#my excitement for thirteen knows no limits i am so ready

[bittersweetresilience]

adrien, émilie, home

miraculous ladybug / @anna-scribbles / orbital departure / golden (like daylight) / hearth / thirteen

dedicated to all my brainworms about this family. please read every fic @asukiess and @anna-scribbles have ever written and weep.

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Part 3! Starring Mini Mammon and Mini Asmo!)

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Underground Tomb special Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Part 4

MC names:

Lucifer’s kid=L!MC | Mammon’s kid=M!MC | Asmo’s kid=A!MC

Why did bad things happen to good people? Well... Lucifer being a good person is up to interpretation. He hadn’t done anything too heinous recently, his instruments of torture were collecting dust for goodness sake! So why oh why was he staring down two half demon children who looked suspiciously like two of his brothers?

The first kid to step forward was Mammon’s without a doubt, but their general demeanour was very different from their father’s. Perhaps their other parent had done a good job-

“What the fuck was that?!”

Never mind. The kid had Mammon’s pottymouth.

The other child surveyed the scene with a nervousness that their suspected parent never possessed. The kid’s gaze fell on Lucifer, their eyes began to glow ever so slightly. “Uh-um...” the kid cleared their throat. “Someone explain what’s going on!”

Was this child seriously trying to use manipulation powers on Lucifer? He almost laughed at the mere idea of someone trying. The child didn’t even seem to be aware that they were doing it. When their question was met with blank stares, they instantly shrank back and practically hid behind the first half demon. Despite the severe self-esteem difference, this kid was Asmodeus’.

Lucifer’s own child cleared their throat and smiled. “Welcome to the Devildom!”

The Uncle That Looks Like he Has his Shit Together but he Leaves the Reunion Drunk off his Rocker (Lucifer)

Ah shit here we go again-

Okay- okay. Normally he’d scold L!MC for taking Diavolo’s line, but Dia had recovered from his shock and was now gushing over the new exchange students like an excited puppy.

“Okay... L!MC you’re going to need to share your room.”

“What?! Why?!”

“Unless Belphie is willing to give up the attic as a nap spot-”

“OVER MY DEAD BODY!”

“You’re sharing your room.”

RAD was buzzing with gossip for the entire first month of the second attempt at the exchange program. The threats of being eaten were once again stamped out very quickly.

(Special thanks to L!MC for being a good bodyguard)

Now, Lucifer didn’t exactly know what to expect when it came to the child of his favourite brother. Mammon was a dumbass, but this kid... this kid...

Was smart.

For the first time in Lucifer’s very long life he felt compelled to place someone in a higher echelon than himself.

Mammon’s child managed to successfully budget that dumpster fire of a house. On the first fucking day. Not only that. This kid managed to skim FIVE THOUSAND GRIMM OFF THE TOP AND THE BUDGET STILL WORKED! WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT-

Lucifer and Mammon thanked whatever spirit was watching over them because they truly believed their financial woes were over.

Shame that M!MC also spent their money on dumb stuff they didn’t need. Like father like child.

It’s no secret that Lucifer does have a bit of a soft spot for Asmo, I mean, who doesn’t love Asmo? But A!MC was a blessing sent right from the Celestial Realm.

They were just... too sweet. Way too sweet. Lucifer was actively getting cavities just being near them.

Anyone who bothered A!MC and M!MC during the first month ended up getting... uh... suspended.

(We can assume the threat of suspension would have extended to those who bothered L!MC but all the lesser demons were already terrified of them.)

Normally when Lucifer called someone into his study it was to lecture them for at least four hours and then send them to their rooms, but he was having quite the difficult time actually being upset with M!MC and A!MC.

A!MC looked close to tears and M!MC just stared right back at Lucifer with little to no fear in their eyes.

“Starting a fight during the first week of school is not how I expected the exchange students to behave.” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, and prepared to continue the lecture, when he heard a sniffle. There wasn’t enough Demonus in the entire Devildom...

“I-I’m s—sorry...” A!MC sniffled, quickly wiping at their eyes. “Th-they were being r-really scary and we did-didn’t know what else to do...”

“So you threw them out of a window?”

“I threw them out of the window.” M!MC huffed. “They were bein’ a dick.”

“So you threw them out of a window?”

“That um...” A!MC mumbled. “That’s not all... I may have... told them to stick their head in a toilet first...”

“You made them stick their head in a toilet,” Lucifer turned to M!MC. “And then you threw them out of a window?”

“Yes.” M!MC and A!MC replied. Lucifer downed the rest of his glass of Demonus and debated whether or not it would be a show of weakness to slam his forehead into the desk in front of the children.

Lucifer looked between the two for a moment, then shook his head and sighed. “It’s my job to deal with threats to the exchange students, not yours.” Lucifer stood in front of the two, he rested his hands on their heads and gave them a quick pat, before knocking their heads together. “Next time someone bothers you, tell me. If I hear even a whisper of you two getting into another fight, I’m hanging you from the ceiling. Is that clear?”

A!MC and M!MC looked at each other, then back at Lucifer and nodded. “Yes sir!”

“Good.” Lucifer removed his hand from their heads. “Now shoo.”

Flying lessons for the two of them went way quicker than it did for L!MC, mainly because L!MC was a way better teacher.

As much as Lucifer loved his newly found niblings, he couldn’t show it too much. Outward softness was reserved for L!MC and L!MC only. M!MC and A!MC were stuck with silent acts of affection.

Every once and a while a little present or two would end up in M!MC or A!MC’s possession. Some ice cream money for M!MC when they blew their part of the budget on fancy sunglasses, a multiplayer video game that the three half-demons could play together, new shoes when A!MC accidentally ruined their’s...

He’s a good uncle. A scary uncle. But a good uncle. ^_^

(Don’t tell him I said that, I’m still in trouble for advertising Mammon’s escape Go Fund Me and I don’t want to have to write the rest of this HC hanging upside down.)

He’s Not Like the Other Dads, he’s a Cool Dad! (Mammon)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (Fear)

He’s a dad?! HE’S TO YOUNG TO BE A DAD! Hang on- he’s over five thousand years old...

Oh would you look at that! His kid pulled out a calculator.

...his annual income? Uh... why do you- HEY! WHAT’S WITH THAT FACE?!

M!MC puffed out their cheek as they continued to add the ever growing list of numbers into the calculator. Mammon was trying to get a peak at what they were calculating. M!MC suddenly looked up and practically lit up the room with their smile. Aw, their fangs were growing in!

They had a devilishly charming smile, just like their pop! A real chip off the old block! It almost brought a tear to Mammon’s eye and he actually felt compelled to give this kid all the money he had on him. Maybe even his Rolex too!

“Mammon, Avatar of Greed,” M!MC said sweetly. “My... dad.”

“Yep! That’s uh... that’s me!” Mammon awkwardly ruffled his kid’s hair, the kid laughed good naturedly.

M!MC’s sweet as honey smile flipped from elated to malicious in a manner of nanoseconds. “You owe over thirteen years of child support. Dad.”

Everyone say thank you to Lucifer and Diavolo for getting M!MC to compromise and not try and sue their father.

If you thought Mammon spoiled L!MC you’ve got another thing coming. Mammon’s wallet never stood a chance against his kid.

Poor Goldie, press F to pay respects.

Mammon also tried to teach A!MC and M!MC to drive, M!MC has no regard for their safety, the safety of others, or the laws of the road, buuuuuuuut they manage to get the car back with no dents and no property damage bills are being delivered to the house sooooo...

A!MC can drive fine... it’s just that they adhere to literally every law known to demonkind, which means neither Mammon or Asmo are allowed to open up the sunroof and do that movie thing where they pop their heads out and yell something. ITS NOT SAFE!

Our beloved dummy also tried to teach his kid how to play poker, with... limited success.

“Aw, come on kiddo.” Mammon smirked, flicking his kid on the nose. “Your poker face is awful, I can also see your cards from here.”

M!MC growled and held their cards closer to their face. “My poker face is fine!” It was in fact, not fine.

Mammon scratched his head and thought for a moment. Was he sure that this kid was his? I mean, they weren’t good at poker, had terrible luck in blackjack and roulette, and could barely understand the rules of craps. Craps! While he was lamenting the loss of possible gambling winnings, an idea hit Mammon at a thousand miles an hour.

“Hey kid, you’re damn good at math like your great and amazin’ father, have you ever thought about learnin’ how to count cards?”

Fancy outfits on, hair done (sorta), car ready, the two were off to the casino after quite the intense training montage. It appeared that casinos in the Devildom allowed children inside... Diavolo should really fix that.

“Okay M!MC, you remember what to do, right?”

“Yes. Remember the signal, and if someone catches on, deny deny deny.”

Mammon gave his kid a slap on the back. “Damn straight! You got this, bud.”

As the night dragged on, M!MC and Mammon had made their weight in money, paper money, they had made a SHIT ton is what I’m saying. Tragically, neither the Avatar of Greed or his child had any sense to leave before their luck crashed like the Stock Market in 1929.

They were both Icarus, and they were playing chicken with the sun... and by 3 am they were also playing chicken with security.

“GO GO GO!” Mammon shouted as he and M!MC sprinted towards the car, the night’s winnings in hand.

“I think I lost a shoe!” M!MC gasped as they scrambled into the car, security on their heels.

“I’ll buy you new shoes JUST PUT ON YOUR SEATBELT!”

Re-enacting every Fast and the Furious movie in twenty minutes was how that lovely night of father/child bonding should have ended... until they got home and realized they were locked out.

“The window to my room!” M!MC whispered, pointing up at their window. “It’s usually unlocked, we can climb up to get to it.”

“Good idea!”

M!MC tucked the bag full of their precious money under their arm and began the climb to their window, their father close behind. They had almost made it, they were so close, M!MC could literally touch the window-

The window swung open and the smiling faces of L!MC and A!MC greeted them.

“Oh my, it looks like we have some delinquents breaking curfew~.” L!MC cooed, resting their head on their hand.

“You shouldn’t be gambling this late! A-and your accessories don’t match!” A!MC huffed.

“Oi! L!MC, A!MC! What are ya doin’ up this late! It’s not good for ya!” Mammon whisper-yelled.

“My sleep schedule should be the least of your concerns right now, right A!MC?” L!MC elbowed A!MC, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yep! Those who break curfew are hung from the ceiling by their toes.” A!MC shuddered.

M!MC rolled their eyes and stuck out their hand. “Come on L!MC! Let us in! You should listen to your older cousin!”

Upon hearing M!MC pull the older cousin card L!MC smiled deviously, grabbing both of M!MC’s hands. “Of course, dear cousin.” They leaned in. “Long live the king!”

L!MC shoved M!MC downward, Mammon caught them, but lost his own grip and they both lost hold of the money, which fell out of the bag and onto the ground like snow. Paper snow...

Oh well, at least Mammon and M!MC landed in some of the bushes...

“Ya know,” Mammon said as the money fell around them. “I’ve had dreams where this has happened.”

“Wow,” M!MC smiled. “Me too!”

Yep. This was his kid alright.

Not all his father/kid time revolved around money, it also revolved around both of them trying to avoid horror movie night without making it look like they were chickening out.

“Okay, I’ll fake a medical emergency!”

“Kid, no! They’ll never believe that!”

Since A!MC had their father’s eye for fashion and none of the judgemental comments, the kid became Mammon’s unofficial style coach.

“U-um... I hate to say it but those shoes don’t match with the rest of the outfit, the silhouette is confusing...”

“What’re ya talkin’ about? I look fantastic!”

“Are you blind? You look like a thrift store threw up on you.”

“Who invited you, Asmo?!”

“I’m here to support A!MC! You’re doing great by the way, sweetie!”

He may have cried a little when M!MC was able to fly without help... sniffle... they grow up so fast...

Oh- oh fuck they both crashed into the tree-

Oh My God he Actually Showed Up?! (Levi)

That... that couldn’t be real life! A shut-in’s worst nightmare! More people he needed to talk to!

Considering Mammon and Asmo’s track record with taking care of his things, Levi was incredibly hesitant to invite the two to binge anime with him and L!MC.

It seemed that the two normies inherited their fathers’s level of respect for closed doors. What I’m saying is the two crashed anime night.

“I have never seen such bullshit before.”

M!MC’s hands were stuffed in about five pairs of socks each, effectively turning their hands into useless nubs.

“You be quiet! This is to make sure that you don’t take any of my things and try and sell them on Akuzon!” Levi hissed, turning back to make sure his figurines were safe from the mini Mammon. A!MC was standing awkwardly next to L!MC, who was sitting in Levi’s gaming chair reading manga.

“So what are we going to watch..?” A!MC piped up. “I haven’t really watched much anime but I did watch Digimon...”

“I was more of a Beyblade kid.” M!MC hit their sock-stumps together to make a thumping noise.

Levi looked like he was ready to have a stroke. “L-listen! Those are gateway anime! You two need to watch proper anime! Non-dubbed anime!”

A!MC let out a shriek and stared at their reflection in a very shiny looking gundam figurine. “Have I been wearing off colour lip gloss the entire day?! O-oh no... I’m a mess!”

Levi let out a strangled wail and snatched the gundam out of A!MC’s hands. “D-don’t touch that! It’s worth more than a house!”

“It is?!” M!MC perked up and tried to wrestle their way out of their sock-gloves.

“Don’t make me stick you in a straight jacket...” Levi growled. He turned to L!MC with a pleading look on his face. “Please make them stop...”

L!MC grinned deviously and closed their book. “Of course I’ll help you, if we watch season two of The Promised Neverland.”

Levi shrieked and nearly pulled out his hair then and there. “It’s manga divergent! MANGA DIVERGENT! THEY SKIPPED SO MANY ARCS!”

M!MC and A!MC continued to wreak both purposeful and accidental havoc on Levi’s room, he was just about ready to summon Lotan then and there when L!MC shrugged.

“The ball’s in your court, Levi.” L!MC leaned back in the chair and resumed reading their manga.

Levi’s willpower shattered the moment he heard something fall off one of his cabinets. “WE CAN WATCH WHATEVER YOU WANT JUST MAKE THEM STOOOOOP!”

Quick as a flash, L!MC was out of the chair and had both M!MC and A!MC by the ears.

“HEY!” L!MC growled. “STOP ACTING LIKE IDIOTS OR SO HELP ME GRANDFATHER YOU TWO WON’T LIVE TO SEE GRADUATION!”

M!MC and A!MC became the most well behaved children in the Devildom after that... and L!MC and Levi got to watch their anime in peace.

Okay, Levi wasn’t heartless, he loved his lame normie niblings. They were just very very loud...

Though, M!MC was very good at finding merch for way lower prices... and A!MC actually really liked some of the anime they watched... Maybe they weren’t so bad.

M!MC’s attempts to budget that financial dumpster fire of an otaku was not going well, at least until M!MC convinced Lucifer to dangle concert tickets in front of Levi like a carrot on a stick until he agreed to do his best to stay within the monthly budget.

Levi had learned his lesson from L!MC’s flying lessons and steered clear of them, but luck was not on his side. The ONE time he willingly stepped outside of the house...

Both M!MC and A!MC crashed right into him.

The Uncle With the Cat You Never See and Aren’t Really Allowed to Pet. (Satan)

Oh fuck him sideways the house was going to be so much louder... Say goodbye to his quiet reading time...

On the bright side, the look of pure disbelief and exhaustion on Lucifer’s face gave Satan the biggest rush of serotonin he’d ever had in his life.

To be honest, he got on well with Asmo, and he... well it’s Mammon.

Could have been worse.

Could have been ANOTHER child of Lucifer.

“So... who do you think did it?” M!MC asked as the opening to the fourth episode of the murder documentary they were watching began. “I think it was the sister.”

“On what evidence do you make that assumption?” Satan asked.

M!MC shrugged. “Chick’s shifty.”

“I um... I think they disappeared on their own accord.” A!MC murmured. “I mean, so far it seemed the two’s home lives sucked...”

“Good theory.” Satan nodded to himself. “But both of you are wrong, it was very clearly the mother and the neighbour.”

“On what evidence do you make that assumption?” L!MC asked, imitating Satan’s voice. Detective Toe Beans was sprawled out on their lap.

Satan glowered at L!MC and leaned over to scratch Bean behind the ears. “The step-mother and neighbour are backing up each other’s alibis and they have a motive, access to a possible murder weapon, and a way of disposing of the corpses.”

L!MC rolled their eyes. “That’s a load of crap. It was just the step-mother. The mother had the motive, she and the father were on the outs, she wanted the father’s inheritance all to herself so she got rid of his kids.”

“How many more episodes of this are there?” M!MC asked. “This seems like a really dragged out way of just saying: I don’t know.”

“Sh! They’re explaining possible corpse disposal methods!” Satan hissed.

The four of them traded theories until the documentary series eventually ended with an unsatisfying ‘we dunno’.

“This is such shit...” M!MC muttered. “How have they managed to fill eight episodes with all these leads and evidence and the case is still unsolved?!”

“It’s because everyone involved was incompetent and stupid.” Satan sighed.

“You know,” L!MC smirked. “With all the true crime stuff the four of us watch, we could create the perfect crime.”

“We really could.” M!MC nodded in agreement.

“Using A!MC’s powers no one would suspect us...” Satan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Uh...” A!MC shifted uncomfortably. “On an unrelated note... I’m going to go...”

As A!MC scampered out of the room, L!MC turned to Satan and M!MC.

“There’s always the one weak person in the group who’s not down with murder.”

“A sad truth.”

“Hang on I thought we were talking about theft or something-”

Satan and M!MC are surprising study buddies, hell, they even help Mammon study. Or... it’s more accurate to say that they try to help Mammon study.

A!MC is good company, they’re quiet when they read, unlike most people in the house who felt the need to provide commentary on every single event that occurs in the book.

After proving to be quite useless in L!MC’s flight lessons, he just reminded the two new half demons to wear protective padding.

The Hot Single Dad That’s In Every Romcom That Features a Child (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (excitement)

Oh... his... father... HE WAS A DILF NOW-

He practically vaulted out of his seat to coo and fuss over his new found hellspawn, they were just SO CUTE!

Their wings were just like his! So adorable! Oh and those little horns! They were so cute Asmo just might have combusted then and there.

Of course, he couldn’t combust without finding out which of his flings had made such an adorably shy mini-him.

“Ah! I remember that party!” Asmo squee-ed as he looked at a picture of A!MC’s parent. “They looked so hot in that outfit I swear I was completely-”

“Asmodeus.” Lucifer grumbled. “That’s a child in front of you.”

“Oh! Right! Mind if I call your ren, A!MC?” Asmo asked, ruffling their kid’s hair. “I want to see if they remember me fondly!”

As Asmo chattered with A!MC’s parent about just how adorable and perfect their kid turned out, Asmo leaned over to A!MC to ask a question.

“A!MC, I know this is sudden but how do you feel about getting a sib-”

“ASMODEUS IF YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE I WILL FEED YOU TO CERBERUS!”

“Tsk. Rude.”

It’s safe to say Asmo adores his kid. I mean, they’re 50% him, how could he not.

He didn’t exactly have experience with the whole... being a big part of his kids’s life thing. Sure he held the unofficial record for most kids but that was because effective birth control hadn’t been invented at the time when he was allowed to run rampant in the human world, not because he was an A+ dad.

None of that mattered! He was going to be a 10/10 dad to A!MC!

They were so shy... so... mouse-like...

“Um... dad?” A!MC awkwardly twiddled there thumbs as they stood in the doorway to their father’s room. The sweet smell of whatever essential oil was being spread with the diffuser did next to nothing to calm the poor half-demon’s nerves.

Asmo popped his head out of his walk-in closet with a sparkling smile. “Yes, child of mine?”

“I um, just wanted to ask...” A!MC was desperately trying to stave off an oncoming stutter-spiral. “H-h-how- *ahem* how do- ugh...”

A!MC steeled their face and straightened their posture.

“How do I be confident like you?!” They blurted that out a little too loud for comfort, but Asmo’s near-immediate joy quashed any embarrassment A!MC was feeling.

“You want to be like little ol’ me?” Asmo gushed, clearly trying to hide just how flattered he was. “Well, of course you do! Your dad’s got your back. So first what we’re going to do-”

The Avatar of Lust had done the stereotypical early 2000s movie makeover many times before, but never with so much enthusiasm. His kid’s style was fine, it wasn’t a lack of pizazz either, it was the lack of confidence in the pizazz.

“Okay, now stand up straight.”

A!MC straightened their back as much as they could.

“Perfect! Chin up, shoulders back, and there you go!”

A!MC didn’t look too different on account that Asmo felt like their fashion sense was perfect, but dear not-old dad coached MC on a new walk, better posture, and Asmo filled their arms with about seven boxes of self-care supplies.

“What’s all this for?” A!MC asked, shifting the weight of the boxes slightly so they could actually see their dad.

“That, A!MC, is all the stuff you need to have confidence.” Asmo explained. “It’s not required of course, but it sure does help.”

“I’m not sure I follow...”

“Oh sweetie, it’s simple really. When you take care of yourself, you feel better, and when you feel better, you look better, and when you look better and feel better, your confidence skyrockets!” Asmo shifted some of the boxes A!MC was carrying around so they could stand up straighter and not be held down by the weight of the self-care arsenal. “Good posture stops your back from hurting, dressing decently helps you feel better about your appearance, as does taking care of your skin, aaaaaand all this will culminate in you being your best!”

A!MC still looked a bit skeptical, but they nodded anyway.

“Remember MC!” Asmo said as he led MC back to their room to help them sort their new stuff. “Confidence in yourself doesn’t happen overnight, so don’t let Mammon try and sell you a fix-all potion because it’s just boiled Gatorade.”

“O-okay- wait did you just say-”

“Yes, boiled Gatorade.” Asmo shuddered. “Let’s not talk about that.”

Dear uncle Asmo? A financial dumpster fire?! It’s more likely than you’d think.

Sure, Asmo’s got a job and makes his own money, but Geez Louise... one demon does not need that much hand cream! Or that many questionable Akuzon packages that everyone is too afraid to touch...

M!MC had their work cut out for them is what I’m trying to say.

Of course... once M!MC realized what a lost cause getting Asmo to stop with the obsessive bath bomb purchases was and a few too many insults were thrown at M!MC’s dear dad... some of Asmo’s things went uh... “missing”

But would you look at that! No one went over-budget!

Even though their dads have a fierce party related rivalry, A!MC and M!MC get along great. It’s very wholesome.

The Uncle That Helps You Pester Whoever is in Charge of the Food at the Family Reunion About Dessert (Beel)

Yay! More kids :)

Do you think any of them know how to cook? No? Okay... :(

Beel adores his new niblings with all his heart and soul, and Belphie’s out of the attic and is able to meet them with everyone else this time! Yay!

I didn’t mention this in the other parts- but Beel totally gave L!MC piggyback rides whenever they asked, but now that two more kids have arrived... it’s now a fight to be tall.

But yea- kids like uncle Beel. Strong contender for favourite uncle.

“Do you think this is right?” A!MC asked as they fiddled with the settings on the stovetop.

“No clue. Do we put the cheese on while the meat is cooking or do we wait until after?” M!MC asked, they flipped through multiple cheeseburger recipes on their DDD, their frustration growing. “Hang on- do we have a deep fryer?”

A!MC rummaged around the cupboards and shelves for a good fifteen minutes and came back empty handed. “No, but I’ve seen videos of people making fries without a deep fryer, I think we just need to heat up vegetable oil and drop the potatoes in.”

After setting up the make-shift deep fryer, the two cousins carefully dropped the first fry into the oil, then screamed like banshees when some oil splashed close to their hands.

“Did you get burned?!” M!MC asked, A!MC shook their head.

“No, you?”

“Nah...” M!MC eyed the oil warily. “We should do this one at a time to be safe...”

It was an awkward process, grab potato, place potato, scream, make sure no one is burned, repeat. As... decent as the process was, with both of them manning the deep fryer, no one was manning the patties that were now completely charred.

“What’s going on in here? It smells like Solomon’s cooking.” Beel poked his head into the kitchen and saw two very upset children and the world’s messiest kitchen.

“We’re failures. That’s all...” M!MC murmured.

“We wanted to make lunch for all of us and we ruined it...” A!MC added.

Beel’s heart was set to explode then and there- but his stomach growled. “You tried your best, don’t feel too bad. Let’s get cheeseburgers somewhere else with Belphie.”

M!MC and A!MC nodded enthusiastically as the three of them left the destroyed kitchen behind them.

After Beel had to sling a sleeping Belphie over his shoulder, the now four of them were halfway out the door before they heard L!MC scream bloody murder.

“YOU IDIOTS COME BACK HERE AND CLEAN THIS MESS UP RIGHT NOW!”

M!MC and A!MC made eye contact, then sprinted out the door. “CHEESEBURGERS FIRST!”

A!MC and M!MC probably go to all of Beel’s games like the little super fans they are. Beel is very grateful for the support! :D

Flying lessons? Nnnnnot again. He’s here for moral support and moral support only. And to catch the two babs when they inevitably fall.

The Uncle Who Was Like... Really Racist the Last Time You Saw Him But He’s Not Anymore (Belphie)

So he uh... he didn’t try and kill these two. That already gave the two newbies a better first impression than what he gave to L!MC.

The Anti Lucifer league ALSO grew, just by one member though. A!MC was very easily persuaded to snitch on whatever prank the group concocted.

The attic nap club gained two new members, but Belphie still had to deal with wings hitting him in the face and waking him up. He’d usually return the favour with a swat from his tail.

“M!MC I swear I will throw you out of the window if you kick me again.” Belphie murmured, mashing his face into his pillow.

“Mmmph.” M!MC threw a pillow in Belphie’s direction.

“Quit whining, Belphie.” L!MC huffed. “You’re doing better than me.”

A!MC had attached themselves to L!MC like a sloth to a tree and would not let go or stop drooling. Ah schadenfreude, the best feeling in the galaxy...

“Stop with that look.” L!MC hissed, Belphie snickered. “I’m telling you to quit it because you’ll wake up Beel, and Beel is solving your M!MC problem.”

Belphie turned to see Beel practically crush M!MC into a bone breaking hug in his sleep.

“Should we do something about that?” L!MC yawned.

Belphie smirked his little douchebag smirk. “Eh, let them stew for a few more minutes.”

“Help me...” M!MC rasped.

Out of the three, A!MC is probably the best nap buddy, they bring in their own pillows and don’t hog the blankets.

Belphie is once again at the forefront for taking videos of the flying lessons, at least till M!MC accidentally broke Belphie’s DDD.

Just a friendly reminder, the sleepy cow man would kill for these kids.

Look at them funny and no one will find your body.

Okay! That’s part 3 done! I had to cut Belphie’s and Satan’s short because of post limit stuff, but the stuff with the side characters is coming soon! Also, Mammon would like me to inform all those who donated to his Go Fund Me that you will NOT be getting your money back, he has a kid to deck out in full Gucci now, he needs the cash!

[soulmate-game]

Can you do a prompt of Marinette being the daughter of the Joker and Harley but Harley left him before Marinette was born and when Joker found out about his daughter He decided to kidnap Marinette so she can become like him (Ace chemicals) (Daminette)

Woot, my first ask in a while! Let’s see how I can do this oddly specific ask that reminds me of a fic that might actually exist but tbh I’ve read so many fanfics idk if my brain is remembering right

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette knew Sabine and Tom weren’t her biological parents. She had known ever since she was eight, when her mother by blood visited her for the first time, sat her down, and explained everything. Including, but not limited to, her disastrously toxic past relationship, her new girlfriend, and her recent success with long term rehab (unofficial rehab that mostly consisted of illegal anti-hero actions, but hey if it worked it worked).

Marinette understood. Well no, she really didn’t since she was only eight, but she understood that her mom— that Harley— was genuine. She had always had a knack for emotions and telling when people were sincere or not. And Harley really was regretful about not being in her life beforehand, and was serious about wanting to be part of her life now that her own was mostly sorted out.

So Marinette was not surprised when Harley really did stick it out. When Harley cooed over Marinette copying her hairstyle to show her support of her biological mom, when Harley never failed to call at least once a week even if she was in jail for punching some asshole or another. Harley never stayed arrested long anymore, she was usually found to be on the right side of the moral scale more and more often so the police didn’t bother keeping her locked up anymore. Through the years, Marinette always looked forward to her mom’s calls. Looked forward to being lulled to sleep by one crazy story or another from her mother’s past. Everything was nice. Perfect, even, for a while.

