like 25,000 cast members to operate the park, so at least conservatively 15,000 people a year? (12 parks, assuming ~25000 each to run it, and a 10% turnover rate (average companies have ~18% turnover from my incredibly quick google skimming).

Just because you don’t want to admit to an already established fact?

 And while it’s real weird. Like Really Real Weird for Disney to do something like this. It’s not necessarily harmful. But you know what is? Massacre!

 Let’s Talk About Lemmings!

Now you probably have at some point heard of lemmings, such as the expression ‘Like Lemmings’ meaning: a large silly rush towards a thing.

Do... Do you know where that expression comes from? Because I do.

It comes from Disney. Or at least, it was popularized by Disney. 

There was/is a myth that Lemmings will cast themselves out into the sea.

Like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xMZlr5Gf9yY [time of 1:38 to 2:04].

This, is total horseshit. Lemmings do not do this. Instead, this is what was done.

   The took the lemmings (which are also adorable by the way) tossed them in a modified wheel. Spun the wheel up to disorient them. AND THEN TOSSED THE POOR THINGS OFF A CLIFF! Yup, just mass murdered a bunch of animals to make some money.

Oh also, this was done as part of a nature documentary. Yeah, a documentary where a literal lie was propagated by mass murdering adorable little rodents in support of a myth.

Seriously Disney, what the fuck?

Can’t admit that our founder smoked because “family values,” but mass murder of animal? Yeah no, we’re cool with that. Nothing to see here.

Also speaking of Family values, in the latest moves of Fucking Seriously Disney?

They Sponsored Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay” bill. Because the people in charge at Disney think that ‘the best way to promote social change is through our content not our actions’, and yes, I’m paraphrasing but that’s effectively the statement the leadership gave their employees. Which way to go Disney. Way to actively say your leadership is a bunch of Hypocrites. Preach about change in your content where people see it on display and then actively avoid the change you just preached about where it’s obscured. What a dick move.

Onto the GENOCIDE Disney was apparently cool with despite having family values.

 For those of you who don’t know, the good old Disney corporation decided it would be perfectly fine to film Mulan, right next door (figuratively) to internment camps.

Yes. That is a real thing that happened. Disney paid to film, next to internment camps. In fact the specifically thank the city for their help filming. If you want to read more Disney and the Uighur interment camps you can start herehttps://www.vox.com/culture/2020/9/9/21427978/mulan-disney-controversy-explained-uighurs-xinjiang.

 Socially Disney did actually get in trouble for this one. Thank God. Not that they faced any legal issues, but at least due to protests and general “WOW Disney. That’s incredibly fucked up.” it was a financial loss.

So yeah.

Fuck Disney.

[whatisthiswritingthing]

Piano Man - Part Two - Lindsey Horan x Reader

Sequel to Piano Man 

“Coffee?” Lindsey questioned unnecessarily as she set a steaming cup in front of Y/N the next morning. 

Y/N contained her grimace, she hated coffee. It was bitter, always tasted burnt to her, and in now way appealed to her. She preferred to tea. But if the midfielder was going to make the effort to bring her coffee, she could drink coffee with breakfast.

 “Thank you, Lindsey, I appreciate it,” Y/N thanked her, forcing herself to take a sip, doing her best to keep her expression blank. She quickly took a bite of her eggs to replace the bitter taste in her mouth. 

“I like coffee too Horan!” Rose called out as the blonde sat down at the table next to Y/N. 

“When you become a piano savant, I’ll bring you coffee,” Lindsey threw back, hedging a glance to Y/N next to her, briefly catching what she thought looksd like a scowl on the younger woman’s face. 

“Would you accept dog connoisseur?” The brunette midfielder asked instead.

“Nope, it’s a pretty specific preference to earn you a coffee delivery,” she winked back at her friend, shifting to look at Y/N, this time seeing the look of disgust as she took a sip. The smile quickly dropped from Horans face, Y/N forced a small smile on her face and took another sip of coffee, “you don’t like coffee, do you?”

 “It’s fine,” Y/N made a point of taking another sip, keeping her eyes cast down as she set the cup back on the table. 

Lindsey reached out and placed a hand on her arm resting on the table. The blonde could feel the forearm muscle flex as Y/N tapped her index finger against the table, “you don’t need to finish it Y/N.” 

“No, I appreciate you bringing me coffee Lindsey,” Y/N repeated, lifting her hand to grab her cup again. 

Lindsey tightened her hand on Y/N’s arm, keeping it in place, “that doesn’t mean you need to finish it,” she reassured her gently.

 “Claimed!” Rose leaned across the table, taking the coffee cup for herself. 

Y/N glanced up to see Rose proudly sipping her new coffee and everyone else rolling their eyes at the brunette, she smiled to herself.

 Lindsey loosened her grip, but began to rub her thumb along Y/N’s arm. “What do you prefer instead of coffee?” She asked softly, like it would be a secret between just them. 

“I like tea instead,” Y/N whispered in return, angling her head to look at Lindsey who was watching her. Seeing Lindsey nod along, Y/N began to tap her fingers again, rolling a few of them on the tabletop. Lindsey soothes her thumb over the popping muscle in her forearm at the motion, the tapping slowly stopping. 

“Eww leaf water?” Sonnett crinkled her nose, reaching over and stealing the stolen coffee from Rose who just scowled and let it happen. Y/N blushed and bit her lip. She knew they were teasing her and were working to include her, it was a new feeling, being so readily accepted, being allowed to share her own opinion without being told it was wrong. 

“Better than your jitter juice,” Y/N said softly, resuming tapping on finger on the table, Lindsey tapping her thumb in time to the flexing muscle.

 “Oh she’s got sass!” Rose laughed, attempting to reach and steal the stolen coffee back from Sonnett, only for the blonde to pull it away and out of her reach. The brunette huffed and leaned back in her chair. 

Y/N pulled her hand off the table, beginning to wring her hands together in her lap. Lindsey let her hand follow, resting it gently on the forearm, continuing to tap a thumb. Y/N gave Lindsey a small smile, the small comfort soothing some of her anxiety sitting with the friends. The midfielders smile grew when she saw the younger woman accepting her touch. 

Conversation flowed at the table, everyone encouraging Y/N to join the conversation who added her comments throughout. The tension left her shoulders the more the group spoke, gentle jabs thrown at each other, smiles all around. Lindsey’s hand never left Y/N, only shifting it slightly to rest on her thigh. 

The rest of the team noticed the dramatic shift in Y/N, she was still quiet and reserved, but she smiled more, attempted to initiate conversation with everyone, she all around seemed more at ease with the group.

 When Y/N slipped out of her hotel room that night, Emily walked out with her this time, all pretence of sneaking gone. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw Lindsey standing in the hallway, awkwardly shuffling her feet on the carpet. Lindsey bit her lip, nerves oozing out of her, Y/N had opened up to the group and let them see her play, but she was worried this was overstepping.

“You coming to hang out with me and Beethoven Linessi?” Sonnett shoved Lindsey forward when she saw Y/N freeze and blush. 

“Uh, yea, if that’s alright,” Horan tentatively replied, glancing at the blushing woman. Y/N clasped her hands together and nodded with a small smile. 

Lindsey’s grin grew and she took confident steps forward to walk alongside the pair. 

They walked the rest of the way in silence and all gently sat on the piano bench, Y/N in the middle. Y/N began playing a simple melody, the other two women watching her nimble fingers glide across the keys. 

“Why did you choose soccer and not piano?” Emily asked as Y/N played the last note. 

Y/N’s fingers froze on the keys before she began another song, “I love piano, outside of soccer, it’s the only place I feel completely relaxed. The only place where my thoughts aren’t racing, and my mind feels like it shuts off. But I despised it so much when I was younger, it took me a long time to embrace it as a good thing,” she began playing again.

Both women nodded along, letting her play with no one saying anything.

“Then when I embraced piano, it still felt like it was too much like conforming to what my parents wanted since it was something they had pushed on me. And I wanted it to continue to be something I kept for myself,” Y/N smoothly transitioned between songs without stopping, Horan and Sonnett not saying anything, it was clear this wasn’t something simple to speak about. “I didn’t even tell my parents I was going to England to play soccer, I told them I was going for an internship at the hospital. I was too much of a coward to say it to their faces,” her fingers hesitated while her voice softened and she bit her lip. 

“You did what you needed do for yourself for the first time,” Lindsey rested a hand on her thigh again while Sonnett began to rub a hand up and down her back.  

“I know that now,” Y/N nodded and continued to play, “I’ve had a hard time accepting it, and I’m slowly getting there, I guess.” 

“There’s no time line you need to follow; you get to make mistakes, you get to learn from your experiences, you get to be you,” Horan tightened her hand on the last word, trying to really drive her words in. 

“She’s right kid, there’s nothing wrong with taking your time to figure it all out,” Sonnett added. 

Y/N glanced back and forth between the two women on either side of her. She didn’t make mistakes, that wasn’t an option. Anything she did had to be right the first time, mediocracy wasn’t allowed.  

“I can’t, uhh,” Y/N’s hands stilled on the keys while she tried to gather her words, “thank you,” she said with a firm nod when she couldn’t think of anything more eloquently to say. “I really can’t thank you enough. No one has ever made the effort to try actually get to know me. I’m pretty introverted, so I come off as arrogant or rude. But I’m not, I just struggle to fit in or know what to say.” Y/N bit her lip, pausing to think about what else to say, if there was anything else she should say.

Horan and Sonnett had already put in so much effort to learn about her, had given her the opportunity to explain her past, they had reassured her with both their actions and words that she could be herself here. 

“Hey! You started the concert without us!” Rose called as the rest of the group joined them in the ballroom. They all came over and leaned against the side piano, Kelley stopped and gave her shoulders a squeeze and dipping a wet finger in Sonnetts ear before laughing and skipping away as Sonnett tried to swat at her. 

Y/N felt the heat on the back of her neck, but it didn’t drift to her cheeks or ears this time. She felt like she belonged with this group, they put her at ease, the teasing was never directed at her, but they included her and encouraged her to participate. The easy comradery amongst them made her want to be more open with them, want to participate in the gentle teasing.

“Alright, Mozart, let’s hear it,” Ash prompted, tapping a key as she walked around. 

Y/N began playing another soft song, everyone quickly quieting and listening to the music. 

“Kel, Y/N went to Stanford too,” Sonnett tried to continue to encourage the group to get to know the younger soccer player. 

“I know!” Kelley lit up, “I followed you guys your last two seasons, back-to-back championships, both undefeated seasons, lowest goals against in NCAA history for men’s or women’s.” 

Now Y/N did feel the blush spread immediately to her ears at the significant praise. 

“Fan girl much Kel?” Ashlyn laughed, everyone else staring at the defender. 

“She’s a defender who broke Stanford’s scoring record! That doesn’t happen!” Kelley defended, motioning her hands to the blushing pianist. 

Y/N brought her hands to her lap, heat now spreading to her chest. Lindsey kept a hand on Y/N’s thigh but leaned away, mouth agape, eyes wide in shock.

Everyone else sharing similar expressions, all amazed at the new information. 

“You did that, and you were pre-med?” Ali asked the blushing defender, the first to recover from hearing how skilled she really was. 

“Uh yea,” Y/N stiffly nodded, taping a few random keys on the piano in front of her, “I graduated suma cum lade.” 

“What? That’s unreal!” Kelley exclaimed, “what was your average?”

“4.0,” she glanced at the defender, at the eye roll she followed up, “99%” she mumbled. 

“She looks so real,” Rose whispered while she leaned forward and poked Y/N’s cheek. 

Lindsey swatted the midfielders hand away for Y/N, “dude you’re like a genius.” Kelley just continued to stare at her, mouth wide open. 

“I guess,” Y/N mumbled, continuing to tap the keys, it slowly turning into a melody, “they, my parents, didn’t approve of me playing soccer, so I needed to make sure I didn’t do anything to cause them to stop me playing.”

“So you broke several different soccer records, all while having an unreal average, in an incredibly hard major, at one of the top schools in the country?” Lindsey listed. 

Y/N shrugged and continued to play, “mediocracy wasn’t an option for me.” Everyone continued to stare at her. 

“Can I be you when I grow up?” Rose stared at her with wide eyes.

“You are so hot,” Lindsey said under her breath, or so she thought, all eyes whipping to her instead. Horan now fidgeted with her fingers, her blush matching Y/N’s. Lindsey had undoubtedly been attracted to the younger woman before, but now her attraction grew tenfold, she wanted to know more about this incredible person. 

“How did you end up playing for Arsenal then?” Sonnett shifted the focus back with a smirk, she knew her best friend would figure it out on her own. 

“They offered me a contract, I knew med school wasn’t what I wanted to do, or at least not yet. It sounds immature and trite, but the more life experience I got, the more I had the urge to do the opposite of what my parents wanted. I didn’t declare for the draft here to keep it a secret but fielded a few from overseas.”

“You are incredible Y/N,” everyone was astounded listening to her story and accomplishments, “one more song and let’s get you to bed kiddo.”

Everyone separated and made their way to their rooms, each pausing to give Y/N a quick hug. 

Lindsey trailed behind Emily and Y/N. Y/N was quiet again, unaware of the look Emily kept giving her best friend, trying to encourage her to speak more to the other defender. 

Talk to her Sonnett mouthed over Y/N’s shoulder, slipping behind the hotel door again, blocking Y/N from entering again. 

Y/N turned back to Lindsey; eyebrows creased in confusion at being locked out of her room again. “Did I say something wrong?” Y/N pointed with her thumb over her shoulder. 

“No, that’s because of me,” Lindsey tried not to roll her eyes, but bit her lip as her nerves started to set in. 

“Because of you?” Y/N tilted her head to the side, Horan smiled at the innocent puppy like expression on her face. 

“Yea, me,” Lindsey started more confidently, “Sonny is being an annoyingly good friend and making me talk to you alone.” 

“Did I do something wrong Lindsey?” Y/N was growing nervous now. 

“No, god no. I, um, just wanted to,” her nerves were returning, she had hoped Y/N would be more aware of where this conversation was going to go, “We have the afternoon off tomorrow, would you like get lunch with me?” 

“Yea of course, should we invite the others? I’ve told you guys so much, I want to know more about you guys too.”  

“Umm, we could invite them if you want, but, uhh, I was kind of hoping it could be just the two of us,” Lindsey rubbed her hand on the back of her neck, “like, um, well like a date.” 

Y/N stood up straighter, eyebrows shooting up, “you want to go out with me?” 

Horan nodded more confidently now, “of course I want to go out with you Y/N.” 

“You want to go out with me?” she repeated, pointing at her own chest. 

Lindsey chuckled and stepped into Y/N’s space, tugging the hand down and holding onto it while reaching for the other, soothingly running her thumbs along the knuckles.  “Yes, I want to go out with you Y/N,” she tugged the smaller woman into a hug, holding her tight, “you can so no, I would never force you do anything you don’t want, but I would really like the chance to take you on a date.” Lindsey pulled away with a gentle kiss to the cheek, like she had the night before. 

“I would, uhh, really like that too Lindsey,” she blushed looking at their still connected hands, “to, go on a date with you,” she glanced up, the pair sharing a soft smile. 

At the click of a door, they both looked to see Sonnett standing there giving them a thumbs up.

“Adorable,” Emily pointed to Lindsey, “I expect to be the maid of honour.” 

[uchihacore]

newton’s third law

PAIRING: keishin ukai x reader SUMMARY: every action has an equal and opposite reaction WARNINGS: nsfw, pegging, blowjobs

You frown at your reflection in the tiny rearview mirror, rubbing at the edge of a purple mark peeking out of your shirt collar. You hadn’t noticed it last night, but then again, you hadn’t really noticed much outside of Keishin calling you ‘Princess’ as he sat you in his lap and pressed a vibrator between your legs. And really, can you fault yourself for that?

Lucky for you (or rather for lucky for Keishin), you always carry a tube concealer in your purse, just for these types of situations. You pull out the tube and dab some concealer onto your tender neck, gently patting away the cream until it blends with the rest of your skin.

“Sorry 'bout that,” Keishin says from the passenger seat. You can see him from the corner of your eye, and he’s grinning like an idiot, which makes sense because he is an idiot.

“No, you aren’t,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. You need to get him out of your car before he makes you late for work, or worse, a student sees you with him. You pack the tube away, pulling out your lipgloss as Keishin shrugs unapologetically.

“Nope, not even a little bit. But really,” he says, leaning in closer until you can feel his breath on your ear, “can you blame me? Seeing you all marked up, having to hide my hickeys at school, it’s so hot.”

“Nice to know you’re turning into a caveman, Keishin,” you say. And blush because the heater is on and not because of how close he is, the bruise on your neck tingling, “but not everyone gets the luxury of working for our mommy. Some of us have real jobs.”

(Which, admittedly, is a low blow. Especially considering he coaches the boys’ volleyball team for practically nothing, and gives Karasuno students discounts on like half his inventory.) You purse your lips together to rub in the lipgloss, fighting back an apology.

“And yet, here you are,” Keishin notes, seemingly unruffled. “Hiding my artful love-bites under a layer of makeup. Real job and all.”

“Get lost, Keishin,” you say, rolling your eyes. You toss your lipgloss into your makeup bag and turn to him. “I have classes to teach.”

“Of course you do. Have a good day at work, Princess.” he says, and the ballsy bastard actually kisses you before getting out of your car. You give him your best-unimpressed glare, and his smile widens when he turns and sees your expression before heading into the store.

And okay, yeah, maybe you a part of you is blushing and giggling on the inside like some idiot schoolgirl, but only because you’ve been treated like many things in your lifetime, from bitch to queen to child, but no one had ever made you feel like the Keishin does, like an actual, honest to God, princess.

But the other part is trying to figure out when he got so cocky, and how you’d allowed that to happen. Before you can contemplate further, a group of third-year students passes your car, and you put the car back into drive. Suddenly self-aware of how strange you must look mooning after the Sakanoshita Store guy, of all people.

You ponder it on the walk to your classroom, your sex life, or whatever it’s called, with Keishin Ukai is excellent, you’ll be the first to admit. He’s the first man ever to make your voice hoarse from moaning. But the last thing you want is for him to get a big head over it. He’s annoying enough as it is, thanks.

No, you need to get Keishin back down to Earth, somehow. He needs to be taught a lesson, taken down a peg.

And just like that, it hits you. Throwing a glance at your class, who are all too busy with morning pleasantries to notice, you pull out your phone and do a quick google search, you find the article you’re looking for and skim it. You’ll need to do some after-school shopping, but you’ll gladly sacrifice that cute skirt from H&M for this. You put your phone away and neatly write a line of notes about the kinematics on the chalkboard, drawing a smug little smiley face in the corner. Oh, this is going to be fun.

Your next 'meeting’ (because what the fuck else are you supposed to call it?) with Keishin is on Friday, and today is Tuesday. If you stop at the sex shop tonight and get the supplies, you’ll have two nights to figure them out. Which is essential because the last thing you want is to be unskilled in front of Keishin. He’d never shut up about it.

The school day passes by in a blur. You faintly remember scolding Nishinoya for using Tanaka as a springboard and a brief conversation with Hinata about the ‘epic highs and lows of high school volleyball’. Also, the concept of mitochondrial DNA had been clunking around your headspace for most of the day which was odd because you don’t even teach biology. Still, mostly you were just focused on the tantalizing idea of giving Keishin a taste of his own medicine.

You drive to the sex shop two towns over, as opposed to the one just off the highway, partly because it’s cleaner, but mostly because there’s less of a risk of seeing someone you know. You’d hate to have a student catching you buying a strap-on. Oh, the rumors.

The salesperson is a heavily tattooed girl with electric blue hair and a black heart stamped on each freckled cheekbone. She’s really helpful, though. She takes her time explaining just how all the buckles work, and which dildo to buy to fit into which harness, so do your best not to judge her too harshly. She also recommends buying silicone-based lube over water-based lube, because apparently it lasts longer and isn’t harmful in anal sex the way it is in vaginal sex.

So you give her a five-dollar tip for her troubles, to which she responds by giving you the toothiest smile you’ve seen in your entire life and telling you your boyfriend has no idea how lucky he is.

Which you give her another three dollars for because she’s completely right.

(About Keishin not knowing how lucky he is to have you. Not about him being your boyfriend, because he’s fucking not, okay?)

You bring your goodies home, feeling like you always feel after shopping: like you’ve just gotten a load of Christmas presents, and they’re waiting to be unwrapped. You have the presence of mind to hide the black and red bag in your oversized purse before entering your building. Just in case you happen to share the elevator with one of the old ladies on your floor.

Once you get into your apartment, you lock your door and layout your purchases on your dining room table, immediately picking up the dildo to test its weight. You’d picked a sparkly ribbed one, not because you particularly like it, but because you can’t wait to see Keishin’s face when he saw it. You’re pretty sure it’ll end up somewhere between shock, reproach, and begrudging amusement.

It’s the same abrasive yellow as Keishin’s bleached hair, average-sized, chosen more for entertainment value than anything else. You slot it into place then give the shaft an experimental tug to see just how well the metal ring in the harness holds it in place. Satisfied with the result, you examine the nubby, double-pronged vibrator on the opposite end of the harness. It’s supposed to go inside you when everything’s in place, so you get something out of it while you fuck Keishin senseless.

Though you’re reasonably sure that the very act itself of fucking Keishin senseless would have you curling your toes, you’re not about to deny yourself some extra stimulation.

You test the silicone lube between your fingertips. It feels weird, like the silicone-based face primer you’d used in high school, though this was less powdery and more expensive. You test on the skin above your knee, curious to see how long it takes to dry off.

While you wait, you take all of your clothes off, hanging up your blazer and throwing the rest in the hamper. You examine the harness, it’s an intimidating contraption of black nylon and silvery buckles, but that doesn’t deter you. You’re a high school science teacher, thank you very much. You explain physics to teenagers all day. This is nothing compared to that.

And actually, when you fit it onto your hips, it’s not too bad. A strap goes around each thigh, like a bikini, and one loops around your waist. You tighten the straps and peer down at the yellow, glittery penis now hanging heavily at the apex of your thighs. Huh. So this is what penises are like?

You grip the base and stroke up, grimacing at the sensation of your hand skidding over the rubber. Oh. Lube. Right. You squeeze some lube onto the dildo and start stroking again, much smoother this time. You hate how good the angle is; no wonder guys get so picky about handjobs. You fist it for a few minutes, feeling the vibrator bump against your clit. Which, considering its not even on, has no right to feel that good.

Once you get used to the way the dildo moves within its ring and how to compensate for the way the straps shift on your hips, you take the strap-on off and clean the dildo of lube. The stuff is way better than water-based lube, and you can’t wait to see it in action. You pack the strap-on and the lube back into the bag and leave it in your bedroom. Then you take a seat at your dining room table, pulling out a stack of ungraded papers instead. Time to spend some quality time with Marie Curie.

The next two days are validating, if nothing else. Keishin’s decided to go full little shit and keeps sexting you in the middle of your lectures like you’re supposed to just be able to explain oxygen theory of combustion after receiving a text detailing just how hard his cock is. You’d given him your best glare and sent a lengthy email telling him to fuck off, but to no avail. Plus, yesterday, he showed up at your office hours after practice, covered in sweat, and looking ridiculously hot, “just to say hi.” You won’t let it bother you, though. He’ll get what he deserves soon enough.

By Friday afternoon, you’re a mass of nerves and vindictive anticipation. Keishin’s been shooting you heated smirks all day. At lunch, he purposefully spills a packet soy sauce all over his hand just to seductively lick it off each of his fingers. You think it really speaks to your libido that, under the righteous indignation, you were actually pretty turned on by that. Stupid fucking Keishin, getting you hot and bothered with convenience store dumplings, of all things.

You’re practically vibrating when you open the door to your apartment at seven sharp, tamping down on your anxiety. You give Keishin your most relaxed, most expectant smile, and he responds by giving you that stupid(ly sexy) smirk and thrusting a bottle of cheap wine your way.

“Hey, Princess,” he says, bending down to peck you on the cheek. “How was your week?”

“Um,” you blink at him owlishly, thrown, “fine?”

“Really?” Keishin asks, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind himself. As soon as the lock clicks into place, he’s on you like a starfish, head tucked into your neck. “Because mine’s been torture. All I can think about is how gorgeous you look under me. Over me. Everywhere. God, you drive me nuts.”

