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spookyboywhump · 5 years

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Daniel

I wanted to write some things about Zander before Wren came along, early on in his time with Cain, so here’s the very beginning. I plan to write several things like this but mostly not chronological, though this one and the next one planned are directly connected, and probably the only ones that will refer to him as Daniel still.

TW for guns (well, one)

***

“So uh, what made you want this one so bad sir?” A voice asked, and Daniel winced at the sound. Everything was too loud right now, the voices around him, the hum of fluorescent lights, the click of a lighter. He wished it would just stop for a moment.

“With his father out of the picture, the poor boy would need somewhere to go. I thought I’d put him to some good use.” Footsteps approached him, Daniel groaned softly and squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold. He wished his head would stop pounding so he could think straight.

“Of course… er, what kind of use do you want him trained for, sir?” A different voice asked, this one more feminine. He tried to pull away when the footsteps stopped close to him, but a hand tangled in his hair and forced him to sit up, causing him to whimper behind the cloth shoved between his teeth. The blindfold was removed, he squinted as the bright lights overhead nearly blinded him. His vision wasn’t quite clear yet, he couldn’t make out the face of the man holding him. Now that he was sitting up on his own, the man released his hair, grabbing his chin instead.

“Just general use. He’s a pretty thing, but I don’t think Cain will want him for that.” The man said casually, turning his head side to side as he inspected his face.

“Yes sir.” She replied. “We’ll keep you updated on his progress, he should be ready within the next few months.”

“The next week, actually.” He corrected. Daniel was finally able to get a good look at him as his eyes adjusted. He was vaguely familiar, he swore he’d seen his face before. He was a somewhat older man, dark haired with icy blue eyes, a cigarette in his mouth. Daniel decided he did not like the way he looked at him at all.

“I’m sorry, excuse me?” The man standing behind him asked. There was a woman next to him, she gave him a look when he spoke up.

“The next week.” He repeated. “I want him ready in that time.” He let go of him finally, taking the cigarette from his mouth and exhaling smoke right into his face, almost sending him into a coughing fit.

“With all due respect sir, that’s impossible.” The woman said. “It will take at least a month to even break him, more than that to properly retrain him.”

“And I want it done within a week.” He said sternly, finally getting to his feet. “I’ll be back for him then, so you better get started.” He told them, walking past them to the open door.

“Yes sir.” She said, and the man echoed her, though he seemed less pleased about it. They waited till the door was shut and the man was long gone to speak up again though, talking as if Daniel wasn’t even there.

“Fucking son of a bitch… just because he orders it doesn’t mean we can make it happen!” The man said, clearly frustrated.

“We’ll have to try.” The woman sighed, arms crossed over her chest. “We’ll start on him now and see how far we get within the week. Whitaker might have to take him as is though.”

Whitaker, there was a name he knew. Of course he’d recognized the man’s face, well known businessman, probably the richest person in the city, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was one of the richest in the world. He didn’t know a whole lot about him, he knew his father hated him though, talked about how he was a “terrible fucking bastard”- and his father didn’t swear often. He wouldn’t go into detail, told him it was one of those “I’ll tell you when you’re older” kind of things, but Daniel didn’t really know how much older he’d have to be given he was already eighteen. He tried not to think too hard about his father right now, as terrified as he was, he didn’t want to cry in front of these strangers.

He was confused, and awfully anxious, and he wanted answers, but he only got more panicked when they finally turned their attention to him. The woman approached him, kneeling down in front of him and putting her hands on his face.

“I’m going to remove the gag. Can you promise you won’t start screaming at me?” She asked calmly. She seemed like she’d done this a thousand times before, the thought turned his stomach. He nodded quickly though, thankful for the tiniest bit of freedom. She reached behind his head, untying the cloth and pulling it from his mouth. Despite the gross, dry feeling in his mouth, he immediately started talking.

“Where am I? And who are you? What- why am I here?!” He asked, trying his hardest to keep his voice steady.

“Calm down, pup.” She ordered, and though he hated what she called him he did shut his mouth. “You were a special request from Mr. Whitaker, we’re going to get you ready for him. If you can learn to behave, this training should go smoothly, understand?”

“What… what do you mean by training? What am I being trained /for/?” He asked. He knew he needed to stay calm enough to get some answers, freaking out would get him nowhere.

“To be a good dog of course.” She said it as if it were obvious. “You’re a gift actually, for his son. We need to make sure you turn out perfect.” Each word just made him sicker, his heart hammering in his chest. None of this made sense, why him, what did she mean by “dog”? He wanted to keep shooting off questions but she didn’t seem interested in hearing it. “Sam, would you get the collar for me?” She asked, and the man did as she said, going to a table pushed up against the wall. He came back with an odd silver band, and he caught sight of two prongs on the inside of it. He handed it to the woman, but as soon as she got close Daniel pushed himself away from her. She looked almost disappointed at that. “Now hold still, there’s no use running.” She told him.

“I’m not wearing a fucking shock collar!” He yelled at her, eyes wide with fear. “I’m not a fucking animal!”

“You are though. You’re nothing but a dog, a stupid little pup and we’re going to have you trained to be a good boy whether you like it or not.” She motioned to the man with one hand and he grabbed ahold of Daniel by the hair, holding him in place. The woman got close to him again, still on her knees though and he took this opportunity to defend himself. His wrists may have been bound but his ankles weren’t, and as soon as she was close enough he kicked hard, his foot hitting her square in the nose.

It felt like a small victory to him when she cried out, jumping to her feet before she could lose her balance. She held a hand over her nose at first, but when she pulled it away he saw she was bleeding profusely. He was satisfied until she recovered from the shock, her eyes narrowing.

“You shouldn’t have done that, kid.” The man sighed, his grip on him tightening. She seemed to disregard the bloody, possibly even broken nose, and stormed over to that table, snatching something up. She returned with a baton, the kind he’d seen police carry. He didn’t have a chance to brace himself before she cracked him across the face with it, he swore he blacked out for a moment as pain exploded in his jaw.

Now that he was thoroughly stunned she forced the silver band around his throat, locking it in place despite his struggles. He was finally released now that it was secured, Sam coming to stand by the woman while Daniel pushed himself farther back from them, his back hitting the wall. She seemed like she was struggling to control herself, looking at Daniel with a fury in her eyes that genuinely scared him.

“Give him five shocks while I go clean up, understand?” She ordered him, handing him a small remote before turning around to leave the room. His stomach dropped when she said it, his only experience with being “shocked” aside from static shocks was one of those joke pens his friend had zapped him with a few times. He had a feeling this would be so much worse though.

“I’m surprised she didn’t wanna watch.” Sam murmured, looking over the small remote even though it only had one button on it.

“W-wait! Please, please don’t, I- I can’t-”

“Too late. Shouldn’t have tried to fight back.” He shrugged. “Hopefully this will teach you a lesson.” With that he pressed the button, Daniel’s body seizing painfully as the electricity shot through him. His scream was almost strangled, he couldn’t even think through the pain. It ended just as quick as it started though, he slumped back against the wall and tried to catch his breath. “We’re not done yet.” The man reminded him.

He screamed even louder on the second shock, and on the third his jaw locked shut, he involuntarily bit down on his tongue which only added to the agony. On the fourth he swore this would kill him, he was surprised to even make it to the fifth. Sam let the final one last a little bit longer, turning it off as the woman returned to the room. Daniel was choking back tears at this point, he refused to cry in front of them but his tongue was bleeding and his whole body ached from the shocks, not to mention the pain in his jaw. He didn’t see the point in all this, but he was also too afraid to keep asking questions.

She looked at him, taking in the sight of him almost cowering against the wall, blinking back tears as he watched them, and she grinned.

“I suggest you get used to that collar you fucking mutt.”

***

“My name is Daniel Alexander King… I’m eighteen years old… I am not a dog…” He murmured to himself, over and over again as he tried to stay sane.

When he wasn’t being tortured in the training room, they left him alone in a pitch black cell. He hadn’t slept once since he’d woken up here, whatever they’d injected in him made sure of that. His eyes burned and his head hurt, even bound behind his back his hands were shaking. Sam and that woman- who he learned was named Andrea- had been trying to drill it into him that he didn’t have a name, that was up to his “owner” to decide, and he refused to give in to their brainwashing. He figured that talking to himself, and repeating phrases over and over again wasn’t exactly the most “sane” thing to do, but it made sure he didn’t forget who he was, and that was most important to him.

The worst part about being kept awake was that he wasn’t able to ever escape his own thoughts. He replayed the scene in his head over again whether he liked it or not, returning to his house late and finding his father, dead on the floor, he couldn’t get the sight out of his head, there had been so much blood. He couldn’t remember if he had fainted or if he’d been knocked out, all he knew was that he blacked out around then and woke up here, wherever here was. He knew there were others apparently, but he was getting “special treatment” since he’d been requested by Mr. Whitaker. Apparently he was paying good money for him and it made him miserable to even think about that, being sold like an object to somebody.

All of this seemed so unreal to him, days ago he was a perfectly normal person. He’d spent the whole day out with his group of friends, he had plans for the whole summer before him and his friends split off to different schools, he was supposed to move across the city to live with his mom, he was supposed to start school in the fall, he had been so excited to get into his top choice for college, and all of that was just gone. In a matter of hours it had been ripped from him for no reason and while he was scared, and anxious, and upset, he was more than anything incredibly fucking angry.

Maybe it was the stress and lack of sleep that was irritating him, making him angrier than he’d ever been in his life. He shouldn’t be here, he knew he shouldn’t, no one should, and the helplessness of the situation was just upsetting him more, to the point he could almost cry. At least, he could if he hadn’t already cried himself out completely in that dark cell, his sobs had bounced off the cement walls, the only sound to keep him company until he finally couldn’t cry anymore.

His eyes burned, and his head was pounding. He was exhausted, cold, hungry and scared, and he just needed to stay sane.

“My name is Daniel Alexander King… I’m eighteen years old… I am not a fucking dog…”

***

His week was up and he wasn’t quite sure what would happen now. Mr. Whitaker wanted him broken and trained to perfection, and while he was different now, he was probably even worse than the man would’ve wanted.

A week of beatings, electrocutions, sleep deprivation and starvation had not made him obedient and docile. It had only made him angry. No matter what they told him, no matter what they tried to take from him, he resisted with everything he could. What did he have to lose? Mr. Whitaker wanted him specifically, they wouldn’t kill him and risk upsetting him, so he made it as difficult as possible to train him. He knew it would only hurt him more, but their frustration was just another small victory to him.

His week was up and he now sat on his knees, staring at the papers before him. His hands would only be freed if he agreed to sign them and “willingly” go with Mr. Whitaker. Apparently it was more of a formality thing, he felt like it would be used against him later though. They wanted it done before Mr. Whitaker arrived so they could quickly be rid of him but he had stubbornly refused, sitting there silently and staring at the floor.

Both of them seemed anxious, Andrea more frustrated than Sam though. She was pacing the room, occasionally looking to Daniel and asking if he was ready to give in. The answer was always no.

“This wouldn’t be a fucking problem if he had given us more time!” Sam groaned, running a hand through his hair. “We told him it was impossible!”

“I didn’t expect him to be this stubborn.” She sighed, once again speaking about Daniel as if he wasn’t even there. “The stubborn ones always get worse before they get better, and he’s stuck at his worst.”

“Try explaining that to Whitaker, I don’t think he even cares about the risk.” Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s his damn fault we couldn’t get it done, I guess he’ll just have to take… that.” He motioned to Daniel who scowled at him.

The three of them were all startled by the knock on the door, Sam and Andrea sharing a look before it was opened, Mr. Whitaker entered the room. That fear was creeping up on Daniel again, something about this man made him terribly anxious, there was just something wrong with him, aside from everything going on here that is.

“Well, is he ready?” He asked, looking between the two.

“He’s… well…” Sam started, but Andrea interrupted.

“We need more time sir, please. He’s nowhere near ready and he’s going through the more stubborn phase. He’s not going to sign those papers and he’s not going to go easily.” She explained. He expected some kind of anger judging by how they were acting, but Whitaker just sighed, approaching Daniel specifically now.

“Honestly, what did I even pay you two for…” he murmured, stopping in front of where Daniel sat. “You, mutt. You’re going to sign those papers, and then you’ll be leaving with me, understand?”

“No I fucking won’t.” Despite his fear he kept his voice steady, looking him in the eye as he spoke. He saw a flash of something on the man’s face, amusement almost, and he reached to his hip.

Daniel had never seen a real gun up close before, and now there was one pressed against his forehead. All at once that defiance disappeared, fear almost strong enough to stop his heart replacing it. His eyes went wide, he hadn’t considered the thought of Whitaker killing him. He had even less to lose than Daniel, if he killed him he could just find another victim, throw somebody else at his kid, Daniel was just unlucky in this situation.

“Let’s try this again.” He said, a sickening grin on his face. “You’re going to sign those papers and you’re going to leave with me, or else you’re going to end up just like your dear old dad. It’s your choice I suppose, but you better make up your mind fast.”

Daniel didn’t want to know what waited for him if he agreed to this, but he also really, really didn’t want to die. The thought scared him more than anything, and right now that was the only alternative. Right now, that is. If he agreed, he reasoned, not only would he be spared, but maybe he’d find a way out of all this. He’d find some way to escape, or call for help, just something other than death. It would be stupid to refuse at this point, he’d defied them all as long as he safely could and now he had to give in.

He told himself it was because it was the smart thing to do, because he would surely escape whatever hell was planned for him, this would not last forever. He told himself this and tried not to focus on the pressure against his forehead, meeting the man’s eyes as best he could.

“Okay. I’ll sign.”

#whump #my writing #my oc's #Zander #Andrea #Sam #Charles Whitaker #conditioning #dehumanization #tw gun #shock collars #electrocution #defiant whumpee

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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wild flower, chapter one (shalaska) 1/10 - freyja

A/N: Hi! This is my first time posting here, so please be gentle! All I know is that no one was going to write my shalaska cowboy AU for me. Also if anyone is interested in betaing… please. Let me know.

🌼

“Wild women are an unexplainable spark of life. They ooze freedom and seek awareness, they belong to nobody but themselves, yet give a piece of who they are to everyone they meet. If you have met one, hold on to her, she’ll allow you into her chaos, but she’ll also show you her magic.”

🌼

Alaska has always been fascinated with bandits.

Bandits, criminals, gangs - anyone with a bounty on their head. Not that the bounty or even the criminality of it all attracted her - no, it was the freedom.

Alaska has also always been wealthy.

These two constants do not go well together.

As a child, the contrast was easier to navigate, as her only duties were her lessons, and the rest of her time was spent however she wanted to spend it. Her wildness was enacted through imaginary horses and people to shoot, drawing from the tales of her father’s friends from the West. She had grass stains on her skirts constantly, and although her mother berated her for her unladylike play, it could be chalked up to just that: play.

