#or maybe my mother is right and I’m just incapable of happiness no matter where I am or what I’m doing

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

Anyone else feel like they’re repeating their life over and over again but just in different settings or is that just me

[onbeinganangel]

warmup ficlet for @the-starryknight! she picked 'i know we’re not together but i might die today so i’m going to kiss you just in case there is no later' from this wee list of kisses and asked me to drarry it up and I rubbed my hands together in glee knowing fully well i was about to put together a hell of an angst sandwich

not beta'd, not edited, just angst with a happy ending directly from my heart to yours! (cw: some canon-style mentions of blood, violence, injury and also kind of patient/healer relationship)

damned if you do it and damned if you don’t

(draco/harry, 1.8k)

Draco had pictured it so often throughout his life he sometimes couldn’t honestly believe he had made it all the way to twenty-seven.

He remembers saying it after being thrown on his arse by the family Abraxan. He’d been very little, then. Five or six, maybe. He’d cried, big fat tears running down his face, and when his Mother finally managed to pull his tiny fists down and stop him from hiding his crying behind them, he’d announced, “Maman, I am dying.” She had assured him he very much wasn’t. They’d had scones with big heaped spoonfuls of clotted cream and raspberry jam in the garden and he’d soon forgotten about his fall.

A few years later, he fell off his broom and straight into the lake. Dobby had spelled him dry to avoid him getting in trouble and he was still heaving, coughing up water and panicking when he told the Elf, “Dobby, I am dying.”

Then there was the incident at Hogwarts. He still felt the sharp talons on his skin way after the hippogriff was far, far away, as he bled, holding onto the gashes on his arm and announced to the whole class, “I am dying, it’s killed me!”

Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, it was more constant. It was the heavy burn of the Mark settling on his arm, it was the feeling of all his organs lighting up in pain and his bones breaking under Crucio after Crucio, it was the sounds of Nagini slithering outside his bedroom door at night, the sickening thud of death, the unsettling screaming, his aunt’s shrill nails-on-chalkboard voice, Greyback’s growls. A neverending chant of “I am dying, I am dying, I am dying, I am dying” inside his head.

It was confiding in a ghost, it was crying because the fear of failure was so intense he reckons he would have preferred to be dead then, it was the only person he believed was actually kind and pure and incapable of willingly inflicting pain on anyone slashing him open and leaving him for dead on a bathroom floor. Draco had looked at Snape, murmuring spell after spell over him, and he’d whispered, “I am dying.”

It was learning how to be numb, how to not feel, how to keep everyone out of his mind and away from his thoughts, it was the paralysing terror of crawling around in the shadows, the bone-deep dread of dropping leftover bread rolls on the floor by the bars on the dungeon and kicking them swiftly into the other side, where they kept his classmates. It was sneaking a blanket or two down and saying to himself, “If they find out…”

It was the persistent horror of knowing you don’t believe in what you’re doing and knowing you’re damned if you do it and damned if you don’t. Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, Draco would lie in his bed at night — his own at home, his own in the dorms, Pansy’s in the girls’ dorms when it got bad, and he would say it to himself, hoping it would become true, “I am dying.”

But he hadn’t. Despite all odds, Draco is happy. Twenty-seven. He’s got friends, a flat, a job he loves and he’s good at. He’s no longer spat at on the streets. He survived, he made amends, he managed it all. Most of all, he had managed not to die.

Until now, that is. This time he’s pretty certain he won’t be afforded such luck. He feels the curse hit him square on the chest. It’s his own fault, really, for not realising there was someone already in the room he entered. He’d been too busy throwing a rather flourished Incarcerous across the room at the two potions dealers he’d been running after for the past five minutes to notice the third man.

Draco is falling backwards before he has time to even think about anything, his wand clanking noisily seconds before he joins it on the floor.

Then: “Incarcerous.” He hears it — muffled but there. And after, “Fuck, Draco.”

He’s way too familiar with the way his Auror partner works not to know it’s him when the strong arms wrap around him and pull him up. “Oh, Merlin,” he hears. His eyes flutter back open for a couple of seconds and he can tell he was right, even if it’s all blurry: red robes, orange hair, worried blue eyes.

Fear. “I am dying,” he thinks. “Harry,” he says.

“You’re gonna see Harry alright,” Ron says. “He’s gonna have words about having to heal you again,” it’s almost like a joke. Like a Ronald-typical joke. But there’s an edge of worry there. There’s panic. Ronald doesn’t panic.

And it dawns on him. Draco tries to look down but it’s all red. The burgundy of his robes, the sticky dark red of drying blood on his hands and the fresh and vivid blood still pouring out of his chest. He’s not gonna make it to St. Mungo’s, he’s never going to make it to Harry.

“I am dying,” he says, and Ron makes a noise that can only be described as half agony, half agreement.

It smells like St. Mungo’s when he wakes up thinking “I am dying.” Very faintly, he hears the same voice he always hears in his dreams. Maybe he is dead. The voice never sounds like this in his dreams, though: disembodied, frantic, quick. Draco catches half words, half sentences, half conversations that don’t make sense. A different voice is saying “just do it” and “you’re powerful enough” and “sod protocol” and “I am his partner, I brought him here.” The voice from his dreams responds with things like “unstable” and “I don’t know” and “can you please try” and a “I can’t get in touch with her” and “not without consent forms” and a louder, angry “he’s not going to d—“

Draco tries to move towards the voice.

“Draco!” Says the first voice and three pairs of feet come towards him.

“Don’t try to open your eyes, don’t try to talk, don’t try to move, okay? We have stopped the bleeding for now, but we’re still trying to reverse the curse.”

“Harry.” His Harry.

“Yes, hello. We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“I am dying,” Draco croaks out.

“I won’t let you.”

Draco wants to speak. He wants to say “I am dying, I don’t want to die without telling you,” but he has no strength. His thoughts are going faster than the newest Firebolt as he hears Harry tell whoever else is in the room (Ron?) to leave. He wonders if this is it. This what they show you in the films: your life flashing before your eyes right before you die. He thinks of Harry shaking his hand after his Auror graduation ceremony. “Well done, Malfoy,” he’d said. He thinks of that first time he’d been invited over to Ron and Hermione’s, a few weeks after he became Ron’s partner, and Harry had laughed at his stories, lips wine-red and plump, eyes kind like he’d never expected. He thinks of every moment of almost in between them, every moment where Draco considered blurting it out, saying what was on his mind. The Christmas Gala as he towered over Harry and fixed the little chain on his robes for him, and that night at that dingy club for Hermione’s birthday where they’d stared at each other for forty minutes and when Draco had decided he couldn’t take it anymore, he found out that Harry had left. Or just last month when they’d gone out to buy a housewarming present for Luna and ended up eating leftovers on Harry’s sofa, exhausted from people and walking. There are too many. Too many instances of hesitation, too many “nearly-but-not-quites.”

And he’ll die and won’t ever get the chance to tell him, to kiss his handsome, stupid, precious face, and it aches — it hurts almost as much as that spot just to the left of his breastbone where the Curse had hit, where he was profusely bleeding not long ago.

“Closer,” he manages, very quietly.

Harry approaches, but not close enough, not even close enough for Draco to grab at him.

“Cl— clos—uh—closer,” he tries again.

And Harry’s right there, by his bed and he looks beautiful in his Healer robes (unheard of, really) and Draco is blinking his view into a sharper focus and listing all the things he knows he loves, the things he doesn’t want to forget: the white-ish storm of a scar that slashes through Harry’s eyebrow, the shiny (shinier than usual?) green eyes, the touch of stubble, the slightly crooked nose, the lips — oh, the lips, plump and sweet looking and Draco will never get to find out just how sweet. And then, he has to do it. Because if he’s going to die anyway, he may as well use his last breath on this.

He pushes himself off the pillow slightly and his hand pulls Harry’s green robes closer until their lips meet, clumsily and hard — Harry not expecting it, Draco waning from the efforts of pulling Harry closer, but Draco will die knowing he’s kissed Harry. And if there’s no later, at least he’s done it. At least Harry knows.

“Stop. You’ll hurt yourself,” Harry says, and pushes him back down. Gently, like everything he does.

“But—“

“I know, darling. Me too.”

Darling? Harry… too?

“I’m going to heal you, okay? I’m going to heal you and we’ll do that again. I’ll take you to dinner, or brunch, I know you like brunch. Or just coffee. We’ll go to the pictures. I’ll hold your hand. We’ll go flying. We’ll go clubbing and I’ll dance with you, I promise I will, and I’ll let you tell me how bad I am. I’ll find you a copy of that book you were talking about with Hermione, no matter how much it costs. I’ll throw my name around if I have to, okay? And we’re going to do that again, properly. When I’m not your healer and you’re not hurting. I’m going to heal you now, you just—“ he stops, then, breathing wild and panicked.

Then, a small sob. A kiss to his forehead. Draco doesn’t remember closing his eyes.

“You just hold on, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”

And Draco would cry if he had the strength, he would say yes to all those plans and more, but he focuses on the feeling of Harry’s magic sinking into his body like and he holds on, just like he was told to. He holds on, even if he doesn’t know exactly to what. And he thinks maybe he’ll get lucky again, and he’ll stop picturing himself dead like he’s been doing his whole life. Harry’s magic feels like love, like poetry, like cascading words of affection whispered into the space between his ribs, it feels like hope. And Draco holds on and thinks to himself, as loud as a thought can go, “I am not dying.”

[frostedfaves]

For the Love of A Daughter

Masterlist

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: The mom friend (or girlfriend) sometimes needs a mom, too.

Warnings: strained relations with a parent, emotional trauma mentions, a bit of angst, very unedited fic because I refuse to reread this

A/N: surprise Natasha fic as a result of my unresolved issues so I hope you enjoy! also I feel very exposed posting this so excuse me while I hide away.

-

It was no secret that you were the ‘mother’ of the group despite being the youngest, and you were astonishingly good at it. 

You were the only person able to convince Tony to sleep at some point during the night. You protected the tower from a few Code Greens by simply knowing exactly how to bring Bruce back to the front lines of his own mind. When Thor visited, you helped him unwind with Earthly snacks and movie marathons. You also helped Natasha get in touch with her emotions more, which played a small part in the two of you getting together. 

Anyone from the Red Room knows that emotions are for children, which is why Natasha despised you at first. The first moment you noticed a crack in her hard exterior, you touched it and suddenly the whole thing was shattered. She hated that you read her so easily when her job called for being a closed book. 

Unfortunately for her, there were only so many times you could place your warm hands on her heart before she gave into the comforting heat. A few minute talk one night turned into four hours and suddenly you understood why she pushed you away so often. From then on, she leaned into your caring eyes until she fell too far forward and pressed her lips to yours. She’s been glued to you ever since. 

As time went on, the rest of the Avengers got used to you lovingly patching their wounds on the jet ride home, bringing a mug of tea to their rooms when JARVIS alerted you of nightmares. Your kindness easily slipped right into their routines, a part of you that everyone eventually and quickly grew to love.

When everyone besides Thor arrived at the tower that evening, an unsettling feeling of dread filled their senses at the silence of the main floor. You’d been out to visit your mother for the first time in a while due to missions, but you promised the group you’d be home before them to make dinner. It wasn’t that they were incapable of feeding themselves (or ordering takeout to feed themselves), but you never broke a promise. 

“JARVIS, where is our tiny mother?” 

“She has not returned from her outing, sir,” the AI quickly answered Tony and Natasha sighed. 

“I’ll call her.”

“Agent L/N has arrived, sir,” JARVIS cut in before she could pull her phone from her pocket.

“And all's right with the world again,” Clint commented with a smile, earning himself a punch in the arm by Natasha. 

“Maybe she stopped at that local bakery she likes on the way home. You know, the one that sells the Hulk-shaped cookies,” Bruce suggested as the elevator doors opened. 

Your steps seemed to echo as you entered the room until you were greeted warmly by the others, and Natasha only needed a few seconds to look you over and realize you were not yourself. You were a pro at painting a comforting smile on your face but Natasha knew an artist when she saw one, especially one she loved. 

“Boys, give us a minute.”

You watched everyone slowly file out of the kitchen to find another room to hang around in, turning to Natasha with a frown. 

“Is everything okay, Nat?”

“You tell me.” She stepped closer to you, hands landing on your shoulders and sliding down until your fingers locked together. “Something’s bothering you.”

Your instantly quivering lip and tear-filled eyes left you no room to lie, so you didn’t.

“My mom’s getting married again.” You took a deep breath to prepare yourself to open up farther than you’d ever done before. “I’m actually really happy for her because her partner is a perfect match, but they have kids.”

“Are they little demons or something? I can take care of that, you know.”

“No,” you laughed a bit, the smile falling away quickly after. “No, they’re perfect little angels and I love them...and so does my mom. Probably more than she ever loved me.”

“Don’t you two have a great relationship though?” Natasha questioned, freeing a hand to wipe away an escaped tear.

“Yeah, she likes me now, but she didn’t when it really mattered. When I was their age, I would’ve killed to receive the positive attention and compassion she shows them now, and the more I watched them together, the more I felt like maybe there was something wrong with me.”

The tears fell more frequently now, faster than Natasha could wipe them away, and the waves of hurt emitting from your expression when you locked eyes was enough to wreck her heart.

“I reached out to her so much as a child with my arms opened as wide as they could go, and every time she just stepped around them. It only motivated me more to take all the love I was deprived of and share it with someone else, but sometimes I wish it was just who I was, and not a coping mechanism that turned into a personality trait.”

Natasha pulled you in flush against her, rubbing your back and squeezing a bit tighter when you began to shake in her arms. She held her tongue as she waited for you to calm, only pulling away when your sniffles were few and far apart.

“I know the world hasn’t been fair to you, but I’m proud of who you’ve become, so proud. I love that you were able to turn something so negative and hurtful into something that not only helped you feel better, but has absolutely done great healing wonders on the people around you.”

“What?” You scoffed instantly. “Nat, I didn’t do--”

“Yes you did, babe,” she pressed. “This team wouldn’t function as smoothly as it does without your gentle guidance, and I wouldn’t feel so damn warm inside when I wake up next to you.”

A grin spread across your lips as you pulled her in to kiss you. “Well when you put it that way, I guess I do something around here.”

“You do everything and then some. But don’t forget that you deserve someone to look after you, too.” She pulled out of your embrace, keeping a hold on one of your hands. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” you asked curiously as she led you back to the elevator. “I have to get dinner started.”

Natasha simply shrugged as she pressed the button for the ground floor. “They’ll figure it out. We’re focusing on you right now.”

A short walk later, she watched with a smile as your eyes seemed to find their light again. You were approaching your favorite bakery, and you could tell even through the windows that new items had been added to the cookie section.

“Last time I was in here, I bought one that looked like the tower--” You suddenly gasped, pulling your girlfriend along with you before she could even ask what was wrong. “Look!”

Peering into the glass, she spotted her likeness in cookie form, beautifully dressed in her Black Widow suit. It was pretty flattering to see, but she couldn’t fight the cocky smirk that formed as she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“If you wanted to eat me, we could’ve just stayed home.”

[kiirokero]

Outro: Love is Not Over (5)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Oh boy, self doubt, A LOT of it. angsty, momma y/n isn’t doing too good, mentions of anxiety, allusions to worthlessness, just a lot of bad intrusive thoughts that are very degrading (and not in the smexy way)

Word Count: 1.1k

Note: I have a website that calculates my word count for stories, but it also tells me the most used word. 1.4% of this chapter is the word “Yunho” lol

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next (Coming Soon)

Tag List: @kurochan3 @mrcleanheichou @anonymous-armys-blog @alanasfashion @purelyecstacy​ Blogs highlighted in bold could not be tagged. Please message me privately so we can resolve the problem and I can tag you next time ^^

      Being an adult was exhausting. Especially the part where you pretend that you're listening when the bank teller states you should’ve cashed in your paycheck 2 days ago to get a lesser fee. Thanks Pat, I’ll think of that next time I’m working my ass off and talking care of a six-year-old, lovely advice, you are so helpful. 

     But it was enough to distract me from the underlying inferiority I felt every time I saw a dog hybrid in passing, even if it was just for a bit. I understood that the trend today was short fur and undercuts, but what if their fur was short for a bigger reason? Was it just their style or was it practical? Is long fur bad for your health? 

      These questions never left my head as I got some time to myself. I was on my way to pick up Yunho from his little daycare adventure. Hyejin texted me occasionally throughout the day, giving me updates about how Yunho was doing. Every picture she sent had a smiling golden retriever boy who looked more than okay, perfectly happy and healthy. 

      However, it pained me that seeing him sport his long fur stirred up insecurity in me. It was like a taunt. Words playing in the back of my head, telling me I was an incapable mother, that Yunho deserved better, that when he grows up and sees these pictures, he’ll resent you. 

      Like the laughter of a jester, I was calling myself stupid, unworthy. Every single thing I’ve done imperfectly played in my head like a twisted movie from hell. Look, look, look. Look how incapable you are. Look how badly you're raising your son. Look at your failures. 

    �� Even if I turned on the radio, I could still hear my subconscious toying with me. Like a fly in a tarantula’s nest. Why has one person's observation affected me so much? A couple words and my resolve suddenly came crashing down? Maybe it was the one spark that needed to set off the explosion. All the TNT, lined up from previous nights consumed by irrational thoughts, now finally igniting. “You’re failing”

Rationally, I knew that wasn’t the case. 

But it’s never that easy, is it? 

“Eomma!”

“Hi, bub!” I giggled. 

      Yunho ran into my arms, tackling me onto the hard, concrete sidewalk. But I didn’t mind. Yunho squeezes me tight, scenting me with upmost enthusiasm, his tail whipping around rapidly. “I missed you,” Yunho sighed, fisting his hands into my shirt. “I missed you too baby,” I whispered, holding him just a tad bit closer, and I meant it. 

No matter how bad I felt, I’d always be okay with him around. 

      “Did you have fun?” I asked. He nodded frantically, face painted with excitement. “Yes! I got to play with legos!” He raised his arms up, expressing just how much he loved playing with the legos. “You did? That’s awesome!” I gasped, kissing my son on the forehead. 

      I stood back up on my feet, taking Yunho in my arms to carry him back to the daycare. I still had to thank Hyejin, and no doubt was she still in the office, giving me a moment with Yunho. but to my surprise, it wasn’t Hyejin that let Yunho bolt out the door and tackle me to the ground. It was Hoseok. 

      He gave me a shy wave and smile as Yunho and I entered the front office. I gave him a genuine one back. I may be fighting with myself in my head, but it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know, so why be cold? “Hello Hoseok,” I said, and Yunho also gives him an excited wave.

     “Hello Y/n, how was your day?” He asked, but his words were still tight, still cautious. “It was okay... Thank you for watching over Yunho for me, you and Hyejin both.” Hoseok seemed to light up a bit at my words as his smile grew wider. “It’s nothing really, Yunho is an amazing kid,” I felt my heart swell at those words, Yunho was definitely an amazing kid. I must’ve done something right. Right?

      “Yeah, he is,” I teased the boy who blushed and hid his face in the crook of my neck. I cooed at his cuteness before Hoseok spoke up again. “I-I’m sorry for earlier, I really didn’t mean to upset you.” He curved into himself a bit. 

      His apology was sincere, I knew that. From what Hyejin had told me and from what I observed, Hoseok was a good guy. He didn’t know the impact his words had, besides; it was my problem anyway. Why burden someone else?

    “I’d like to take you for a coffee sometime, as an apology” Hoseok added on after I didn’t say anything for a minute or two. I chuckled, “That sounds nice, but you don’t have to. It’s okay, really,” but Hoseok shook his head, insisting that this was the way to apologize for something that obviously struck a deep nerve. 