You feel something heavy in your chest. You bring your hands up to card through his hair. “I know the feeling.” Because all jokes and exasperation aside, Keishin’s under your skin in a big way, pumping you full of something that tastes like burnt, thick sugar and smells like Valentine’s Day chocolates. You’re drowning in Keishin Ukai, and you fucking love it.

“Do you now?” Keishin stills, then his hands change directions on your back, one scooping down to you ass and the other up into your hair. “And how does it feel, Princess?”

Oh, and there’s the smarmy little imp that’s been harassing you in school. Your lips curl into a devilish smile, out of Keishin’s line of sight, and you lean your weight into his hold. “Oh, I’m not sure I can even explain it, Keishin,” you sigh woefully. “Maybe I should just show you instead.”

“I think I could get behind that,” he agrees, pulling back. “Maybe even literally.” He leers down at you, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Classy, Ukai.” You snort despite yourself. “Remind me why I ever agreed to have sex with you?”

“Is that a request or an invitation?” His hands fall to your hips, thumbs rubbing lazy circles into your hipbones, “I accept both.”

You purse your lips, whether to fight a grin or a scowl, you’re unsure. “Let’s take this to the bedroom,” you suggest. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Keishin grins. “Lead the way.”

You set the wine bottle on the table and lead him by the hand to your room, hips swaying, nerves were forgotten. This is going to be so much fun. You open the door to your room, watching Keishin leap onto the bed. “Close your eyes and take off your clothes,” you order, unbuttoning your blouse. Keishin inhales sharply, eyes falling shut as he peels off his shirts and wiggles free from his pants. He’s already half-hard, boxers just beginning to tent.

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Not yet, no,” you replied, opening the drawer and pulling out your bag of tricks. you slid the strap-on into place, tightening the buckles with confident, practiced accuracy. “I thought we’d try something different today. Just the thought of it has kept me wet all week.”

Keishin twitches in his boxers, fists clenching on the edge of the bed. “Now, I’ve got to know. ”

“Open your eyes.”

Keishin blinks them open, freezing when they land on the dildo. You stroke it slowly, delighting in the way a ruddy blush works up his toned chest.

“Oh,” he says, sounding faintly disappointed. “I thought….”

“You thought you could tease me all week at school and get away with it,” you supply, baring your teeth when he flinches. “Newsflash asshole, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. So, what do you think of my cock, Keishin? I picked it out special, just for you.”

Keishin shudders, bowing his head in supplication. “Tell me what to do,” he says, voice gone hoarse.

“Answer the question.”

“It’s, uh,” Keishin stammers, glancing up at it, “it’s very… pretty?”

“Damn straight, it is,” you growl, striding toward the bed in long, slow steps. “What are you going to do with such a pretty cock, Keishin?” And wow, where is this coming from? You’re just supposed to fuck him and get it over with. This aggression is all-new, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. And, judging by how hard Keishin is, you assume the feeling is mutual.

“Can I suck it?” he asks meekly, eyes pointedly not meeting yours. A total display of submission. You approve. You move to stand in front of him, positioning the cock at his lips, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Keishin groans, reaching out to suck the head into his mouth. He bobs his head, working deeper down your shaft each time. You bite your lip, feeling a hot wave of arousal work down your spine. He’s beautiful like this, cheeks hollowed around the length of yellow, sparkly rubber. Your hand leaves the base to cup the back of his head, and his hand takes its place. He pulls back to suckle at the head, eyes looking up at you heatedly.

Fuck.

“So pretty,” you sigh, hand petting the dark hair on the nape of his neck. “I can see why guys like this so much.” Keishin’s eyes flutter shut, lashes long against his cheekbones. “What do you think, Keishin? Do you like sucking cock?”

Keishin moans, sucking as deep as he can go. When his eyes meet yours again, they’re desperate. His free hand moves to his own cock, pulling it out of the gape of his underwear.

You freeze, pulling his head back by the grip in his hair. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” Keishin shoots you a pleading look, but you’re already pulling out of his mouth, dildo shiny with spit. “Take them off, get on the bed. Hands and knees.”

He stumbles to do your bidding, cock dark red and angry-looking. You pick up the lube from where you’d placed it on the nightstand and kneel behind him. The lube opens with a wet click that makes Keishin jerk in surprise. You spread the lube liberally on your fingers, reaching out to trace one over his hole, teasing. Keishin mewls and pushes back, eagerly. You feel another gush of heat between your legs, pushing the finger in slowly. You work the finger in and out, curling it down to find his prostate. You find it on the fourth try, judging by the way he keens and clenches around you.

The second finger is met with a little resistance, and Keishin takes in a deep breath to relax his muscles. You kiss the small of his back in praise, scissoring the fingers once you’re able. This is a lot more intimate than you’d expected it to be, working Keishin open like this. It fills you with a strange sense of responsibility, you want to do this right, you want to make it good for him.

“Just relax, Keishin,” you whisper, as he whines and clenches around your third finger, “you can do this. We can stop anytime you want.”

Keishin heaves a great, shivering breath, but he relaxes. You work as slowly as you can, pushing against his rim more than thrusting in until he’s loose enough to take you. You squirt more lube onto your fingers, pushing them slowly into him until he takes them all the way to the knuckle. You make sure to graze his prostate every few thrusts, only content when he’s moving back to meet you thrust-for-thrust.

“M'ready,” he whispers, sounding wrecked. You pressed a kiss his hipbone in sympathy. “Want you.”

“Okay,” you say softly, pulling your lube-slick fingers out of him. You lube up your cock quickly, pressing the tip to his rim. “You sure?”

“Do it, Princess,” he says, wriggling his hips, “or I’ll start bringing bananas for lunch.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Idiot.” You hold the cock firmly in one hand, pressing it carefully into him. His breath hitches and stops, and he leans into the intrusion. You press a wet kiss to the back of his neck when the head slides in. “How’s that?” You ask, moving slowly until the base of the dildo is pressed against his ass.

“Gimme a minute,” he manages, shoulders locked with tension. You hold your position, rubbing soothingly over his back and down his flanks. After a minute, he moves, shoulders relaxing. “Go slow, okay?”

You murmur an “okay” and pull out an inch. You move back in, starting a rhythm of tiny thrusts. You only lengthen them when he grows impatient and flails a hand at you. You pull out almost all the way, then shove back in, gasping when the vibrator buzzes to life over your clit.

You begin moving in earnest, grinding into him to feel the vibrator flutter against your clit. God, it felt good. You shift to the right a little, and Keishin moans, all high and whimpery and divine. You move to hit that spot again, grinning when he chokes out another moan. You angle yourself so that all of your thrusts will meet that spot, draping yourself over his back to work a hand on his cock. He’s hard as a rock and dripping pre-cum as he twitches under your touch.

Keishin makes a broken sound and works his hips, thrusting back onto your fake cock and forward into your fist. You feel the world spin around you; this was by far the hottest thing you ever done with anyone.

And you think Keishin might agree because thirty seconds later he starts babbling:“ fuck, I’m gonna cum. Shit, feel so perfect inside me, please, let me cum, tell me I can cum, please. I need you to say yes, please.”

You suck in a breath through your teeth. He wants you to give him permission? Oh, fuck, yes. “Cum for me, Keishin, wanna see you cum around my cock,” you command, voice deeper than you’d ever heard it. Keishin whimpers, and he’s cumming, hips spasming. You watch his hole clench around your cock and feel yet another gush of heat, this one dripping down your thighs. You continue to move inside him until he gasps and pulls away. You pull out slowly, groaning at the way his skin tugs around the length of you.

He flips onto his back as soon as he’s free, fingers racing to undo the buckles of your harness. “You didn’t come.” He huffs, tugging at the straps, “I wanna make you come. Please let me.”

You shove the strap-on away, throwing it half-way across the room. “How do you want me, Keishin?”

Keishin collapses, rubbery, on the bed. “Sit on my face, Princess.”

Fuck. You can do that. You move up until your knees bracket his head and hold yourself over his face. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispers, kissing the dampness from your thighs, working up to your center.

He licks into you delicately, mopping up all of your juices. You’re hypersensitive already and gasp into his teasing touches. Keishin slides his tongue inside you, curling it upwards. You keen, grinding down onto his mouth before you can stop yourself. You move to pull off to apologize, but Keishin holds your hips down, face more blissful than you’ve ever seen it. You run your fingers through his hair, swiveling your hips over his mouth.

“Need you on my clit,” you gasp and Keishin hums (which, okay, wow) and sucks your clit between his lips, sliding two thick fingers into you. He licks and sucks at you, pushing you farther and farther closer to the edge, but it’s the gentle nibble that finally pushes you over it. You scream soundlessly, fingers scrambling for purchase on the bed. His hands keep you from falling off his mouth as he licks you down from your orgasm. When you mewl in discomfort, he presses one last kiss to you clit before pulling away.

You collapse next to him, thighs sore and blissed out.

“Learn your lesson?” you asked him sleepily, eyes closing.

“No wonder none of the boys are failing physics. You’re quite the teacher,” Keishin nods, still panting slightly. “Though, I think you may have to go over it again sometime.”

You laugh and turn to look at him. He’s smiling back at you, eyes soft and happy. The heavy feeling in your chest returns, and you feel like you can’t breathe. You lean in and kiss him, ignoring the way he tastes like you. His own flavor was much sweeter. “I think we can manage that,” you whisper against his glistening lips.

He lazily tangles his hand in yours and brings it up to kiss you knuckles. “Good.”

When you wake the next morning with muscular forearms wrapped around you, you panic for a moment before remembering who it is and relax into Keishin’s embrace.

[goonlalagoon]

A smile in your heart (no better place to start) || Second Star to the Left

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33459862

(Spoilers through to end of ep 10 ahead)

It’s been weeks - months - and Bell’s thought about what they could say, when they’re finally on the ground and face to face with Gwen for the first time. Thank you, that’s a strong contender; they know themselves well enough to know they’re more likely to go with how did you do it? Maybe this time they’ll actually be able to say I love you, though Gwen seems adept at picking it up even when they can’t put the words to it. In their head, they planned for it to be - not dramatic, because they’re supposed to be a fugitive and they don’t want to draw attention, but meaningful. The kind of memory that’s something to think back on with misty eyes and fond words.

Capital-R-Romantic, as Gwen termed it so long ago, that first grudging conversation.

What they actually say is,

“Wow, you really do have a great jawline.”

It’s…admittedly not the worst thing they’ve ever said to someone they have a crush on, but that isn’t exactly the metric Bell wanted to measure this by. They’re standing just feet away from each other, drinking each other in. The silence starts to shade awkward before Gwen swallows, shrugs, gives a shaky smile. Bell remembers a letter, one of the first, remembers reading the clouds are all blurry and the twisting mix of regret and guilty relief, because they didn’t want Gwen to be upset but they couldn’t help but cling onto the fact that she was, that someone was upset on their behalf.

“Well, I never got to see your school graduating photos, so I had no expectations of your jawline, Bell, but hey! It’s a pretty good one too, so congratulations!”

Gods, they’ve missed that laugh.

Someone interrupts them then, of course, because the settler ship has just landed and scout Hartley is very much in demand by everyone, not just Bell. There’s a whole crew of people looking to start a new life, and all of them need their scout to tell them what to do, where to go, what to watch out for. They wave a forlorn goodbye, find a place to sit and idly look around, trying to match this new settlement (very new, scout Summers could probably gauge to the day when these buildings were set up by the wear and tear, even after all this time) to every overheard exploit they’d listened in on over the years.

Gwen had moved the settlement into the trees, combined the natural firebreak with dug trenches to add a layer of defence. There’s a clear track that Bell would bet leads straight to water by the quickest route, an escape path to the coast. They think that perhaps the two of them should put their heads together, figure out emergency bundles for evacuation protocols. Food and water, a spare repair kit for any prosthetics…by the time they find Gwen again, hours of running around helping the settlers - the other settlers - move in, Gigo has a whole list stored. Ideas and checks and suggestions that Bell got halfway through recording before realising that maybe Gwen already thought of all of this and they no longer needed to jot everything down to cram into their four hour window of contact.

They live on the same planet, now. There’s no limit on contact, except that the first several months after settlement are absolute chaos for the scout, and from what Bell recalled hadn’t seemed likely to slow down even before the apocalypse threw everything out the metaphorical window.

Maybe with two of them with scout training it’ll be less…just less. Gwen might be able to get if not the mandated six hours of sleep at least enough to average out more at four or five. They weren’t going to comment on it, but it was easy to tell she hadn’t been getting her full rest anyway - probably hadn’t for months, dark circles under her eyes like permanent bruises.

They’re standing awkward feet away from each other again, and Bell knows there’s going to have to be a conversation about that soon, because it hadn’t really occurred to them before that they know a lot of things about Gwen, years and years of stories and rambling conversations, but there’s things you don’t learn without being in person. Personal space, definitions and comfort thereof, the body language and facial expressions to interpret to know what’s welcomed and what isn’t.

“Hey, so, uh…I know there’s a protocol that I’m supposed to follow when my settlers arrive, and all, but there’s something else I want to do instead.” Bell huffs a laugh, steals a shy glance to see Gwen’s answering smirk.

“Another sworn class tradition to fulfil?”

“Nope! We never talked that far ahead except as jokes. We knew the stats, y’know? But - you told me, the first day, that I should watch the sunrise, that that was something I shouldn’t miss, my first morning. And I don’t…we don’t have that, but I’ve had a long time to find my own wonderfully inspiring views of nature here and I wanted - Bell, you haven’t been on a planet for years and you were with me through everything, but you’ve never seen any of it in real life and I want to show you all of it, and I know where to start.”

Bell thinks about muttering about protocol, for the form of it, for the joke that can be dragged out of it, familiar banter, but they decide not to. It’s no longer their job to care about protocol, and anyway the only reason they cared about the protocol was to keep their scouts safe. Gwen is standing right in front of them, leaning gently against Boots with a casually familiar stance - if they pointed it out, Bell knows she wouldn’t even have thought about it. This is just what Gwen does, when she’s standing about with nothing to do with her hands; rests an elbow companionably atop Boots, one foot hooked around a standing leg and balanced on the toe of her boot.

Gwen is standing right there, safe and alive and happy, so protocol can sort itself, thanks.

(Bell realises they have their own hands in their pockets, their own casual stance, and wonders if Gwen is noticing that too, drinking in all of the unconcious habits that it would never occur to either of them to verbalise. All the little tics and quirks that don’t translate over a FTL comms.)

It’s not a long walk, and it’s more silent than Bell would have guessed, but it’s comfortable. Novel, really, to not have to narrate things aloud because they can just look and see what Gwen is doing, can point at a bird with a dorsal fin and pause to watch it flutter around rather than try to describe it.

They can’t stop stealing glances sideways, catching Gwen more often than not doing the same, both of them collapsing into giggles about it each time. It’s just so surreal, to be walking side by side, after all this time. It feels like a dream, like one of the stories Gwen tells Boots at night - once upon a time, there were two explorers, setting out through the trees…

The light dances on the waves, well below their cliff edge destination. At some point Gwen must have rolled a fallen log over to act as a bench, because it’s too well placed to be natural and there’s a fire-pit dug and lined with careful stones. Close enough to be cosy, but far away from the treeline itself to be safe. The light is dancing on the waves and the grass is drifting in the breeze, a periwinkle blue that Bell is used to seeing in photos if they thought of it at all. Something that had seemed so wonderful and new, when scout Hartley made her first observations, but had drifted into commonplace. A detail that wasn’t worth mentioning any more.

“One day, I’m going to make a boat and go explore that.” Gwen waves grandly at the horizon; she’s leaning her head on Bell’s shoulder, and Bell has decided that they will happily never move again. The two of them can just stay there, forever, Gwen’s head on their shoulder and the soft whisper of waves below. “Once my settlers are…settled, and can be left without supervision for more than a few hours at a time.”

“Already missing the solitude? Mourning all that lovely peace and quiet?”

“What solitude? I had a very efficient scout minder in my ear, I’ll have you know! I didn’t have time to get used to the peace and quiet before beep, time for another check in. Hartley, have you followed the itinary, Hartley, did you maintain a reasonable sleep schedule, Hartley, have you eaten a balanced meal at your officially directed time selected for nutritional optimisation…”

“I’m honestly surprised that you went for reminding me of my remote presence first rather than protesting that Boots was with you the whole time. And I would also like to ask, in the spirit of enquiry, have you done any of those things without my input?” Gwen shakes with barely suppressed laughter and doesn’t bother answering; Bell tries not to join in, because Gwen’s head is still on their shoulder and they’re still determined not to dislodge it until they really have to. “And…hey, I also told you to go watch the sunrise, and you found this instead. I - when did you find this? You never mentioned a little ocean watching viewpoint.”

“I - uh, set it up a few months ago. I didn’t know if it had worked, or if it had all gone wrong, or - and I spent so long pacing around here and wondering what you’d think of the view…”

“Aw, and you say I’m a romantic.”

“With a capital R, yes, you so are. I’m your favourite person, you said so, it was very romantic.”

“That was possibly the least romantic declaration of love that has ever been given. I congratulated you on your jawline, Gwen, I write poetry in my spare time and that was the best I could come up with. I should have just stopped talking - writing, I don’t even have the excuse of not being able to edit it out, the first bit was fine but I kept rambling.”

“It was romantic and I loved it and I have saved all of your letters in three separate back ups to make sure I don’t lose any of them.”

Bell laughs, curls an arm around Gwen’s shoulders as easy as breathing, and lets themselves relax for what feels like the first time in months. A flock of birds takes off from the trees, darting past them over the cliff edge, setting out over the waves. The sun glints off their feathers, the raised fin, a riot of colour catching the light as they watch, leaning against each other, shoulder to shoulder. Gwen is beaming out at it all, and Bell can feel their cheeks creasing to match.

It isn’t a sunrise, but this - this is something close enough, a snapshot of a new world, a new horizon that they get to learn, the first day of a new life.

[darth-mendax]

Mendax and the Wolffe: One-shot Fic

A/N: Yes, I made this a while ago, yes it’s dirty, and yes I did it for my enjoyment. I am sorry for making this.

WARNING: It’s a dirty fic, man. You know what you gotta watch for. Stay safe bois. Also, the clones are being nasty lil boys, especially Wolffe being feral

Word Count: 5k-ish

Pairing: Darth Mendax x Commander Wolffe, OC x Wolffe

Ahsoka, Maul and his new, previously Jedi love Eli, weren’t resting on the random forest planet when evening was approaching. Eli had decided to try and save a few new clones from the wrath of this new Empire born from Sidious. Cody was their first target, and were going to supposedly deliver him to Kenobi. I felt it wasn’t wise to bring Maul on that adventure, but Eli argued against my opinion. Wherever Eli went, Maul followed. Now, I was stuck sitting near a growing campfire and surrounded by a couple clones and their downed ships acting more as shelter. I’d only learned their names when we first got here a few days ago.

The clones were relatively easy to tell apart, thank the Maker. The only blonde there was Rex, formerly Captain of the 501st. He had a blonde buzzcut, a clean shave but stubble was close to growing in, and his legs looked like they could kick her head clean off.

 Next was a brash clone of the 501st named Fives, easy to pick out from the tattoo of the number five on his temple. He had short hair like Rex, only he had black hair, as well and a goatee like beard. He’d been injured badly, but he was healing relatively fast.

 Jesse was next, almost like a child of the 501st group (based on personality). He was playfully flirty to me at times, but overall, was like sunshine after rain. He had a large tattoo of the previous Galactic Republic on his bald head, and a 5 o'clock shadow. Like Fives, he was injured badly but was healing. 

Gregor, one of the few who survived relatively unscathed and a republic commando, was a bit shorter than his brothers. He had longer black hair that was neatly styled, and stubble growing in like Jesse. Rumor had it that his hair was much longer once. He was built like a boulder though, with large shoulders and seeming a bit thicker in build than his other brothers. His gentle nature contrasted his look greatly. 

Kix was probably the most average looking of all the clones, and their medic. Once in cryo after some mystery mission, got rescued by pirates a good while ago, now helping the injured that survived the Order. He had a short sort of haircut with black hair, and friendly brown eyes like the rest of his brothers. Only, his eyes seemed to be able to comfort anyone and managed to speak in the calmest voices possible. 

Echo had a messy sort of story, and his appearance made that possible. His skin was slightly lighter than the deep tan of his brothers, and he had darkened eye sockets, like he was constantly sick (though he was perfectly healthy). Multiple scars could be seen on his head in a particular pattern, and black hair was coming in like the crew cuts of Rex and Fives. He had a handprint on his armor, which made him stand out. He was also practically stuck by Fives’ side at all times, including around the campfire. 

The last one was Wolffe, the one clone I knew before the mess Order 66 had caused. He was very different from his brothers. He had a pink scar going over right eye, and in the eye socket was a white cybernetic eye (it made him almost seem like he was blind on that side). He had short black hair like many of his brothers there, but it looked most similar to Kix. He was probably the tallest, even if it was by little over an inch. He had a stubble shadow, like Jesse and Gregor. Like the wolves on Lothal, he was built to fight and it showed. His biceps were certainly the second largest, outranked by Gregor, and thighs able to crush skulls (if he wanted). Without his top half of armor on and relaxing in his blacks, there was the clear outline of abs on his waist. I wasn’t sure I picked that detail up. He nearly killed me when I first arrived with Maul, Eli, and Ahsoka. My eyes remained focused on the fire in front of me, memories flooding my brain.

It was done, the Order initiated and finished in only what seemed like an hour. My clothes were dirtied by dust and almost ratty. Maul was in his usual sith robe attire, minus the usual cloak that hid away his features. We were sitting at a small table in what was like a casual living room. Eli and Ahsoka were whispering to each other nearby, wiping away a few stray tears. This Order had killed many of their friends, and clones alike. Families were shattered and Sidious was to blame, me and Maul knew that for sure. Ahsoka nodded to Eli, and then walked up to the bridge of the ship. Eli fixed her neutral colored Jedi robes and turned to Maul. 

“Lucky for us, our ship is arriving at the safety rendezvous soon. I’d be wary of a few clones, they may think you’re against them so. . . don’t act too aggressive.” Maul leaned on the heel of his hand and gave an expression similar to someone raising an eyebrow. “Eli my dear, I’m constantly fueled by anger, driven by spite and revenge for years. Being aggressive is my personality.” I didn’t care to speak or include themselves in conversation. I simply hid in the hood of my Sith robe and remained silent. Eli turned to me, “Hey Mendax, there’s one guy who you’ll know once we arrive. Though I’m not sure he’d be the most happy to see you. Not the biggest fan of Sith still.”

“Don’t humor me. I’m not looking to make friends.” 

Eli scoffed, then rolled their eyes. “Alright, fine, sit and brood. But you better not say anything that will make you end up with blaster holes.” I chuckled, then looked Eli in the eye, “If that were to happen, I’d consider it a mercy.” The Jedi turned away and went to join Ahsoka Tano on the bridge. Maul sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I know you’re still hurting, I can sense it. . .”

“I just don’t understand. . . It feels cruel to live. To live in such darkness as overpowering as this. All the death he brought, to us, to the Jedi-”

“I know that’s not the real reason you’re upset, Mendax. . . Savage would want you to live on. He loved you, so dearly.” I was silent, then leaned on Maul’s shoulder. Maul slowly placed a gloved hand on my head. He wasn’t one to regularly give comforting touch, but this. . . this was nice. 

“Things will change now, and we’ll move past Sidious’ plans.”

When we were introduced, almost all the clones had aimed their guns at us. Wolffe seemed a bit hesitant to aim at me though, instead aiming at Maul. A few good sassy remarks were thrown, but we all agreed no more killing was needed. Wolffe still kept a close eye on me as days went on, however.

Jesse’s laughter tore me from my thoughts and into his conversation. All of the clones seemed happy, or amused. I glared at them and asked, “What’s so funny, boys?”

“Oh, nothing Mendax. We’re comparing body count and the comments made about us.” Body count? Was this a sick count of all the enemies killed? Fives made an impression of what sounded like a moan, then said, “Oh Fives, you know just how to please me!”

“No way! There’s no way you can please a woman with as rough as a hand like yours!” Nope, definitely not an enemy body count. 