As she got older, the contrast was too much. She was in polite society, she needed to find a husband, and she was the lady of the household. She had to give up one, wealth or freedom, and only one made sense to let go of. It wasn’t a hard choice, anyway - she’d stopped believing in running wild on the frontier somewhere around her mother’s death.

Which is why, when her father tells her she’ll be visiting her uncle in Colorado for the summer, the thrill she might have gotten as a child is absent in the place of a sickening dread that sits in her stomach like a dead weight.

“He’s invited you,” he’d said to a stunned Alaska over breakfast one morning. “And I thought you could use the fresh air - God knows this city is starting to smell now that it’s thawing.”

Alaska had pressed her lips together, frowning at him. “I don’t–”

“I told him you would love to go,” her father had interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “This is a great way to find someone wealthy to marry, since the options here clearly aren’t up to your standards.”

The snide comment hadn’t gone past her, and she’d lapsed back into silence, unable to argue and tell him that her ‘standards’ won’t ever be met, so tough luck. That wasn’t an option, especially considering her father’s newspaper wasn’t selling as much now that the war was over.

This visit is her last chance to find a husband wealthy enough to make it worth it, and she knows that she needs to return to her father with a ring on her finger.

Now, she sits on the train to Coady, heart heavy with her resolution. She looks out the window to take her mind off of the sick feeling in her stomach, clenching her fist in the folds of her skirt. It’s easy to get lost in the pale browns and greens of the plains, easy to feel comfort in the mountains that look blue in the distance. It’s easier to think that maybe she’ll find a man she really loves if he comes from a place that looks like this.

She nearly laughs at herself. Unlikely.

🌸

Alaska has been in Colorado a week, and there has been no mention of a ball, or even of a dinner. She hasn’t seen another person besides her uncle and his servants - and even then, it’s mostly been his servants. If it isn’t mealtime, her uncle is locked in his office, going over papers and sending out letters at least twice a day.

Alaska has picked up enough of the servants’ whispered gossip to understand that his plantation has been slowly going under in the eight years it’s been since the war, and her uncle has now been reduced to scraping the bottom of the barrel for his income. She isn’t sympathetic - it’s deserved.

Things, however, are getting a little boring.

She sighs, turning over in bed and staring at the stars through the large window in her room, the wind blowing the linen curtains in a hypnotizing manner. Three months of nothing, and she won’t even get a husband out of it.

No husband. She allows herself a moment to pretend like it was a possibility, something like longing trapping itself in her throat.

She’s just closing her eyes to sleep when the sound of a horse galloping towards the house makes them shoot open, a man shouting her uncle’s name as the horse’s hoofbeats slow to a stop.

“Thunder!” the man bellows. He begins pounding on the door, each knock seemingly louder than the last. “Philip Thunder, get your ass out here!”

Alaska slips out of bed, heart pounding, and kneels beside the window. She’s at a decent enough angle that she can see the man clearly, his horse standing a few feet behind him. It’s hard to see in the darkness, but it’s clear he isn’t a gentleman, with a dusty gallon hat on his head that shields his face and a dirty jacket to match. There’s a long rifle hooked onto his horse, and her eyes widen at the sight.

The door swings open, and her uncle emerges with a lantern, looking hunted. “Be quiet!” he snaps in a hushed whisper, and Alaska has to strain to hear him. “You’re going to wake the whole household.”

“They know,” the man says simply, ignoring her uncle. He has a thick accent, and it’s jarring next to her uncle’s harsh New York vowels. Her uncle’s arm sags at the news, lowering the lantern so that their faces are barely lit. Alaska hisses in frustration, narrowing her eyes to try and read their expressions.

“Needles?” her uncle says, voice even quieter. Alaska risks poking her head out the window a little bit in order to hear better, holding her breath in fear of being caught.

“No, the fuckin’ Pope,” the man sneers. “Who the fuck else?”

Her uncle’s response is drowned out by the locusts buzzing in the trees. There’s a long period of silence, and Alaska can hear her heart beating in her ears, adrenaline running through her veins in response to listening to a conversation she shouldn’t. What the hell was going on?

“So?” the man prompts, stepping closer to her uncle. “What do you suggest we do?”

There’s a pause as her uncle visibly takes a breath. “Come here tomorrow at supper,” he says, voice a little stronger now. “Bring Solomon. We can make a plan then.”

“Didn’t you hear me? Needles is onto us, which means–”

“I know!” Her uncle snaps, posture stiffening. “Trust me, I’m well aware. I can’t make a plan right now. Give me a day, and we’ll discuss the rest tomorrow. I promise we’ll get out of this.”

“If we don’t,” the man says, voice low, “Needles isn’t the one you need to watch out for.” And with that, he steps back, walking back to his horse. “Expect us at six,” he says as he swings up on his horse, and with that, he gallops away, leaving a trail of dust in his wake. Her uncle stands there for a long time, staring in the direction he went even after he’s no longer visible. All Alaska can hear is the locusts’ chirping.

Her uncle, finally, turns to go inside, and she ducks under the window sill as the lantern light swings over the side of the house. She listens as he opens the door, muttering something incomprehensible, and shuts it behind him. The stairs creak as he returns to his room, and she doesn’t let herself relax until she hears his door close quietly.

She sags against the wall, brushing the hair sticking to her face away and plucking at her nightgown, battling the humidity and her own sweat. She looks at the bed, but she doesn’t think she’s going to be able to sleep, not with the heat and certainly not after what just happened.

It was a gang. It couldn’t be anything else - it wasn’t any sort of legal business, judging by the other man’s appearance. Her uncle was dealing with bandits and criminals, probably to help him out of whatever debt he’s put himself into in order to keep this place afloat.

A fission of excitement runs through her even through the fear and apprehension, and she can’t help but think that at least something is happening. Even if it’s putting everyone in the house’s lives at risk.

You can’t trust a bandit. They’re lawless, and the law exists for a reason: to keep people sane. Who knows what these men will do to her uncle if this Needles ends up finding them?

Who knows what Needles is going to do to them if he ends up finding them?

The thrill is fading away now, giving way to real fear. This is real. Bandits are real, but they’re not like what Alaska dreamed them up to be as a child. They kill people, innocent or not, and they steal whatever they want. They live like animals and call it freedom.

They’re all these things, and they’re coming to dine with them at her uncle’s like they’re family friends.

Alaska is definitely not getting any sleep tonight.

🌼

Dinner is awkward.

It’s spent in silence, the dirty, roughed up men clearly unsure of how to behave at a proper dining table and her uncle silent with embarrassment over it. There are four of them, all with scruffy beards and pistols on their belts, with the clear leader sitting to her uncle’s right.

One of the men coughs, and Alaska jumps at the sudden noise.

“Jesus,” she mutters to herself, ignoring her uncle’s sharp look and instead setting down her fork. She looks at Philip, plastering as pleasant and unassuming a smile she can muster over her face. “May I be excused?”

The leader of the group, Cassidy, slumps in relief. “Thank God,” he says loudly, and she recognizes his voice as the man her uncle had spoken to last night. “We can get some business done.”

Her uncle gives him a disbelieving look, and Alaska tries to look like she doesn’t have a clue as to what he’s talking about. Cassidy raises his hands in silent apology, and her uncle sighs, rubbing his eyes. He looks stressed out of his mind.

“You can go, Alaska,” he says, having lost any sense of decorum with Cassidy’s language.

Alaska nods at him, and then she’s out of the dining room in a second.

She slips out the door with a quiet notice to one of the servants, intent on walking her anxieties out around the grounds and hoping that she’ll tire herself out to the point of becoming calm. With half a mind to ride a little before the sun sets, she decides to head towards the stables, well away from anything happening inside the house.

Expecting to be alone once she reaches the stables, Alaska nearly screams as she runs into a woman leaning against one of the stalls, petting Poundcake’s nose.

“Jesus!” Alaska yelps, and the woman snaps to attention, hand at her hip in the blink of an eye. She lets her hand hover there, eyes wary as she stares at Alaska.

“I’m so sorry,” Alaska says, raising her hands up in apology. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The woman frowns at her, seemingly confused. Her hand drifts away from her hip, and Alaska’s eyes follow it, briefly distracted by the tight pants she’s wearing. It’s scandalous, and Alaska is beginning to understand why.

“I really didn’t mean to interrupt,” Alaska says into the tense silence, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from the woman’s hips and to her face.

“Interrupt?” The woman asks, still frowning. She’s relaxing, however, and Alaska feels strangely gratified by it.

“Your stable work,” Alaska says. “You’re the stablehand, right?”

The woman’s eyebrows twitch up before her lips twist up into a smirk. The expression suits her. “Right. Well, I’m not bothered.” She gives Alaska a clear once over, her smirk only growing. “Not at all.”

Alaska feels a flush crawl up her neck, her dress suddenly feeling a little warm. “Great,” she says, awkward. “I came - I just needed to get out of the house.”

“Let me guess: a man?”

Alaska snorts, even as the reminder makes something unpleasant churn in her stomach. “More like several.” The woman just smiles, revealing a small gap between her teeth. It’s strangely endearing. Alaska quickly shoves the thought away, afraid of it leading to more dangerous ones, and instead takes the opportunity to examine the woman’s strange outfit.

She looks more like a cattle rustler than a stablehand, with her wide brimmed hat and dark overcoat, but Alaska supposes things are different out west. Her hair is down, reaching the middle of her shoulder blades and blowing attractively in the wind. It’s so dark that, when paired with her dark hat, her face appears almost ghostly.

She’s beautiful, with her high cheekbones and plump lips, but there’s something about her that puts Alaska on edge.

“What?” the woman says, tilting her head. “Is there something on my face?”

“You’re beautiful,” Alaska blurts out, and then her heart stops. “I mean no, wait, no, I mean–”

“What’s your name?” the woman cuts in, and Alaska grabs onto the question like a lifeline.

“Alaska,” she says in relief.

“Pleasure,” the woman says, smirking again. There’s a brief pause before she lets out a huff of laughter. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

Alaska laughs. “Knowing the stablehands isn’t exactly my priority,” she says, allowing her own smirk to come through. “But now it seems like it should have been.”

The woman smiles slowly, her expression softening. Alaska feels something flutter in her stomach at the thought that she may have caused the shift. “You sure know how to flatter a girl,” the woman says. There’s a moment in which she just looks at Alaska, eyes darting across her face. “Sharon Needles.”

Alaska’s heart stops, smirk falling off of her face in an instant. “Needles?” she repeats faintly, even though Sharon had been perfectly clear. “You’re Needles? I thought–”

“I was a man?” Sharon says archly, annoyance flickering across her face. “You’re not the first.”

“Your poster,” Alaska says slowly, feeling incredibly stupid. The stablehand? Really? “It was hanging at the train station.”

Sharon sighs, eyes rolling up to the sky. “Stupid,” she mutters, seemingly to herself, and then, louder: “I’ll never rob an artist again. Those bastards have no fucking money and an eye for detail.”

“I don’t know, that chin is pretty memorable,” Alaska says before she can think about it, and there’s a second of frozen shock before Sharon starts to laugh.

“I like you,” Sharon says approvingly. “You’ve got balls.”

Alaska really, really shouldn’t be flattered. “Thanks,” she drawls, and she takes a step back. Her sense of danger is heightening, despite Sharon’s calm and her surprising humor. With the stories Alaska had heard, she had pictured bandits to be no-nonsense men with hearts of steel, cold blooded killers and thieves that were too good to be caught. Sharon doesn’t seem to be fitting any of those descriptors.

She should really run, warn her uncle while she still has some time. But some sick part of her is intrigued, attracted to this woman, and she can’t bring herself to shout like she should.

“Why are you here?” she asks again, even though she already knows the answer.

“We have some business with Mr. Solomon ____” Sharon says, and it’s like a curtain’s been drawn over her face. The twinkle in her eyes has turned into something like a spark of anger. “He’s been plotting something, and I intend to nip it in the fucking bud.” She shifts a little, her coat moving to reveal a leather holster at her hip. It feels like the air gets twenty degrees colder.

Alaska feels like she can barely breathe. She takes a step back.

The ‘Solomon isn’t here’ gets caught in her throat, another part of the sentence catching her attention. “‘We’?”

A slow smirk spreads across Sharon’s face. “Oops,” she says. “I’ve always had a hard time keeping secrets.” And quick as a rattlesnake, she draws her pistol and fires it once into the air. Alaska flinches violently at the sound of it, breath coming in strange stutters as adrenaline rushes through her. A responding gunshot sounds somewhere in the distance, along with growing shouts.

Alaska runs.

She flies up the hill, Sharon’s laugh chasing her like some sort of nightmare, whoops and hollers echoing off of the valley walls from all directions. She’s halfway to the house when a horse suddenly shoots past her, and she trips over her skirt in shock, falling to her hands and knees with a painful jolt. She looks up to see Sharon riding it, heading somewhere to the left of the house.

It’s stupid to feel betrayed. She’d talked to Sharon for less than ten minutes, and Sharon hadn’t even tried to hide who she was. Hell, Alaska had given her the only lie she told.

It’s stupid, and Alaska shoves the feeling aside. There are more important things to be worrying about.

She scrambles to her feet and keeps running, ignoring the temptation to flee the other way.

She bursts into the house, turning and slamming the door shut behind her, locking it. She turns to see her uncle, Cassidy, and the other men all emerging from the office, guns drawn and looking hunted.

“Alaska?” her uncle says, frowning. “Did you see something out there?”

“No,” she lies, because she can’t tell him that she was too fucking entranced by Sharon Needles to do anything. “But I heard something.”

“We all fucking heard something,” one of the men snaps, referring to the sound of pounding hooves, and distant shouts surrounding the house.

“Jesus Christ,” Cassidy says, pointing his gun alternately between the windows and the door. He sounds accusatory, like he blames her uncle for what’s going down, and Alaska finds herself half agreeing.

She shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t - her uncle shouldn’t have invited her here when he was at risk. It was - it was wrong. Anger boils up within her, and it feels better than fear, so she grabs onto it. “What were you guys even doing?” she cries.

Her uncle looks at her, wide eyed. He looks guilty, but Alaska is far past forgiveness, not when gunshots can be heard just outside the house. “I’m sorry, Alaska,” he says, brow furrowed. “I didn’t think it would get this out of hand.”

“You had wanted criminals over for dinner,” Alaska snaps. “How can you - how - ?” She’s tripping over her words, just like she always does when she’s upset, and it’s only making her angrier.

Her uncle grimaces, but before he can respond a sudden pounding on the door has everyone falling into a tense silence. The hoofbeats have stopped - it’s completely silent. They all point their guns at the door.