“Alright, I give in. Do you have a date in mind?” I asked.

“Ah... I didn’t get that far... Here, I’ll give you my number so I can text you!” Hoseok exclaimed, having an eureka moment. 

“Smooth, Hoseok, very smooth.” I giggled. 

      “Wha? Oh no! I didn’t- I mean...” Hoseok stuttered on, a flush of pink on his face. “I’m joking,” I smiled. Hoseok sighed in relief, chuckling to himself. “Here you go,” Hoseok handed me his phone, and I entered my number in his contacts with one hand, expertly. People don’t mention that one of the mom powers is being able to do things one handed. 

      “I’ll text you as soon as I can,” Hoseok promised. “I’ll be waiting,” I said, forgetting all about my worries and fears for a moment. The air felt calm, my brain relaxed, it was easier to breathe. I was thankful for that, even if the moment was short. 

      Yunho looked out the car window at the trees that lined the road. He was swinging his feet back and forth. The ears on the top of his head twitched a bit every time a new song started on the radio. The sun hit his face like a Picasso painting that screamed innocence. A portrait that slipped off the canvas, given to me, even if I wasn’t deserving of such beauty. 

      “Hey bub?” I called, glancing in the rear-view mirror to look at my son. “Yea?” He answered back, looking towards me even if he couldn’t look at my face. “Are your ears and tail okay?”

“Yep!”

“Your fur doesn’t bother you?”

“Nope!”

“Are you sure? We can cut it if it’s bothering you,”

“I don’t wanna cut it!” 

      Yunho doesn’t lie. He can’t. He always gives himself away by either avoiding my gaze or mumbling to himself. But he was confident in those words. That helped. “Okay bub, I love you.”

“I love you too Eomma,”

[jabbagabba]

La La Land

Read Prologue, One

Warning ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, gaslighting (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: Spoilers (up to episode 7, just to be safe) cheesy sitcom talk, the fifties, the ‘dinner table’ scene, The nickname ‘kiddo’

Oh, Kiddo

“Uh oh.” You didn’t need to check the recipe book to know that cookies weren’t suppose to make smoke invade the inside of the oven.

“Still better then the last batch.” Wanda said, a small cough falling from her mouth as you tipped the burnt treats into a small bin under the counter.

The sight of the now empty tray made you sigh sadly, the burnt pieces of dough was going to take decades to scrub off!

“I’m sorry about the tray.” You let it drop into the sink. “I promise, as soon as mom comes back, I’ll get you a new one.”

Wanda scoffed playfully, a point of her finger making the tray levitate in front of her. “Don’t be silly, kiddo!” You watched in awe as it turned back to its shiny silver. “I have an amazing cleaner.” You both giggle.

“Well I should at least do the dishes myself.” The sight of Wanda trying to argue made you hold your hand up in silent protest “No, no. You aren’t the only one who has hands.”

“You wash, I dry?” The perfect compromise.

The kitchen fell into peaceful silence except for the bubbly soap that filled the sink. It was the perfect start of a new day (maybe not for the oven) and you couldn’t help smile at the warmth that swelled through you.

“Busy hands make the heart grow fonder” Your mother’s words echoed inside of you as you finished the final dish.

The thought didn’t stay for long before the sound of a plate breaking made you jump, turning quickly as it hit the floor.

“My wife and her flying sources.” Vision quipped as the last of the shattered plate fell off his shoulder, dressed in a respectable suit and dress shoes.

“My husband and his indestructible head.” Wanda replied with a teasing smile. The perfect couple was a sight to behold as you grabbed the glass from the air above her and placed it back in the cuboard.

“Aren’t we a fine pair?” Vision gave his a wife a small kiss on the head and turned to you with a small smile. “Good morning, Kiddo.” You greeted him, drying your hands on the skirt of your dress. “I’m starting to think you came with the house.” Wanda chuckled.

“Mom will be back soon, I promise, the house will be teenage free before you know it.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” He lets the newspaper in his hand slide across the countertop. “I’m only teasing.”

“What do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, and black coffee?” Wanda’s words made your mouth water, it felt as though you hadn’t eaten in days and a full breakfast was just what you needed.

“I say. ‘Oh, I don’t eat food.’” He smiled.

“Well, that explains the empty refrigerator.” Her words confused you. There wasn’t even the carton of milk you were sure was there earl-

“Wanda?” Vision’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, she simply hummed in question.

“Is there something special about today?”

“Well, I know the apron is a bit much, dear, but I am doing my best to blend in.” You watch as she crosses the kitchen.

“No, no, there on the calander. Someone’s drawn a little heart right above today’s date.” He lets his chin rest on her head while you move closer to see. Sure enough, there it was.

“Oh, yes.” Wanda said with tense shoulders. “The heart.” She looked over at you for some guidance, the confused look she saw didn’t help calm her nerves. “Well, don’t tell me you have forgotten, Vis.” She turned in his arms with a look of accusation and hands laid on her hips.

“Forgotten?” He scoffed. “Oh, Wanda, I’m incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That’s not an exaggeration. In fact, I’m incapable of exaggeration.”

“Well, then tell me what’s so important about today’s date.”

You had to stifle a laugh when you looked at him; mouth blown out like a fish and eyes wide, a stern look from Wanda made you cover it with a cough.

“What was the question again?” Vision turned quickly. “Oh, well. Perhaps, you’ve forgotten yourself.”

“Me? Heavens, no. I’ve been so looking forward to it.” You let Vision pass you, choosing to keep to yourself and take a sit at the table.

“As have I.” He said proudly with arms folded. “Today we are celebrating...”

Why were you so hungry?

“You bet we are...”

Why were you always, so hungry?

“It’s the first time we....have ever celebrated this occasion before.”

“It’s a.... special day!”

Something doesn’t feel right

“Perhaps an evening... of great significance...”

Can you feel her clawing?

“Kiddo?” Her voice makes you jump in your seat, letting out a small hiss from hitting your knee underneath the table. “You alright?”

“I...” Silly you, always dozing off. “I’m just peachy keen, Wanda!” A series of knocks on the door makes her pause and you’re quick to stand. “I’ll get it!”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that...” She trailed behind you, a polite smile on her face as you open the door.

You barley grab the large plant that’s shoved in your face, the woman breezing past you with her hand out.

“Hello. dear, I’m Agnes. Your neighbour to the right.” Wanda lets out a awkward laugh but takes her hand anyway. “My right, not yours.” She’s loud and very, very talkative. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.”

You pull the plant away from you with a huff. Wanda gives you an apologetic look, grabbing it from your hands, both of you watching as Agnes makes her way through.

“So, what’s your name? Where are you from, and most importantly, how’s your bridge game, hon?”

Very talkative indeed.

Wanda laughs as she crosses the room -leaving you to close the door - and sent Agnes a friendly smile.

“I’m Wanda.” She gestures to you over the woman’s shoulder. “And we call her ‘Kiddo’.”

“Easier that way.” You add as you smooth out your skirt once more, choosing to sit on the edge of the couch. Agnes turns to you with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear!” You wave her off with another friendly smile. “Wanda, Kiddo, lovely names for two lovely ladies.” You all share a small giggle.

“Golly.” Agnes’ eyes scan the room. “You settled in fast! Did you use a moving company?”

“I sure did.” You wanted nothing but to rip off that stupidly large bow off that equally obnoxious plant, but you didn’t want to be rude. “Those boxes don’t move themselves.” Agnes chuckled and you were itching to move it from the table Wanda placed it on.

“So what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house? With a daughter no less.” You and Wanda were quick to explain.

“I’m not her daughter.” You move back as her dress skirt fills your vision, looking over at Wanda. “Just visiting.”

“I’m married.” She added with a gleeful shine in her eyes.

“Oh, I don’t see a ring.”

“Well, I assure you I’m married.” She covers her hand with the other. “To a man. A human one and tall.”

Agnes was a very suffocating presence; her dress bold and checker patterned, your polka dots looked rather bland compared to it and when she took a seat next to you - practically in your lap at one point of readjusting - you had never felt so small.

“As a matter of fact, he’ll be home later tonight for a special occasion. Just the two of us.”

“Oh, is it someone’s birthday?”

“Not a birthday.”

“Well today isn’t a holiday, is it?”

Were there any holidays in March? You - like most days - were left completely blank.

“No, it’s not a holiday...” Wanda’s hands fidget, you couldn’t help but join, opting to pick at a thread on your sleeve.

Today was.... hmm, what was today? You tried to remember if Vision or Wanda spoke of anything special, but nothing really stood out from the crowd.

“An anniversary then?”

“Ye... yes!” The relief on her face was almost comical. “Yes! It’s our anniversary!” Agnes couldn’t hide her excitement, grabbing your hand mid pull of the thread and held another one for Wanda to take.

“Oh, how marvellous.” She turned forward, putting both of your hands in her lap as Wanda joined on the couch. “How many years?”

“Well, it feels like we’ve always been together.”

“Lucky gal.” Agnes shook your hand with a smile. “Isn’t it just, having such a wonderful influence like that?” Wanda blushed. “The only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer named ‘June 2nd’. “ At least she was entertaining, right? “So, what do you have planned?”

“How do you mean?”

“For your special night. A young thing like you doesn’t have to do much, but it’s still nice to set the scene.” You and Wanda shared a glance as Agnes turned once more. “Say, I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article -“ She gave you both a playful slap on the thigh as she stood. “- called ‘How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband,’ and let me tell you, what Ralph could really use is, ‘How To Goose Your Wife So You Don’t Lose Your Wife’.”

Maybe you were just a bad judge of character or you were simply just insecure, but Agnes, to her credit, had quickly found a way to pull on your hearstrings in a perfect way.

Or maybe she was just very funny.

“Hang on. I’ll go grab it and we can start planning.” She turned to you before leaving and pointed a perfectly manicured finger. “Now, I hope you don’t have plans, Kiddo! Suducing a man is a lesson no school could teach you, Though a pretty gal like you shouldn’t need a whole lot.” She laughed and you couldn’t help but feel the warm rush to your cheeks at the compliment. “Oh, this is gonna be a gas!”

With a final giggle and smile, Agnes was gone. You moved closer to Wanda as she let out a happy sigh.

“Before she comes back,” She turns to you fully. “- can I throw that horrid plant out?”

———

“-and you don’t have a song? Nothing special you played at your weddding?” Agnes asked, the magazine sitting on her lap.

“No, nothing special.” That seemed to be the go to answer for Wanda; no song, no inside joke and not even a favourite date. Maybe that was the new era of marriage?

“I’ll just loan you some records then.” Agnes said before pointing to the notepad in your hand. “Mark that off the list, Kiddo.” You nodded and did just that. “What are we up to?”

“We’ve got wardrobe, music and...” God, you had horrible handwriting. “Oh, decor!” Agnes let out a happy hum and looked back at the article.

“Hmm... oh, what about seduction techniques?”

“Oh, I have those.” The loud chuckle made Wanda frown, suddenly unsure.

Agnes was really good at that.

“Of course, you do.”

“Just out of curiosity, what does it say?” You both leaned in, the chair you were sitting on unfortunately made it impossible to see over her shoulder.

“That you should stumble when you walk into a room so he can catch you. It’s romantic.”

“Any other tricks?”

“You could point out that the death rate of single men is twice that of married men.” She suggested with a smirk.

“Now, that’s romantic.” The shared laughter is quick to die down when the phone rings. “Oh.” Agnes hands you a glass of apple cider, a small enough glass to blur the moral line of underage drinking, and raised hers with a grin.

“Drink up, dear.”

“Vision residents.” Wanda said politely over the phone, the voice of her husband making her grin. “Vision, sweetheart.” You had to stop yourself from grimacing at the bitterness of the drink, not a hint of apple was in it. Alcohol was truely disgusting.

“Don’t worry, dear. I have everything under control.” She turned towards you both with a knowing smile, debating whether or not to wrap the cord around her fingers like the giddy school girl she felt like.

Agnes took another sip and clicked her tongue. “Oh! I knew you looked familiar.” She said, adverting you attention. “You’re Lori’s girl, aren’t you?” You couldn’t explain why your stomach dropped. “Lovely woman, real smart cookie. Didn’t she want to be an actress or a.... hmm, oh....um -“

“A journalist.” The bitterness of the cider in that moment seemed like heaven, and you downed the rest in one go. Agnes giggled and nodded.

“That’s right, a journalist, very modern.” The conversation died after that, instead filled with tonight’s plan for Wanda. But even when you laughed and giggled along, deciding which record of Agnes’ to put on, that pit of dread remained.

You just wanted to know why.

———

So maybe baking wasn’t your strong suit, or even a decent hobby, but you did know how to set a mood. The candlight that filled the living room and the smell of vanilla (Agnes had enough of it to make you dizzy) was just the right amount of sweetness and romance.

“All done!” You call with a proud smile on your face. You turned as Wanda peaked her head out from the kitchen door.

“Aw, Kiddo, what would I do without you?” She had her hair curled to perfection, and makeup that made her look like a porcelain doll. She was the perfect wife and you had to admit, Agnes was right about you taking notes. “Are you sure you’ll get home okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” You grab your coat from the dining chair and give her a final smile. “Have fun.” She disappears back in the kitchen and you try to hide the knowing smirk on your face as you hear the front door. “I know, I know, I’ll be gone in two min-“

“You never told me you had kids.” A male voice, one you had never heard before, interrupted you. Your coat buttons were long forgotten as the couple strolled in; Vision looking just as horrified and confused as you.

“I... uh.”

“I didn’t know you were joining us for dinner, Kiddo.” Vision said with a nervous laugh. “Mr. Hart, this is my...”

“Cousin. Just flew in.” You can’t stop your hands from fidgeting as Vision nods.

“Yes! Yes, my cousin, Kiddo.”

“You’re name is ‘Kiddo’?” Mr. Hart is hostile, and his wife has to slap his shoulder when he glares at you.

“Oh stop it, it’s a lovely name.” She steps from behind her husband and lets out a small gasp. “Oh, how every atmospheric.” You forced a polite smile, blowing out one of the candles when she turns.

“What’s going on here, Vision? You blow a fuse?”

“Why don’t you take a seat...” You are quick to grab onto Vision’s hand and pull towards you with a smile. “And we’ll go and fetch the lady of the house.” Vision almost trips on the way to the kitchen behind you, you were a lot stronger then you looked.

“What’s going on?” This was not at all what you thought was going to happen. Maybe you had too much cider? “Where is she?” Vision didn’t wait for you to answer, already out of the kitchen before you could even think of a answer. “Wanda!” She was only there a moment ago.

“Vision.” Her smile fades to horror and she’s quick to move her hands away from Mr. Hart. “Oh! Oh!” She looks back and fourth from Vision and the Harts. When she caught glimpse of you, she nearly fainted, covering her chest as her cheeks bloomed a bright red.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Well, what is... yeah, what is the meaning of...” His stammering wasn’t helping, at all, to calm anyone’s confusion. “Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it.... and the meaning of it is that this is the traditional Sokovian greeting of hospitality.” Wanda nodded, quickly making her way over as Vision covered her eyes. “Guess who?”

“Is that my host behind me?” She faked a laugh and you chose to find interest in your shoes.

“It certainly is.”

“Lovely to make you acquaintance.”

“Yes!” You wished the floor would suck you down to a hole in the ground, the awkwardness almost suffocating. “See, I forgot to tell you my wife is from Europe.” You look up with a grin as Vision put a hand on your shoulder. “And... so is my cousin.”

“Oh, how exotic!” Mrs. Hart said with a grin of her own, how on earth did they buy that?

“We don’t break bread with Bolsheviks.” Her husband grumbled.

“Oh, hush, Arthur!” She slapped his chest playfully with a chuckle. “Have you no culture at all ? And that dress!”

“Yes! It’s... “ Vision can’t help but take a double take at his wife’s appearance. “It’s so... Sokovian, Is what it is! Yes!”

“Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?” Wanda was light and fast on her feet, making sure to pull the fabric from a lamp before going to the kitchen.

“Oh, Yes!” Vision gestures to the candles and follows his wife.

You turn to the couple, with the brightest smile you can muster.

“Please.” You say with arms wide. “Take a seat, make yourselves comfortable.” The minute they reach the couch and sit, you get to work on the candles. You only get five done before Vision barrels through the door.

“Can you help Wanda? She’s just... “ Mrs. Hart glances over her shoulder with an eyebrow raised. “- finishing dinner.”

You are quick to excuse yourself.

———

“Oh, where is she?” Wanda tightens her apron for the third time, eyes glued to the door. She had changed from the silk, now wearing a modest evening dress.

“Oh, thank heavens!” Agnes had barley even walked past the window and Wanda, wasting no time, opened the back door wide. “Oh, Agnes! You’re a life-saver.”

“What kind of housewife would I be if I didn’t have a gourmet meal for five just lying about the place?” Both you and Wanda grab for the various tins and trays, trying to save the poor woman’s arms. “Not that Ralph ever wants to eat anything but baked beans which explains a lot about his personal hygiene, mind you.”

“I can take that.” You weren’t expecting her to drop the large pot so carelessly, not being able to catch it in time as it hit your foot with loud bang on the floor. “Ow.”

“Oh, my!” Agnes dropped to her knees, wiping off your shoe and picking up the pot and lid. “Butter fingers.” You chuckle and wave it off.

“It’s okay.” She gives you a bright smile and placing everything properly on the bench.

“- sure she’s absolutely fine in there!” The sound of Vision’s voice booms through the kitchen, a warning that made you both flustered.

“Oh, thank you, Agnes. I think we’ve got it covered from here.” Wanda said, placing her hands on the woman’s back and pushing gently.

“Are you sure dear?” Agnes asked, getting a small “mhmm” back from her. “Many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip.”

“You’re so naughty.” Wanda scolds playfully, you were kept busy with unpacking several vegetables from her wicker basket.

“Oh, shall I pre-heat the oven then, dear?” The witch was quick to steer her around from it as you moved out of the way.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Oh, alright then. Well I know you’re in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap.” Agnes made sure to snap her fingers, always one for the theatrics. “Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start.” She moved back towards the counter, Wanda letting out a breath as she followed. “Chicken à la king with twice-cooked new potatos for your second course.” She gave you a pat as she passed you. “And steak Diane and mint jellies for your main.”

Wanda had to move back as Agnes turned once more, finger inches from her face. “Do you set you own jellies, dear?” You both nod. “Good girls.” Wanda grabs her waist again and pushed but as she inches from the outside, she calls out to you. “Recipe cards are on the counter.”

Wanda closes the door, hands up as you read one of the cards.

“So, I guess we should start with-“

“No time, Kiddo.” With a flick of her wrist; every cuboard opened and you had to duck your head down to advoid getting hit with a frying pan. “Sorry.”

The kitchen quickly was in complete chaos; the smell of various veggies and seasonings overwhelmed your senses, and while you tried desperately to grab a wooden spoon from the air to stir, the kitchen bar devider opened.

Yeah, take out the papers and the trash, or you won’t get no spending cash

You and Wanda both watched in a mix of confusion and fear, apparently Vision could sing. You reached up on your toes once more and pulled the spoon down with a satisfied grin.

If You don’t scrub the kitchen floor, you ain’t gonna rock and roll no more

Oh, right. Mrs. Hart was inches away from a stressed out witch and her teenage sidekick surrounding by levitating kitchen supplies.

Time to close the shutters.

Yakety yak! Don’t talk back

You closed them with a sharp slam.

———

The past ten minutes had to be on the list of “worst moments ever” of your life, the world felt a little too off center and you had to remind yourself that breathing wasn’t just a personal choice. Wanda wasn’t doing too great either; the chicken went from borderline ash to newly laid eggs, it was starting to feel a little too warm in here. If you weren’t panicking so much, you might have remembered that the large coat you wore that had wool lining was easily removable.