A thump sounded from her balcony, one late night when Marinette was thirteen. Blinking, the dark haired girl furrowed her brows. Who would be on her balcony? Cautiously walking towards the trap door leading to it, grasping her metal pencil holder as a weapon (she remembered all of her Mom’s stories about break-ins and random attacks back in Gotham), the teen strained her ears. Akuma attacks were only a few months old now, but she had already become in high alert for any sign of Hawkmoth or his victims. As per usual, Marinette’s paranoia began to kick in. Did Hawkmoth already figure her out? Was he here for her earrings? Would she be able to fight him?

She gently pushed up the trap door, catching a glimpse of black leather. Huh? Marinette narrowed her eyes, confused. Was it Chat? He should have been on patrol, on the other side of the city. What was he doing visiting her?

Suddenly the trap door yanked the rest of the way open, making Marinette yelp as the handle for it rugged away from her fingers. And there, backlit by the pure blue-white moonlight, was Not Chat Noir. It was Catwoman, in all her skintight black leather glory, grinning at her before pushing her cat-eye goggles up to the top of her head and crouching down by the trap door’s entrance, balancing only on the pads of her feet.

“Well hello there~” the woman purred. “So you’re the cute little kitten Harley is so secretive about. Nice to finally meet you,” the woman held out a hand, sending Marinette a sweet, if mysterious, smile. For a while, the pigtailed girl only stared before a squeal of excitement left her throat, leaving very little room for any doubt as to her bloodline. A large smile curled over Marinette’s lips, leaving her beaming widely at the catlike woman on her balcony.

“Auntie Selina! Mom’s told me so much about you! Come in, come in, come in! I’ll sneak some macaroons up for you. Or do you prefer croissants? What’s your favorite flavor? Are you really dating Batman? Oh my goodness, that necklace is so lovely! Did you steal it?”

Selina could only chuckle fondly at the word vomit, letting the smaller girl drag her down the trap door and into her very… pink room. Looking around, Selina was once again slapped with just how similar this kid was to her outgoing friend. Marinette clearly had no shame in indulging in the things she liked, such as the color pink and anything regarding fashion. But there were other things amongst the girliness of the room, like the posters of Jagged Stone and the training dummy half-sticking out of her closet door. There were a few ornamental knives hung up behind her computer, seemingly just for decoration although Selina could see that they were definitely battle ready and sharpened. A small mallet, clearly a miniature replica of her mother’s own signature weapon, leaned up against the side of the girl’s laundry basket. But then there was Marinette’s mannequin, which was surrounded by meticulously cut pieces of cloth and had other pieces pinned to it strategically. Marinette clearly had the same professionalism and love for her chosen career that had so completely defined Harley in the Time Before Joker. The same genius intellect hiding in those deceptively cheerful bluebell eyes. And for the first time, though not for the last to be sure, Selina found herself thoroughly relieved that it seemed Marinette had inherited very little from her father.

Except, as she would learn from stories Harley told her later, an apparent affinity for chaos.

“I’m not that picky, kitten. But I’m not that hungry, so don’t go too out of your way,” Selina decided to just react the same way she did with Harley’s rambles, and answer one question at a time. “Also, I am actually dating Bruce Wayne. But, if you promise not to tell anyone—“ she waited for Marinette’s eager nod before continuing casually, “— the two are maybe not as mutually exclusive as many think,” Selina finished with a conspiratorial wink. “No, I actually did not steal this necklace. Bruce has been adamant in trying to curb me of my thieving habit by buying me almost everything I so much as glance at sideways. It’s sweet. Naive, because I like stealing for the fun of it, but sweet.”

Marinette giggled, bouncing in place happily. She loved a bit of innocent gossip like this. “Is Momma Ivy ever gonna visit? I don’t think Mom told her much about me yet, and I still gotta give her the shovel talk!” the fierce look that overcame Marinette’s face made Selina laugh again. Oh yes, definitely her mother’s daughter.

“Pam has been trying to sneak over, but the laws regarding Metahumans in Paris suddenly got much stricter a few months back and have caused some problems. You wouldn’t happen to know what happened, would you?” Selina did not miss when her seemingly innocent question caused her niece to close off almost instantly. Bluebell eyes took on a familiar guardedness, and scanned her with the same soul-searching intensity that Harley had when she was channeling her Psychiatrist side. Selina found herself in a slightly concerning spot though—

Because she couldn’t predict Marinette at all. She was left to simply stand there as Marinette searched for some unidentifiable thing in her eyes, completely unable to read the younger girl’s face and with no idea of what to expect. The side effect of having chaos so thoroughly entwined in both of her biological parents, she supposed.

“Nope, no idea.”

Selina knew that was a lie, but knew equally as well that she would not be getting a better answer anytime soon. So, she let it go and the two of them once again dipped into innocent chatter.

Later that night, when Selina left and the sun threatened to rise at any minute, Tikki flew up from her hiding spot under Marinette’s pillow to land on her holder’s shoulder. Marinette giggled and looked over at her little friend.

“Tikki?”

“Yes, Mari?”

“Why was I chosen to be your holder?” She asked suddenly, flopping back into her bed and staring at her ceiling. The little goddess hummed, smiling knowingly before flying down to cuddle in the crook of Marinette’s neck.

“Because you are born from luck itself. Even when bad things happen, you have the luck and determination to get out just fine, and stronger than before. And despite the destruction and anarchy in your blood, you have the willpower to reign it in and keep control of yourself. That’s all order really is, Marinette. The decision to take all the chaos and madness around us, and make it make sense. Make it do something good. And that’s a large part of who you are, I could feel it in your soul the moment we first met.”

Marinette closed her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. “What if I lose control?”

“... You’ll just have to get it back. It’ll be hard, but as long as you have people to support you, you will be able to do it. You aren’t evil, Marinette,” the small God seemed to sense the true question her holder was asking, and did her best to soothe the doubt the girl felt. “Just remember the reasons you fight against chaos. Remember everyone you love, and you’ll be okay. And you have me, I’ll always help you.”

“... thank you, Tikki.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“He’s going to find out, Mom.”

“No he won’t, don’t be silly! I’ve been very careful about hiding you from him, Nettie-pie.”

“Mom… I just have a bad feeling. I don’t think we can hide who I am from him. If he sees me, I think he’ll know.”

The phone went silent.

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him. If I was crazy about him, Sugar, then I’m head over heels for you. Not even he can stop me from caving his skull in if he tries his usual tricks with you.”

“... My plane leaves soon, I’ll talk to you when I land. And mom?”

“Yeah, honeycake?”

“I love you.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was uncanny just how often Marinette’s hunches were right. Her intuition was something to behold, truly, because it only took three days in Gotham before Joker snatched her right out of her room at Harley and Ivy’s apartment. At least Marinette had sixteen by then, so she had had enough experience as a hero in Paris and with generally unpredictable situations and people who were absolutely nuts for her to not immediately panic. Too much, anyway.

Because there was definitely a little panic there.

See, Marinette knew herself inside out by then. After her own battle with her toxic feelings towards Adrien and doing her best to heal from those before she turned out like her mom, she knew she was by no means mentally indestructible. Mental illness ran the high risk of being inherited, and Marinette was well aware that her own personality was scarily similar to her mother’s at times. She got attached quickly, felt affection and love for others very strongly and, as she found with Adrien, could easily become obsessive if she didn’t watch herself. At least Harley was the perfect person to help with that, and Marinette was serious about helping herself too. She did everything she could to keep an eye on her mental health and keep her behavior in check so she didn’t do anything too unhealthy with her relationships again.

But she knew, she knew she had a soft spot for family. She got attached too easily. And being in the same room as her biological father, despite being tied up by her hands and feet and knowing just how many unforgivable things he had done in his life, Marinette felt vulnerable. She didn’t want to hurt him, despite everything. She still loved him, despite every reason not to, despite her first meeting with him being with him shoving chloroform over her face and hogtying her to a metal chain dangling over a vat of acid.

Geez, she’d need more than just her mom as a therapist after this for sure. Even if her mom had a PH.D, Marinette felt like she’d need several psychiatrists to sort through her emotional turmoil right then and make sense of any of it.

Marinette licked her lips, aware that the only kindness that Joker gave his daughter was sparing her from the discomfort of being gagged.

“Don’t,” Marinette said, surprising herself with the amount of steel she was able to put into her voice. Somehow, she managed to make the single word sound more like an order than a plead. “Joker, put me—“

“Ah-Ah-Ah!” The clown walked over, tutting and waving his finger in the air in almost playful admonishment. He gave her a dramatically fake pout. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to refer to your father by his first name?” Neither of them mentioned that Joker was definitely not his real name. They both knew the point was moot. “Say it with me now— ‘Daddy dearest, I am more than willing to be dunked in acid for you,’ go ahead, say it.”

Marinette’s jaw clenched. Familial love or not, she would not tolerate being ridiculed like that. She dealt with enough ridicule when she was fourteen and fifteen during school, before she put Liar Rossi in her place. She had spent the past three years as a hero in charge of the war against Hawkmoth, in charge of protecting all of Paris from an emotional terrorist.

And gee, wasn’t that what Joker was, too? Sure, he was a terrorist in the classic meaning of the word as well, but he was nothing if not a skilled manipulator. He knew the human mind just as well as Harley or any other psychiatrist did, he just used his knowledge for different means. He had emotionally abused Harley for years, he emotionally abused and manipulated people all across gotham on a daily basis. He was just another Hawkmoth, but with more physical violence in place of magic.

With these thoughts strengthening her resolve, Marinette narrowed her eyes at the man who donated half of her DNA. She let her anger boil into her irises, hitting him with one of the few traits she knew she inherited from him.

Her ability to intimidate others on the tip of a hat.

“No,” she growled back at him. She took a deep breath. It had taken her a while, but she refused to be ashamed of who she was regardless of her blood relation. She would have no problem using the very things she inherited from Joker against him. She might have gotten most of Harley’s personality, she might have inherited her mother’s habit of falling in love hard, fast, and obsessively, but she also had Joker’s defiance. His bone-deep inability to be stopped from doing exactly whatever the fuck he wanted.

And then, there were Marinette’s own traits. The ones that were completely her own, developed over her life organically. Like her refusal to bow down to bullies, her creativity, her ability to take even the most chaotic situation and see some sort of balance and sanity in it that she could use to her advantage.

That she WOULD use to her advantage. The shadows she saw move out of the corner of her eye gave her the chance to do exactly that, she just needed to buy a few more seconds. Just a few more seconds.

“Excuse me?” Joker growled right back, his own intimidation, honed over more years than Marinette had been alive and thus much more potent than her own, reading its ugly head as he stalked towards her. His face was pulled down into an ugly snarl, his shoulders tensed and back straight as he glared right at her. From his spot on the metal walkway, he was easily able to reach over the railing and grab her chin in one pale, viciously strong hand. “I think you’re misunderstanding something here, little Marionette. I’m your father. Half of your life came directly from ME. That makes you my puppet. You exist to follow my orders,” his right grip suddenly let go, leaving behind the beginnings of a bruise as his entire demeanor changed from angry to cheerful. He spread his arms as if gesturing to the whole chemical plant victoriously, and an unnaturally large smile curved over his lips and bared yellowing teeth at her. “But that’s okay. I’ll forgive you this time, you haven’t learned any better yet. That’s why we’re here. We need to cleanse you of all those icky bad habits you’ve learned up until now, all you need is a little,” he bounced in place with a wicked smirk to illustrate his next words— “jumpstart. A little acid goes a long way to enlightenment you know, you’ll see my side of things in no time. And with my blood in you, you’ll make a better sidekick than that idiot Harley ever did. I can sense it, you’ve got a real talent for Chaos in you, it’s exciting, Heheeeheheee! Now then, we should probably speed things along before our family reunion is cut short. Hang in there, my little Marionette,” the man actually had the gall to spin in place while humming a tune cheerfully before all but dancing over to the lever that held Marinette’s length of chain in the air over the vat of chemicals below her. “Everything will clear up in that little head of yours in just a second!”

There! Right as Joker pulled the switch to lower her into the bubbling vat underneath her, Marinette was able to finish untying her hands. She couldn’t contain a small yelp as gravity flung her body forward, leaving her upside down on the chain for a brief moment. That was when the chain started lowering rapidly, and Marinette was barely able to rip the rope off of her ankles in time to swing off of it and onto the metal walkway that came up right next to the giant metal container of liquid death and insanity. Joker had barely enough time to shout in rage before the windows near the ceiling shattered, admitting the city’s vigilantes themselves. Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, Robin, and evening Black Bat all landed on the same metal platform above Marinette’s head that Joker was still on, buying the teen time to start running. But she didn’t go towards the exit right away, instead heading right up the stairs into the thick of the fight. Robin briefly separated from where Joker was managing to hold his own, goons flooding from side doors to inhibit the heroes in their attempt to bring their boss down.

The katana-using vigilante kept one eye on Marinette the whole time, suspicious of why the girl would come back up if not to help her father. But that wasn’t what she did, instead she flipped and kicked and punched her way through the quickly growing sea of Joker thugs until she reached a small pink purse that had been abandoned near the lever that had nearly sent her into liquid insanity. Three thugs surrounded her right as she snatched the purse up and slung it over her shoulder, but Robin barely had the chance to head over before she was heaving the men, who were all easily three times her size, over her shoulder and was slamming elbows into soft spots and the side of her hand into pressure points. By the time Robin got to her side, all three men were unconscious and bound to wake up in utter agony.

Marinette glanced up, getting ready to haul Robin over her shoulder as well before she realized who he was. She let her shoulders relax just a tick, sighing in relief before returning her eyes to scanning their surroundings. She shot him a brief grin.

“Good thing my adoptive mother, Mom, Momma Ivy, and Auntie Selina all made sure I knew how to take down a small army on my own, huh?” She asked rhetorically before they were both unceremoniously dragged back into the giant brawl.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Nettie-pie!”

“Marigold!”

Harley and Pamela Quinzel-Isley shoved down anyone and everyone who dared block their direct path to their daughter. The girl of the hour stood next to the bat clan, a shock blanket held tightly around her shoulders as she did her best to finish her statement to both the vigilantes and Commissioner Gordon.

“You untied yourself… from a ship-grade knot in high quality rope… with a phone charm?” They heard Gordon ask incredulously, to which Marinette could only give a lopsided smile. That was when her mom and stepmom crashed into her, enveloping her in a nearly suffocating hug.

“Gah— mom— momma Ivy—“ Marinette flailed in their arms for a bit before finally getting her head free and continuing her statement as if she didn’t have two of the most dangerous women in the city still giving her a bone crushing hug. “That’s better. Yes, Commissioner. You see, I realized when I was in the car with Joker, while I was pretending to still be unconscious, that one of the charms on my phone had pretty sharp corners that I could use like a serrated edge if I had enough time. So I carefully detached it from my phone, and held it in my palm. It took almost an hour, but once Joker noticed I was awake I kept him talking so that he didn’t notice what I was doing even as he tied me up to that chain. Really, it’s just lucky that I was able to get it worn down in time,” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck with a nervous chuckle. “But regardless, I think Batman and his partners,” she nodded to the listening vigilantes just to the side of her. “Were close enough that I would have been caught anyway, I just wanted to make sure they had less work to do. The sooner I freed myself, the sooner ‘Daddy Dearest,’” she grimaced as she mockingly used the same term Joker had tried to get her to say earlier that night. “Could go back behind bars where he belongs.”

“Oh my little Nettie-cake,” Harley cried, finally pulling back from the hug long enough to wipe her cheeks. It was clear that she had been crying for a while, and her colorful pigtails were mussed and tangled from where she must have been tugging on them in worry. “You were right. I’m so sorry, I never should have let you come to Gotham when I knew he was out of Arkham.”

Marinette was quick to shake her head frantically, pulling her arms out of Ivy’s hold so she could grasp Harley’s shoulders firmly. “No. No, Mom, I’m fine! And besides, we knew I couldn’t stay secret forever. I really like staying with you and Momma Ivy! Everything turned out fine though, and he’s headed back to Arkham. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Nettle,” Pam argued, distracting herself by running her hands through Marinette’s bangs. She had only known the girl for two years, but that was more than long enough for her to consider the teenager as her own. “He took you right out from under our noses. You were supposed to be safe in our home, and he still got to you. That’s not okay. We weren’t able to protect you like we should have been. Maybe you should go back to Paris early.”

“What?! No way!” Marinette argued, eyes wide. “This is the first time I’ve been able to ever visit you guys in Gotham, I’m not letting some psycho sperm donor keep me from enjoying time with my family! I came here knowing full well that it was dangerous. I’m not gonna just run away after one bad experience.”

Harley snorted, and then devolved into uncontrollable giggles. “Heh— psycho sperm donor. Good one, sugar!”

Marinette smiled and rolled her eyes good naturedly at her mom’s usual immature antics. Seeing as Gordon had walked away muttering to himself a short while ago, Marinette pulled herself the rest of the way away from her moms and turned to the vigilantes. Without a second’s pause, she bowed to them just like her Maman Sabine taught her.

“Thank you for helping save me. I know it’s probably a shock that I’ve been kept secret from you guys all this time, but I hope you don’t lump me in with the likes of the green-haired half of my DNA. I’m staying with my Moms in their apartment, if you guys decide to patrol by our place like I suspect, I’ll leave some baked goods and coffee out for you on our patio. It’s the least I can do for you all after tonight. And don’t be too hard on Auntie Selina. Me and Mom swore her to secrecy, even from you guys.”

Batman jerked a little at the mention of Catwoman’s real name, jaw twitching for a second. Behind his cowl, his eyes narrowed. Marinette laughed, easily reading his body language and expression.

“She never told me who you are, but she didn’t exactly hide it either. It was easy to put the last pieces together on my own. But don’t worry, SHE swore me to secrecy too. I won’t tell anyone.

“How the hell are you related to the Laughing Asswipe from Hell?” Red Hood blurted out, his confusion clear even from behind his hideous helmet. Marinette burst into giggles, and both Pamela and Harley smiled knowingly.

“Mom gave me up for adoption when I was born, so I spent my whole life in Paris up until now,” she admitted. “Mom didn’t visit me for the first time until I was eight, and she and my adoptive parents are so awesome that it must’ve suffocated the worst traits from his DNA before they had a chance to develop,” she guessed out loud with a good natured smile.

Batman grunted. Marinette knew that one run-in wasn’t enough for them to trust her. After all, she was still the biological daughter of their arch enemy. But she didn’t mind, she understood the caution even if she didn’t fully agree with it. They weren’t outright hostile, despite the fact that Robin had never stopped glaring at her since they fought back-to-back against the mob of thugs earlier. She could live with their suspicion, as long as they continued to not be outright rude or mean to her.

At least she could empathize with Adrien now, whenever she figured out how to break it to him that Hawkmoth was definitely Gabriel and couldn’t be anyone else. Hopefully she could help soften the blow for him a little.

Harley and Ivy were starting to herd Marinette towards their car and take her back home, where they could continue to smother her in care and make sure she didn’t have even a scratch on her, when Robin’s voice stopped them all in their tracks.

“You are a surprisingly capable combatant.”

Marinette froze, blinking in surprise for a second before turning to stare at Robin in shock. The rest of the Bat Clam was doing the same, nobody expecting Robin of all people to be the first to directly complement Marinette. He tutted, crossing his arms, but never moved his gaze away from Marinette’s eyes.

“But your form could use some work. Most of your style is incredibly improvised, which I can appreciate since you do it well, but you would benefit from more structure in your fighting. I will set up a time and place for us to spar. We start in two days, if you think you can handle it.”

It took a while for what Robin said to sink in, and another few seconds for Marinette to decipher what his semi-aggressive, order-phrased proposal really meant. And she smiled.

“It’s a date.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Woo! This started off a little rough, but I really like how it ended up! Thank you, Anon!

[sserpente]

Ablaze (Part II)

A/N: I am way too excited about this TV series. I wonder how many theories will make sense in the end. Here goes Part II, enjoy everyone! ♥

Read Part I here.

Words: 4138 Warnings: there’s going to be a gory corpse

A dark scream ripped you from your uneasy sleep. Alarmed, you sat up straight, ready to defend yourself with the next-best weapon within your reach—a table lamp, in this case. But there was no one there to hurt you. Instead, you noticed Loki, the god who was practically holding you hostage in your own flat after setting the headquarters of TVA, the secret organisation monitoring the multiverse, on fire, thrashing in bed right next to you as if he was possessed. Wait… was he… dreaming?

“No…” He growled. “No!”

Still giddy, you switched on the table lamp and studied the heavily breathing Trickster by your side. His blue eyes were closed. So he was having a nightmare. Should you… should you wake him? What if he accidentally hurt you in his frenzy?

Biting your lower lip, and with your heart pounding in your chest like a steam hammer, you reached for him, carefully grabbing his bare shoulder. The singeing sensation of his remarkably cool skin under your palm made you flinch.

“L-Loki? Loki, wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”

You gasped for air, terrified, when he opened his eyes with a start, momentarily disoriented. His hand darted forward to snatch your wrist so firmly it hurt. You winced.

“Loki…”

It took him another moment to realise you were no threat to him. Finally, his deadly expression softened. His breath was shaky, sweat pooling on his forehead, his neck and even his chest, shimmering in the artificial light of your table lamp. It was, quite strangely, a sight which would have aroused you if it wasn’t for the fact he was a war and time criminal, held you captive and could have killed you in his sleep just a moment ago. God, how could you even think about his looks in this whole horrifying situation?

With a start, Loki let go of his wrists as if hot flames were licking at his cold fingers, defending your body.

He said nothing more. Instead, he merely turned his back to you again… almost as if nothing had happened at all. You would never find out that he noticed you spent the majority of the rest of the night wide awake. But so did he.

-

Drowsily, you blinked against the gentle sunlight fighting its way through your curtains. It was a beautiful morning, peaceful. You sat up, your eyes registering an empty mug and a dark stain on your carpet.

Your heart skipped a beat when you remembered. Last night, you had involuntarily fallen asleep next to the God of Mischief who had taken you hostage in your own flat after destroying TVA’s headquarters like a house made of LEGO bricks. You remembered his nightmare, too. The way he had had jerked and grunted, almost as if his own subconscious was inflicting serious pain on him… as if it was torturing him. What, for Heaven’s sake, caused such terrifying bad dreams? What… what had he been through opening and travelling through all those portals on your radar?

You were in danger, serious danger so. You had no clue if Loki planned to kill you anytime soon. If he forced you into doing his biddings with violence… no. No, he did not seem like the sort of person who would physically harm women simply for the sake of it. There were limits even to his malice, you were sure of it. Or at least, that was what you were hoping.

As expected, and much to your relief, the other side of the bed was empty, the sheets unmade. You could hear him in the kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards almost frantically. With your heart in your mouth, you made your way into the kitchen.

“Is there anything edible in your accommodation?” He complained, shutting the fridge shut without even spinning around to face you. “Where is the sweet hot chocolate mixture you used last night?”

“In the cupboard above the counter.” I mean, what was the point of lying? He would find it anyway, at some point, only angrier. You almost snorted at the thought of trading your survival for hot chocolate.

“Make us something to eat. I need sustenance.”

Make us something to eat? You clenched your fists, eyeing the coffee machine in the corner of the kitchen and wondering if you were less likely to risk your life by talking back once you had pumped your body full of caffeine.

Your heart was pounding. You barely dared to move around him. Loki glared at you but said nothing. It was like he felt you remembering what had happened last night.

“If you lose a word about what you witnessed last night…” He growled darkly.

“Don’t threaten me,” you whispered weakly. “It’s not like I have anyone left to tell anyway.” You paused, curious whether he was going to reply. He did not. “I-I’m having cereal.” You said, despite your lack of appetite. “You can have a bowl too.” As if I had a choice sharing my food with you…

You had just poured some milk into both your cereal bowls when a loud song ripped apart the tense silence in the kitchen. Your phone! Your eyes widened. Oh God, you still had your phone! How could you have been so stupid?

Starting for the living room, you were panting by the time you picked up. It was Isabelle, one of your co-workers. A fellow agent who must have survived! Your hands were shaking.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)! Thank the Lord, you’re okay.”

“So are you! I-I am… more or less, I…” You did not need to turn around to feel his presence behind you. Loki was eyeing you threateningly, circling you slowly. The message was clear—if you told anyone he was here, you would be in some serious trouble. You swallowed thickly.

“Do you… do you know who else made it out?”

“I’ve been on the phone all morning but nothing’s confirmed yet. They’re optimistic but Jed is devastated. He’s trying to get us all back on track… whoever’s left of us, anyway.” Jed was your boss, more or less, guiding your missions and keeping a neat overview over everything that happened within TVA. You eyed Loki from the corners of his eyes, looking for anything to ease your mind. A hint of remorse, perhaps. Regret, pity, anything would have sufficed. He was like an impenetrable wall.

“Can you meet us? By the river? Jed is already on his way.”

“W-why?”

“We found traces of another portal but…”

“But what?!”

“This time… there is… (Y/N), someone has been murdered.” You took a sharp breath. Ever since Loki’s capture, you had almost forgotten about those mysterious portals that seemed to keep appearing out of nowhere. For a moment there, you had all assumed it had been Loki himself, repeatedly using the Tesseract. Given that he had been with you last night, however, and before that, had spent his time in custody at TVA’s headquarters... before he had… burned them all down… it could not possibly have been him. You swallowed. For once, you knew that he was innocent. There was someone else still out there. And they were, so it appeared, equally dangerous. “Where are you right now?”

It was then Loki snatched the phone from your grasp, clutching it so tightly the screen cracked… and went black. Fuck. You should have screamed bloody murder the minute you had picked it up.

“W-what…”

“Do you truly think I will let you tell them about your whereabouts so lightly?” He snarled.

“They will get suspicious if I don’t show up!” You yelled, your lower lip shaking.

“Show up where?”

“T-the crime scene. There has been a murder.”

Loki frowned. “I believed you are monitoring time travel, not petty crimes.”

Slowly, you shook your head. Murder was hardly petty. Well… perhaps it was to him, given you were only humans. Swallowing your anger, you looked up at him with courage. “We normally don’t but…”

“But?” He probed strictly when you trailed off. You flinched.

“There… we have repeatedly recorded interdimensional portals. They interfere with our readings. Something is… off about this and now someone is dead and I… we have been trying to find out what it is even before you came along and destroyed our headquarters, you know.” It was just that SHIELD wouldn’t let you. It was a fight over power and recognition, really.

“I want to see it.” Loki stated simply. Your eyes widened. “How many portals have there been?”

“Thirteen.”

“You believe they have a harmful cause?”

“We don’t know that yet. We are monitoring everything. Those energy waves did not go unnoticed by our radars, they are going to start tearing time and reality apart if we don’t stop whoever is creating them. SHIELD has already…”

Loki’s face distorted.

“You work with SHIELD?”

“We do, if we must but we prefer to keep our distance.”

He rolled his eyes. “I see. When did the first portals begin to appear?”

“A few weeks ago. Whoever it is… I don’t think they realise that they are being watched.” Hugging yourself, you took the opportunity to move away from him a little, watching from a safer distance how he pensively looked out of the window. Suddenly, the weather did not at all fit the depressing situation you were in, let alone the topic you were talking about.

“Yes… I can imagine that.”

“W-what?” You frowned. “What do you mean by that? Do you know who it could be? Is it one of your allies?”

Loki’s gaze darted back to you—seriously. “I don’t have allies,” he spat. “I shall join you.”

“You can’t just… walk in on a crime scene unauthorised.”

“I just walked into your flat, did I not?” He mocked.

“They will recognise you.” You argued, voice shaking audibly.

“They will not.” Loki smirked. “No one but you will be able to see who I truly am.”

Fuck. Did you have a choice? After what he had done last night… could you refuse him? You sighed, defeated. No. Probably not.

-

There were thunders in the distance when you left, the initially blue sky slowly turning grey. Heavy clouds pushed in front of the sun, blocking its light from reaching Earth. That is more like it. If you got suspended today because you brought a war criminal to a crime scene revealing important details about another potential threat, at least it would not happen in broad and warm sunlight.

You were nervous. No, you were terrified. If there was one thing your boss did not accept, it was weakness and fear of what might happen if you chose to prioritise your survival over protecting life in the multiverse. It sounded cruel and ridiculously altruistic but you had known what you got yourself into with working for TVA. There was only one thing worse than egoism. And that was treason.

Yet here you were now, approaching a crime scene with a criminal who had ensured you he would be looking like a normal Midgardian man to anyone you met. Spotting SHIELD first thing you arrived did not exactly ease your nerves. Taking a shaky breath, you approached them. Rain was falling by now, wetting the asphalt and your clothes. At least, part of your uniform was waterproof.

You could tell Loki was watching you intently as you tensed the closer you got. He was dressed in a surprisingly inconspicuous police uniform—plain beige trousers and a white shirt, a black tie and an equally beige police jacket with a badge.