“Open up, motherfuckers!” a voice shouts.

Someone shoots the lock off, and the door slowly swings open. They all wait with baited breath. Cassidy steps forward, lining his gun up. Alaska takes several steps back, nearly going into the office, breathing so hard she feels like she’s going to be sick.

There are two beats of silence.

Her uncle frowns, gun lowering a little in his confusion. “Wh–”

Two deafening shots echo from the windows on either side of them, shattering the glass, and two of the five men drop dead. Alaska can’t help the scream she lets out, flinching wildly.

“Fuck!” Cassidy shouts, making an aborted attempt to go towards one of the bodies before remembering that he still needs to be on his guard. “Jesus shit!”

The door is kicked open suddenly, making Alaska jump. The woman that stands in the doorway is tall, with sharp features and an amused smirk. Alaska recognizes her from the other poster that had been beside Sharon’s, the unusual name catching her attention more than Sharon’s.

Detox.

“Where’s Solomon?” Detox says, pointing right back at Cassidy.

He doesn’t answer, and she takes another step forward. “I said–”

“He’s not here.” Sharon steps out from behind Detox, gun drawn and smug smirk still firmly in place. “He’s smarter than that.”

“Surprising,” Detox says, and Sharon snorts. She hasn’t bothered to raise her gun, and Alaska wants to scream at her uncle or the other man to do something.

“He wouldn’t be the annoyance that he is if he wasn’t.” Sharon says before pointing her gun at Alaska’s uncle almost lazily, like it had been an afterthought. It makes Alaska’s blood boil, both at Sharon’s arrogance and her uncle for feeding into it by being an idiot.

Sharon glances at the right window and jerks her head.

A shot rings out, and Cassidy’s last man drops nearly instantaneously with a cry of pain, and Alaska jumps again, unable to keep herself from squeaking, a little. It’s a harsh reminder of the steel trap that Sharon has them in, and Alaska hates that she needed her memory jogged.

Two women slide into the house through the windows, one hispanic and a little heavier, and the other white and stick thin, face covered in freckles. They both wear their hair in two braids, honey blonde and brown respectively, and they both look like they’re having the time of their lives.

“Alright,” Sharon says, using her gun to talk like an extension of her hand. Her blasé tone is disconcerting, and Alaska shrinks further into the office. “You’ve got two choices: tell us where Solomon is, or,” she holds up her gun and shrugs.

Both Cassidy and Alaska’s uncle remain silent, Cassidy staring Sharon in the face and her uncle twisting around to look at Alaska.

She wills him to turn back around, to stop drawing attention to her already mediocre hiding spot, but he starts to mouth something instead, nodding his head towards the office. After two times, she understands: burn it.

“What are you doing?” the woman with brown braids asks, voice harsher that Alaska would have guessed.

Sharon looks at her for the first time since she’s entered the house. Alaska feels frozen under her stare.

“Alaska!” her uncle snaps, and it works: she snaps out of it, adrenaline flooding her body and moving as quickly as she possibly can.

She steps back into the office and slams the door shut behind her, locking it with shaking hands. Terrifying shouts and bangs immediately start as soon as the lock slides into place, but they’re muffled, and Alaska knows she has limited time to do what her uncle needs before they find a way in.

She turns to the desk, eyes moving from place to place without direction before finally landing on the map lying across the desk, ink marks scattered all over it. She rushes to the desk to pick it up, and after a moment of examining it, she knows that what her uncle needs her to do is destroy it.

It’s a map detailing the location of a camp, presumably Solomon’s, and possible escape routes and alternate locations. If Sharon got her hands on this, the camp would be completely fucked. She would win whatever rivalry is going on between the two gangs with ease, and Solomon and her uncle would have no chance.

Alaska reaches for the lantern to burn the map in, but she hesitates. Would it be terrible if they got the map? It would end the rivalry, and it isn’t like her uncle isn’t already in as much danger as he could be in. He isn’t living in this camp, and Alaska couldn’t give a fuck about Solomon or Cassidy.

But does she want Sharon to win?

She stares at it, doing her best to memorize the map and the twisting ink paths. Keeping the map whole isn’t an option, but she thinks - she needs to have some leverage, here. If something should happen to her, who she wants to win regardless, she needs to have something that makes her useful.

She isn’t nearly as familiar with it as she’d like to be when a thud suddenly rattles the door to the office, making her jump nearly ten feet in the air. The door thuds again, the hinges rattling, and Alaska starts folding the map so that it can fit into the lantern, shoving it into the flame just as the door flies open and strong hands grab her from behind.

Alaska screams, kicking and trying to hit her assailant with her elbows.

“Jesus Christ,” someone hisses, and Alaska thinks she recognizes the voice as Detox’s. She flings her elbow back again, newly desperate, only to have it caught by one of Detox’s hands. Detox grabs her other arm as well, and Alaska’s arms are soon twisted around her back in such a way that she can’t move them no matter how hard she tries.

It’s utterly terrifying, and Alaska can’t help but let out a little sob as Detox forces her out of the office and into the parlor, where the brunette woman with the twin braids has Cassidy on his knees. Her uncle is nowhere to be seen.

“Where is–” she starts, voice growing into a shout, but Sharon cuts her off, her own tone surprisingly heated.

“Bastard got away,” she says, scowling. “I’m not sure how, considering how many of us there are, but he’s fucking gone.”

“Thank God,” Alaska says, relieved. She ignores the feeling of being abandoned. One of them had to get away, had to be able to get the law. It just happened to be him. “Thank fucking God.”

Sharon’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s no way a lady should speak,” she says, and the blonde woman snickers. Alaska glares at her.

“I’m not exactly going to give you the respect of polite society,” she snarls. “Now let me go!” She jerks fruitlessly at Detox’s grip, and Sharon laughs, coming closer. Alaska wants to hurt her, wants to make her feel as scared and angry as she is right now.

“We can’t let you go,” Sharon says, fake pouting. “Sorry. But your uncle had you do something in that office, and with him gone, you’re our only shot at finding out just what it was.”

Alaska falls silent, unable to think of a comeback that won’t put her at risk in one way or another. She needs to know something to prove herself too valuable to kill. But because she knows something, she’s going to be taken away. She’s stuck between a rock and a hard place, and Sharon is both Charbydis and Scylla.

Alaska settles for glaring at Sharon, who only grins back. Alaska does not think about how the gap in her teeth still makes her stomach flutter.

Sharon turns away, smile fading in favor of a more serious look. She looks at the brunette woman. “Morgan, shoot Cassidy. We need to leave.”

“What?” Cassidy splutters, eyes wide. Alaska is surprised to see him reduced to such a mess. “I don’t–”

“Shut up,” Sharon sneers, walking over to and kicking him in the stomach. He curls in on himself, wheezing, and Alaska winces in sympathy. “We don’t need to hear your side of the story. I’ve already heard three different girls’, and frankly, I’m exhausted.”

Morgan suddenly pistol whips Cassidy across the face, and he drops like a brick, groaning. She spits on him.

“Make it quick, Morgan,” Sharon says sharply. “The law’s already crawling up my ass as it is, and Thunder’s gonna return with the entire fucking Union.”

“No problem,” Morgan says, and she shoots him twice.

They’re not kind shots - one in the knee and the other in his stomach. The scream he lets out raises the hair on Alaska’s arms, and she feels a terror like she’s never known before. She thinks briefly about jerking away and running, but she feels rooted to the spot, staring down at Cassidy’s writhing body. Not like she’d actually escape Detox, anyway.

Another shot makes her jump, and Cassidy falls limp. “I said make it quick,” Sharon says, tucking her gun back into her belt. Alaska hadn’t even seen her move.

“I missed,” Morgan shrugs, but she doesn’t sound apologetic about it.

“Sure,” Sharon says doubtfully, but there’s a strange affection in her tone that undermines any reprimand. Her gaze suddenly lands on Alaska, and she’s back to smirking. “Excuse her,” she says. “She hasn’t been out in a while.”

“Rude,” Morgan snorts. She tucks her two pistols into their holsters, spinning them as she does.

“We need to go,” Detox says. Alaska tries not to cringe away from the voice close to her ear. She wants to retain at least some dignity.

“You’re right,” Sharon says. “Sorry. Got distracted.” She winks at Alaska, and Alaska’s stomach squirms with hatred and an unwilling attraction. She blames her childhood fanaticism.

They exit the house quickly, swinging up onto their horses, Morgan and the other woman speeding away immediately. Detox and Alaska still remain on foot, Alaska’s arms beginning to go numb with how far they’re strained behind her.

“Detox,” Sharon calls from on top of an enormous black Friesian. “She can go with me.”

“What? Why?” Alaska asks harshly as Detox leads her over.

“A little bonding never hurt anyone,” Sharon answers, smirking. Detox swings Alaska up behind her with an alarming ease, and Alaska balances herself, nearly falling off immediately.

Sharon looks at the house and then at Detox, and as Alaska is debating the pros and cons of sliding off the horse and running, she says something that makes Alaska’s blood run cold.

“Burn it.”

“No,” Alaska breathes. But something in her can’t wait to see it in flames.

Sharon eggs her horse into a gallop just as the flames catch onto one of the windowsills, and Alaska stares at the house until she can’t anymore, the orange of the flames burned into the backs of her eyelids.

Loss and relief shouldn’t be felt so soon after one another.

#rpdr fanfiction #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #detox icunt #morgan mcmichaels #shalaska #lesbian au #cowboy au #wild flower #freyja #tw murder #tw guns #tw violence #tw kidnapping

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mysticalgiggles · 5 years

Text

Frustration and Conversation

“I just wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday at school.” Anne looked up and met his gaze. His eyes looked regretful and pained. “I really should have been more considerate and understanding about the situation with Josie and Billy. I just… I really have no excuse.”

(Gilbert comes to Anne to apologize and to talk about the article Anne wrote for the paper )

I wanted to give Gilbert a chance to make up for the last episode a bit.

TW: referenced sexual assault

read on AO3

Anne stood by the sink and tried her best to get the dinner they’d had tonight out of the pot. It was not cooperating and she felt herself grow more and more frustrated with every second. Why did everything have to be working against her today? She put her efforts into scrubbing a particularly nasty stain off with her brush and ended up splashing water all over herself. She groaned in frustration and threw the brush in the sink, making another fountain of water splash across the counter and the floor.

She walked backwards and fell into the chair behind her.

It had really been a horrible day. A horrible few days really. That disgusting boy Billy had done those awful things to Josie on the night of the county fair, and people hadn’t even seemed to care about it. Then Anne herself had made a article about it in the paper and now it seemed as if everyone in Avonlea was against her! Even Josie didn’t want to talk to her!

Not that Anne could really blame her though… She really ought to have asked Josie before writing the article to ask that it was okay with her. Even though the article wasn’t about Josie specifically, people had easily connected it to the events of the county fair. But Anne had been to frustrated and passionate to think about asking Josie. And now it had all blown up in her face.

She let out another grown and slouched even further down in the chair.

She was currently alone in the house though she guessed that would soon change. Matthew was out at the stables and Marilla was at Mrs. lynde’s house, but it was starting to get dark outside so Anne was expecting them to be home soon.

She was just about to get up from her chair and give the pot another go when she heard a knock on the front door. She turned around to see Gilbert Blythe standing outside. He raised his hand in greeting and gave her a small smile.

Anne had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Gilbert Blythe was the last person she wanted to talk to right now. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she ever wanted to talk to him again. She might not even want to look at him again. After that humiliating moment at the fair… or humiliating moments she should say.

But still she nodded at him to open the door and so he did. He was wearing a thin blue jacket and a grey scarf that hung loosely around his neck. Even though Anne was angry with him she couldn’t ignore the little spark that sent a jolt all through her body at the sight of him. Why, why, why, did he have to look so handsome?

She silently cursed that stupid dance practice. She wished everything would go back to the way it was before it. She and Gilbert had been friends, good friends even. They had been having interesting conversations, healthy competition at school and even worked on the paper together. They had been there for each other when lovely Mary passed, and their friendship had been nice. So why did everything have to change? Why did Gilbert have to spin her around like that? And why did he have to look at her with those eyes that made butterflies swarm in her stomach?

Was she in love with Gilbert? Anne didn’t know. The only thing she knew was that after that dance she hadn’t been able to form one sane sentence in front of him. And now she was seemingly getting yet another opportunity to embarrass herself.

“Good evening, Anne” Gilbert said after he had closed the door behind him.

“Good evening,” Anne said and she could tell that her voice was strained. She cleared her throat. “What can I do for you?” She wiped her hands on her apron.

Gilbert looked at her for a second with an expression Anne couldn’t read. After a few seconds of silence he shook his head and said, “Oh.” He blinked a few times. “I actually just wanted to talk to you about something.”

Anne was surprised. She would of thought he wanted to borrow something from Matthew or ask Marilla to care for Delphine. She hadn’t expected him to have come to see her.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not really in the mood for a chat right now.” She turned towards the sink and picked up the brush again. She was not in the mood to make a fool of herself, thank you very much.

She expected Gilbert to excuse himself and walk out the door again but instead he took a few more steps toward her. “Please,” he started and his voice was suddenly soft and desperate. “I just wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday at school.” Anne looked up and met his gaze. His eyes looked regretful and pained. “I really should have been more considerate and understanding about the situation with Josie and Billy. I just… I really have no excuse.”

Anne didn’t know what to say. This was not how she thought her evening would go, and the different turns this day had taken were starting to give her a headache. She remained silent and went back to working on her pot. She could see Gilbert rocking on the balls of his feet in the corner of her eyes, clearly trying to come up with something else to say.

“I really liked the article you wrote.” He said finally.

Anne scoffed. “I think you’re the only one.”

She knew she was being rude but she didn’t have it in her to care at the moment. She had told Gilbert to leave and he had stayed anyway. She didn’t owe him the courtesy of being nice.

“The thing that happened,” Gilbert said. “shouldn’t happen to anyone”

Anne clenched her teeth. “No it shouldn’t.” She said shortly.

Gilbert took another couple of steps towards her.

“Yeah!” He said. “And that’s why we need to do something,” there was a passion in his voice as he said it and for some reason it made Anne angry.

She threw the brush into the water again and turned towards him “I tried doing something about it Gilbert, and look how that turned out!” She said, her voice raised.

It went quiet, the only sound her heavy breathing. Gilbert, shocked at her outburst, just stared at her.

All of a sudden, Anne felt unbelievably tired. She let out a long breath and then sat down in the chair again. She suddenly felt the annoying urge to cry which was really the last thing she wanted to do right now. She had thought that her article would bring news to the awful things many women go through but instead people had made a joke of it and used it as an excuse to say some horrible things. She had tried to make everything better for Josie but instead she had just worsened the situation tremendously. Maybe Anne deserved to feel this awful for always putting her nose in everything.