“How’s the potatos, Kiddo?” Wanda turned to you with a frown at your apparence; you were covered in flour and unmoving from the corner, bowl in hand and eyes shinny.

“Am I moving?” You ask.

“No.” She gently grabs the bowl from your hands, grimacing at the mush inside and pulling you to the table. “Why don’t you have a seat? Hmm, take a few deep breaths and just re- oh no!” It was too late to save the cream from spilling on the floor.

Wanda almost wanted to join you at the table.

“Oh, what was I supposed to do next? What was the main course again?” She let the cards float around her, hands quickly turning them.”it was... steak.” Wrong card. “No. Steak...steak Diane!”

“Yes?!” You manage to look over at the closed blinds, Vision’s voice following again soon after. “I’m just coming... Fred.”

Wanda - after taking her own advice - had finally managed to put the kitchen back in order, all pots and pans back perfectly in their cupboards. You were finally calming down, able take a minute to process as she floated the lobster to the pot of boiling water.

But both of you felt the familiar panic burn through your veins when someone came rushing in from the living room, Wanda letting out a startled gasp and throwing the meat out the window. It was only after the window slammed shut that you realised it was just Vision.

“How can I be of assistance?” He asked with huff. Funny, you wouldn’t think a robot would need to take a breather.

“Well, the chicken is no longer a chicken and the lobsters just flew the coop so the steak is the last man standing.” Wanda replied, grabbing the recipe card from the counter. “It says here I can cut down the prep time with a meat tenderizer.”

“Excellent plan. Where’s the tenderizer?”

“I’m looking at him.” He gingerly took the mallet with a small “ah” and was forced to look up when the divider opened once more.

“Hoo-hoo in there!” Mrs. Hart’s head popped in and Wanda was quick to move, almost ruining the poor woman’s curls when she closed it.

“Hoo-hoo back to you!” She pulls at the strings of her apron with a sigh. “Finish the meat, find the lobsters.” She turned to you. “Lose the coat, Kiddo.” Her apron is pulled from her hips and Vision barley catches it. “We’ll be right back.”

You stand, pulling off the emerald green coat. One look at your dress and Wanda lets out a gasp.

“Can’t go out like that.” She grabbed the coat from you and folded it on your chair, the dress was covered and she had hoped that the coat would have been an effective shield.

“I can go home and change.” You say with a wipe of your cheek. Wanda stops you from moving.

“No, allow me.” She clicks her fingers and - with a dramatic puff of smoke - your old dress is replaced with a beautiful turquoise one, white lining on the collar and floral skirt to match. It was gorgeous. “Perfection. Now, lets go.”

You give a quick “sorry” at the door, startling Mrs. Hart as you trail behind your frazzled friend.

“I hope you’re hungry.” She said with a smile.

“Starved, is more like it.” Mr. Hart replied as he pushed off the couch, a frown permanently placed on his face.

“My head is starting to feel woozy.” A low growl from your stomach seemed to agree with Mrs. Hart, luckily a loud bang from the kitchen covered the sound.

“Were either of you aware that married men are killing single men at an alarming rate?” Wanda’s hands never stopped moving, and the nervous chuckle only made Mr. Hart more frustrated.

“What are you going on about?” Another loud bang made you all jump and you had to stop yourself from cursing. “And what’s going on in there?” You luckily didn’t have to stop him from moving as Wanda fell ontop of him, his hands catching her by the arms.

The room seemed to spin, things were moving so quickly you could barley keep up. Wanda was still in the man’s arms when a loud knocking filled the room, you were sure you were going to faint.

“Who could that be?” Wanda practically ran to the door, happy for the distraction and Vision was quick on her heels. Mrs. Hart pulled at your sleeve, a kind smile on her face.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“I... uh,” The words got lost in your mouth. Could everyone just calm down for a second? The slam of the door forced you both out of the small moment.

“Who was that?” Her husband asked.

“A salesman”

“Telegram!” Vision felt the glare of Mr. Hart. “A man selling telegrams.”

“Wouldn’t you know it.” Wanda added, hands behind her back. “Good news is more expensive.” You couldn’t hear what Vision said after that, but by the way his wife frowned and pulled her apron off him, it must’ve been yet another problem. She glided past you, the sight of a pineapple behind her back didn’t answer any questions, but you let her go on her way regardless.

“Well.” Vision said, hands on his hips proudly. “I think tonight’s going swimmingly. Anyone for Parcheesi?”

“My head is spinning.” Mrs. Hart replied, feet dragging her to the couch.

“Oh, Mrs. Hart -“ You grabbed her arm, gently helping her down as Vision fanned her face.

“Did you hear that? My wife’s head is spinning. Generally speaking, I don’t like her head to do that.” You could feel the annoyance radiating off him. “You know, I’m beginning to think you’re not management material, Vision.”

“Sir, if you could just wait a few -“ The glare he gave almost made your knees buckle, looking at Vision for help as he continued.

“You know, I had high hopes for you. But from what I’ve seen here tonight, you can barley keep it together. I mean, look around.” He gestured around him with his hands. “There’s all the chaos going on in your household. Now, when are we gonna eat?”

“Dinner is served.”

Oh, thank God.

The table behind you was set to perfection; each plate the perfect distance apart, and each with a set of cutlery and wine glass. You’re stomach was growling and you were quick to move to your seat - the only glass filled with some kind of juice - and gave Wanda a grateful smile.

“Breakfast for dinner? How very-“

“European.” Mrs. Hart interrupted, eyes glued to the table.

“Ohh! Let’s have a toast!” Vision moves to his end of the table, the Harts following as you raise your glass. “To my lovely and talented wife.”

“To our esteemed guests.” Wanda adds with a smile. You all clink your glasses with a small “cheers” and take a sip of the juice. It was sugary sweet, but did nothing to fill your belly. “Well, please eat before it gets cold.”

You don’t have to be told twice; sitting besides Mrs. Hart - who Vision was quick to offer a chair to like a gentleman - and letting your napkin rest on your thighs.

“So,” She said as everyone settled properly in their seats. “Where did you two move from?” She grabbed her napkin. “What brought you here?” You cut a small piece of the sausage and raised it to your mouth. “How long have you been married? And why don’t you have children yet?” Wanda let out a small laugh, so many questions!

“I think what my wife means to say is that we moved from...” You took another bite, warmth filling your body, and it took everything in to not gulp down the whole plate.

“Yes, we moved from...” Wanda’s face was a exact mirror of her husband’s, both struggling with empty memory.

“And we were married...”

You couldn’t stop eating, fork always full of egg and toast, the conversation becoming background noise.

“Yes, yes, we were married in...”

“Well? Moved from where ? Married when?” Mr. Hart’s voice snapped you back, another bite and you swallowed it down with a gulp of juice, eyes now between each end of the table.

“Now, patience, Arthur. They’re setting up their story. Let them tell it.” His wife waved him off with a smile and bite of food. Wanda stumbled once more, her fumbling only causing the tension to rise.

“Yes, what exactly is your story?”

“Oh, just leave the poor kids alone.” You took another sip, gagging as you felt something on your tongue.

“No, really, I mean,” It was slimy and thin, and as you pulled it out with your fingers, confusion filled you at the sight of a brown leaf. “I think it’s a perfectly simple question. Honestly.” It dropped to your plate and you picked up the almost empty glass, the bottom was a dark orange, and the hundreds of little pieces floating in it made you feel sick. “Why did you come here? Why?”

Something’s Wrong

Mr. Hart slammed his hand down on the table, startling you to the point of completey dropping your glass, juice staining the carpet by your feet. You were left helpless as you stared at the man in front of you.

“Damn it, why? Why did you...” The air from his lungs vanishes, face turning red as he chokes.

“Oh, Arthur, stop it.”

Why won’t you move?

“Stop it.”

This doesn’t make sense

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

Mr. Hart grips the table, letting out another failed attempt of breath before vanishing under it, still chocking.

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

This is wrong, all wrong

“Stop it.”

I want to go home

“Vision, help him.”

And just like that, the world makes sense again.

You let out a shaky laugh as Vision helps the man up from the floor. You take one more bite of food as Mr. Hart checks his watch with a sigh.

“Well, would you look at the time?”

“Yes. We’d better be going.” Mrs. Hart replies, standing as you follow suit, making sure to tuck your chair in.

“Well... are you both alright?” Wanda asks, giving you a small smile as they walk to the door.

“We had such a lovely time.” She turns quickly and wraps her hands around Wanda’s eyes. “This guest is leaving your home.” She laughs.

“Yes, thank you for coming.”

You pay them no mind; body moving passed them on autopilot, you didn’t care to hear them say goodbye, didn’t care when Mr. Hart told Vision about a promotion, or when Wanda offered you the guest bedroom since it was just “too late to walk home alone, you didn’t care.

And when you finally slipped into the covers, eyes shutting as sleep took hold of you, you finally felt at peace.

Your mind was yours, and yours alone for the first time that day, and you wanted nothing more then to wake up under the star-lights in your bedroom.

Tag list (open, just ask)

@white-wolf-buckaroo @y-napotat @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @fruitiseavey

All my stuff is open, and I’m always happy to hear from people so feel free to let me know what ya thought. I always get stuck halfway through writing but I hope it wasn’t too hard to read

Off to the sixties we go

[bunnieresources]

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind writing prompts.

“ i’m not an impulsive person. i guess i just woke up in a funk this morning. “

“ if only i could meet someone new. i guess my chances of that happening are diminished, seeing that i’m incapable of making eye-contact with a person i don’t know. “

“ why do i fall in love with every person i see who shows me the least bit of attention? “

“ do i know you? “

“ i’m a vindictive little bitch, truth be told. “

“ you’re not a stalker or anything, right? “

“ that is the oldest trick in the stalker book. “

“ look, i’m sorry if i came off sorta nutso. i’m not, really. “

“ you’re kinda close-mouthed, aren’t you? “

“ i mean, i’m always anxious that i’m not living my life to the fullest, taking advantage of every possibility, making sure i’m not wasting one second of the little time i have. “

“ i’m gonna marry you. i know it. “

“ i want it to be resolved. i’m willing to be the one to resolve it. “

“ what’s your fucking suggestion, ____? what’s your brilliant, reasoned solution? “

“ you’re gonna make this about my shit now? this isn’t about me. “

“ i kinda, sorta wrecked your car. “

“ it’s just a fucking dent, ____. you’re like an old lady or something. “

“ admit it, ____. you’re freaked out because i was out late without you, and in your wormy, little brain... you’re trying to figure out, did i fuck someone tonight? “

“ i assume you did fuck someone tonight. isn’t that how you get people to like you? “

“ by morning, you’ll be gone! the perfect ending to this piece-of-shit story! “

“ i’m fucking crawling out of my skin. should’ve left you at the flea-market. “

“ i’d make a fucking good mother! i love children, i’m creative and smart, and i’d make a fucking great mother! “

“ it’s you, ____. it’s you who can’t commit to anything! “

“ you don’t tell me things, ____. i’m an open book. i tell you everything. every damn embarrassing thing. you don’t trust me. “

“ constantly talking isn’t necessarily communicating. “

“ people have to share things, ____. that’s what intimacy is. “

“ are we like those poor couples you feel sorry for in restaurants? “

“ i’m lost, i’m scared, i feel like i’m disappearing. “

“ sometimes i think people don’t understand how lonely it is to be a kid. like you don’t matter. “

“ i could die right now, ____. i’m just... happy. i’ve never felt that before. i’m just exactly... where i wanna be. “

“ you know me. i’m impulsive. “

“ ____, there’s nothing wrong with you. you’re the most wonderful person i’ve ever met. “

“ it’s gonna be fun. come on. it’s the best place! “

“ i’ve loved you for a very long time. “

“ i’m a stupid person with a stupid crush! “

“ don’t be a monster, ____. “

“ didn’t figure you’d show your face around me again. “

“ if you wanna be with me, you’re with me. “

“ too many guys think i’m a concept, or i complete them, or i’m gonna make them alive. but i’m just a fucked-up person who's looking for my own peace of mind. “

“ i still thought you were gonna save my life, even after that. “

“ it would be different... if we could just give it another go around. “

“ remember me. try your best. “

“ thank god. someone normal who doesn’t know how to interact at these things either. “

“ it was so intimate, like we were already lovers. “

“ this is it, ____. it’s gonna be gone soon. “

“ i thought maybe you were a nut, but you were exciting. “

“ i wish i’d stayed too. now i wish i’d stayed. “

“ come back and make up a good-bye, at least. let’s pretend we had one. “

“ tell me what you want me to do, and i’ll do it. “

“ i had the best fucking night of my entire fucking life last night! “

“ we’ve met, but you don’t remember me. “

“ i can’t see anything that i don’t like about you. “

“ you will think of things, and i’ll get bored of you and feel trapped... because that’s what happens with me. “

[aurathian]

Did you hear the Goddess?

Probably my best submission for @zelinkweek2021 . The prompt is Trust: Broken & Forged.

Read it here on AO3!

When Princess Zelda was little, her mother took her to visit one of the three springs scattered throughout Hyrule. With some guards at their sides, they ventured into the autumnal region of Akkala and into its quarries etched into the valley where the Spring of Power laid. Clinging to her mother’s arm, the pair waded into the pool before the statue of the Goddess Hylia, and together they prayed. The young princess didn’t understand what was going on, so she prayed how she usually did every night, asking for world peace and to end hunger. It felt no different than kneeling at her bedside with the moon shining on her face, except the freezing waters that stung her knees.

After what seemed like an eternity to Zelda, her mother tapped her shoulder and asked, “Did you hear the Goddess?”

She shook her head.

A frown colored her mother’s lips. The princess had never seen her look so disappointed before.

After some months, during which her mother and father set her about praying anytime she could, she made the journey to the Temple of Time to pray at the statue there. The queen accompanied her again and prayed at her side as usual. Like last time, the little princess clasped her hands together as tight as she could, screwed her eyes shut, and prayed for world peace and to end hunger.

Her mother asked the same question as last time. “Did you hear the Goddess?”

And Zelda shook her head, watched her mother’s mouth curl into a frown and shake her head.

“Are you mad?” Zelda asked. At only four years old, she couldn’t tell if her mother was angry or sad. Maybe both, she thought.

The queen inhaled and exhaled slowly before opening her eyes, bearing a much more gentle gaze. “No. I’m not.”

The third time they prayed together was right before her mother died, and they did it at the small statue in an empty alley in Gerudo Town. Princess Zelda was six now, and had spent the past two years training hard and praying during the day, and sometimes she had dreams where she prayed, too. They knelt before the statue and prayed, and she wished once again for world peace and to end hunger, but this time she asked for a little more.

“If it’s not too selfish of me, Miss Goddess Hylia,” Zelda thought, “please make my mother happy.”

Her mother asked her the same question again after some hours of praying in the heat. “Did you hear the Goddess?”

Sadly, Zelda shook her head. She couldn’t bear to look at her mother’s face, but she assumed it was wrought with sadness and disappointment.

Despite the faith drilled into Zelda since birth, she wondered if Hylia was even real.

Zelda’s mother died two months later.

Some days after the funeral and period of mourning in which Zelda shut herself in her room and hardly ate, her father told her the real reason for all the praying, the real reason why her mother never seemed satisfied after they knelt and prayed together.

“Hyrule is facing impending doom,” he told her, “and only you can stop it. You must pray to the Goddess Hylia and awaken your sacred powers.”

The training became worse. Every second she wasn’t eating or sleeping, she was praying—in her room, in the gardens, in the chapel, everywhere. Every time she failed to hear the Goddess, her father would scold her.

“Did you hear the Goddess?” he’d ask.

“No,” she’d reply.

“You must train harder.”

Hyrule Castle became cold.

When Zelda turned twelve, she developed an obsession with Sheikah technology, and thanks to her connections through her close friend and advisor Impa, she got her hands on too many trinkets to count. In the time she wasn’t praying, she was researching, reading any text she could get her small hands on and visiting whatever ancient sites she could.

Around that same time, she heard rumors of a boy who pulled the legendary Master Sword, a blade said to seal darkness. Apparently, he could best even adults in combat.

Hyrule was proud of him.

Yet, when Princess Zelda worked just as hard, she was called useless. Incapable. Unreliable. All because the Goddess above refused to speak to her.

Then, at the age of sixteen, the legendary Master Sword wielder was appointed her bodyguard, and he was perfect. Silent, stoic, he was better than her in the way he carried himself and fulfilled his duties expertly.

“Stop following me!” she’d yelled at him once after sneaking away from the castle to investigate a dormant shrine. It refused to open to her, even with the Sheikah Slate in her hands, a powerful yet small piece of ancient technology. He did not stop following her. He completed his duty, as always.

Princess Zelda hated him. Link was too good for her, and it showed in the way he never spoke and the way his eyes always looked dead when he would glance at her. He was everything she wasn’t, and she despised him for it.

Until he saved her life.

The blades of the Yiga had almost claimed her on a hot evening in the desert as the sun was setting. They chased her over the dunes until she fell over and they positioned themselves to kill, but almost as if ordained by the Goddesses, he appeared and drove them off.

Once again, he fulfilled his duty, but it felt like something more.

The next day, she apologized to him for how she’d treated him.

He did so much for her, she realized; he ate a frog, he accompanied her on unapproved expeditions, he’d indulged her feelings.

It was raining on the day they took shelter on the Hills of Baumer along Hylia River. He, the ever dedicated knight, practiced his swordsmanship while she watched wistfully, and she asked him:

“What if, one day, you realized that you just weren’t meant to be a fighter? Yet the only thing people ever said was that you were born into a family of the royal guard, and so no matter what you thought, you had to become a knight.” His stony gaze was trained on her now. “If that was the only thing that you were ever told, I wonder, then, would you have chosen a different path?”

His lips moved in the rain.

“Yes,” he said. It was the first time he spoke to her.

“Really?” she sighed. “Me, too.”

More time passed. She came to learn that Link was a glutton and that he lost all sense of manners when food was placed before him. She discovered he was not perfect. He was not the flawless hero Hyrule made him about to be.

Princess Zelda was sent to the Spring of Power to pray again, after over ten years of avoiding that spring. She waded into its waters, higher now, and instead of stinging her knees it stung her waist. She clasped her hands again and looked up to the statue illuminated by the moonlight. The Goddess Hylia never changed. She wore the same small, deceitful smile and her hands lay rested over her chest. Link stayed behind at the entrance to stand guard.

This time, when Zelda prayed, she asked for the power inside her to be awoken.

“Mother said her own powers would develop in me,” Zelda said. She could hear the voice of the deceased queen in her head, asking if she heard the goddess, and it repeated over and over like a mantra. “But I don’t hear… or feel anything!” She slammed her fists in the water. No longer was it praying; it was begging. “Curse you. I’ve spent every day of my life dedicated to praying! I’ve pleaded to the spirits tied to the ancient gods, and still the holy powers have proven deaf to my devotion.”

She clutched herself, freezing from the holy waters. “Please just tell me… what is it? What’s wrong with me?”

She fainted, and still, no Goddess spoke to her.

When she came to, she was cradled in something warm and inviting, muscular and strong. Her vision cleared, and she saw the face of her personal knight staring down at her as he pulled a blanket over her freezing body.

He asked her, “Did you hear the Goddess?”

“No,” she whispered, and stared at his lips, waiting for them to turn downward.

“It’s okay,” he told her, pulling her closer to his warm chest.

And, for the first time in her sixteen years of life, she knew it would be okay. Everything would be okay, because she trusted him. In a world where she couldn’t trust the deities she’d been told to revere all her life, she found someone else to pray to.