My face felt a little hot once I’d realized. I guess I should’ve known that soldiers like clones had needs. They weren’t Jedi so sexual acts were more. . . allowed? Wolffe was the only one who wasn’t talking about who fucked the best or how many men or women they spent a night of pleasure with. Feeling a little bothered plus warmed by the fire, I removed the cloak from around my body. 

Fives was the first to try and get Wolffe to join in. “Hey, Wolffe! What’s your body count, hmm? I bet it’s a high one, what with the ‘rugged charm’ I’ve heard some women say about you.”

 Wolffe grunted, taking a drink from a small cup he held in one of his hands. Fives went on, “Grunting is not usually an acceptable answer to a question, Wolffe.” 

“It is now,” Wolffe replied, eyes landing on me as I sat across from him by the firepit. His gaze seemed to soften, and then he went back to staring at the contents in his cup. Fives decided not to push further, but rather turn to me. “And what about you, Mendax? Did the great Sith lord ever get any love?~”

“As much as I admire the Sith and their passions, we never really see many who use passion in a sense that they fight for someone. Most use passion more as ambition, seeking power and their way.”

“I asked if you had a boyfriend once, not your philosophies,” Fives said, rolling his eyes. I scoffed, and glared at him, “No, does that satisfy your curiosity? I had no one. All I had was Maul to oversee my progress and Savage to. . . to make me feel less lonely.”

“Define less lonely. . .” 

Jesse shoved Fives, “Shut up. She’s obviously never had a boyfriend.” Wolffe turned his gaze to me again; I couldn’t tell what emotion was behind his eyes. A few of the brothers muttered to each other, then turned to Wolffe. He caught on to the staring and sneered, “What?”

“So are you going to tell her, or. . .?” Wolffe gave a low growl at Kix. He practically barked at him, “Know your place, soldier. And stop your insane claims.” Kix held his arms up in surrender, and smiled, “Just saying, Commander.” Rex rolled his eyes, then lightly shook his head. Clearly, the captain was getting just as annoyed as Wolffe was at his men. I couldn’t really blame him. Darkness was swallowing the forest around us; Rex added more logs to keep the fire burning. 

“So, what’s the sleeping situation, boys? Since the generals and Maul are gone?” Gregor had asked, his meek voice coming through with the brief silence. Echo wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “I already figured it out for you.” He pointed at one of the ships, the largest one of them all. “That one will hold me, Fives, and Rex,” he said. Echo then pointed to the smaller ship next to it, saying, “That one there will be for you, Jesse, and Kix.” The smallest ship there was a simple cruiser, but good enough for a few people to live on, and it was the one Echo pointed to next. “That ship there is where Wolffe and Mendax will be,” he concluded. Rex started to snicker to himself, and tried to cover it with one of his gloved hands. “Something funny, Captain?” Wolffe asked. Rex replied, “No no, it’s nothing. Just laughing at the arrangements.”

“And why is that?”

“You’ll have a ship alone with Mendax. And I don’t want to ruin the moment for the two virgins.” 

Wolffe growled loudly at Rex’s comment, clenching the cup tightly in his hand. His voice lowered dangerously low, “How about you shut it, Captain? I’m sure you men would hate to see their leader suddenly get a black eye and busted lip.” Rex squinted at Wolffe, “You think your strength could save you there? You believe that you can take on the Captain of the 501st in a fist fight?” 

“Oh, I know it would. My squadron regularly fights in the dirt, so what makes you think this will end with you winning against me.” The two brothers got up and stood in front of each other, Wolffe glaring slightly down at Rex and teeth bared. Rex seemed relatively calm, but a sneer was forming on his features. “How about you prove it, Commander?” Rex challenged. Wolffe stiffened and clenched his fists tight. The two of them raised their fits, ready to fight then and there. Hearing enough banter, I got up and decided to stop the impending fight.

“SILENCE! If you keep bickering, I’ll give you all a good reason to shut up!” The flames of the fire flared, and burned bright for a few moments. Silence followed my shout, besides the cracking of the firewood.

 All the clones looked at me in shock, Jesse’s, Kix’s and Fives’ faces all slowly turned to smiles as they looked at Wolffe. He was staring at me, eyes wide and blinking as if he was processing what had happened. I could only imagine that my eyes changed, a little side effect of being Sith. If I was angry enough, they looked just like Maul’s. Rex sat down next to his men, “Sorry Sir.” I huffed, calming down and rubbing the back of my neck. Wolffe made a rumbly noise in the back of his throat, before stomping off. Gregor called out to him, “Where are you going, Wolffe?!” 

“To relax! And hit the refresher!” The rest of the clones made attempts to bring Wolffe back, but it was in vain. He’d already entered the ship, and disappeared from view. I sat back down by the fire, hearing the clones burst into some sort of shanty, and had their arms around each other’s shoulders. It was touching, to see them still act like family even after everything. It was almost like Order 66 didn’t happen. But it did. 

The moons of the planet were well in the sky, and it’d been nearly an hour since Wolffe went into the ship he and I would supposedly share. The fire was dying, as was the nightly commotion. There was less energy, less blood flowing through the clones’ veins. Growing restless of being quiet while the clones talked amongst themselves, I got up and put my cloak on. I mumbled, “Heading in for the night. . .” before trudging over to the shared ship. I stretched my limbs and back, beginning my walk towards the beds. There were at least five rooms, each one with a decently sized space and bed. Making my way down the hall, I passed by the way leading to the refresher. I paused, hearing that it was still on. “Wolffe must like long hot showers,” I thought to myself. I was about to walk on, when I heard quiet grunting, then what sounded like mumbling. 

“Mendax-” I heard, barely heard over the water running in the refresher. A few curses followed, and I felt a bit of panic. Did he hurt himself? Did he know I was here? I slowly walked through the small locker room, seeing Wolffe’s armor and blacks resting on a bench. Moving past them, I peeked into the refresher room.

 It was a line of refreshers in glass stalls on the opposite wall from the entrance. The floor was tile, leading into the locker room. Only one of the refreshers had their door closed, somewhat clouded up with steam. The amount of steam in the room made the air humid, and I was sure that my hair was starting to puff up with it. There was a towel on a hook nearby said refresher. Moving closer, but out of view, my face heated up as I looked at what was in front of me. 

Wolffe was still in the refresher, but certainly not injured. His eyes were screwed shut, brow furrowed and biting his bottom lip. He was naked of course, water washing over him and moving down his body. Leaning against one of the tile walls of the refresher, one of his arms rested against the wall he leaned against, and his other was in front of him. He had hair on his chest, leading down to a nice trimmed happy trail leading down to his cock, where his hand was a bit. . . busy. He groaned again, his hand wrapped around his cock and moving faster. Wolffe’s head leaned back against the tile, his mouth slightly open now as a soft moan past his lips. He was close, very close.

“Fuck- Mendax~, I want you so bad~. . . Make me feel so good.” Wolffe’s voice was lower by an octave or two, rumbling and lustful. 

I’d be lying if that didn’t cause some sort of feeling between my legs. He was so vulnerable, and definitely not bad to look at. We had had our differences before and were becoming something of friends, but this? It was a little unexpected. 

Scrambling to get away, I made the mistake of kicking his helmet. It made a clatter that echoed through the whole of the locker room. Ashamed that I’d be caught. I hid behind the small wall of lockers in the middle of the changing room. The noise of the refresher being on stopped, and there was silence. Very tense silence. I heard the sound of bare feet walking on the tile, moving to where Wolffe’s armor was. They stopped, and the silence returned. He was behind the lockers, where I was hiding. Suddenly the footsteps sounded like they moved away and out to the hallway. I quietly breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. Slowly, I moved around closer to the refresher room and towards the edge of the locker wall. I peeked around, and looked for Wolffe. He wasn’t there, but his armor was still on the bench. That was odd. . . I turned back and collided with something solid and damp. 

I pulled away and found myself staring into a pair of eyes, one an amber like brown, and the other a pale cybernetic white. I froze, and felt immensely flustered. Wolffe had a towel wrapped low around his hips, the happy trail disappearing under the soft white cloth. A few droplets were still moving down Wolffe’s body, and he felt very warm, even just by being so close to him. His cheeks were reddened, and a blank expression on his face. I gulped, swallowing down my nervousness and composing myself. 

“What are you doing in here?” Wolffe asked, his voice low and rumbly like he was in the refresher. I cleared my throat and crossed my arms, “Was wondering why you were taking so long in the refresher.” Wolffe didn’t seem to buy my reasoning. He leaned down, trapping me with his hands on either side of my head. 

“Really? And you didn’t hear anything?” I shook my head, not bearing to look Wolffe in the eyes. “Liar,” he growled out. He knew, of course he knew. One of his hands grabbed my jaw and forced me to face him. 

“Look at me in the eye.” My eyes moved back to lock on Wolffe’s. His human eye was blown with lust, brown being swallowed by inky, hungry black. I found myself looking at his lips, and the feeling between my legs returned. Wolffe tilted my chin up, “I’ll be honest with you. When you said you’d give us a reason to shut up, my mind went to. ..  less than innocent ideas. And I couldn’t sit with them all when you were right there and looking so . . . delicious.” I let out an exhale through my nose, and dared to ask, “Like what? Hmm?”

Wolffe let out a guttural growl, and the hand holding my chin moved down to my neck. He gave a light squeeze as his lips moved to whisper in my ear. “I want you to shut me up and kiss me until I forget my fucking name. . . I want to swallow all of your moans into my mouth, know the taste of your lips. I want to feel your tongue, and maybe stop your snark for once.” My thighs were twitching with his words; he didn’t even stutter. My hands found their way on his back, and I raked my nails down the muscle. “Would you like that? Would you like to have me?” he asked. I quietly replied, “I’ve never wanted anything more than that right now. . . but I don’t know what to do. . .” 

“Then I’ll show you. . .” Wolffe’s hands found their way to my thighs and he picked me up with ease. He carried me down into the hallway and opened one of the doors leading to a bedroom. I was carried right to the bed, and the door closed behind him. It was doubtful that anyone would come barging in, so there was not much reason to lock it. He was already trying to take off my robes as he carried me, rushed kisses being pressed to my jawline. Wolffe was desperate, and the desire coursing through him was infectious.

His lips crashed against mine once my back hit the bed, and my legs were wrapped around his hips. They were softer than I anticipated, and much more intoxicating than I believed kisses should be. I felt drunk, limp as Wolffe pushed his tongue into my mouth and hands explored under my now messy robes. He made quick work of the top half of my clothing, almost ripped them in the process. Wolffe’s lips moved down to my neck; my head moved to the side so he had better access. A rumbling noise went through his chest like a building growl and  he bit down into the flesh of my neck. He bit hard enough that I whined at the pinching pain. My feeble attempts of squirming were stopped by the weight of Wolffe moving on top of me: one of his thighs between mine, and hands pinning my wrists down. The gesture of biting and leaving dark bruises on my neck was repeated until my neck and collarbones were littered with the marks like a night sky, varying in size and color. Taking his time and kissing back up to my mouth, Wolffe gave me a tender, sweet kiss.

When he pulled away, I felt cold and my lips felt like they were buzzing.  “I’ve wanted to do this for a while, in honesty. . .” Wolffe muttered, eyes looking over my face and his handiwork. His hands cradled my face lightly, like a feather caressing my skin. The innocence and purity of the gesture was lost when his thumb brushed over my lips and lightly tugged my bottom lip down. I opened my mouth and he pushed his thumb in, groaning as it was coated in my saliva. “Such a pretty little mouth,” he mumbled. 

Wolffe pulled his hand away, then moved to pull off my pants. He started breathing heavily once he had a glance at the mess between my legs. “Fuck, you’re soaking,” was what he said. Without another word, he pulled me to the edge of the bed and knelt between my legs. Moving them so they rested on his shoulders, Wolffe began to mark up my thighs just like my neck. The feeling between my legs was starting to become unbearable, and I was aching to be touched. “You know, you could stop teasing and get to the point,” I grumbled. Wolffe responded by a smack on my thigh, looking up at me. The scene in front of me was sinful, and I thought it was all a dream since it seemed too good to be true. 

“You want me to get to the point?” I nodded. 

“Then I won’t stop til you’re begging,” he replied before moving his head down. 

The feeling was heavenly, Wolffe’s tongue working through my folds and up to my clit. My hands found their way into his thick hair, tugging on his short black locks. He groaned at the action, then focused on working my clit. My body was twitching, and my back began to arch off of the bed. “Fuck- Oh Maker- Wolffe~!” were just a few of the words that spilled from my mouth out of pleasure. I tried to push him even closer, digging my heels into his muscular back and my thighs squeezing his head. It was almost embarrassingly fast how close I got in a matter of seconds, and my orgasm came with little warning. The pleasure was white hot, I felt like I was floating and my moans filled the room. Wolffe worked through it, and even a moment after I’d come down from the blissful high. My legs were twitching, and in the pale dim lights that were on in the room, I saw Wolffe look up at me with a smug look and my wetness on his chin. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, and hummed, “My assumption was correct, you do taste delicious.” I sighed and flopped back against the bed to catch my breath. 

“Maker above, that was nice. . .” Wolffe chuckled at my comment.

“It’ll get better.”

“Hm?” I looked down to see Wolffe taking off his towel and his cock ready for attention. He was big, as far as I could tell. Moving himself closer, Wolffe held onto my legs and I felt him nudge my core. “I’ll go slow, ok?” His voice was quiet and gentle again. I pulled him down into a quick kiss, and gave a soft smile. “I know you won’t hurt me,” I said. Wolffe gave a short nod and held onto my waist. He pushed himself in slowly, and his jaw clenched tightly as he did. A struggling groan came from his mouth, and was joined by a weak moan of mine. Once fully in, he was panting and practically laying on top of me. Wolffe was cursing under his breath, resting his forehead against mine. “This feels- mm fuck- way better than I imagined. . . Fuck me, you’re killing me over here,” he managed to rasp out. As if I wasn’t aroused enough, his praise pushed me even further. 

I held his face in my hands, watching as he looked at me with a half-lidded, dazed gaze. “You can move now,” I said. He didn’t move at first, and I was about to tell him again until he interrupted me. 

With a voice lowering a good few octaves, he asked, “You want me to move, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes.” My impatience was getting to me.

Wolffe gave a grin, “Then beg.” 

I could only assume I made a somewhat amusing shocked expression, because Wolffe chuckled. “You heard me, beg for me to move,” he said. I didn’t want to, at first. After all, I was a Sith and he was just a clone. I could’ve overpowered him and take control easily, yet I didn’t. My desire was getting the best of me, and I could barely move from underneath him. So I begged for Wolffe.

“Please- Please move, I need you.”

“Please who? What do you call me, sweetheart?” This was near torture at this point, but I went along.

“Please Sir. . . Please move~.” He smiled again, and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.

“There’s my good girl~.”

 Wolffe moved slowly, but Maker did it feel great. The slow drag of him against my walls was enough to make me start digging my nails into his shoulders. He wasn’t patient though; soon he was sitting up and setting a brutal pace. I was moaning, loud enough to probably end up being heard from the hallway. Wolffe’s brow was furrowed, but the smug grin on his face told me that he was enjoying having power over me. “Moaning like a bitch for me, and I’m the only one who can do that, right?~ Only I can make you moan and desperately beg~.” I tried to growl at him, to try and show that I didn’t like the degradation. My body betrayed me, and I could only moan and try to move in response instead. He was growling and panting, keeping his pace and his gaze staying on me. “Look at you, covered in my marks and bites. Kriffing beautiful and all mine to look at~. All fucking mine~.” Given that biting seemed to be the way he showed his affection, it was no surprise that it came with possessiveness as well. When one of his hands came down to rub my clit, I was already close again.

“Maker- Wolffe, Sir- I’m so fucking close-”

“You close? You wanna make a mess all over my cock? You wanna beg for me to make you finish?” 

All of the pride and dignity I had was long gone by then, and of course I begged. Of course I said, “Yes, please! Please, Sir!” I was glad he was so merciful. He replied, “Now, you can finish.” And I did, shaking and grabbing at the sheets. I heard myself almost yelling, and I’m pretty sure I screamed out Wolffe’s name too. Wolffe’s pace stuttered, and began to get sloppy. Not a few moments later, he finished as well, spilling himself inside of me and throwing his head back in bliss. He made what sounded like a groan, or maybe he was biting back a moan. Either way, we were both very satisfied by the end. 

In a dazed and half awake state, we managed to fix ourselves under the sheets and get comfortable. I found myself clinging to Wolffe’s side, resting my head on his chest as his arm was wrapped around me. His thumb traced small circles into my back. A realization came to me that night; I’d fallen for him. Badly. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then, but I knew I would when the time was right. With fatigue pulling at my eyelids, I curled up next to Wolffe and slept soundly for the first time in a good while. 

Bonus:

The clones were heading to their ships for the night, but they made a decision to just crowd the ship farthest away from Mendax and Wolffe. In a crowded and simple room with bunks, the clones whispered to each other. “I told you it would happen, now pay up!” Fives whisper-yelled to Echo. Echo begrudgingly handed him a few credits, and huffed. Jesse was also passing credits in the dimness. Rex sat up slightly and rubbed his eyes, “Men, what are you doing?” Fives gave a half-hearted laugh, “I’m surprised you slept through it. Wolffe and Mendax just did the deed. I made a bet that they would do it tonight, so now the boys owe me. Well, except you and Gregor.” Fives looked over to Gregor, who was busy hiding his head under his pillow. “I think he’s scarred for life,” Jesse added. Kix interrupted, “Yeah yeah, you won. Now can we sleep?” “They should be done now,” Fives replied. Rex rolled his eyes and went back to sleep. 

“Go to bed, boys.”

“. . . Yes Sir.” 

There was a brief silence, and a moment of peace.

“. . . Should we tell them we heard?”

“No way, Jesse. They’d kill us.”

“. . . What if we told Maul and Eli when they get back, Fives?”

“They’d kill them, well, Maul would.”

Another silence.

“. . . Who do you think started it?”

“GO TO BED, BOYS!”

“Sorry, Rex. . .”

[chaoticbi-cheesecake]

Paper Airplanes and Face Masks (Hournite)

Summary: Beth has Rick over for the night and is determined to get him in a face mask.

Warnings: Mild allusions to abusive gardian.

Category: Fluff

Note: this is my first attempt at fanfiction, please leave your thought about it below:)

Training lasted longer than usual that day. By the time it was over, the sun was already saying goodbye and slowly receded to the west. Pat had tried his best to make the obstacles more difficult in an effort to mirror what he believed was to come in the battles ahead.

The new JSA tried their best to work with and without their abilities, all while trying to work together as a team. It was challenging to say the least, not many of them had much experience working with others.

Curly blonde locks stuck to Courtney's face as she asked Yolanda if she needed to be driven home. The other girl thankfully accepted the offer before running off to grab her things.

Pat, hearing he was now driving Yolanda, went to the next girl who had no mode of transportation.

"Do you need a ride?" He asked Beth who faced away from him, her eyes instead on the boy leaning on the entrance of the building.

"Oh, no thank you." she replied sweetly.

"Okay, just make sure to get home safe." the man instructed, making his voice loud enough for the boy to hear him as well.

Rick turned his head to Pat, giving him a single nod before pushing himself off the wall and walking out toward the road.

"Will do Mr. Dugan." Beth replied brightly before briskly walking in the direction of the boy, goggles slung around her neck, the straps of her backpack gripped in broth her hands.

She found him standing still outside of the building, staring at his path home with a scowl.

He wasn't all that fond of going back to his house, knowing who would be there when he arrived, though with the hourglass he would be able to defend himself if need be. He quickly found himself sinking into his own mind, the multitude of reasons why that was a very bad idea taking over his thoughts.

His dark thought process was interrupted by a hand delicately brushing against his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Beth asked in her sweet, yet concerned voice.

Rick nodded curtly and turned his gaze to the ray of sunshine beside him. Beth wore her wide smile and big doe eyes, wearing him down and making him want to tell her everything.

But he didn't, thinking better of it.

"I'm just getting ready to walk home."

"Me too!" she shook her head eagerly.

He nodded once more, awkwardly, in a gesture of understanding.

The two stood in a thick silence, Beth's hands were now shoved deep in her jean pockets as she contemplated opening her mouth again.

Rick began to walk in the direction of his house when Beth let out a quick, "Do you want to come over to my house?"

The boy stilled wondering if Beth had actually offered.

"I mean, you can if you want to. My parents are working tonight, and tomorrow night, and most nights. They've been doing that a lot recently." she laughed in an attempt to hide her sadness.

"It's getting dark, my uncle won't like me out for so long."

He heard the girl shuffle closer.

"You know, if he tries anything, Pat can always take his robot and exchange some...words," she tried. "Or any of us could suit up and do it. Not just for this, just any time you need."

Rick almost laughed, the image of Beth in her costume coming to his door to threaten his uncle, huge goggles and all, entering his head.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm still not sure that's the best ide-" he stopped himself at the sight of Beth, shoulders slumped, but eyes still bright as ever.

He realized in that moment that she was just like him, lonely and in need of some company.

"Umm...maybe just for tonight." he gave in.

"Yes!" Beth squealed excitedly, hooking her arm through his and turning them in the direction of her house.

As they walked, Beth rattled on about everything from homework to superheroes. Rick had to hold back the smile that threatened to make it's way onto his face at the sound of her enthusiasm.

They made it to Beth's house quite quickly. The girl unlinked their arms and began to rummage through her bag in searched of her keys. Rick wouldn't admit his disappointment at the lack of contact, but he would make note of how he suddenly felt the warmth leave his body when Beth pulled away.

They entered into darkness, no one was home and all the lights were off, Beth haphazardly used her hand to search the wall beside her for the light switch. As she flicked it on, brightness washed over the two. Rick squinted his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light.

"Okay, you can put your stuff here, or you can take it to my room, or just keep it with you. Whatever you want to do." Beth supplied as she began speeding to her kitchen. "Alright, what kind of snacks do you like? We have a bit of everything, sweet, sour, savory. Unless you wanted some dinner, I should have some leftovers from the other day that I could heat up for you." she offered.

"No thanks."

"Are you sure, I have cookies." she called, walking out of the kitchen and holding a clear container filled with some cookies she had caught Rick eyeing the day prior.

This time he couldn't stop his lips from turning upward in a small grin, he nodded his head.

Beth pumped her fist in the air before grabbing Rick's arm and dragging him to her room. She plopped down on her bed opening the container and taking a bite out of the sweet.

"So what do you want to do first?" she questioned, extending the box for Rick to take from. "We can do homework, watch a movie, Chuck has this great karaoke setting-" she gasped. " Ooh, we can do face masks. I was going to do them with Court and Yolanda next weekend but there's no time like the present."

"No."

"What why?"

"Cause I don't want you putting anything on my face."

"But it'll be fun." she tried.

"Nope. Let's just finish the homework and then you can pick a movie." Rick countered.

" How about we finish the homework and then we do face masks."

"Not happening."

"I can help you," she sang "and Chuck knows all the answers."

"Still no." Rick shook his head calmly.

Beth's shoulders slumped but she soon fixed her posture and shrugged. She grabbed her backpack from the side of her bed. She shuffled through it and pulled out her folder full of assignments. She grasped her geometry packet and began working on it. Rick sat down at the foot of the bed, he too got out the homework and began start on the page.

They worked in mostly silence for half an hour, Beth occasionally looking to Chuck for guidance, earning a long and extremely detailed account of every question and answer she asked about. Rick tried his best to focus on the paper in front of him, but he was just plain disinterested in the numbers, letters, and shapes on the page. He instead opted to scribble down the first answers that came to his mind, accuracy be damned, just wanting to finish as soon as possible.

He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to restore the little energy he had before taking out the assignment to no avail. When he looked back to the work, he was surprised to see a paper airplane made out of a sticky note set on top of his work.

He stared at the small plane in front of him before turning his gaze to Beth who was laying on her bed, appearing to be concentrated on the packet on her bed, tapping her pencil on the comforter as she looked over the page.

Rick moved his eyes back to the paper airplane, gingerly unfolding the wings to see in neat handwriting the words,

Face mask plz:)

He snapped his head to the girl who's face was now hidden behind her folder. She peeked her head out shyly only to see Rick rolling his eyes playfully and once again shaking his head no.

Turning his attention back to his homework, Rick wrote down the solutions to three more problems before an airplane landed on his lap.

He haphazardly opened the paper up to read the words,

Please. It'll be really fun. Please.