Luckily enough, Jed arrived just when the SHIELD agent, Jeff, so you knew, lifted his arms to stop you from stepping over the barrier tape despite your ID. With his blonde hair fluttering in the wind, he looked a little like Owen Wilson. He even sounded a little like him too.

“What are you doing here, TVA?” Jeff groaned with dismay. “This is our crime scene. You have no business here.”

“Shut it. The energy readings we keep getting from these portals say something different. They have been interfering with our radars for weeks now. We can’t keep the world safe from potential threats in time and the multiverse if we can’t observe it properly. So I disagree. This is our crime scene too. Now get out of my way.” He paused, turning to you. “(Y/N), I’m glad to see you’re well.”

“You too.” You replied with a court nod.

“Who is that?”

“Uh… He is, uh, with the… the police.” You lied quickly. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Help me, you attempted to scream with your eyes. You must realise that something is wrong! But he did not.

“Luke.” Loki jumped in, letting his charm do all the work as he offered Jed his hand. He took and shook it, his initial suspicion dying down once the God of Mischief gave him a sly smile.

“Right. Pleased to meet you, Sir. We’ll do our best to get the situation under control, then I promise we’ll leave you to it. A lot of my agents have been in a critical state in the hospital since that Asgardian arsehole escaped from us last night. There is no excuse for that faux-pas but he is… difficult to say the least. It’ll take us a while to make amends.”

“Asgardian arsehole?” Jeff interrupted. “What are you talking about? The war criminal Loki was taken back to Asgard by Thor years ago.”

Jed pressed his lips together to a thin line. “It’s complicated.”

Panicking, you gasped for air but much to your surprise, Loki did nothing whatsoever. He only smiled—maliciously so.

“I am deeply sorry for your loss.” He stated hollowly, making you swallow thickly. If Jed only knew… “So? What is it that interferes with your radars, agent?”

“We don’t know. It almost feels like…” Jed looked at you.

“As if there are remnants of… magic… it’s crackling.” The both of you were unable to tell him more than you already had. As a TVA agent, you were not dealing with murders often. Accidents, yes but actual murder? Hardly, fortunately.

Loki lifted his chin. “Show me this corpse.”

-

“Here,” you announced, taking a step back when you felt the energy waves pushing against every fibre of your skin. You had been focused not to give the dead body surrounded by barrier tape and a pool of blood more glances than absolutely necessary, to ignore the dreadful and almost sweet stench of decay. It had been… cut in half. The victim must have tried to enter the portal after whoever had created it—but had been too slow to make it through entirely. Scrunching up your nose, you resisted a gag. You were a TVA agent, for Goodness sake. Pull yourself together. There are worse things. Just like being kept hostage by a dangerous god without anyone even knowing. It certainly was a good sign he had not harmed you as of yet though, no? What, however, would happen once you got a chance to tell Jed the truth? Would he kill you after all? Set your flat on fire as well?

Gulping, you wiped your sweaty palms on your trousers, your heart speeding up in your chest when you felt his presence behind you. His body temperature was remarkably cool, yet you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him, making you feel small and powerless next to him. Still, there was this tiny part of you—a barely audible voice whispering in your mind—that enjoyed the fear and the excitement that came with being Loki’s… captive.

The urge to slap yourself rose.

“What causes this?” You managed to choke out.

You watched, almost in awe, how he brought up his palm to touch the remaining energy waves your radars had recorded prior to arriving at the crime scene. Unlike yours, however, his palms began to shimmer in a green light.

“It is unlike the gamma radiation the Tesseract emits. It’s more… crackling. That probably doesn’t make any sense.”

“Oh, it makes perfect sense.” Loki replied matter-of-factly. “The crackling, as you describe it, is of magical origin. On Asgard, we call it seidr. Few can wield it, fewer are able to take their skills beyond simple tricks.”

“What… are you saying that whoever is creating these portals is Asgardian too?”

“I am not…” Loki took a deep breath and pressed his lips together to a thin line before speaking on. “They might be. I only know one person who would be capable of finding a way to open doors to other realities like that.”

Glancing at him in utter shock, you waited for him to continue. He did not. Instead, he directed his attention at the person approaching you before you even registered the footsteps on the wet asphalt yourself. You were hauled into a hug, all air pressed from your lungs and your eyesight blocked by waves of her long ginger hair.

“Isabelle!”

“Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again! The connection was lost and when I tried to call you back, I could only reach your voicemail. What happened? I thought Loki attacked you!”

Well, technically… you swallowed thickly. “No, I, um… I was doing the washing up to distract myself from… you know… and the phone fell into the sink. I put it in a bowl of rice, it should be fine again tomorrow.” There went another lie. You would have to buy a new phone and you sincerely doubted that Loki would let you. Next to you, the God of Mischief chuckled maliciously. Bastard.

“Who are you?” Isabelle frowned at him.

“Luke. Officer Luke.”

“He’s with the… police.”

“I see. You are here alone?” She probed suspiciously.

“I am. I am merely here to ensure things are… taken care of, so to speak.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that. Your superiors are familiar with our work and how significant it is for all our wellbeing.” Loki only raised his eyebrows in a seemingly unimpressed manner.

You wondered, briefly, what would happen if you screamed bloody murder and warned her about him, gave away his identity. Would he kill you straight away? Torture you first? After he had set the TVA headquarters on fire, anything was possible. Bruce Banner had not been wrong. That man’s mind was like a bag full of cats.

“Where is the rest of our team?” You asked her instead. “Have they still not arrived? Jed said a lot of them are being treated in the hospital but…”

“They’re busy finding Loki.”

“Do you, um…” Your voice was shaky. Clearing your throat, you continued despite his threatening presence right beside you. “I didn’t dare to ask Jed back there.” Or Loki, for that matter. “How many agents died in the fire?”

“Only two. Pete and Roth.” The very same agents who had caught Loki. Loki barely put any effort into hiding his satisfaction. Clearly, he had planned this. Taken his revenge. It made you wonder what else he’d have in store for this world even without you spilling his dirty secret. But then again… you remembered how vulnerable he had looked last night in his sleep. There had to be more. So much more.

A loud and alarming bleeping tore through the crispy air with a start. Both Isabelle und you flinched, turning your heads towards the computer station Jed had by now stationed at the crime scene with the help of another agent. The radar was blinking red and purple, the noise downright ear-piercing.

“Jed, what is it?” Isabelle covered her ears.

“Another portal opened.” Loki answered for him, his expression hardening.

“What?! When?! Now?”

He did not reply—instead, he turned on his heel and ran, presumably straight towards the source of the readings.

“Officer! Officer Sir, no, it’s too dangerous! Officer! Damn it. (Y/N), stay where you are!” But you weren’t listening either. You hurried after him, for what reason you did not know yourself. Loki was perfectly capable of defending himself—you were not. If what he had said was true and there was another Asgardian wreaking havoc in this city, you’d do well to leg it and flee. Besides… why would you care? If he died playing curiosity kills the cat, your entire organisation had one problem less to deal with. Why, for Heaven’s sake, did part of you feel like you owed him in spite of this nerve-wrecking fear?

“Stay back!” He yelled.

Gnashing your teeth, you stopped dead in your tracks, blinded by the bright green lights illuminating the narrow alley Loki had run off into.

The energy the portal was radiating was numbing, almost. Like an invisible wall you were trying to step closer, tensing every single muscle in your body to no avail. Loki, however, seemed to have no problems approaching the hazardous time threat at all.

Finally, a tall, blonde woman stepped through. The portal closed behind her, drowning the alley in rainy darkness once more. The impact of the energy ebbing away nearly knocked you off your feet. Right before you could fall, however, a strong and cold hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you up again seemingly without any effort whatsoever. Gazing up, bedazzled, you met Loki’s serious and reproachful glare.

“I told you to stay back.” He growled, his grip around your wrist almost painful. It was the one already forming a bruise from his sleepy attack last night. He let go as if he had burned himself when he noticed, leaving you there all exhausted and trembling. It was then an almost soft voice sounded behind him, making him stiffen and go pale—if only just a little. Your lips parted.

“By Odin’s beard… Loki?!”

The God of Mischief took a deep breath. “Sylvie.” He too, was surprised, to say the least. Yet if there was one thing Loki was really good at, it was hiding his feelings. So they knew each other. Just great.

“I would recognise that mischievous voice anywhere. What in the nine realms happened to your face?” With some words, it almost sounded like she had a lisp.

“An illusion. I am a fugitive, so it seems.”

“Oh, what have you done now, hmm?” Her laughter tore through the dark alley, next you thing you witnessed she had already thrown herself into his arms, her feet dangling in the air. Loki, albeit hesitantly, reciprocated the hug. “I missed you! Midgard is so boring without you.” She pouted. Never before had you felt as redundant as you did now. It seemed to have been your cue.

“Oh, not again…” She suddenly complained, her brown eyes finding you standing in the background. She glared at you darkly. “Didn’t you see what happened to the last human who attempted to follow me? You would do well to leave me alone if you do not wish to suffer from the same fate.”

“You look very human to me.” At least she was dressed human, unlike Loki when they had first found and brought them to your headquarters.

“Well, I am not. I am Asgardian.” Loki opened his mouth. He never got to say what he intended to.

“Put your hands up in the air and no harm will come to you!” It was Jed’s voice that ripped you all from this uncomfortable and undoubtedly dangerous situation. His gun was aimed at the blonde who rolled her eyes in response. “Officer, step away from her, please! She is likely a hostile!”

The curse Loki uttered sounded a lot like he had spoken it in a foreign language. “We need to leave, now. They have weapons which immobilise even me—long enough for them to shackle you.”

“What? Those meagre mortals? Oh, please…” While the strange woman crossed her arms, Loki reacted already. Unceremoniously, he pulled out the Tesseract out of… seemingly nowhere—your heart skipped a beat when it appeared in his hand and he held it without any sort of protection—and offered her his arm. The woman’s eyes widened. Without any hesitation, she took it. And then, everything happened at once.

“Sir, what are you… the Tesseract. This is Loki! Everyone, this is Loki! Fuck!” More guns were aimed at you all, a low chuckle from the God of Mischief sending ice-cold shivers up and down your spine.

“Wait, don’t shoot! (Y/N) is in the line of fire!” Isabelle’s ear-piercing scream barely reached you when the first gunshots tore through the air as wild as a swarm of wasps. So this was it. You would be shot by your own colleagues and a handful of SHIELD agents.

The last thing you expected Loki to do, however, was to grab you, pull you flush against him and tear you with him into the unknown.

-

A/N: Stay tuned for Part III!

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[kats-baku1999]

Play with Fire

Master List

Chapter Two: The New Generation

Shoto Todoroki walked through the halls of UA, halfway listening to his friend Izuku Midoriya go on about the hero that was coming to teach their new lesson. Honestly though, Todoroki couldn’t put much focus into Midoriya. There was too much happening in his home life to even think about it. His last visit with his mom hadn’t gone over well, she was in her own little world. Telling him all about his eldest brother, that Todoroki honestly couldn’t remember. Just remembered the sounds of the screams that came from Natsuo when he found out, and the sobs from Fuyumi trying to calm down her brother. That was one of mom’s last straws, that was the breaking point.

“Hey Deku! Todoroki!” Uraraka came running towards them, grinning widely, “She’s here! The hero Mimi!”

Deku let out an excited noise, and took off down the hall to the classroom. The entire reaction finally brought a small grin to Todoroki’s face, but then again Midoriya usually could. Midoriya did that for almost everyone though, so it was nothing new. Todoroki picked up his pace, walking into the classroom. The smile wiping off his face when he finally processed who was here.

The pro hero Mimi... One of the most public haters of his father. Mimi was never one to hide her distaste of Endeavor. She never disclosed why she couldn’t stand him, but was never shy reminding people she couldn’t. She was notable for taking down many villains, and was the number four hero. Right under Hawks, who just so happened to be her significant other. Their relationship was almost overly publicized, helping them both gain fans. There were so many supporters of the relationship, it was almost ridiculous.

Todoroki quietly walked to his seat, trying to avoid eye contact with her. She was in her civilian clothes, which was unusual for heroes that came to visit. Iida was absolutely losing it over the conflict of trying to not yell at a pro for so casually sitting on a desk. Tokoyami walked into the classroom, nodding his head towards her. Remembering her from his internship, she gave him a small smile and wave. Her eyes instantly going back to the boy who was avoiding looking at her.

Asami felt her chest clench up at how much like Touya he looked when it came to his face shape. Shoto Todoroki had gained a lot of his own fame outside of his father, thanks to his performance at the sports festival. Then there was the whole Stain situation. She couldn’t help but always feel stressed when it came to him, feeling protective over a boy who didn’t know her. She had known him though, and she loved his older brother. Maybe not an in love kind of love, considering they were only thirteen back then, but she did love Touya more than anything back then. Asami knew that she had to look out for his siblings, the way she knew he would have if he would’ve survived.

“Okay class, please direct your attention towards Pro-Hero Mimi for your lecture today,” Aizawa announced and everybody looked forward. All of their eyes focusing excitedly on Asami.

“So today’s lecture is a little, well heavy,” Asami sighed, “Your teachers believed you all needed to begin to be prepared for the worst situations possible, considering what you all have had to face this year so far,”

“You have all been told all your lives that being a hero had its risks, and sometimes those risks aren’t personal, but are towards the people you care about,” Her eyes focused in Todoroki, “Sometimes, we lose the people we care about in our line of work, and I am no stranger to this grief,”

“Ma’am I’m sorry, but what hero friends have you lost?” Midoriya questioned, “I just mean, I’ve never seen a report about it,”

“Well, I haven’t lost anyone since I was thirteen years old, he never got the chance to be a hero,” Asami smiled to herself, Touya’s laugh echoing through her head, “He would have made a fine one though, and would’ve been one of the best,”

“Sorry, I guess I’m just confused as to how this applies to anything, sorry I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” Mina stumbled over her words, and Asami just smiled sadly at her.

“I’m just here to tell you guys, to really think this through, and to understand all of the burdens that come with our line of work,” Asami explained, standing up from the desk, “To also understand, that you do not have to be numb to these feelings, so from now on I will be working with UA to have a therapy section, for you to also work on controlling some of these emotions,”

“How does that have anything to do with us becoming pros?” Bakugo scoffed, glaring at Asami.

“Well, having good emotional control will help your control of your quirk, they’re all connected you know?” Asami smiled, tilting her head a little bit, “I will only be with you guys for a limited amount of time, but how long that limited time is, depends on all of you,”

“Asami here will be using her quirk to place you all in emotionally triggering situations, that you’ll have to pull yourself out of, we agreed that you all need to work on controlling your emotions too,” Aizawa also explained to the class.

“These sessions will have three parts, one where we get to know one another, two where you hopefully help me understand your emotional triggers, and then the third level is the use of my quirk,” Asami handed a stack of papers to be passed around, “These sheets explain your schedules and times with me,”

“I expect all of you to take this seriously, and to respect Asami, she will also be joining us on our summer camp, as yet another chaperone for you disaster children,” Aizawa sighed, “Thank you Asami, we look forward to working with you.”

Asami excused herself from the school for the day. Making her way home slowly, stopping for a few errands along the way. Texting Keigo to see if they were still on for their date. He was quick to respond with a yes and a bunch of winking emojis. So she made her way home, to shower and get ready for her date. Pinning her hair up and putting on a simple red dress.

Keigo didn’t even bother knocking on her front door, just letting himself into her apartment. Making himself comfortable in the kitchen, waiting for her to come out of her room. Asami walked out, and smiled at Keigo. Walking forward to place a small kiss on his cheek. He grinned back at her, taking in her looks for the night.

“Well aren’t you just a pretty little thing tonight,” Keigo smirked at her, “Now going to this uptight hero banquet doesn’t sound even remotely appealing,”

“You know what they’ll say if we aren’t there Bird Boy,” Asami grinned, stepping out of his arms. She walked over to her coat rack, grabbing her jacket and her purse.

“How’d it go with the kiddos today?” Keigo smiled, opening the front door for his girlfriend.

“They seemed more confused than anything, but I think it’ll be successful,” Asami explained, “You know how I feel about all of this, I think it’ll be exciting to watch these kids come to terms with their feelings, and be really successful as pros!”

“My dear Asami, you are really going to change this next generation of heroes,” Keigo grabbed her hand to bring it up to his lips to kiss it. She smiled at the gesture, and at his support.

————-

Asami’s first student session was with non other than Todoroki himself. He reluctantly stood outside of her makeshift office. Unsure of how to approach the situation. After all she hated his father, so surely she had some kind of distaste towards him. Asami slid open the door though, smiling gently at Todoroki and letting him in.

“Don’t look so scared Todoroki, you look way too tense,” Asami laughed at the boy who just looked at her, sitting down in one of the chairs across from her desk. She watched him for a second sitting down in her seat. Opening up his school file she read through it.

“You know who I am right?” Todoroki sighed, “I just don’t want you to-”

“I don’t blame you for anything to do with your father,” Asami interrupted him, “I am sorry for my public distaste towards the man, it has nothing to do with you though,”

“It has to do with your friendship with my late older brother, right?” Todoroki was straight to the point. She looked shocked at his words, and his knowledge of who she was, “My mother and my siblings do nothing but mention how much you’ve grown since playing with Touya,”

“I am sorry I have more memories with him than I’m sure you do, but it’s thanks to that I am painfully aware of how your father is,” Asami looked at the small picture of her and Touya sitting on her desk.

“So why not expose him completely to the press, you could ruin him with the knowledge you have?” Todoroki’s question stuck within her. She knew she had the power to but...

“Despite my anger towards your father, I care deeply for your family Todoroki, I used to play with your siblings, I even got to sneak you into play with us one day,” Asami grinned at the memory, “You were so small back then, but Touya told me it was the first time you had even got to interact with all of them,”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember,”

“I didn’t expect you to, but I do, I remember all of him and again I am truly sorry I got more time with him than you did,” Asami frowned, feeling guilty, “But your brother he was one determined kid,”

Asami handed the picture of them across the desk to Todoroki.

“He is the friend you were referring to last week, correct?” Todoroki questioned, staring at the photo of his older brother. His hair both red and white, but not in the way Shoto’s was. It was sporadic, and unevenly placed.

“Yeah, he is the reason I am everything I am today, you know originally I wanted to be a teacher, but after Touya passed away I wanted to carry on his dream and become a pro,” Asami closed Todoroki’s file, and took back the photo from him, “Even ended up disowned from my parents, they aren’t exactly supportive of the superhero society,”

“You went against their wishes just for my older brother?” Todoroki seemed confused, “He meant that much to you?”

“I think I admired him more than anything, you know he always made it a point to say it wasn’t your fault,” Asami watched as Shoto showed a bit of emotion... Almost relief. She wondered if he had heard that his father was what pushed Touya past the breaking point. The only one she kept in much contact with was Natsuo, but he said he didn’t pay much attention to anything that happened with his father.

“Well, I need to get to my next class, uh we meet again next week right?” Todoroki stood up from his seat and looked nervously at Asami. Who nodded with a grin on her face.

“You can also get my contact information from Aizawa, and get ahold of me anytime you might need something okay?” Todoroki nodded, before turning around and walking out of the office.

Asami could only think to herself about how in another life they might know each other. How maybe if Touya would’ve been there, if he would’ve stopped his father’s obsession. If he would’ve made sure Shoto was more than some weapon. They could’ve watched him train, and been there for his accomplishments with UA... And the messes he made at UA.

A small, sad, sigh left her mouth. Her eyes focused in on the picture of Touya, and her bottom lip caught in between her teeth. After all, she had another session so she couldn’t be the one crying.

“I miss you, idiot.”

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Twelve)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Eleven ※※※※※ Chapter Thirteen

I approach my boyfriend seeing him completely tense. The long, callused fingers from the guitar strings tightening in distress. His eyes didn't know where to look, staring into the spotlight like they were monsters from his childhood.

The thick brown coat was a few sizes too big for him, but he's still beautiful all the same. On the eyelids, a black eye shadow ending with a pink tip gave it a charm. The lip balm seemed to bring out the color of his lips, making me restless to kiss him.

“I don't know if it was a good idea.” Luke, let out all the air as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“It was a great idea! You look awesome.” I bite my lip, controlling the urge to take him into a room and do various indecent things. “Just relax and enjoy. As in a play.” I advise him, trying to calm him down."

Ever since the invitation for him to be the face of this perfume had arrived, I was bursting with pride and anticipation to see him doing his photo shoot, following something completely different from the band.

"Don't you think it's too exaggerated?" he asks, unsure of the look. I hold his face in my hands, touching our foreheads. I allow myself to drown in his blue eyes.

“You look handsome.” I say slowly, so he can record my words well. “Now, let's get this quick, because seeing you like this is making me very excited and I don't know how long I can take it.” I sigh, uneasy. Hemmo gives a nice laugh. Glad to see him more relaxed.

Watch out when the photographer yells for them to start. I give my boyfriend a little kiss, ready to pull away, but Luke holds me in his arms still.

“I love you!” he whispers, like a secret.

“I love you!” I give him a little kiss on the tip of his nose. "Anything just scream, I'll be right there." I blink at him.

I take a few steps back, not taking my eyes off his. So as not to bump into anything and make a mess of his work, I turn around, running behind the spotlights and flashbulbs.

I watched the photo shoot totally proud and delighted. Little by little Luke was loosening up and having fun. I don't wipe the smile off my lips, so every time he looks at me, he smiles more.

Nearly three hours later, my excitement was already making me irritated that photo shoot wasn't over and I feel like I lost all control when in the last costume, where Luke rips the white blouse. I hold my breath, staring at the ceiling, wondering how I'm going to make it home and calculating which is closest.

~.~.~.~.~

We left the elevator hand in hand and in hurried steps, we weren't running, but whoever passed us realized we were in a hurry. I squeeze his hand seeing the door with the number 609.

"Thank God." I comment euphoric as Luke opens the door.

He walks in and pulls me to his chest. His hand tangles in the hairs on the back of my neck, enveloping us in a desperate kiss. Urgently, I open the buttons on his shirt, feeling his other hand find my ass, squeezing hard.

I force the fabric to slide down his arms, enjoying the texture of his warm skin. The tequila flavor still inhabits our mouths, which makes the kiss better, plus the soft touch of his lips pressed against mine.

I roll my eyes as his beard scrapes my neck, along with his hot mouth, giving me goose bumps.

“The door.” I say with difficulty, noticing it ajar.

Together, we staggered back a few steps, closing it. Without much patience and with a lot of desire, we ended up staying there. Hemmings presses me against the wood, pulling me into his lap. I scratch the back of his neck when I feel his erection against me, releasing the electricity that seems to rush through my body.

It was amazing how seeing him on stage, with those tight pants and silk shirts moving me. Honestly, he can wear anything, and at the end of the day I'll be falling for him. Not to mention the eyes full of glitter. He had me in the palm of his hands like that. So beautiful. So magnificent.

Luke always knew this look messed with my hormones and destroyed my self-control, and in the end it always ended up like that, having sex, because I couldn't help myself.

Of course, the drink has a big weight in this, but I'm not going to take our blame for this story, after all, we teased each other from the moment we stepped into that dressing room.

The desperation and excitement is such that we reach our first orgasm right there, against the door. No foreplay, no undressing completely, and not caring if anyone passing in the hallway heard anything.

It was something far above lust or desire. Despair to feel our skins against each other. Taste and touch. That feeling of feeling incredible, loved, wanted, as if the only chance to stay alive was there inside of us.

I wake up in a jump. My heart pounded, causing pain. My body seemed to boil, prompting me to kick the covers off quickly. The fresh memory of the dream causes shivers. The way I felt his touch, all those sensations and reactions my body gave.

I lie down on the bed again, wanting to calm down and not think too much about the dream, or what else seemed like, memories. I don't know how to handle it, these are the first sexual memories I have with him. My God, how am I going to look at Luke now?

I pick up my phone, which poin just over an hour earlier than I planned to wake up. Since I know I won't be able to get back to sleep anymore, so I start getting ready for today's meeting.

I decide to have breakfast first and once again review my past contract to get a sense of what will be discussed. Between one paragraph and another, I browse my social networks seeing what's going on.

Without being impressed anymore, I watch a little video or two that some fans make about Hemmo and me. Slightly, I melt at the way we look and smile at each other.

I go back to my room, and head for a shower. I hope that water takes those memories from earlier today down the drain, but the steam seems to open more fields in my brain.

I close my eyes, feeling various parts of my body tingle, as if he's there, touching me, holding me. My breath heaves and my belly tightens. What the fuck is going on?

Cheating on me yet again, my brain presents me with the two of us on the floor of that hotel room. In my kitchen. In the car. In some bathroom. Some of the countless times we'd lost ourselves in each other's arms.

The many times I ran my hands over his chest, drawing a new path, as I thought in that hospital hall. The times his mouth wandered over my body, his hands took me with such force and conviction.

The phone ringtone brings me back to reality. I turn off the alarm and hurry my shower. With Noah's guidance, I change into something comfortable and a bucket hat Calum gave me to hide my pink hair.

After a few hours, I find myself analyzing a huge photo of myself at the Hastings agency reception. With Noah, I follow a huge hallway to a conference room, where Mr. Hastings and a lawyer would be waiting for us. The twin next to me has a hard face, which is weird since Noah is always so excited and smiling.

“Marnie, dear! Long time no see! How have you been? Did you receive my basket?” Mr. Hastings question me without waiting for me to walk right into the room.

“Hi! I'm great and yes, I loved the basket, it was very kind.” I squeeze his hand, not knowing quite what to do.

“Hello son!” it's not exactly a warm welcome, but I want to believe it's just because we're in a work environment, dealing with serious matters.

“Hi Dad. Can we start?” my friend guides me to a chair.

During the meeting, Mr. Hastings clarified some news of the new contract. Things like: salary increase, partnership with new brands and the whole process of publicizing the names that already worked with us.

“Closing here, you will go to the closet to take new measurements. These numbers will be sent to the brands that hired you and they will send you clothes for you to use on a daily basis. For example: if you go out with Leah for coffee, you must wear a Louis Vuitton coat, so the photos you take will publicize the coat and well, nowadays young people find everything and want everything you wear. You will get a scale of which brands to use, so it's easier for you.” Mr. Hastings explains by summarizing a contract sheet.

As for photo shoots, until my arm gets better and I can get rid of the cast, I'll be limited to rehearsals on jewelry, makeup, glasses and shoes. On my hair, if the contracting brand determines, I will have to wear a wig.

I keep mentally reading every line of that contract, wondering if I could handle it all. Well, you’ve handle it for the past two years, it shouldn't be that hard.

As determined, after the meeting, Noah walks me to the closet. A huge space where had several clothes and accessories, as in The Devil Wears Prada. My measurements are taken and I get annoyed when the guy who's putting the measuring tape around my waist grumbles that I've put on weight.

The bad thing about being a model is it, this constant imposition of a perfect body. Since the accident, I don't remember seeing anyone on Leah's foot for her to lose weight or keep her body. I always watched her nervous appetite, not caring if it would add to her number on the scale.

Okay that Leah's biotype was skinny and maybe that made things easier for her. But since I understand myself by people, I've always been short and broad hiped and never cared. And even if I erased a few years, I don't think I've changed much.

From the reflection in the mirror, Noah sinalized for me not to care what the guy says, but I think it's kind of difficult. It's not just him talking about my body, it seems like everyone on the internet has an opinion about my weight, especially some Luke fans.

Blocking in my mind, the offensive words that I always end up reading through social media. However, I keep watching my body in the mirror, wondering if it wouldn't be better to lose some weight.

Soon after having my measurements taken, Noah is called to a meeting with his father and a french businessman, leaving me alone. As I wait for the car to arrive, I consider what I can do on my last day off. Everyone is working and I don't want to disturb anyone.

Finally, I decide to go to my mom's office and have lunch with her. I go down at the door of a huge, mirrored building. At the front desk, I ask about her office, getting a badge before I go upstairs.

The frosted glass door holds a huge space, which occupies one/quarter of the eighth floor. The various prints, fabrics, furniture and color palettes create a fun atmosphere, contrasting with the white walls of the place.

"Marnie! Hey!” a woman with curly hair, tied up in a purple turban, approaches with a huge smile.

“Hi.” I reply politely, but having no idea who she is.

“Oh, sorry.” she seems to notice. “I'm Dominique, your mother's partner.” I open a bigger smile, now informed. "Have you come to see her?" she guides me in the office inside.

“Oh yes, I came to have lunch with her.” Dominique smiles broadly and sympathetically.