Gilbert hesitated for a moment but then pulled out another chair and sat down next to her. After a few more seconds of silence, Anne said, “It’s just so awful what happened to Josie. And when something like that happens, you need all the support you can get but now the whole town has just turned against her.” She pressed her eyes shut. “when it happens… you just feel so alone and-,” she paused. “And worthless and awful.” She could feel tears pricking her eyes. “ and all you want is for someone to be on your side,” she finished in a whisper. Anne looked down at her hands as she didn’t dare meet Gilbert’s eyes.

he silence that stretched after her words seem to go on for an eternity and just when she thought it might never end Gilbert said, “I am so sorry Anne,” his voice clear, even though it was shaking. Anne, feeling his gaze on her, looked up and met his eyes. The pained and honest expression that was written on his face almost took her breath away. She couldn’t look away and found herself mesmerized. It was as if those eyes held the answers to all of her problems. Even though they looked as if they had just heard the worst news in the world, they were still filled with warmth and gentleness, and it was all Anne could to not to get lost in them completely.

She nodded and swallowed.

She had never told anyone about the things that had happened to her before she came to Green Gables, mostly because she wanted to forget it ever happened, and now that she had mentioned it, to Gilbert Blythe of all people, it was as if a weight had been lifted from her chest.

Gilbert then reached out his hand and took hers where it rested in her lap. It was warm and calloused from the months at sea and the years at the farm.

Anne looked down at them and was once again reminded of the dance. Just like that day she now marveled at the way their hands seemed to fit together perfectly.

”No one should have to go through that,” he stared into her eyes as if to make sure she knew he was being entirely honest. She nodded because she didn’t think any sound would come out if she tried to speak.

Gilbert continued, his voice unbelievably soft. “And know that whatever you choose to do, I will support you completely. I will always be on your side.”

Tears filled Anne’s eyes and she tightened her grip on his hand. Gilbert brought his other hand up as well so that he was now holding Anne’s hand in both of his.

Anne felt a rush of thankfulness to the boy in front of her and a small, sad smile made its way into her lips.

She and Gilbert were different in many ways but they were also very similar. They were both orphans and had both found a family that wasn’t related by blood. They were both good in school and had great ambitions for their future. But the thing that Anne found the most comforting about Gilbert, was the connection and understanding she knew they both shared. They understood each other in a way that Anne couldn’t explain, and even now, when Anne felt as if almost everything between them had changed and were at odds, that feeling hadn’t gone away.

Gilbert may not be her one true love as she had thought at the county fair, but he was a good friend. And for that, Anne was thankful.

#anne with an e #awae #anne shirly cuthbert #gilbert blythe #anne of green gables #awae fanfic #anne with an e fanfic #shirbert #shirbert fic

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lailannajacobs · 5 years

Text

Want To Be Yours

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Request: can you pretty please w a cherry on top write a loki one shot where reader and loki like each other but they each think the other likes someone else? it ends in a screaming match between the two of them where loki interrupts the reader by kissing them🤩🥰 i really hope that makes sense LMAO

Warnings: Mostly Fluff!

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: thank you so much @moodymcu for this wonderful request!! I had a blast writing it! It was a bit of a crazy week so I apologize ahead of time if there are typos! Let me know what you think! <3

You pushed yourself up, stair after stair, the soles of your shoes squelching with each step. If there had been a perfect day to forget an umbrella, well, this hadn’t been it. The rain hadn’t let up on the fifteen-minute walk from work to the grocery store and had gotten even worse from the grocery store to your apartment. The water kept dripping into your eyes, and your clothes were soaked through less than a third of the way home.

It had been sunny when you had left. That was your only excuse.

The weight of the plastic made your fingertips burn, and your legs trembled as they pushed you up the last three steps onto the fifth floor. Maintenance had picked a stellar day to repair the elevator. Although, according to the two laughing guys downstairs, if you had just come in five minutes later, they would have been done.

Your panting only began to slow when both your feet came to a rest on your bright little welcome mat, the mud from your shoes pooling into the material like the storm clouds had over this morning’s blue skies.

You glanced over at 5B, wondering if he was home yet. You hoped not. You could only imagine how great you must look right now, rain soaked and out of breath like you had just run a marathon rather than having brought your grocery bags up five flights. In your defense, you had three full bags and there was a milk jug in one hand, and amongst other vegetables, a three-pound sack of potatoes in the other. But even if he was there, you knew it didn’t matter what you looked like. He was never going to look at you like that. Not when you knew he was interested in someone else. How could he not be? You were you, which wasn’t a bad thing, but was quite ordinary when your neighbor was surrounded by so many incredible people at the Stark Compound. And technically he wasn’t even from the same planet as you were, but that was a minor detail, right?

Five Years Ago

You were going to be late. Absolutely, they-were-going-to-fire-you, was-it-even-worth-going-in-at-this-point late. Running out the door, you repeatedly slammed on the elevator button, desperately needing it to rush up the five floors as if you were the only tenant it waited for .It didn’t matter that the average age of the tenants in this building was nearly seventy and the odds of anything rushing around here were slim to none. You still had hope that today it wouldn’t take an eternity to reach you. Just as you were about to take the stairs, you realized you had forgotten your work key card on your kitchen table.

You swore.

Jamming the key in the lock, you realized you had forgotten to lock the door in your frantic rush out, so you left the keys in the lock and ran in to get your pass. The only sound as you quickly glanced around the room to make sure you didn’t forget anything else was your heart pounding in your ears, loud against the early morning silence. With a satisfied nod, you ran back out of your apartment.

“(y/n),” a shrill, old voice shouted, “you left your keys in the door!”

You tried to hold back your irritation, knowing if you had properly set your alarm the night before then you wouldn’t have felt the need to snap at your ninety-year-old neighbor. She was only confused, trying to help and shouting because she was going deaf. “Thank you, Mrs. Abella, but I had to run in quickly to get my key.”

“But they were in the door sweetie. You know when I started forgetting things like that, they told me they were going to put me in a home.” You were glad your back was turned as you locked the door so that she couldn’t see your face. “You should be eating your vegetables more. You’re much too young for a home.”

“I think they probably meant their work key Mrs. Abella.” A smooth voice replied, one that was distinctly young and male, and one you definitely would have remembered hearing before.

You whirled around to get a look at the man the voice belonged too. The fact that you were late still hadn’t slipped your mind so you glanced over the tall, handsome man, guessing he was probably a relative of hers you would never see again and therefore, not worth any of the little time you didn’t have to spare. With a quick, polite nod, you stepped toward the elevator.

“Although, Mrs. Abella,” He drawled, “it would seem that they have actually forgotten the keys in the door this time.”

You turned to find an amused smirk on his face, one that was so disarmingly handsome it took you a second too long to realize what you had just heard.

“Oh,” you mumbled awkwardly when the words sunk in.

It only made the corners of his mouth quirk even higher.

With a few quick steps, you pulled your keys out of the door as quickly as you could and kept your head down, only glancing up with a tight smile on your lips as you went to press for the elevator. If you were lucky, it would still be on this floor. But at this point, you were so late and frantic with nervous energy, it may have been better to take the stairs.

“Oh sweetie,” despite the rough start to the morning, you couldn’t help but smile at the nickname Mrs. Abella gave everyone under the age fifty, “You can’t rush off just yet. Don’t you want to meet our new neighbour?”

Her words seemed to quiet every jittery nerve inside you, and the world stilled. You slowly spun to face them. The elevator dinged behind you, but you barely noticed.

At first glance you had thought the man was handsome, but you now realized the word didn’t do him justice. His shoulder length ink hair wasn’t conventional to the men you usually found attractive, but it seemed to accentuate his sharp cheekbones and piercing green eyes, making him undeniably striking. His dark suit fit well across his chest, the top two buttons of the shirt underneath unbuttoned as if it was still too early for a proper work look. He was leaning back on his heels with his hands casually stuffed into his pockets, radiating a cockiness that, damn it, you knew you shouldn’t be attracted to but couldn’t seem to resist.

“Isn’t he just devilishly handsome?” Mrs. Abella asked, “Makes me wish I was your age again…or at least ten years younger.” she winked in his direction with a sly grin that would have made any sane person want to run for the hills.

You had taken the city bus with Mrs. Abella more than once. It was remarkable how many young men she hit on in the span of ten miles.

“You don’t look a day over forty.” he said with a grin matching hers, making you think that he was more than capable of taking on the daily flirting he risked while living next to the ninety-year-old lady.

He took a step towards you, “And you were the last thing I was expecting when Mrs. Abella told me our neighbor would be ‘only a smidge younger than her’, but I can’t say I’m not pleasantly surprised” He extended his hand, “Loki Laufeyson. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Your heart began to thud against your chest again but this time not because you were late - although you still very much were but couldn’t seem to leave just yet - and you gripped his hand for a strong handshake. You had trouble believing that the infamous prince of mischief had decided he would take up residence in a building inhabited by so many old people and considered for a moment that maybe it wasn’t actually him.

But you knew that it was.

The beautiful bright green eyes couldn’t be described as anything human.

With one of your best smiles you said, “Nice to meet you Loki. I’m (y/n). Maybe I’ll run into you again when I’m not rushing off to work.”

“I’m sure we will.” He replied, the corner of his mouth turning up ever so slightly in a way that suggested he knew more than he was letting on.

And maybe he did. You didn’t know for sure. All you knew for sure was that you were already in deep trouble, especially when he looked at you like that, so you took off and flew down the stairs, afraid that if you didn’t leave now, you’d offer to help him move in instead of going to work.

Your keys. Where the hell were your keys? The thought repeated itself over and over, faster and faster until you could barely think straight, patting yourself down like a frenzied security agent. You dropped your bags to search your backpack, only to remember that you had bought eggs. You prayed the eggs were fine but didn’t check. The keys were your first priority. You were going to be screwed if you lost them. There was nothing you could do about the eggs now anyways.

Your landlord was away until tomorrow morning and he was the only one with a spare key. Throwing things around in your backpack, you swore. They weren’t there. Maybe you dropped them in the stairwell? You crept down the five flights, scouring every inch until you walked out into the lobby, defeated. If they weren’t here that only meant…you looked out the doors and into the pouring rain now slamming down against the windows. If anything, the weather had gotten worse in the time it had taken you to go up and down the stairs. With a groan you dropped your head into your hands. Why, why, why today? All you wanted to do was collapse into your bed and take a three-hour nap.

“(y/n) I’ve only been gone for three days, I can’t imagine you’re this distraught about it.”

You peeked up from your hands at the god of mischief and felt yourself smile, despite the rainy, exhausting afternoon.

You weren’t too sure how it happened, but somehow over the years, the two of you had become friends. Good friends. He knew where everything was in your apartment like it was his and you had made dinner in his kitchen almost as often as you had in yours. Logically, with all the time you spent in each other’s apartments, you should have given him a spare key. The thing was, you had never done it because you were sure by doing so, he would guess that deep down, you wanted to give him a key so that it would mean your apartment would be the one he came home to every night. Now you were starting to regret not having taken that risk.

“Your absence pains me more and more each day you’re away Loki.” You mocked, watching him brush the wet hair from his face as he walked towards you.

You wished you could have done that yourself, but you kept your hands planted firmly at your side.

“If only that were true,” he said with a small smirk you couldn’t quite get a proper read on. “What seems to be the matter then?”

“My keys,” you groaned, “I can’t find them, so they have to be somewhere between here and work. If they’re not, I have no idea what I’m going to do. I need to go out and find them.”

He glanced back at the main entrance. “How did you get into the building?”

“The maintenance guys let me in, so I didn’t notice.” You tried to take in a deep breath, telling yourself that panicking wouldn’t help you in any way.

“All right then,” He walked to the door, “let’s go.”

“You’re coming with me?”

The corner of his lips curved up slightly. “I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.”

You held onto his forearm to stop him. “Thank you, Loki, I mean it.”

Those green eyes were alight, brewing with something as intense as the storm outside, and you found it hard to look away. If you were being honest, you didn’t want to, but that wasn’t how friends behaved. You had gotten good at pretending that the only thing you wanted was to be friends and had recently discovered that to remind yourself of that little fact, all you had to do was just that.

You smiled, “You’re an amazing friend.”

He nodded tersely and turned away, leaving you to follow him outside. The wind immediately whipped his hair around his face, and you felt yourself stumble back, the assault of drops whipping against your skin.

“Can’t you do something about this?” You joked.

He shook his head, his look darkening as he snarled, “I’m not Thor.”

You knew his brother was a touchy subject, but he seemed more uptight than usual. It didn’t seem to matter that you had been friends and neighbors with him for a few years now, there was still some things you couldn’t quite figure out about him.

“I know, but I thought you were a witch though and that maybe you could do something about it anyways.”

He was about to snap at you again, but before he could, he found your teasing smile through the downpour. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Let’s finds those keys, shall we?”

“We shall,” you gave him a playful shove despite how drenched you were, “before you melt away like your sister in the west.”

His brows furrowed and you laughed, mentally adding The Wizard of Oz to the list of movies you were making him watch. You had started the list the first time you had referenced Top Gun and he had looked at you in the same way he was now, trying to piece together a puzzle even if he knew he was missing a piece.

It was getting harder and harder to see now, the water pouring from your head and into your eyes, but you did your best to search your half of the sidewalk.

It didn’t seem to matter that you were missing your keys and that the odds of finding them again were probably nonexistent, you were in a much better mood retracing your steps than you had been walking back with your groceries. Being with Loki always seemed to improve your mood drastically and you were honestly glad he was here with you.

You were halfway to the grocery store when Loki shouted your name, the sound barely reaching you over the rain and wind. Jangling in his hands were your keys and you let out a sigh of relief you hadn’t realized you had been holding in. His face was lit up with a proud grin and you beamed back at him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You gushed, wrapping your arms around him without realizing what you were doing.

Before you could pull away, his arms tightened around you, shielding you from the rain. The warmth of his body seemed to envelop you in a little bubble of comfort, and you shivered from the heat.

He pulled you back and held you at arm’s length, inspecting you face. You tried your hardest to hide the disappointment in your face.

“You’re cold?” He asked.

You shook your head and tried to push a wet strand of hair from his eyes, but your shaking hand betrayed you.

He stopped your hand, holding it in his warm one. “You’re freezing.”

You shook your head and when he let go, you shivered again. He shrugged out of his jacket, revealing the black fitting tee under it, and wrapped the coat around your shoulders. It was soaked through, like his tee was soon to be, but the weight of it was comforting all the same. His hands were still on your shoulders, your keys balled up in one of his hands, and he looked you over once again, green eyes bright in the grey surroundings.

It was impossible to look away, especially when his eyes found yours and stayed there, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, “Better?”