Before Rick had the chance to reply with a no, yet another airplane cascaded across his field of vision landing just beside his shoe. He leaned to pick it up and undid the neatly folded paper.

Pretty please with cookies on top?

Rick furrowed his brows and turned his body to face to girl, who was now at the foot of the bed, her chin was resting atop the box of cookies from before. Her big eyes and hopeful smile pleaded with him to reconsider.

He caved.

He let his head fall to his chest and pinched the bridge of his nose. He raised one hand and lifted his index finger.

"Once, we do this once."

Beth's entire face lit up as she squealed "Yay!" dashing off her bed she leaned down to give Rick a quick hug before running to get the supplies from her bathroom.

Rick begrudgingly made his way over to the side of her bed and sat down uncomfortably. But if he was being honest, he would do this a thousand times just to see the overjoyed expression that overtook her features at his compliance.

She returned holding a tube in one hand and a brush in another. Rick guessed to brush would be used to apply the mask.

"Okay, you ready?" she asked, popping open the cap and squeezing out a dollop of the mixture onto the brush.

"Why is it green?" Rick interrogated.

"Because it's matcha." Beth said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. At Rick's confused face she explained sweetly, "it's a type of green tea that's really popular to use in face masks."

He nodded cautiously as Beth stepped closer to him. She was directly in front of him as she softly touched the brush to his face. He hissed and pulled back quickly.

"Why is it cold?"

"It's not necessarily that it's cold. It's just that you're hot." Rick's eyebrows shot up. Beth didn't even realize what she had said until he made the gesture. "I didn't mean it like that! Not that you're not, it's just that- ugh, I meant body temperature. The average human body is between 97 and 99 degrees Fahrenheit and this," she held up the face mask tube, "is very much below that temperature." she rambled. "Besides, would you rather this be warm?"

Rick just stayed silent.

Beth gently brushed all around his face, sometimes imploring him to stop scrunching up his face. Rick hated to say it, but it was actually kind of relaxing. There weren't many times where someone tried to take care of him for a change.

"Alrighty, all done." the girl announced, removing the brush from his face and stepping back.

"How long do I have to keep this on for?"

"Until it's completely dry."

"And when is that?"

"Ummm..." Beth searched for an answer. " once it's hard to smile, you should be good to wash it off."

"I don't smile."

"I'm well aware, you can just wait till I take mine off."

She moved over to her mirror and began applying the mask to herself.

"I feel like an idiot." Rick complained.

"You are not, you look super cute!" Beth chided.

"I'm not sure if that's worse."

The boy watched her apply the mask all over her face, he couldn't control the expression of love and adoration that graced his face as he observed her.

He stayed like that for God knows how long until Beth turned to fully face him. He could say with the utmost confidence it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life. Her face was green like his and a wide smile lit up her face.

There was no denying the smitten appearance he held as he gazed at Beth.

He was ripped from his trance when he heard the snap of Beth's phone camera. She smiled cheekily and clasped her hands behind her back.

"Beth." Rick began dangerously. "Don't do it Beth." already knowing she would share the photo.

"Just let me send it to Court and Yolanda." she pleaded.

"No, Beth."

Beth gripped her phone tightly behind her back as her eyes wandered to her open room door. Rick saw the plan forming in her mind and raced to beat her to the door. She ducked under his arm and ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Rick knocked on the door frantically, "Come on, Beth. What's the point?"

"The point is you look adorable and that is not something that should be hidden from the world. And by world I mean the team." she called from behind the door.

"Beth Chapel I will turn this hourglass over right now and take this door off it's hinges." he said in an attempt to sound threatening.

"We both know you won't," Beth stated matter of factly.

"Dammit." Rick grit his teeth knowing she was right.

He heard the door unlock behind him, Beth wore a wide grin. He groaned, knowing he was completely incapable of actually being mad at her.

"Was it at least a good picture?" he asked, defeated.

"You tell me," Beth instructed, handing over her phone to the boy before slipping past him and back to her room.

The screen showed a picture of Rick, covered in a green face mask. But that's not what really got him. Plastered on his face clear as day was a lovestruck expression that could rival that of Beth's favorite rom-coms.

He sighed, accepting his fate. There would for sure be hell to pay the next day. He was certain Courtney and Yolanda would never let him live it down. But at the moment he wasn't to bothered.

"Is it okay if I put on 'The Breakfast Club'?" He heard from the other room. He lowered the phone and walked back to the room, prepared to spend the rest of the night with the adorable being that was Beth Chapel.

The End ♡

Again I will reiterate, this is my first time posting a fanfic so I would really appreciate some positive feedback, or if there was something you saw that you didn't really like please leave it in the comments, politely please. I am but an emotionally fragile egg trying my best. If you want to see more hournite oneshots or headcanons let me know. Thanks

Sincerely, Tessa.

[katgreeves]

a case of the biggest cards (a tua holiday fic)

Cards, muffins on the way, and a slightly tired (tipsy) family that have competitive and snarky written in their bones and running in their veins. A sure fire way for total absolute mayhem on earth. Oh this is gonna be fun. Klaus can't wait."

Or: The Hargreeves make the best of their royal fucking up of the timeline and spend Christmas Eve together at last.

heyyyyyyy @a-fucking-velociraptor it’s me your secret santa for @secret-santa-klaus!! wanted to do a little sibling bonding fic for you and then I went overboard LMAOOO I hope you like it anyways and happy holidays!!! I hope you’re having the best times this season!!

it’s also on ao3 to read for your reading pleasure!! (if you have an ao3 acc by all means lemme know so I can gift it to you on there!)

Fine hands move quickly to practiced motions. Long, nimble fingers sent cards flying as they shuffled around in the deck.

The five of them were all sitting on the floor, wrapped around a worn coffee table and leaning against the sofa and armchairs around them. Assorted pillows strewn about to comfort them, they were slowly going through the 3 bottles of whatever shitty drink they had trusted Diego with getting for the night. One of them was already empty.

Since the whole Dooms-didn’t/Apoca-nope-lypse/The Sparrow Academy timeline fuckery to the highest of degrees, they were all pretty much left in the dust. After a not so great first encounter with the “Sparrows” (none of them had even begun to comprehend the big emo looking elephant in the room, let alone address it to each other) they were promptly kicked our of the Hargreeves mansion. It took a while after that, but eventually they found a flat somewhere in the city for cheap to hide out in. The place wasn’t really cozy, totally not big enough for all of them together, but it was a roof over their heads to keep them safe enough till they could figure how to bring back their own timeline and finally have this behind them once and for all.

If that even existed anymore.

Klaus leered tiredly at the movements. Had it been himself dealing with the deck, he’s sure it would not be nearly as graceful, instead the cards would probably move clumsily with his fidgety hands and scrawny fingers, spewing all over the place. Then again, it might just be the signature “Rumor Charm.” Alli made everything look elegant, it was one of her best skills, one she gained with no powers, no rumors, that she did without even trying. It was just her.

“Allison. Darling sister of mine. While this in no means to rush you at all, I just want you to know that I’ve murdered entire Commision boards in shorter amounts of time that you’re taking right now.”

That, the source of the uncannily on cue quip, was Five. The grouch wasn’t letting up his smartass act up for one bit, even for the goddamn holidays. How predictable.

“First, you’ve only killed one commision board. Second, this is a Christmas Eve party, aka fun night party, aka we are not having discussions of our more colorful histories for one night party, please-”  

“Can we actually start the game? I hear Santa hates it when he's’ trying to do his job and sneak like a ninja or whatever only to see six idiots in a small dingy, dark as shit living room bickering over cards and oh wait- they've been at this since when?”

All eyes focused on whom that voice belonged to, which was Diego. While he was working at defrosting himself of his bitter and snarky facade, it didn’t really help that he was both tired and annoyed as shit at the wait right now.

“Quite a bold accusation that Santa wants to see any of us after all the shit we’ve pulled Di.”

“Even if he did, does he even know how to find us now? You know, technically not existing anymore and all-”

“What did Allison just say guys-”

“Hey Vanny, we’re just-”

“Okay, I think it’s time we get this show on the road shall we?” Allison pointedly interrupted with, brandishing the now shuffled deck of cards to veer the group to their original intentions (She does that a lot nowadays).

“Thank goodness. At the rate that we’re going it’s only a matter of time before we become itty bitty old grannies sitting on porches in rocking chairs.” Vanya crooned, scrunching up her face at the end to emphasize her point.

“Five’s essentially a grandparent already Vanya-”

“Well, he’ll just become a jurassic fossil I gue-”

PWACK

“Five!”

“That-” he gestured to the pen in Vanya’s hand he has just whacked her in the face with (Klaus had admittedly, bursted out a sharp spark of laughter at the sight) “is what happens when you are the only one I tolerate slightly more than average and you use this weakness to lead me to a complete and utter betrayal.”

“Betrayal?”

“You know, we actually promised Luther we’d let him bake in peace this time.”

Indeed, as Allison had oh so clearly reminded them, while the others were engaging in whatever was going on right now, Luther was trying baking some red velvet muffins (“No, don’t look at me like that, this is a totally normal amount of food coloring to put in the batter. They have to be the brightest red guys! Come on, it’s Christmas!”) in the kitchen close by. He was in there a lot nowadays, essentially becoming their new Grace in terms of their meals. He claimed it was a cathartic process for him, and in return they all just enjoyed the free meals.

“Jokes on Luther if he’s dumb enough to actually belive that.”

The last comment earned an eruption of laughs all around the table, a scandalized “Vanny!” here and there. Such was expected from their Vanya, the now youngest of the group (and isn’t that wild? Their entire lives were dictated by nothing else but the fact they were quite the peculiar, unlucky septulets and time travel and fucking Dallas took even that away from them). A complete contrast from the Vanya that was so long ago, sarcasm and laughter were her now weapons of choice as she’d talk and tease non stop about anything with a grin. Honestly, good for her.

With cards now flying across the table, it was time for the real shit. The game was one that Klaus had actually taught them. It was one of the many “souvenirs” that he had brought back from Vietnam. He had learnt it, along with the rest of his squadron from one Private Darren Teow. “T” for short, although the boys called him “Croc” after an embarrassing incident where he was the main star of a disaster march across a riverbank (oh boy was that a wild day).  

His parents had come to the United States back in the early 40’s for a chance of something new, and for their son, a chance of something better, a life of his own that could be so grand.

“And what a real great life this is, isn’t it?” He had said one night, a one in a kind night where the jungles were silent of the noises that shook them all for once and instead was filled with the laughter and cheering of the squadron as days old beer was being passed around like candy. Raising his can in the air, the bitter cynicism in his voice rang clear. “Trying to save my head from blowing up to bits everyday on the floor these fucking jungles. A goddamn blast if I’ve ever seen one. Three cheers for the Land of the Fucking Free-”

It wasn’t played as much as a usual game of poker, but whenever there was a fleeting moment here and there, or nobody had any cigs left to bet after Katz snatched them all (Rule Number 15 of the 173rd: Do not let that All-American face and charm fool you. That man will have your rations in his godly chiseled arms and the palms of his hands before you can even put down a card).

Sometimes, when he and Dave were cooped up in some motel room in Saigon during leave, trying to avoid another Sky Soldier who would try and drag them along for a night on the town,  they’d decide to play it together, just the two of them. And by that it meant Dave would offer to play a round of poker, and Klaus would beg to play this instead for a “fun change of pace, you know?”

“You mean, when you don’t want to eat utter shit at the hands of your awfully gifted beloved and can’t face the fact that you can’t keep a straight face for shit?”

“Be thankful you have a god gifted jawline from Adonis himself, or else I would have busted out of this motel aeons ago.”

“What can I say if I learnt it from the best?”

“Fuck you Kitty Katz.”

“I love you too, starlight.”

“That’s it, you are disqualified for hitting me with that sappy shit. I love you too.”

He smiled, chuckling softly at the memory as his hands reached for the familiar chain of cold steel around his neck, the motion second nature at this point. God, Klaus missed that dork so much.

Teow had called the game Big Two. At the very core of it, spades’ the best, then hearts, then clubs, and last and very least: diamonds. The bigger the better. Except for two. That little fucker gets you far. Put down as many as you can at rapidfire speed. First one to finish their cards in hand is winner winner chicken dinner!

Cards, muffins on the way, and a slightly tired (tipsy) family that have competitive and snarky written in their bones and running in their veins. A sure fire way for total absolute mayhem on earth. Oh this is gonna be fun. Klaus can't wait.

He wishes Ben were here. God knows how much that little shit would be enjoying this right now.

The cards were swiftly dealt. He inspected his hand, as the others were talking about theirs. On top were the first two cards, two threes.

The game carried on as a normal one, duets of cards spilling on the table. And then, a lull as yet again his siblings had started another feud. This time, Diego was convinced Five was cheating somehow. Hell, knowing the little menace, he probably was.

Klaus must have dozed off somewhere, because it was only when a hand slammed into his shoulder that his head whipped back to the table, about to mutter a quick apology to what he expected were a circle of tired faces. Instead, he saw a cacophony of grim expressions. Something was going awry.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Klaus-”

“You know, the last time I checked, I was the Seance around here-”

“Klaus-”

Klaus mocked a gasp, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as he feigned a look of shock on his face. “No! Don’t tell me you all are putting a Lila on me-”

“Five’s on his last card!” they all exclaimed, exasperated by Klaus’ usual antics.

Oh. Well, that's where the problem quickly emerged. Shit.

“Put something! Anything! Don’t let him win!” Allison shrieked.

“How can she? He’s got some damn strong cards there!” Diego added.

They had to be pulling his leg. Already? Things had just started getting good around here. Or you know, Klaus assumes it was before he was lost in wherever the fuck his mind went. But alas, a hesitant glance at the table and indeed, on the stack of cards, were two aces. Goddamn aces. Scouring through his hand, a sigh came over the medium. Those were some goddamn miracle cards.

Again, if only Benjamin was here. Sure, after their last poker fiasco, the little shit would probably decide to just screw him over again cause he had such a fun ride the last time around. But still, it was at least better than nothi-

Wait. Eyes perked up as Klaus saw a lifeline of a card in his hand.

Aces may have been big.

But they weren’t the biggest.

And with that a couple of two’s were places on the table, and Klaus, with a calm, low tone uttered-

“Last card.”

An array of sounds could be heard. Gasps, exasperated groans and sighs echoed across the table as cards were chucked in the middle in a show of surrender. Five glared daggers, as one would at the person who caused their defeat. It didn’t really matter to the medium anymore because-

“Victory is mine, bitches.”

A scoff, then an eyeroll before Five uttered “Beginner’s luck.”

“I’m the one who told you how to play you little shit.”

“Well, then it’s just a stroke of luck then. The game’s all chance anyways.”

“You goddamn pri-”

“Could it kill you all to be a bit quieter?” Luther asks, cutting the action as he finally stepped into the room.

“Lutherino!”

“Big guy finally decided to show up huh?”

“My apologies Razor Boy, didn’t want to give you guys burnt shit now, didn’t I?” he says, placing a pile of whatever he had made on the table, which was met with an applause all around. Oh damn they looked good.

“You guys only love me for cooking, don’t you?”

“Well, now that you’ve said it-”

“Five!” With a whack on his shoulder, Allison chided the former assassin while scooting a bit into Diego, patting the empty space she’d just created for Luther to plop into.

“Think you could come in with a cute little apron, you know, really sell into the chef role you’ve set for yourself here? One with an abundance of frills, preferably.”

“No, absolutely not Klaus. Now pass me the goddamn cards to shuffle before you guys start some shit again.”

“Wow, our Numero Uno now joins in on the gambling fun? Whatever happened to our ever so righteous bro bro?

“Klaus, I worked with Jack Ruby for a year. You don’t wanna know half the things I’ve witnessed.”

And that was it. That was their breaking point. It wasn’t long before the whole room erupted into laughter and wow this is so good.

It isn’t perfect. They all struggled to fit, it was way too chilly for comfort even under assorted layers of tight knit sweaters. Their hearts still panged for what they had already lost and what they were afraid they could still lose.

But, they were all together, and they haven’t been able to say that for so long. So, they could set all those worries and lingering annoyances aside for a bit to just be. Right here, right now, enjoying the warmth and joy of each other’s presence in a way they never thought they’d be so lucky to feel.

Later that night, Klaus resolves that if ever found Teow again, he’d have to thank him.

[pl-panda]

Damienette arranged marriage: part 22

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 part 14 part 15

part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Part 21

Damienette arranged marriage: part 22

NEXT

-------------------------------

“I can assure you me and your father can take care of ourselves.”

“Against normal villains yeah, but what if someone scarier comes. Or a particularly vicious Akuma?”

“What do you want to say sweety?”

“Maman… I want you to join the miraculous team.” Marinette stated and pulled a small box from her bag. 

--------------------------

“Oh sweety.” Sabine took the box and opened it. Inside laid a panjas bracelet with tiger mark in the middle. “You didn’t have to. Your old lady can kick ass without such things.” She smiled and put on the bracelet. A dark pink spirit reassembling a tiger appeared.

“Oh! Hi there. Hi hi. I see I have a new wielder.” Roaar turned to Marinette. “Thank you guardian for choosing me for this. I am sure we will achieve great things together.”

“No problem Roaar. I hope you two will get by great together.” The girl smiled at enthusiastic Kwami.

“Uh… Hi little spirit. My name is Sabine.” Mother spoke, getting Roaar’s attention. 

“Ah. Pleasure to meet you. Hi Hi. I am Roaar, the kwami of power. I can grant you the strength, speed, agility or endurance in battle.”

“Roaar is also very friendly. You told me that you wish to have someone to read books with like the old times but I am always busy. She said she loves adventures. I am sure you will have a perfect time together maman!” Marinette was beaming. She could already see that her mom and the kwami would match each other perfectly. 

“That is indeed very considerate Marinette. Thank you for this gift. I can assure you we will do our best to help you sweety. And kick Chat Noir in the ass the moment I see him.” Sabine smiled overly sweet at the thought. 

-----------------------

The next two months passed without much progress. Police disregarded the evidence whatsoever and all attempts to infiltrate Agreste manor ended with failure. The new heroine Pink Tigress joined the permanent rooster of heroes in Paris. Ladybug offered her father a miraculous too, but he decided that he will leave this stuff to the awesome girls in the house. 

Marinette spent most of her days either with Damian or Chloe. The girl didn’t pester Marinette for a miraculous like she expected and even covered for the young heroine when she needed it. She declared that she will earn her right be hero properly this time. But she was still her sassy self.

Alix indeed shifted sides, but so far she was unable to convince anyone else about Lila’s lies. Any attempt would end up with some Akuma and later the person would not remember what caused it or would eat up Lila’s lies. In the end it seemed that the liar was rooted too deeply to remove her. It didn’t really disheart neither Damian nor Chloe from trying. The two made it their personal mission to at least make Lila fear for her little empire at each step, albeit with little success besides few Akuma attacks. Marinette had no way of persuading them to stop. 

On the bright side of things, Sabine got in contact with Cass. At first the girl was reluctant to trust her newly discovered aunt, but as the relationship progressed the two woman got on the good side. Roaar also helped. Even if the sprite was not visible on camera, she still spoke on the phone and somehow the curious cat made Cass open up just enough for Sabine to make a connection. 

---------------------------------------

With the trip rapidly approaching, Ladybug called the war council. All of the active heroes (and Chloe) gathered in Hotel Grand Paris since it was easier and less risky. They all came in civilian clothes under different excuses. Only Pink Tigress actually used her hero persona to enter. And Chat Noir was not invited.  Nobody wanted him and Tim decided that he had some revelation about the cat. 

“Okay. We can begin.” Tim said as he activated the scrambler. No transmission could now enter or leave the room without his permission. 

“Yes. As you all know soon Damian and I will have to leave for Gotham to finalize some of the… matters.” Marinette started, but her husband interrupted her

“tt. We are formalizing the marriage.” Damian bluntly explained.

The girl blushed, but continued anyway. “Yes. And it will be hard to keep fighting Akumas on the distance and with the time difference.”

“Maybe give someone else the earrings for the time.” Stephanie disregarded the matter. “I mean look at how many heroes there are here. I am sure we can deal with this.”

“Actually, the only two staying will be Ryuko and Viperion.” Sabine quickly dozed off the girl’s hopes.

“What?” Stephanie was surprised by this. 

“Miss Bourgeois...” Damian stopped himself from saying ‘Yellow Menace’. Just because the two worked against common enemy (Lila) didn’t mean they had to like each other. They both rivalized for Marinette’s attention. So far Damian still got most of it, but the girl made sure that Chloe didn’t feel neglected. She always made sure to invite the mayor’s daughter to all group activities and things that weren’t dates. Or at least what she didn’t think would be dates. That was one weird evening. 

“Chloe is going with the class. And I am very sorry Chloe but I am still hesitant to trust you with Miraculous.” Marinette stopped Damian from saying something that would turn the war council into just war.

“No worries Mari-bug. I know I acted utterly ridiculous! and I still must work for the trust. And I have some business in Gotham that I couldn’t really miss.” Chloe grinned maliciously. 

“Do we want to know what is that you seek in the city of crime, miss Bo… Chloe?” Kagami asked. She was still not used to referring to others by their first names. 

“Nope!” The girl stated smugly, popping the ‘P’. 

“Maybe it would be best to look back at Paris right now.” Luka decided to remind them why they were here between humming some songs. 

“Yes! But before the Hawkmoth matter, “ Marinette looked at the older Wayne in the room. “Tim, you said you had something about Chat Noir.”

“Right. Just let me get some coffee first” He stood up but Steph and Damian pulled him down.

“No coffee for you before this is over Drake. Some of us had evening plans.” The glare Damian sent him could only be rivaled by his fathers one, but Tim just shrugged. The boy was either bravest person on earth or just much too tired to care about his health. Given the amount of coffee he drank, it was almost certainly the second one.

“Fine Demon Spawn. Way to ruin the mood.” Red Robin instead displayed the video of fight with Chat d’Amour from various cctv cameras. “One thing bugged me about this one. He was akumatized to go after Mari, but it doesn’t make much sense. What would get him upset?”

“I… Actually I have no idea…” Marinette admitted.

“Oh! I can have few ideas.” Chloe chimed in. “But none are good. The best one is that this leather-clad jerk was just self-pitying himself so much that he attracted Akuma. But the other one is much worse: he actually followed you around and got angry with the fact you were dating Damian. It means he is even more creepy.” At this idea Marinette couldn’t help but notice that Kagami and Damian instinctively grabbed their swords. The fencer now carried a katana around. Her mother was pleased when the girl extended her repertoire and Damian had a sparring partner. Plus both looked less awkward if both brought swords to school. What Mari failed to notice is her mother slipping one hand into the sporting bag she had and pulling a rather large knife. It only got her attention when Sabine started sharpening it while looking about as casually as Chloe when she was applying make-up. She seemed natural.

“Uh… I apreciate the protectiveness, but I think you are scaring someone maman.”

“Don’t worry sweety. I just remembered that I forgot to do this back home.” Mother said casually, trying to calm her daughter. “I asked your aunt to get me one with Cat motif on it.” 

“Maman!”

“ekh.” Damian faux-coughed, getting their attention.

“Right. So what is the real reason Tim?”

“Well, I did some thinking and I came to the conclusion that while both reasons are probable, neither match the timeline.”

“Get to the finish line hon.” Stephanie urged him.

“Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste.” Tim sighted.

“I take it back. Explain.” The dumbfounded expression on Spoiler’s face spoke volumes.

“So first I back-tracked the time of his akumatization. Based on the moment he crashed your party I put it against how long it would take him to get there from each point in town and how long it would take Akuma to get from the spawning zone to him in that location. All times were average and I factored in the uncertainty. But no matter how you look at it, to match with this exact timing he had to start from this circle.” To make it easier to understand, Tim displayed the map of Paris with maked Hotel, the spawning zone as they came to call area from where Akumas supposedly originated (now even smaller than before with Agreste Manor close to the center), and a ring around the hotel. “As you can see, the ring goes directly through College Francoise Dupont. It would make sense if he was actually in the building or at least close. We also already knew that Chat Noir was around the same age as Marinette. This leaves us with three options. He would either need to be home-schooled, attend the college or not go to school at all to be able to be there. That is unless he was skipping school, but it is improbable.”

“And why is that Sherlock?” Chloe interrupted.