Link, wielder of the sword that seals the darkness.

[forwantofamohawk]

Selfishness, Selflessness and Reciprocity

Or: An essay on why I think that Coderra has more potential as a relationship than people give it credit for.

As a foreword, I would like to say that this applies equally to romantic and platonic Coderra. Many of the building blocks for a romance are the same as those for a lifelong friendship. All I want, at the end of the day, is for Sierra to be happy. 

Now you could alternatively call this essay “Cody’s tendencies in relationships and how that changes in Planes Trains and Hot Airmobiles” because the first item of focus here is his relationship with Gwen, and how and why it fundamentally doesn’t work. While Gwody is generally not well-liked as a relationship due to his creepy, entitled and stereotypical “nice guy” behavior, those aren’t the reasons why it doesn’t work. They’re effluences of the real core problem with his Cody’s behavior and that mentality, and I’m going to call it out right out of the gate: Cody is selfish. 

For him, it’s never about what Gwen wants or who Gwen is as a person that matters. She is an object to be attained, an ideal girlfriend that will make him cool by being with him. His first notable interaction with her is making a pass at her during the talent show- he more or less thinks he can “get” her with a bit of flirting, without putting in the legwork of actually getting to know her. Compare this with Trent’s first major interaction with Gwen in The Big Sleep as a counterpoint. Watching this scene, what strikes me the most about how Trent conducts himself here is that there is no flirtatious undertones to his approach, no overt, eye-wagging, shit-eating-grin “hey babe, you’re so cool and I’m totally into that”. No, he just talks to her. Talks to her about whatever she wants to talk about, lets the conversation naturally go where it goes, and it gets her to open up, if only just a little. Cody, on the other hand, never does this with Gwen, he never understands this, and every interaction he has with her until Up the Creek, and then resuming in World Tour, is about trying to obtain her as an item.

In World Tour, his selfishness and desire to have Gwen reach new levels and really show how little he actually cares about her as a person. During the episode in Australia, Gwen acts hurt because Duncan is acting jealous of Alejandro “hooking up” with Courtney. Cody’s first instinct is to offer her his vote, but with the implicit subtext this game alliance is a means for him to hook up with her. Gwen is not actually hurt here, she’s playing him for a vote, but he doesn’t know that, he thinks Duncan has actually hurt her. She says to him “ Can you make the pain go away?” and he nods and tells her he’s there for her and that he’ll make everything better.

This is Cody at his absolute lowest. Here he is seeing someone he thinks is heartbroken and vulnerable and all his first reaction is to manipulate it to get into a relationship with her. 

Now this may all sound very anti-Cody, and I certainly don’t apologize for or condone this behavior. But I also now move on to my next point, which is that it is a learned behavior which makes sense in the context of his upbringing, and that he has the capacity to change this behavior.

A bad childhood does not excuse bad behaviors as an adult, or even a young adult like Cody, but it does provide a level of understanding how and why he does the things he does. There is a substantial body of canonical evidence that Cody is a neglected child, manifested most famously and notably in the show by the revelation that his parents (nor anyone else for that matter) never once remembered his birthday in Awwwww Drumheller. Interestingly it seems the Dramarama spinoff has taken this idea up as well, with Cody having said “It feels like a mother’s warmth, or least, so I’ve been told” which in context seems meant to indicate that Cody is unfamiliar with motherly affection. But what he lacks in parental attention is made up for in material wealth- his TDI bio speaks of a plethora of the latest tech and gadgets paid for on his parents dime. This is where the root of his selfishness in dealing with Gwen comes from- having never received love in his life, only things, he can only conceive of a relationship as a thing to be had, not love to be shared between people. Because the latter concept is utterly alien to him. But it’s alien to him because this mentality is learned, taught by years of neglect and being spoiled. And what can be learned, can be unlearned.  

Enter Planes, Trains and Hot Air Mobiles. It is all good and well to argue that Cody is the way he is because he is a victim of parental apathy and absence, but unless this amounts to meaningful change in his behavior, it is meaningless. Here we see that Cody in fact has the capacity to change and to be better than he was, and it’s in his relationship with Sierra that we first see this.

The Total Drama Jumbo jet has been demolished to smithereens, and at the epicenter of the destruction was Sierra. The episode begins with her eliminated, incapable of walking, buried under rubble and with most of those still present utterly uninterested in her plight. Cody, Alejandro and Heather are tasked with racing to Hawaii by whatever means they can find, but Sierra is left with no provisions for her return home. Let’s be clear here- Cody is supposed to get to Hawaii, not Sierra. 

At this point in the game he’s only barely started warming up to her the last episode, and otherwise has rebutted her at every turn since the game began. She cannot move on her own, no matter what means he uses to travel she’s dead weight. With his chosen method of travel, the balloon, Cody can get farther and go faster if he goes alone. He has every logical reason in the world to be selfish here, from a competition standpoint. 

And yet he doesn’t. He takes her with him, an act that I would argue is his first truly selfless act in any of his canon relationships with anyone. He gains nothing by bringing her along, or at least, nothing that is immediately apparent when they set off. He risks his victory in the competition to ensure she has someone to take care of and look after her. He prioritizes her needs and the urgency of her situation over his wants, and even his personal feelings for her at this moment- despite everything she has done to him that has made him feel violated and uncomfortable, by taking her with him he has forgiven her, and without words said that her life and wellbeing are worth more to him than his own feelings about their past. This does not absolve Sierra of responsibility for these acts, but Cody’s forgiveness is an important step in giving her the opportunity to atone for them. It is a profoundly mature moment for Cody, the most mature he has ever been in the entire series since Up the Creek. 

Later on in the episode, something incredible happens. Something called reciprocity- an exchange of mutual benefit to all parties involved. And it’s when their hot air balloon has crashed and they are stranded in the middle of nowhere somewhere in North America, with no apparent means to continue the race. Along with a box of fireworks, Sierra motivates Cody with a rousing speech, and importantly tells him that “You want a number one fan? That comes with responsibilities!”

This is a first for Sierra, in that she is demanding something out of Cody’s side of the relationship. For all the time she has been on the show with him, she has taken care of him with no regard for getting anything out of it in return. She has saved his life at risk to herself numerous times, and while she exacted a toll in physical affection she had never previously called upon Cody to do anything for her, personally. Here that changes.

She demands that he continue the race not for his sake, but for hers, and for all the fans she represents. This transforms the act of continuing the race from a selfish one for Cody, into a selfless one, as he is no longer doing it out of self-interest, but to fulfill his obligation to his relationship with Sierra. And for the second time in the episode, Cody shows the ability to be selfless and consider the needs and wants of others. He is not a fundamentally self-centered person at heart, and his bad habits can be unlearned in the right circumstance with the right people. 

It is this relationship that carries a feeble weakling and a crippled girl to the finale against all odds. It brings out the best in both of them and takes two people who on their own would have zero chance for success, and allows them to lift each other up and help each other move forward. This is the potential of Coderra, as a romance or a lifelong friendship. It’s only two, maybe three episodes where we see a glimpse of it, but I think that together they can be a little less broken and start to defeat their worst demons. 

[thenovelartist]

Burned Beginnings, Chapter 8

<<Previous  Next>>  

22. Anniversary

“Happy three month, one week, and four day anniversary!”

Marinette snorted, hanging her head instead of looking up to see him. “We are not doing that, are we?”

“Yup!” Adrien said, beaming.

With a sigh, Marinette looked back up at him, an accepting smile on her face. “And why, pray tell, are we celebrating this specific anniversary?”

Adrien gave his best pout. “Because it’s been almost three weeks since we’ve been able to have a date and I miss you.” The bakery had been busy the last couple weeks, packed with longer lines than normal and more special orders. Sadly, this meant he hadn’t been able to spend time with Marinette, and their attempt last week to get together ended up with them falling asleep in the middle of Fruits Basket.

Which attested to just how tired they were, because that was really hard to do in the middle of season three!

He supposed a nap date where she’d laid huddled against his chest while he snuggled her wasn’t a bad thing. On the contrary, it had been one of the best naps he’d ever had. But still, it wasn’t quite what he’d label as a date.

“Has it been that long?” Marinette questioned, her brow furrowed. “I feel like the days have all blended together lately.”

“Yeah. Our last official date was when we went out for breakfast and then around the park before coming back and working that first chaotic night shift.”

“Oh yeah,” Marinette said, eyes brightening in realization. “I totally forgot about that.”

“How could you forget me?” Adrien pouted.

“Easily,” Marinette sassed back with a wink.

He theatrically grasped at his chest above his heart. “Ouch, ice princess. You put Elsa to shame.”

She leveled a flat look at him.

“Oh? Does the princess wish I’d let it—”

“You’ve been banned. Good bye.”

“Wait, wait,” he cried, quickly catching the door before she could slam it in his face. “Come on, that was funny.”

“That joke is already dead. Don’t continue to beat the dead horse.”

“But it’s still relevant.”

“No. No, it’s not.”

He pouted, shooting her with his best pair of puppy dog eyes he could manage.

“I don’t care how cute you are.”

“Ouch,” he said, smile growing. “That was a cold one, princess.”

“Yeah, and don’t you forget it,” she said with a smirk.

“I won’t,” he assured. “Now, may the lovely royal princess of the bakery deign me worthy of entry into her humble abode?”

“You are such a dork.”

“Your dork.”

“My amusing peon.”

“Ouch!”

Giggling, she opened the door, letting him in.

Adrien happily walked in to the house that had become his second home. “So, for our anniversary, you want to go grab an ice cream on this nice day?”

Marinette frowned. “Actually, I’m really not up for going anywhere.”

“Oh? Are you not feeling we—”

He stopped, his eye catching the plastic Marinette had wrapped around her left arm. More accurately, catching sight of what was underneath the plastic.

She grinned, looking down at what looked like a fresh tattoo. “Yeah. Guess you could say that, but supposedly, that’s pretty typical.”

“Yeah, it is,” Adrien said, walking over to her so that he could examine the design better. “Mine hurt for days.”

“You have a large cat that wraps around your entire forearm. I don’t have anything that big.”

It wasn’t too big, but it was pretty. A few ladybugs sitting on some swirly flowers, a design that took up half of her inner forearm. The design was only about a quarter the size of his, but it felt very similar design-wise, each having an animal in a colorful, misty background that he believed was referred to as a watercolor affect. Hers was just pink compared to his green.

“It looks great,” he eventually said. “And really suits you.”

She grinned. “Thanks. And now, we match.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, look.” With that, Marinette bounced over to his right side, same side he had his tattoo on, before sliding her left hand into his right. “See? You’re the bad luck cat, and I’m the good luck ladybug. We match.”

Adrien stared at their conjoined hands, his eyes slowly drifting up to where his tattoo and hers met. “You got a tattoo… to match me?”

Marinette grinned. “Maybe it’s a little early for ‘matching couple tattoos, but I thought ‘why not?’ I’ve always liked your cat tattoo, so I planned out what I wanted to get so that we could match. I got yesterday after work, and since it’s the beginning of my ‘weekend’, I have time to just relax and let it heal.”

Adrien stared at it, his grin widening. “It suits you.”

“Thank you.”

“You know what this means, though, right?”

Marinette cocked her head. “What does it mean?”

“It means…” he drew out, leaning closer to her with a grin on his face. “You’re stuck with me forever, now that we have a couple tattoo.”

With a grin of her own, she leaned in closer, her nose just a centimeter from his. “Not until I get a ring.”

Without any hesitation, Adrien reached into his pocket. This was just intended to be a gift that he saw that made him think of her. One he impulsively bought one day going home from work. The tag said it was for the right hand.

But at the moment, he could think of no better place to put it than sliding it on her left ring finger right then and there.

“There you go. You’re mine now.”

Marinette froze, staring at the ring for a moment before chuckling awkwardly at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

Adrien knew why she felt so awkward. He did to. It had taken too long to realize for his head to catch up to his actions, and when it did, he himself had froze.

What did he just do?

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to marry her. On the contrary, he had actually already talked with her parents, gotten a blessing from her father, her ring size from her mother, and had ordered a ring last night. He’d planned out just how he was going to propose to her. It was going to be during a perfect date with dinner and candles and a chance to let her dress up. Basically, the whole shebang.

And here he was, proposing with an inexpensive cat ring.

Actually, he realized he hadn’t proposed at all. He’d just stuck the ring on her finger and called it good.

He had to fix this. He had to get his mouth to formulate words first.

“I… I mean…”

Great, his face was red, Marinette was waiting for a well-deserved answer, and he was incapable of giving it to her.

“Adrien, you are not serious.” Her words came out flatly, but Adrien knew her well enough to hear the undertone of panic in them

“Um…” he fought hard for the words that came to him next. “About marrying you? Yes. Absolutely. Without a doubt, I’d chase you to the ends of the earth to make you mine. About this ring being the engagement one, though, no. Most certainly not.”

“You are not serious,” she repeated, her voice weaker than before while her knees began to bend as though she might collapse. Tears began welling in her eyes, and Adrien was growing nervous.

“I’m sorry!” Adrien finally got out, panicked. “I had something so much better planned out, and I definitely should have thought that through—”

“I’m not talking about that, you stupid idiot!” she cried. In a flash, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung tight. “That was so unromantic and I shouldn’t have expected anything less from you.”

By now, Adrien could hear the tears in her voice, but considering the way she clung to him, she wasn’t too mad about this poorly planned out engagement. “Yeah, it will be one for the books,” he surrendered, hugging her back tightly. “But, is that a yes?”

She nodded, clinging to him tighter. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said with a sigh, the tension leaving his body. “But you’re okay with that, right?”

She sniffed. “Yeah,” she admitted. “Unfortunately, I’m a little too okay with that.”

Adrien just chuckled. “I’ll take it.”

 23. Sunset

Marinette looked at the little black kitty ring on her finger. Under normal circumstances, it signaled that she was engaged.

In her case, it signaled she was engaged to an idiot.

“I still can’t believe I did that.”

Marinette chuckled at the blonde man beside her hanging his head in his hand. At the moment, they were finishing up their impromptu date of actually getting the ice cream Adrien had wanted to get last weekend before staying out the rest of the afternoon and finding a spot to grab dinner. But dinner had ended and they hadn’t wanted to hog the table at the restaurant, so Adrien was escorting her home. However, as per usual, neither wanted to part, hence why they were procrastinating their parting on a bench in the park while they watched the sunset.

“Can’t get more spontaneous of a proposal than that,” she teased. Shockingly, she didn’t mind it, though. Adrien looked like he hadn’t even realized what he’d done until after he did it. The horror on his face still shone clear in her memory, bringing a grin to her lips. It really would be one for the books.

But still, he’d made it clear that he earnestly wanted to marry her, and in the end, that’s all that mattered to her.

“You have to know I meant it!” he cried, looking up to her with a faint blush on his cheeks. “I just… did not think that through.”

“At least you’re pretty.”

“Hey, I am plenty bright!”

“Really? Because I think a few bulbs need to be changed in your attic.”

“Says the crazy woman who not only accepted that proposal but is still wearing the cat ring.”

She sniggered. He had her there. “Well, I guess I’m a sucker for honestly.”

Adrien shook his head, a bemused smile on his face. “I’m glad that part came through, at the very least.”

Looking over at the man next to her, Marinette couldn’t help but feel happy. Botched proposal and all, she didn’t mind it one bit. They would always be a little chaotic, they’d always have their back-and-forth banter, but they’d also always have each other’s backs and ultimately would always be each other’s biggest support. The proposal just felt par for their course.

Plus, it would not only make for great stories but great teasing fodder, and Marinette was always down for anything that gave her the upper hand.

“Hey,” she said, voice earnest as she reached out to grab his hand. “Just so you know, I’ll probably never let up teasing you about it.”

He huffed in amusement. “I would think there was something seriously wrong with you if you did.”

“But,” she finished, “I am still very happy.”

His smile turned soft, and Marinette thought she might as well melt right then and there. “Well, I’m glad about that,” Adrien said, raising her hand to his lips so he could kiss her knuckles. “But there is definitely one thing I have to fix.”

Marinette quirked a brow, confused for a second before realizing what he was referring to. “The ring?” she asked, wiggling her left ring finger. “Because I’m not gonna lie, I would like an actual one.”

“Yeah? Well how about this one?” That’s when Adrien slid off the park bench, getting on one knee before her and reached into his pocket. Biting her lip to withhold a girlish squeal, Marinette found that she really didn’t care what the ring looked like.

But she wasn’t going to lie, the stunning blue sapphire he presented her with was freaking gorgeous.

“I know diamonds are traditional,” he said, tugging her left hand closer to him. “But you’re not some average girl. I didn’t think something like that would suit you. Marinette, I would like to apologize for not doing this right the first time, but I’m so grateful that you accepted anyway. I’m so thankful to have you in my life, so much so that I want you to stay by my side as my life-long partner. So with this ring, I’ll ask you properly this time. Marinette, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Marinette felt the tears prickling her eyes. It was such an easy question, and yet, getting the word to roll of her tongue was difficult. She nodded fervently. “Yes!”

With a grin, Adrien took off the kitty ring and replaced it with the one glittering in his hand. Once he did that, she threw her arms around his neck, clinging tightly to him just as she had the first time he proposed.

There were a few cheers and a round of applause from the people around them, but Marinette couldn’t care less. For better or worse, she was going to marry this idiot.

She couldn’t ask for anything better than that.

 24. Balcony

Adrien stood out on his tiny balcony, looking up at the stars and purposefully ignoring his phone.

More specifically, the message his father had left him.

It’s been over a year. The message said. What are you doing with your life now?

Good question.

Adrien sighed, his eyes shutting as he hung his head. Well, he was still working at Tom and Sabine’s bakery, and honestly, he was pretty happy with that. He got to work with people he loved doing something that he did find enjoyable. He never really fancied himself to be the creative type, but finding himself in the kitchen while crafting desserts and making bread had brought more joy into his life than modeling ever had. On top of that, he was getting married. He thought that was a good accomplishment.

But he knew it wouldn’t be good enough for his father.

He heard his phone buzz again and groaned. The last thing he did was want to answer it.

What would I even say? He thought, rubbing his forehead in a vain attempt to relieve the growing stress headache.

Unfortunately, he was too curious for his own good. And that curiosity won out over his reluctance.

He walked inside to where he’d left his phone sitting on the bed side table. Bracing himself, he tapped the screen, only for all tension to instantly drain form his body upon learning it wasn’t a text from his father but rather from Marinette.

You want to go do something tomorrow?

He smiled, collapsing back onto his bed with a smile. Of course he wanted to do something tomorrow. What, he didn’t know, but didn’t really care, either. They always had fun together whatever they did.

He opened the text and started a reply before stopping and deciding to give her a call instead.

“Hey, hot stuff,” she said. He could hear the flirty grin on her face. “Missed the sound of my voice?”

He grinned. “Yeah. Guess you could say that.”

There was a pause on the other side of the line. “Something wrong?” she asked, all teasing gone from her tone.

Adrien sighed. “My father.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, you know, he kicked me out and now is wanting to know what I’m doing with my life.”

He heard her scoff over the phone. “Really?”

“Yeah, but I don’t really want to talk about that right now,” he said. “Right now, I just want to hear your voice.”

“Oh? What do you want to talk about then? My thoughts on that new anime you showed me?’

He chuckled. “You could talk about the weather and I’d be cool with it.”

“Well,” she began in a smooth voice. “Tonight’s forecast includes clear skies with no stars due to light pollution. A light breeze blows through the city tonight towards the Eiffel tower, whatever direction that is. It is an undetermined temperature, but comfortably cool enough to be outside in a short sleeve tee-shirt. How’s that?”