You could only nod.

“Good.” He whispered so softly you weren’t sure you heard it.

He dipped his head slightly, inching closer without ever taking his eyes off of you. You felt yourself do the same, magnetically drawn in despite everything you had ever been telling yourself since you had met him. He paused. You were so close, both of your breathing fogged up the space between you then your phone rang, startling you from your trance.

You broke away and pulled the phone out of your pocket and saw the picture of you and your coworker Brett with his arm around you at the office Christmas party. Although you assumed he was only calling to give you updates about that handsome cop he had started seeing last week, you were both working on an important case and you couldn’t risk sending his call to voicemail if he had important details about it, no matter how much you wanted to turn all your attention on the mischievous god in front of you.

You lifted the phone and turned away from Loki, “Hello?”

“Bad news.”

“Tell me this is about the cop and nothing else.”

He proceeded to tell you about how your latest witness just turned up dead and that you were basically down to square one in your case. You told him you’d call him back once you got to your apartment and hung up.

When you looked around for Loki, you realized he had already started walking back to your building. Annoyed with him for clearly being annoyed, you followed, stomping through puddles and not caring any more. It was turning out to be a pretty shitty day and you were soaked through anyways. Who cared if you got a little more mud on you? The only date you had was with your shower as soon as you walked into your apartment.

When you caught up with him, he was waiting to let you in.

“Thanks for waiting.” You said sarcastically.

His eyes were a cool green, void of any warmth or emotion. You never liked when he got like this, usually wanting to talk to him to get him to open up and get him to tell you what was wrong, but now you were too tired for his mood swings. It didn’t matter that he had helped you with your keys, you were too pissed off about work and this overall day to feel any ounce of sympathy.

He tossed your keys in the air without notice, giving you just enough time to catch them. The jagged metal was jarring against your frozen hands.

“I thought I’d give you privacy for your phone call.”

You ignored him and waited for the elevator in silence. Your only hope was that you didn’t run into Mrs. Abella, knowing you didn’t have much social grace left in you at the moment. You’d hate it if you were rude to her.

When it dinged its arrival, you both walked in and stood, staring straight ahead, him with his arms crossed tightly over his chest and you clutching your keys like your life depended on them.

Somewhere between the fourth and fifth floor, the lights in the elevator snapped off, the abrupt stop sending you stumbling towards the doors. The only reason you didn’t hit your head was the steady arm around your waist.

“Thanks.” You grumbled, waiting for the lights to turn back on.

He grunted something unintelligible but didn’t let go. As pissed as you were with him, you didn’t tell him to let go. The fact that you didn’t only served to make you more pissed at yourself, but you didn’t care. It was dark and you were cold and wet. You could allow yourself this little comfort, no matter how much you hated yourself for not being able to get over this stupid crush.

When the lights flickered back on, he let go, but the elevator didn’t move. You gripped the emergency phone and called, only to be told that they didn’t know if it was a problem caused by the guys who were meant to fix the elevators or if it was part of the power outage caused by the storm. If it was the latter, it would be a few minutes until the backup generator turned on and if it wasn’t, well, all they had said was to sit tight.

You groaned. You hadn’t thought the day could get any worse but clearly you were wrong. Any other day you would have been elated at the thought of being stuck in the elevator with Loki but the tension in the air was thick and you didn’t feel like talking.

A few minutes later when the elevator still hadn’t moved you realized that the reason you were stuck here was probably the option that meant sitting tight. Of course it did.

You voiced your concerns to Loki, “I think we’re going to be stuck here for a while.”

He slid a bored glance your way, “Great.”

You shook your head, unable to hold your tongue, “What the hell is wrong Loki? You were fine in the lobby a half hour ago. What changed?”

“Nothing.” His answer was curt and clearly a lie.

You threw your hands in the air, exasperated. “If you’re mad about having gone out with me in the rain, you didn’t have to. I didn’t ask you to.”

“It’s not. And you didn’t have to ask, that’s what friends do, right?” He sneered.

You were about to ask what he meant by that tone, but your phone started ringing again. Brett’s face flashed across the screen, but you quickly sent it to voicemail, not needing any more bad news. You’d get to him later, whenever you finally stepped into your apartment. The sudden memory of your groceries left on your doorstep made you want to sink to the floor.

“Don’t you want to get that?” He practically snarled, the grip on his emotions slipping.

Okay. That was it. You turned to face him head on and sized him up. Seeing your fury, he stepped forward to meet you, never one to back away from a fight.

“Want to tell me what’s wrong?” You demanded.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Liar.”

He took another step forward so that you were inches apart, “Careful.” He said, his voice low and gruff, filled with warning.

“What? What are you going to do?” Without realizing it, you took another step too. “Because if nothing’s wrong then you’re not actually going to do anything. I have nothing to be careful about.”

He clenched his jaw.

“Yeah,” You scoffed. “That’s what I thought.”

Your phone started ringing again.

He backed off a step and leaned back with an arrogant look on his face, “You should get that. Seems important.”

“You know what Loki, it probably is. But I’m not going to get it because I don’t need him to give me any crappier news about how terribly our case is going. I’ll deal with work after I’ve showered and had dinner.” A strange look crossed his face, but you weren’t done. “And is me prioritizing work over you a problem? Because what I do is important, and I can’t believe you’d be so petty as to want me to put work aside like that.”

“That isn’t-“

You cut him off not caring what he was about to say, “Then what is it Loki? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were acting like a jealous boyfriend. And I know that’s not the case because I’m obviously not in the same league as basically any superhero you spend your time with so I’m racking my brain here trying to figure out why. So what is-“

You were cut off by his lips crushing against yours, stealing the words from you with urgency as if he couldn’t stand to hear them anymore. It didn’t take you long to get over your surprise and you tangled your fingers in his damp hair, keys falling to the floor. You didn’t care. Not when his hands roamed from your cheek to your neck, down your back and around your waist to pull you even closer. He took two steps pushing you back into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. Your hands slid along his broad shoulders and down his hard chest, barely noticing that he was soaking. You felt him shiver when your hands slid along the bare skin where his shirt was riding up near his pants and you looped through your fingers through his belt loops to pull him even closer. He smiled through the kiss and bit your bottom lip. You let out a soft moan in response. His calloused fingers brushed against your collar bone as he pushed aside the jacket you had on, and you were about to tilt your head to the side to give him access to where you hoped he was about to kiss you when the elevator jerked and started moving again. He held back and rested his forehead against yours, as out of breath as you were.

“What was that all about?” You murmured, a little star struck.

“For saying something stupid like you’re not in my league.” He breathed, “And for not telling me sooner that Brian was just a colleague.”

“Well it wasn’t like you asked.” You pointed out, “It’s not my fault you assumed.”

“I won’t make that mistake again,” he practically growled, slamming the emergency stop button and pressing his lips to yours.

#Loki Laufeyson #loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #MCU fic #MCU fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #loki x reader #reader interactive #reader insert

257 notes · View notes

hitchell-mope · 5 years

Text

(Film three. In Auradon. Bal’s apartments in the castle. After “best day of my life”. Mal’s in a pair of Ben’s boxer shorts and a doctor who T-shirt. Standing there)

Ben (looping his arms around her waist): hey

Mal: hey. How are you?

Ben: good. Good. And you

Mal: oh so much better now (she turns around) and is this all for me?

Ben: mmmmmmaybe?

Mal: well I greatly appreciate it whoa

(She’s turned around to get a better look at him. He’s, just like her. In boxers. Longish purple hair. And literally nothing else)

Mal: oooh I’m feeling very matchy matchy and very much mismatched

Ben: well there are two ways of remedying that. I could put a top on. OR. I could lock the door and soundproof the room and

Mal: lock the door I’ll soundproof

Ben (very happy): okay

Mal: oh my god!

(Under Ben’s shoulder blades are two jagged cuts from which are growing beating miniature mounds of flesh in a dark blue colour)

Ben: what’s wrong?

Mal: your back!

Ben: what! What is it. What’s wrong?

Mal: I. I. II don’t. Know. It looks like somethings growing out of your back

Doug (walking in briskly with Evie right begins): it’s probably dragon wings. The ember sped up the process I think

Mal: and how do you know that?

Doug: Hierachy And History: all levels of magic and their effects and uses. First edition illustrated.

Bal: can I?

Doug: yes you can borrow it. Hell. Keep it. I’ve got plenty

Mal: how do you know all this?

Doug: I uh bought literally every book about magic when you brought it back. Physical copies and on kindle

Mal: ohhhh. For a minute I thought you were mansplaining to us.

Evie: he’s not chad. He actually knows things. And why the hell aren’t you dressed?

Mal: well sis. We almost died a couple of hours ago so Ben and I were about to engage in a bit of glad to be alive

Evie: eww shut up

Mal: oh like you and Doug haven’t

Evie: that’s besides the point.

Mal: why are you here?

Evie: why do you think. Ben put a top on or something

Bal: no

Ben: I’m comfortable

Mal: I’m relaxed when he’s like this

(Evie sighs and looks defeated)

Doug: so what’s the plan

Mal: yeah about that. I’ve been thinking and I think I’ve connected the dots

Doug: oh?

Mal: yeah and it’s got to do with you and I sis

Evie (horrified): no

Mal: yah

Evie: no

Mal: yeah

Evie: nonono

Mal: yesyesyes

Evie: NO!

Mal: yes! Face it E we might be related

The boys: what?

Mal: think about it. Our mothers are the most self centred vainglorious batshit crazy bitches that side of the river Tiber. They would want the most powerful. Chernabog is a recluse and an altruist. The headless horseman has no mouth so can’t sing their praises. So all that’s left is the god of the dead

Evie: but I’m beautiful

Mal: and what am I. Corned beef?

Ben: I’d still marry you if you were corned beef if that helps

Mal: it does help surprisingly

Evie: but didn’t Maleficent say your dad was human?

Mal: villains lie E. That’s why I was always a disappointment

(Ben hugs her)

Adam (sauntering in like he owns the place): well isn’t that sweet.

Evie: what the hell are you doing here?

Adam: I’ve come to discuss the appalling situation that you let happen.

Mal: I’m sorry?

Adam: so you should be. Ben I have a plan. Put them all back and close it permanently

Doug: what

Adam: go back to the mine. It’s where you belong dwarf

Ben: ok you get out.

Adam: what?

Ben: you heard me. You’re not king. And you have no control over me my actions or my friends. So please. Get out

Adam: fine. But you should at least hear what happening since you had to have him save you

Doug: my names Doug but go on.

Adam: the people are in a panic. They’re terrified. If hades can escape others will try to. If you ask me

Bal and Devie: we didn’t

Adam: if you ask me I personally think it’s high time you do away with this ridiculous endeavour once and for all

Ben: no.

Adam: I wasn’t talking to you boy. I was talking to the future queen. Your people are scared. And even the poor are scared they lash out. Either way you’ll end up back where you cane from. You Carlos and the rest of the technicolour freaks that are destroying the property values that I painstakingly created. You are a “vk” are you not?

Mal: I’m not uh I uhm I don’t consider myself a vk anymore

Adam: then who? That is who you are right. Cradle to grave and all that rhetoric. Face it Mal. You are not an Auradon girl.

Elsa: oh you are so right beast. My daughter is not an Auradon girl. She’s the soon to be the queen of Auradon and isle AND she’s the princess of Arendelle. So that’s three titles to your zero. Meaning you’d do well to shut up

Adan: to what do I owe this...thing

Elsa: my daughter was hurt. So I’m checking on her. Like you should be doing for Ben. Or has belle finally ridding herself if you rendered you void of the most basic compassion for your son as well as everything else?

Adam: as I was saying. If my reasonable suggestion goes unheeded the people will rise up and there’s (a phone blasts out “backstreets back”) OH WHAT NOW!

Ben: it’s my cell phone. Doug would you be a dear and grav it for me

Doug: sure. But only if you put a top on?

Ben: I’ll think about it

(Doug snickers and answers the phone)

Doug: king Ben’s personal cell phone the major-domo speaking. Yes. Yes. Oh shit. Thank you for informing us (he hangs up) the wand, the spindle, Jafar’s staff and the magic mirror have been stolen from the museum

Bal, Elsa and Evie: what?

Mal: when?

Doug: two hours ago. There’s no security footage. The cameras were busted. Ten guards are dead. Two have had the hearts crushed. The rest were cut to pieces by glads shards

Adam: ok then. It’s decided. Round them up. I’ll get the trucks ready. We can have you and them all back by sundown

Elsa: you realise who you’re sounding like right now?

Adam: the only sane man. As it has been for years. Now Mal my dear. Your choice. Anarchy or order. Where’d she go

(Mal’s teleported away)

Evie: you poked the dragon.

Ben: I’ll go after. See if she’s ok

Elsa: no I will. This is a mother’s job

(She teleports after Mal and finds her in the dining room hyperventilating)

Mal: I can’t do it. I I can’t

(Elsa pulls her into a cool down hug)

Elsa: shhh shhh now. Don’t listen to him.

Mal: but he’s right. I’m going to be the queen. I should be thinking about these things. And ten people are dead. And some nutbag has some of the most powerful magical relics in existence

Elsa: but you still have the book and the sceptre. And the book. And if your hunch is correct. You’re half god. So

Mal: so, what?

Elsa: so...beast cannot lay a hand on you or Ben or anyone you care about. Not without your say so.

Mal: so what you’re saying is I hold all the cards

Elsa: essentially yes

Mal (weak laugh): why doesn’t that make me feel better

Elsa: because your upbringing had left you scarred and unable to make decisions that could impact people you care about

Mal: ... harsh but true

Elsa: listen

(This is when “brave” happens)

Mal: I can be brave. I can tell Adam where to stick it.

Elsa: I’ll supply the barge pole

Mal (cackling): please let me see that when it happens

Elsa: hmmmmm maybe

(Back in bal’s living room)

Evie: you’ve hated us all since the moment we arrived. You couldn’t stand the fact Ben chose my sister over the Hunan balloon animal you picked out.

Adam: sometimes the parent really does know best

Evie: said Gothel. Said Madame Mim. Said Jafar, Cruella, my mother, Yzma, Gaston, Maleficent and every single shitty parent we had to deal with over there. You’ve joined their ranks plain and simple

Adam: I am not one of them. You are. Upsetting the well defined status quo on a whim.

Ben: you were a bastard of a father and now you’re a bastard of a human being. The kingdom has me now. And I shan’t make the same mistakes errors and blatant crimes against humanity that you did

Adam: then you’ll be a disappointment as king.

Evie: oh for once in your life shut up and let others speak

Adam: PRETTY THINGS SHOULD SIT STILL AND REMAIN SILENT!

Evie: oh there’s my mother again. Doug honey did you know that she said that exact same thing to me when I stared talking?