“Because it would be too hard for him to skip school enough to stay Chat Noir. I checked his arrival time on other Akuma cases. There is no other school in close enough proximity for him to attend if he didn’t constantly skip classes just to patrol the city or more specifically shadow your class. Take that Queenie!” He raised his hand in the air before resuming his serious tone. “Anyway. Based on this and the fact he was always close to his class I came to conclusion that he was a student at the school. Then I just went through all the male students that weren’t akumatized and compared their confirmed locations with Chat Noir sightings. I admit the Gorrizilla case threw me off track for a moment, but then I noticed that Chat was not present for the most of the case until Adriens head was covered by a helmet. It just so happened that our model just so happened to meet his look alike on that day. Coincidence? I think not!” He screamed.

“That is indeed some revelation…” Kagami started, but Tim shushed her.

“That’s not the end. I believe that Chat Noir is now working with Hawkmoth!”

——————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell  @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25 @tired-butterfly @toodaloo-kangaroo @redscarlet95 @miukiiu @sassakitty @corabeth11

[lettheladylead]

avoid the unhappy ending (ch5)

ships/characters: Goldie, Violet, Lena, Scrooge/Goldie  words (ch5): ~1300 summary: Goldie comes to town to see Scrooge. Instead, she somehow manages to run into literally everyone else. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108943/chapters/66355184

[1 & 2] [3] [4]

Chapter 5 below the cut:

At this point, she was just checking random doors. That door used to be a closet, but hey - maybe it’s a secret room now! Oh, nope. Still a closet.

That door used to be a bathroom! And...still a bathroom.

Eventually she did open one that turned out to be a room. A surprisingly big room, actually. With two pairs of eyes staring right at her.

She didn’t want to talk to more kids. This was getting tiring. Goldie immediately tried to turn around, but the door was suddenly encased in a blue light and it closed magically in front of her.

“Who are you?!”

Goldie turned around to see the taller child floating two feet off the ground and holding a magically glowing hand towards the door. Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t Scrooge have magical children running around his home? He had everything else. This just made sense.

The other little girl was holding some sort of glowing magical talisman. Great. Great, great, great.

“How about a better question...who are you two?”

Lena scowled. “We asked you first!”

“I suppose that’s true.” Goldie shrugged, taking a few steps away from the door to test her current flexibility under this glowing child’s eye. She couldn’t take more than a few steps before feeling a magical heat on her feathers. The heat felt oddly familiar, like she’d fought someone before who used the exact same brand of magic. A hundred years of magical foes didn’t trim the list down very much, but it was something to think about. With that in mind, Goldie decided that fighting these kids wasn’t worth the effort nor the consequences.

“I’m a friend of Scrooge’s.”

Lena looked like she’d calmed down a little at that response, pulling her arm back, but Violet put up a hand threateningly. “Scrooge McDuck has a lot of dangerous friends. What’s your name?”

Goldie moved to slap her hand against her forehead, but quickly stopped and instead pinched the bridge at the top of her beak. “Goldie O’Gilt.”

Violet didn’t seem to recognize the name, but Lena immediately relaxed and landed back down on the floor with a thud.

“You know her?”

“Yeah, she’s Scrooge’s girlfriend. She’s a thief, but Louie says she’s harmless.”

“Harmless?” Goldie scowled. “Just because I don’t want to mess with a bunch of children doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be afraid of me!”

Violet raised an eyebrow and looked up at her sister. “I see what you mean.”

“What!?”

“So what’re you doing here, Goldie?” Lena asked impolitely, not bothering with any sort of title or explanation. “We’re kind of busy getting started on a sleepover.”

Goldie’s eye twitched and she stared down at these two unexpectedly sassy children. “I’m just trying to find Scrooge. Somehow I doubt you two vagabonds could help me out.”

“Like we would even if we could,” Lena said with a smirk, elbowing her sister in the arm. “I think she’s scared of me.”

“Your powers have grown exceptionally more intimidating, so it’s understandable.”

The blonde dragged her hand down the side of her face. “You two are starting to get on my last nerve. You should never mistake pity for fear.”

Violet and Lena glanced at one another and locked eyes, considering their options in case the strange, older woman decided to attack. Webby would return momentarily, and three against one would give them just the right odds they needed.

Lena lifted herself an inch off the ground and her eyes started to glow again and she glared at Goldie, who stared down at her suspiciously for a minute until realization struck. Those eyes, though a different color, were unmistakable.

“I know who you remind me of!” Goldie said suddenly with her pointer finger in the air. “Your powers, your face...are you a De Spell by any chance?”

That did the trick. The shock of the accusation made Lena’s powers all but backfire and she tripped backwards, landing on her butt. Violet stepped back to help lift her back up.

“Are you alright, Lena?”

“I’m fine!” Lena sat up and shook her head angrily. “How did you-?”

“Magica and I had a few run-ins back in the 70’s,” Goldie said with a shrug. “You have her eyes, you know that? You look just like her.”

Violet glared at the older woman and Lena almost felt like curling in on herself, turning her head to look down at her feet sadly. She didn’t say anything and suddenly Goldie felt a weird, unfamiliar sensation. Almost like she’d said something wrong when she knew for a fact she’d only said a simple fact.

Still...the kid looked very unhappy. Clearly Magica was not someone she wanted to be related to.

Goldie sighed deeply and walked closer, crouching down to be more on their level. “Look, the average person wouldn’t notice something like that, alright? I’m sure you’re nothing like Magica. You’re pretty clearly more level headed than her. And not insane.”

She looked away from the girls, who were both staring up at her with their big eyes. “I’m assuming you’re not evil, either. Pink doesn’t seem like she’d be into that.”

Lena and Violet looked at each other, then back up at Goldie again.

“Did you just try to comfort me?”

Goldie rolled her eyes. “Don’t ruin the moment. I just did my one good deed for the year.”

Violet helped Lena stand back up. “If this is what counts as your one good deed, I shudder to imagine what you spend the rest of your time doing.”

“Good.”

Lena crossed her arms over her chest again, feeling more like herself than she did a second before. “Does Webby even know you’re here? Or Scrooge?”

“She does; he’d better not.” Goldie shrugged. “If he does, he’ll face my wrath for making me hunt him down. These little chases are supposed to be fun. Instead I’ve been babysitting brats all afternoon.”

“From what I understand, you and Mr. McDuck are...romantically inclined?” Violet asked with a hand under her beak. “Why not just tell him you’ve arrived so he can greet you properly? You have a cell phone in your pocket.”

Goldie smirked. “Now how would that be any fun?”

“Efficiency is always fun. Proper communication leads to accurately scheduled arrivals and your available time for intimate interaction could increase significantly, likely strengthening your relationship and leading to a healthier outlook of your lives together.” She looked at her sister who was making a disgusted expression. “What’s wrong?”

Lena and Goldie spoke at once. “Gross.”

They both blinked simultaneously and looked at each other. Violet brought a hand up to her beak to contain her chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Goldie scoffed and flipped her ponytail back over her shoulder while Lena blew a raspberry and sank down into the make-shift pillow seat she’d been working on earlier. Neither of them spoke but Violet could sense an odd change in the air.

“When did you speak to Webbigail? She was supposed to be getting us some snacks and it’s taken her longer than expected.”

Goldie shrugged again. “She stopped for a few minutes to bother me. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

“Back with questions for you, I’d bet,” Lena said and pointed behind her. “You’d probably have some great additions for the Mystery Board.”

Her curiosity was not going to get the better of her. “I don’t want to know what that means.” She moved towards the door and cracked it open to look out. No sign of the kid. No sign of anyone. Time to get back to looking for Scrooge.

Without a goodbye, she started through the door.

“Goldie?”

The blonde sighed and squeezed the door frame, turning her head to the side. “Yes?”

“Are you here to steal something?”

Goldie looked back at the girl who spoke and saw a genuinely curious expression under her dyed hair.

She sighed and turned back towards the hallway. “That’s not all I do.”

And she left, shutting the door behind her.

[probably-writing-x]

Admittance pt.9

Guzmán x Reader

Gif is not my own

Requests are closed🤍

Just as Guzmán had promised, you found yourself returning to school with the idea that you’d actually be graduating. They’d make sure you had a strong grade average by the time you had to leave for maternity, and they’d give you extra exams in that time to make up for the finals you’d be missing. It wasn’t perfect or conventional but you’d make it work - which was generally the motto for anything you did recently.

You now found yourself with another weekend off, though this one not running as smoothly as the others. Omar and Ander had been arguing and were now basically not talking to each other as Omar had gone to stay with Rebe for a few days. It had started over Ander getting annoyed at his boyfriend for not keeping up with school work and had spiralled ever since then.

“Still nothing?” Guzmán walks in through to the bedroom where you were sat watching Ander outside through your window.

He’d been out on his balcony for over an hour, phone in his hand like he was waiting to call Omar but still not finding the courage to do so.

“Nope,” You sigh, resting a hand on your bump, “I’m sure he dialled the number at one point but nothing more than that.”

“Shit man, how long will this go on for?”

“Well last time it lasted about a day because Omar realised he’d left his charger here so he had to come back. And as soon as they saw each other they were fine,” You explain as Guzmán flops onto the bed beside you, handing you a drink he’d collected from the kitchen along with your lunch.

“A day?” He raises his brows, “It’s already been three.”

“Exactly,” You sigh, “This is the worst it’s been in a long while. They’ve been fine since the start of the school year, since Ander went into remission.”

Guzmán sighs and takes a forkful of his food, “Come on, eat your food.”

“I swear I’m losing interest in everything,” You sigh, pushing around the pasta on your plate with disinterest.

“Well what do you fancy instead? And don’t say pickles because I can’t stand the smell anymore.”

“It’s cravings, I used to hate them too,” You laugh, “Don’t blame me, blame the baby.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, glancing back to the window, “Oh shit he’s pacing again.”

You felt like nosey neighbours watching your brother like this but it had made for good viewing for you and Guzmán as you watched him. You’d been keeping as updated as you could about the situation but Ander refused to talk about it at all.

“Come on, eat your food,” Guzmán nudges you again, “And I’ll make sure you get some more pickles at the shop if you do.”

You grin at him and take a forkful of the pasta dish he’d made for both of you.

He cocks a brow, “Not so bad is it?”

- - - - - -

It’s later in the day when Ander finally comes back inside, as the sun is setting and he’d moved to instead pace around the garden, and he’s got a face on him like he’s willing to murder a man. He storms straight past where you and Guzmán are sat in the lounge and walks straight upstairs to his room.

“Honey we’re going to have to do something,” Guzmán sighs.

“Honey?” You raise your brows, “We’re using pet names now? Wow, that’s a big step.”

He deadpans at your sarcasm, trying to hide the embarrassment on his cheeks, “It just slipped out, okay? Did you really need to bring it up?”

“Alright, darling,” You wiggle your brows, “But you’re right, I’m going to go and speak to Ander. There’s only so annoyed he can get at a pregnant woman.”

“Oh god good luck,” Guzmán laughs, walking over and kissing you quickly, “Shout if you need help.”

You head upstairs into your brother’s bedroom and find him laying face down on his bed, his phone still by his side. You walk over and lay down on the other side of the bed, your head on the end where his feet were as you stare up at the ceiling. You’d always done this when you were kids and it had stuck ever since then.

“He still hasn’t spoken to me (Y/n),” Ander begins after some time, seeming weak in his words, “It’s been three days.”

“He’ll come around, maybe you should try calling him first. Or going round there.”

He groans and turns over so he’s facing the ceiling too, “But I still agree with what I said. I think he needs to try harder in school, I don’t want him to fail again and not graduate.”

“I get that Ander, and you’re just looking out for him,” You encourage, “But you need to see it from his perspective. For the first time in his life, he’s genuinely happy. He’s got you, and you’re living together. He’s doing well in school, things aren’t so bad with his parents, and it’s like he’s found his chosen family. Maybe he just wants to enjoy that, and not spend every day focused on school.”

“I spoke to him about Malick too, I shouldn’t have brought it up but I was annoyed and I-“ He stops himself and sighs, pushing himself to sit up in the bed.

“Okay, well I don’t think that was a good idea. But it’s not something you can’t work past, when haven’t you two worked past your problems?”

He looks down at his lap and fiddles with the hem of his T-shirt as you wobble a little and manage to sit up too.

“I really thought I’d lost him before he went to New York. I was so sure he wouldn’t come back. This is the first time we’ve argued since then, and I guess I’m just terrified that this will be what pushes him away again.”

“Then I shouldn’t be the one you’re fucking saying that to!” You exclaim and throw a cushion at him, “God, one of us clearly got all of the brains in the family!”

He smiles but it doesn’t fully meet his eyes like it managed to whenever he was looking at Omar, “What should I do?”

“I think I have an idea...”

- - - - - -

“Do you really think it’s a good idea for you to be going to a club (Y/n)?” Guzmán asks once again as you, him and Ander get out of the taxi.

“The vip area is hardly a club, and there’ll barely be anyone there, and I’m not planning on drinking. If it’s bad, I can sit down. Stop being so protective,” You ruffle his hair and head inside, “Do I need to repeat myself again?”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea (Y/n),” Ander slows down as you’re nearing the doors.

“Don’t bail on me now brother,” You shake your head, grabbing his arm as you pull him inside, “Omar’s working the upstairs bar, and his shift finishes in five minutes. Meaning you need to be there to meet him in approximately four minutes. So, get your ass upstairs and follow every step of the plan.”

Guzmán settles a hand on your back as all three of you go to walk upstairs. The bouncer gives you an odd look as he notices your bump but Guzmán gives him a harsh enough glare to mean he won’t question it. There are a few people from your year already scattered around the vip area of the club but your eyes instantly go to Omar as you can see him getting ready to finish his shift.

You watch Ander walk over as Omar gives him that look that tells him he didn’t want to argue here. But instead of arguing, you see him accept your brothers offer to go downstairs and dance in the club just as they had done before, when they’d first properly confirmed that they wanted to be together. You walk over to the window and watch them head downstairs, seeing the bright smile spread onto Ander’s face as soon as he his face to face with Omar.

“I believe my job here is done,” You mumble, watching as Guzmán comes up beside you.

“Does that mean we can go home?” He cocks a brow.

You turn to face him, settling your hands on your swollen belly, “Do I not look fit for a club?”

He chuckles and it creates the creases beside his eyes so distinctively, “Not exactly. I think it’s the bump that really does it.”

You smile, “We can go if you want to. I just thought maybe you’d want to actually spend some time in a club, when was the last time you went to a party?”

“I don’t want to go to parties,” He defends instantly.

“Come on Guzmán. You spend every evening with me, dont you miss just going out and drinking with your friends?”

“Don’t you?”

“That’s different,” You roll your eyes, “I can’t do any of that, you still can.”

“For as long as you can’t, I won’t,” He shrugs, “Is that a problem?”

He reaches out his hands and holds both of yours, lacing your fingers together. There’s only so close you can stand now that your bump was between you but that small contact is just as much.

“It can’t be easy for you Guzmán,” You sigh, “A lot has changed in the past months, I don’t want you to feel like you have nothing left of your old life. You still can do. And it’s not easy to-“

“Everything is easy when it comes to you,” He interjects.

You scoff, trying to hide your blush whilst his eyes were so intently focused on you.

“You’ve given me a purpose (Y/n), that goes beyond being popular or keeping up a reputation. I have a reason to want to be something. And if that means I spend seven nights a week sat at home with you, talking about birthing methods, or watching films about being parents, or falling asleep before ten pm - I don’t care. In fact, I fucking love it!”

You giggle, “You make us sound like such an old couple!”

“Maybe so,” He nods, fighting back his own bright grin, “But I’ll take that any day.”

“Are you sure about that?”

He lifts your hands up and kisses one of them softly, “Lets get out of here.”

- - - - - -

Rightly so, that night you and Guzmán head back home and fall asleep before midnight hits. You’re wearing a T-shirt that you’ve worn for the past three days in a row and he’s snoring before you’re even asleep. The next morning, you wake up as you hear clattering in the kitchen and groan as you try to push yourself out of bed.

“What’s going on?” You sigh, rubbing your eyes to try to wake yourself up.

Ander and Omar look at you with guilty expressions.

“We’ve only just got in,” Ander smirks, “We were going to make some food.”

“You’ve just got home? Ander it’s like seven in the morning!”

Omar laughs, “We got lost and decided to walk home! It sobered us up though so we’re not doing bad.”

“Sober?” You scoff, becoming practically intoxicated yourself by the alcohol fumes coming off them, “Go into the lounge, I’ll make you some breakfast.”

They’re a mess of half-drunk giggles as they stumble with each other back to the couch in the lounge. They’re basically all over each other, a lot more PDA than they would ever be sober. But it warms your heart to see it, no longer fearful of Ander’s foul moods. Somehow, whenever things were fine with Omar, everything seemed to be fine in Anders life.

You go about making them some tea and toast to try to sober them up at least a little bit but when you walk into the lounge, they’re both flat out asleep on the sofa. You set down the food and head back upstairs with your own food to find Guzmán now awake in bed.

“Where did you go?” He frowns, poking open one eye to look at you.

“Ander and Omar just got home, looks like they had a good night,” You chuckle, carrying over the plate of toast and mug of tea.

“You made me breakfast?” Guzmán raises his brows, “What did I do to deserve this?”

You laugh and sit back down onto the bed next to him. His hair is messy from always moving in his sleep, and his eyes are puffy as they always were when he just woke up, and his voice still hasn’t reset back to normal tone, and he’s getting the shadows of stubble from where he was overdue a shave. And in every way it looks like you’re looking at yourselves as a married couple. You didn’t have that young spark that Ander and Omar had because yours and Guzman’s relationship had been built on completely different foundations. But somehow it worked somewhat perfectly for both of you.

He takes a bite of the buttery toast and opens an arm for you to lean into him as you take another piece from the plate.

Maybe he was right to say that you didn’t need the fancy nights out like Omar and Ander had. You didn’t need to be rolling into the house at 6am with enough alcohol in your system to last all day. You’d learnt pretty quickly that you wouldn’t have that for a long time. When your daughter was born, and this pregnancy was over, you wouldn’t have that again then. Instead, you’d be bringing a life into the world. You’d have commitments and responsibilities and the horror of feeling like you were doing everything wrong. At age 18, that seemed terrifying. But somehow manageable if you were doing it together.

“What are you thinking about?” Guzmán asks tiredly, snuggling into you a little like he could close anymore space.

“We’re really boring,” You comment, “But somehow, in a good way.”

“I’ll take that any day,” Guzmán chuckles, kissing your forehead, “And life certainly won’t be boring as soon as this one comes along. It will be far from boring.”

You smile and settle your hand over your bump next to where his rested, “What do you feel like doing today?”

“How about we order in a takeaway, put on some cheesy movies, play some video games, and basically not get out of bed?”

“Ooh you really know how to spoil a girl Guzmán,” You chuckle, “That sounds perfect.”

And somewhere, amongst the chaos of pregnancy and the uncertainty of your future, you were damn thankful for the consequences it had caused. You’d found someone. Someone who’d been so hidden to you in all of the years you’d known him. And in lazy evenings, in too much takeout food, in acting like an old pair - you’d found Guzmán. Whatever the future held for the two of you, it seemed certain that it would be together.

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia - Chapter 76: Return to Normalcy, Hero Boot Camp!

Presenting the next installment of my on-going, nextgen, MHA fic! Earlier chapters can be found here

“U.A. Hero students… think you’re pretty high and mighty, don’t you?  We’ll show you all how weak you really are.”

Koharu tensed as the challenge was issued, even as she realized that the challenger was a teenager, like them, as were the other four she was with.  The challenger was tall for a girl, with reddish-blonde hair, and powerful muscles that matched Kirishima-Bakugo’s build.  Her stance projected utter confidence and maybe a little contempt.  She relaxed slightly.  There wasn’t a guarantee they weren’t a threat, but given that the Rookies weren’t reacting with alarm, she guessed that this wasn’t a sneak attack or anything serious.

Behind the tall girl were four more, two girls, two boys.  There was a slim, dark haired girl with an extra set of eyes above her normal set, and another set below, near her nose, all of them solid red.  It looked like she had some kind of black projections coming out of her back, just barely visible, like seeing the Iida twins and their Jetpack pipes from the front.  There was something about her that set off a deep, primal panic that Koharu couldn’t place or understand.  She looked, if anything, kind of embarrassed at the other girl’s threat.

The other girl had long, dark hair with a streak of white, which mostly fell on the left side of her face. Koharu couldn’t be positive, but she looked foreign.  She had her arms crossed and her eyes swept back forth over the U.A. students and their teachers.  Her expression suggested she was judging them.  It also suggested that whatever criteria she was using, they weren’t measuring up.  

The first of the boys was athletic, with a mane of purple hair, and cat-like features.  She wasn’t the world’s greatest judge of what counted for attractive in guys (except for the near-universal agreement that Daisuke Shoji was incredibly attractive), but she’d use the word “pretty” to describe him instead.  He looked bored, as though he was expecting what was happening, but didn’t particularly care about the outcome one way or the other.    

And last of them was a practical giant, though not as tall as the actual giant in Class 1-B, with muscles clearly visible against the tight fabric of the t-shirt he was wearing.  If not for a bit of youthfulness to his facial features, she would have guessed he was an adult.  He had dark hair, slightly long.  Of all of them, he looked the most upset by the goings on, as though he wanted to object, but had been silenced.  

There was a long, tense moment of silence before the dam broke.

“Shinji!” Shinso called out, happiness radiating from every syllable.

“Babe!” Mineta yelled. She sounded… genuinely affectionate? Was that a thing she did?  She’d been more flirty than anything in the time Koharu had known her, but she also vaguely recalled some mentions of a “giant boyfriend.”  Was this him?

“Good to see you Shinji, though I confess, this is a surprise,” Todoroki said, as calm as ever.

“Sonnuva… What’re you doing here, Windbag?” Kirhsima-Bakugo growled, taking a step forward.  “You know this wannabe?”

The tall boy just looked confused and uncomfortable with the bombardment of questions, though he did also look happy to see Mineta.  Definitely the “giant boyfriend” then.

“You!” Aoyama snapped. The French (Was he actually French? Or did he just speak it?  Koharu was pretty sure she remembered hearing, ages ago, that Can’t Stop Twinkling had adopted.) He pointed at the cat-like boy. “Quoi?  How are you here!?”

“Miss me, glowstick?” the cat-boy asked, teasingly.  “Told you I’d be seeing you again.”  There was definitely a story here she was missing.  

“And some other people!” Kaminari shouted.

There was a brief pause as everyone turned to look at her.

“What?” Kaminari asked, shrugging, the motion copied by her Cords. “I didn’t want to be left out.”

“And this is who you’re into, Monoma?” the 1-B girl with the crab-shaped pigtails asked.

Aizawa sighed in annoyance. “These are students from Shiketsu High,” he began.  “As part of an inter-school cooperation program spearheaded by the Hero Public Safety Commission, we’ve been asked to incorporate students from outside our school into the training camp.”  His irritation practically dripped from his voice.  

Shiketsu?  It was the second most prominent Hero school in Japan, though some would contest that.  It had produced Heroes like Gale Force, Glamour, and Hairbag, among many others. It was renowned for its stricter standard of discipline, as well as its eternal rivalry with U.A.  Koharu had even thought about applying there, but being on the other side of the country, it just hadn’t been a feasible option, even with its own dorm system.  

“We’re here to show you all that Shiketsu is second to no one,” the girl who’d issued the challenge said, clearly growing impatient with all the banter.  Her aggressive posture hadn’t changed one bit.  She moved towards Kirishima-Bakugo.  For a moment, Koharu could swear she saw her skin shifting slightly. “You want to take those ‘wannabe’ words back?”

Kirishima-Bakugo tensed, one foot sliding back and her arms coming up in a fighting stance.  She really was built like a small tank, Koharu realized.  She was fit, she knew, but the explosive girl looked like she could break her in half and wouldn’t even need her Quirk to do it.  

“Katsumi…” Midoriya began. He started to take a step forward, starting to reach out.

“Tatsuma…” the Shiketsu giant, the one the others had called “Shinji” said.  “We’re guests!  Don’t dishonor Shiketsu with squabbling like this!”

“Best to let her get it out of her system now,” the purple-haired cat-boy said, covering a bored yawn.

“Stay out of it, Toshi,” Kirishima-Bakugo growled.  “This is between her and me.”