Adrien could feel his worries ease away at the sound of her voice, her sass, spunk, and sarcasm still coming through even through her calm tone. He really loved this woman and was the luckiest guy alive to be marrying her. “It’s perfect.”

[kasienda]

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir: Ch 8 - Confrontation

Chapter 1: I Want It To Be You

Chapter 2: Best Friends

Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans

Chapter 4: A Thank You

Chapter 5: Unwanted Revelations

Chapter 6: Miraculous Abuse

Chapter 7: Five Minute Adventures of Ananta

Chapter 8: Confrontation

Adrien started at the sudden thud on his bedroom floor. He looked up. Ananta was breathing heavily and his expression was solemn. His best friend definitely didn’t look like he was just there to continue his day of goofing off and having a ridiculous time. 

“What’s wrong?” Adrien asked. 

“Your old man is a serious piece of work!”

“Did you punch him?” Adrien asked. 

Nino threw his hands up. “No! And I definitely should have! I have serious regrets! He fucking shattered my knee cap and tried to take the snake!“

Adrien dropped his stylus, and turned his full attention towards his guest. “Umm… maybe you should start from the beginning.” 

Read on Ao3

Nino sighed, and let himself flop backwards onto Adrien’s bed. 

“I was just continuing to live out my reckless fantasies. I just confronted him! I yelled at him about how awful of a father he was, and the bastard barely reacted!” Nino complained. “Then I told him you were Chat Noir, and it was like he flipped a switch.” 

“You told him I was Chat Noir?” Adrien asked, his voice small. 

“It never happened now! You don’t need to worry.”

Adrien shook his head. “I wasn’t… Uh… I mean, how did he react?” Adrien asked softly, his throat had dropped into his gut.

Nino wasn’t even looking at him - his friend was staring at the ceiling, fidgeting in clear agitation. “He went scary silent! He called Nathalie in. Apparently, they’ve suspected you were Chat Noir before, and thought they had ruled it out during Gorizilla.”

“Did he say anything else?” Adrien asked.

“Umm… he said barely anything the whole time I was there. I was the one talking. I told him how amazing you are, and how much of a jerk he is, but he didn’t react.” 

“He said nothing else?” Adrien asked again, gripping the side of his chair, trying to disguise the urgency with which he needed to know.  

“He mostly just said his parenting choices were none of my business. But… he did say something melodramatic like, ‘my own son, this entire time,’” Nino said, dropping his voice into his lower register in a mock impersonation of Adrien’s father. “Like you being a superhero was a personal affront to him!” 

“He was disappointed then?” Adrien asked. 

Nino bolted into a sitting position, his expression horrified as he finally caught Adrien’s train of thought. “Dude! I’m sorry! I didn’t think! I didn’t even consider that! Of course it would matter to you what he thought of your dual identity. I definitely didn’t mean to hit you with all this like a train. I’m so sorry!” 

“It’s…” Adrien trailed off. It wasn’t exactly okay, but Adrien wanted it to be okay. He definitely knew Nino hadn’t been trying to hurt him, but Nino had also known that Adrien was avoiding talking to his father with the snake. “It doesn’t matter,” Adrien said instead. “Just… tell me what he thought of the whole thing.”

“I… I don’t know, dude. He was definitely super creepy. But… I think he was holding back everything he was thinking. I don’t know what he thinks. Do you want me to go in there and try and find out?” 

Adrien shook his head rapidly. “No… it’s better if we keep your knees intact, and make sure he doesn’t have access to the snake. Maybe, you shouldn’t be here at all.” 

“Dude, are you okay?” 

“He really attacked you?” 

Nino nodded. “When my miraculous beeped its first warning, he looked right at it and then lunged forward. And dude! He was super capable! He knew exactly how and where to strike to incapacitate me.” 

“Did he know who you were?” Adrien asked softly. 

Nino winced. “Yeah, he figured it out. It probably wasn’t hard based on what I was screaming at him.” 

Adrien wilted.

“It’s okay!” Nino insisted. “I reset. I’m fine.” 

Adrien disagreed. It wasn’t okay that his father was willing to attack a miraculous holder, but especially wasn’t okay that his father was willing to attack his friends. 

What would motivate him to do that? 

“He actually tried to take your miraculous?”

“Dude! He almost nabbed it. If it hadn’t been for yesterday where I had so much practice hitting that reset without thought, he might’ve been successful.”

Adrien fell quiet, but his mind was whirling, and he wasn’t happy with where it was going, but he couldn’t not consider it.

“Dude, what are you thinking?”

“Nino, what if my father is Hawkmoth?” Adrien was amazed at how steady his voice was. Maybe it was because he had heard it before. Or maybe, it was just starting to make too much sense.

“Dude! That’s a big leap. The guy is awful and honestly, I wouldn’t be that surprised, but surely there are other explanations for him being a jerk and a good fighter?”

“Ladybug suspected him once before. She had actual evidence.”

Nino’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said on an exhale.

“What was the evidence?” Nino asked quietly.

Adrien shook his head. “I don’t know. I got really defensive and snapped at her. And then he was akumatized, and she crossed him off the suspect list. I never thought about it. I didn’t want to think about it.”

Nino nodded. “Understandable. But what does he get out of being Hawkmoth? He already has pretty much everything!”

“To bring back maman.”

And it fit. The second the words were out of his mouth, Adrien wanted to throw up. He could see it. His father was used to getting what he wanted either through intimidation or money, but bringing back his mother was something he was denied. Instead of accepting that, grieving and moving on like a normal person, would his father have turned to magic?

“Nathalie would have to be in on it,” he thought out loud. Maybe that’s why she had been so horrified by his identity and insistent that she and his father couldn’t know his.

“I’m going to need the snake back, Nino,” Adrien announced, his voice monotone, but steady.

“What are you going to do?” Nino asked. 

“I’m going to find out for sure if my father is Hawkmoth,” Adrien said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Will you be okay, alone? Shouldn’t we call Ladybug, maybe bring in some reinforcements?”

Adrien shook his head. “Time loops are easier when you don’t have to explain everything you’ve learned to a team...” he trailed off, considering. “And honestly, I… I would prefer to know first. If we’re right, I will tell her. But I’ll set the time loop outside the mansion. If he makes any kind of move, I will reset immediately. It’ll be fine.”

“But… will you be? If it turns out that he is?” 

“I… I don’t know. But it’s like you said, Nino. I have to know.”

“I’ll be here.”

“No,” Adrien disagreed.

“No? Dude! If you’re right about all of this, I don’t want you here in this mansion alone!” 

Adrien shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t want to face this alone either, but… if Ladybug has taught me anything, it’s that we have to be smart about this. If you almost lost the snake… I might lose it, too. I might get captured or incapicated or worse. I need someone to know, who’s not here! If you don’t see me by tomorrow, you go straight to Alya with our suspicions, okay?”

Nino looked so torn, but in the end he nodded. “Okay. But can I give you the snake back after I’ve gone back home?”

“What? You don’t want to be carried over the threshold bridal style by your superhero crush?” Adrien teased, but if Nino’s somber face was anything to go by, the joke fell flat. 

“I don’t want you to be tired right before you go and confront your father.” 

… 

Adrien took one slow deep breath with his eyes closed. Then he activated the snake and launched himself through the open window in his father’s office.

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave,” Gabriel barked instantly, rising to his feet at Snake Noir’s intrusion. 

“Is that anyway to greet your friendly neighborhood superhero?” Snake Noir joked the way Adrien Agreste never would. 

“You are a teenager in possession of a power you do not understand. Using a miraculous that you just randomly found is hardly an accomplishment worthy of respect. Especially if you are using it to break into private residences.”

“I would think not having lost once to Hawkmoth, and having personally saved you on two separate occasions would be its own resume,” Adrien countered.

“Or perhaps, if you had given it up to him in that very first encounter, the city would already be free of his influence and I never would have needed rescue.”

“Are you seriously suggesting I should have handed over the power of destruction to a terrorist.” 

“Yes.” 

“You’re a real piece of work,” Adrien snapped. 

Gabriel picked up his phone. No doubt to call the authorities.

Adrien reset with a sigh.

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave.” 

“Actually, I happen to live here.”

Gabriel froze, his grey eyes rising to Snake Noir’s masked eyes.

“Adrien?”

“I realize you likely don’t approve.” 

“Of my son gallivanting around the city in that ridiculous cat suit while putting his life in mortal peril?” Gabriel barked. “No, I don’t approve.”

“And here I was hoping that some part of you would be proud of me,” Adrien admitted softly. 

“Adrien, I forbid you from continuing as a superhero. It is far too dangerous.”

“You’re not going to remember this conversation in three minutes, father. You’re not in a position to make demands.”

Gabriel held out his hand. “Give me your ring and I will take care of it.”

Adrien backed away, knowing if what Nino had said was true, his father was more than capable of an effective strike. “I’m not going to give you my miraculous. Not either of them.” 

“Then what did you want to tell me?”

“I’ve come to ask if you’re Hawkmoth.” 

“You would accuse me? Your own father? Of being a domestic terrorist?”

“Would you cut it out and just answer the question?”

“Watch your tone!” 

“You’re worried about my tone?!”

“I see no reason to entertain your insolence and disrespect with a response.”

Adrien’s gut twisted. It wasn’t a denial. But it wasn’t a confirmation either. His father was not acting like an innocent man. And while Adrien was more convinced than ever that he was onto something, he wasn’t leaving until he was absolutely sure one way or the other.

“Father, I’m sorry.” He wasn’t actually sorry, but Adrien knew that an apology was often one of the only tools he had to calm his raging father. “I just… Ladybug suspected you. And I had to prove her wrong. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

His father’s face gave away nothing. There was no change in his expression or posture. 

“I’m just worried about you, Adrien,” his father said. “You’re a child. You shouldn’t be risking yourself. This isn’t your fight. Nor your responsibility.” 

“It’s not that big of a risk,” Adrien countered. “Ladybug always brings me back.” Adrien watched his father’s face carefully. 

And sure enough, his lips pressed together into a thin line. 

“You don’t have a say,” Adrien pressed further.

“I’m your father!” Gabriel insisted. 

“That doesn’t mean you get to make every decision about my life!” Adrien shouted back. He knew that he’d never have had the gall to say that if his father was going to remember his defiance, but it felt freeing to say. Maybe Nino had been right and he should have confronted his father with the snake weeks ago. 

“You are still a child! Until you’re an adult, it is my right to see to your safety and affairs.”

Adrien bristled at his father’s choice of words. His right?! Didn’t he mean responsibility?

But that was just it. His father probably didn’t see caring for him as a responsibility. Nathalie saw to his affairs, and his bodyguard saw to his safety. What did his father ever do other than try to control him? 

“I haven’t been a child since mother left! And I think I finally understand why she did! To get away from you controlling every part of her life!”

“How dare you?!”

“How dare I?” Adrien repeated. “You’re the one that drove her away!” 

Gabriel shoved his computer monitor off his desk. It fell to the ground with a shattered crash. Then Gabriel flipped the desk itself. 

Adrien took a step back, every muscle tense and ready to spring into retreat. He had never seen his father lose control like this. 

Gabriel stalked forward, over the debris, his breath suddenly heaving in his chest. 

“Get out of my house!” he screamed, spit droplets flying from his mouth.

Adrien didn’t need to be told twice. He reset. 

He stood once again on the mansion’s tiled roof. The sun was shining, the sky a perfect blue. Birds chirped in the garden and a car drove past the outer gates. 

There was no evidence that he and his father had been screaming at each other seconds prior. 

Because they hadn’t been. 

He drew in a shaky breath and sat down, burying his head in his hands and knees. The event now only existed as a figment in Adrien’s memory. 

His father hadn’t just lost control. He hadn’t just kicked Adrien out of his childhood home. 

And yet his hands were trembling and his heartbeat was roaring in his ears. 

Adrien was more convinced than ever that his father was the villain Ladybug had suspected he was. But what would get his father to come clean? Just asking hadn’t worked. Challenging his authority always made things worse. As apparently did direct confrontations.

Adrien stood up.

He knew what he had to say. 

He reset, and then dove back down into his father’s office for the fourth time. 

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave.” 

“Hello father,” Adrien greeted formally. 

Gabriel’s eyes widened, focused on his transformed suit. “Adrien?” 

“I’ve come to apologize to you. I’ve been fighting as Chat Noir this entire time to protect Paris. But that was before I realized what Hawkmoth was fighting for.”

Adrien could already see the anticipation gleaming in his father’s eyes as he leaned eagerly forward. 

“And what is Shadowmoth fighting for?” Gabriel asked. 

Did he seriously just correct the villain’s name to Shadowmoth? 

“You’re fighting to bring back mom,” Adrien told him. “And I want to help you. Ladybug…” and he had beat back a sob for even uttering these words. “Ladybug… she trusts me. I can… I can get you the miraculous of creation and I already have destruction,” he said, holding up his hand putting the ring on display.

“And you are willing to support Shadowmoth against the partner you’ve fought beside and defended for two years?”

“Family should come first, don’t you think?” Adrien said. 

His father was silent, considering him stoically. 

“I would do anything for Maman,” Adrien whispered. “To hear her voice again? To see her smile? Wouldn’t you?” It was what his father would have said to him had the identity reveal had played out in the reverse direction.

Gabriel smiled as he rose to his feet. “I should have trusted you with this ages ago, Adrien. I am sorry. I doubted you. I wasn’t certain that you had the stomach to do what needed to be done. To think, you were the key to victory the entire time. I should have had more faith.”

Adrien’s whole world shattered at the unequivocal confirmation. And yet, he remained standing, his eyes were dry, and his hands remained steady. Some part of him wondered at his ability to take the revelation without flinching. He knew if he had learned this a year ago, he would be a puddle on the floor balling,  barely able to function. 

But a lot had changed in the last year. A lot had changed in just the last few weeks. Adrien suddenly had a lot of practice at dealing with world-ending revelations and the accompanying grief. A lot of practice at saying good-bye to people that he loved.

“I miss her so much,” Adrien said, his voice cracking. And this time he did nothing to suppress the tears that wanted to fall. Because in this much, he was being honest. He missed her. 

So much.

His father came around the desk, and swept Adrien up in a hug. For one weak moment, Adrien allowed himself to melt into the awkward embrace. 

And then, the snake miraculous beeped, and his father jerked away violently, his eyes blazing with unbridled rage.

“You’re in a time loop?!” his father roared. 

Adrien didn’t give him another second to react. 

He reset. And he was back on the mansion’s rooftop. He dropped like a lead weight to the roof tiles. 

He had just done something he had never done before. 

He had earned his father’s admiration and respect.

His love.

The tears came fast and hard, and Adrien just let himself heave and sob because he knew he couldn’t keep his father’s love. 

It came at a price Adrien was unwilling to pay.

And now, given what he knew he had to do, he knew without any doubt he would never have his father’s love.

Not for the rest of his life. 

…

It only took two more loops to stop crying. And then his experience as a superhero who always had to act, to strike, to make decisions in life or death situations took over. Because he was a professional with a job to do.

But before that, he would give his father a chance to surrender. Adrien knew that his father wouldn’t take it, but he had to try anyway if only for his own peace of mind years from this moment. 

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave.” 

God, Adrien was really getting sick of that line. 

“Gabriel Agreste, hand over the butterfly and peacock miraculouses without a fight, and I won’t tell a soul who you are.”

Adrien held out his hand, hoping with every fiber of his being that his father would just surrender. 

Gabriel glared at him, but didn’t say anything for several seconds. Was his father considering his escape options? Or was he actually considering surrendering the miraculouses? 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he eventually said stoically.

Snake Noir snorted. “This is my ninth loop. I’ve already confirmed you’re Hawkmoth. If you give it up, you can continue to live your life of privilege with your family. The city never need know who you are.” 

“That’s quite the generous offer coming from you,” Gabriel said. 

Gabriel was wrong. It was a selfish offer. Please father, please just take it. 

Snake Noir glanced at the portrait of his mother that hung behind Gabriel “You’re not the only one who has lost someone you know.”

Gabriel launched to his feet, snarling. “What do you know of loss?”

“I lost my mother about three years ago, and I think I’m about to lose my father,” Adrien confessed calmly.

His father froze, his eyes widened. “Adrien?”

“Please father, give it up,” Adrien entreated. “Give it up and we can be a family.” 

“Adrien, we can be a family. A whole and complete family with your mother here with us again. Please, just help me. With Chat Noir on our side, our victory is certain.”

Adrien squeezed his eyes shut against his father’s pleas.

“I will forgive all the years you fought against me. Join me now, and we can bring her back.”

“We can’t,” Adrien sobbed.

“We can,” his father insisted. “The ladybug and black cat will grant any wish.” 

“The cost is too high.”

Gabriel snarled at him. “How can you be against me?! I did this all for you!” 

“For me?! Are you serious, right now?! This was always for yourself!”

“For both of us!” 

Adrien shook his head in agitation. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Adrien,” his father said, his voice contained an actual note of desperation. 

Adrien’s eyes shot to his father’s and considered him. 

His father might now want to hurt him. But he would. If that’s what it took. 

Hot tears spilled down his face. 

“So be it, father.” 

“Adrien!”

Adrien didn’t give him the chance to say anything else. 

… 

On his next loop, he came through the front doors rather than through the window. His focus was on Nathalie. 

If his father deserved a chance, so did she. And he was far less certain what she would choose. 

Nathalie jumped to her feet instantly at his unexpected presence. 

“Don’t stand on my account,” he told her. “I know you still haven’t been feeling well.” 

“What can I do for you, M. Noir?” she said with as much dignity and professionalism as ever. Like his presence wasn’t abnormal at all. 

“Where does he keep it, Nathalie?” he asked. 

“Where does who keep what?” she asked, but it was clear to him that she was stalling when she glanced toward the doors to his father’s office. 

“My father?” he clarified, following her gaze. “Where does he keep the butterfly miraculous?” 

She stared at him, her expression almost unchanged except her pupils had dilated. It was good to know some things were capable of throwing Nathalie off her unshakeable foundation - that she was human.

She pushed the glasses up her nose. “I wouldn’t presume to know who your father is.” 

“Nathalie, you’ve already figured out that I’m Adrien, and you’ve clearly known about him for far longer if you were using the peacock.”

She flinched.

He walked right up to her, his eyes looking down at her. 

When had he grown taller than Nathalie? 

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” she said. 

His chest tightened painfully. He knew he had no claim to Nathalie’s affections, but he didn’t want to lose her, too. “Nathalie, please. Help me end this somewhat peacefully before one of us winds up killing the other. Please!” 

“He’s doing this to bring your mother back,” she confessed. 

He nodded. “Yeah, I got that. But I think maman might’ve had a good reason to leave. He has no right to force her back to a life she clearly didn’t want.” 

Nathalie shook her head. “She didn’t leave. She’s still here. She’s just in a magically induced coma.” 

He lost the ability to breathe. 

His mother was here? The whole time? They had let him believe she was gone, that she had left him? Or that she had died? When she was here the whole time?! 

His grip tightened around his baton, and his eyes burned.  

“Did either of you ever consider telling me?” he choked out. 

“He tried once, but you gave him your blessing to move on, and he decided you weren’t dedicated enough.”

He shook his head. Of course he did. “I gave him my blessing to move on with you,” he snapped back. 

She glanced past him and adjusted her glasses. “Be that as it may,” she said softly. 

“I don’t understand you. You’re willing to die for him?”

She turned back to him, her eyes suddenly intense. “For all of you! To heal your family!” 

He took a step back. He wasn’t certain he wanted to be a part of this family. 

“So you won’t help me?” he concluded. 