Doug: oh my god I’m so sorry.

Evie: eh don’t be. I’m over it. Well mostly. But the fact that this idiot is saying it says plenty about his perceived moral superiority

Adam: if you can’t listen to reason I can always force you.

Evie: once again. My mother. Maleficent. Gaston. Jafar. Cruella. Mim. Medusa. Yzma. Hearts. Need I go on?

(In Ursula’s grotto Uma’s working on something)

V!Harry: what are you doing. Well. I know what you’re doing. I’m you. I’m just asking for the benefit of those out there

Uma: who?

Harry: nothing. Don’t worry.

Uma: ugh whatever. I’m working on an escape. If she thinks she can stop me she’s sorely mistaken

(This is when “speechless” happens)

(Mal bursts back in to the room)

Mal: alright here’s what’s going to happen. Ben, Evie you guys still wanna continue with the program?

Ben: yes

Evie: absolutely

Mal: then you do that. Because, Adam, we aren’t closing the barrier. You got that?

Adam: I really don’t think

Mal: I don’t care what you think. Nobody here cares what you think. You’re no longer king. Hence superfluous to the narrative. You’re nothing. The chain of command goes Ben, Doug, me, Evie

Evie: uh excuse me?

Doug: sorry hon. She’s right.

Ben: yeah. King, major-domo, queen, chancellor.

Evie: shit

Mal: so you can scream shout moan complain. But we’re not closing off the island. EVER!

Adam: you’ll regret this.

Mal: pretty sure we won’t.

(Adam stalks off)

Mal (immediately deflating): man I need a drink. Amethyst wine anyone?

Evie: do I even wanna know?

Mal: probably not.

Ben: it’s great. Just like the butter bars

(Evie turns green around the gills)

Doug: I’m probably gonna regret this but what’s in it

Mal: white wine. Vodka. A quarter pound of sugar. And it’s all mixed together with juiced violets. Hence the colour

Evie: that sounds disgusting.

Ben: oh it is. But we made it with magic so the potency is through the roof

Doug: meaning?

Ben: meaning it’ll get you blackout

Mal: shitfaced

Bal: blindingly drunk

Evie (forcing back a disgusted look): ahahaha. I’ll pass

Bal: suit yourself

(They commence drinking. In the isle chadeficent is looking on as Ursula goes belly up)

Chadeficent: need some help?

Ursula: my wretch of a daughter blew up my grotto and escaped with that mouth breathing pirate spawn. Of course I need help

(Chadeficent sends eerie magic hands, the exact type that ripped out Ariel’s voice, plucks out Ursula and drops her on the pier)

Ursula: now that that’s all settled. Who the hell are you

Chadeficent (now only using Maleficent’s voice): you tell me sea witch.

Ursula (unsurprised): you’ve literally never looked worse

Chadeficent (in Chad’s voice): hey watch it bitch!

Ursula: excuse me

Chadeficent (still in Chad’s voice): I mean seriously you look like a desaturated smurf.

Ursula (eyes glowing teal): Do you wanna say that again kid?

Chadeficent (in Maleficent’s voice): no he does not

Ursula (smirking): who’s body?

Chadeficent (both voices now): the son of Cinderella

Ursula: oooh a new meal?

Chadeficent: no. A tool (Maleficent’s voice) in more ways then one

Ursula: how’d you get here.

Chadeficent (both voices): the elongated horseless carriage

Ursula: so the limo

Chadeficent: yes.

Ursula (very much unimpressed): mhmm. Why are you back?

Chadeficent: I’m starting a coven. I assume you want in?

Ursula: eh what the hell. Wouldn’t be the first time we teamed up to ruin lives

Chadeficent: remember when we ruined for children’s lives simultaneously?

Ursula (mad): oh you mean that time my daughter was publicly humiliated and gained a dehumanising epithet all because your daughter acted out in anger at something the witches daughter did that left the freckled thing to be tortured by the furrier for a month?

Chadeficent: yes

Ursula (bark laughing): HA. Good times good times. So. What’s the plan

Chadeficent: we are going to break my daughter

Ursula: mind? Body? Soul? Spirit?

Chadeficent: all four

(In Auradon. Adam’s just sat down at the bar of a tavern)

Adam: double scotch on the rocks

Bartender: coming right up sir

Adam: never have kids Moliere

Bartender: my names not Moliere sir

Adam (not even listening): you raise them. You teach them. You impart your wisdom. Your values. And what do they do? Take a giant steaming shit on all you worked on and turn everything completely upside fucking down in the name of goddamn “progress”. Know what I’m saying?

Bartender: ohhhhkay?

(Adam gets off the stool and starts the jukebox. This is when “gold” starts.)

Bartender (very very scared now): sir. Your majesty are you ok?

Adam (pensively): no. No I’m not a majesty. Not anymore. Well. Not yet at least.

(He runs out of the tavern without paying)

Customer: what the hell was that all about?

Bartender: I don’t know. But I have a feeling little benny needs a warning.

#disney descendants #zendaya!mal

18 notes · View notes

shannonisawitch · 6 years

Text

Yacht Club

Mc buys a yacht and takes her future wifey for a cruise 💋

Sonia x MC

Sonia stood at the end of a dock and scoffed at the scrap of paper she held in her hand. The coordinates scribbled on the paper led to a spot off the coast of the Bahamas, a spot in the middle of the fucking ocean. She hadn’t believed it at first, thought that maybe there was a mistake, but the bartender at the tiny bar at the head of the dock had assured her that yes, the coordinates were indeed the middle of the ocean.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Sonia turned to face an older man, a captain’s hat covering his graying hair. “Yes?”

“What coordinates do you have?”

Slightly baffled, Sonia raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“I was sent to receive a visitor for my boss, Fiera. A chase is in effect, and the finish line is near.”

Sonia smiled at the code and handed the man the slip of paper. “Mind telling me why these coordinates are going to take us to the middle of the ocean?”

“Afraid I’m on strict orders to tell you nothing and bring you to the coordinates at your earliest convenience.”

“Alright,” Sonia shrugged. “Off we go then, captain.”

“Please, call me Simon. Boat’s this way.”

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

After almost drowning in a small boat several months ago, it was safe to say that Sonia was not currently a big fan of the small motor boat moving farther out to sea. They passed islands and other boats, the sun beginning to sink below the horizon, casting the ocean in a pink sun-kissed haze.

“Not too much longer now,” Simon called from his position at the motor.

The water was calm around them, a crystalline blue, and Sonia took a deep breath. She never thought that she’d find herself in the Bahamas, let alone chasing down a very special someone for what was probably the sixth time. Or was it the seventh? The things she did for this woman. Between her trying to throw every major protection agency off Gwen’s tail and Gwen lying low and seemingly disappearing every couple of weeks, they had to get creative with where and when they got to see one another. Sonia wasn’t complaining, she loved the constant exchange of clues that they’d leave for one another, hinting at locations and encrypted phone numbers so that they could at least speak to one another when a face-to-face meeting was too risky. Safe to say it was the most exciting relationship Sonia had ever been in, but also the most challenging. She’d give almost anything to have Gwen in her life every day, but that was a dream for another time, another day.

A large shape on the horizon drew her attention, and realization finally dawned on her; the coordinates were in the middle of the ocean, yes, but they led directly to a yacht. A very large, very expensive looking yacht.

“Welcome to the Ippolita! Named after the first crown princess of Monaco, you know.” Simon announced, pulling up to the rear of the vessel and tying off the small boat. Sonia smirked at the name of the boat and grabbed her bag, Simon helping her onto the loading dock. “Fiera will most likely be on the second deck, she’s expecting you. Please enjoy your stay.”

Simon gave her a salute as he turned and walked away. Sonia moved to the staircase on her left, marveling at the sheer size of the ship as she ascended to the second deck. Lounge chairs faced out to the ocean, a pair of sliding glass doors behind them, soft music coming from within. Sonia eased the door open, cool air brushing against her face as she walked into the room. A king-sized bed faced the floor to ceiling windows, giving a stunning view of the ocean. Sonia set her bag on the bed and walked down the hall, following the music. She came into a sitting area and there, sitting at a table with blueprints, papers, and devices scattered across it, was Gwen. She chatted animatedly to someone on the phone, shifting through the mess before her.

“Rye, don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”

Sonia leaned against the door frame, watching the other woman silently. Gold light flooded the room, bathing Gwen in a warm glow, her long hair swept over one shoulder. Sonia was admiring the curve of her neck when Gwen turned around, a smile spreading across her lips at the sight of Sonia.

“Hey Rye, I’m going to have to call you back.” Gwen hung up the phone without waiting for an answer and set it on the table, rising from her chair and crossing the room.

“So, you’re Fiera now, huh?”

“The name kind of found me, and I needed a new cover, so I’m not complaining.”

“Sounds like there’s a story behind that.”

“There is.” Gwen stepped in front of her, letting her arms wrap around Sonia’s waist. “But a story for another time. I’ve missed you.”

“Kiss me like you miss me.”

Gwen laughed against her lips and pulled her to the bedroom.

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

“So… did you steal this yacht too?” They were lying in bed, the ocean calm and dark before them, the windows open to let in the cool sea air.

“Hmm, I can’t remember.”

Sonia rolled her eyes and swatted away Gwen’s wandering hand. “Don’t avoid the question, darling.”

“No, I didn’t steal the yacht, darling.” Gwen chuckled, rolling so she was lying over Sonia, her hair falling around them like a curtain. “I’ve recently come into a lot of money.”

“Lucky you.” Sonia drew lazy circles along Gwen’s back. “Brown hair suits you.”

“Figured I needed to change some things up after my run-in with Ansel’s team in Dubai a few weeks ago. You know, just normal life on the run.”

Sonia leaned up and captured her lips, the kiss slow and lazy. Gwen leaned into her, a heat flushing through her body.

“I could lay here and kiss you all night, but I do have a dinner planned for us on the upper deck,” she whispered against her lips.

The two got dressed and made their way to the upper deck, where a table was waiting under the light of the moon. Candles were lit around the deck, and Sonia smiled as she sat down, a single red rose sitting atop her plate.

“A rose in bloom waits for you in the sea, follow these coordinates and you’ll get to me,” Sage said, reciting the clue and watching Sonia pick up the rose.

“The final clue to finding you. You know how to put up a good chase.” Sonia’s eyes shined with mirth as she looked at Gwen across the table. “It killed me not to see you for a whole seven weeks, you know. But at least the chase kept me sane.”

“Actually, that’s what I want to talk to you about. But first, let’s eat.”

A few crew members walked up the stairs and placed dishes of lobster, shrimp, and caviar on the table, next to baskets of bread and fruit. Champagne was poured into two glasses, and Gwen raised hers in a toast as the crew walked back down the stairs.

“A toast. To evading Ansel, bathing in riches, and most importantly, to us.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Sonia replied, clinking her glass to Gwen’s. “To us.”

“Now, back on topic. As much as I love configuring elaborate chases to get you to find me, I know they can’t go on forever. Seven weeks is much too long without you. You’ve done a phenomenal job keeping them off my trail for the last six months-”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“… and while I’ve had a few close calls, I’d say I’m mostly out of hot water. Especially now that my… assets have been divvied up. I have the funds to escape Ansel and watch him combust into flames from afar, metaphorically of course.”

Sonia laughed, plucking a strawberry into her mouth. “And?”

“And I think we should stop running. At least, stop running in opposite directions. Sonia, I love the short time we get to spend together, but I hate when you leave, and I hate having to put distance between ourselves. I know that I can keep Ansel off my tail and keep anyone from suspecting that you were ever involved. You could come with me, and we could go wherever we wanted.”

“Gwen, I can’t just run away with you. What about my job, and my family?”

“Babe, I’ve got enough money that you’ll never have to work a day in your life, but I know you’re passionate about your career, so I’ve found a couple opportunities that might fit your liking.”

Simon walked up the deck at that moment, a pile of folders in his hands. He handed them off to Gwen and refilled their champagne before giving a salute and striding from the deck.

“Thank you, Simon! Now, in this folder you’ll find security details, agency consulting, course teaching, and positions open in law enforcement from pretty much all around the world. You can have your pick, and before you say anything about being handed a job, know that you deserve this, especially after everything Ansel put you through. You’re qualified for every job in this folder.” Gwen handed the folder across the table to Sonia, her expression serious. “I know it’s a lot to think about, so I don’t expect an answer right away. Actually, you don’t owe me an answer, just know that I support you no matter what you do.”

“Gwen, I… I don’t know… what…” Sonia flipped through the folder, her eyes wide. Positions at MI6, the CIA, private security teams. She skimmed through the packets, speechless.

“Hold on, I’m not done yet.” She opened a second folder, flipping through papers and photos. “When we were trapped on that tiny boat and you told me about your sister and how she lost everything, you were so anguished…” Gwen reached across the table and took Sonia’s hand. “I decided right there and then that I never wanted to see you sad again. So, I got to work.”

Sonia took the new folder Gwen handed her, not letting go of her other hand.

“Your sister should be receiving a job offer that she can’t pass up. A great yearly salary, benefits, all that jazz. She’ll also be contacted on Monday with news that a long-lost relative has passed and has left her a small fortune. She and her daughter will live comfortably, and safely, for the rest of their lives.” Sonia was squeezing her hand so hard, she was sure it was going to snap in two. “Oh, and the dickwad that caused all her problems is now sitting cozy in a cell at Trask Island, conveniently linked to the theft of some priceless Monaco jewels…”

Sonia sat speechless, tears in her eyes as she stared across at Gwen. Gwen smirked, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Is this a good reaction, or did I fuck up?”

Sonia jumped from her chair and was in front of Gwen in the blink of an eye, her hands cupping her face. “Gwendolyn Hargraves, you are the greatest person I know. What did I do to deserve you?”

Gwen didn’t get a chance to answer as Sonia sealed their lips together in a searing kiss.

“I have so many questions,” Sonia said breathlessly, breaking the kiss. “But first, why? Why go through all the trouble?”

“Babe.” Gwen pulled Sonia down so she was sitting on her lap, legs dangling off the side of the chair. “I’d honestly do anything for you. This was the least I could do. You’ve already done so much for me.”

Sonia kissed her again, slow and tantalizing, her teeth nipping at Gwen’s lower lip. Gwen squeaked in surprise but kissed her back with such fever and passion that Sonia felt her world spin.

“Our dinner is getting cold,” Gwen mumbled against her lips.

“I’m suddenly not that hungry,” Sonia smirked. “Only want you.”

A shiver ran through Gwen as Sonia’s nimble fingers reached for the hem of her shirt, breaking the kiss to quickly pull it over Gwen’s head and discard it on the floor. Gwen’s skin was hot to her touch, her heart pulsing as she let her hands wander to skim the soft skin of her stomach.