"She's going to love the surprise. She's just finishing up with a customer. Want something while you wait?”

“Oh no, thanks!”

Dominique walks away, making it clear that anything was just asking, that I was home. I'm amazed at how things evolved for my mom, before she just had a small room away from the center and now she had all this space and staff.

I watch several people go from one place to another, making projects, budgeting, designing furniture and spaces. My mother's laugh brings me back just in time to see her in her office doorway, rosy cheeks, awkwardly in Mr. Marshall's company.

I open a smile finding the scene adorable. I look for Dominique, hoping she hasn't shut up in her office yet, as she might know something about the two of them. I find the brunette, leaning against the reception desk smiling like me.

"Marnie?" I turn quickly, finding Mr. Marshall next to me. “How have you been?” I hug him while my mother stands wide-eyed in the door.

He hadn't changed much. The face that was once smooth now had a very charming gray beard. The hair was still dark.

“I'm great, thanks. It's great to see you.” I keep my smile, finding it all wonderful, unlike my mother.

“I'm sorry about the accident. I would have send you something, but I didn't have your address and it was a little difficult to reach your mother.” he admits sympathetically. Have I told how much I like him?

“No problems. I’m grateful for your consideration and about you have found my mother again. Isn’t, mom?” her gaze at me turns withering. I'm screwed.

“Well, I'm also very happy to have found Debra again.”

I hold the 'awn' who insists on wanting to leave, when he smiles delightedly at my mother. Man, he's so into her.

“Hm, sorry to be rude, but taking advantage of our meeting, I want to invite you to a new restaurant location opening. It will be this Wednesday.”

“Oh, I'm honored. It will be a pleasure. Right, mom?” I watch my mother want to sink into the ground and disappear, and I can't help think how funny is it. "Do you mind if I invite my friends?"

“No! Of course not! Feel free.” he opens a gentle smile. His gaze flies to my mother and there they stare at each other for a few seconds. “Well, I have to go. Debra, thank you so much for the project, it's beautiful. Marnie, it was a pleasure to see you. Until Wednesday.” he hugs me again. With my mother, I notice them without knowing how to say goodbye.

I wait for Mr. Marshall to leave the office to let out the sigh caught in my throat, which my mother doesn't like.

“Stop this!” she slaps me on my back. I walk into her room laughing at the whole past situation.

“My God, you guys are so in love. Why don't you just assume it?” I ask, sitting in the chair across from her desk.

"Because there isn’t nothing to assume. It's a professional relationship.” she replies angrily, setting the table.

“Mom?” I call her, until she looks at me. I raise an eyebrow, emphasizing that I don't believe her.

Her shoulders slump, letting go of the tension. I watch her hide her face in hands after a sigh. Her eyes catch mine and a nasal laugh breaks the silence, then I see her there, shy and unsure, a small smile, which soon opens, reflecting all over her face.

"I don’t have age for this anymore. I mean…” she takes a bunch of flowers from behind the table. “Look at this.”

"Awn." I cover my face, not taking it. “Of course you have agr for this. If my father can find someone and be happy, then of course you can too. Mom, you're young and beautiful, and there's an amazing guy who's into you. He's clearly in love and apparently he's been doing everything he can to demonstrate, you should give him and… you a chance.” I finish in a whisper, touching myself that those words were good for me too.

I replay in my mind everything Luke has been doing, trying to win me back, and I'm glad that, somehow, I giving both of us a chance, even if it's a non date. I let out a laugh at the memory of the invitation, before letting my mind drift back to this morning's memories.

“I think you're right. Maybe on Wednesday, I can talk to him.” her red cheeks make me smile more.

“It's a great idea. How about we discuss this over lunch?” I suggest, listening to my belly come alive.

“Great idea.” she picks up the phone, dialing something.

Since I had nothing to do, I stay until early afternoon with my mother, gossiping about her crush on Mr. Marshall, about my relationship with Luke, about the meeting and our Wednesday night outfit.

Dominique joins us in a few moments, having fun with my passionate and nervous mom.

Around 3pm, Ashton calls, inviting me out for coffee, just him and me, like old times.

“Why can't I go? Do you not love me anymore?” I cover my mouth, stopping the laughter from coming out, when I hear Calum yell..

“Yeah! I can't take you anymore. How am I going to talk bad about you if you're there?” Ash replies.

"You are talking here. What does it matter to talk there? At least that way you buy me coffee.” Calum rebuts. While the couple argue, I listen to the fight, paying attention to the details of the ceiling.

"Are you still arguing? What the fuck is just coffee? Who is so important for all this? The pope?” I hear Luke arrive and realize he doesn't know I'm the guest.

“It's actually Marnie and from my experiences she's very important to some of the people here.” I don't need to see Ash's face to know he's making fun of Luke.

"Can I go?" I bite my lip, holding back the laugh.

“If you let him go and I don't, I'll never look you in the face again.” Calum gives the ultimatum.

“I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm still here and would like the DTR resolved if possible.” I say out loud, hoping it works.

“Sorry, Marnie. Five seconds.” Irwin asks. I think about making a joke with the band's name, but it's better to leave it alone.

"Is she listening?" Luke speaks in amazement. “Why do you…” then everything becomes too muffled and I can't hear.

“Enough! Nobody goes but me. I want to go out with my friend and I will. Marnie was right, I shouldn't have introduced you.” I hear Ash mumble, causing me to laugh. “Give me your address, I'll be there in a few minutes.”

We ended the call and I return to questioning my friendships. Why God? Why?

Sitting at a small table on the sidewalk, Ash and I discuss which coffee to drink. It wasn't very difficult to know that he loves coffee and understands a lot about the subject, which gives me complete confidence in letting him choose which one I should try.

When the cup reaches the table, I taste the drink under his hopeful, curious gaze. I open a smile, approving of my best friend's choice. I hi-five him, celebrating.

"It was the coffee you had the first time we went out together." he comments with a cute smile.

“Awn, Ash!” I can't stand the way they always remember everything. "So, ready to officially become older tomorrow?" I crack a smile, excited about our dinner tomorrow.

“No! I found a white hair this morning.” he grumbles, eliciting a laugh from me.

“I don’t see anything.” I comment, trying to cheer him up.

"I wasn’t talking about my top hair." he comments, drinking his coffee next.

"Ashton!" I reprimand him, covering my eyes, traumatized. “I don't want to think about it. I don't want to think about it.”

I hear his laugh, letting me laugh too. The problem with having intimacy is exactly that, your friends no longer filter out what to say to you.

“So why didn't you bring Cool Guy Cal?” I change the subject.

“Because I spend the whole day with them, I can't stand to look at those disgusting faces anymore.” I laugh, imagining what a mess that studio must be. "And how am I going to speak ill of him with him here?" I complete this last part with him, laughing. “Exactly.”

“And you have something bad to say?” Ash shakes his head.

“No! Cal is an amazing guy.” Boys… “But I wanted to spend time with my best friend. After the accident it was difficult to have time alone. How are you?” I shrug.

"Surviving. It's only been a month and it seems like, I don't know, six. There's still so much I'm discovering.” I look at my coffee thoughtfully as I twirl the spoon in it.

"Finding out what? Your feelings for Luke?” he mocks. I scold him softly, laughing. This is a sensitive subject. "So how was the kiss?" I spit half the hot drink back into the cup.

I look at my friend in full alert. I can't believe Luke told him. We had agreed to wait a while. Irwin kept his smile curious, waiting for my answer.

“I’m sorry…?” he raised his eyebrows and then it hit me. He played and I delivered. "Ashton!" I kick your shin.

“Ouch! You who kiss and I who get beaten?” he rubs his shin, confused.

“How did you find out?” My God, does everyone know already? "Have you told anyone?"

“No! I didn't say anything and I didn't even try it with Luke. But how do you think I wouldn't notice? I've known him for years. He comes down Sunday morning, all smiling, all silly, more than usual. Super in a good mood after a party like that. Hemmings never wakes up in a good mood.”

I take a sip of my coffee, wanting to hide my smile.

“And about you?! You're my best friend! It's easy to see what's going on. Even more after what I already followed the first time. So?” the australian asks curiously, causing me to laugh.

"It was just a kiss. I don't know, it was automatic, and I ended up giving him a little kiss, and he took advantage of the break and kissed me. And I left.” my cheeks heat up as I hold in the sassy smile.

“And what does that mean?” he drops into his chair. I shrug.

“I do not know. I like Luke's company. I really like! He makes me feel safe and so unique. He's fun and so silly.”

"That he is!" Ash comments in a whisper, making me laugh.

“And I like it all, but…” the words don't come out anymore.

“You are afraid.” he completes.

"What if he gets to know me better and he doesn't like this Marnie?" I dry swallow. Ashton grimaces thoughtfully, considering my question.

“Nah!” he shakes his head, dismissing the possibility. “Luke loves you, Marnie. And you know this.” He points a finger at me. I look down, embarrassed. “The only thing left is for you to understand and accept how you feel about him. Of course, in your time, no pressure.” he adds quickly.

My heart speeds up with the direction of the conversation. I organize in my mind all the events that happened between Luke and me. All your discreet and indiscreet advances. All his looks and smiles at me, his shy, goofy way.

On the other side, I put everything that we lived before the accident. Everything I saw and remembered. I stare at Ashton, slumped in his chair, waiting for my answer. I take a deep breath, nodding my head positively.

“I think I already know how I feel about him.”

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Come Hell or Helwater - Part Fifteen

Claire comes back to the past with Brianna and arrives at Helwater looking for Jamie—but must confront the Dunsanys first.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen

******************************************

When Geneva left a few days later, she took her sister to stay with her. It had been their mother’s idea since Geneva insisted she didn’t need Claire to examine her again and that she was fine. But Claire could tell from the relief on Geneva’s face as she preceded Isobel into the carriage that Lady Dunsany’s idea had been planted there by her daughter. 

Claire could only shake her head at the young woman’s predicament and try to enjoy the fact that she would have her own daughter all to herself again.

Brianna appeared excited by the change in routine too. At least, she did at first. But by the end of the first week helping Claire tend to minor injuries and working in the herb gardens of the estate, Brianna was considerably less enthusiastic. Even when she began spending some of the days helping Jamie with his groom’s duties, Claire could sense something was off with Brianna. 

Claire too was beginning to find the excitement and novelty of Helwater wearing away. 

“You need to cut the stems at an angle,” Claire prompted Brianna as they crouched in the garden. Each had a basket next to them and a short blade with a sharp edge. 

Jamie had gifted them with the matching set, though Claire’s instincts screamed not to let her daughter wield something so potentially dangerous, Jamie had taken Brianna aside and given her a thorough training with it. 

“Be sure to remember, you should always—”

“Cut away from my body,” Brianna recited, exasperated. “Make sure my other fingers are out of the way. I know, Mama.”

“I know you know,” Claire said, apologetically. “I don’t say it to make you feel I don’t believe you know better. It’s more like one of your father’s superstitions. If I don’t say it, then it will happen. I’m saying it to protect you.” 

She paused in her own cutting to glance at Brianna who frowned back, unamused. 

They worked a while longer in silence before Claire finally broke down and asked, “Are you missing your lessons with Lady Isobel?”

Brianna shrugged but didn’t look at Claire. “Not really. I miss… I actually miss school. Back home in Boston. I miss my friends,” Brianna confessed.

Claire moved to sit beside Brianna. “Of course you do, sweetheart. It’s a lot you’ve given up and it’s only natural you would miss some of it — especially the friends you left behind. It’s not as though you can be pen pals with them. And there aren’t a lot of girls your age here at Helwater, either.”

“Sometimes… sometimes I get so bored and… I don’t have anyone to talk to,” Brianna said in a choked whisper. Claire watched one tear, then another, drop onto the tansy plant in front of her. “I’m glad to be here with Da but… I wish he could have come through and found us in Boston instead.” 

Claire set her knife aside and reached over to rub Brianna’s back. “You know, sometimes I wish the same thing,” she whispered back. 

Brianna’s head shot up, her face filled with disbelief and relief. “You do?”

Claire nodded. “There are a lot of things about the 20th century that I miss, too… like my friends. But I also know that they miss me and they want me to be happy – even if they don’t know where I am exactly. I wish they could meet your father.”

Brianna nodded. “I wish my friends from school could meet Da. They’d think he was a giant,” she giggled. 

“I miss the hospitals we left behind,” Claire continued. “The clean smell of the antiseptic. Proper medical equipment like x-rays and anesthetic to figure out what’s wrong and set it right with less fuss. Having the necessary medication at the ready instead of always feeling like I’m going to run out of what I need the moment it’s needed.”

“Yeah,” Brianna agreed, “this is a lot more work.”

“But the challenge can be fun too. Trying to make something without the proper tools is enjoyable when it isn’t an emergency.” 

“Like a puzzle.” 

“Precisely,” Claire smiled at her daughter. “What are some other things you miss?”

“Television. And music, like listening to the radio in the car.” Brianna tilted her head, her voice growing more animated as they spoke freely. “I mean, it’s nice not to have so many cars around. There’s plenty of space to play and it’s quieter. But it takes so long to get places, you might as well not go. Except when you don’t go places, it gets so boring.”

Claire chuckled. “There is certainly more limited entertainment in that way. And you’ll always miss those things – the books that haven’t been written yet, the music that hasn’t been composed yet, the films that won’t happen until the equipment to make them is invented. But there’s music that you would never know about if you weren’t here to experience it in person because the people making it don’t know how to write it down or they make it up as they play. And there are a lot of books that have been written.” 

“And we have Da to read them with us.” 

“Mmmmhmmm. And we might miss those other stories, but we got to read them or see them or hear them and we can share those with him as well.”

“There are a lot of little things to be sad about and a lot of little things to be happy about too,” Brianna summarized, her eyes wide with the truth of it. But a smile played at the corners of her mouth too. “I think I need to do a better job counting the happy ones.”

Claire watched Brianna as she turned back to their chores. Brianna did seem lighter as she held the plant steady with one hand and cut at the stems with the knife in the other. 

“I think I do too,” Claire murmured, turning back to her own basket and examining the bundles of cuttings she’d made. 

They lay neatly, all going in the same direction, still mostly clustered together into the groups she would bind together and hang for drying. After that task was done, there were those herbs that had already dried that would need to be crushed and mixed into the various ointments, salves, and decoctions most used in her healing on the estate. Few of those lasted long before spoiling so it was necessary to remake them on a regular schedule and dispose of what had gone unused in the last batch. It was a constant cycle of activity, something always needing to be done, that made it too easy to ignore the disappointment and sorrow building in her chest. 

She wanted a baby and every month that passed that she and Jamie failed to conceive, she sank a little further into that disappointment. It would consume her if she let it. 

But if she wrapped herself in that, it would block out the light of all she did have, most importantly the daughter before her. No matter how old she got, Brianna would always be her baby. All she had to do was close her eyes and she could remember the weight and warmth of that small body in her arms, the smell of the top of her head, the subtle differences of her various cries that only she had learned how to interpret. 

What’s more, she had Jamie again to share in everything yet to come. Brianna growing into a woman, courting boys, learning how to be a wife and mother, or whatever other path their daughter might decide to take — if anyone was likely to buck the expectations of an 18th century woman, it would be one who had spent her formative years in the 20th century.

She needed to focus on what she had and not what she wanted. She’d done that with Frank and it had left them miserable. It had worked out, in the end, and she’d been given what she wanted — a life with Jamie and their child — but she couldn’t expect to be so lucky again. Could she really have gotten used to having Jamie back so quickly? Was she already taking for granted the fact that she had him in her life once more?

“Mama? Are you already done?” Brianna asked, breaking Claire’s reverie. 

“Just counting, darling,” Claire said, shuffling down her row and taking up her knife again. “A few more should do it. Then we can head inside and move on to the next part.”

******************************************

As she lay in bed that night and Jamie turned towards her, she began counting under her breath. 

The way his fingers brushed her shift aside to expose her shoulder. “One.” The way his breath stirred her hair so it tickled her ear whenever he kissed along her jaw. “Two.” The way the heat of his body hovering just above hers had her back arching toward him, so eager for contact. “Three.” The way her skin felt like it was shrinking so that she might burst when his tongue traced its way down her torso. “Four.”

“Are ye makin’ sure I dinna miss a step, Sassenach?” Jamie asked with a chuckle as he lifted his head and grinned at her. 

“Just counting my blessings,” she told him, reaching down and running her fingers through his ruddy curls. “Brianna and I were discussing all the things we miss about Boston and all the things we’re happy to have here. There were several I left off my list at the time because I didn’t think it appropriate to share them with her. But now,” she purred, writhing as he bent his head back to teasing her. “Now I intend to take a full accounting.”

“Mmmm, well, I’ll see if I can make ye lose count.”

[cabinofimagines]

A Merry Happy Plan (Percy Jackson xS!Reader)

A/N: Wassup I got sick so tomorrow I’ll probably take a break from posting lmaoo I’ll do my best to do all the requests before New year tho, hope you like it! -Danny

Words: 1,676

Warnings: None!

Requests: Not any of those anons but I’d love some sibling shit. Maybe a holiday sibling thing with Percy where the reader isn’t super cheerful around the holidays because her mortal parent died around then and Percy finds his own way to get them into the holiday spirit.

If there’s something everyone knows, is that Percy loves his siblings.

Deeply, unconditionally and out loud. Percy would go to war (again) for any of them anytime if they asked. 

That’s why it hurts him so much to see Y/N suffering during Christmas.

This should be a happy time! To be together as a family, eat your all-time favorite food, watch the best movies ever created... sadly, Y/N can’t have it all.

Her mortal parent died a few years back when she was still a kid. Even though she’s been at camp for a long time, it hurts like it happened yesterday. Don’t get her wrong, she’s happy and all, she loves her brothers and she loves her friends, she wouldn’t change anything... 

Still, she wishes she could’ve had a bit more time with her mortal family. It’s unfair, she never asked for bad things to anyone, she was a good kid. Yet, everything always went wrong.

Percy had a plan, Y/N wasn’t a fan of the festivities, he understood and during the first years, he respected that, gave her space to rebuild her life. Now though, he knows it’s time to help her a little, make her see that things can be good, no need to focus and drown on sad memories when she could be creating new ones.

It was December 23rd, Y/N was snoring lightly on her bed, all her body hidden under the covers. Percy sneaked quietly inside the cabin, he had a big suitcase beside him and a large coat hanging from his arm. He left both things next to the door and walk over to where his sister was sleeping, then pulled down the covers completely with one harsh tug.

“Good morning!”

“Mmph...” Y/N grunted, looking for the blankets blindly, “not now, Percy”

“Yes now,” He insisted, grabbing a handful of the fabric and pulling it away from the bed, “you’re coming with me”

“You know I’m not in the mood,” She replied, still half-asleep.

“That’s exactly why I’m picking you up,” Percy replied, sitting on the edge of the bed, “you’re spending Christmas with me and my family this year”

“What?” She rubbed her eyes, thinking maybe she was hallucinating, “I’m not allowed to leave camp, you know that”

“You are now, at least until New Year,” He smiles, “just came from asking Chiron for permission to take you with me”

Y/N sat up slowly, too confused and sleepy.

“Why?”

“Because you need this,” Percy put a hand on her shoulder, “you need to be with your family right now, not alone.”

“My family?” She frowned.

“Your brother,” He pointed to himself, “and my mom has heard so much about you she can’t wait to actually meet you. Same with Paul, and Estelle is so tiny you’ll love her right away, and I’m sure she’ll love you just as much”

“You don’t have to do this,” Y/N felt a lump in her throat that she was quick to push back.

“Maybe, but I care about you a bit too much to let you have another bad Christmas”

“I don’t even celebrate Christmas, Percy” She rolled her eyes.

“But it’s not because you don’t like it!” He retorted, “Or because of your religion or whatever. No, this is because you've been trapped in this mourning ever since... I just want you to be happy, all the time.”

“What would I even do back at your place?” She questioned nervously, “What if your family doesn’t like me once they get to know me?”

“Don’t be silly, you’re the best!” He chuckled, “Come on, my mom will help us to bake cookies and I’ll show you my favorite Christmas movies, you’ll have fun!”

“I don’t know if I should be having fun during this time of the year,” She shifted uncomfortably, “It’s disrespectful”

“It’s been years, Y/N/N” He held her hand and gave a gentle squeeze, “I’m sure they would’ve wanted to see you enjoying yourself rather than this”

“I...” She pondered the offer, maybe Percy was right. What was the use of moping? Of course she missed her parent, of course she felt like a part of her was missing, but did she really had to go through that pain on her own?

“Can you give me fifteen minutes to get ready?” She asked, “I need to get my stuff...”

“You’re coming?” Percy got up, excitedly walking over to the suitcase by the door.

“I guess, I’ll give it a shot”

“Awesome!” He dragged the suitcase and the coat over to your bed, leaving them beside you, “You can put all your clothes in there and that coat is for when we get out of camp, outside the limits it’s freezing cold so you’re gonna need it”

“You did plan everything, huh?” She chuckles, getting up and walking towards the bathroom.

“I’m taking care of my little sister, that’s all”

After half an hour, Y/N was ready to leave camp. She wished the best for her friends while she was gone, and got inside the car with Percy.

“You came here on your own?”

“Yeah, I got my license, remember?”

“Sometimes I forget how big you really are,” She grinned, ruffling his hair.

“Back off! I don’t wanna crash my mom’s car!”

“Sorry,” She raised her hands in defeat.

The trip was soothing, Percy sang along (pretty badly) to whatever it was on the radio and successfully made his sister laugh. She was terrified to meet his family, but he made a great job keeping her calm.

When they arrived, Percy grabbed her suitcase and waited until she was all wrapped up on her coat.

“Gods! Is it always this cold here?” 

“Every year,” He smiled, “let’s go, the faster you leave the street the better”

“Okay...” She sighed, “guess there’s no use to wait any longer”

“Just breathe, you’ll do fine,” He patted her back lovingly, opening the door for her to enter the building.

The little girl had strong lungs, Y/N could hear her screams from the hall, they were happy though. Like she was playing something that got her quite excited.

“Y/N,” Percy said cheerfully, “meet my family...”

She tried to control the way her hands were shaking and wore the best smile she could muster at the moment.

“Mom! We’re home!”

“She’s here?” Y/N heard a woman’s voice coming from the kitchen, “I’m coming!”

Her first impression of Sally Jackson was: “That’s how a mom should always look like”. She was feisty and had a kind smile, her hair was soft and when she leaned in to give Y/N a hug, she smelled like flowers.

“You’re bigger than I thought,” Sally grinned, “look at you! Percy has a picture of you when you were this tiny,” She lowers her hand to her chest and laughs, “but it looks like that was a long time ago”

“I-Uh,” Y/N looked over to Percy, who only nodded as a way to encourage her, “yeah, I think that picture is from when I was thirteen”

“Oh, hi” Paul Blofis appeared, he was carrying a young baby girl, who had to be Estelle, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N”

The little girl stared at her intently, like it was the most interesting thing she’s ever seen, suddenly, she stretched her arms towards her and whimpers.

“Hey, seems like Estelle was also eager to meet you!” Percy chuckled, walking towards the hall where the bedrooms are, “I’m going to leave your suitcase, make yourself at home”

“Okay,” Y/N had her eyes fixed on the little girl, not sure of what to do.

“You wanna hold her?” Asked Paul.

“I don’t want to upset her...” She hesitated.

“I think she wants you to do that,” He looked over to his daughter, the baby squirming on his arms, trying to get to her, “it’s not hard, I’ll help you”

He then put Estelle on Y/N’s arms, who was drowning in anxiety.

“Am I, uh-Is this?”

“That’s okay,” Paul nodded, “It looks like she’s a big fan”

“Hi,” Y/N smiled nervously, “I’m your brother’s sister...”

“Paul, would you help me back in the kitchen?” Sally put a hand on his husband’s arm and he complied, “Thank you. Is it okay if we leave you with Estelle?”

“Don’t worry, I got it,” The girl smiled, holding her tightly against her chest.

Y/N walked over to the room where she heard some noises and assumed that’s the room she’d be sleeping during those days. When she opened the door, she saw Percy’s room.

“Oh, sorry,” She quickly apologized, “I thought this was the guest room...”

“We don’t have a guest room,” Percy replied in amusement, “you’re staying here in my room”

“Oh,” She stood there for a moment, unsure, “alright...”

“I mean, if that’s okay with you-”

“No, yes it is,” She replied quickly, “uh, your family is nice.”

“They’re kind of your family too, you know?” He smiled shyly.

“That’s nice,” Estelle giggled, playing with Y/N’s hair, “I could get used to that”

“Nothing’s stopping you,” He shrugged, “you don’t bother us. If anything I think that maybe you could make our family more... whole, you know?”

She stayed quiet, not knowing how to answer.

“I’m just glad you feel comfortable here,” Percy added, feeling his sister’s nervousness, “we can turn this into our own tradition”

“Yes,” Y/N grinned, softly caressing Estelle’s hair, “that would be cool... thank you, Percy”

“No problem,” He smiled back.

Sally’s voice came out from the kitchen, announcing it was time to teach the kids how to bake and Percy’s eyes instantly lighted up.

“Oh, you’re gonna love this,” He says excitedly, passing her by to rush to the kitchen.

“I think you may be right,” She whispered, playing with the baby’s hand and smiling to herself, a more confident expression as she walked out of the room.

This would be the best Christmas ever.

[nurseofren]

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 14 (NSFW)

Read on AO3

Read chapter thirteen

Title: Down for the Count

Words: 7400

Summary: The Jaws theme is playing throughout this chapter, it just wasn't relevant enough to the plot to mention it.

ST rambles: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I had a lot of fun writing all the different interactions. As I mentioned last week, this chapter was supposed to be completely different. I will not be releasing the alternative as I have plans to use some aspects at another point.

I cannot promise a chapter for the next week or two as I have a paper due this Saturday and will need to focus my writing and time on that. I like to stay at least a chapter ahead, so I say two weeks to be on the side of caution.

[masterlist]

“Let’s not waste any time, shall we, officer?” Hux said, eyes concentrated on the tablet in his hands, storming past you into his office.

The night had not been restful; your back was recovering from the unforgiving exam table, its intended use not one of comfort, but necessity. Along with the incessant pang radiating at your tailbone, the lack of sleep had outfitted you with reddened eyes and an overwhelming headache, every too-loud sound and overbearing light a throb at your temple. Even as you stood to enter into Hux’s lair of career-ending lecturing, you found comfort in the fact that you wouldn’t have to return to your sleepless confines before the day was over.

With one last steeling breath, you pulled your shoulders back and followed in after Hux, taking in the familiar space, unchanged since your last time being here. Hux had already sat down before you’d entered, still focused on his datapad. Whatever he was looking at was no doubt aimed towards the severing of either your ties with the First Order, or the ties between your head and body – either of which he was excited to take part in.

“General,” you said, taking a cautious seat across from him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this early encounter?” The words were mostly civil, only dipped in mockery.

“And it is a pleasure, officer,” he said with one final aggressive tap to the screen, staring at you in malevolent glee. “Now, I should first inform you that you are still contractually bound to Commander Ren until your official denouncement by the Board of Physicians. Other than that, this is the beginning of the end, I am disheartened to say.”

“I’m sure of it.” The goal was to make it through this meeting without digging a deeper hole for yourself, and that meant taking Hux’s snide comments in stride and withholding your own snark.

“Although I thought it was counterintuitive, I am legally bound to tell you that you will be under heavy surveillance. Not only in your practice as a physician – which will be extremely limited while the investigation goes on, by the way – but in your day to day life as well.”

“What? Why?” The words were quick and emotional, coming before you could stop them. He raised an eyebrow, the outburst only offering him more reasons to expedite your dismissal. Clicking your tongue, you regathered yourself. “I’m sorry, general. Why am I being watched?”

Keeping your stare, he slid the datapad across the desk. “The Board of Physicians has deemed it necessary to not only question your competency as a provider, but also your character as an individual.”

Finding a vague familiarity in the event, you half-hoped for the door to rush open and Kylo Ren to come take you away. To your dismay, however delusional and misplaced, the room stayed quiet of the hydraulic hiss, the only sound inhabiting the room being that of the cyclic boots of patrolling stormtroopers beyond the office. With a swallow, you took the tablet into your own hands and scanned over the screen, finding another legal document. This time, though, not displaying the pointed script of Kylo Ren, but that of another familiar face; within your hold was Talia’s incident report, scanned into its electronic existence from her original penmanship.

“I trust you’re aware of what that is, yes?” Hux asked.