“I won’t betray your father, Adrien. I can’t. I hate that it was you that we were fighting. And I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too, Nathalie.”

He reset the snake.

… 

It only took thirteen loops to figure out how to get to the super secret supervillain lair underneath the mansion.

And there she was, preserved perfectly. She was exactly as he remembered - beautiful and soft. She could have just been sleeping if she hadn’t been lying in a glass coffin like some fairy tale princess waiting for a kiss of true love.

“Hi maman,” he whispered, his claws tracing out the curve of her face on the glass. “It’s… good to see you,” he managed before his throat lodged itself closed. He leaned his forehead against the smooth surface and he shook as silent sobs overtook him. 

He fought to gain his breath back under control. He had so much he wanted to say to her. “So much has changed since you left us,” he whispered. “I wish I could tell you about all of it. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he sobbed. 

“How did you get down here?!”

Adrien whirled, and found himself face to face with Shadowmoth. 

“It wasn’t hard,” Snake Noir said, before pointing to the window. “That’s a very big window.”

“What are you doing down here?” the villain demanded.

“Saying good-bye to my mother,” Adrien said. 

Whatever his father had expected him to say that was not it. He literally stopped in his tracks, his eyes going wide as if Adrien had just struck him. Which in a way, he supposed he had. “Adrien?” 

“Yes father?”

THe older man smiled. He actually smiled. “This is perfect.” 

Adrien had never disagreed with his father more in his life. This was about as far from perfect as they could get. 

“You can help me,” he was saying. “Help your mother. You have what we need! And I’m sure if Ladybug knows it’s for your mother, she’ll be willing to help as well.”

Snake Noir shook his head, tears trailing over his mask. “We can’t revive her,” he whispered. 

“We can!”

“The price is too high.” 

“I will pay any price!” his father screamed. 

“And that’s exactly why you can’t revive her! Did you know there was another timeline out there? One where you akumatized me! And the whole fucking world was destroyed! Is that a price you’re willing to pay?”

“If you help me, there would be no reason to akumatize you.” 

“I can’t believe you! There’s no way I can convince you to give it up, is there?”

Gabriel ignored him, stalking closer. “Give me your miraculous!” 

“I won’t!” 

“This isn’t your battle to fight!” Gabriel snarled. “You are a child!” 

“I stopped being a child the day mother disappeared! Because you disappeared the same day she did! I thought…” Adrien broke off momentarily overwhelmed with his tears. “I thought you were grieving! Turns out you were terrorizing the whole city!”

“For you!” 

“That’s a load of bull shit!” Adrien screamed back.  

Shadowmoth surged forward, snarling. And Adrien had run out of walkway. “Is your mother not worth it? You would betray me? Betray your own mother? For what? Some girl you barely even know?”

Adrien laughed bitterly. At this point he knew Marinette far better than either of his parents. If only she knew that.

“You would make me choose between two women that I love?!” Adrien countered. 

“It shouldn’t be that hard. There are millions of women for you to fall in love with. You only have one mother.” 

“I could say the same to you,” Adrien said. “You could fall in love again. You only have one son.” 

Shadowmoth lunged forward, striking with his cane. Adrien parried the blow with his staff, and dodged to the side. “Maman wouldn’t want you to do this!” he yelled.

His father laughed. “This was her plan!”

Adrien stumbled, and lost his form. Shadowmoth struck again through the lapse in his defenses. 

Snake Noir took the strike to the shoulder, and fell backwards. “Then she doesn’t deserve to be revived!”

Gabriel sneered. “I failed in raising you.”

“You didn’t raise me at all! And I’m likely better for it!”

Shadowmoth struck downwards, but Adrien just flicked the snake miraculous before the cane could make contact again, and he was back on the mansion’s tiled roof overlooking his mother’s gardens. 

“Sass, scales rest.” The snake slipped away, but he was still Chat Noir. He vaulted blindly away needing to be anywhere else.

Once he had put half a mile between himself and his former home, he collapsed to the ground, and pulled open the communicator. 

“M’lady, I figured out who Shadowmoth is. And I took the liberty of doing some reconnaissance with the snake.” He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “And I-I… have a plan. Let’s meet on your balcony; I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Please invite Rena and Carapace. And don’t worry about costumes. I already know who all of you are and I think both the others know who you are, too. See you soon, princess.”

He ended the call, buried his head into his knees, curled up, and cried. 

…

Chapter 9: Family

[luna-is-on-mars]

I'm so deeply sorry for worrying you @ajokeformur-ray and @jslittlebirdie! That was never my intention and it pains me very much to realize how unfair and careless my disappearance was. In fact, I still find it difficult to realize and accept that I'm actually seen, heard and even valued by the two of you, that I may not just be a nobody on the internet, but a very real friendship. I would like to apologize to you from the bottom of my heart for the sorrow that has arisen, for the worries and thoughts that you've made, for the horrific impression that I've given and all the other terrible things and feelings that my sudden absence caused. I swear none of this was my intention and I hope so much you two know that none of this has to do with any of you! I'm all too aware of how it feels and none of you deserve it in the least. For this reason I understand that you don't want to have anything to do with me anymore and yet I hope that you can accept my apology. What I did was neither fair nor justified, I know that, but I still want to let you know that I miss you indescribably. Even when we weren't interacting or I was online, you were always with me, in my heart and mind. The meaning that you've for me is limitless and I could never thank you for all the wonderful, great things that you've done and are for me. I hope to never forget you and I hope so much that my carelessness and thoughtlessness didn't ruin such a meaningful acquaintance!

I was wondering how I could ever get in touch again, tried not to be a coward just once, to admit my mistake and to apologize. I know that I've always needed you more than you needed me, that I've hoped again and again for understanding and acceptance from you. And I realized that this time is probably no exception. So if you're still reading this text, then the READ MORE will be followed by my explanation of why I disappeared at all, why it took me so long to come back and what was going on in my head.

So, as you may know, my apprenticeship started last Monday. In detail, this means that I have two days of school every two weeks and one day of school for the opposite two weeks. In the weeks where I have one day of school, I also work five days in the store, in the weeks with two days of school it is four days. This means that I only have one day off per week and that I'm awake from 5:10 or 6:00 am, until 1:30 or 2:40 pm at work/school, at 2:00 or 3:30 pm I'm at home and go to bed by 9 p.m. at the latest, so really too little time to rest, cook, clean up, etc. So currently I ride my bike about 40-50 km per week. All of this ensures that I'm quite exhausted, plus the overwhelming changes in my everyday life, with completely new and unknown environments, activities, people and above all routines (which is an enormous effort for me). But all of this has become more or less established for me and I very much hope that not too much will change now and that I'll get used to everything as quickly as possible.

All of these things are already exhausting enough for me, but the worst is that I'm now going back to school with people who're all too quick to judge and who've high expectations of me, who've little understanding and openness for people who're different, with problems and difficulties. People like me. I've already had a negative clash with one of my teachers because he asked me to do something that I couldn't organize in terms of time.

But that's not what's worst for me because that's one of my classmates. She has only seen me for two days, hardly knows anything about me and yet she hurt me so much and made me think that I came home and cried, so discouraged and hopeless. Actually, I'm not an overly "openly" emotional person, but I don't have too high an opinion of myself anyway.

She told me that I'm such a shollow person, invisible, irrelevant, that my being alone alienates me from my surroundings, that I would't understand anything within the real life, that all I'm and feel are just my thoughts, that I'm a waste in this world, that I'm alone and always will be because my lack of social interaction and experiences mean that I'm not able, don't have the right, to feel part of any group or society. She told me that I'm a nobody, incapable of anything, with a cold heart.

And let me tell you, I was overwhelmed, scared, sad and hurt. I actually thought there was some truth to it, and maybe it is, but after days of worrying, I realized that I'm SO MUCH more too!

All of my problems, all of my loneliness don't make me angry, bitter or cold-hearted, on the contrary, in fact. My loneliness and detachment are part of me, neither positive nor negative, they allow me to observe, understand and empathize. Maybe I don't belong anywhere, but because of me, no one else will EVER have to feel as if they're not accepted and valued for who they're. No one will ever feel as lost or hopeless as I do. For me, every single living being is something very special and extraordinary. Maybe I don't have a big or important meaning, but neither am I meaningless. If being part of one of these groups or societies means that it's okay to hurt someone, then I NEVER can and NEVER want to be part of them. I prefer to watch the world, stay away from people who have no idea of the meaning of their words and deeds, stay lonely. Because, in reality, my heart is neither cold nor dead, it's incredibly alive, full of warmth and love. My mind is filled with so many wonderful ideas, stories, observations, and experiences; it's not dull or wasted. My amazement, love, curiousity, compassion and appreciation are truly limitless. Maybe I'll never fully understand the people and life around me, maybe I'll never find my place, my home, but that's okay. My mother always told me that if I don't find my place among people, I'll always have one among the stars. I've no idea what or who is popular, how to do this or that, what's considered normal or realistic, what makes the average life special, worth living or beautiful. And that's okay. I realized, more than before, that I'm capable of something, something very important in fact! I feel, intensely, limitless and almost magical. I know what it feels like to have the rain pattering down on me, to feel the wind in my hair, to see my cats happy, to see the smiles of those around me, authentic and beautiful, how amazing it is to look at the stars, to be filled and flowed through by music. I know what it feels like to live, not to experience, but to simply be alive, to breathe, to see and to perceive everything, no matter how small, around me. To be overwhelmed by emotions, good and bad. Should I actually be meaningless, then I'm definitely grateful for all the meaningful things that I can experience.

I'm lonely, out of place, that's right. Maybe I'm lost, but maybe it allows me to see and discover so much more. I have realized that all of my weaknesses and difficulties, my loneliness, make me understanding and kind. Not cold or incompetent, insignificant or indifferent. I wish I could show her, make her understand that there's so much more than popularity or reputation, all of these wonderfully great things that she seems to overlook or perceive as of less value. And even though her words hurt me, I made up my mind to forgive her. I wish she would understand how complex and meaningful words, deeds, feelings, people and this extraordinary world are, I'm sorry that she understands and appreciates so little. In any case, I want to make sure that she, or anyone else, NEVER gets hurt by me.

I'm sorry to annoy you with my rambling, but that's why I needed time to myself. Unfortunately, I'll not have too much time and energy to be very active in the future either, but I'll try to read and answer all of your wonderful messages. I can't tell how quickly I'm able to do this, but I will try my best! After a really exhausting and intense week, I'm definitely back. And I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the compassionate, thoughtful messages. Their, and your, incredible meaning is really difficult for me to put into words, so THANK YOU!

I miss you both so incredible much and I hope all is well with you.

[dangerous-mess]

Achilles Come Down

Characters: Shinsou x gender neutral reader

Contains: Mentions of suicide attempt, mentions of self harm, mentions of stress, mentions of minor character deaths, relationship issues, Pro Hero Shinsou. This story contains a lot of heavy and sensitive material, please read at your own risk. 

Word Count: 2.7K

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles come down. Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof.

Y/N stood near the ledge of the building, looking down at the chaos of the traffic below. The chill air blew in their face, making shivers cover their arms. Part of them wanted to back out now and just go back inside, where it would be warm, but the little voice within their mind told them this needed to be done. They needed to go ahead and be up here, and they needed to jump before he got home. Y/N knew that as soon as he got home from patrolling that it was over, they would be talked off the edge and back inside.

Y/N slowly and carefully sat down, wanting to spend their final moments, being at peace and calming their nerves before making the leap. Y/N never planned to end up nor did they really want to jump. But things had just gotten so tough lately and it was hard for them to find a reason to keep going. Sure, they had their boyfriend, but Y/N was beginning to feel more like a bother and problem than a decent partner, which was definitely putting a strain on the relationship.

Y/N was struggling with finishing grad school and was tempted to just give up most days, and with the recent loss of their mother, things had only become more difficult. Y/N was close to their mother, more so their mother was one of the biggest supporters in their life, so when she died, it was almost like Y/N was unable to recover. They went to therapy and found local groups to help deal with grief but nothing seemed to help. It didn’t help that their boyfriend, Shinsou was becoming busier being a pro hero, which meant he was homeless and less. So most of the time Y/N was left alone.

Though, in this time alone Y/N began to find ways to relieve any stress from school and to help the grief hurt a little less. They fell back into the hands of self-hatred and the cruel knife it wielded. As their mind wandered to the cruelness they brought upon themselves and looked at their scarred arms, it brought tears to their eyes. Y/N knew life wasn’t supposed to go like this, it was supposed to be a happy ending, just like they were promised so long ago. Their mother always spoke about how they would find their prince charming and would be swept away in a loving relationship and live happily ever after. And for a while, Y/N felt that they had found their happily ever after, but after the death of their mother and Shinsou’s work schedule, that ever after didn’t seem as real anymore.

You’re scaring us, and all of us. Some of us love you. Achilles, it’s not much but it’s proof.

Did Y/N still love Shinsou? Of course, they did, but things were more complicated now than ever before. He was gone so much, his work schedule hectic and with their classes and job, both of them hardly saw each other. Even in the shared apartment, they owned and the bed they shared, most nights the best was half full, one of them missing. At first, Shinsou not being home most nights really hurt Y/N, but as it happened more often they grew numb and used to it.

Y/N loved Shinsou, they remember the first day they met him. He came into the café that was closest to UA. He had come in one afternoon after classes had let out and ordered a black coffee with 4 espresso shots. Y/N remembers being taken back by this order, but still made it. Eventually, Shinsou became a regular customer and got the same order every visit. The more he came in, the more the two exchanged words and got to know each other. Y/N remembers the day they were brave enough to write their number on his cup and how nervous they were the rest of their shift. Shinsou, of course, texted them right away and they slowly began talking.

The rest of their relationship went from there, both of them growing closer every day. Y/N was there when Shinsou was moved to the hero course and learned to strengthen and embrace his quirk and what he could do. From there he graduated and started training and making his way up the ranks of being a pro hero. All while Y/N continued on with school in hopes to follow their dream of going into psychology and psychiatric work. Together they found a small place on the far side of town, a quiet and safe place for them both. A place they called their home and could be together after a long day, in peace. As the two grew older and their schedules grew busier they grew further apart. The talk of their future together became a distant memory and Y/N secretly longed for it.

When Shinsou was home, he hardly spoke much to Y/N. He would say hello and say a quick I love you, before going off to eat, shower, and sleep, all within that order. When both would be in the same bed, Shinsou no longer would hold Y/N and no longer let them hold him, they were just completely against any affection, which was completely odd for Y/N knew he loved affection. And as a very affectionate individual Y/N needed the affection as well, and just wanted to know they were still loved and appreciated by their boyfriend. Y/N knew they still loved and cared for Shinsou somewhere within them, but whether or not he felt the same was unknown. For saying the words “I love you” was one thing, but meaning it was another. For all they knew, it could be a force of habit for him at this point and he just didn’t mean it at all.

Remember your virtue. Redemption lies plainly in truth. Just humor us Achilles. Achilles come down, won’t you get up off, get up off the roof.

Some would claim there are other ways to fix issues and problems going on within a person’s life, but for Y/N this was the only answer. The main support from their mother no longer existed. Then there was the loving relationship that was failing and no longer sparked the same joy and happiness it once did. And maybe Y/N wasn’t to blame for it all, but they took it upon their self. In their eyes, it was their fault for everything, and maybe if they only focused and stopped worrying about things would have turned out differently. As time passed, Y/N became more anxious about going through with this. They had begun to have second thoughts and maybe, just maybe, there was another solution to their problems. But the voice in the back of their mind egged them on, convincing them that they needed to jump and sooner rather than later. This was the only answer, the correct solution that would make everything better for everyone. And Y/N knew if they were still on the ledge by the time Shinsou got home, it was over. They would break down and run to his arms, seeking comfort even if he truly no longer loved them or cared.

Y/N sighed and began to push their self up, finally done making peace with what needed to be done. They were ready to jump and finally be free. Their nerves began kicking in as they looked down and saw a small crowd forming below, clear they were concerned for Y/N perched upon the roof’s ledge. It was only a matter of time before a hero or worse Shinsou arrived at the scene.

The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken. Remember the pact of our youth. Where you go, I’m going. So jump and I’m jumping, since there is no me without you.

The door from the roof access point slammed open and a voice called out, “Y/N, dear please get away from the ledge.” Well speaking of the devil, it was Shinsou. He must have heard the news about a crowd forming around Y/N and their building and assumed the worst, though it was unclear if the Shinsou on the roof was the pro hero or their boyfriend, both two different people.

Y/N shook their head, never once turning back to look. They knew if they turned around and saw his dark purple eyes it would be over. And Y/N had to do this, it was for the better, wasn’t it? “N-no I need to do this. It’s for the best, I can finally be free Shinsou. I can finally be free of all hurt and pain I’m feeling. Don’t you want me to be happy?” Y/N yelled back, their eyes never once leaving the ever-growing crowd below.

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we can get you help. We can work through this together sweetheart, just get down and let’s talk about this, okay?” Shinsou spoke, his tone of voice never shaking or quivering, almost as if he was incapable of any emotions or feelings. Y/N sighed, tears starting to form in their eyes. Of course even during their lowest and darkest moment, as they stood on the ledge, he didn’t truly care. Typical Shinsou.

Y/N went to respond to Shinsou, barely catching themself when they realized Shinsou ended his sentence with a question. He was trying to use his quirk on them, so they would get off the ledge and he could be the hero everyone loved and adored, but Y/N wouldn’t let him have that satisfaction. So Y/N resorted to simply shaking their head no.

How the most dangerous thing is to love. How you will heal and rise above.

Y/N could hear Shinsou’s feet tap against the rooftop, meaning he was moving closer to them. This only caused Y/N to let out a groan. God, why was he making this so complicated and difficult, didn’t he realize how better this would be? Could he just stop being the hero for once and let things play out how it should go?

“You were always too smart for your own good, Y/N. So I’ll make you a deal, I won’t use my quirk on you, but please just come off the ledge. Let’s just talk about it, explain to me what’s going on in your head. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.” Shinsou pleaded, the sound of his footsteps stopping. Y/N turned out slightly, to see him standing only a few feet away, both of them a little more than arm’s length apart.

“Shinsou, just give up the hero act, alright? There is only one way I’m getting off this ledge and we both know how I’m going. You can’t save me, you had your chance but you were too absorbed in your hero work and being a hero to everyone else except to me. Just give up already, it’s over.” Y/N cried out, tears running down their face, as they locked eyes with their boyfriend. They watched as tears ran down his cheeks. It hurt Y/N to see him hurting so much but they needed to go through with this, it was the only way.

“Y/N….please. I love you, baby, don’t do this.” Was all Shinsou could muster out, a sob escaping from him. Y/N knew the man on the roof was no longer the pro hero but their boyfriend, which only made this so much more difficult. Part of them was tired and ready to fling them self off the roof and to finally be at peace, while the other half was tied down by the love they held and had for Shinsou.

You may feel no purpose nor a point for existing. It’s all just conjecture and gloom. And there may not be meaning so find one and seize it. Do not waste your self on this roof.

“You don’t understand, do you? I have to fucking do this Shinsou, I just need to go through with this but god you are making it so hard for me to jump. I hate that I love you and the feelings I have for you are the only thing keeping me on this ledge right now and I hate that. I hate the effect you have on me and how you just make everything so difficult!” Y/N screamed out, their entire body shaking, tears pouring down their face.

Slowly but surely, Y/N sat down on the ledge, just sobbing. Y/N could see Shinsou moving closer to them now but they were too tired to fight it anymore. They let their boyfriend come and pull them off the ledge and into his arms. Shinsou held them close, both of them crying. Neither said a word though, Y/N’s mind was still running, the urge to fling them self off the roof still a prominent thought in their mind.