“This is a matter of honor, Yoarashi,” Tatsuma said.  “I’m proving their reputation is undeserved.”

There was a long, tense moment again. It was the feeling you got when two cats were staring each other down before one or the other started smacking the other.  

“Nope,” Ground Zero said. His eyes were narrowing sharply.  “Not happening.  Either of you.  My first act as teacher isn’t going to be breaking up a fight.  Especially with my own damn kid.”

“He’s right,” Ravenous, one of the Rookies, said.  He’d manifested a few of his Bing Bing Balls, which were now floating around him. “This is a training camp, for you all to get better.  Not to take out your petty grudges with each other.”

“So no unsanctioned fighting,” Lady Luminous added.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunities to get that aggression out,” Boost Rush, one of the other Rookies added.  He looked over at Ground Zero.  “Though I’m not surprised one of yours started it.”

Vanish Veil, also known as Mahoro Shimano, shot Ground Zero a look.  “She gets that from you, Blasty.”

Ground Zero gave her a look, then looked heavenward in frustration.  “Trust me, I know.”

“If we’re all done?” Aizawa said.  His eyes flashed red and his hair started to stand up.  Koharu didn’t feel anything as his gaze swept the crowd, since her Quirk as a Mutant-type, but many of the rest let out small squawks of surprise. Kirishima-Bakugo and Tatsuma stared each other down for a moment longer, but let their aggressive postures drop.

“This isn’t over,” Tatsuma said.

“You’re damn right it isn’t,” Kirishima-Bakugo shot back.  

Vanish Veil gave Aizawa a small nod of thanks before proceeding.  She pointed to one of the buildings.  “Boys’ barracks are there, girls’ barracks to the right.  We’ll give you twenty minutes to get your stuff stashed, use the toilet, and get settled in.”   She looked over the students. “Most of you will get to pick your own bed, but we have special spots marked for Aoyama, Fukui, and Bondo.   Kocho, Koumori, and Tsuchikawa, you’ll also be happy to know we’re prepared to accommodate your dietary needs.”  

Koharu looked over and gave Koumori, the bat-like member of 1-B, a wave.  Outside of her new classmates, he was the only other Hero Course student she knew.  Being that his Quirk made him like a fruit bat, she and he often got the same food from the same section of the cafeteria.  Judging by how Vanish Veil had said it when she’d looked at him, she assumed Tsuchikawa was the cat-boy.  Maybe he was an obligate carnivore, like a real cat?

Aoyama, she understood, needed darkness when he slept.  Fukui was the giant, and Bondo the slime girl.  Not surprising they’d need special beds.  The Rookies really had thought of everything.

“Right, back in twenty, everybody!” Super-Ball said, clapping his hands. They made a rubbery, boing sound. “And then your training camp experience begins!”

***

There was another one of the Rookies waiting for them inside the barracks.  He was of average height and built, with light brown hair, and wearing a costume in green, white, and black.  It looked a good bit like some of Deku’s older costumes, Isamu realized. He knew Deku was an inspiration to an entire country and even some other parts of the world, but this seemed more than a little blatant.  

“Uncle Katsuma!” Midoriya called out, beaming at the Hero.  

The Rookie smiled. “Good to see you too, Toshi.”  He turned to the crowd of students at large. “For those who don’t know me, I’m the Metabolic Hero: Bioshock.  I’d also like to apologize for anything my sister said or did out there.  Mahoro is a bit… of an acquired taste.”

Bioshock gestured around to the beds.  “Go ahead and find yourself a spot.”  He gestured to a spot in the middle, to a bed that was more than twice the size of the others.  “Fukui, that one’s yours.”  He then gestured to what looked like a capsule.  “Aoyama, that one’s yours.  I’ll show you how to open it.  Once it’s sealed, it’ll be completely light proof.”

“Merci,” Aoyama said.  Isamua knew he lived under certain limitations because of his Quirk constantly absorbing light and needing to either avoid it or discharge it regularly in order to function at least somewhat normally.  He rarely seemed to let it get him down, which was, frankly, astonishing.  

“Oh!  Oh!  Take the one next to me, Shinji!”  Shinso insisted to Yoarashi.

The larger Shiketsu boy just laughed at that. He had to be at least as tall as Shoji and nearly as powerfully built too.  He seemed vaguely familiar too.  Hadn’t he seen Yoarashi congratulating Mineta after the Sports Festival? And he was pretty sure he’d heard the horned girl mention “Shinji” more than once. “How could I resist such a request?!”

With that, the members of 1-A, 1-B, and the two Shiketsu kids got to work getting settled at their beds, stashing their suitcases and supplies underneath.   Unsurprisingly, the 1-A kids and 1-B kids were mostly grouping together. Isamu ended up with Midoriya on one side and Shinso on the other, with Yoarashi on Shinso’s other side.

“So how do you know Bioshock?” Isamu asked Midoriya.  “Not that I’m surprised.  Kind of seems like you know pretty much everybody in the Hero community.”

Midoriya smiled. “Maybe not all of them, but Uncle Katsuma and his sister are kids Dad rescued when he was still in school. Kind of like Aunt Eri and Uncle Kota, actually.”

Isamu gave him an incredulous look.  “Exactly how many children did your dad rescue while he was still a student?”

Midoriya looked a little flustered at that.  “Ah… hang on, I’m going to need to count…”

“Forget I asked.”

Before Midoriya could say anything else, the green-haired boy tensed suddenly.  Isamu followed his gaze across the room, to where Sero, Sato, Iida, and Aoyama’s beds were.  The Shiketsu cat-boy, Tsuchikawa, had claimed another bed near them and Aoyama was shooting him dirty looks.  

“Tsuchikawa…” Midoriya said, “I wonder if he’s related to Pixie-Bob?”

“He is!” Yoarashi volunteered.  “She adopted him at a young age!”

“Should we be worried about him and Aoyama?” Isamu asked.  “It kind of sounds like they’ve got history?”

Yoarashi shook his head. “I don’t think so?  I know Kaz ran into him shortly before we went to U.A., but I don’t know what happened beyond that.”

“Hmm,” Midoriya said, watching the interaction carefully.  

Isamu turned to watch too. It was Sero who spoke first.  The pink-skinned boy was grinning smugly.

“So,” Sero said, “how’d you get Aoyama so riled up? Usually you have to be super-annoying for that to happen.  I mean, I’m super-annoying and I’m usually only second place in that competition. Mineta’s got me way beat in that category.  But I don’t even know you and I think you’re even beating her.”

“You’re about to take first if you don’t shut up,” Aoyama snapped.  His glow strobed as he grew more agitated.  “And don’t encourage him.  He’s infuriating enough without your help.”

“We should be welcoming to our fellow campers,” Iida said.  “It is only proper!”

“Bro, don’t start a fight already…” Sato started, a palm over his face.

“I do appreciate that, handsome,” Tsuchikawa  said with a wink to Iida. “My name’s Kazuchika Tsuchikawa, and to answer your question, Pinky,” he said the nickname with what sounded like flirty endearment, “I merely expressed my belief that I have a superior sense of style to Glowstick here.”

Sero sucked in a sharp breath.  “You questioned his fashion sense?  That takes guts, man.  Real guts.”

“As if you have any,” Aoyama said to Sero.  “You dress on purpose as though you got dressed in the dark.”

“Thank you,” Sero said, mock-bowing.  He turned his attention back to Tsuchikawa.  “Go back to the part where you said ‘Pinky’ like that.”

“Ahem,” Iida cleared his throat.  

Sero let out a yelp. “Right, sorry, don’t do that.  I’m taken.  Happily taken.  By Tensei. Who’s standing right here.  My boyfriend.  Who you have already noticed is very handsome.”

Iida, however, powered through all of it with incredible self-control.  Either he hadn't noticed he was being flirted with, or he didn’t care. “I am Tensei Iida,” he said.  “You have apparently already met Aoyama.”

“Kenta Sato,” Sato volunteered.  “Nice to meet you.”

“And I’m Takuma Sero,” Sero added.  “Webshow star?  With Kenta and Kimiko?  I assume you’ve heard of me.”

“You’re together? Well that’s mildly depressing,” Tsuchikawa said with a sigh and a shrug. He looked at Aoyama. “Random happenstance. I knew of him, but couldn’t help playing coy that we’d be meeting again here.”   He thought for a moment, then frowned a bit at Sero’s question. “Sorry, Pin-er, Sero, but I have not. What do you do on it?”

“Well, my buddy Kenta here eats stuff, that’s his Quirk, so we’ve got him eating all kinds of weird stuff, and Kimiko has this whole gossip show, and I mostly do stunts like swinging off of stuff, or narrating other stuff that I film.  I’m good off camera commentary, which is a shame, because this face, this face was meant to be seen.”

“You are very aesthetically pleasing,” Iida agreed.  It sounded like there may have been just a hint of possessiveness in his voice.  

Aoyama shook his head. “That’s it, I’m ignoring all of you.”

“Fine by me,” Sero said. “We’ve reached our quota of gay or bi pretty boys here already and Kenta’s our token straight.  Somebody’s got to leave and I’d vote for you or Monoma anyway.”

Tsuchikawa’s ears seemed to twitch a bit. “Gossip? Hmm, I may have to make it a point to start watching.” He gave a slight smile at Sero, but nothing more, seeming to respecting Iida’s discomfort. “Oh Glowboy, you and I both know you won’t be able to stay out of matters for long.” He gave Aoyama a wink before looking back to Sero. “I consider myself more pansexual than anything else. The human race is so fascinating. There’s so many kinds of beauty to be found.”

Sero laughed at that. “You sound like Mineta.  She’s always saying she doesn’t want to limit her options.”

“Mineta?” Tsuchikawa asked. “Oooh, you must mean Shinji’s sweetheart. The stunning girl with the horns? Oh he’s all a flutter over her. I’ve never seen him so smitten. Even when we were dating. I’m a tad envious.” His tone sounded nostalgic, though there was no bitterness when he confesses his envy.

Fortunately, any agitation between them seemed to break up, as Aoyama made good on his promise to ignore them, instead calling Bioshock over to him to show him how the sleeping pod worked.  Midoriya let out a sigh.  “Crisis averted,” he said.

“Think it’s any crazier on the girl’s side?” Isamu asked.

Midoriya shook his head. “I sure hope not, but knowing Katsumi…”

***

As they were putting their things away under the supervision of another princess-themed Hero, this one with flowers growing from her hair and who had introduced herself as Petal Princess, Koharu heard Ojiro and Kaminari talking.  

“So, Kaminari, about you and Monoma,” Ojiro began.

“Shut up,” Kaminari snapped.

“Are you two dating?”

“I said shut up!”

“Are you sweethearts? Is this a secret love?  Because you’re going to have to be way more discreet than that…”

“Ooooh!”  Anime Fukidashi, the girl who looked like something out of an old cartoon, joined in the conversation.  “This is just like My Boyfriend is My Rival!”

Kaminari was just getting madder.  “I can’t believe you don’t shut up!”

“Hey!  Leave Chi alone,” Mineta called out.  “Let her boink Shiro on her own time!”

“Mika,” Kaminari said, growing increasingly red.  “You. Are.  Not.  Helping!”

Koharu looked over at Tokoyami.  “Are they always like this?”

The bird-headed girl pressed a finger to the side of her beak.  “The Monoma angle is new, but otherwise, yes.”

Kana Tetsutetsu, the red-haired and shark-toothed Class Representative of 1-B, nodded her agreement. There was something about her that reminded Koharu of Kirhsima-Bakugo, though other than both being muscular young women, the two didn’t really look anything alike.  “Fukidashi has a… questionable relationship with the separation of fiction and reality, but she’s basically harmless.”

Were all Hero students a little bit weird?  Koharu was starting to wonder.  Haimawari and Midoriya seemed pretty harmless, though they were both fanboys.  And even though Sato was more normal than Sero and Ojiro, he still let himself get swept up into their antics.  But she was a little weird herself, she supposed.  You had to be, to want to throw yourself into danger, when other people would run away.  

On the plus side, at least Kirishima-Bakuago and the Shiketsu girl, Tatsuma, weren’t trying to start another fight.  They’d very deliberately chosen beds that were as far from each other as possible, though they were occasionally shooting each other looks which suggested things were far from over.  But right now the message seemed to be, “I don’t feel like fighting you now.  But if we did fight, I’d win.”

Koharu wasn’t particularly sure who she’d put money on in that fight.  Especially since she didn’t know the Shiketsu girl’s Quirk.  

Nor did she know the Quirk of the girl with the extra-eyes and the black spikes on her back.  But something about her definitely set Koharu’s instincts on edge.  She spotted her across the room and watched as the spikes extended into long, spider-like limbs that she stretched out for a moment, before retracting them back into her body and joining the foreign Shiketsu girl to head outside.

Oh.

That explained that then. The primal reaction of one animal-based Quirk to another, the moth and the spider.  That happened sometimes and was usually a little embarrassing for all parties involved.  She didn’t have a reaction like that to Tokoyami, of course, even with the other girl’s bird head, but Tokoyami was so kind and thoughtful, it was practically disarming.  And Tokoyami’s   Quirk wasn’t actually anything bird-like.  Maybe she could try and befriend the spider-girl, or at least talk to her to dispel some of the awkwardness.  None of the other Shiketsu kids seemed as stand-offish as the one who had picked the fight with Kirishima-Bakugo.

“What do you think about the Shiketsu students?” Tokoyami asked Tetsutetsu.

“I think we’re going to have to break up at least one fight,” Tetsutetsu said.  “And also probably keep Monoma from doing something stupid and antagonizing someone from your class.  He actually seems a little less high strung lately, but competition brings out the worst in him.”

Tokoyami nodded.  “I fear you are right.  But I believe Toshi and Awase shall do what they can do keep the boys in line.”

“And we’ll do the same for the girls,” Tetsutetsu agreed.   She looked around the room.  It looked like most of the girls had gotten settled.  “Okay, ladies!  Five more minutes, then everybody outside!”

“You’ve got it, Mom!” Kitiara Kaniyashiki, the girl with the crab-shaped pigtails, called out, saluting smartly.

“Stop calling me that!”

***

Koharu’s wings beat heavily, speeding her through the air.  Just a little behind her, if the senses she was getting through her antennae were correct, was Hizashi Koumori, the white-furred, bat-like member of 1-B. Unlike her, his wings were on his arms, making use of entirely different muscle groups to fly.  

“You’re going to have to do better than that, Koumori!” she called out, as she sped through one of the floating rings.  He actually had the speed advantage on her, with more muscle power to devote to flight. But she was a lot more maneuverable, something that had helped her keep the lead.  He was at a disadvantage too; he couldn’t use his sonar without stunning her.

“You’re, like, being a total bummer, Kocho!” Koumori shot back.  “We don’t all have pretty little wings!”

“Oh, you think I’m pretty?” she laughed.   She pinned her wings against her body, going into a steep dive to make it through the next ring, before flaring them out to stop herself and pull up.  

Again and again, she flew through ring after ring, darting this way and that, climbing and diving. Finally, as she came upon the last of them, a white-blur zipped past her.  Koumori, in a last burst of speed, pulled ahead of her.  

With his speed, though, came a lack of control, and he smacked into the ground.  He lay there for a moment, before he brought a hand up in a thumb’s up.  “I’m okay!”

With a flutter of her wings, Koharu landed beside him and helped him to his feet.  He was heavier than he looked.  “You’ve really got to work on your brakes,” she said.

He gave her a fang-filled smile.  “Yeah, I guess.  It’s just, like, so totally hard, you know.  Flying’s the easy part.”

“Good work, both of you,” Boost Rush said, the blue and red of his uniform standing out brightly in the sun.  He made an adjustment to the device in his hands and the floating rings adjusted to a new path.  “Still a lot of work to do on maneuverability and speed, but we’re getting there.”

Koharu nodded.  She’d practiced flying drills at home and at some of the flying parks and gyms where she could, but she knew there were plenty of Heroes and Hero students out there who surpassed her.  Still, she felt pretty good that she’d been able to keep pace with Koumori, even with his no sonar handicap.  He didn’t seem like the type to have gone easy on her.

Koumori through both arms up in the air and Koharu had to dodge out of the way of his wing membranes. “Most excellent!” he shouted, before dropping his arms and squatting low, playing the air guitar.

Boost Rush passed them both water bottles from a near-by cooler.  Koharu accepted it gratefully, inserting her proboscis and sucking up greedy gulps.  She was already sweating heavily and she could tell she was going to be sore later. “Take a couple minutes to cool down and then we’ll go again.  That was just to get a baseline.  We’ll do Level Five this time.”

All around, she could see the other students being put through their paces by the Rookies and their teachers.  Most of those with Emitter type Quirks were either doing target practice or were otherwise working on strengthening their output.  Those with more physical Quirks were working on agility, coordination, or physical output, with a few of them sparring. She watched for a moment as the girl from 1-B sliced a huge rock clean in half, just be getting her arms on either side of it, while Shinso did the same with a tightly focused beam of sound. They all had robust schedules, working with different trainers.  Koharu herself had time booked for self-defense and for practice with her String-Shot and Scales as well as her flight training.

Looking up, she could see the Iida twins and Yoarashi racing through the air, the former with their Jetpacks and the later by manipulating the air with his Whirlwind Quirk.  They were making tremendous noise, like thunder, even though it was a near-cloudless day.  They all possessed a speed that she couldn’t help but envy.  

“Whoa,” Koumori said. “Check out that speed!  Sweeeeeet. Man, we’d have to flap, like, a million times to do that.  My arms would be soooo tired.”

Koharu smiled at that. “Then we better get practicing.”

***

Kenta offered Monoma a hand up, but the other boy brushed him off.  “I’m fine,” he said.

“C’mon, man,” Kenta said, still offering the hand.  “No shame here.  You have almost as good as you got.”

“I said I’m fine!” Monoma snapped, before leaping to his feet.

Kenta shrugged.  The two of them had been assigned sparring, since their particular Quirks were a bit unusual.  Monoma could copy any physical action he’d seen, but had no physical augmentation to go with it, so he needed to be able to reliably think on his feet and switch between skillsets.  Kenta, on the other hand, could bite through and eat just about anything. It was well suited for rescue work and it would be almost impossible to trap him anywhere.  In training, it worked incredibly well against robots.  He’d even used it to dig his way through the ground and brought down a streetlight on a faux-Villain during their Final Exam. But it was also not a Quirk well-suited for use directly against people.  So he needed to work on his hand-to-hand as much as possible.

Monoma was a good fighter, objectively better in that regard than he was, no matter what attitude problems he had, though the line between skill and Quirk got a little blurry. And he was definitely fighting like he had something to prove.  There was a kind of desperation to him, as though everything rested on whether or not he won the sparring match.

Kenta didn’t get why Monoma constantly seemed to have to stir the pot, but he could respect the skills. He mixed in everything from Gunhead-style martial arts to moves Kenta was pretty sure he’d seen Aizawa use, to even Ground Zero’s signature right hook.  Kenta’s own style was largely based in boxing and wrestling moves, from working out and practicing with his dad.  So far, it’d left him mostly open to Monoma’s flurry of kicks and punches, along with way more bouncing around than he’d have expected.  But he’d gotten lucky and landed a blow that had knocked the blond down.

“Go again, guys,” Super-Ball said.  1-B’s homeroom teacher was splitting his attention between a few small groups of sparring, but kept enough focus to make sure no one was getting hurt.  Kimmie was squaring off against Fukidashi, playing up something of a rematch of their fight from the Sports Festival, while he could see Shoji pitting his Extendo-Arms against the spider-legs of one of the Shiketsu girls in a limb-to-limb match.  “Try and vary up your moves more, Sato,” he added.  “And don’t forget your own skills, Monoma.  Not everything’s got to be something from your Quirk.”

“Yes, Sensei!” Monoma barked, dropping back into a fighting stance.   Kenta thought it was one he’d seen the Kung-Fu Hero: Slaying Mantis use.

He brought his own fists up, bouncing on the balls of his feet.  “Yes, Sensei!”

Monoma made the first move, launching a sweeping kick towards Kenta’s knees.  Kenta dodged out of the way and struck out, a pair of quick punches he knew wouldn’t connect, but forced Monoma to back up.  Kenta pressed his attack, throwing body blows. He had a bit of muscle on Monoma, but not much.  Physically, they were pretty good matches for each other.  

Monoma dodged again, this time throwing rapid-fire palm strikes that left him wincing.  It looked like the speed of the move was pushing his body pretty hard.  Kenta was sympathetic, but he couldn’t afford to give him a break.  Especially since those blows had hurt.  He’d parried some, but a few had gotten past his guard.

Kenta grunted, then faked left jab.  Monoma pirouetted away from it with some kind of dance move, but Kenta was ready for him, bringing around a good right hook of his own.  Or so he thought.  Monoma slipped under his strike and grabbed his arm.  The world shifted rapidly and Kenta found himself flat on his back.  

“Oooffff.”  Kenta let out a grunt.  

“Urvarity throw,” Monoma said, grinning smugly.  “Not as useful without Zero Gravity, but when you telegraph that much…”

Kenta wanted to get better. So he could protect people, so he could be a Hero.  He wanted to get better so that he could make his dad proud and honor his mom’s memory. He knew, especially after the exam, that he needed more than just his Quirk to do it.

But damn if right now he didn’t want to get better just to wipe the grin off Monoma’s face.  He popped back up, ready to fight again.  He didn’t have the animosity for Monoma that, say, Kirishima-Bakugo did, but damn if he didn’t want to hit him good, just once…

He felt a strong hand take his wrist and bring it up over his head. As he was turning to look, he saw the large figure of Boost Rush bringing his other hand to slap into his open palm.  Up close, the family resemblance between the two was undeniable.

"Tag out kid. Go see Bioshock, he's got some questions about your Quirk and a few ideas for optimizing it in combat. Ball, fliers are on a break, so I'll handle Tiny for a bit."

Super Ball shrugged and sighed exaggeratedly. "Far be it for me to get in the way of family drama. Just leave him in one piece."

As Kenta jogged off towards his next instructor, he heard a soft 'Dammit' from Monoma.

***

“Gravity Times Five—METEOR SMASH!”  Toshi lashed out, smashing a fist through the boulder in front of him. Fragments went flying in every direction, but he’d kept his gravity up to increase his own toughness, so none of them did him any harm.  

“Yeah, no, that sucked.”

Toshi gulped, then looked over to where Uncle Kacchan—no, Ground Zero while he was teaching—was watching him.  “What?” he asked.  “How? Should I have hit it harder?  Or maybe come at it from a different direction? I was trying to get it in one shot…”

Ground Zero brushed a piece of rubble off his shoulder.  “I’ve been watching you, kid,” he said.  His tone wasn’t unkind, but there was definitely a little annoyance in his voice. “You’ve only got two sets of moves.”

He went on, holding up a finger.  “First style is like that crazy old man.  You take a running leap—telegraphing like hell by the way—and bouncing around until you hit something.  Works good when you’ve got the space to do it in.  You might even get good at doing it in tight spaces if you work at it.  But that also isn’t going to do you any good when you’re out in the open and there isn’t anything to bounce off of but the bad guy.  That happens, you get one shot to hit him, and if that fails, you’re sunk.”   Another finger went up.  “Which is where you fall back on trick number two, which is what you did fighting Kana at the Sports Festival.  You tank up and try to land one big hit.”

“Hey, I,” Toshi protested, “sometimes I jump up and try to stomp on stuff too!”  The words sounded hollow as soon as they left his mouth.  He’d worked some on upping his mobility and figuring out where his opponent was going to be when he was working with Uncle Mirio, but he did still have some weaknesses in his fighting style.  But to hear it put like that…

“I’ve seen you practicing in the backyard with your old man,” Ground Zero went on.  “And Deku isn’t a shitty teacher.  So I know you know how to do more fighting than just that.  So why don’t you?”

Toshi frowned.  “The higher I turn the gravity up, the slower I can move.  So I have to go for really strong single strikes and switch as quick as I can.”

Ground Zero nodded. “I figured it was something like that. Kind of like when you dad’s Full Cowl started hurting him if he turned it up too much.”   He got a wicked glint in his eye.  “This isn’t the only thing I’ve got in mind for you… but we’re going to work the hell out of your endurance.”