“This chair is getting in my way,” Gwen said against her neck, kissing the olive skin. “Perhaps we can move to the lounge chair.”

Sonia chuckled in her ear, untangling herself and rising from the chair, pulling Gwen so they were flush against one another. Gwen smiled against her lips as she walked backwards towards the lounge chair, keeping her arms tight around Sonia. The back of her calf caught the edge of the chair and she fell back, Sonia following her down with a laugh.

“I’m really glad I went with the plush lounge chairs,” Gwen smirked, pulling Sonia’s shirt over her head. “I’m also really glad you wore your lacey bra.”

Sonia rolled her eyes but laughed again, raking her nails down Gwen’s back as she rolled her hips.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Gwen groaned, leaning back on her elbows to watch Sonia move above her. “But something needs to be done before we go any further or I’m going to go crazy.”

“Pants. Off.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Sonia stood quickly to pull off her pants while Gwen shimmied out of hers. Sonia was back on top of her in a moment, grinding into her while Gwen let her fingers wander to the clasp of her bra.

“Do you know what Fiera means, my love?” Gwen whispered, kissing the shell of her ear.

“Enlighten me,” Sonia mumbled against her jaw.

“Wild animal.”

“I hope you live up to your name then, Fiera.”

Intense heat ran through Gwen’s body as Sonia started kissing down her chest, her hands lost in Sonia’s hair as she moved lower.

“I thought you weren’t hungry,” Gwen said with a smirk, gasping when Sonia nipped at the inside of her thigh.

“Shut it, Fiera.”

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

Sonia woke the next morning to the soft sound of the yacht moving through the waves, the sheets cool underneath her, the sun warm on her sore limbs as it seeped through the massive windows. She felt completely at ease, and completely sated. Remembering last night, she smiled and opened her eyes, but the bed was empty beside her.

She sat up in the bed and yawned, stretching her arms above her head, looking out at the crystal blue waters moving swiftly past. Gwen stood at the railing, her hair loose around her shoulders, a robe tide loosely around her. Sonia gathered the top sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her, moving out of the cabin to stand on the deck. Gwen turned at the sound of footsteps, a smile gracing her lips.

“Good morning, mi amor.” The term of endearment rolled off her tongue, and Sonia smiled brighter.

“Good morning, lover.” Sonia stepped behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist and resting her chin on Gwen’s shoulder. The yacht was moving swiftly past scattered islands, the sun bright on the horizon. “Where are we off to?”

“It’s a surprise.” Gwen covered Sonia’s hands with her own, leaning into her. “Did you sleep well?”

“Exceptionally. Best sleep I’ve had in months.”

“Good.” Gwen turned her head and gave her a chaste kiss as the boat slowed beneath them.

“I thought about your offer. It only took me a few moments to decide, but I think I’d like to run away with you, Gwen Hargraves.”

Gwen turned in her arms, looking into her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I haven’t been more sure of anything else in my life,” Sonia says with a laugh. “It will be a new adventure.”

Gwen kisses her again, emotion heavy on her lips. They stand there for a moment, leaning against one another.

“Thank goodness, because honestly I was running out of clever clues to leave you.”

Light laughter dances on the breeze as Sonia buries her nose in Gwen’s neck, drinking in the scent of her sunkissed skin. “I decided last night, as soon as you handed me that second folder. I don’t want to live without you.”

“And now you’ll never have to.”

They stand in the sun, basking in the moment of just being together.

“I think we’re just about there, shall we go get dressed?” Gwen asks after several minutes, running her hands up and down Sonia’s arms.

“If we must.”

“Bikinis are mandatory.”

“Did you book an island?” Sonia asked, turning to look over the side of the boat, an island not too far away.

“Babe, I bought an island.” Gwen turned out of Sonia’s arms, sauntering back into the cabin, shooting Sonia a smirk over her shoulder.

“Son of a bitch. I could get used to having a sugar momma.”

Gwen’s laughter filled the cabin.

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

The beach was pristine, the white sand near blinding in the afternoon sun. A breeze ruffled Sonia’s hair as she flipped through one of the job packets, the folder on her lap and a highlighter in hand, Gwen’s head cradled on her thighs as they lounged in the sand under the shade of an umbrella.

“You’re such a nerd with your highlighter.”

“I want to go through and check every specification. I don’t want to deal with another Ansel.”

“Don’t worry, I only picked jobs that would put you under excellent management. The CIA liaison is probably my favorite, besides the last option, of course.”

Sonia flipped through the folder, pulling out the last packet, a smile tugging at her lips. “Really? Security detail for your heist team?”

“We could use your expertise. And I hear the leader is fantastic.”

Sonia swatted Gwen with the folder and they both laughed.

“Ok. I’ll keep it in mind with my top contenders.” Sonia said it in all seriousness.

Gwen sat up, regarding her. “Really?”

“Why not? It’s still for the greater good, is it not?”

“It most definitely is.”

Sonia spun around at the voice, Gwen grinning cheekily as she stood.

“Glad you could finally make it, Rye.”

Rye wrapped her in a hug. “I missed you. And, well, hanging out on your private island was an invitation I couldn’t pass up.”

Gwen laughed, sitting down next to Sonia. “Sonia, allow me to formerly introduce you to Ryland York. Strategist, smooth talker, and my very best pal.”

“Pleasure to officially meet you, you know, without trying to arrest you and all that.”

Rye chuckled, reaching down to shake Sonia’s hand. “The pleasure is all mine. I’m just glad Gwen found someone that will put up with her head strong attitude and her horrible jokes.”

Gwen nudged him playfully. “Did Eris come to?”

“Yeah, she’s still asleep on the yacht. Graves and Jones are with us too. Samira will talk via video chat, Fabian said he’d meet us here, and Sibil said something about a cruise ship?”

“Wow, I buy a yacht and suddenly everyone follows suit.”

“Guess we’re officially a yacht club.”

“Good thing we have this island to hold our… yacht club meetings.”

“Should I be present during these ‘yacht club’ meetings?” Sonia asked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

“Of course. You’re a member by association now.” Gwen kissed her shoulder, leaning against her.

Rye smiled at the two of them, leaning back into the sand. “Welcome to the yacht club, Sonia.”

#this was supposed to be a short drabble hahaha i got carried away #sonia got mc whipped honestly #i'm adopting everyone on the heist team #sonia x mc #mc x sonia #thm sonia #the heist monaco #the heist: monaco #choices #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #shan writes fic #oh and yeah this got a little steamy and i wanted to keep going but idk how it would turn out #don't worry i'm working on prompt requests still!#send me prompts if you want fam #it might take me a bit to write them but i promise i'm working on them ok

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peakyblinders1919 · 6 years

Text

Trapped

“Mary, can you please do something about him? His crying is giving me such a headache.” You sighed, rubbing your temples as you laid back on the couch.

“Of course, Mrs. Shelby.” The docile maid agreed, picking up the babe who couldn’t stop wailing and taking him out of the room. You sighed in content. Why did babies have to cry so much? Being a mother wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Long days, even longer nights, constant crying, constant headaches. You loved your son, of course you did, but what made it all worse was the way you felt so...alone.

Tommy was here and then there, jumping from one business meeting to the next so much that he didn’t help out. You were starting to feel like a single mother, slipping further and further into the void of being locked up in a house with a baby. No contact with the outside world, with many adults for that matter. You were going a bit stir crazy, and Tommy wasn’t even around much for you to talk about your feelings. Which meant you were letting them bottle up and building inside you, just like he had taught you.

After a short nap, waking up to silence, your headache subsided but you felt just as alone as ever. Dead inside. Cold. There was one person who could sympathize with what you were going through, so you hurried to the phone in your husband's office.

“Esme, I beg of you, how do I do this...this whole mother thing? How do you do it with so many kids, I have just the one?”

“Y/N, you sound like you could use some help, I’ll be over soon.” Hanging up the phone, you were thoroughly pleased that Esme was coming over. It was the first time in weeks that you had a reason to get ready, that you were having a meeting with someone other than a doctor or an employee. You put on a nice dress and used the occasion as an excuse to put on some makeup, and waited in the living room with a bottle of red wine already open and poured into two glasses.

“Mrs. Shelby, your guest is here.”

“Thank you Mary, let her in.”

You smiled widely when that sister-in-law of yours walked in. You couldn’t resist the urge to run over and hug her, rocking her back and forth.

“Hi love.”

“Hi hun. You didn’t have to get all dolled up for me.” Esme said, and taking one look at her you remembered why. Her onyx hair was wild, braided and curly and loose and free, just like her. She was beautiful without makeup, and her style clearly defined that she was a gypsy. The moment she walked in it was like she carried a fresh air in with her, and for the first time in a long time, you felt happy. A feeling. Something.

Esme joined you on the couch, and you quickly poured her a glass.

“I needed the excuse Esme. I feel like I’m withering away in here”

“Dramatic. You’ve always been dramatic Y/N.”

“Esme, I haven’t left the house in months. My husband hasn’t been here for more than a day or two at a time. It’s just me and William all day, and all he does is cry and slobber on me.”

Esme looked at you with a cocked brow, assessing the situation; it was definitely unique.

“How do you do it?” You begged, looking for advice. Esme bit her nails, thinking.

“You just need to calm down. Believe in yourself that you can do it. You really just need to relax hun.”

“I’m trying.” You sighed, leaning your head back in a dramatic fashion, taking another sip of wine. “I think this wine has gotten weaker. It doesn’t give me the same effect.”

“That’s called tolerance hun. You’ve been drinking too much, it’s not as strong. You...you may need something stronger.”

It took you a second to realize what she was suggesting, but when it all clicked, your eyes grew wide as you looked at the gypsy.

“Are...are you...suggesting what I think you're suggesting?” You asked, your voice tapering off at the end so no one else could you hear, though the maids had a tendency of listening, especially of late with your current state of mind. They were worried about you of course, but you convinced them you were fine and that Mr. Shelby know nothing about it.

“Yes.” Esme said bluntly, sitting back on the couch.

“Esme, I could never- you know Tommy’s feelings abo-”

“You asked me what I did to stay sane with 7 kids, and I’m just letting you know...a little bit of snow never hurt anyone.”

“Esme...I don’t know…” you sighed. It sounded like it might work, if it could just get you to relax for a few hours, then maybe it would be worth it. But what about everything else? The backlash from your husband if, no when, he found out? How would it weigh on your conscious? What would it do to your relationship with your son, make it even more strained?

“Well, look, I have an extra vial here,” Esme said, fishing out the blue tiny glass vial from her jacket. “You can hold onto this and use it whenever you want.”

“Uh...thank you.” You said after a while even though you weren’t sure about it.

For now you stuck to wine, finishing a bottle and having Mary bring you two another one from the cellar, it finally began to give you the sensation you needed. You spoke about the business, something that you women normally didn’t get to do unless you were together and away from everyone else. Esme continued rambling about how John’s always horny after a shootout or fight and she definitely doesn’t need any more children. You couldn’t agree more. You mostly rambled about Tommy’s lack of affection and his overall absence in you and William’s life. It made for a very depressing conversation in the end, and by the time Esme found a way home, you were left in your vast, empty, living room wondering what had happened to your life.

Knowing Tommy was still away on business in London, you hurried to bed early. You actually stopped in the nursery. When he was sleeping, William could actually be peaceful. The alcohol in your veins caused you to run a finger down his soft, plump cheeks, actually giving him a kiss before walking into your bedroom.

You were getting used to seeing it empty, sleeping on half of the bed with all the covers draped around you. He had promised these business meetings wouldn’t last much longer, when the deal was settled he’d be home for good. But it seemed to be forever, never ending.

Getting into your pajamas, you had forgotten the vial of snow gifted to you from Esme until you felt it in her hands and placed it on the bedside table. You eyed it for a long time, getting completely ready for bed. Even when you shut off the lights and snuggled under the blankets, the blue little vial came to life as you shut your eyes. You couldn’t get it out of your mind. You shoved the thing into the bedside drawer too, but a few minutes later you took it back out again.

“Fuck it.” You whispered to yourself, taking the vial into the bathroom and powering the white powder onto the counter. You eyed it for a long time, wondering if you had officially gone crazy. Were you really about to do this? The more you thought about it the more it seemed like a bad idea, so it was now or never.

Slowly rolling up a hundred pounds, you bent over and snorted the powder, a burning sensation filling your nostrils. Just as you threw your head back, waiting to fill something before finishing off the remaining powder, the bedroom light flicked on. You turned quickly, giving you a head rush.

“Y/N?”

“Tommy? What...what’re you doing here?” Saying you looked like a deer caught in headlights would be a gross understatement.

“We closed on the deal early so I thought I’d come to surprise you.” He said, his voice steady and low. He threw his coat on the bed and took a few steps towards you. “What’re you doing Y/N?”

“What? Oh, nothing.” You said, turning around quickly, trying to hide the coke from him. You flailed your arms, trying to disperse the white powder so it wasn’t as conspicuous.

“Y/N, what’re you doing. Stop, what’re you doing.” His voice was still low and steady, which at this point was scarier than if he was screaming at you. He stepped forward, grabbed your hands and pulled you out of the way lightly to see the remains of coke on the counter. He let you go.

“What is this?” He asked slowly.

“Tommy, I….”

“Coke? You're doing coke now, huh?”

“Tommy I... this is the first time-”

He didn’t want to hear it, brushing the rest into the sink and turning it on so it could go down the drain. He stood over the sink with his head hung and nothing to say to you.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Give me a fucking minute Y/N.” There it was. The yelling. It shocked you, and you moved away into the bedroom. He kicked the bathroom door before following you.

“What are you thinking? Are you ok? Coke? Really?”

“I’m sorry Tommy. I….this was the first time.”

“It doesn’t matter Y/N. Once is enough to get you hooked, or put you in danger. Why the fuck did you even do it in the first place?”

“Because Tommy,” you cried, unaware that hot tears were streaming down your face. “I’ve been going insane in this house.”

“So you do coke? With our son in the other room?”

“Tommy, you don’t know what it’s like-”

“What’s what like? Hm? Explain it to me Y/N.”

“I’m….I’m trying but you just keep cutting me off!” You snapped back, making him stop his disappointed pacing to look at you in the eye. He stood over you, hands on his hips, trying his best to intimidate you, but the high from the cocaine made you want to fight and stand up for yourself. “I’m trapped, Tommy. Trapped. My life is a nightmare, and I didn’t know what else to do and Esme came over and-”

“You know I’ve never liked Esme.”

“Yes, but I do. She’s my friend Tommy. She cares enough to listen to me and my feelings and try to help me out. You,” you said, hand extended out to him. “You….you just keep leaving.” You said, your lip now quivering as you spoke and tears continued streaming.