“Shinsou...I need help. I don’t think I wanna die, even if every part of me is craving and wanting me to. Wanting me to hurt myself and others. Wanting me to just run and fall off this roof. I’m just so tired, I don’t wanna do anything anymore and just everything is falling apart.” Y/N cried more into their boyfriend’s hero gear, gripping onto the sleeve of his uniform tightly, scared if they let go, Shinsou would be gone and they would be alone once more on the ledge.

How the most dangerous thing is to love. How you’ll heal and rise above. Crowned by an overture bold and beyond. Ah, it’s more courageous to overcome.

“Sweetheart, we will get through this together. I’ll help you get the help you want and need and be there by your side through it all. I love you, I don’t wanna lose you.” Shinsou quietly whispered into your ear, afraid if he would speak up he would start crying once again.

“Shi...you don’t gotta lie anymore, I...I know you are losing feelings and it’s okay. You can move on and be happy being a hero with me supporting you in another way that isn’t your partner.”

Shinsou upon hearing this, gently pushed back and looked Y/N in the eyes. “Y/N, what are you talking about? I still love you so dearly and wanna be with you, where did that come from?”

“You’ve been distant lately and well I just assumed you no longer cared or worse...no longer loved me…” Y/N mumbled out, looking away from him, afraid to make eye contact with him right now.

He gently grabbed their chin and turned their head so they were looking at each other. “Y/N, I love you with all that I am. Without you, I don’t think I would have made it this far. I don’t think I would have become a pro hero or anything. You showed me what love is and I’m sorry I’m not the best at it giving you the same treatment and love you give me. And lately? God, I’m so sorry about lately and I know there are no excuses here. I’ve just been stressed from work and nervous.” He moved his hand so that it was on Y/N’s cheek. “It was going to be a surprise, but nervous cause I’m planning to propose to you Y/N.”

“Shinsou….I’m so-”

“Stop, you have nothing to apologize for one this matter baby. I shouldn’t have pushed you away the way I did, that’s my fault.” He placed a small kiss on their forehead.

And see life as a means to a triumph, today of all days.

Both slowly got up and went to the roof access door. It was going to be a long journey to recover for Y/N, but they were no longer afraid. Of course, there would be road bumps and difficulties along the way, these thoughts never truly going away, at least not overnight. But, with Shinsou by their side, it would be a little more bearable. They were given a purpose to live and keep going. Y/N had Shinsou and to some, that may not seem like much, but at that moment, it was just enough.

[always-on-tatooine]

MaulxReader part 8: The Escape

Finally getting to this part of the story (this has been rolling around in my head since winter break). At the same time, I’m happy I gave this story the time it’s needed to develop. Also, I’m so happy for all the friends I’ve met on here so far. I really appreciate everyone’s support.

Unfortunately, school is really ramping up so big sections like this will be coming out much slowly. I’ll still be working on this story but until break I will probably only be posting small blurbs. Also, I’m thinking of trying some other side projects too. (yes, most of them will consist of our favorite grumpy red Zabrack)

Also thinking of making an ao3 account too. I’ll keep you all updates if I do so.

Warning: Mentions of violence/wounds to reader, action sense, explosions, and strong emotions. As always, let me know if I missed anything

Masterlist link: https://always-on-tatooine.tumblr.com/post/640968824459526144/shooting-stars-maulxreader-masterlist

3.8k word count. Enjoy :)

@justalittlecloud @a-dorin @hornystarwarsbisexual @mother-0f-monsters @lovelyzabrak-meadow @pinkiemme @maulieber @joslynuniverse @dollar-tree-witchcraft @lalalandbutbetter @zabrak-show @secretmaul @jedi-bitch @helloladyvanilla @enchantress666

            Waves of questions and confusion were overwhelming, as (y/n) took in her surroundings. In what was less than a minute of holding her head down, the room once full of mob guards was now littered with dead bodies. The only one left standing held a strange glowing red weapon as it plummeted into the man who almost killed her. Who was the single survivor of this outmatched battle? She knew his name was Maul, and that she had provided housing for him over this past week. Yet here and now, (y/n) realized how little she knew about the man who just saved her life.

             One of the glowing beams of Maul’s weapon retracted, releasing its hold on Lysscol’s body. Leaving the former mob boss motionless on his throne, Maul walked over to (y/n). “Hold still,” his command was soft as one swoop of the remaining end of his weapon cut through her cuffs. Reaching a black gloved hand towards the freed captive he asked, “Are you ok?” (Y/n) did not know how to respond. So many questions ran through her head, yet none were able to find their way out, “What…? How…?”

            Helping her off the ground Maul looked her over, “Are you able to move on your own?” (Y/n) looked deeply into his tattooed face. Who was this man? “Yes, but…”

            Maul retracted the other end of his weapon, “Then we have to hurry. We may have killed their leader, but they will still come for us.” Pulling his hood back over his head, he grabbed (y/n)’s hand and led her out of the throne room.

            In the hallways, more guards laid on the floor. Rushing past them, the farmer was only able to get a glimpse of their condition; large slash wounds had cut though the guards chest plates, inflicting a deadly blow. Before, (y/n) could process the scene, the two were already past the alley way and rushing into the streets.

             The pair moved fast, yet stayed within the crowd, maneuvering through the groups of people as not to be seen. Still holding Maul’s hand, she did her best to keep up with him as he led her though the streets. Finally gaining the nerves, (y/n) asked, “How did you know where to find me?”

            “Only an organized syndicate would be able to push the number of weapons you were selling. So, I looked for their usual hiding places until I found the right one.”

            His remark did not satisfy (y/n)’s scrutiny. Remembering back, Victor Lysscol had seemed so familiar with Maul. As if they knew each other.  “You said you had given them orders. Are you a part of the syndicate?”

            “Something like that…”

            “Then what was that weapon you killed him with? Those blades you were using. I thought those were Jedi swords.” She could feel his hand tighten at the name of the legendary space monks. “Jedi are not the only ones who know how to use a lightsaber…” the words rolled off his lips with anger, yet his unpleasant facial expression would be left to the imagination as it was hidden by his hood.

            “Then how did you…?” (y/n) wanted to continue her interrogations, but Maul cut her off. “I will answer your question later. Right now, we need to get out of this town. You are now marked by the Crymorah’s. That means if they ever see you again, then they will kill you without a second thought.” The tone of urgency in his voice was enough to make her stop.  Taking her saviors advice, she focused on keeping up with him as they headed back to the shop.

            Quick on their feet, the two arrived back to the shop shortly after their conversation ended. Madam Rekstall now stood under the awning of the vegetable stand, as she had agreed to watch the shop while Maul had gone to retrieve (y/n). “Thank the maker you’re ok,” the psychic embraced her old friend in a big embrace, “I told you I foresaw one of your deals going wrong if you kept doing business with those mobsters.” Brushing some hair out of the farmer’s hair, she could see the bruise that was forming, gifted on her cheek by the late Lysscol, “It looks like they did a number on you, but it could have been a lot worse…”

            (Y/n) ignored the pain on her face. Still in shock, she was trying to piece everything together. “Is that how Maul knew to find me? You saw it in one of your visions?” Madam Rekstall shook her head, “Oh no my dear, he was quite capable of sensing your danger without my help. I just simply took over the shop when he ran over to go save you.” (Y/n) looked over at her savior, who was now starting to pack what few vegetable crates were left. He was the once who sensed she was in danger? But how?

            Still holding the farmer in her arms, the psychic began to speak again. Yet her words would fall on deaf ears as (y/n) was still compartmentalizing everything she had just witnessed. She watched as her old friend’s mouth moved, yet she could not hear a sound. Even the sounds of Maul hastily gathering the shop, the bustle coming from the open road beside her, and all the other overwhelming sounds of the city, all became an incoherent hum. Out of all the noses that surrounded her, the only thing she could make out was the sound of a radio. Specifically, a small radio that sat on the counter of another nearby shop stand. Looking over, she could see two men standing under the awning, listening to the broadcast as well.

            ‘We're here to interrupt this program with breaking news. The war is over now! The Separatists have all been defeated by the Republic Army. Counselor Palpatine, who’s leadership has recently been extended under jurisdiction of war, has announced that with the war over, The Council will now declare a new kind of republic. One that will unite the entire galaxy under one Empire.’

            “Did you hear that?” (y/n) hear the man standing behind the shop counter ask, “the war is over now!” “Thank the maker,” the other man chimed in, “maybe this new empire will do something to clean up this slum planet.”

            Watching the scene unfold, (y/n) wanted to join the men in their enthusiasm. The end of this drawn-out war between the Republic and the Separatists should be a good thing, right? Despite how good it sounded, something inside said otherwise. She could feel her insides start to twist as shivers ran down her spine. Something deep inside told her this was wrong. Then she remembered what Victor Lysscol had said in the throne room. ‘New governments mean new business,’ could this have been what he was referring to? Either way, the unsettlement she felt within was enough to tell her the end of this war would not bring anything good…

            (Y/n) was only broken by this strange state she found herself in, by the feeling of Maul’s hand on her shoulder. During her trance-like state, Madam Rekstall must have walked away, as her hooded friend was the only one standing near her now. How long was she out?

             “We can’t stay any longer. If we do not leave this town, it will only be a matter of time until they find us.” The sharpness in his voice reminded her of the paramount of the situation they were in. Grounding back into reality, she realized he was right. Nodding her head in agreement to the Zabrak, (y/n) headed over to the wagon to help pack what was left.

            Madam Rekstall now watched as the two quickly finished gathering their things. Folding one of her sets of arms, she started, “Do you have a plan on how to defend yourselves if they come for you out there on the plains?” (Y/n) was already mounting her jumper, getting ready to make their escape. Shaking off the eerie feeling of what she just experienced, she tried to compose back to her usual self.

            “You know I have one of the best security systems on this planet. Lysscol’s men know it too. If they even have the Reek balls to try to take us on, then they won’t make it back in one peace.” Rekstall rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Maul who had taken his place among the few crates that were left in the wagon. “Please take care of her out there. I haven’t seen any harm coming your guy’s way. Please don’t prove me wrong.”

            Maul looked over at (y/n) who was now starting the jumper. She would have died if he had not interfered. Yet now that the Crymorah Syndicate knew that she was connected to him, their grievance with the young farmer may only get worse. It was clear to him now, that in his current situation, he would be incapable of controlling the different crime families. If they were willing to betray him and disobey his orders, then his association with (y/n) meant they would stop at nothing to kill them both. ‘It’s her fault for getting herself into this mess,’ he thought to himself. Yet despite how much he tried to pass on the responsibility in his head, he could not deny the fact that she had been the only person to help him since he crashed on this planet. The causation to the state they found themselves seemed irrelevant as he felt it was his duty to protect her now. Over the sounds of the jumper engine starting, he insured, “I promise, no harm will come to her.”

            The farmer pulled the jumper and attached wagon out of their parking space. Looking over at the psychic, (y/n) called over, “Thank you for watching over the shop! I owe you one.” As the jumper began to pull away, Madam Rekstall called back, “Just be safe out there,” she waved an arm, “and may the force be with you!”

            The force? Her bike was already too far away to ask why her old friend had given her such a strange farewell. Weaving through the populated streets, (y/n) made her way out of the city. After some much careful driving between the hordes people, the pair had made it out. As tall clay buildings turned into flat grasslands, (y/n) felt that they had made their getaway. With the city behind them, she was able to pick up some speed on the open road. With fewer crates than they had that morning, they were able to move faster than before. It would not be long until the two would be home, and safe.

            Unknown to (y/n) and Maul, only moments after they left, two men on speeders arrived at the shop stand they had been selling at. They wore mixed armor like the guards in the throne den had, yet more time had been put into their garb to attempt to make it look coherent. They did not say for long; once it was obvious that their targets had escaped, they got back on their bikes and headed toward the city outskirts. Madam Rekstall could only watch the scene unfold without gaining the attention of the armed men. Sitting in her fabricated chair, she smoked her pipe, attempting to not show interest in the guard’s inquisition. Only after the men left, did the psychic feel that it was safe to mutter to herself, “May the force keep them safe.”

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

            Only when they were out in the fields of grasslands was (y/n) able to gather herself. As long blades of pale blue grass were pushed away from the velocity of her speeder, the last hour that had unfolded replayed in her mind. The farmer understood that arms dealing with the Orkaron Mafia was a dangerous job. Just getting her hands on the various bits of blasters and armor had almost cost her life a few times. Yet out on a small planet such as this one, she could only sell as many vegetables as there were mouths to feed. She was always just one bad growing season from not being able to make a sustainable income.  Her immoral and hazardous situation was not blind to her, but the need to eat and stay warm at night was overwhelming on a planet such as this.

             Glancing over her shoulder, she could see Maul was alert as he sat in the back of the wagon. ‘Strange’ has been a term she had used to describe her new housemate over this past week. Now she was now beginning to see there was much more to him. It felt almost haunting now, to have had someone stay with her for a week and know so little about them. Yet right when she was about to be executed, he came in and took on a whole syndicate base, all by himself.

             Executed… it really was a close call. Too close to (y/n)’s liking. It had been a long time since she had been in a situation where she had so little control. Danger was something she was used to. Yet each encounter she had out on this lawless planet, she always managed to have the upper hand. Yet today she was rendered powerless and was almost put down like an old Fathier. Helpless, it made her feel helpless. Tears that formed in her eyes were pushed to the sides of her face by the air that brushed against her vehicle. She had built this life of independence so that she would not need anyone’s help. Yet she would be dead now if it were not for Maul. It was not that she wasn't grateful to him, she just hated the feeling. ‘Helpless,’ the word repeated in her head again. A dreadful feeling, she had not felt in a long time. Not since she…

             “Incoming,” Maul roared, waking her out of her thoughts. Over her shoulders, (y/n) could see two speeders behind them and getting closer by the second. The wagon was already slowing them down enough as it was, but as the bikes got rapidly closer, it became apparent that their speeders had been altered, allowing them to move even faster for occasions such as this. Once they were in firing distance, blaster shots started flying past the escaping pair, nearly hitting.

            Maul was now standing in the back of the wagon, red sabers in hand he deflected the blasts as they came towards them. His deflections were flawless, yet the riders exhibited their maneuvering abilities; dodging each bullet that flew back. As they moved out of the way of the returning shots, Maul took the opportunity and turned to warn (y/n), “They're gaining on us! If we don’t do something soon, they may get close enough to crash the speeder!”

             (Y/n) looked around the empty lands. There had to be something that could help them. That is when she saw it, off in the distance she could see her farm coming into view. They were almost to safety, she just had to make it there before their new ‘friends’ could catch them. “Hang on!” she called, as she pushed full throttle toward the hut.

             The sounds of an overworked engine filled the space around them. With a slight jerk, the speeder gained speed, using all its power to carry their weight and the wagon with it. Despite their increase in speed, the riders managed to still get closer. Maul kept his balance as he continued to block the basters coming at them. “(Y/n), we need to do something fast! It’s too easy for them to overpower us at this rate!”

             (Y/n) called back to them between shots, “Can your saber cut though the wagon hitch?” “Of course!” Maul called back. “Good, I need you to get on the back of my bake, and when I tell you, cut the wagon.”

             In between the breaks of defecting shots, Maul took a glance towards the front of the speeder. The farm he had come to know was now in view. A few kilometers in front of it, he could see the familiar blinking lights hidden in the grass. (Y/n)’s plan was starting to make sense. Without hesitation he made his way to the speeder.

             If Maul were anything like the legendary Jedi she had heard about, she figured that he would have no problem getting from the wagon to the attached speeder at these speeds. What she did not expect was for Maul to do so while still managing to stand. Just as he did in the wagon, he was now balancing on the back seat of the speeder, waving both ends of his saber around as he continued to block blast as they came their way.

             There was no time to question how he was capable of any of this. The faint blinking posts were coming close at a rapid speed. (Y/n) knuckles grew lighter over the throttle as every bit of energy the engine could handle was headed right to it. It was only a few meters away when she changed her trajectory. Dropping all speed, she took a hard turn to the left. As the speeder spun around, she now faced the riders, who used to be right behind them, coming at them at full speed.

             “Now!” she called. Just as effortless as Maul had cut her cuffs back in the throne room, it only took one sweep to release the wagon from its confines. As (y/n) continued to spin, the velocity sent the wagon flying in off in a distance, away from the chaos. Free from the weight of the wagon, the speeder had almost completed a full spin.

            In sync with (y/n)’s unspoken plan, Maul maneuvered himself to a sitting position for what was about to happen next. With full speed, (y/n) now took off to the right, as the riders were almost in grabbing distance from them. Yet at their speed, they were unable to recorrect in time to follow. As their speeders continued to drive forward, the two grads went straight into the mine fields.

            The last that would be seen of the riders was a series of explosions that only consumed a small section of the vast planes. Dust and flames filled the area where they had detonated one of the many hidden landmines. Even on hovering speeders, the pressure from the anti-gravity converters was enough to set them off. (Y/n) stopped and turned the bike so they could watch the spectacle. Though Maul was used to this kind of excitement, here on this humble planet, it seemed so out of place. As for (y/n), she was just relieved that her home security came in handy when they needed it.

            When the flames died down, (y/n) drove over to the control pad she had used earlier that morning. Stopping the bike, the farmer got off the speeder and hit the switch. Buurrrrr the sound rang around them. Maul took the opportunity to stand up and address the young woman after such an encounter. “Very impressive strategy,” Maul complemented, “these traps really are excellently placed. I can now see how you’ve been able to take on so many…”

            (Y/n) was faced away from him, but Maul could sense something was wrong. “(Y/n)?” The young farmer turned towards him; arms wrapped around herself as she was beginning to cry. Maul was shocked. Usually, she was so composed. So cocky. Yet here in this moment she was… vulnerable. Had today been too much for her?

            Too much it was indeed. Waves of emotions flowed over (y/n) like an overwhelming sea. She did everything in her power to keep herself together, but after everything that had happened today. Being captured, almost dying, Maul saving her, and now this chase; it became too much to contain as tears began to fall from her face.

            She did not want to be seen like this, especially not by Maul. He had already seen her chained to the floor and beaten, and then this? Clenching her eyes shut, she wanted to disappear into the tall grasses. ‘Helpless,’ the words flooded her mind as the dreaded feeling crept in again.

            Yet, before the feeling could travel in her any farther, a warm sensation surrounded her. Opening her eyes, black cloth surrounded her as Maul began to hold her in his arms. His body felt slightly awkward, as if he had never given anyone a hug before. However, his arms around her were enough to make her start to cry even more. Barring herself further into the layers of black fabric, she released the feelings that had been overflowing inside.

            With everything that had happened, one thing in particular came to mind. Something that, for unknown reasons, (y/n) felt crucial to tell Maul. Between sobs she spoke, “In the market… there was a radio broadcast…” Maul pulled his head back a bit so that he could look at (y/n). Her face was a mess, as her (y/hc) was glued to her face and her (y/ec) eyes shimmered behind tears. “On the station. They said the war was over… that the counselor was declaring an empire…”

            Maul’s facial expressions showed how shocked he was by her statement. As much as she wanted to enquiry on his thoughts on the matter, her feelings only continued to come out even more. Crying harder now, she continued, “I don’t know why, but when I heard the news… with everything else happening… it’s supposed to be good news, but all I can feel is fear and dread when…”

            (Y/n)’s words became more incoherent as she began to cry more. ‘The force must be very strong with her,’ Maul though, ‘if she was able to see through Sidiou’s plans; even if she did not understand what she was sensing.’ The young farmer was now uncontrollably weeping in his arms. Maul was honestly a little envious at (y/n). He could feel how difficult this was for her, but to openly cry the way she was, took a kind of strength he felt he did not have.