Oh boy.  Toshi knew he still had a lot to work on.  Even with all the training he’d done before U.A. and all the training he’d had since, he was still just a first year student.  As angry as he came off in his public persona, it was easy to forget that Uncle Kacchan was really intelligent too.  Intelligence that had just been turned on him.  Toshi had pushed himself hard, but he suddenly felt as though that was nothing compared to what he was about to experience.

Was this how Dad had felt during school with Uncle Kacchan?!

***

Katsuki crossed his arms as he stood back and watched the students with Aizawa and Fujii (Super-Ball was a stupid name.  He was not calling the other man that.).  He’d done a lot of walking today and been on his feet a lot.  Part of him ached to have a seat, but he wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him have to do that.  Especially not any of the damn Rookies.  And especially not Mahoro.  Damn brat would never let him live that down.

He probably did need to rest at some point.  His doctors and physical therapists had been very insistent on the fact that he not push himself too far.  And he’d probably have Katsuma clucking over him the second he showed even the slightest sign of weakness.

Dammit.  He’d worked thirty-six hours or more straight before, without taking any kind of break.  He wasn’t some weakling.  This wasn’t who he was.

Maybe there was a way to talk to All Might about living with limitations without admitting he was talking about himself.

“So,” Aizawa said, “you’ve studied the Sports Festival and exam footage and you’ve had a chance to observe today.  What’re your thoughts?”

Katsuki looked around, watching the Rookies put the students through their paces.  Some of them looked like they were about ready to collapse, while others looked like they could go all day and all night if they had to.  Yoarashi’s kid was still zipping around like he’d had a liter of coffee injected directly into his veins.  Katsuki did enjoy a small, petty smile when he saw the two Monomas arguing with each other.

“They’ve not bad,” he grunted.  “You can which ones have had prior training though.”  As much as he’d never admit it to them, his former classmates had done a decent job teaching their kids the basics, even Pikachu and the Grape. Though he could probably chalk those two up to the mothers.  The Class-B kids were pretty good too, even Copycat Bastard’s brat. “Gap’s not too big for the ones that aren’t second generation though, so you two and All Might must have been doing something right.”

“Thanks,�� Fujii said. Then, hesitating, he added, “I think?”

“I heard a “but” in that sentence,” Aizawa said, perceptive as ever. Age had not diminished the hobo-bastard’s shrewdness. “Don’t make me pry it out of you.”

“Relax, old man,” Katsuki replied.  “When have you ever known me to keep my mouth shut?”

Aizawa didn’t even bother to look at him when he responded.  “When trying to process your own emotions, including your feelings of inadequacy.”

“You’re one to talk, Aizawa!” Fujii said.  “We’ve worked together for years and you almost never talk about yourself!”

It was becoming obvious that Fujii trying to get a rise out of Aizawa was a common occurance. Aizawa didn’t rise to the bait.

“See?” Fujii went on. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Don’t keep us waiting, Bakugo,” Aizawa said instead.

“They’re good,” Katsuki said.  “Some of them are even going to be great, if they don’t screw up before graduation.  But…  There’s no edge to them.  By the end of our first camp, we’d already been attacked by Villains multiple times.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful Katsumi and the rest haven’t had to experience that… I just worry that life’s going to smack them hard.”

His thoughts stalled for a moment when he thought about what Shota Shinso had endured.  He was carrying the kind of trauma Katsuki remembered from after the League had kidnapped him and he’d watched All Might’s last stand. The kid was doing all right now, or at least it seemed that way.  But the rest of them…

“Some of the kids got mixed up in the Nomu fighting a couple months back, but most of them weren’t going anything direct,” he continued.  “It’s all been so damn safe.  As a parent… I want to protect them.  But as a teacher, I feel like they need a reminder of what it could really be like out there.”

Aizawa nodded, while Fujii looked slightly horrified.

“You want to scare them?” Fujii asked, cautiously, as though testing just how crazy Katsuki was.

“A reality check wouldn’t hurt,” Aizawa agreed.  “Even with some of their experiences, their world’s been a fairly safe place.”  The old hobo frowned, and when he spoke again, he sounded a bit sad.  “You and your friends built a safer world, for your children, and a lot of other people’s children.  They shouldn’t be thrust into the kind of stuff you had to deal with.  But you’re not wrong either.  Let’s talk with the Rookies tonight and see what we can come up with.”

[kyotakumrau]

ROCK AND READ 087 - interview with Kyo - part 2/3

part 1/3 here 

－ I see. This way, the more ignorant you are (as in less trained) the less restricted you are. The first time you had a performance together with the dance troupe Banyu Inryoku was in 2015. I think that the eccentric performance and the power of expression brought out a totally different heterogeneity.

京 That might be true. What kind of chemical reaction will we get by adding the performance of Banyu Inryoku to sukekiyo’s worldview? Me myself also wanted to see that. I keep thinking that it’s fascinating to see as various chemical reactions occur, now becomes very different every moment. For us it becomes super exciting like ‘let’s see what will come out of this!’. It’s not fun to be able to see the complete form [from the beginning]. It’s more like 'it became like this when I thought it will be like that, and then …’

－ I think by wanting to enjoy the surprise of what will come out you’re very genuine.

京 That’s why I’m not different from fans. I’m just not hoping for anything.

－Seeing the performance with dance elements incorporated in, you really get to want to know everything about what kind of story is being shown, up to the last detail. And then the curiosity is stirred even more. Is this not something you’re after?

京 Even for this I don’t really think about the reaction of people to us doing something like that. We really just do what we want to do. Even if the story somehow gets a general framework, we deliberately try not to deliver the perfect answer. Wouldn’t it be boring to have only one answer? That’s why one can think about it in many ways, when we don’t give an answer deliberately it feels strangely hazy somehow. I don’t want that. The way of thinking and answers will vary depending on each person, what is seen as right and wrong also depends on the person. If someone thinks this way, this must be correct – this also changes with each person. We could say that to feel things naturally, what someone felt then is that person’s answer. That’s what I think is good. That’s why even though it wasn’t something I was after [originally], I’m glad when it becomes like this. I don’t think I’m always right, so I really just want people to feel [the performance] freely.

－ Yet the feeling transmitted by sukekiyo is grief. You never go into a happy direction.

京 That’s the basis. I just can’t accept happiness. Why, I wonder this myself. I’d like to become happy.

－ Just feel happy?

京 Yeah. But I just can’t. It’s just my personality. I just don’t have a big capacity to be glad for people’s happiness.

－ You’re saying that as you’re laughing (laughing).

京 I just keep thinking that even if there’s someone looking always happy they must be carrying something awful [inside]. Well, I do at least think it would be nice if thing went well.

－ I don’t think I’d invite someone who thinks this way to a wedding. You’re not [invited often] I guess?

京 Hahaha! Just no matter whose wedding it is I think that about 10 or 20% won’t be good. Sometimes we can see a wedding on TV. Okay, yeah, they look happy, but I start thinking they might be using something.

－ We get the celebs news thrown at us all the time (laughing).

京 You know, I can’t go on if I don’t think like that. I think that people who are 100% happy are also 100% happy for others (being able to celebrate their weddings). But I’m not like that, I’m not able to do that (laughing). I don’t need to be seen as a good person. I’m this kind of person. It should be okay with one person being like that, right?

－ But why is it a problem? At least you realize yourself that you can’t be happy for other people. There are people who can’t judge themselves [honestly] and avert eyes from their own character.

京 Yeah, there are. I do see them, I do. I see myself as a worthless person. I have worthless values/thoughts. I ask myself 'why do I …?’ My personality is 'why do I?’. That’s why when I’m talking with other people and I’m often told 'you must be having fun’, I don’t really think so. The reason for that are my worthless thoughts and being too insatiable. I have so many things I want to do, there are various things connected. I have this strong feeling of dread. I keep doing so much but I’m not satisfied. Even when at a time for a moment I think at last I made something good, the next day comes and it already feels hollow. That’s why not being content always feeds the feeling of lacking. Of course I think that the things I created are good, but I constantly feel that if they were done by someone else they would have ended much better. I really feel worthless. But everyone keeps thinking I have it all… in various ways. When I talk to the people in the office they tell me 'aren’t you in a much better place?’ but I can only see it as sarcasm.

－ But from the viewpoint of other musicians, you’re doing some great things they wish they could do like having world tours or playing at festivals abroad. You don’t think it’s great?

京 Nope, not for me. It might seem great to someone wishing to do that, but I’m envious of people who only tour domestically. I don’t want to go abroad. My stance is, if foreign fans want to see us they should come here. It’s my worthless values, but why is it me who should go? That’s the abroad thing (laughing). I get it that people abroad want to see us, but in that case please come to Japan, why do I have to travel [instead of them]? I do not hate foreign people. There are just many problems [with going abroad].

－ When you tour abroad I bet travel is stressful.

京 Travel too, but even before that, there’s an interview still in Japan when we go to get a visa. Even though I don’t really speak English I have to answer questions like 'how long will you be staying in the country?’ or 'what’s your occupation? What do you do?’ and so on. It’s unbelievably stressful.

－ You say you can’t be content, but when you started in a band, you felt a joy from playing a show and satisfaction when a show got heated up.

京 We started from a place like that, yeah.

－ Since when have you started to have this thought of not being satisfied?

京 I wonder. Until the time sukekiyo started I was only moving around inside the borders of music, but when I got out of it, when I thought anything is fine [as a form of expression], the world suddenly got really broad. That was huge for me. And, don’t we get stimulated by listening to various kinds of music? Like, ah there’s world like that too, huh. When looking at pictures, some make you feel many things. When touching those things, from that moment I started to hope that expression does not equal the skill. Because of thoughts of being worthless I didn’t draw or take photos, expressing myself by doing those things always felt very embarrassing. But [in the end] I couldn’t not do it. There are various people, no one is the same. If someone naturally creates something, draws naturally, if something is expressed freely, it will never be the same as other people’s. I started to think it’d be a good thing, when I accepted that I don’t need skills to do those things, the stopper inside of me just broke. The things I want to do increased greatly.

－ You started to draw, take photos and also have hold solo exhibitions; you started to crave different forms of expression.

京 Yes. As it’s fine even if I’m not good at it. It’s simply me [in those works]. There are people who keep criticizing even amazing pictures, or some who would say 'I don’t know why but it’s good’, everyone is so different. Caring about it, starting from basics, learning from the very beginning, that’s not for me. I haven’t actually learnt singing or done any voice training. From the viewpoint of a teacher I provably lack foundations. But it’s not like I sing worrying about that. I just throw my feelings into it. Like, with many works it’s fine if I show myself, pack my feelings into them. By changing into this stance my world got broader.

－ And at the same time the lack of satisfaction just grew stronger.

京 Exactly. The things I want to do are always swirling around in my mind, there are always many unpredictable things. When an idea comes to me I just do it. Even today when I went to the office, while waiting I was talking to the staff, I suddenly got an idea, just like 'let’s do it this way’. And like that we could proceed with 2~3 items. There are many situations like this. I really value the inspiration that comes then and there.

－ With both sukekiyo and DIR EN GREY, the speed of your work as a vocalist is really terrifying

京 I don’t really compare things like that.

－ The members often say that. Even when the details of the song arrangement are not decided yet, the vocal recording is already done and over.

京 Yeah, that’s true.

－ So the information is right?

京 Nah, in my opinion I’m average. I don’t really check how fast other people work. It’s a basic thing, but I hate when someone’s late. I arrive 10 minutes early. I’m the type of person who wants to finish things as fast as possible and move on [with work]. It’s super rare that concert would start late because of me. Even encore, I just quickly change my make up and wait at the side of the stage. So even when you’re thinking we’re taking sweet time to come back on the stage it’s not me (laughing). And it’s not about speed, I just don’t like working on the things I want to do slowly. Everyone gets the same amount of time, but isn’t the time we have limited? Depending on how we use it our life from now on, what we’re able to do, everything will change. That’s why the time is so precious to me. Of course there’s also a type of people who create things after thinking for some time. I’m definitely not against them. But I’m the type who proceeds with ideas like …BAM! That’s how I do things, I’m not able to match the style of [carefully thinking] creators.

－ But you do see that expressing the idea that just came to you as it is, there and then, will give it a higher quality shape?

京 That’s right. Actually by not being able to express the ideas that come to me I get really stressed. I would just keep thinking about them like 'I want to do this, want to do that’, not being able to think of anything else. Very stressful.

－ I know that everyone gets the same amount of time, but long time ago, the top manager in sunkrad, Dynamite Tommy said 'Kyo-chan is a type who won’t be able to live very long’.

京 How mean (laughing).

－ He saw that you’re someone who lives fast.

京 It’s true that I’m often told I live fast (and recklessly), but from my point of view everyone else is just slow (laughing). I’m normal. It’s not that I do things in a hurry, I do them normally, just that. From my point of view the people around me are just super slow. It’s a huge misunderstanding that I live fast.

－ Usually the spreading of the music antenna (enjoying different genres and styles) gets worse as people age. But it seems that yours is just stringing up.

京 Nah, I don’t think so.

－ I think the majority of people think that the music of their youth is the best, their views got wider for a time to get narrow again [as they got older].

京 Ah, I get what you want to say. Recently I really got into Madonna. I only started to listen to her music a few years ago. I didn’t like her that much before.

－ You’re talking about her albums from the 80s not the current music?

京 Yeah, the old ones. The cheap sound of the 80s, I have it in my head. I made requests about that to the members. The cheap programming of that era, I really love it. I felt that as sukekiyo now we could somehow remake this feeling nicely. But it doesn’t feel like spreading the antenna. It also doesn’t feel like I listen to many different types of music as a study. It just feels like I’m living very naturally.

(part 3 here)

[rainbowserenity]

1. “Do you want me to leave?” - Hopurai

royal!AU tag

my intention with this AU was for it to be a bunch of oneshots that could be read separately….but this is the installment that makes me wish I’d had the foresight to just make it into a multichapter fic 8D;if you don’t want to go in blindly, I would HIGHLY recommend (re?)reading at least the previous installment before the this one. all the fics are in the above linked tag, or they’re in a collection on AO3 here

sorry for being so ridiculous lmao

*****

Therewas such a strange disconnect from staring outside the windows of thepalace as opposed to when she’d had to stare out of a hole in theceiling back when she’d been living in the slums. Back then, she’d belooking up into the smog-covered sky, trying against all odds to seethe stars that the fal'cie would bring at night.

Now,sitting in her office, she could literally look down on so much ofEden since the palace towered over pretty much everything except thefal'cie Phoenix itself. It was weird, to say the least.

Well,she supposed it was no stranger than Lightning Farron, former soldierand resident of the slums, being discovered as Eden’s long-lostprincess.

Lightningfrowned slightly as she watched people go about their daily business.From up here, they looked like ants. It was hard to believe that somecould be struggling or confused or going through heartbreak…

Notthat she’d know anything about heartbreak. At all. Nope.

“Hey,you finished yet?”

Witha sigh, Lightning pulled her gaze away from the window and stared atSazh, who was officially her adviser, but really played the role of ababysitter. It was insulting if she thought about it too much. “Doesit look like I’ve finished?”

“True.”Sazh waltzed up to her desk and pointedly stared at the pile ofpapers. “'Cause if you had finishedthis incredibly easy task, I bet you would’ve found me already andclaimed that poor ol’ Sazh was overworked and needed a vacation - ”

“Itried to give you a vacation after the ball,” Lightning pointedout, raising an eyebrow. “You told me I’d probably set the palaceon fire if you left for a day.”

“AndI’m probably right!”

“Doubtful.”Lightning rolled her eyes and tapped her pen against the papers infront of her a few times. “I’m fairly sure that I, a grown adultwho’s been taking care of herself since she was a teenager, couldeasily manage without you for a few days.”

“Keeptellin’ yourself that.” Sazh picked up one of the papers. “Whichone are you working on?”

“Theletter to Vanille.” DiaVanille had been an important guest at Lightning’s introduction balla few days ago. It was a gathering that had officially presented heras Eden’s princess, which, in turn, would hopefully open up newrelations. Now she was supposed to be writing letters of intent toget people on her side with whatever she planned to do as regent.

Despitefinding the whole practice completely ridiculous, Lightning actuallyhad gotten along fairly well with the Duchess of Luxerion, Vanille.She had to wonder if this was partially because her bodyguard wasfriends with the Duchess and that made it easier to like her.

Or…formerbodyguard, she supposed.

“Keepit short and sweet,” Sazh advised. “Vanille’s not much for longletters.”

“Andyou think I am?”

“Justlet me dream a little, geez. Kids these days.”

Lightningrolled her eyes again, her mind wandering to the ball. Chatting withVanille and her girlfriend Fang, the Princess of Oerba…dancing in adress that glittered with an obnoxious amount of diamonds…steppingonto the balcony with -

Ugh,okay, definitely not goingthere.

Aftera pause where she wrote a few words, Lightning glanced up. Sazh wasscribbling something in a book – probably grading her on heretiquette, hmph. “Was there something else you needed?”

“Yes,as a matter of fact.” Sazh stopped writing and plopped into a chairwithout any grace. If she’d done the same, he would’ve recoiled inhorror. “We didn’t really get a chance to talk after the ball.Gotta say, I’m impressed with how you handled things.”

“Itwas a glorified dance. Not too difficult.”

Thatwas a lie and they both knew it. Lightning had grown up in a suburbof Eden and then spent her teenage years in the slums – she’d neverbeen to any sort of dance, never mind a ball of the caliber that’dbeen held in her honor. Beingparaded around like a doll had been one of the most difficult thingsshe’d ever done. Luckily, she’d met Vanille and Fang very early onduring the night and their new-foundfriendship had made goingthrough the motions much easier.

Therewas someone else who’d helped out, but she preferred not to think toohard about that.

“Yeah,yeah.” Sazh waved a hand. “Keep tellin’ yourself that. And tellme your thoughts –anybody there you think we could strengthen an alliance with? Or formone? Technically, Eden’s always been on good terms with the otherkingdoms since Phoenix is the most important fal'cie, but there’salways room for improvement. See any of that? Or…” He raised aneyebrow. “Any potential suitors?”

Lightningducked her head, hoping against everything that the heat she feltsimmering under her skin was from a…hot flash or something. Yeah,that totally made sense. She wasn’t about to blush atthe thought of a certain personal bodyguard taking her to see astar-filled sky and light-studded city. There was definitely nothought of his hands on her, his lips caressing hers…

“Nosuitors,” she finally said, clearing her throat and daring to lookup. At least her face felt normal. “Serah seemed to like the Patronof Yusnaan, though.” She frowned.

“What,you got a problem with him?” Sazh looked faintly amused. “I knowhe’s just a kid, but then again, so are you.”

“Hejust seemed…” Lightning shook her head. There were only a fewwords she could think of to describe Snow Villiers, and none of themwere all that flattering. “But we’ve been on particularly goodterms with Yusnaan, so it doesn’t really matter. Fang seemed to likeme, so maybe we can strengthen ties with Oerba.”

“Thatgirl’s an odd one.” Sazh leaned back in his chair, looking lost inthought. “I’m pretty sure all she really gives a damn about isVanille. For awhile, it was lookin’ like Oerba and Luxerion wouldofficially join forces, possibly to try and topple Eden and take overPhoenix.”

Lightningraised her eyebrows. “Could they do that?”

“Probably.Ain’t like the fal'cie care that much.”

Shehad no idea if that was true. Lightning had yet to see Phoenix inperson since being found as the princess of Eden. “Do you thinkFang was trying to get on my good side, then? And then betray me whenleast expected?”

“Nahhh.If Vanille liked you, then Fang’s sure as hell not gonna mess withyou or anybody in Eden. And trust me, Vanille is as genuine as theycome. Kinda hard to believe she’s royalty sometimes.” Sazh sighedin exasperation. “I’ve worked with so many of you kids over theyears that I wonder if you all share the same stick up your ass.”

Insteadof biting back with a retort, Sazh’s comment made Lightning asksomething she’d been wondering for awhile. “That’s right – bothFang and Vanille said that they knew you. You were an adviser forsome members of the old family, too.”

“Gladto see you pay attention when I talk.”

“Thatdoesn’t make much sense, though,” Lightning continued, ignoringSazh’s comment. “You’re not even twice my age. You said you’ve beenserving the old family for years, but if you served Fang and Vanilletoo…”

“Inever told you?” Now Sazh looked confused, but also a littleconcerned. It was very strange to see him with an expression towardsher that wasn’t exasperation. “Huh, guess I wouldn’t have at thebeginning. And things have been so crazy with the ball andeverything…”

“Toldme what?”

Sazhundid the top two buttons of his shirt and tugged it down a bit. Itwas still hidden under some fabric, but there were a bunch oftelltale lines and intersecting arrows that made Lightning sit ramrodstraight in her chair, eyes widening a bit. She knew what it meantbefore Sazh even said the words.

“I’ma l'cie.”

Thestories had spread among the slums – scary children’s tales thatwould send Serah crying into her arms in fear. L'cie were warriorschosen by fal'cie and sent to fight their battles, using magic farmore powerful and horrifying than the average person was capable of.They would live forever until the fal'cie grew tired of them andended their misery with agony, only to gather new warriors and repeatthe cycle anew.

Sincethere hadn’t been a real war in centuries, l'cie were just terriblestories. Even though Lightning knew they were likely just that –stories – nobody she knew had ever met or been one, so itwas hard to say what was the truth or not.

Itwas true, however – recorded in history books and all –that l'cie were branded when they were made. The lines intersectingon Sazh’s skin perfectly matched what Lightning knew.

“You’re– how - ”

“Ohc'mon, you know damn well I’m not some war machine. I hear thosestories. Most of ‘em are totally untrue. Probably made up by somefanatic or anti-war group back in the day.” Sazh shrugged andbuttoned his shirt, hiding the brand from sight.

“Thenwhat is true?”

“One,we don’t live forever. But it does stretch things out a bit.” Hechuckled. “You pretty much stop physically aging once you’rebranded. Good thing, or I’d have half a century’s worth of gray hairfrom all you kids stressin’ me out.”

Lightningdid not laugh. She still felt something akin to horror, though Sazh’snonchalant attitude and her own logic were calming her down a bit.“But why were you branded? I’ve always heard that l'cie werejust tools for war.”

“LikeI said, stories.” Sazh waved a hand. “Yeah, sure, some were madefor war, but most l'cie are branded to carry out a certain purpose,whether for war or whatever else.”

“Andlet me guess,” Lightning said, her head starting to clear, “yourpurpose is to annoy me?”

“Close.”He chuckled again. “Nah, the old queen’s mother put in a good wordfor me with Phoenix. I kinda fell into the adviser role and the royalfamily was damn impressed. They asked if I wanted to do it forlonger, and well…” He shrugged. “Here I am. ‘Course, I’d go outto ally kingdoms or whatnot. In Duchess Vanille’s case, her parentsdied when she was barely a kid, so I kept an eye on her. I only knowPrincess Fang through her, though.”

“Isee.” And she did, actually. The initial shock had finally wornoff. Honestly, she couldn’t see why someone would want to live foryears and years doing the sort of thing Sazh did, but now she knewhow he was so good at his job…literal years of practice. “And I’mguessing this is common knowledge among the other royals?”

“Well,yeah. I’m everywhere, you know.” He tapped the side of his head.“Can’t do much to hide that.”

“Isuppose not.” Of course she was the last to know…but then again,she always seemed to be the last to know things lately, sowhat did one more thing matter?

“Onthat note, I’ve got some other things I need to do.” The tone inSazh’s voice had gone so serious that it made Lightning glance upfrom her letter and frown in confusion.

“Whatthings?”

“Geez,so nosy.” He shook his head. “Don’t you worry about it. Finishyour letters and I’ll have one of the assistants come in andproofread them.”

Sherolled her eyes. “Sure.”

Hewas already halfway out the door, but still called out as thought heactually had eyes in the back of his head. “I saw that!”

Lightningshook her head and stared back down at her letter to Vanille, tappingher pen against the paper a few times. Even though it’d been quitesome time since she’d been found as Eden’s princess, the formalityand unspoken rules still baffled her. Ever since meeting a bunch ofthem at her introduction ball, however, she’d seen that many of themfound some of the rules and etiquette archaic as well.

Sowhy did they have to do it?