His voice was muffled, background noise to your focus on the document. Not reading a single word, too nervous to know how she told the story, you mindlessly scrolled through the pages, regarding its length even in her small script. Nearing the bottom, there was an occasional edit, a typed word among her handwriting. Looking closer, you realized the necessity of the print, noting the original penning had been defaced with interruptions, splotches of dried tears contorting her testimony.

“Oh, Talia,” you whispered to yourself, reaching for the stitching on your chest, fidgeting your sorrow along those three letters just as you had hours earlier.

“Didn’t she do a wonderful job at recounting the occurrence?” Hux’s voice pierced through your pain-laced reverie. “Truly a professional if I’ve ever seen one. Her dutiful reporting of the event proved her allegiance to the First Order, allowing her to receive a warning instead of a sentence.”

“What is your purpose in showing this to me?”

“You’ll eventually get your own copy,” he said. “I figured you’d need a refresh of the events that led you here.”

“I… will never forget that day, General Hux,” you said, peeling away from the tablet.

“Good. You’ll need that ability of recall when you go in front of the Board of Physicians to state you case.”

Unrelated to the environment, a chill fled over your skin. You wanted to believe that he’d misspoke, but he would never mess up relaying anything so pertinent. The Board of Physicians had called for your presence. It made sense, your actions – a crime in their eyes – had directly involved them, their existence being what funded your position, though you never thought they would think it necessary to summon you for a trial. Yes, ethically you had messed up, but you had thought this would be a quick loss, not one that incited you ever coming face to face with the heads of your profession.

Although you’d worked hard at staving off the endless dread since leaving the assessment room, it now slowly crept into your stomach, tightening your chest in its clutch. In the throes of budding panic, your leg sprang up, bouncing silently, a conscious effort to not let your heel hit the floor. “Why do I need to present my case? They should know what happened by now.”

He cleared his throat. “And they do, which is precisely why they called for your audience. Since you were selected for this new endeavor of provider assignments, they are concerned that their investment in the First Order isn’t paying off as they had intended, and by your formal appearance they seek to revise the program for the future.”

A huff of air flared your nostrils. “They’re making an example out of me. How nice of them to choose public humiliation instead of execution.”

His brow creased. “I don’t think you quite understand,” he said. “You have been accused of first-degree larceny. You will lose your license after appearing before them, but the basis for your execution is subject to their judgement.”

“What have I done that would justify the end of my life?”

“You stole from the First Order, byway stealing from the Board of Physicians. Contrary to what you may want to believe, your actions do have consequences, miss,” he bit your last name off.

“I stole? I saved a man’s life by taking blood that would have expired had I not thought of it. How can they not see that?”

“It doesn’t matter what you did with the blood, although you will be questioned on the ethics of transfusing a blood product that had not been properly crossmatched. What matters is the principle. The First Order does not take any crime lightly, but with your being a beta-tester for this brand-new program, compliance among providers is a priority that is to be enforced.”

Everything the Elite does is unfair. Talia’s voice rang loud as you fought back the need to scream, to flip his desk over, to run to the nearest escape pod and shoot off to some far away planet where nobody could find you. It no longer mattered if their actions were unfair, now only caring that they were wholly unjustified, using you as an example, invalidly exploiting you to incite fear amongst your peers, to set a precedent. It was wrong, lawfully and morally, and you’d had your fill.

“I don’t deserve to die. It is sick knowing the backwards logic you’ve twisted just to rid yourself of me,” your voice was husky with restrained rage.

“This has nothing to do with me, officer. This is completely on you. You made your bed, now lie in it.”

“I did nothing wrong!” You cried out. “I’m a convenient way of pushing some agenda that the First Order takes no prisoners. I’m not even getting punished for what I did, I’m getting exploited to make a point, to act as some warning for years to come.” You were on the edge of your seat, ready to shoot into the ceiling.

Hux sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, watching you draw nearer to spilling over. He tsked, narrowing his eyes, confusion pinching his face. “What’s changed, officer?”

“What are you talking about?”

“In our meeting on the Finalizer, you seemed unphased by the prospect of losing your career. Now, it seems you’re fighting to stay here. Why is that?”

It was something you hadn’t considered. His question begged a truth you hadn’t yet confronted: you did want to keep your assignment. It was as much a revelation to you as it was to him, sending you back in your chair, replacing your rage with quiet shock. What had changed? A week ago you were actively trying to convince yourself you were okay with dying, but now it was all you could do to fathom the thought of merely losing your license. There had been so much anger residing within you; where had it gone? And why was Hux right?

”Oh,” you breathed, eyes fading into your memory.

You deserve to be here. Kylo Ren’s voice, soft in the night, echoed in remembrance; the figment of his past face cast is the celestial shadows remained vivid, a living memory, nearly tangible in its clarity. The admission had floored you when he’d first spoken it, and nothing had changed, still losing your ability to think straight as the words reverberated around your thoughts and stole your breath. You’d run from the bond in his words, too scared of their truth. But, that was just it; they were true. There was no ill intent hidden behind them, the only thing residing in them an unadulterated sense of reciprocated trust.

His words should have lost all meaning when he pulled away that night, although you’d pulled away first; but, here, before Hux, you knew that Kylo Ren was what had sparked the paradigm shift. He had pulverized your heart that night, and you still hadn’t fully recovered, but it was undeniable, even now: the reason you wanted to stay was because you’d realized your purpose – the worth you now felt in your position had been solely provided by Kylo Ren.

“What happened to not wasting t-,”

“I deserve to be here,” you said, echoing your master. “No, I want to be here. I have just as much a place in the Elite as Talia Harper does.” An incredulous laugh left you. “I deserve this.”

Hux, alarmed by your newfound fire, sat forward, leaning on his elbows and tenting his fingers. “Those are powerful words. But I suspect you’ll need a stronger defense when convincing your superiors to spare you.”

“I’m good at my job. I saved that man; I’m not wasting time trying to convince you of that fact,” you said, no longer affected by his attempts at intimidation. “They can watch me all they want. They won’t find anything but the fact that I am a damn good nurse who has effectively kept the Commander of the First Order alive and well with no assistance.”

Hux’s scowl had returned in all its glory. “We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” His eye twitched. “Later today you will receive an email informing you of all the expectations surrounding the trial. The dates have yet to be determined, but they are adamant in their desire to get this off their docket as soon as possible – for safety’s sake, of course.”

Unblinking, you stared back in silence, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. He continued. “You will need to arrange for travel, as the trial will be conducted on Canto Bight over the course of one to two weeks, depending on the judgement you receive.”

“Canto Bight? Why wouldn’t it be held here on Starkiller?”

“The Board of Physicians’ headquarters is located there. You should know this, although I shouldn’t be surprised you don’t at this point.”

Cracking inwardly, you needed to leave before you spewed hell fire down on him. Clearing your throat and squaring your shoulders, you steadied yourself before speaking. “I’ll keep an eye out for that email. Now, is that all? Am I free to go?”

His lips pursed. “For now,” he said. You got up and walked to the door. “But, remember officer, you are barely free from this moment on.” His eyes pointed to the upper corner of the room.

Sucking your teeth, you entertained him, tracking your eyes with his, finding a security camera angled down to you. Such an ass. “Have a nice day, General,” you said, slipping out of his view before he could get the last word.

The wide-open communal area of the Elite floor was even busier than last night, nearly double the amount of stormtroopers marching around. There also seemed to be an increase in employee population in general, the expanse buzzing with a constant influx of engineers, pilots and technicians. Maybe it was the fact you’d only been here during normal human hours once, only ever seeing the graveyard crowd when you’d reported for your shift, but every new encounter with the main functioning centers of the First Order painted a clearer image of the ever-rising tensions with the Resistance. There had been a few emails you scanned through mentioning an effort to destroy the Republic, but it never seemed pertinent to pay attention to them, feeling they didn’t have a direct effect on your life.

With your head tucked into your shoulders and your arms wound tightly across your chest, you walked into the thick of patrolmen, having no particular destination in mind. Halfway through your trek across the floor, your phone buzzed. Figuring your watch would have dinged if it was anything important, you kept your focus on making your way through the room. But it buzzed again, and again – urgent vibrations sounding through your uniform. Without breaking your stride, and keeping your head down, you pulled it from your pocket, seeing it was Mason.

Before getting a chance to read his messages, the screen lit up with his caller ID. You were in the dead center of the floor, everyone could see you, and though you wanted to be far away from the circling soldiers, it seemed safer to be visible than skulking in a corner; if Robbie were lurking around, he wouldn’t try anything so public. At least you hoped he wouldn’t.

On its last ring, you accepted the call. “Hey, Mason,” you said, peering around.

“Hey! Why did you call me last night? And sorry, Soto has me running forty-eights right now so I’m never around my phone,” Mason explained, grog in his voice, either just waking up or in the process of getting rest.

Last night flashed through your memory, recounting the damaged door, the scratch marks, the dents, the blaring red caution tape tying the terrorizing scene together; it quickened your heart, that feeling of all-consuming dread threatening to return in its entirety. The stiffness at your back pulled you back to reality, reminding you why you had called him. “Actually, I was wondering if I could stay with you for a while.”

The line stayed quiet for a moment, the bustling noises blockading you from hearing his tired breathing. “I mean, of course you can. You know that. But is there any particular reason? Is there something going on,” he attached your name to the end of the question, genuine concern rasping through his exhaustion.

“No, everything is fine, I’m…” The words came too fast, a defense mechanism you’d adapted to keep people from worrying about you. But this was Mason. He knew your tics.

“Spill. Now.” It was a demand, no hint of request in his tone, suddenly less tired than a second ago.

“I know, I do,” you said, pressing your hand against your forehead, scanning the room. “Do you remember that guy I told you about before leaving for the Finalizer?”

“I’ll kill him. What did he do to you? I swear, I - just give me a name and-,”

“Mason.” You chided him, feeling like his words would somehow attract attention. “You’re not killing anyone. Just – I went out with him the night I departed, and it… didn’t go as planned. Okay?”

“Sure, but what does that have to do with you not being able to go home?”

This was it. Telling Mason would only solidify your reality. “So, maybe it went a lot worse than planned. Like. A lot worse. And I think he may have broken into my place while I was gone, and I’m really worried that if I go home that he’ll come and, and…” Your throat thickened, anxiety stealing your words.

“Oh my God!” Your admission had infused his voice with alarm. “Yes, yes. Come here tonight. I’ll call out and we can talk. Okay?”

“Mason, you don’t have to call out. I know how important your residency is. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“You are important to me. And I don’t want you to be alone, not with some psycho out to get you.”

His words warmed you, feeling something other than stress or fear or anguish for the first time in months. But, before you could respond, he spoke with an urgency, realization overtaking him. “Wait. Where did you sleep last night? Oh my – I’m so sorry, I-,”

“Hey, no. It’s okay. You were working. You didn’t know, Mason,” you said. “I slept in the assessment room. It’s private and locked. I was safe. Please do not blame yourself for something you couldn’t control”

A long breath left him, audible even with the synchronized marching swirling around you. “You’re okay now, though, right?”

“I am… trying my hardest. I just really need a break from everything.”

“Well I’ll be all ears tonight. I can pick something up for dinner if you want?”

“Mason, you’re already being too kind by letting me crash. Thank you, again.”

“You never have to ask. My door is always open,” he said, grogginess creeping back into his voice. “Hey, before you go, could you tell me what this bastard is called? I need to assign a name to the violent things I’m imagining right now.”

It was the first true laugh, however short or quiet, you’d had in a while. “Oh, Mason,” you said. “His name is Robbie. Technically. I’ll get into it later.”

“What does that mean?” His last word was a yawn.

“Go to sleep. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

Another yawn resonated through the phone. “Fine. See you tonight. Love you.” He hung up, potentially falling asleep before he could put his own phone down.

“Good to see you haven’t forgotten about me.”

As if you’d gone back in time, that same unease tore into you, robbing you of breath and stealing your equilibrium. It was him. This was what you’d been dreading since before leaving. Behind you stood the most uprooting factor in your life – Robbie was within feet of you, the familiar modulation of his voice immobilizing.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he said, sauntering into your line of sight. “You’ve been gone so long,” he rolled your name off, violating as the syllables left his tongue, “I’ve missed you.”

The absence of food in your stomach was a blessing, knowing the adrenaline contracting your body would have ejected it from your system by now. The thoughts swirling around your head were an amass of chaos; echoes and amplifications of fear and impulses, conflicting in their commands – run! Don’t run! Punch! No, kick! Scream! Stay silent! It was all you could do not to fall forward, your knees trembling, readying to give out any second.

“Speak to me with that beautiful voice. I’ve been imagining it for months now, telling me how sorry you are for leaving me.”

What did you have to be sorry for? To him? Snapping your face to his, you snarled, chin trembling. “Excuse me? Sorry? I have nothing to apologize for.”

He hummed, the sound nauseating. “You’re so cute when you’re angry. Is this our first fight?” He circled your wrist in his armored hand. “Let me make up for it, baby.”

“Get the fuck away from me, you freak!” You growled, struggling against his grip, flinging your trapped wrist until it broke free. There was a lasting ache where his fingers had been anchored.

“Hey, hey. No need for hostility,” he said. “I’m just so happy you’re back.”

Your heart threatened to burst your carotids, pulsing angrily over your entire body. “Oh, you are? Why? So you can break into my apartment again? Maybe finish the job you’d had in mind before you realized I was gone? Hm?”

This got to him, his hands wringing at his sides as his posture hardened. “I hadn’t seen you, and you left without saying goodbye.”

“How would you know if I didn’t say goodbye? In my memory – which, by the way, is exceptionally clearer than yours of that night – you passed out drunk before I got the chance. Or do you not remember that?”

“You little bitch,” he barked, drawing the attention of the passing stormtroopers. “Who’d you tell, huh? How’d you get me fired from Ren’s detail?”

Defensively, you took a step back, distancing yourself from his reach. “You did this to yourself, Robbie.” Wanting to hurt him back, you pulled your claws out. “Oh, wait, please forgive me. I meant RB-6745. Forgot for a sec-,”

“My name is Robbie.” The words tore through his throat as he lunged forward, reaching out to you.

“RB-6745,” a voice called from behind him. It was Captain Phasma. “Why have you abandoned your station?”

She walked militantly towards you, her chrome armor glinting with flashes of white as she passed by coupled soldiers. Robbie’s hands clutched below his waist, her presence bringing reluctant resolution to his outburst. When he turned, your face fell from its tight contortion of fear, not having realized you’d flinched away from his incoming assault.

“I apologize, captain,” he said, irritated at her interruption. “I thought it was my break.”

Phasma stopped about three paces from you, staring between you and your masked mistake. “Commander Ren’s ex-charge has had trouble adjusting to maintenance duty,” she said, your reflection bouncing off of her chrome helmet as she addressed you, turning to Robbie before she continued. “Come. I’ll show you back to the engine sector, as you seem to have forgotten the route. Again.”

Phasma motioned Robbie to lead the way. He turned back to you, leaning down and bumping your side against his shoulder in his passing. “This isn’t over,” your name a curse on his lips once more.

Phasma stopped in front of you before following after him. “I didn’t come here with the intention of rounding up one of my men, but it seems I can kill two birds with one stone.”

Clearing your throat, you pulled your shoulders back, her presence commanding the respect that Hux’s never could. “Captain?”

“Commander Ren instructed me to inform you to meet him in his assessment room. He says it’s a pressing matter.” She marched past you, not waiting for a response.

You stood there motionless, still standing at attention, listening as she led Robbie away. It was easier to stay here, to forget what she’d told you and pretend that there was nothing waiting for you beyond the assessment room hatch. But there was. In your nervous rush this morning, more focused on being extra early for Hux’s meeting, you hadn’t thought to tidy up your temporary dwellings; the room was still made up with a loose cape draping over the exam table, two stray socks strewn about the room, and an open bottle of hydrogen peroxide – a makeshift mouthwash in leu of a toothbrush. And now a new addition – clothed in black, hands undoubtedly balled into fists – awaited you. There was a pressing matter, but it had nothing to do with Kylo Ren’s wellbeing and everything to do with your soon-to-be lack of.

Considering it was like wading through mud to break past the shrouds of stormtroopers, your nerves had already worn thin since stepping into the docking bay, but acknowledging how you’d left Kylo Ren last night – his flaming sword of rage swinging destruction around you – the journey back towards the med bay was not one of a casual stride. With a quickened pace the hatch came into view sooner than you’d hoped, simultaneously wanting to get there to explain yourself while also wishing the floor would swallow you whole so you wouldn’t have to deal with Kylo Ren’s theatrics. Within a couple strides, the door slid open, revealing the undeniable presence of your master.

“This’ll be fun,” you said under your breath, smoothing over your uniform with nervous hands.

Passing through the threshold, it whirred shut behind you, its motion sending a rush of chilled air over your legs, whipping the back of your skirt to the side. Kylo was on one side of the exam table, clutching the cape, one of his socks hanging loosely from his other hand. Hidden in his helmet, you could only assume the eyes boring into you matched the fury of his fist.

“There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this,” you said, tone hesitant and low, guarding against a reappearance of his lightsaber.

His hand stayed rooted in the cape; his warped voice venomously low. “Then explain.”

Staying close to the wall, you circled around him, leaning against the metal counter behind you, grasping onto the edges. “I had to sleep here last night.”

“That is evident, officer.”

“Okay. I couldn’t go home last night.”

“I can make you talk. You know this.” His hand lifted the cape, clutching it up to his chest.

Swallowing, the metal ridges of the countertop bit into your grip. It felt like admitting why you couldn’t go home was accepting a defeat, like he’d won the argument pertaining to your need for protection. You chewed your cheek, looking down at your feet and closing your eyes. “I did actually go home last night. I didn’t just stay here out of preference.”

“Then why?”

“When I got home,” you sighed, looking back over to him, “I found my place had been broken into. And I’m pretty sure I know who did it, and I didn’t feel safe sleeping there.”

“The stormtrooper,” he said, dropping the sock to the ground. “That’s who you think did it.”

“Uh, yeah. There was a maintenance report that said-,”

“A maintenance report?”

His interest surprised you. “Yeah, the lock had been tampered with and the door had been… defaced. Scratch marks, dents. And it had been reported a couple days after our departure for the Finalizer.”

“A couple days after seeing him,” his voice was eerily calm, like he was only trying to understand you.

You paused to look at him, analyzing the intent that remained hidden with his eyes. “And before I came here, before Phasma told me to meet you, I ran into him. Well, I don’t know if I’d describe it so casually, but nonetheless.”

His hand came back down, freeing the cape from his grip, letting it pile up on the table. “How would you describe it?” He began circling towards you.

It was too much to verbalize the fear Robbie had incited, wanting to pretend he didn’t exist. “I… don’t know.”

“You’re afraid,” he said, drawing closer with each careful step. “You think he’s watching you, stalking you like prey – that’s it, right?”

Swallowing, you wished he didn’t possess the ability to feel everything you did, pinpointing your emotions better than you could. You nodded, looking up to his visor, his frame working to consume yours as the distance closed between you.

His hands came down next to yours, brushing the sides of your pinkies with his gloved grip. He leaned down to you, his gaze centered on your eyes. “You can’t stay here again.” It wasn’t darkness in his voice, or even command; he was only stating what you knew as truth.

The sound of his muffled breathing flourished over your arms, your own breathing newly audible. “I know,” you swallowed. “I’m not. I figured something out.”

“Did you?” His hands dropped from the counter to wander over the fronts of your thighs, skimming his thumbs just under the hem of your uniform. “Tell me, where are you staying tonight?” He leaned into the crook of your neck, the brush of metal eliciting the heat of your cheeks.

You breathed out, his teasing touch evaporating your train of thought. “With a, with a friend.”

His leather-covered fingers rooted just below the curve of your ass, his thumbs sliding up and down, streaking sparks in their repetitive paths. “Mm, wrong answer.” Kylo dug into your thighs, tearing your feet from the ground, propping you up onto the chilled counter.

The metal bit at your skin, making you seethe at the contrast. He parted your knees so he could stand between them, tracing his hands over the excited skin; the warmth of his gloves washed over you, stealing your focus as they slipped under your skirt once more, his thumbnails dipping just under the seams of your panties. With a steadying effort, you gathered your thoughts. “What? How am I wrong?”

His breath was getting thicker at your ear, his unaltered voice trickling through the modulation at his proximity. “You’re staying with me.”

In the throes of his distraction, you distantly regarded your meeting with Hux, remembering the surveillance order hanging over you. “I can’t,” you said, reveling in the feel of his thumbs inching ever closer to the apex of your thighs.

“I’m not asking.” Your core throbbed at the nonchalance of his voice, so sure and casual.

At the stitching of your panties, he hooked two fingers below the thin fabric, dragging them perpendicular down your slit; his gentle petting caught your breath, pulling you from your defense. “I’m being watched,” you said, the words falling as your lungs did. “I have to at least appear professional.”

He hummed, the modulation vibrating down your neck. “Your trial. I thought you were fine with whatever consequences your actions presented.”

The tips of his fingers slid between your folds, pressing around your entrance, forcing a small moan from your lips. “I was,” you breathed.

The pressure at your entrance slid up your slit; his fingers rolled your clit between them, the seams of his gloves offering an additional friction over the sensitive bundle. His other hand pressed into the pliant flesh of your inner thigh, mindlessly kneading it while your lungs chorused for his touch. “Past tense. Why is that?”

The sensation of the rough leather slick with your want robbed you of words, feeling his other digits stroke over the outside of your folds as they tortured you with their leisure. “I realized,” you said, tone shaky, “I may deserve to be here after all.”

Just as you were when he’d said them, he was immobilized; both his hands stopped moving, relaxing and resting in place as his head pulled away from your neck, your core pleading for his action to resume. But he only stood there, staring at you beyond the mask, the indecisive path of his eyes evident over your skin.

“Where do you deserve to be?” His voice was low, the modulation cutting out subtly.

Grinding against his hand, begging him to commence his earlier advances, you gaped in front of him, gaze pointedly aimed into his visor. “You know where.”

His hand left your slit, forcing a snuffed whine at the absence of his touch. “Tell me, officer. Where is ‘here’?”

There was something irresistible about his teasing, sitting here, legs splayed to receive him; your chest rose, absorbing his hidden stare. When he lifted his hands to either side of his helmet, your heart picked up in anticipation, your blood rushing at the prospect of his enamoring face. The locks hissed and he ducked out of his confines, shaking his head to clear his face of any stray strands. Not taking his eyes from yours, he placed the helmet beside you.

He pulled at the fingers of his gloves, separating them from the tips of his digits. “I won’t ask you again,” his jaw wasn’t set, lips slightly lifted at the corners, twisted in the subtlest of smirks.

“Here…” You looked over his features, silently praising his freckles, in awe of how such a sweet feature could be present under eyes so haunted.

“Yes,” the tail end of your name rose in pitch, a question, lascivious and redundant.

“Here is,” your focus shifted down to his lips, heart fluttering faster imagining them against yours. “Here is with you, as your provider. Appointed by you,” your breath shuddered, his lips fluid before you, “under the First Order.”

He hummed, face sly as his brow raised and his chin pointed towards you, placing his gloves with his helmet and returning his touch. With his hands on either of your thighs, your body buzzed as your pulse took prominent residence between your legs. His head advanced so the tips of your noses nearly touched, his breath mingling with yours. Flitting between your eyes and your lips, his eyes held the same appreciation for you as yours did him. “It only took you a couple months.”

“What are you talking about?”

His thumbs pinched into the crease of your thighs, his fingers splayed over the curve of your hips. With his lips whispering against yours, short shocks lighting at each accidental meet, he closed his eyes, prompting yours shut immediately after. “To listen to me.”

He pressed his mouth to yours, lips soft as his need reigned unmatched; it was a collision, a bludgeoning, a massacre of every atom separating you in an attempt to brand his mouth to yours. The intensity residing in his fervor fluttered your heartbeat, your core surging with chaos to find his touch again. Without leaving your lips, he slid you away from the counter, your extremities binding yourself to him as he carried you to the exam table.

Your head fell back over the piled cape, smelling the leather below, admiring its owner above. With your knees framing him, his hands slid down your thighs as his lips fell to your jaw. “Are you going to keep listening to me?” He said, the words divided as his lips traced to your neck.

As he knelt forward on his knees, his arms clutched into the edges of the table at either side of your head, you reveled in the heated shelter of his body. Without prompt, your knees locked around him, wanting him closer, needing him against you. It was in vain, though, his strength too much to overpower. One of his hands reached between his legs, mussing with his belt and layered uniform.

“Tell your friend,” he said, seething as his cock sprang away from its constriction, “you found other plans.”

Peering down over your chest, you caught view of his length, bobbing as he moved over you. You swallowed, your hands gripped around the flexing muscles of his upper arms. “I can’t.”

At your ear, Kylo grunted, tearing away from you and sitting back on his knees. He looked over you, palming his erection, face blank while he gathered precum at his tip and smoothed it over himself. “Roll over, then.”

There was no emotion to his voice, flat as his face was. You pulled back your elbows and rested on them. When you opened your mouth to contest, his eyes flared in warning, a brow lifting to question if you really wanted to challenge him. Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth, you gathered your legs and turned over so your chest was against the exam table, face flat against the now warmed leather, hands at either side of your face.

“Better,” he said.

Behind you, his hands came down over yours, his nose tracing over the helix of your raised ear. “I’m going to make you cum on my cock, and then tonight, in my quarters, you’re going to have another lesson in obedience.”

He pulled away, quickly lifting your hips so your knees and forearms bore your weight, the leather slippery beneath your warmed skin. He stood on his knees behind you, flipping your skirt up and pulling your panties down to your knees. Your name was a praise from his lips, a stark contrast from when it had come from Robbie. “Always so wet for me,” he said, pushing a finger from your entrance and down to your raised clit.

You bucked into his hand, moaning, needing more. “Kylo, you have to understand, I ca-,”

His touch left you, but quickly came back with full force, smacking against your exposed entrance, a wet echo filling the room. Every muscle below your abdomen clenched, your fists balling at the sides of your head. “I do understand, officer,” he said, smoothing his hands over your ass, digging his fingers into your hips. “But you need to understand something yourself,” the pleasant presence of a familiar pressure grazed your entrance, stretching you in its tease. “I don’t care.”

He pulled back on your hips, sheathing himself against the tight, drumming walls of your core. A long, drawn out groan tied itself to an awe-inspired cry, garbling out into nonsense as he shattered your pelvis, splitting you open to receive his merciless length all at once. With your hips high and his hands locking them to his, your walls sparked around him, feeling him throb inside of you.

“It’s been too long since this pussy broke for me,” he seethed, even out of sight you could hear the strain of his jaw. “Fuck, I forgot how good you feel.”

He pushed your hips forward, sliding out of you, absorbing the feel of your walls’ compliance as he took nearly every inch from you. As he pulled out, your breath stuttered out in short pants, the hollowness tormenting as he’d just cracked you open. You whined into the table, sweat beading at your forehead, the palms of your hands sliding against the slickened leather. The head of his cock pulsed at the base of your core, stopping a moment before he rammed back into you, your knees sliding back with his force.

He bent at his hips, his chest molding to your back, the whispers of loose tendrils tickling your spine. A hand dipped down over your slit, two fingers running against your folds as he hummed behind you. “Where are you staying tonight, officer? Tell me.”

His voice was thick with breath, his words leaking onto your nape. A shiver bloomed goosebumps under his heat, the friction of his rough robes almost painful against your sensitized skin. No matter how he would try to convince you, there was nothing he could say or do that would change your mind. “Kylo, I can’t-,”

“Another wrong answer.” His other hand snaked over your throat, trapping any words that tried to leave. “You’re down for the count with no hope of winning. Give up, it’ll be a lot easier if you do.”

His hips began a rigorous tempo, slamming into you while his hand tied around your throat and his fingers slid into your slit, his frame completely devouring you, swallowing your body into nothingness below him. He used your throat for leverage, pulling back to meet his thrusts, grunts panting from his lips in beat with his hips. Every slam of his pelvis and swirl of his fingers catalyzed your release.

“You’re getting close,” he stuttered out between thrusts. “So fucking tight, coming undone – shit – breaking for me. Such a slut, and only for your master.”

Beneath his hand, you wanted to moan, to hiccup into the room how good it felt to have him rocking against you. Even though his effort was aimed towards your defeat, you basked in how full he made you, the dull sound of your skin slapping with robes, the squeaks of voice escaping in spite of his grip; you knew you couldn’t stay with him, but that didn’t keep you from wanting to.

“And you deny it, but you know it’s what you want – to meet me tonight, to have our lesson, to please me – don’t you?”

He lifted some pressure from your throat, a go-ahead for words. “Yes, I want that,” you panted. “I want to.”