            Seeing as she was barely able to hold herself up, Maul picked up the smaller woman and carried her in his arms towards the farm. If she wanted to fight him on the matter, but she was too exhausted to do so. As he continued to carry her, (y/n) tears started to subside as she was starting to fall asleep in his arms. “Rest,” Maul gave the gentle command. The sun was beginning to set in the horizon, revealing the two moons that were now hovering over the farm he walked towards. “Close your eyes for now, for there is so much for you to learn.”

[kiirokero]

Outro: Love is Not Over (4)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Self doubting behavior, self-deprecating language, mentions of deadbeat parents. Y/n’s pretty doubtful of themselves in this chapter :(

Word Count: 1.2k

Note: Happy grandpa Yoongi day! 

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next

Tag List: @kurochan3​ @mrcleanheichou​ @anonymous-armys-blog​ @alanasfashion

Blogs highlighted in bold could not be tagged. Please message me privately so we can resolve the problem and I can tag you next time ^^

      “Are you ready?” I asked Yunho, looking at him through the rearview mirror. Yunho nodded and unbuckled himself from his car seat as we got out of the car. Yunho hopped out and latched onto my arm, a gigantic smile on his cute face. 

      He had a skip in his step as we walked up to the daycare. We greeted Seohyun with a brief wave and I watched him as he navigated the walls on memory. Looking at the children’s artwork that lined the walls, smiling at some, looking in confusion at others. 

      Once we reached the classroom, Yunho gave it a tiny knock. Waiting patiently by my side, holding onto my hand. The door swung open to reveal a smiling Hyejin, which Yunho eagerly greeted with a hug that she reciprocated. “Imo!” He exclaimed, tail wagging furiously. “Hey bub!” She smiled, kissing his forehead. 

      Hyejin let him go and went to give me my hug, “You look tired,” She commented as she held me in her grasp. “Your observation would be correct.” I joked, causing Hyejin to chuckle and playfully hit my shoulder. “Come on in, it’s a rather small group today.” She said as she led us through the door. 

      As Hyejin said, it was a small group. About 11 kids were playing inside the room, all doing their own little things. “Imo... Where’s Hajun?” Yunho asked, ears sagging in disappointment. “He’s just in the bathroom, bub.” Hyejin explained, petting him on the head, which helped him cheer up. 

      “Well, hello again!” I heard a cheerful voice call. “Hello again, Hoseok,” I greeted with a smile, one that was dull compared to his blinding one. “It’s nice to see you again. You look nice!” He complimented, which I knew was a lie cause I looked like a bus hit me. Like (almost) every working single mom with a young boy. “Thank you,” I said nonetheless, genuinely appreciating his kindness.

       “Who’s this?” He asked, smiling at Yunho, who came to hug my side when Hoseok approached us. I reached down and picked Yunho up, carrying him on my side. “This is my son, Yunho,” I explained, and Yunho gave Hoseok a little wave. I saw Hoseok do a double take in his mind, which was the usual reaction. “Yunho? That’s an awesome name,” Hoseok said to Yunho, which made the hybrid boy smile. “Thank you,” He mumbled. 

      Hajun suddenly opened the door and Yunho jumped out of my arms to go play with his best friend. I smiled at him as he pulled Hajun to go play with the stuffed animals he spotted earlier. “I didn’t know you had a son.” Hoseok commented, “I thought Hyejin talks about me a lot?” I asked, remembering what he said the last time we spoke.

      He chuckled, “She does! But she never mentioned you had a son.” I sighed, unable to hide my smile. “Well, I do. He’s a cutie too.” Hoseok nodded in agreement. “Golden retriever hybrid, right? I’m surprised his dad let’s him keep his fur that long,” Hoseok commented, and I felt my mood dampen.

      Hoseok seemed to notice my change in demeanor, stumbling to backtrack over his words. “I-I mean it’s fine that he-” “Yunho’s doesn’t have a dad.” I stated, watching my son from afar as he and Hajun laughed and played together. “What?” Hoseok asked, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly. “Yunho doesn’t have a father. It’s always just been me and him. Since the very beginning.” I swallowed, trying to keep my composure. 

“I’m sorry...” Hoseok mumbled.

“It’s fine.” 

      I gave Hoseok the best smile I could muster and went over to bid my son goodbye. “Yunnie, I have to go now.” I said, and Yunho’s ears drooped a bit before he and Hajun got up to give me hugs. Yunho and Hajun took turns nuzzling their faces in the crook of my neck, and I pet them both on the head. “I love you baby,” I whispered to Yunho, taking in his ruffled hair, his button nose, and his freckles. His features taking me back in time like a time capsule. 

      A time where I was younger, dumber, more naïve. A time where I let people walk all over me. A time where I tricked myself into believing I was happy, happy in hell. “I love you too, Eomma.” Yunho whispered back to me, and I’m reminded that right now isn’t that time. That this is a time where Yunho and I take on the world, the both of us together. 

       “That was awkward as hell.” I groaned, hitting my head on the steering wheel. After I said goodbye to the boys, the air between Hoseok and I was... Thick. Thick with this aura of “I messed up. Shit.” If I had a knife with me, I would’ve cut the air between us. 

      Hoseok was obviously feeling bad about his comment. I could tell by the fact he was avoiding my eyes and was being extra careful about his words. He didn’t need to, but I didn’t want to embarrass the guy further by commenting on his apparent guilt. 

      What was I supposed to say, anyway? “Yeah, Yunho’s father is a deadbeat and any mention of him makes my blood boil in hatred that rivals that of the three furies.” That’s not something you say to a handsome German Shepard hybrid who looks like he’s ready to grovel at your feet.

      It surprised me that Hyejin’s blabber mouth didn’t slip that I’m a single mother of an adorable son named Yunho. She usually couldn’t keep a secret for the life of her unless it was really important. She couldn’t help but talk. Not like I minded that, I enjoyed listening to her blabbering. 

      Maybe she thought it was my information to tell? That’s a possibility. She respected my privacy, but she usually bragged about her second son to anyone who asked. So much to where people thought I was Yunho’s aunt, and not his mother. 

       Whatever the reason, now Hyejin’s coworker knows I’m a single mother to an amazing son who has a deadbeat father. What a resume. What a look that brings onto me. Human mom and hybrid son. He probably thinks I’m an incapable mother, seeing as he thinks Yunho’s fur is too long. 

      Is it too long? I’ve always advocated for Yunho doing what he wanted with his appearance as long as it wasn’t dangerous... Maybe we should get it cut? He wouldn’t like that... Is his fur being too long dangerous to him? God, I don’t know... I’m not a hybrid... Yoongi and Hyejin are cat hybrids, so they wouldn’t know. Namjoon is a wolf hybrid which, their fur isn’t THAT different, but enough that he couldn’t help. Jin’s a human... Maybe Hoseok is right?

      He’s the dog hybrid, after all. I mean, he’s not a Golden Retriever, but he must know a thing or two, right? Am I being a terrible mom? Should I bite the bullet and cut Yunho’s fur? No... Yes? I don’t know. God I, I just wish I could be better for him...

[bookwyrminspiration]

(pyro here! i feel like this is...very ramble-y and i apologize if this doesn't make sense, and no obligation to post if it all feels like i'm just going in circles or for any other reason)

this could just be me, but i find keeper to be so interesting in so many ways but mostly because of how little actual good guys and bad guys there are, if that makes sense? it doesn't seem like it on the surface, and the story seems rather clear-cut if you don't think about it too hard, but there's no character or group in the series that's completely perfect and hasn't done anything wrong ever, iirc? like, the council is very obviously not too pressed over whether their actions are morally right and they're the government of a species that's supposedly all about being righteous, and neither are the black swan nor neverseen, which i find really interesting to look at, especially when the protagonists start to realize these things and question them, outwardly or inwardly.

and even any developed individual characters aren't clear-cut. yes, sophie is our protagonist, but she's also an arsonist that frequently breaks the laws of her world and has nearly started a war by breaking a treated because she was curios as to what was in an ogre king's mind. linh is- well, she's the token nice asian girl, but she also flooded an entire city, twice, and has most definitely killed people. dex may not have done anything really wrong, but he still created the ability restrictor, a device that put his best friend through days/weeks of torment, all because he was happy to recieve attention from the council. and that's just three of the main characters.

and i'm under the impression you really don't care about the council (which is fine and totally valid!) but it's still so interesting how the three important characters from there follow this as well. oralie was revealed to be sophie's mother meaning she committed treason and should probably be in exile, kenric was actively hiding important information from oralie (and knew about her being sophie's mother and therefor was a willing accomplice to treason and should also be in exile), and bronte has gotten...better(?) in the later books? maybe?

i suppose im wishing that shannon will deliver on this in the future, but im not really getting my hopes up. sophie is very interesting, but the books have always framed her actions as the right ones to take, no matter how terrible the consequences could've been, and they definitely frame the rest of the "good guys" as, well, good people who do good things, which isn't exactly true in most cases. i just...i guess i find it really interesting. i'd also be interested to hear your thoughts on this! on the surface, keeper really does seem like a rather basic series, but it's cool how if you dig even just a little deeper you start getting messy.

hello pyro !! nothing to apologize for, I love rambling! and you are in luck because I happen to have so many thoughts about everything all of the time.

and I agree with you! When you first think of keeper—or at least when I do—I seems very black and white, even bland at times in terms of the interest of the characters and the aspects of their world. Especially when you’re an older reader and have since read more adult books with more complex characters. Which is common. Because these are middle grade series and there’s more limitations of what topics authors can reasonably cover. They’re being careful. Because their audience are young and impressionable and despite their best efforts may be influenced subconsciously. So they have to lay things out more clearly, explaining that actions are bad when adult readers can put that together themselves.

(I know there are a lot of younger people in this fandom so let me clarify: I am not saying you are incapable of critical thought. However, thorough analysis becomes easier with experience, and adults and older readers will often have more experience with this than you. We’ve also had more time to figure out our own opinions and morals. This is not meant to put you down, just remind you that there are inevitable differences between us).

Back to what you were saying, pyro, despite its appearance, when you take a closer look there’s actually not a lot of black and white—or at least not as much as you’d think. I know there’s a canon line where Sophie says something like “the Black Swan were…the good guys?” (paraphrased from the first book). Which makes sense because at this point in time she’s twelve, where it makes sense for her to have that very black and white mindset. Good and bad. Pleasant and unpleasant. it’s a very all nothing mindset, which I know I also had at that age. But as she’s grown older in the series, she’s thinking about things from a more mixed perspective. She’s bargaining with herself and deciding what’s worth what and if the consequences are worth the risks, making decisions she likely would’ve condemned earlier in her life. Like setting the storehouse on fire. That’s a very loaded and controversial decision from her. It’s neither good nor bad. It accomplishes something she wants—sending the Neverseen scrambling and setting them back—and she decided that was worth the consequences—burning potential information and doing something that might’ve been previously against her morals. It’s not the “right” decision to make. It’s just the decision she makes.

We see this a lot with Black Swan too. I’m actually going to bring their oath into this: “I will do everything in my power to help my world.” It seems simple and straightforward at first, but thinking about it, there’s no qualifications for what “help” means. And there’s no limit on what they’ll do, just that they’ll do it if they’re capable. This leaves it open for a lot of morally questionable decisions, like creating Sophie. Did creating Sophie help their world? She’s already started to make positive changes (like at Exillium) and she’s not done yet, so you could say yes she’s helping. And they were capable of bringing her into existence. So they did. It was in their power and it helped, so they did. Despite using Emma’s body, despite forcing Sophie into this situation.

with the Neverseen, they seem more like misguided anti-heroes (if I’m using that term right), doing “bad” things for “good” reasons. Fintan is making these bold statements and undermining the council, actions viewed as negative, to try and highlight the unfair discrimination in their system and reform it—a motive one could consider reasonable and positive.

as for the council, the most notable event this applies to is Sophie’s ability restrictor in Everblaze. This was not supported by everyone else, actively hurting out main protagonist, but their reasoning was generally sound. Sophie had already broken several laws at this point as was causing unrest in their society, the one they’re supposed to govern. And she’d used her abilities yet again to go against those rules, this time with incredible serious consequences. So if she refuses to listen, what do you do? Take away those abilities. Keep her from hurting this society further. There are more specific examples of this, like Oralie and Kenric’s cache, but this is getting long so i can talk about those later if you’d like /g

part of what is intriguing about these characters is how they’re not so black and white on the surface despite the world seeming to be so easily divided into good and bad, so it’s fascinating to talk about how those parts are actually displayed. You brought up a lot of really good topics and I love talking about this!! /g

if you’d like me to expand on any specific part more or have more thoughts of your own to share, you’re more than welcome to send another ask <33

[degenerate-otaku]

Au where the androids in trunks time arint evil anymore so the three of them just hang out for the rest of their lives time traveling with trunks to save the day after they realised what their doing is wrong somehow cause we need happier times

Hey! I took this in a slightly different direction since I just go with the flow.

I hope you enjoy it though ♡

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

It had been almost a year since the androids had come to an agreement to end their destruction. In some ways it was an anticlimactic ending to an almost 17 year battle. A part of me still wants to bring Gohan justice by destroying them, but that may just be my Saiyan side. I know that Gohan always did his best to be like his father and forgive others, so maybe he'd understand.

It's been a difficult journey, no doubt about it. To keep the androids happy, as well as the people of earth, who probably have not forgiven 17 and 18 and want nothing more to see them dead, I tend to go out with them, just to make sure there are no problems. The androids have to disguise themselves to not be recognised, which isn't too hard since they are incredibly inconspicuous (apart from 17 perhaps, who seems like the type of kid to be stealing and causing havoc anyway). Usually, it's just a case of them hiding their eyes, since that's how people can recognise them.

“Trunks, you really need to brush up on fashion.” 18 remarked as she sipped at her drink. I snapped out of my thoughts immediately, which often consume me.

“Huh? What do you mean?” I was rather offended by her comment but I kept my face and tone neutral.

“Well...you don't have many outfits...and the ones you do have are...” She looked me up and down and continued, “A little...dated to say the least.”

Before I could respond, 17, who was riding on his skateboard as he slurped at his soda interrupted, “Trunks, you look like that guy from that movie 'Back to the Future'.”

I had no clue on what he meant, since I've never seen that movie, but it seemed like no matter what I would say, they'd always have a comeback.

It had always been like that, so what was I expecting?

“Well, we are right outside a mall.” I knew what she was suggesting immediately.

'How convenient' I thought to myself.

“Sis, your shopping trips take whole days!”

I almost laughed at what 17 had said, but held back.

“Shut up! You spend all day in the arcade like a little kid! Plus, you need new clothes too!” 18 poked her brother in the chest, asserting her authority. It's so strange to see 17 shaken like that. As a kid he seemed unmoved by everything, just like his sister.

“Ugh, whatever.” He sighed, throwing the empty cup of soda in the trash.

Strolling casually within the recently rebuilt mall, which my mother helped to fund, 18 finally found a store that she thought had good items for us.

“This place looks lame!” 17 sneered at all the rather classy looking shirts and pants.

“If you're gonna be a brat, go to Hot Topic!” 18 retorted, pointing to the store she was referencing.

“Bitch, I AM the Hot Topic!” 17 loudly declared, walking off. I wasn't sure on how much money he had. The androids liked living large, and still did so, despite my mother not being so pleased about it. She told me once on how it was like she now had three teenage brats but then she realised I was right there and said that I wasn't a brat, though I know I was when I was younger.

“Now that he's out of the way...” 18 sighed, adjusting her hair, before pulling out a shirt from a rack.

“What do you think?” She asked, holding up a blue T-shirt that said something in Japanese.

“See, you gotta stop hiding those muscles! I've seen them up close and I know normal girls will faint over that, especially with your skin tone.”

My cheeks felt hot when she said that and I began to stammer, “W-well..I don't think it's for me...uh, I...don't like showing my arms.” I looked down at the glossy marble floor, and felt her gaze pierce me.

“What, because of those scars?” She scoffed and I looked up at her, not knowing how to react.

“They aren't that bad. Plus...girls like guys who have feelings and have been through stuff.” I didn't get what she meant.

“For a person who hates humans, you sure do understand them.” I don't know why I said that. She frowned and then just moved on, after putting the blue shirt in the basket, whether I liked it or not.

“So...” She tried to steer the conversation back onto clothes, “What do you like wearing anyway?”

“Well...mostly loose, comfortable stuff.” I answered.

“Yeah, like that sweater and pants you used to wear all the time when you were like...what, 13? 14?”

Why had she remembered that?

“Yeah...I have a lot of those kinda outfits.” She walked along to another aisle and I followed, not noticing that there were a few girls looking at me and giggling.

“What made you pick this one? The whole...jacket and vest combo. You wore a similar thing when we beat your ass a year or two ago...wasn't that in the ruins of this mall?”

I felt pain thinking about that. I was a fool, admittedly for going there to try fight them, but I've grown a lot since then.

“Oh...yeah, the light blue jacket and white shirt...uh, I guess I think it looks cool..especially with the sword-”

“Ughhh, what is it with men and their little toys, I've got my brother with his stupid gun, and you with that sword!” She groaned. “They're pointless!”

“Well...technically, my sword has a point-” I smirked.

“Wow, I thought you were incapable of jokes.” She replied, then pulled out a sweatshirt for me. It was a simple grey colour with a logo on it.

“Girls also like guys who dress casual...but that sorta depends. This and some nice loose jeans would look good on you, though you'd need better shoes.” I was rather astonished at how she was able to make so many combinations and knew what would look good on me, but then I realised something.

“Why do you keep trying to find outfits that would attract girls?”

She rolled her eyes at my question.

“Well, c'mon you're almost an adult and you haven't got a girlfriend! Wait...are you gay?”

I blushed hard. “What? Well, I dunno! I haven't really thought about it...”

“I'm just trying to help you find someone.” She smiled, trying to find a price tag on some shoes.

“Wait a sec, I'll ask someone about this.” She left me standing near the basket and as I fixed my hair in while I looked in the mirror, two girls came up to me.

“Hey, uh, you're cute...can I have your number?” One said and I was unsure of what to say. I didn't want to be rude, but I wasn't sure I wanted to talk to them.

“Well, uh, you see-” My brain suddenly seemed to fail me.

“He's taken.” Suddenly, 18 reappeared and out of nowhere kissed me before dragging me by the arm.

“Hey! What was that?!” The kiss was only for a split second but I was so confused.

“Wait, was I your first kiss?” She laughed.

“N-no!” I folded my arms and didn't look at her directly.

“If I didn't know better you wanted it to last longer, hm?”

“WHAT?!” I exclaimed, losing my cool.

“Hey, I'm just messing with you...I just had to get you out of there-” She picked up the basket and walked over to the queue, her hips swaying prominently

“The kiss was unnecessary!”

“You're the first man ever to reject a kiss from me.” She sounded bewildered and I gave up trying.

We exited the store with two bags of clothes and 17 had a bag of his own stuff too.

“So, mind telling me what that was?” 17 inquired and even 18 blushed a little.

"Aww, what an adorable couple!“ He mocked, laughing hard at his own jokes.

”Shut it, bonehead! That meant nothing!“ She scolded him and I don't know why I felt hurt by that.

”I was just trying to make him look good for once, but I really couldn't care less!“ She continued and I wondered if she had even meant what she said about my scars.

For the rest of the day I couldn't stop thinking about that moment. It's stupid of me, I know. I'm so fucking awkward I can't handle a girl talking to me, and when a person I hated growing up does it to me, I want it to happen again, to feel that kinda jolt down my body.

But I guess I won't.