Shesighed heavily and slumped in her chair – a posture that Sazh wouldfrown upon, but for once, she was blessedly alone. Not even a maidwas to be seen, although she could hear people puttering in thehallways outside her office. It was so rare these days she couldactually be by herself. Usually she at least had her personalbodyguard with her…

“No,”she muttered, chiding herself. She would not think about him.She would not wonder where he’d gone after running from her atthe ball, and she would certainly not replay the images oftheir kiss in her mind.

Nope.Not her.

Lightningheaved another sigh and shoved the papers aside, going back tostaring out the window. Concentration was clearly useless, at leastfor now. She may as well take advantage of Sazh not being around todemand her to do stuff.

–

Itwas only a few days later when she got the news.

Shewas in the sitting area of her suite, talking to Serah on the phone –an encrypted, ridiculously secure line, of course. Actually beingable to see her sister would’ve been better, but Serah wascompletely swamped with work at the university and couldn’t get away.

Therewas always, however, time for a phone call.

“Ijust don’t get what you see in him,” Lightning muttered, scribblingin the margins of her scrap paper. She was still working on thoseletters and had been trying to think of good things to say SnowVilliers, Patron of Yusnaan. It was exceedingly difficult.

Forher, anyway.

“He’sso sweet!” Serah basically swooned over the phone. “And don’t youthink he’s handsome? I wonder if he’ll wear the same outfit at myintroduction ball.”

Lightningfrowned. “He’s a big lug that kept stepping on my feet.”

“Notto mention that you can tell he really cares about his people.”Serah kept going on like her sister had said nothing. “Maybe it’sbecause he was elected? I mean, I know you care about everyone in thekingdom, but some of the other royals who have lived it since theywere born….it’s different for them. Don’t you think so?”

Unconsciously,Lightning’s grip on her phone tightened. He’d said that to her morethan once.

Youknow what it’s like on the other side. You’ll be able to bring realchange.

Herstomach fluttered and she willed the door to knock – something,anything to let her know that her personal bodyguard wascoming back.

Knock-knock.

Shestared at the door. Could it be…?

“YourHighness?”

Hershoulders drooped so quickly that she nearly dropped the phone. Sherecognized the quiet voice of Yeul, one of her maids. With a heavysigh, she called out, “Just a moment!”

“Sis?Do you want me to leave?”

“Sorry,Serah.” Lightning heaved another sigh. “I have to go. I’ll callyou back tonight, okay?”

“Okay!I should probably get back to all this homework.” Her tone grewteasing. “You think they’d let a princess catch a break.”

“Ifyou’d wanted to catch any breaks, you wouldn’t have applied to themost prestigious university in the world,” Lightning teased back.“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay.Love you!”

“Youtoo.”

Anotherquiet knock sounded at the door. This time, Lightning stood, herposture automatically straight as she smoothed down her clothes. Asthere hadn’t been anything urgent on her schedule for the day, she’dopted for comfortable slacks and a thin cashmere sweater – clothingshe’d take over diamond-studded ball gowns any day.

“Comein.”

Yeulentered the room, dropping into a curtsy. All of the servantscontinued to be ridiculously formal around her, despite herinsistence otherwise. It was sort of why she appreciated Sazh naggingher all the time, though hell would freeze over before she’d admitit.

Andspeak of the devil…

“Mr.Katzroy requests that you join him in the conference room, YourHighness.”

Lightningfrowned, the request immediately striking her as odd. Usually Sazhsought her out himself when he needed something, or at least wouldbring her to whatever room he needed. Especially since this palacewas ridiculously huge and she still didn’t always know her wayaround.

“Conferenceroom?”

“Yes.”Yeul bowed her head. “Allow me to escort you.”

“Sure.”Lightning was all too happy to leave her papers and thoughts ofwriting to Snow behind…although surely whatever Sazh had plannedfor her would be just as annoying.

Itturned out she wasn’t too far off.

Yeulmurmured something into a speaker that was attached to the earpieceshe was wearing, presumably telling her coworkers where she was. Therest of the walk was fairly quiet, which was fine with her. Lightningwas more than okay with staring at the paintings and pricelessartifacts that adorned the walls. A lot of them were portraits of herextremely distant ancestors. Apparently she and Serah would have tosit for portraits at some point and then they’d be on the wallsforever. It was a very weird thought.

Whenthe finally reached the conference room, Yeul curtsied again beforeopening one of the wide doors. “Her Highness, Princess Lightning,has arrived,” she called, her soft voice echoing into the emptyroom.

“Thanks,”Lightning said, nodding at Yeul before she stepped inside. There wasa weird flash of gold that struck Yeul’s eyes, but it was probablyjust glare from all the artifacts around them. Weird.

Theconference room was huge, with tons of folded seats and what lookedlike a stage and podium. It reminded her a bit of a theater withoutthe screen. “Sazh?”

“Overhere.” He was off to the side, where there was a table and somechairs covered with papers. She hurried over to him. “Always makin’an old man wait, huh?”

“Yeah,yeah.” It felt weird to comment on that since now she had a roughidea of just how old Sazh really was. “How come you calledme here?”

“Nobodyever uses this room and I wanted to inform you of something inprivate.”

Instantly,Lightning’s heart began to pound. For whatever reason, her firstthought was of the night of the ball. Had someone seen them out onthe balcony? Was there some protocol about a princess and herbodyguard sharing a kiss?

“It’sabout your coronation.”

Shelet out a huge breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding,slumping in her seat a bit. She ignored the evil eye Sazh gave her.“What about it?”

“Asyou know, the old family kept their power tightly reigned.” Themore he spoke, the more serious Sazh became. It was weirdlyoff-putting. “All of the descendants have been, more or less,direct from the first king. Kinda a cut and dry family tree, evenwith all the marriages and what have you.”

“Right.”Lightning vaguely recalled this when she’d been forced to study theold family. The crown almost always went to the firstborn son ordaughter, which wasn’t so unusual for royalty, she supposed, but thefamily tree was streamlined to the point where many of thefirstborn’s siblings rarely got married or had children of their own.It was why she and Serah being a part of all of this was basicallyunprecedented.

Veryweird.

“LikeI told you, I’ve had some dealings with the old family. And I’m notthat old to remember the first king, but there’s a reason theykept the family as it was.”

“Sazh,please.” Lightning was rapidly running out of patience. She wasn’treally sure why, but something in her just wanted to hear thenews already. “Get to the point.”

“Soimpatient,” he muttered. “Okay, fine – long story short – thecoronation and ruling status are only valid with approval fromPhoenix.”

Itfelt like a block of ice had suddenly dropped in her stomach,although it took her a moment to rationalize why. “Approval?”“Yes.”The serious tone in Sazh’s voice grew. “You meet with the fal'ciein a special one-on-one ceremony. Phoenix will brand you as the nextruler of Eden. Not like a l'cie,” he added hastily, whenLightning’s gaze focused on the spot where his brand was hidden.“There’s no permanent mark, although it lasts 'til you’reofficially crowned. Then you’re free to rule as you please.”

Theice turned to lead in her gut. “Okay, so I meet with Phoenix andit…approves of me.” She frowned. “Why tell me this in secrecy?This is probably common knowledge among the royals, right?”

“Yeah.Some of the others brand their rulers like this too, but Phoenix isthe most important because, well…obvious reasons and all.”

“Isee.” The perfect placeholder reply, because this whole thing madeher feel…uneasy. Phoenix was arguably the most importantfal'cie in the world. Without the sun and life it provided, therewould be no world. The fal'cie from other kingdoms couldeasily be replaced with hard work and effort from humanity.

Butthe sun? There was no replacement for that.

Theenormity of her role in the world suddenly hit her like a train. Itdidn’t matter if her sister or the other royals or certain personalbodyguards believed in her. She’d never been very good at followingrules and had always thought of herself as very independent. The factthat she was to be in charge of everything under somethingelse’s power made her want to take a sword to Phoenix just to rid theworld of it, so humanity could try to thrive on its own.

Notthat she would – or could – ever admit this out loud.

“There’sone other thing,” Sazh added when she said nothing more.

Lightningrolled her eyes a little, mostly out of habit. “What?”

Hedidn’t comment on her rudeness. “I know for a fact thatyou’re part of the royal bloodline. Ol’ Sazh did his research. Youdon’t even want to know what dusty old books and old familyrecords I had to look up to find you and your sister.”

“You’vementioned this.” She raised an eyebrow. “Many times, in fact.”

“'Causeit’s true.” There was a pause before his voice went grave.“However, if Phoenix doesn’t approve of you for whatever reason ordecides you’re not worthy of the power to rule…”

Lightningwaited a moment for him to finish, but she knew what he meant when hetrailed off. This, maybe, was the source of her instant uneasinesswhen he’d started talking. It was everything she hadn’t known she wasdreading since coming into the conference room.

“…Phoenixwill kill me.” She met his eyes. “Won’t it?”

“There’snot much of a chance it’ll disapprove of you,” Sazh repliedquickly. She wondered who he was trying to convince. “Like I said,I did my research and you’re a part of the bloodline. I’ve heardthat’s all it really cares about. It’s not like the fal'cie reallygive a damn about human affairs, y'know?”

“Right.”She ignored the unsaid words – there was still that chance Phoenixwould cast her aside and everything would be for nothing.

Betterme than Serah.

Thatwas what it always came down to, the first thought her instinct wentto. Serah was the one who deserved a comfortable life withresponsibilities chosen by her and not some rule or bloodline. It wasbecause of her sister that Lightning had worked her ass off when theywere still in the slums, doing everything she could to give Serahever opportunity possible.

Shenever thought there was the possibility it could lead to her death.

Butwhat about her role now? Though she hadn’t asked for any of this, shewas slowly finding herself eager to make changes around the kingdomof Eden and make things better for people who weren’t long-lostmembers of the royal family.

“You’veseen both sides. I think that’ll eventually come to be your biggeststrength.”

Eventhough she kept trying not to think about a certain personalbodyguard, his words from the ball popped into her head. She’d alwaystaken his reassurance to heart, but now it had a thousand times moremeaning.

Thoughshe would never deny that Serah had also suffered in the past,Lightning had always watched out for her and sacrificed somuch to ensure that her needs were met. Their experiences weredifferent because of that.

Nobodyhad ever looked out for Lightning until now.

Andbecause of that, she was the only one who could truly changethings.

Shewas quiet for another moment as though contemplating, but short ofrunning away, there was really only one answer. There had only everbeen one answer.

Lightningsucked in a breath and met Sazh’s eyes, trying to steel herself withdetermination.

“Whatdo I need to do before meeting with Phoenix?”

–

Aswith practically everything related to this princess business, thepre-ceremony rituals were completely over the top and ridiculous.Someday she’d realize that nobody around here ever did things simply.

Overthe next couple of days, she rehearsed the ancient words that wouldsummon Phoenix to an audience with her. A handful of older maids –ones that had been tasked with all of the ritual business with theold family – helped her with cleansing baths and created theceremonial outfit. They were all sworn to secrecy.

Shefigured that made sense. If she was killed by Phoenix, it’d beeasier in the long run to play it off as some kind of accident ratherthan the most important fal'cie in the world rejecting her.

Butshe tried not to think about that. Besides the maids – and Sazh, ofcourse – the only other person who knew about the upcoming ceremonywas Serah, and that was simply because there was no way shewas keeping this a secret from her sister.

Lightningdidn’t mention the risks, though. Some things were better kept quiet.

“Snowtalks to Pandaemonium sometimes,” Serah mused over the phone. Itwas the night before Lightning’s meeting with Phoenix and she decidedshe’d needed the distraction. “Maybe he could give you advice!”

“Idon’t want any advice from that big lug.” She rolled her eyes, notwanting to admit she was curious, but… “…Talks to it how?”

Serah’svoice was a little knowing, but she didn’t tease. “He told me it’snot so much words. It’s not like conversing with a person – thefal'cie send images and they get clearer the more you have a mutualunderstanding.” She hummed a little. “Maybe it’s easy for himbecause he was elected the Patron.”

“Ormaybe his head’s so empty that the images come easier because there’snothing in the way.”

“Sis.”Serah huffed in exasperation. “Be nice.”

“I’dbe nicer if you were less interested in him.”

“Buthe’s so sweet!”

“Hmph.”This was what she wanted to worry about – who was goodenough for her sister and ridiculous things like that…not if thefal'cie who basically sustained the world was going to kill her.

Shecouldn’t let herself think about it.

Luckily,Serah was eager to keep chatting – mostly about Snow, toLightning’s disgust – and her nerves settled somewhat. Her sisterwas the one person who could distract her from this whole princessthing.

Well,her and another person, but she didn’t want to think about him,either.

Thenight passed quickly and soon Lightning was too tired to even hold upthe phone. She fell asleep quickly without having time to dwell onthe ceremony the next day. Just as planned.

Ironically,the sun woke her gently the following morning, which was a nicechange from her alarm going off or someone knocking on her door. Infact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up so calmly.

Ifonly it was enough to make up for what was about to happen.

Thecalm was unfortunately short-lived, because about thirty secondsafter she’d stood up and stretched, someone knocked at her door.

“YourHighness?”

Lightningsighed heavily, immediately recognizing the voice of the oldest ofthese in-the-know maids. “Come in.”

Therewere three of them and they filed in slowly, their hands clasped infront as they walked. She realized this was an incredibly serious andformal situation, but the realness of it smacked her in the face atthe sight of the maids looking so grave. That lead block that’dformed in her gut when Sazh initially told her about all of hisreturned in full force.

“Thisway.” One of the maids gestured to her ensuite bathroom, whereanother maid was already running the water. Lightning could see heradding special oils and herbs to the tub, apparently part of thewhole cleansing ritual.

Shewas already long used to shedding her modesty in front of otherpeople since this whole princess thing had become a part of her life,but she’d never hated it more than she had at this second. Undressingand slipping into the tub in front of the others just made this wholething feel weird and awkward and way more serious than she wanted itto be. It didn’t help that she knew arguing was useless; the oldestmaid had a glare that could probably take down Sazh – a trait she’dlove to learn, to be honest. Maybe she’d ask for lessons later.

Providedshe survived Phoenix’s judgment, of course.

Withthat thrilling thought in mind, Lightning allowed herself to be driedafter the bath and wrapped in a robe. She had to admit that whateverhad been added to the bath made her skin feel like new. There’d neverbeen any time or money to bother with girly lotions and potionsbefore Sazh had found them, but maybe there was some merit in it.

Onceshe was sufficiently dry, she was led into her enormous walk-inwardrobe, where the ceremonial gown was waiting for her. It wasactually quite a beautiful dress – a flowing garment in shades ofgold, white, and blue. There was a cape with a long train attached tothe back, maybe just to add to the ridiculousness. Phoenix’s brandwas embroidered along the edges in gold.

Themaids helped her into the gown and simple gold shoes. One of themclasped a gold bracelet with multicolored stones around her wrist.

“What’sthis?” Lightning asked, lifting her arm to inspect the bracelet. Anumber of jewels were kept in her wardrobe and a lot were in storage,but she was fairly sure she’d never seen this one before. It wasweirdly flashy and simple at once.

“Agift from Phoenix, Your Highness,” the youngest of the maidsanswered (although 'young’ in this case was about eighty years old).“It’s said that that fal'cie itself put it on the wrist of thefirst king. Ever since then, it’s been a tradition to wear it to theMeeting.”

Lightningsuddenly lost all interest in the bracelet and dropped her arm. “Oh.”

Thefinal part of her outfit was a headpiece that fit snugly in her hair.Long lines of gold extended from the band in varying lengths, thelongest about a foot. It formed a semicircle around her head – madeto resemble rays of the sun, she realized as she looked in a mirror.

“Whenyou’re ready, we’ll escort you,” the oldest maid said after apause.

“…Right.”Lightning let out a breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ifany of them found her comment weird, they made no mention. Instead,they simply ushered her out of her suite. The hallway – whichusually had people milling about cleaning and whatnot – was emptyexcept for them. Two of the maids stood on either side and one was infront to lead the way.

Theywalked like that the whole time in silence, the only sound being thewhoosh of her cape flowing over the floor. Usually Lightning reveledin quiet, but this silence felt way too heavy. It carried foreboding.

Doom.

Still,all she did was recite her summoning words in her mind, hoping shewouldn’t forget them. She’d never been one to crack under pressure,but this was a whole different level.

Itseemed like they’d walked for miles before they finally stopped infront of an enormous door. Lightning realized she’d actually passedthis area a handful of times, but the door was nondescript and tuckedaway, so she’d never given thought to what could be behind it.

Themaid in front slowly pulled the door open. Sunlight poured in and shetried not to squint at the glare.

“Wecan go no further,” the maid said. “Please head forward for yourceremony.”

“Thanks.”

Theyall curtsied in unison as she stepped into the light, not risinguntil the door slowly creaked shut behind her. Forget the lead in hergut; her stomach was doing cartwheels by now.

“Thatyou?”

Lightningnever thought she’d be so damn grateful to hear Sazh’s voice. She letout a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding and hurried over –as much as she could in this outfit, anyway – and even though hestill looked grave and serious, it was still a relief to be aroundsomeone normal.

Well,normal to her, anyway.

“Ididn’t think you’d be here,” she said, trying to sound composed. “Ithought it might be against the rules or whatever.”

Despitethe serious expression on his face, Sazh smirked a little. “Whathave I been tellin’ you? There’s no getting rid of me. Besides, youhave any idea what you’re doing right now?”

Lightninglooked around the room for the first time. It was weirdly bright andwhite, though she could vaguely make out ornate designs on the wallsin gold. Ahead of her was more brightness and – was that fog?

Yeah,she was totally lost.

“Thoughtso,” was all Sazh replied at the look on her face. “All right,lemme lead you through it. Ask your questions or forever hold yourpeace.”

“Justtell me how to get to Phoenix,” she replied. “I want to get thisover with.”

“Fairenough.” He shook his head in exasperation and then gestured to theweirdly bright, foggy area in front of them. “Head forward untilyou see a crystal. It’ll be floating in midair, so try not to freak.”

“I’veseen freakier things.”

“Yeah,yeah.” He rolled his eyes, which was oddly comforting. “Once youget to the crystal, hold cup your hands around it.” Sazh held uphis own hands to demonstrate. “Then recite the summons you’veundoubtedly memorized. That should take you right to Phoenix.”

Lightningheld up her hands in the same way Sazh had. “Crystal, hands,recite. I think I’ve got it.”

“Youdo.” He stared at her a moment and then sighed, bowing his head abit before nodding. “You really do. You’ve got this.”

Ifthat was his way of saying he was sure she’d survive…the confidenceactually worked somewhat. Much to her annoyance, Sazh really did knowa lot and she trusted him. It was not guarantee, but at leastit was something.

“Right,”she murmured, squaring her shoulders. “I’ll be back.”

“We’llbe waiting.”

Asshe headed into the fog, Lightning could’ve sworn she heard somefootsteps echoing behind her, but she did not dare to look over hershoulder. Eyes front. If she lost her nerve now, she’d never be ableto do this again.

Timelost all meaning as she walked through the light and fog. There wasno comfort in it, but oddly enough, she had no fear, either. MaybeSazh’s confidence in her had actually worked. Maybe it was becauseshe had to survive for Serah.

Maybeit was because, according to a certain personal bodyguard, she couldbring about real change.

Shehad no idea how long she’d walked before the crystal appeared infront of her. It was shaped a bit like a diamond and reflectedrainbows into the whiteness around her. Just as she was supposed to,she hovered her hands around it and closed her eyes, bowing her headas she spoke.

“OMighty fal'cie Phoenix, I seek you so that I may govern in yourblessed name. Guide me to your knowing light so that I may humblygaze upon you.”

Shefelt stupid chanting the words, especially since she wasn’t quitesure how much she believed in them. Apparently belief didn’t matter,though, because the crystal suddenly blinded her – even though hereyes were still closed – and she had the sensation of movement. Itfelt like falling, but she was still upright. Lightning didn’t dareopen her eyes in case it broke some kind of spell. Sazh hadn’tmentioned any of this! She was definitely going to rant at himwhen she got back.

Ifshe got back.

Whenthings finally stilled, Lightning took a moment to breathe, her eyesstill closed. It was extremely unusual for her to just stand aroundand put herself in any sort of vulnerable position, but what wasn’tunusual about all of this?Surely a breather wasn’t out of line.

Therewas about ten second of silence before an unfamiliar rumbling noiseand a flash of head made her finally open her eyes. She could notcontain the gasp that ripped through her at what was before her.

“Phoenix.”

Thefal'cie was long and skinny on both ends, with smaller pieces of itsbody – was that a body? - extending from it. Whether theseparts were something otherworldly, nature, machine – she had noidea. In the middle it was round, filled with a light so bright thatshe couldn’t stare for long.

Itwas nothing like she had ever seen or imagined.

Ofcourse she had seen fal'cie before. Most everyone had. There weresmaller ones that worked in separate jurisdictions in Eden, doingvarious tasks like providing electricity or things for export. Notall of them in other kingdoms made themselves hidden, either. Theywere just a part of the landscape and a part of life thatnobody really took notice of them.

Nowshe understood why Phoenix was hidden away.

Itwas impossible not to take notice.

Lightningstepped forward unconsciously, not sure if she wanted to run towardsit or away. She felt dazed, which was not a sensation she wasa fan of, but what else could she do?

Therewas noise coming from the fal'cie, but she wasn’t sure if it wastrying to speak or if that was just how it sounded naturally. Surelysomething so massive and powerful couldn’t be completely silent.

Thesounds were like screams and whispers all at once, having thestrength to ruffle her gown and cape, but somehow not loud enough tohear. Something about it made her want to take a sword to the massivebeing in front of her, but who was she to deny the world of this?

Andthen it happened.

Phoenixcried out and a beam of light shot right towards her, too quickly toavoid. It scorched her chest, painful yet not. She could feel theswirls and intricacies of Phoenix’s brand, letting it become a partof her and she now was of it.

Blurry,hurried images flooded into her mind. Lightning vaguely recalledSerah mentioning Snow’s experience with his fal'cie, that the imagesbecame clearer with mutual understanding.

Butshe and Phoenix had no understanding. She still couldn’t tellwhether she hated it or wanted to give thanks. There was anunderlying buzz of Phoenix not knowing what to make of her, either –just that she was of the bloodline and she could ruleunscathed.

Theimages she saw were most of people she only vaguely recognized fromthe portraits in the palace – memories of her extremely distantancestors. Some were of the stars and moon, extensions of the fal'ciefrom even farther away than this. One image would come, only to beimmediately replaced by another, and she could make no real sense ofthem.

Untilthat moment.

“Hope?!”

Everythingwas still so fast, but now Lightning willed her mind to slow,anything so that she could sort out why Phoenix was showingher images of her personal bodyguard.

Shesaw Hope, handsome as ever, talking to a group of people in a glassbuilding that gleamed with perfection.

Anotherof him in a white and yellow outfit that seemed strangely familiar –but it wasn’t the garb he wore as her bodyguard.

Himtalking to a shorter woman who, again, seemed oddly familiar.

Hiseyes sliding to look at Phoenix.

Hishands working on something that could have been otherworldly, nature,or machine.

Hisgaze on her for a thousand different reasons, most worthy of asecret.

Hisshame as he ran off from her at ball.

Inthat instant, something clicked in Lightning’s mind, though her heartwas pounding and her breath was coming too fast to really sort itout. The images abruptly stopped and the brand on her chest cooled.

“Howdo you expect me to - ”

Shedidn’t get to finish her sentence before there was that sensation offalling again. Phoenix had dismissed her?! She’d survived itsjudgment, but for what?

Therewas no making sense of it. Time had no meaning.

Whenshe stopped falling, Lightning opened her eyes in a daze and emergedfrom the light, a bit surprised to see Sazh, but also -

“Hope,”she whispered, her heart pounding again. It was too much for her bodyand mind. Her knees shook and she pitched forward.

Butlike any good personal bodyguard, Hope raced to her, his eyes widewith panic as he caught her. She settled into his arms so easily –too easily.

“Light,”he said, her name hardly a gasp. His eyes darted to Phoenix’s brand,which was on the left side of her chest, impossible to miss againsther pale skin. “Light, why? Whydid you do it?”

She stared up at him, a thousandimages replaying in her mind in an instant. How could she possiblyput them together in a way that made sense?

But maybe shealready had.

Her hand reached up to shakily brushsome of his bangs from his worried face. Worried for who, shewondered?

“You’re not a bodyguard,” shemurmured.

Theneverything went black.