“Yes,” he grunted, his thrusts becoming crazed, coming without a pattern. “Be a good girl, give into in.”

“I want to, Kylo,” you swallowed, sweat spilling from your brow. “But I can’t.”

“You can.” The hand maintaining your clit wound tighter circles, eliciting a searing need for release just beneath your skin.

“I, I – fuck – Kylo, I-,” you could only whine, your body pummeled with his rampant push towards your climax.

“Where are you staying tonight,” he hiccuped your name. “Say it. Scream it.”

Your walls were quaking, spiraling towards the abyss he’d opened inside of you. All of your senses were trembling, buzzing as you resisted his effort to send you flying over the edge. A pained whimper, filtered through tight teeth, left you, building into a more prevalent cry.

“Tell me!” He yelled, thrusting into you, hitting your cervix in time with his swipe over your clit.

“Fuck! With you, I- Kylo, with you!”

With his body wrapped around you, the simultaneous strike of your cervix and clit, and the pressure clouding your vision – you let go, falling into a riotous, convulsive, all enthralling pit of pleasure. The growl that had resided in your throat, the one that had evoked from your attempt at resistance, had evolved into an endless string of astonished praise; it was a song you’d never sung, yet as he lost himself behind you – his hands bracing on top of yours when he fell forward, crushing you underneath him – he sounded as you did, creating a chorus of cries, a melody only known to each other.

He breathed at your ear, panting rampantly, off-beat with yours as they came between his. The weight of his body consuming yours only aided in the afterglow, your breathing obvious as his chest tided on top of your own. Every now and then he would swallow, the hiccuped sound popping next to your ear as his chin bobbed against your back. The peripheral image of his hands covering yours an added prize to the already hazed satiety which had enveloped you. He laid on top of you as he softened inside of you, staying there for an immeasurable amount of time.

To your disappointment, you couldn’t stay there forever; he sat up, a wince leaving you as he slipped out. Behind you came the shuffle of clothing and the clamber of boots as he met the floor. You were still recuperating when he came into view, his hand – gloved, yet again – smoothing over your sweat-stuck strands. As you turned to your side, he flipped your skirt back down, covering you as his cum leaked out from your core and onto leather that lied beneath.

He pinched your chin up, prompting you to crawl up on your elbows, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Twenty-two hundred. You know how I feel about tardiness.” There was a regard of fondness as he looked over your sated body.

You could only respond with the nod of your head, peering up at him, admiring him for all that he was in this moment – a beautiful man who wanted you to stay with him. With one last swipe of his thumb over your bottom lip, he gathered his helmet, ducked into it, and left you sprawled about in your own company.

After a few minutes, watching the radar on your watch to ensure his distance, you allowed your guilt to swallow you whole; you had all but promised Kylo Ren that you would come to him tonight, and although you wanted to appease him, to be with him in such an intimate way as to lie next to him, you couldn’t risk your life for something as temporary as an afterglow or a rush. Tonight you would go to Mason, a welcome break from all life had thrown at you in the past twenty-four hours.

[hutchhitched]

Maybe This Summer, Prologue

After many months and several delays, I’m excited to finally share Maybe This Summer with you. Last year, I offered an auction for a 50,000+ word story for @fandomtrumpshate​, and @ldyglfr62​ won the bid. She gave me free reign to create a mild age gap!Everlark story with Gale as Katniss’ best friend. With a little inspiration from Dirty Dancing and the second season of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Maybe This Summer is the result. The story will post on Tuesday mornings at 11:00 am CDT.

Big thanks for @ldyglfr62​ for bidding and trusting me to create this story (and being patient and gracious as I worked through some personal issues) and @xerxia31​ for mad beta skills and turning the nine pictures I sent into this gorgeous graphic.

Summary: Katniss Everdeen needed a vacation. On a whim, she reserved three months at Panem Resorts in North Carolina. She expected to spend her time recovering from the recent death of her sister, exploring the nearby nature reserve, and reminiscing about happier times. What she didn’t foresee was bumping into Peeta Mellark, one of Panem’s most valued employees, during his early morning run. Neither did she think she’d grow to admire him when she’d hated him from first sight, but his killer smile and gorgeous blue eyes had a way of breaking down the walls she’d built around her heart. Maybe this summer she’ll finally get what she’s always deserved. AO3

_______________

Winding Road

A canopy of trees shaded the ribbon of asphalt as Katniss Everdeen sped along the winding country road. She hadn’t been there in ages, two decades passing since the last time her mother requested time off from work and bundled her daughters into the car and took them on vacation. She’d chosen the same place for nostalgic reasons and was determined to find something to smile about during her time at Panem this summer. She needed that.

 Things hadn’t gone too well for her over the past few years. Her mother and she had almost no relationship anymore—not since her younger sister Prim passed away—and it was hard for Katniss to care about much of anything anymore. She still had her best friend Gale Hawthorne and his wife Madge, but otherwise, she felt more alone than not. When her boss noticed her increased stress levels and a few minor mistakes in her data that could have been much worse, he ordered her to take some time off and center herself before coming back to work. She should be grateful he hadn’t fired her, and she was, but she also had no idea how to fill her time without spending it in the lab at West Virginia University.

 Katniss didn’t like to sit still, and the weeks had loomed before her when she sat alone in her empty house. On a whim one night, she flipped through an old photo album she’d taken from her sister’s place after her funeral. On the third page, she stopped, troubled by the happy smiles jumping off the page and making her heart hurt. After a sleepless night, she maxed out a credit card booking three months—from Memorial Day to Labor Day—at the resort. She needed something. Maybe, just maybe, this was it.

 “I wish you were with me, Little Duck.”

 Her voice echoed in the empty car, but if she tried really hard, she could almost hear her sister answer.

 I wish I was, too. We had so much fun the last time.

 “We did, didn’t we?” Katniss chuckled. “You remember that little girl we made friends with? Rue, I think her name was. You two were so alike. Both tiny and sneaky. You used to slink out into the night and meet up with her. I never could catch you, but I knew you were doing it. Mom never did figure it out—or believe me.”

 She saddened at the memory. “You were always her favorite.”

 Of course, I was. I’m the baby! Was the baby.

“You’ll always be the baby, Prim. No matter how old we get.”

 And you’ll always be my hero. The big sister who can do no wrong, who can slay dragons and bullies alike. The one who protected me all her life and made everything that much better when I was still with you.

 “I couldn’t protect you from that.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she heard Prim agree.

 No, you couldn’t. No one could.

 “I should have been able to do it.”

 You should stop blaming yourself.

“Maybe someday.”

 Maybe someday. Maybe this summer.

 Her smile faded as her sister’s voice trailed into silence, and Katniss shook herself and looked at the GPS. Prim was gone, and they hadn’t seen or talked to Rue since that one summer twenty years ago. She wasn’t thirteen anymore. She was thirty-three, a professional agro-botanist working in a grant-funded lab at a major research university. She didn’t have a sister anymore, and she certainly wasn’t going to encounter either one of the young girls dancing in her memories at the resort this summer.

 Still…she wanted something more than what she had. Why did the past pull at her so hard?

 “Just a little bit of time. That’s all you need,” she muttered to herself, unsure if she was trying to convince herself or merely fill the quiet. When her phone rang, she cursed as she was jerked from her internal dialogue and jerked the wheel before righting the vehicle and pressing down on the brake.

 “Hello?”

 “Hey, Catnip,” Gale rumbled from the other end. “How’s the drive?”

 “Terrible,” she snapped and narrowed her eyes when he chuckled.

 “I’m sure it isn’t that bad. You should be almost there by now unless you stopped every five minutes to take soil samples.”

 “Well, fuck. I should have stopped every five minutes to take soil samples. Why didn’t I think of that?”

 “I’m sure you’ll work that in some once you’re there. Ferns, leaves, bark, soil. You’re a super nerdy scientist through and through. You picked that place for a reason, Kat, and it’s not just because you and your sister had a good time there back when you were teenagers.”

 “You don’t know me,” she grumbled but had to admit he was right. She was hoping to get some work done while she was there, despite strict orders to leave the lab back at the university. A real scientist always observed, and if she happened to do that through a microscope that just happened to be in her backseat…well, then, that was just part of the charm of spending her summer at a resort surrounded by a nature preserve called The Woods.

 “I know you better than you know yourself,” he retorted. “That’s also why Madge and I booked a cabin next to yours for the week of the Fourth until mid-July. Thought you might be ready for some company by then, and Madge loves getting out of the city for time by the pool. I figure you two can have some girl time, and then I’ll steal you away for nature walks and the like.”

 She was so pleased she couldn’t quite stop the smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth. Unwilling to admit her glee, she joked, “Fine. You do know me. And Gale…”

 “Yeah?”

 “Thank you.”

 She was serious, and he knew it. He’d been there through everything—her father’s death when she was eleven, her mother’s snap with reality, Prim’s diagnosis and demise, her own depression as she mourned and floundered. Gale was a godsend friend who shouldered her burdens without making her feel like she owed him. The fact that he’d married her only other real friend solidified his presence in her life in a way that made her grateful that he cared about her and relieved he respected her independence. She hated owing anybody anything, and she especially didn’t like taking anything from strangers.

 “You’re welcome,” he answered gruffly. “Text me when you get there, and try to relax a little bit, okay? You really do deserve some time to yourself. You’ve never had time to grieve properly.”

 “I mourned Prim,” she reminded him, but that wasn’t all he meant.

 “Your father, your mom, Prim, all of it.”

 “Yes, all of it. That’s enough, Gale.”

 “I’ll talk to you soon, Catnip. Safe rest of the trip.”

 “Goodbye, Gale.”

 She hung up and checked the screen again. Two more miles, and then she’d take a left into the nature preserve. Just past that was the entrance to the resort’s lodge, and she was ready to be there. Ready to take a shower and get the road off her skin and hair. She wanted a nap and a good dinner before escaping into the book she hadn’t quite managed to finish before leaving on the trip.

 When she turned the corner, she flipped off the air conditioner and rolled down the front windows. A warm, humid breeze whipped through the car until she slowed to the requisite 35 miles per hour speed limit. The hybrid motor was practically silent, and she could hear birds chirping to each other as she passed under the natural awning of oak, ash, and maple trees. It was absolutely beautiful, and her heart rate slowed a little as she meandered along the lane that led to her summer escape.

 Excitement coursed through her, and she tamped down the tingling sensation that something life-defining awaited her in the next three months.

 “I miss you, Prim. If only you were here to share this with me,” she whispered and listened to the wind rustle through the trees.

Maybe I am, came the silent reply.

[avengerscompound]

That Kid You Knew - Chapter 8

That Kid You Knew: An Iron Man Fanfic

Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕

Warning:  Fluff, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count:  3412

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Summary:  You had grown up knowing Tony Stark but as you’d gotten older you’d lost track of him.  When you see him at a party you have a drug-fueled one-night-stand with him.

10 years later he finds you again and has to come to terms with the fact he’s been a father all the time.

Chapter 8

Tony straightened his tie as he looked in the mirror.  His heart was racing even more than usual.  There had been several occasions already today that he had been fairly certain he was going to go into full-blown cardiac arrest.

Today was the day.  After months and months of planning, people losing their absolute fucking minds on the internet and not in the good way, booking venues and musicians and celebrants, ordering cakes, meeting with designers and planners, the paparazzi literally stalking the two of you at every turn, a bachelor party in Vegas that lasted a week, three days if which were still unaccounted for, he was marrying you.

The pale gray Armani suit was tailored to fit him exactly.   It was two pieces and hugged his body without pulling tight anywhere.  You’d left the color and style up to him, saying his designers new more than you did.  There was one notable exception though.  The magenta tie he wore that matched the orchid he wore in his lapel.  Those were all you.

Your relationship hadn't been the standard; meet the woman, start dating, fall in love, get married, have kids thing that society had decided was the order you do things in.  Tony didn't care.  He didn't really consider himself a standard guy.  Besides he has never expected to do any of those things anyway.  If the universe had decided to send him the kid before the falling in love and finish up with the wedding, he could roll with that. It felt good to have it.

It had taken a lot of juggling and healing, but Tony was now comfortably a dad.  Not only that, he was in love.  That part he hadn’t expected at all.  But here he was, about to stand under an arch of twinkling lights and flowers while he waited to see you walk down the aisle in your wedding dress.  He was excited and terrified all at once.

“Dad, can you help me with this?”

Owen’s voice snapped him out of his daydream and he turned to look at his son.  Owen was thirteen now.  He’d had to teach him how to shave.  Owen had laughed the whole time and asked him if he was sure he didn’t need a ruler if he wanted the same effect as Tony.  He was prone to random bouts of sullenness and had an acid tongue, but all in all, he was a good kid.  Tony was really proud of him.  He still had moments that he’d wished he’d been there from the start, but there was still plenty of life experiences they would get to share.

Owen was fumbling with his tie.  Tony stepped over to him and helped him fix the double Windsor knot that Owen was struggling with.  He was wearing a two-piece in white but the tie was the same magenta as Tony’s.  He was a skinny kid, but tall.  He could already look Tony directly in the eye.  “You look good, bud.  How do I look?”

Owen smiled.  “Yeah, dad.  Mom’s going to love it.”

There was a knock at the door and Rhodey entered.  “You two ready?  The way you’re going she’s going to be out there before we are.”

Tony ran his hands along the shoulders of Owen’s jacket.  “Yeah, I think so.  Let’s do this.”

You stood, taking a few deep breaths as your bridesmaids and your stylist fussed around you. Your dress was a simple a-line with capped sleeves, in white lace and tulle.  The skirt almost floated around you, and you knew it didn’t matter how much they tugged or pulled at it, it was going to fall exactly as you wanted it to.

Your stylist fixed the flowers into your hair.  You weren’t sure if you were ever going to get used to having a stylist even though you had used one for every red carpet and other official event Tony had dragged you along too.

She adjusts your breasts again, adding a little more tape.  “You are completely spilling out of this dress.”  She said.

You laughed.  “Yeah.  This low cut might have been a mistake in hindsight.”  You agreed.

She laughed too and stood back, looking you over.  “I’ll give your bridesmaids some tape just in case, but I’ll be around too.”

You smiled and thanked her before looking over at your dad.  “How do I look?”

He returned the smile with such love it made your heart swell.  “You look beautiful, darling.  How do you feel?”

“A little queasy.”  You said.

“That’s to be expected.”  Your mother said.  “You ready?”

You took your bouquet of white lilies and magenta orchids, nodded and your father offered you his elbow.  He led you outside and down the boardwalk towards the beach.  You were on a private island in the Bahamas that Tony had booked out completely.  There was no risk of paparazzi, so you strolled, arm-in-arm with your dad, just worrying about the beating of your heart.

“I’m so proud of you, you know?”  Your dad said, patting your hand.  “It would have been so easy for you to try and trap that boy into this.  But instead, you decided to take the hard road because you thought it would protect Owen.  I know because you’re now getting married that you think you made the wrong choice, but you did it for the right reasons.  And you’ve done an amazing job raising him alone.”

Your tears threaten to break and you run your fingertips under your eyelashes to brush them away.  “Thank you, dad.”  You whispered.

He gave your hand a squeeze and kissed your cheek.  The chairs set up on the sand come into view and all eyes turn to you.  The guests are full of family and friends and some of Tony’s work acquaintances.  A quartet of guitars start playing ‘Fluff’ by Black Sabbath and you started walking down the petal-strewn aisle formed between the rows of chairs on the sand.

Tony’s face lit up when he saw you, such a look of pure love etched on his features makes your heart swell.  Beside him stood Owen who had the biggest smile on his face.  Rhodey flanked Owen’s other side, smiling as you approached.  By the time you made it to the wedding arch Tony’s eyes are glistening and you couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him right away.

The celebrant cleared his throat and began.

“Welcome, family, friends and loved ones.  We gather to this beautiful spot today to celebrate the wedding of these two people.  You have all traveled a long way to share this formal commitment they make to one another after a long history between them, and to offer your love and support of the union.  They wanted to share this day with those of you who are nearest and dearest to them.  

“Marriage is perhaps the greatest and most challenging adventure of human relationships. No ceremony can create your marriage; only you can do that through love and patience; through dedication and perseverance; through talking and listening, helping and supporting and believing in each other; through tenderness and laughter; through learning to forgive, learning to appreciate your differences, and by learning to make the important things matter, and to let go of the rest. What this ceremony can do is to witness and affirm the choice you make to stand together as lifemates and partners.”

Owen took center stage to do a reading next and he stood between the two of you nervously.  Tony put his hand on Owen’s shoulder to reassure him, while you took his free hand.

“‘What is REAL?’ asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender before Nana came to tidy the room. ‘Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?’

‘Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When someone loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’

‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit.

‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. ‘When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.’

‘Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,’ he asked, ‘or bit by bit?’

‘ It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.’

‘I suppose you are real?’ said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse only smiled.

‘Someone made me Real,’ he said. ‘That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.’”  Owen read.

Owen moved back to his spot and the celebrant spoke again.

“We’ve come to the point of the ceremony where you’re going to say your vows to one another.  But first, to do that, I ask you to remember that love - that is rooted in trust and acceptance - will be the foundation of an abiding and deepening relationship.  No other ties are more tender.   You do not take the vows today out of any religious or civic law, but out of a desire to love and be loved by another person fully, without limitation, then your life will have joy and the home you establish will be a place in which you will both find the direction of your growth, your freedom, and your responsibility.”

Tony took a deep breath and squeezed your hands.  “I take you to be my wife, my constant friend and partner, and my love.

“I vow to honor and you and respect you for all that you are and will become, taking pride in who we are, both separately and together.

“I promise that I am going to challenge you every day.  But that, I will also accept challenges from you.

“Our home will be a sanctuary and a respite for us and the people we love most.

“Above all, I give you my love freely and unconditionally.  I pledge this to you, from the bottom of my heart, for all the days of our lives.”  He said, his eyes glistening.

You smiled and swallowed lifting his hands to your mouth and kissing the back of them.  “I take you to be my husband, my constant friend, and partner and my love.

“I will work to create a bond of honesty, respect and trust; one that withstands the tides of time and change, and grows along with us.

“I will join you and our community in an ongoing struggle to create a world we all want to live in, where love and friendship will be recognized and celebrated in their many forms.

“Above all, I will give you my love freely and unconditionally.  I pledge this to you, from the bottom of my heart, for all the days of our lives.”  You said.

“May I have the rings please?”  The celebrant asked.

Owen fumbled to get them out of his pocket and his hand shook a little as he handed them over to each of you.

“Repeat after me:  I give you this ring, as a daily reminder of my love for you.”

You and Tony both repeated the words as you slid the rings into place.

“By the power of your love and commitment, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!  You may kiss each other!”

Tony wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close, dipping you kissed deeply and everyone applauded.

After you did the legal paperwork and took photos you joined the rest of the guests at tables set up under lights a little further down the beach.  Everything felt like a whirlwind.  Dinner was served.  The starters were set up on a grazing table.  There were dips, crackers, and artisan bread, several kinds of cheese, olives, chargrilled vegetables, and sliced deli meats.  As well as oysters, shrimp, arancini, pork belly, rice paper rolls, and other small finger foods to get everyone started.  That was followed by a seated entree of either rack of lamb, herb potato gnocchi, ragu of chorizo, chickpeas, onion and capsicum and chimichurri, fillet of salmon, saffron potato, quinoa, barley, and white crab and avocado mousse, or pistachio-crusted tofu with a prickly pear sauce.   All these dishes that you had spent so long carefully choosing to make sure everyone had something delicious they could eat you could barely even manage to taste because everyone wanted to talk to you, or see your ring or take your photo.  Not to mention that queasy feeling never quite let up.

After dinner speeches were made, first your dad telling stories of you and Tony as kids and repeating how proud he is of you.  Then your bridesmaid talking about the fate that led the two of you to be together now.

Then Owen got up.  “He-hello.”  He said, the nerves showing in the shake of his voice.  “My name is Owen.  I grew up with just my mom.  She’s a really good mom, but I did always have a hope that one day I’d get to meet my dad.  One day, by complete accident, I did.  I didn’t expect he’d be Iron Man though.  He started out by being a really good dad.  Then he was a really good boyfriend to my mom.  She is much happier and more chill with him around.  So I’m sure he’ll be a really good husband too.  I love you both so much.  So cheers to my mom and dad.”

Everyone applauded and glasses were raised.  Owen returned to his seat and you hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head while Tony wrapped his arms around the both of you.

Rhodey got up to speak next and he smirked at Tony.  “Well, I bet none of you expected this to happen right?”  He said, making everyone laugh.  “I know I didn’t.  I met Tony back in college.  He was only 15 then, and already completely out of control.  I remember thinking there was no way this kid was making it to thirty.  The longer I knew him the more sure I was that would be the case.  But he did.  I also assumed he’d just continue being a playboy until he died.  My very own Hugh Hefner.  He’s been through a lot of changes though.  He’s nearly died more times than I’d like to admit.  He started to settle.  To figure out who he is and what he wants with his life.

“I never really believed in fate, but there seemed to be something going on with the way these two people had their lives come together.  If they hadn’t known each other as kids, they might not have had the little tryst that brought Owen here into the world.  But the tryst had to happen while Tony was still his unsettled self.  Owen had to be kept a secret though or they definitely wouldn’t have had a great relationship.  They met back up at the time Tony had begun to settle which was the perfect time.  He was able to step up to be the dad he needed to be.  He was able to open his heart up to be the partner he needed to be.

“And now, here we are.  At Tony Stark’s wedding.  Not drunk at Vegas but planned ahead to this woman who he loves and who kept coming into his life at the perfect times.  They were destined to be.”  Rhodey turned and looked directly at you.  “He is better with you.  Happier.  More at peace.  All the things you might have put down as mistakes or chance, they were meant to happen.  I’m glad he has you.”  He turned back to the crowd.  “So raise a glass to the happy couple.”

There was a cheer of the ‘happy couple and everyone sipped their drinks.  Tony got up and hugged Rhodey before taking the microphone for himself.

“First of all, I’d like to thank you all for traveling this far to be with us.  I mean, I know I paid, so free private island holiday, but still, it really means the world to both of us.”  He said, making your guests laugh.  “I grew up not really knowing what it felt like to be part of a loving family.  So instead I modeled myself after my father.  I drank too hard and I worked too hard.  But I told myself that I wouldn’t inflict myself on anyone else for too long because that wouldn’t be fair to anyone.

“It’s funny how life doesn’t really give a shit about your plans.  Turns out while I was trying to stop myself from ever forming any bonds with anyone I was making a pretty serious bond with someone.  So instead of doing things in the typical everyday order where you meet, fall in love, get married, have a kid.  Or doing things the way I envisioned, just a new conquest every day.  I did them in the way that worked for me.  I had the kid.  I fell in love.  And now, I am married to the women I have a son with.  I finally have the family I didn’t think existed for me.  It’s funny how you can not know how badly you needed something until you finally have it.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of love.  “People always ask me if I was mad when I found out she’d hidden Owen from me.  The answer is; of course, I was.  Who wouldn’t be?  The next question I usually get is how could I forgive that?  That question is easily answered if you’ve ever met her.  She is the most kind, brave, intelligent, amazing person I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of kind, brave, intelligent and amazing people.  A lot of you are here today.  Falling in love with her was inevitable.  It was like breathing.  I am excited to call myself her husband.  I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with her.  So I’d like you all to raise your glasses for the crazy way life works and to my wife.”

He sat down as everyone toasted and you leaned in and kissed him deeply.  Though your moment didn’t last long.  You were called onto the floor for your first dance.  The band started to play ‘Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica and you and Tony start to move around the dance floor in the routine you’d been practicing for months now.

“You look beautiful, you know?”  Tony said, gazing into your eyes.

“Thank you,”  You said leaning in and brushing your lips over his just briefly.  “Would you say I’m glowing?”

Tony opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again.  You could actually see the wheels turning behind his eyes.  “Are you…?”

You smirked at him and he spun you.  “Pregnant?”  You finished as you span back into his arms.  “That’s right.”

“Honey…”  He said, a smile spreading over his face.  “Oh my god.”  He pulled you into a hard kiss, the music completely forgotten.  You both just stand there kissing.  His hand on your cheek, yours clinging to his back.  The beach might as well be empty except for the two of you.  His lips slowly caress yours until they begin to go numb.  When he pulls back his eyes are glistening with tears.

You reach up and brush one escapee from his cheek.  “You’re such a softie, Stark.”

“Don’t make fun of me.  I’m really happy.”  He said as you start to dance again.

You nuzzled into his neck.  “You think we’ll ever get pregnant because we planned to?”

Tony started laughing.  “Who knows.  Like I said, life doesn’t care about plans. But whatever happens, I’m loving every minute of it.”

~ END ~

[writers-blogck]

Opposites ( The Mandalorian x Reader ) 01

Warning(s): This is going to be a series. I am obsessed with the show and need to let my love for both Baby Yoda and Dyn out. So here we are. This will try to be gender-neutral. There is mentions to a skirt in this chapter but with the race you are, there are no gender norms. Men wear skirts as well.  For now, your race is called Gypsies because I can’t think of a good name yet. The language being used for your race’s language is Romanian. The race name will change when I can come up with one.  Now, buckle up for some slow-burn romance! 

Title: Opposites  Pairing: Dyn Jarren x Reader Fandom: The Mandalorian  Word Count: 2925

Chapter One: The Beginning 

Flames licked the air as the music soared through the chill breeze. It would be considered a cold night if not for the fire that everyone crowded around. It was a strange sight for anyone who wasn’t a local. It looked as though someone had taken one of the walls out to open up a building with the roof only covering half. This allowed the smoke to fade off into the sky as it curled higher and higher. The floor was nothing more than the natural sand of the land. This cantina was one of interesting architecture.

This was no place to take a baby but desperate times call for desperate measures. They should be fine, rarely were people dumb enough to mess with a Mandalorian. He knew the child needed to eat and even if he would have pushed himself through it, he needed to eat as well. When he traveled without the child, he used to push his body to the extreme limits. Barely getting any sleep, eating rarely, trying to just do job after job. Now with a fragile thing he had to take care of, he couldn’t expect to continue that path. Which is how he ended up in such a strange cantina. Even with his travels, he had never seen anything quite like this.

The child was sitting on a booster with his tiny hands gripping his bowl of bone broth. On such a night, a steaming bowl of soup was just the thing to warm the bones. Mando himself didn’t get anything but bread rations that he planned to eat back on the ship. He couldn’t take his helmet off, he knew he could wait. The main concern was for the child to eat enough so they could be on their way again. It was too dangerous to stay in one place for too long.

                                                       --

The movements were second nature to you at that point, twirling around the fire with your tambourine high in the air. You savored the heat the flames gave off as it warmed your bare skin. You learned how to dance and play as soon as you learned to walk. It was the way of your people. Dancing was one of the biggest parts of your culture. During the day, your people would hide in the shadows and steal to get by but it was the night when you really came alive. This cantina was just one of the many hotspots, hidden out on the edge of the sand dunes. The locals whispered of the dancing gypsies and hope one day they would be able to see them dance. No one knew where the group would be, the information was kept a secret.

You were one of the most skilled dancers of your people and both the natives as well as travelers could see that. Many nights you could feel the eyes of all sorts of people following the sway of your hips and flick on your wrist. After the show, some would try to give you money while the rare patron gave some type of gift. Those were the people who always seemed to be able to find the show’s location. There were the specific men, and a few women, who would come after the show and offer money in exchange for other services. They were your least favorite clientele. But the male gypsies would scare them away.

This night was the same as your people’s bodies curled together like the flame itself, skilled movements that were too delicate to get near. Some were dancing as couples while others were dancing alone. The more innocent eyes stayed on the couples while those with other purposes trained on those alone. Some would even come up and join the dance as the excitement rubbed off on them. Participation was very much encouraged.

Your own eyes scanned the crowd quickly in curiosity as you danced and fell upon a sight you had never seen before. A real Mandolorian. Not just some scavenger with stolen armor. They were so rare, you doubted anyone in your community had seen one.  You didn’t even know much about the people other than the danger they could bring with them.

                                                       --

The sound of excited yelling and whistles brought the man out of his thoughts, his mind immediately ready for a threat. He was raised on the trigger of a gun and meant he was always on guard even when lost in thought. Those instincts had only gotten stronger with the child now. It was the first time he had something to protect. He no longer only had himself to think about. Yet his dark eyes quickly noted there was no new threat, instead, a tidal wave of color pouring around the fire.

Bright purples, pinks, greens, and blue were illuminated in an ethereal glow from the fire as a group of seven to ten similarly dressed people arrived. It was easy to tell who they were, they were one of the local races. Even without the bright colors, the large pointed ears, not that unlike the child’s, would give them away. Mando hadn’t been to this planet before and didn’t know much about the natives, but he learned what they looked like. All the shops were filled with the same rainbow of colors, scarfs covering faces to reveal only eyes that peered around like a cat. He didn’t trust the gypsy people. He knew what those eyes meant.

Trouble.

Their bodies curled together like the flames itself as they began to dance to the music. Mando had never been much for dancing himself. Training had taken up most of his time and the free time he did have, he wasn’t going to spend it learning how to dance. This dancing wasn’t like the slow dancing he had seen either. The Mandolorian didn’t dance like this. This dancing was filled with chaos and energy, huge grins on each of their sunkissed faces. Where the Mandolorians were strict and straight-laced, these natives were carefree. Too hedonistic in Mando’s mind.  Yet these aversive thoughts seemed to disappear from his mind the moment he saw the person with the blue and green crystal pin in their hair.

He hardly noticed they were even singing due to the blood that seemed to rush to his ears. The pounding was like the kind he would get when he was in an intense battle. There was no danger and yet his mind seemed unaware. What was going on? His body was making no sense to him.

It must have been the way the light hit them in that exact moment. Or perhaps it was the lack of sleep in him. Something had to be wrong with him for a person to leave him breathless. He had seen beauty in his time but this was different. They weren’t the traditional kind of beautiful but there was something transcendental with them. Their pointed ears held gold chains and earrings in them and sparkled when the light hit them in a certain way. Bare feet expertly moved gracefully while making no sound. Delicate but confident. The feet of a thief, not a dancer. Perhaps they really were a thief. They had stolen his attention.

Behind his dark visor, his sharp eyes couldn’t move away from the absolute vision in front of him. Thankfully, no one could tell what he was really looking at. He could just be looking at the fire or just staring off into space. That was all. Everyone would just see the threatening Mandalorian and look away. The Child needed to hurry up and finish eating so they could leave. He wanted to go as fast as possible, his stomach churning at the unknown feeling. He had never felt this interest to know more about a person before.

There was no way this could be true but upon a final spin, the gypsy seemed to be looking right into his soul. His heart skipped a beat, feeling as though he had been caught. They couldn’t know he was watching and yet with the small smile they presented him, he wasn’t so sure. Did they have some strange ability? Their eyes stilled for only a moment yet it felt as though it had been minutes. They easily went back to finishing the song they were singing.  Mando didn’t recover as quickly.

The Child’s large eyes seemed to have found them as well and could sense a shift in the man sitting next to him. He turned to look up at his caretaker, back at the dancing figure, and then settled on Mando again. He turned to the green child and frowned, not even needing to hear anything to know what that look meant.

“Don’t say anything.” He huffed, refusing to admit they had affected him in such a way.

                                                       --

The night went as most do. As time passed, members of your group got drunk and the performance fizzled out. Some found partners to keep them warm for the night but that wasn’t for you. Your mind was focused on something else. The Mandalorian hadn’t left like you had expected. With each passing second, you felt yourself getting pulled closer. Their kind seemed almost like a myth. What type of stories did they know? Since coming to this village when you were thirteen, it was the only place you had called home. There was so much in the universe you hadn’t seen yet. You had never even left this planet.

When the Mandalorian seemed to be paying attention to the creature next to it, you pulled as much confidence from your core as you could before walking over. The gypsies put confidence and affection as some of the most important things in your culture. With the outfits you all wore, confidence was needed. In the day, you wore scarves and clothing that covered your entire body but when the night came, so did the fabric. Women would wear crop tops, some men didn’t even wear shirts. This was the way of your people. Be proud of who you are and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It was obvious to see as gender norms seemed nonexistent.  

“So, not many Mandalorians come here. Are you lost?” You asked as you slipped into the chair across the table from the two beings. Mando slowly looked over, taking a moment to take in what was happening before speaking.

“No, just a stop.”

You nodded, leaning your elbow on the table and resting your chin in the palm of your hand. The armor shined with the firelight and you wondered what it was made of. It was rare anyone wore armor in these parts. Not because it wasn’t needed but the heat of the sun would cook whatever was inside it during the day. Most people tended to be nocturnal here as it got quite a bit cooler when the moon came out.

Silence blanketed the table as you inspected the person, which you now know due to his voice, and tried to match what was in front of you to the few pictures you had seen.  He was much larger than what you expected and more...shiny. The old scrolls that you had found on your scavenging made them seem much flatter in color. You preferred it this way better.

“So, what are the Mandalorian?” Your question caught him off guard. It had been a long time since he had to explain it to someone before. No one ever asked so bluntly before either.

“If you know not many come here, how come you don’t know about us?”

“Well, I’ve seen art and some had Mandalorians in it. No one here ever knew enough to answer my questions. So, I thought who better to ask than from the source.”

Mando thought over the question, rolling it around in his head. How was he supposed to answer that? There was so much that went into their way, it would be impossible to explain it fully to someone who didn’t even know the basics. He stared in your direction, unsure of what to say.

“We are a skilled group of fighters. Some say we are the best warriors in the galaxy. It is a way of life. Our life.”

Even with the less than detailed explanation, you were satisfied enough for now. Your Păzitor (Guardian)  had warned you that your curiosity would get you killed one day. He cared for you but feared when you left the village to explore the sand dunes. There were dangerous creatures and even worse, dangerous people out there. You had been slipping out for as long as you lived here, there was no way to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. There was so much out there but no one wanted to explore. As you were getting older, the itch to leave was only getting stronger.  

A tugging at your skirt caused you to glance down, meeting the big brown eyes of the kid that had been sitting across the table from you. When had he had the time to get down without either of you noticing. With a small smile, you leaned down and placed the child on your lap. This seemed to please it as it relaxed, leaning back against your chest.

“I’ve never seen anything like this little guy here before. Got to say, I don’t think you look like this under that helmet of yours. So, why is he with you? Is he an orphan?” Your arms lazily wrapped around his smaller form as he cuddled up against you. It must have been past his bedtime, whatever time that was. Every child went to bed early, didn’t they? The gypsy children were the only ones you had seen out so late.

“Something like that.”

“Are you on a job now and that’s why you are just stopping here? Or maybe you’re just a bum in a ship traveling the stars with a little green bean,” You teased, a glint in your eyes as if challenging the man. Before he was able to answer, blaster fire echoed around the strange cantina.

Then the screaming started and chaos began. As soon as the blaster went off, the Mandalorian jumped up and immediately began searching for the threat. Your arms pulled the child closer to you, gathering the multi-colored shaw you used in your show to wrap it around them. The first instinct you had was to hide it. Maybe it would be safer that way and would be left out of the fight.

Something grabbed your wrist and pulled to have you topple into their chest. This caused a small yelp to slip from your lips, bringing Mando’s attention to you immediately. He didn’t see the Child but that didn’t mean you weren’t in danger at that moment. No matter how much people believed him to be bad, he kept doing actions that contradicted their beliefs.

Even without seeing it, you could smell the blaster fire on them. Shit, where was it? Both of his hands were occupied with one grasping your wrist and the other at your hip. There would be bruises there in the morning. As soon as you deduced he wasn’t holding the blaster, you reacted. It was no more than six seconds that passed and just as Mando was about to rush over, you stole his attention again.

A loud grunt and the attacker being pushed back caused Mando to stop in his tracks. He had no clue what had just happened moments ago, you didn’t have an electrostaff in your hands. Yet, here you are, moving to incapacitate the man who decided to mess with you. Even with the force behind your movements, you moved as if this was no more than another dance. Your movements were all calculated and one step ahead of the enemies, your feet hitting the ground with the grace of a ballerina.

Another enemy came in your vicinity and it was then that the Mandalorian noticed there were no sparks at the end of the staff. This was an electrostaff but must have been broken into nothing more of a staff. Yet, where had you gotten it? There was no room on your outfit to even entertain the thought it might have been on your person. It looked as if you had summoned it out of thin air.

With a calculated hit to the temple of the first man, he was down for the count. This left you to turn and fight the other who had his blaster drawn. You reminded yourself to keep calm as he moved to fire. Precision was key and you could hear yourself counting the beats in your head to time it correctly. As his finger squeezed, the staff came down hard on his wrist which caused the shot to only char the sand into small pieces of glass.

Mando hadn’t realized he had been staring until he felt arms wrap around his form to attempt to slice his throat. He was brought back to reality as he easily tossed the man over his body to land with a hard thud on the ground. Before they had a chance to get up, a single blast from the Mandalorian made sure he stayed down. He pushed the thoughts of you aside, knowing that he needed to focus on protecting these people.

Yet, no one had piqued his interest as much as you had and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

Your Electrostaff: https://s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/commercehq-userfiles-master/commercehq-store-fb48b69a3b345592c79d2b5daf360f96_da39a3ee5e6b4b0d3255bfef95601890afd80709/b38aabdceec14ea5819e839e5d810ea6_ezgif.com-crop.gif

How you Fight: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e5/99/11/e59911d8a0614152022b4fdcff7b1533.gif

[randomslasher]

Okay, so,*Warning Im telling my apparent fears of adulting(lol) in this ask, so like if you don't wanna see it rn, don't feel forced to, it was just if you had any advice* I was twelve the first time I went into Tumblr (or maybe thirteen Im not sure) and now I'm eighteen and it feels weeeird, also I really don't wanna grow up anymore, like, I'm not mentally ready, like frack go back, I don't know what job I want, or my sexuality, or like, basically anything, "what's your favourite ice-cream"idk

Oof well okay, first of all, let me tell you that “growing up” is a myth. At least the way that people talk about it.

Like, you’ll get older, yeah, but you won’t really *feel* older? LIke...you’ll look back and you won’t feel that different than you did five, ten, or twenty years ago. You’ll just be like, “Yeah that was me, and this is me, what’s the difference?” 

But then you’ll look at people five, ten, or twenty years younger than you and think, “Huh, weird, they’re kids. I don’t remember being a kid when I was their age. Was I a kid when I was their age? I really don’t think I was. It must be that the kids are just younger these days.” 

You’ll still be able to have your interests. Don’t let tumblr or anyone else trick you into thinking otherwise. You don’t ‘outgrow’ being you unless you just want to. You’re not going to start just being interested in jobs and mortgages and taxes, you’ll just...deal with those things because they’ll be part of the background radiation of your life, the same way homework and parents and peer drama and college stress might be the background radiation of your life now. 

It IS a little weird, and I won’t lie and tell you that the next ten years or so won’t have some upheaval--they will. But it’s not all bad stuff. Some of it is scary, sure, but wait until the first time you get to come home to a place where your parents aren’t. Even if you like your parents, there is nothing so freeing as knowing you can do whatever you want, be up as late as you want, hang out wherever you want in your home, and your parents won’t be there. It’s amazingly freeing. Wait until the first time you cook yourself a nice meal in your own apartment. Or hell wait until the first time you decide “fuck it” and have ice cream or potato chips for breakfast. Wait until you get to start making your mistakes on your own, without anyone to judge or blame but you. Wait until the first time you realize you’re excited to go to ikea or wal mart and get things like shelves for your bathroom. Wait until you realize you have your own bathroom. There’s some really cool stuff about getting older and getting to be on your own.  

As for knowing who you are, of course you don’t! Tbh most people are still trying to figure themselves out. That’s kind of part of being alive. It doesn’t really stop? There’s no point in time where you’re like “Yes, this is 100% me and I will never be any different, I am done growing and learning and changing, that’s all, this is it, it’s over.” You’ll never stop growing, learning, and changing. So like...don’t stress too much about it. Figure out what feels best right now but leave yourself open to learning new things. To use your ice cream flavor analogy, maybe right now your favorite is chocolate, but that might be because you’ve never tried moose tracks or rocky road or butter pecan. Be open to the possibility that there are even better experiences out there, even more fitting identities, even more accurate words that describe the way you feel about and relate to other people, just like you might one day find a new favorite ice cream. That doesn’t mean you were ever wrong for claiming chocolate was your favorite, it just meant you had a limited experience of the world, and you didn’t know how many other flavors there were out there. And who knows? Maybe you’ll go on a wild ice-cream tasting tour, then decide chocolate was right for you after all. That’s still okay. 

Basically just know that there are people around to help you. Whether you need help figuring out how to buy a car, or help with your taxes, or whatever--there are people who can help. Friends, family, people you meet online, coworkers, whatever. Don’t cut yourself off from those resources, because they are very, very useful. Even you coming to me for this perspective is one of those ways there are people to help. We’re all on our own journey, but there’s a lot of overlap, and a lot of shortcuts we can point out to one another on the way. Don’t be afraid to ask others to show you how to find them.

You got this, friend. It’s a scary time, sure, but it’s exciting, too. Embrace the entirety of it, good and bad, and just know you’ve got a lot experiences left to have!

[faean]

Adamance of a Dragon

Collaborator: @i-am-here-with-fanfic.

Rating: T+; Mild Language and Some Conflict

Word Length: 2,396

Chapter 8 (1/2)- Show Me Your Will; Prepare Thyself 

         ___

         Soon, my little dragonling…

         I awoke with a start, tossing several pillows as a golden white spear appeared in my left, readied at the empty space before my bed. Realizing I was alone, I heaved a heavy sigh before calming myself, folding my wings behind me as my tail swished about my waist. Slipping out of bed, I began my morning routine.

         Blonde roasted Kona coffee being brewed as I changed from my pajamas into a plain black long sleeve and blue jeans, my moccasins on and jacket draped over my shoulders. Aaron’s favorite breakfast on the stove as I drank straight from the coffee pot and called him downstairs.

         He was… Understandably disheveled. He did not bother to fix his hair, and his uniform was sloppily buttoned. None of my attempts at lightening his mood succeeded, and he remained, for the lack of a more appropriate word, catatonic.

         Sluggishly picking at his food, he merely mumbled ‘time to go’ before trudging to his bag and out the door.

         While I had my suspicions, and was not entirely surprised to learn that All Might is his father, I could not have predicted he would be so…

         Broken.

         Aaron is a strong and caring person, but he refuses to rely on others and rarely opens up about how he is truly feeling. It is why he pushes himself during his practices, and why Aria asks me to keep an eye on him. He has hardly, if ever, been careful about his personal health, although, I must admit I am not much better.

         But merely holding back is not as self-destructive as holding it in.

         ---

         School was not much better. We had to make our way through a massive crowd of reporters and journalists; fortunately, a little magic goes a long way when tampering with electronics. That was not the end to them, of course. During lunch, as I sat with Shouji and Tokoyami, there was an uproar.

         People began scrambling to escape the cafeteria as an emergency bell and warning rang. Rather than be jostled and shoved every which way, I took to the ceiling and spotted Aaron clinging to the wall.

         I glided towards him, and he pointed at the strikingly familiar mob of reporters swarming Aizawa and Present Mic. While obvious to us that they were the cause of the chaos, it took Iida spinning through the air and slamming into the wall above the entrance as he shouted to regain order and calm everyone.

         One good thing came of it, though, as Aaron seemed much more receptive. I do not think he will ever be the same after yesternight, but I do hope he decides his own fate. He has so much potential, and I know he can be so much more than just a figure skater (which is saying a lot, given his numerous accolades and offers).

         The path he chooses is up to him, and I will support him for as long as I can but, for now, I will simply remain at his side until he needs me.

         And until that time comes, I will-

         Prepare thyself, my little dragonling…

         A shiver ran down my spine as I trailed behind Aaron out of the cafeteria. We were making our way back to class before lunch ended, and there was nary another student in the halls, much less a female one with an ethereal voice that echoed in my fucking head.

         It probably was not best to unseal my Anima form. Unlike the splitting migraines caused by my Prudentia form, this one caused something a little more…strenuous, I suppose. It dulls my senses and makes me more susceptible to mind-altering effects, such as hypnosis and invasive telepathy. Fortunately, segmenting my magic like this reduces the damage done to my body.

         Of course, using my Quirk correctly and freely is the best option, but I…

         Let us just say that a time will come when I shall fight at my best and beyond, but until that day, I would prefer not to draw attention to myself. There is a reason my hero suit is an all-encompassing cloak.

         “Faian, can you drop my stuff off at mom’s later tonight? I forgot to bring it with me…” Aaron spoke, bringing me out of my thoughts.

         While he still had a wisp of exhaustion in his voice, he looked better. Answering with a simple nod, I gave him a small kiss on the forehead before bidding ‘farewell’ as we entered our respective classrooms.

         I hope you’re ready.

         As much as I wanted to ignore her voice, she is powerful. If she claims something is going to happen, I must keep attentive. Of course, she cannot be trusted, so it would be wise not to take it to heart.

         Paradoxical, no?

         Looking at the clock in the empty classroom, it read ’12:38’, still twelve minutes before the next period, which is hero training. I was hoping to get some rest, shifting out of my school uniform and pulling a container of saltwater from my bag when a few of my classmates returned. Downing it quickly, as my body requires it to stay physically nourished (much like how a regular person would need to drink plain water, but it also helps with my limited regeneration), I placed the bottle back in my bag as Yaoyorozu and Todoroki took their seats. Shouji and Tokoyami went to the back of the classroom near me and were joined by Asui.

         Tokoyami was the first to speak, asking “So, who did you vote for, Nadal? You didn’t receive any which means you didn’t vote for yourself.”

         “Were you the one vote Iida got? He did say he voted for someone else.” Asui chimed in.

         Nodding, I answered “Indeed. I have no desire to lead, and his suggestion of a democratic vote simply demanded my own. Truthfully, not voting for himself only cemented my support. A good leader realizes their people take precedence, not themselves.”

         “Yes, but, by that logic, you would also make a good leader.” Yaoyorozu claimed.

         Todoroki was quick to add “You appeared calm and rational in the recording All Might showed us yesterday, too. Not to mention you have more experience in hero work. Why else would our teachers trust you as their aid, Faian?”

         While there was some surprise that Todoroki used my first name, I did clarify that I do not use his, and that if any of the four of them wished, they may use it as well. After all, I do enjoy their company, even if it has only been a few days. Although, I did have to help on pronunciation (Fae-in, it means ‘being of/belonging to magic’).

         ---

         “If we’re pointing out the obvious then there’s something I wanna say… about you, actually.” Tsuyu said, her attention on Midoriya.

         I was seated beside Todoroki, who I believe is currently napping. I would do the same, but these classmates of mine sure are entertaining.

         Midoriya become flustered at the comparison to All Might but calmed when everyone began to talk about their own Quirks. I would not be surprised if he had a connection to All Might as personal as Aaron’s, especially if his Quirk is not his own; however, my thoughts were quickly interrupted as Kirishima began making comparisons.

         “Well, if any of our classmates have pro Quirks, it’s Todoroki and Bakugou. Nadal, too.”

         Tsuyu added, “Sure, but Bakugou’s always angry, so he’ll never be that popular. And we haven’t even seen Faian in actual action.”

         That certainly seemed to rile the Iratus Catella. He began to argue, but Kaminari soon pegged him as having an awful personality (his verbiage was a bit… lacking). Naturally, this only spurred him on.

         Fortunately, Aizawa reestablished some semblance of order as he told us we had reached our destination.

         As we stood, gathered in front of the massive structure towering over us, the Space Hero, Thirteen, greeted us. She, or is it he? They?

         Thirteen began to explain that they had created the facility before us ‘to deal with different types of disasters’. It was dubbed the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, USJ for short.

         While I was admiring the sheer volume of the USJ, the conversation between Aizawa and Thirteen definitely caught my attention, more so when my little clover seemed to understand what they had meant by All Might exhausting his power. This is turning out to be quite an interesting week.

         “Listen carefully.” Thirteen began. I’m sure you’re aware that I have a powerful Quirk. It’s called Black Hole. I can use it to suck up anything and turn it into dust.”

         After a few comments from the class (Midoriya) about how they’ve used their Quirk to save people, they continued. “That’s true, but my Quirk could also very easily be used to kill.”

         I take it back; the past twenty-four hours have been exceedingly exciting.

         “Some of you also have powers that can be dangerous. In our superhuman society, all Quirks are certified and stringently regulated so we often overlook how unsafe they can actually be. Please don’t forget that if you lose focus or make the wrong move, your powers can be deadly. Even is you’re trying to do something virtuous, like rescue someone.”

         They were right. While not as obvious in Japan, many other countries, including the States, suffer from a rather disproportionate percentage of villain attacks and Quirk misuse.

         “Thanks to Aizawa’s fitness tests, you have a solid idea of your Quirk’s potential. And because of All Might’s combat training and Nadal’s review, you likely experienced how dangerous your powers can be when used against other people. Carry those lessons over to this class. Today, you’re going to learn how to use your Quirks to save people’s lives.”

         It will be their own that they must save, my little dragonling…

         I tensed and readied myself for what may come as Thirteen continued to give their instruction.

         “You won’t be using your powers to attack enemies or each other, only to help. After all, that’s what being a hero is all about. Ensuring the safety of others. That’s all I have to say. Thank you so much for listening.”

         Many of my classmates gave a cheer before Aizawa began his part of the-

         Show me your will.

         Electricity crackled, and the fountain in the center of the USJ began to sputter before a misty spiral of black and purple spun into existence, warping the area.

         A portal. One that burst into the foreboding shapeless body of a person as villains spilled from its depths.

         “Stay together and don’t move!” Aizawa commanded. “Thirteen. Protect the students! Legend, on me!”

         Confusion spread over the class as Aizawa barked at them to ‘stay back’. I made my way to the front, my hood obscuring the upper half of my face.

         “This is real. Those are villains.”

         Two of the villains spoke, revealing that they infiltrated U.A. and were behind the press storming the campus. My concern only grew as they continued to speak.

         They came for All Might.

         They want Aaron’s father dead, and it appears as if they have prepared for this. If they believe they can face the strongest hero, as well as Eraser Head and Thirteen, then they cannot be trifled with.

         A man with grayish-blue hair was making the threats, and while his childlike demeanor and the numerous hands adorning his body definitely grave credence to his villainous intentions, he made a fatal mistake.

         He underestimated us.

         Admittedly, that would be more reassuring if the alarms were not being blocked and if my classmates would calm themselves.

         “Thirteen, get them outta here. And alert the main campus. Actually, if they’ve got the ability to block our sensors, then they might be jamming our regular communications, too.” Aizawa was on top of things, managing to keep himself and the others collected. “Kaminari, try using your Quirk to contact the school.”

         Midoriya quickly interjected, claiming Aizawa could not face so many villains on his own.

         “You can’t be a pro if you only have one trick. I’ll leave it to you, Thirteen. Legend, make sure no one makes it past the stairs.”

         With his final order, Eraser Head leapt from his position and confronted the assortment of villains. I gave a nod to Thirteen as I sauntered down the stairs. Extending my left to my side, I summoned six rapiers of swirling wind and lighting before launching them at the base of the steps, already blowing back and electrocuting several villains when they embedded themselves in the ground.

         Although, I did not have much to do. Eraser Head was effortlessly making his way through the villains, and I merely sat at the bottom of the steps, my blades preventing whatever villain thought they got passed him and could take on a kid.

         You’re slipping.

         She was right. With my attention on Eraser Head, and his own fixated on his next target, the misty warping villain had gotten past us. I took one of my blades and incapacitated a few villains with their backs turned near me before one countered me and knocked it out my grasp.

         Leaping into the air after and connecting my feet with the hilt, I kicked off it, rocketing back up the stairs as the blade shot back at the villain, piercing through the earth in front of them before letting off a small tempest.

         Summoning a great Zweihänder in my right, I prepared myself to face the villain, but he was much too ready. Creating a swirling dome of mist, he ensnared most of the class and Thirteen, and opened a portal directly in front of me. Unable to slow down or dodge it, I turned to try and see if another would open as my exit point.

         I was sent hurtling into the fountain, destroying it and momentarily losing consciousness from the impact. It was for a moment, but enough to dispel my constructs and undo the seal hiding my natural form.

         Thankfully, my cloak was made specifically to accommodate any transformations (mainly just my natural form; Prudentia and Anima were a later experiment and are not as drastic). Figuring most everyone else was teleported, I deemed it best to aid Eraser Head more directly. I should save my magic and take advantage of my physical prowess.

         ___

I, surprisingly, had a great deal of fun writing this chapter. I cannot wait to share the next part!

Also, for those who celebrate Thanksgiving (being Native American and European, I definitely do), have a wondrous time! For those of you who do not, all the better for getting in those Black Friday lines sooner.

Beta Reader, Editor, and Co-Author- @i-am-here-with-fanfic

[mtvswatches]

Wynonna Earp 1x13 I Walk the Line

Wynonna Earp 1x12 House of Memories

Spoilers disclaimer (please read before sending messages or writing comments.)

Click here for previous recaps!

Stray thoughts

1) Well…

Can you shoot them?

Yes.

Should you shoot them?

Also yes.

Do they need to be shot?

Yas.

2) They just threw her out of the window! Priceless!

3) Noononononononono

4) So… for a second there it seemed as though Bobo would be able to cross the threshold but then he started burning up, and I thought: “Yes! That means that Willa is NOT the true heir!” But of course, they needed Peacemaker, and she was like “but I have it” and again I was “Yes! That means that Willa is NOT the true heir!” but… it wasn’t the real Peacemaker. Bless Waverly – I’m assuming it was her who came up with this idea… - but when exactly did she pull off the switcharoo? Or did we see that and I just forgot about it?

5) Please tell me that’s not fucking Clootie…

Who would get her out of her comfy hole?! And more importantly, WHY?

6) Oh, my god, bitch, you’d better die in this episode!!

I KNEW IT! I knew I shouldn’t trust you, you duplicitous wannabe-heir!

7) She’s so fucking disgusting, I can’t get over it????

WILLA: Maybe we have time for a quickie. You screw me, and then we screw this town.

For a second, I thought that she might be trying to play Bobo, but no, she’s just a fucking nasty bitch, that’s all.

8) Oooh, Doc is ready to pour some tea…

And Dolls’ explanation…? 

It's just medicine. Look, I've taken this since I was a kid. It helps keep me alive and some parts of me dead.

9) Nicole just saw the weapons stash and got all wet. That’s my girl.

10) I also love her reaction to being brought up to speed. She was like, “Finally, thank you!” Like, seriously, it comes to a point in supernatural shows where it is disrespectful to the characters to keep them in the dark about the supernatural.

11) Seriously, dude, if anyone is a cancer is yourself, just take a look in the mirror.

12) So… Willa is still looking for Peacemaker so it can’t have been her who put Waverly to sleep and kidnapped her…

13)  It was fucking Chrissy who got Waverly!

14) Ay, Wynonna, why aren’t all your alarms going off right now? Everything Willa has said so far is giving her away… She couldn’t care less about Waverly’s safety, she’s only concerned about getting Peacemaker back and she just wants to off all those “meatsticks” – her words – so I hope Wynonna is not that gullible…

15) Same initials as Jesus Christ? What’s this dude’s name?

16) So, on top of all the other evil things about him, Bobo’s also a pedophile, right? I mean, Willa must have been a teen when they “fell in love”, right? Can someone please help with the timeline?

17) So the bitch is showing her true colors…

I really love this! If I think back to episode one, I would’ve predicted that Waverly would be the optimistic, naïve sister in contrast to Wynonna’s cynicism and untrustworthiness. But Waverly is intuitive like Bobo said, and she is damn smart. So while everyone else was celebrating Willa’s return, she held her guard up and watched. Ugh, Waverly has the potential to be my favorite…

18) OMG the fucking bitch just shot Nicole!! After Wynonna gave up Peacemaker because WAVERLY SAID THAT SHE LOVED NICOLE!!!! I swear to God, if Willa is alive after this episode I’ll fucking go and murder her myself!

19) Oh thank god she was wearing a bulletproof vest! And she’s also got Wynonna’s approval…

20) Now, this?

This is rather epic…

21) I knew the Sheriff was going to stand up for Wynonna, he’s been slowly but surely turning into a somewhat decent man, has come a long way since his misogynistic remarks from episode one.

22) Guys, I’m really into this. Now Wynonna has to save all the townspeople, who are literally placing their lives on her hands. Like, it’s literally full circle since episode one and I’m loving it!

23) DOLLS ALSO GOT SHOT?! WTF IS THIS SHOW DOING?!!!

24) Oh, no worries, false alarm…

HE’S JUST A FUCKING MONSTER!

25) Okay, I’m genuinely scared of Dolls?

26) Why didn’t Dolls let Wynonna touch him? Are the drugs he’s taking contagious or something? Again, they really don’t seem like medicine…

27) I’m not gonna lie. I’m super excited about watching Doc and Wynonna teaming up and shooting up everyone’s assholes into hell.

28) WTF Waverly!

Is she really trying to reason with Bobo…?

29) Okay, so… Willa was thirteen… when Bobo “fell in love” with her…

30) Shit, I did not see that coming…

But at least he has some decency left in him, he protected her from Willa…

31) Oh, Waverly, I want to hug her…

32) So many Spuffy “Touched” vibes, the feels are real…

WYNONNA: Come on, Doc, spit it out. DOC: Spit what out? WYNONNA: You know, the rousing old-timey speech that's gonna make me believe I can take on my own sister. Come on. WWWD. What Would Wyatt Do? DOC: I once had a dog the name of Plucky. WYNONNA: Your big pep talk is "Plucky"?

33) ISTG! Why am I such trash for ships like this?!

34) Seriously, though, doesn’t this whole conversation give you Spuffy vibes?!

WYNONNA: Willa's got Peacemaker. Bobo's got telekinetic powers. What do we got?

DOC: Things that go boom.

WYNONNA: She's better than me, Doc. Faster. I don't think I can beat her.

DOC: But you are still gonna try.

WILLA: I have to.

DOC: Careful, Earp. Doing what's right even in the face of ridiculous odds? You are beginning to sound like a hero.

35)  Okay, so… Dolls’ superiors want to kinda let Bobo cross the border and see what happens? And she called Dolls a monster, and I’m guessing it’s not a metaphor…

36) Bobo was ricocheting the bullets like fucking Neo or something and then…

A fucking grenade!!!

37) Wait…

That fucking JC guy said that if the heir crossed the limits with hatred in her heart they would all go to hell or something, didn’t he?!

38) Oh my fucking god Wynonna, just fucking shoot her!!

39) Dolls shot her…

And this snake thingy definitely has some Buffy vibes…

40) Oh, damn, this wasn’t as satisfying as I had expected…

41) Yep, this was epic…

But what does it mean about the borders?

42) And they’re taking both Bobo and Dolls…

43) “We know what you did.” What the fuck did she do?!

44) Wait, are they going to blow up the whole town?! Why did that bitch say “Boom”?

45) So… the revenants want to leave the triangle, but there are other thingies that want to get in…

46) …

She put him out of his misery… wtf!!! No more Bobo?! (and I’ve just realized how ridiculous that question sounds)

47) WTF!!

Waverly, why on earth would you touch a sticky substance in a hellhole like Purgatory?! And why is this show not over with the plot twists?!

48) WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

49) What an awesome season finale! I enjoyed literally every second of it, the surprises kept on coming and I didn’t have time to deal! I’ve got to so many questions?! Who’s the old one Bobo mentioned? What possessed Waverly? I’m positive she couldn’t have shot Wynonna, but who or what did she shoot? Is Bobo really gone? Or will he be back? Who’s Waverly’s father?! And how the hell is Wynonna going to manage to keep the revenants from getting out while guarding off the things that want to get in?

This show has everything that I love about supernatural shows, and I’m super into it! I can’t wait to start watching season 2!! And if you have any questions about my feelings/opinions about season 1 stuff, hit the ask box!

50) There are more comments in this recap than minutes in the episode, btw.

51) Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi.Thanks!

[disorganizedkitten]

I am bad at posting in multiple places but if you follow A study in Friendship now’s the time to catch up. We’re at chapter five now, and it’s over 5k!

 Yeah, I’m surprised too.

 I asked about a tag list and then someone reblogged but Tumblr is a butt and I’m having trouble seeing what they said if anything, so I’ll be working on that too.

 Anyway! You can find Chapter five over on AO3 or right here on Tumblr because I’m on a computer and feel like it. First full chapter on Tumblr!

Chloe had not, in fact, left her alone once the week was up. Instead, Sabrina learned that Chloe had been holding back over the past month. Go figure. And while Sabrina still had some problems defending herself, for every scathing comment Chloe sent her way, one of her friends would have a supportive comeback.

In short, life wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty amazing!!!

Did she mention she had seven friends now? Seven!! Marinette, George, Alya, Calista, Rose, Nino, and Adrien. And she was on tentatively good terms with the rest of her fellow students. That had never happened before! She could greet people and be greeted back, positively.

And sometimes it wasn’t her making first contact!

Like today, for instance.

“Good morning Sabrina!” Calista called, waving excitedly in the hallway.

“Good morning Calista!” Sabrina couldn’t help the smile as she dashed up and hugged Calista. “Did you have a good afternoon?”

“Oh it was amazing! I ended up in the catacombs, which yes I know is really dangerous, but I found some really cool stuff. I’m even checking with my dad to see if it counts as property open to the public. And even if I can’t keep it, I have like twenty pictures.”

“Oohh,” Sabrina breathed. Calista had shown in the past week that she had an affinity for finding the coolest things in the most random places. “Can you text me some of them? Or are they all on your camera?”

“Camera,” Calista said sadly. “But I’m going to print them this afternoon. The brooch was so pretty!” Calista sighed wistfully. “Anyway,” she turned her full attention to Sabrina. “How’s your turtle set coming along?”

“It’s coming,” Sabrina answered, rocking on the balls of her feet. “I think I’m ready to put a finishing coat on the main beads, finally.”

“Aw yes!” Calista jumped. “I can’t wait to see the finished product. I have told you how talented you are with beadwork, right?”

“You have,” Sabrina answered around a smile. Calista had said it at least five times in the past week. Especially after Sabrina had given her the star bracelet. Which Calista had worn every day since.

“Well I’m saying it again, you’re super talented, and the turtle set is going to come out looking so amazing.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Sabrina blushed.

“Cally!” One of Calista’s classmates skidded up to the pair. “Cally! Christian and Lucien are trying to claw each other’s hearts out.”

Calista sighed. “This is what I get for running for class rep. Well, better go stop them from getting hurt. See you later Sabrina!” She waved, her classmate latching onto her arm.

“See you!” Sabrina waved as Calista was dragged off by her classmate. Sabrina continued along the upper hallway to her classroom.

“Hey Sabrina!!” Alya leant over Marinette’s empty seat and held out a fist, Sabrina tapped it happily with her own as she passed.

“Hi Alya!

“Morning Ivan!” He glanced over at her, and she caught a small smile as he nodded to her before resuming his conversation with Mylene. Sabrina was… bad… in the love department, but even she could see how in love the two of them were.

Finding someone that compatible for herself in a few years would be a dream come true. For now though, Sabrina would just watch their love bloom happily.

She walked up to her seat, stopping to greet her almost-friend in the back row. “Hi Juleka.” the goth gave a tiny one-handed wave and muttered ‘Hello’ back.

Sabrina even chanced a wave at Nathaniel before she turned and slid into her seat. The redhead gave her a similar wave as Juleka had.

“Good morning Sabrina!” Rose called, skipping up the steps. “Good morning Juleka! Good morning Ivan! Good Morning Adrien, Good morning Mylene! Good Morning Alya! Good Morning Nino! Good morning Nate! Good Morning Max! Good Morning Kim!”

A chorus of ‘Good morning Rose!’ echoed back at the peppy blonde. Rose smiled as she slid into her seat in the back row.

Chloe stalked into the room, head held high. She sent a smirk to the back of the room, and Sabrina shivered. That was not a good kind of smirk. Sabrina hoped that Chloe was just acting haughtily to ride on her father’s coattails. M. Bourgeois was on his way to winning the mayoritorial elections, again. M. D’Argentcourt had been thoroughly humiliated throughout his campaign. At times it seemed the entire city was working against him.

Power players such as Andre were probably why the Americans had a limit on how many terms a leader could serve.

Sabrina listened in on the various conversations as she waited for Mme. Bustier to arrive.

Max was describing an idea for an AI with emotions to Juleka; Rose, Alix, and Mylene had started to talk about shades of the Color pink, and Kim was saying something about not being afraid of anything Ivan would ever know about, - spiders, if it hadn’t changed from when Sabrina had gathered blackmail info last year so that no one would run against her and Chloe in-

Oh crap.

Class representative elections had been making their way around the school this month. Calista had just been voted in on Friday.

Her life had changed a lot in two months. A lot, because she used to have the dates to start gathering information ingrained into her internal clock, and knew exactly what it was for every time. She had thought her secret hunting urges were just because she was so excited about Kitty Section forming and that she knew Nathaniel had been working on a secret project. She’d completely forgotten about elections.

Sabrina had never considered herself someone for whom adaptation was easy, and yet here she was.

“Oh it would be amazing if we got cushioned seats this year. Do you think that whoever gets elected would do that?”

Mylene hummed. “I don’t know, Rose, Chloe definitely wouldn’t.”

“Well no, but Chloe doesn’t have to be the rep this year.”

“She doesn’t?”

“I mean,” Rose took a breath and then leaned forward so she could talk to Sabrina. “Bri, are you gonna help Chloe run for rep this year?”

Sabrina wasted no time shaking her head, keeping her gaze stubbornly on Rose’s face. “Nope.”

Rose smiled, turning back to Mylene. “See?”

“Yeah, okay. But who’s going to run instead?”

“Good question!” Rose leaned over her desk again. “Bri, are you going to run?”

Sabrina paused at that. She hadn’t thought about it. She considered it for a moment, waving to Marinette as she entered, then turned and told Rose she really didn’t know, adding on a “besides, I don’t think I’d be that good at being in charge. I might run for assistant rep.”

“Wait does that mean we’ll have fair elections this year?” Marinette asked, turning around in her seat.

Sabrina nodded.

Marinette pumped her fist. “Yes! Have we decided who’s running this year?”

“I want to run for rep,” Rose admitted. “It’ll be fun to try.”

“I’m running too!” Kim added loudly. “This time she can’t hold my fear of spi-something against me!”

“Can’t I, Kim?” Chloe’s icy voice interrupted. Sabrina watched as she sashayed up the aisle and slammed her hand onto Kim’s desk. “I don’t have anything new to use against you, but don’t think for a minute that I won’t use what I still have.” Chloe turned her glare to Sabrina. She flinched. Chloe looked triumphant about that. “I don’t need Sabrina to keep you plebeians in line.

“Anybody who runs against me this year will meet the same fate as previous years.” She yawned into her hand. “I’ll just have to go without an assistant this year.” Chloe turned away and sashayed back down the stairs. She slid into her seat, head held high.

Mme. Bustier clapped her hands before the conversation could continue.

The subdued attitude carried through the rest of class, and only worsened when Mme. Bustier officially announced that the Class Representative election for their class would happen this week, and that anyone who wanted to run needed to decide by fourth period, and have their paperwork in by Tuesday morning.

“I had been so excited,” Rose lamented, setting her tray down between Juleka and Sabrina. The entire class, sans Chloe, had gathered for lunch in the cafeteria.

“Is Chloe really that bad of a class representative?” Adrien asked.

The emphatic Yes from the rest of the class had him flinching. Sabrina felt a little sorry for him. She , at least, had no misconceptions as to what Chloe was like when they were friends. Or, less misconceptions. It was worse from the other side, but not by too much.

“I don’t think we should let her have her way this year.” Alix stated. “I mean, Marinette already told her to take her bad attitude somewhere else, why don’t we all help reinforce that idea? Between the, what, thirteen? Of us, most of her threats won’t actually mean anything, right?”

“Yeah!” Kim cheered.

Max cleared his throat. “As much as I hate to kill the mood, Chloe's threats do still apply. She can still spill secrets, and she has enough pull with the school board that she can still carry them out, just not with the same amount of ease as previous years.”

Alix groaned, laying her head on the table. “Her tyranny has to end somewhere.”

“What if we blackmail her back?” Juleka asked, forking a piece of (furd) into her mouth. Sabrina jolted, staring at her flabbergasted. Apparently she wasn't the only one, because Juleka shrunk in on herself a bit a moment later. “It was just a suggestion.”

“There's got to be someone she has nothing on,” Alix huffed. “Wait a minute, Sabrina?”

Sabrina froze as all eyes turned on her.

“Alix, what are you asking?” Ivan asked, a hint of accusation in his tone. Sabrina wasn't sure which girl it was truly aimed at.

“Who doesn't she have blackmail on.” Alix said again. “Sabrina, you know this, right?”

Sabrina nodded slightly. She didn't like it when the past was brought up, she had tormented them so much, but it was inevitable in this situation. She took a deep breath before answering, hoping her voice stayed factual and firm. “Kind of. I don't have anything on Marinette, Alya, or Adrien. But Chloe might have found something else since I left.”

At her words, the class erupted. Sabrina winced at the overlapping yells, moving to cover her ears. Some of the noise was cheers, some were questions, Kim was making a lot of it, really it was just too much, too much, she couldn't think, how could thirteen people make so much noise-

There was a bang as Marinette stood up, slamming her hands onto the table. “Guys!” her shout cut through the din surprisingly well. The class turned to look at Marinette instead of each other. “One at a time,” she ordered calmly.

Sabrina lowered her hands back tO her lap, taking a deep breath in the relative calm.

Rose raised her hand.

“Yes Rose?”

“If you run, do you think we can build a petition for scrapbooking club like we did for the art room?”

Marinette flushed scarlet. “I don't think I'll run, but I can definitely help you set that up if Chloe closes it.”

“Girl, why wouldn’t you run?” Alya asked. “You might be the only one who can.”

“What?” Marinette sat back down, turning so she could focus her incredulous look on Alya. “I can't lead people! And even if I could, I don't have enough time to do so properly.”

“Well I can’t be class rep around the Ladyblog, and Adrien is always busy.”

Sabrina could bring up a few examples to fight most of the points Marinette had brought up. The time one was the only thing she couldn’t argue against. But.. Hadn’t she said she wanted to be assistant rep? After running both her and Chloe’s lives for years, there was at least one thing she was good at, and that was managing events around the rest of lives. And time as a whole. As long as Marinette was okay with that, of course. “I could help with the time thing,” she rushed out, closing her eyes. She didn’t want to see what they thought of that. Rose would be supportive, but she didn’t know how the others would act. There was no sound from the rest of the table. Had she just ruined their friendship by going against what Marinette had said? Oh she hoped not, she had only been trying to help!

“What about your own schedule?” Marinnette asked.

Sabrina opened her eyes. Marinette didn’t look mad, thank goodness. Instead she looked… worried?

“Oh I can manage mine with time to spare!” she assured her. “It’s not a problem to help, really.”

“If you’re sure you want too, that could work.” Marinette said slowly. “But I don’t want to be an absentee rep for everyone.”

“I could run with you, and we could work together, like with the project! Find times that work for both of us, and then just plan a few weeks in advance.”

Marinette’s smile was worth taking the chance to say that. “I think that could work.” Rose started clapping, and soon the entire class was too. Sabrina blushed at the praise. She just kept topping herself at how happy and important she could feel. They weren’t clapping only for her, of course it was for Marinette too, but still.

***

Sabrina rocked on her heels at the apartment door. Marinette had offered for her to come over Tuesday night for them to get a strategy working. Sabrina was late, an akuma had attacked while she was on her way to Marinette’s house. She hoped Marinette wouldn’t be upset. There were footsteps on the other side, and then Marinette yanked the door open. “Sabrina are you okay?”

“Yeah. I was able to hide.” Sabrina assured her quickly. “Oh thank goodness.” Marinette hugged her. “Come on in.” she pulled back and opened the door wider. Sabrina smiled and followed her inside and upstairs. “So where should we start?” Marinette asked, plopping into her desk chair and sliding over to her desk. She picked up a box and a screwdriver off her desk, and then spun to face Sabrina. “Do you mind if I work while we talk?” Sabrina shook her head. “Not at all! What are you working on?”

“A locking box,” Marinette shrugged. “I figured that even though she shouldn’t realistically be able to get up here, I might as well lock up my diary anyway.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Sabrina agreed.

“Do you want me to make you one too after I’m done?”

Sabrina shook her head. “I’ve got my own measures. Thank you for the offer though!”

Marinette smiled. “Good on you.” “So how are we running this campaign? Chloe normally trys to ruin her competition, but that doesn’t seem like a very you thing to do.”

“Definitely not,” Marinette agreed emphatically. “I was considering a full speech, you know?”

“I can help with speeches,” Sabrina agreed. “And you’ve come up with some good ones on the spot before, so this one is bound to turn out amazing!”

Marinette giggled. “Thanks Sabrina.

“Oh! We have to do the paperwork first! How did I forget that?” Marinette spun her chair again, setting the box on her desk so she could open up her computer. A few minutes later her printer was running. “Okay, there’s that.”

Marinette handed Sabrina her set of papers, and sat down with her own. “Do you need a pen?”

“Yes please,” Sabrina answered. Marinette passed her a pen, and they got to work. Line one; year, class, and name.

As it turned out, Marinette did a lot more work than Chloe ever had while they ran. In years past, Sabrina and Chloe had won immediately for lack of competition. Now, she and Marinette were running against Chloe. And even though they knew most would vote for them instead, Marinette was determined to be a worthy candidate, not just someone who was voted for instead. And that was just from the first night of planning and preparing!

Sabrina loved her.

Laying on Marinette’s bedroom floor, Sabrina ticked off another few boxes concerning her health status before looking back up at Marinette. Marinette was beside Sabrina, her cheeks puffed, and her legs kicking back and forth violently. Sabrina pursed her lips, looking down at the next question on the form. Why do you think you’ll be a good candidate? That one was tricky. Why did she? Organizational skills would work as a reason, right?

“Sabrina, did they nominate me just because I wasn’t Chloe?” Marinette asked, flopping onto her back.

Sabrina looked over, puffing her own cheek. “I doubt it. You have the makings of a good leader. You’re super nice and check on everyone. Or, almost everyone.” She didn’t name the one person she didn’t think Marinette took care of, that was obvious. But still. “That’s what the representative does anyway, right? Take care of everyone?” And really, Marinette had a big enough heart to take care of even Chloe if it came to it.

Marinette sighed. “Yeah. I just don’t want anybody to think I’m only doing it because it’s my responsibility.”

Sabrina hummed. “I don’t think anyone would think that. I mean,” she forced a laugh. “Look at me! I went from the second most hated girl in our grade to someone with actual friends in four weeks after you offered. And that was all before this.” She looked down at her hands. “They’d have to have pretty bad memories to think you only help because you have to.”

Marinette chuckled. “I don’t think we have anyone with memory problems in our class.”

Sabrina smiled, and turned back to her forms. The sound of pencils reigned for a minute, and then; “Thank you Sabrina. I needed to hear that.”

“No problem.”

You know, support for her friends and good at making things happen were both things that would be good on this. She might as well. In the margins, she ends up scribbling an extra note. Mostly to support Marinette.

***

“How do you speech?” Marinette asked, glaring at her tablet screen as though it had personally offended her.

This prep meeting was at Sabrina’s house, so they were sitting on Sabrina’s bed to brainstorm and write Marinette’s electoral speech.

“Be personal, don’t ramble too much, stay engaged, metaphors are only good if they’re simple or you explain them, bulletpoint a point a minute if you have that much time or that many topics, uhhh,” Sabrina leant over Marinette’s side to look at her screen. “That looks pretty good, actually. Do you want me to start the stopwatch and see if it fits in the time?”

Marinette shook her head. “I’m gonna revise it again first.” Sabrina shrugged. “OKay.” She sat back up, and pulled her beadwork back onto her lap. She was working on a new set of more casual jewelry, pink flowers for this one’s theme. The turtles weren’t done yet, she had run out of the type of clasp and hadn’t been able to get more yet, but she was okay with that.

“Ah-ha!” Marinette exclaimed. “I think I got it! Where’s the stopwatch?”

Sabrina grabbed it from it’s pocket on her lap tray. “Right here. Want me to watch it?” “Sure. Thank you!”

Sabrina set up the clock and started counting down. “Three, two one, go!” She hit start, and Marinette took off, her voice loud, if a bit shaky.

“So as you know, I’m running for class rep-”

***

“Alya I think I’m gonna die,” Marinette said in lieu of a usual greeting as she slid into her seat.

It didn’t help Sabrina’s nerves at all.

Alya sighed, turning slightly to look at her friend. “Marinette, you’ll be fine. You and Sabrina worked on this all week, you’re going to kill it.”

“But what if we don’t?” Marinette asked, grabbing Alya’s shoulders.

“Marinette, you’re going up against Chloe.”

“Which is why I’m worried!” “You’ll be fine. She’s not that big of a threat.” Marinette didn’t seem convinced, but she let the subject drop. “Any luck getting an interview with Ladybug?” she asked instead. As Alya descended into an excited ramble about the two minutes of talking she got to do with Ladybug yesterday, Marinette did a half-turn and waved. Sabrina waved back, trying to smile. She didn’t really feel it had come out right.

She was really nervous. Really, really nervous. They had been prepping all week, but there was still a small margin for error. And that small margin would become a big margin if there was an akuma attack or if Chloe came up with a really good plan.

“Are you okay?”

Sabrina jumped at Ivan’s question. “Yep! Of course! No problems here! Not nervous or anything! Heh.” From the look on his face, he didn’t believe her in the slightest. “No,” she sighed. “I’ve broken away from Chloe, but this is the first time I’ll be directly opposing her since the project. I’m worried.”

Ivan shrugged. “We’ve all been scared of Chloe at one point or another. Don’t worry, if she tries anything, we’ll have your back.”

Sabrina smiled. She and Ivan hadn’t talked too much in the four weeks since she started to sit by him, but she felt like they were almost friends anyway. “Thanks Ivan.” “Alright class, settle down. Before we start our lesson today, I have to remind you that elections are this afternoon at city hall, so be sure to be there!”

Sabrina felt her gut clench again, and she stubbornly did not look towards Chloe’s bench.

Classes passed in a blur. Sabrina almost never had trouble paying attention, but today she was very out of it. She kept going through scenarios in her head that grew increasingly dire as the hours passed. The only things she could remember in detail were the talks inbetween classes. A lot of ‘good luck!’s were sent their way, and George and Calista even pulled her aside to give her a few packages of chocolate. Calista had said something about being excited to see her in presidency meetings.

Sabrina was really glad they had an hour between school and the elections. It was set so kids in fencing or scrapbooking would be able to go to both.

Sabrina stood on the school steps, trying to figure out where she’d go in the interim. She and Marinette had decided that the best thing to do would be to go propless, so she didn’t need to go home. She found herself watching Chloe saunter up to her car. Her dad had officially won the elections today. It was a fact that just made Sabrina more nervous. Chloe turned at the door, and smirked. Sabrina whined in her throat. Was it too late to back out?

“Want to spend the wait at my house?”

Yes, it was. Sabrina turned to shook Marinette a shaky smile. Marinette needed the support. “That sounds amazing.”

“You don’t sound too good,” Marinette noted. “Are you going to be okay? Do you just need to breathe for a bit?”

“I think so,” Sabrina nodded. Breathing sounded nice.

“Come on, we can watch a few episodes of something while we wait.”

They ended up watching lighthearted and simple cartoons, while eating some of Marinette’s scarily large cookie collection, to keep them from fretting too much. Eventually though, the alarm to start towards the city hall rung, and they were pulled back to the present.

“Ready?” Marinette asked, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

“Not at all,” Sabrina admitted.

“Me neither,” Marinette confirmed. “Better when it’s over, right?”

“Normally,” Sabrina agreed. “We should go before I decide I can’t.”

“Then let’s go.”

“Hey Sabrina?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for volunteering to have my back.”

“You’re welcome. I mean, we made a good team, right?”

“Yeah.”

They were only a block away from the hall when Marinette’s phone started going off. She dug it out, and held it between herself and Sabrina. “What’s up, Alya?”

“Chloe’s trying to buy votes,” Alya’s annoyed tone came through the speaker. “With Jagged Stone tickets.”

That sounded like Chloe.

“For real?” Marinette asked.

“For real. How close are you?”

“Just around the corner,” Marinette assured her. “Sabrina and I will be there in just a minute.”

“Alright, see you soon.”

“Jagged Stone tickets,” Marinette huffed. “Of course she’s going for a bribe.”

“We knew she would do something,” Sabrina sighed.

“Yeah. Well, let’s get in there and show her that money can’t buy everythinG!” Marinette said enthusiastically. Her nerves at least, seemed to have dissipated into fury. Sabrina couldn’t say the same for her own.

All the same, there were a lot of things money couldn’t buy. Like true friendship.

The girls entered city hall, and were greeted with the cheers of some classmates.

“Yeah! Come show us what you’ve got!” Alix yelled, her eyes alight with excitement.

Sabrina smiled a bit. She wasn’t going up against a hostile crowd. She was by Marinette’s side. She could do this.

And then the akuma attacked.

***

“I didn’t abandon anyone, Chloe!” Marinette snapped. “I got knighted while trying to close the upper windows.”

Everyone had been knighted by the end of the fight. It was scary, watching the darkness close in, not knowing if Marinette was safe - which she wasn’t - and knowing they were doomed too.

Adrien cracked some pun about it being a knightmare to be knighted, and Sabrina had to agree. She would be having nightmares for a week.

“Well, obviously only one of you showed any actual leadership skills during the attack, so I think we all know who we’re voting for,” Alya said sassily. Sabrina took s step back at Chloe’s scowl.

“Not so fast Alya,” Marinette said.

“See! She’s already throwing in the towel! Obviously I’m the best representative, I can handle the job.”

“That’s not what she said,” Sabrina muttered. Chloe’s glare snapped to her. She took another step back.

“Sabrina’s right,” Marinette said. “I said it wasn’t time for voting yet, not that I was quitting.” She turned to the class at large. Sabrina could feel a speech coming on. “I don’t want you all to vote for me based on one interaction, and I don’t want you to vote for me because I’m not Chloe. I want you to cast your votes to who you think will actually do the job best. I won’t be able to do everything, but I’m good at finding compromises and thinking outside the box. Sabrina’s extremely good at schedules, and finding all the hurdles we need to jump to get to a specific goal. We’re good partners, and I promise we’ll both do our best. So, vote for Marinette and Sabrina as Class Representatives!”

Sabrina and Alya were the first to clap, followed by Adrien and Rose, and then everyone but Chloe and the mayor. “Go ahead and go vote Class. I’m sure we’re all eager to have our representatives chosen for the year,” Mme. Bustier encouraged. The entirety of the not-nominated classmates surged forward at once.

Marinette meanwhile, stepped up to Sabrina’s side. “So, uh, that went...” she trailed off with a nervous laugh.

“As far from plan as possible?” Sabrina offered. “Yeah, that’s a good way to describe it,” Marinette agreed. “I completely forgot my speech.”

“It sounded good anyway.”

Their conversation was stopped by Mme. Bustier clapping. “Alright students! Marinette, Chloe, Sabrina, please come up so we can announce the winner!”

“Come on!” Marinette whispered excitedly, holding out her hand. Sabrina took it, trying not to squeezed too hard.

Chloe kept her head up as she joined them, but Sabrina knew the look of fury in her eyes. She bit back another whimper.

“The votes have been counted,” Mme. Bustier said. “And the winners are...” she paused for emphasise. Sabrina caught onto her wording though. She took a deep breath, and fixed a smile on her face. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Sabrina Raincomprix!”

Alya and Rose squealed from where they were in the crowd, and Sabrina wasn’t able to fully turn to smile at Marinette before Rose tackled her.

“You did it! Sabrina I’m so proud of you! I just know you’re going to be amazing!” Rose pulled back, wiping her eyes. “I’m so proud. You’ve just bloomed!” and then she burst into tears.

Sabrina didn’t know what to do with that. Was Rose okay? She didn’t know, but Juleka seemed to think so.

She took her friend’s arm gently. “Come on Rose, let others congratulate her too.” She looked up and smiled at Sabrina. “Congratulations, Sabrina.” Juleka led Rose over to tell Marinette congratulations too, and then Sabrina lost sight of them in the crowd of classmates. It was only her class there, but it felt like a lot more while they were all wishing her good luck and offering congratulations. Eventually the stream died down, and Sabrina could breathe again. She turned to find Alya primed with her phone.

“Come on girls, lets get some smiles! I’ve got to put this on the school blog!”

Marinette found her way back to Sabrina’s side, and they took a moment to pose. Once Alya had the picture, she rushed up to give kisses goodbye, claiming she had a family engagement she was already late for. “I guess this is it then?” Marinette said.

“Yeah.”

“This year is going to be wild.”

Sabrina agreed. It had already been wild, between the Akumas and magic and the shifting power structures.

“I’m glad I have you as a partner in this,” Marinette said, setting an arm on her shoulder. “Thank you, really.”

“I like doing things I’m good at,” Sabrina said honestly. “And I want to support you and the others. I’m just glad you gave me a chance.” “Of course.”

Sabrina smiled, and in a spur of the moment, she held out her fist. “Pound it?”

Marinette smiled even wider, if that was possible, and tapped her own to it. “Pound it.”