“I’m working for us, so I can support you and William.”

“I know it’s just….it’d be nice if you were ever here. I miss you and I...I didn’t know what else to do so I thought maybe Esme had a point and-” your voice finally cracked, both it and you reaching your breaking point. You hunched into yourself, your cries similar to those of William’s. Hysterical, loud, unnerving. Tommy had never seen you like this.

He hurried to your said, his anger dissipating as he saw you so broken down. He kneeled in front of you, trying to get you to look him in the eye.

“Y/N, love,” he said quietly. “Look at me.” You finally did, though he was blurry. “I...I didn’t know you felt this way. I’m sorry. I….I’m done with business trips for a while, yeah? I’ll be here with you. It’ll all be ok. Just promise me you’ll never do coke again.”

It was hard keeping your eyes on him, the coke and the crying was making your head foggy, but you held onto his words, clutched them to your chest. You smiled, nodding.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what else to do. I...I thought it would help.”

Tommy just shook his head, now going to embrace you. You missed his scent, burying yourself into his chest as he held you. Taking in a deep breathe, knowing that he would never treat you this way again.

#peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby fanfiction

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novellaquill · 6 years

Text

Starling: The Lonely

Drabble with OC!Batsis x batfam

Summary: Her grandmother’s words continued to simmer at the back of Lerina's head, while family troubles push her to make a decision.

Warning: This takes about depression, mental illness, and other serious topics. If these topics make you feel uncomfortable don't read.

A/N: This one has is kind of a songfic. I recommend listing to The Lonely by Christina Perri. Flashbacks are in italics and in third person pov. The POV will switch back and forth a lot.

Previous Chapters: Lost and Longing

“There I was, cold, isolated and desperate for something I knew I couldn't have. A solution. A remedy. Anything.

...I hated it. Alone and confused was the last place I wanted to be. Somehow I knew I deserved this.” ― Brian Krans, A Constant Suicide -- Two am, where do I begin Crying off my face again It was mornings like this that I hated the most. It was 2 o'clock in the morning a sane person would be sound asleep by now but no. Not my family oh no, they were on the streets hopping from rooftop to rooftop like ninjas while I was pathetically crying in my room alone, again. The silent sound of loneliness Wants to follow me to bed It was so quiet, with Alfred having the week off I was the only person in the house, yet even the animals did not make a sound this morning. I couldn't sleep, thanks to my insomnia and the fear that the silence would follow me if I went to bed. I'm a ghost of a girl That I want to be most I'm the shell of a girl That I used to know well I glare at the chest across the room hatefully anyone would be proud of this chest it was filled with my gold medal and trophies it even had folders of my awards certificates, but for me, it was only a reminder. A reminder that I was the shell of who I once was. When being alone didn't bother me. The ghost of a girl that I wanted to be again. My ADHD was pounding my skull, I was in the same position in the same place for too long. I was getting fidgety and needed to do something. Glancing at the old dance trophy that peeked under the lid of the chest I sighed, I guess some things never do change. Dancing slowly in an empty room Can the lonely take the place of you I sing myself a quiet lullaby I slowly move my body gracefully to a quiet lullaby my mom used to sing to me. Now I sing it to myself as I dance away the thoughts of loneliness taking my place in my own body, consuming my very being. Let you go and let the lonely in To take my heart again Times like this I can let go, not having to worry about my emotions diverting my attention from my responsibilities. I can wallow in my hopelessness and sort out the bottled up emotions. It was long overdue anyway. My mind drifted back to my grandmother's words "You have PhDs, trophies, medals, and degrees that they don't even know about. Use them to get out of here!" "The only ones who would notice and care would be Jason, Timothy, and Alfred. Stop letting him dictate what happens in your life. You're his daughter not his clone and you're a grown adult!" Was she right? Did she need to leave? Could she leave? I have no doubt that my family loves me with the exception of Damian however, I couldn't just abandon them, could I? They would care if I left, right? -- Too afraid, to go inside For the pain of one more loveless night After a long day at Wayne Enterprises, Lerina was having difficulties deciding on whether she should enter her own home. She lived there for over 17 years she should be used to the feeling of dismissal, it wasn't the first time he had planned a mission on someone's birthday. Even though her birthday wasn't for a few days, the fact that she would spend another celebration alone made her furious and a bit bitter. Sure her siblings spent their birthdays mostly fighting crime but at least they were together while she spent her's with Alfred and her grandmother. Not that she didn't love them but spending time with senior citizens should not be the highlight of her day. It was pathetic. Finally, she decided to go inside making her way up to the living room. A smile grew on her face when she looked around. The entire room was covered with balloons, streamers, banners and more. It was entirely painted with silvers, blues, purples, and gold her favorite colors. Her grey orbs landed on the people responsible for the glorious surprise, Alfred and Leilei whom she had suspected to be there but Jason and Tim were too. Tears welled up in her eyes her bags plummeted to the ground, "you guys," her voiced cracked as she was pulled into a hug by her brothers. "Happy early Birthday big sis!" "Happy Birthday starlight." "¡ Feliz cumpleaños pajarito!" "Happy Birthday Miss Lerina." She gleamed at her family's cheers, "Thank you guys" she wiped her tears, "but I thought you had to go on patrol tonight?" "We do," Tim answered freeing his older sister from his grip, "but since we're going to be gone in a few days we ditched," Jason clarified with a rebellious smirk. "Unfortunately the rest of the family couldn't make it Miss Lerina," Alfred said with regret in his in tone. "They left gifts though," Tim butted in not giving Lerina an opportunity to frown, "Even Cassandra left one." Cassandra, she normally just gave her a card why would she give me a gift, Lerina thought. Catching her confusion Jason said, " She saw that you were looked down and decided to give you one." It made sense Cassandra could pick up on those sort of things with her unique body reading ability. "Enough chatter let's eat so we can dig into the cake in the kitchen and Lerina can open her presents!" Leilei exclaimed rushing the group. -- For the loneliness will stay with me And hold me till I fall asleep That was how I spent my night that day, happy with the people I care about. But that was a few days ago with today being my birthday everyone was on a mission as planned by the dark knight himself. Having enough of dancing I lay in my bed my bed trying to fall asleep as another memory fills my head. -- I'm a ghost of a girl That I want to be most I'm the shell of a girl That I used to know well "LERINA!" She jumped at her father's booming voice, "Yes?" she questioned poking at her food. It was 2 days after her little surprise party, only 3 days until her birthday so Bruce decided to give everyone a break to have a family dinner. Kamalei could be very persuasive when she needed to be, "I've been struggling to get your attention for the past five minutes." "My apologies, my mind was elsewhere," she received strange looks from her family but they were overlooked as she continued, "What were we talking about?" "tch," Damian expressed his annoyance gaining the attention of the family, "It's no wonder you're not allowed to join us on patrol," he sneered, "you're too much of a scatterbrain to even watch the monitors. It's a miracle how you've persisted long enough to make it 25 much less run the company without destroying it. A phenomenon really." "DAMIAN!" "MASTER DAMIAN!" her father and butler scolded, Lerina let out a frustrated sigh but ultimately ignored her youngest brother's offensive comment. "Rina is not a scatterbrain," Dick ranted, "Her brain just works differently and there's nothing wrong with that. She's fully capable of handling herself and the company. She has 15 years of experience and has been taking care of us, you included for 17!" "Let's not forget who saved you from getting suspended last week demon," Jason joined snarkily resuming his meal, "You should show some respect." "Lerina absence has nothing to do with her disabilities her skills are needed here outside of our nightly pursuits," informed Bruce sternly still angered by his blood son's outburst. "Also saying that because she has ADHD is the reason why she's not a vigilante is just as bad as saying Cassandra is a bad one because she has dyslexia," Tim added "Cain, has a usual skill that contributes to our cause Drake," Damian hissed at the former robin's response, "Oh so helping us keep our identities a secret isn't contributing then," he argued. Cassandra just shook her head, it was obvious this wasn't going to end well, "Damian that was-" "This doesn't concern you, Cain," the blood son interrupted, "Perhaps if she-" "OKAY! THAT'S ENOUGH," Lerina intervened she had grown tired of the arguing, "Thank you all for defending me and thank you, Damian, for that fascinating input but can we please for once try to have a pleasant family dinner?!" Dancing slowly in an empty room Can the lonely take the place of you I sing myself a quiet lullaby "Oh yes, mother bird we sure can," Tim replied smugly with a cheeky grin, "Sorry mother hen we didn't mean to ruffle your feathers," Dick teased, Lerina sighed as a rupture of laughter emitted from the table until it dialed down; Bruce picked up on the conversation and said, "To bring us back to the topic at hand we were discussing the mission since we'll be leaving tonight Kathy Kane, Duke Thomas, Stephanie Brown, Barabra Gordan, and Terry McGinnis will patrol over Gotham in our place." Another sigh escaped Lerina's lips, "Only you would bring crime to a normal family dinner." Let you go and let the lonely in To take my heart again "A shame we will miss your birthday Oriel," Damian cooed at his older sister, "Something much more important than you corrupted our schedule, pity." "Master Damian that is enough," Alfred scolded, "It's fine Alfred," she replied coolly," who'd want to spend their special day with the spawn of Satan anyway." Enraged Damian threw his knife directly at her face but before any could react Lerina caught and thrown it back at him just barely missing his head. "Just because I don't act upon those skills doesn't mean I don't have them," she said darkly before uttering a quick 'excuse me' leaving the dining room with her plate. -- Broken pieces of "YOU CAN'T HAVE HER BRUCE! YOU WOULDN'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO TAKE CARE OF HER!!" "Ms. Oriel, I know why you hate me but I'm her father, just give me a chance she deserves to know who I am at least," Bruce pleaded desperately with her Kamalei hoping for a positive answer. "NO, NEVER!" Kamalei shrieked in response to his begging, Lerina was 8 years old when she burrowed underneath the stairway listening to her father and grandmother bicker and fight over her as if she was a doll. -- A barely breathing story It wasn't the last time she heard her two guardians fought over her either, it took months for Kamalei to let her go. "I promise you, you will be happy here," Bruce spoke tenderly to his daughter he sounded like he was trying to prove to himself more than his child. "Why didn't mommy tell you about me," Lerina questioned, "I don't know," he answered honestly kneeling in front of his long lost daughter. Now at eye level with her, he continued, "What I do know is that she would be very happy we found each other and I will take very good care of you." -- Where there once was love "Come listen to the song I learned," Lerina said excitedly not noticing the young man her father had brought home, "It was originally made for violin but I was able to play it on piano!" He chuckled kissing his excited little girl on the forehead, "Let's take a rain check on that song, right now I want to introduce you to Richard Grayson." The boy waved at the girl when he was introduced," You can call me Dick." Lerina waved back she had seen him on the news earlier that day, "My name is Lerina Oriel-Wayne and I am your new sister." She began to pull the boy upstairs with her, "Let's go decorate your room, you'll right at home in no time!" Bruce smiled seeing his daughter taking in Dick so naturally, it warmed his heart. "Everything is going be okay I lost my mom when I was young it gets better. It doesn't feel like it now but it will," she said pulling him into a hug,. "Rina" "huh," she questioned not sure what he meant by that. "Can I call you Rina," he whispered smiling when she said yes. -- "What's the matter? Why are you crying JayJay," Lerina questioned the little boy who had climbed into her bed one stormy night. "I'm not crying," he clarified pouting, "I just wanted to make sure you're okay." With a warm smile, she lifted the covers to her bed, "Come on then, I need someone to protect me during this stormed," she swallowed a chuckled when he dove under the covers clinging to her body, "Goodnight Jason." -- "Tim it's not your fault,' she stated trying to soothe the child who was curled up in a ball in the farthest corner in his room. "They died, big sis! They are dead because I wasn't fast enough," Tim sobbed, "I was supposed to save them and I let them die!!" She scooped him up in her arm and rocked him side to side, "It's not your fault." "Bu-" "Did kidnap those hostages? Did you set up those bombs," Tim shook his head in response, "Then it is not your fault Timmy." He stayed silent taking in her words, " Let's go to sleep, I'll sing you a lullaby." For the first time, Timothy Jackson Drake slept the entire night away, what was left of it. -- Now there's only me "Go away, Rina!" Dick growled hearing knock on the door once again, "No Dick, I know you're blaming yourself for his death but it is not your fault!" "I should've been there for him." "There's nothing we can do about it now, why don't we just-" "JUST LEAVE IT LERINA! I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOU AND I DON'T WANT YOUR PITY!!" Tears falling down his face, Dick slumped on his bed head in his hands as her retreating footsteps. -- "Jason please this isn't you," she begged as the man she practically raised held her hostage just to get back at his adoptive father, "This is me, maybe you should get to know your brothers more before you start begging for your life," he taunted smugly. Being held captive by the Arkham knight in a dingy abandoned apartment building is not how you want to spend your Saturday but when can they Waynes get a break. "Jason, I do know you and you know deep down that they loved and cared for you. If you can't believe that then you at least know I did, remember let you into their bed when you had a nightmare?" "SHUT UP," he screamed and shot her in the leg, "You're only making this worse for yourself and I don't want to hurt you." "You couldn't have said that before you shot me in the leg," she replied sarcastically trying to get her mind off the pain, "Is there any way I can convince you to come home?" He glanced at her before redirecting his attention to a window, "No." "I see," she let out a sigh, "I love you Jason and I'm sorry." "Sorry for wh-" the night sky was the last thing he saw before everything turned black. -- "I wouldn't expect someone like you understand so please just leave me alone, I will go to sleep later," Tim grumbled typing swiftly on the keyboard striving to finish this case. He didn't even realize what he said. Lerina was always disregarded because of her disability, some even assume she can't understand the simplest tasks, hearing from family broke her heart. -- And the lonely "Lerina, I rely on you to take care of these matters without me so I can focus on more important tasks," Bruce grumbled annoyed at the paperwork that was stacked on his desk. "I'm sorry father but some of the paper and decisions need to be signed and made by the CEO of Wayne Enterprise himself and not his shoo-in or else it won't get done, unless you give me permission, " Lerina explained "Nevermind, I'll do it myself you can go," he dismissed her, "Oh and can you dress in something nice tonight I need you to impress a business partner." "Of course" -- Dancing slowly in an empty room Can the lonely take the place of you Dick and I used to be very close, of course, we were he was my first baby brother. We were together the longest it was natural for us. I don't know what happened throughout the years, we just stopped. Soon Jason and Tim came along but Jason doesn't stay at the manor unless it's truly necessary and Tim gets too caught up with his work. Bruce and I haven't been close in years and it's far too late to fix it now. Damian practically hates me more than he hates Tim. Cassandra and I just never clicked, we never had a chance to really. I had made my decision, I had made it long ago. I didn't even need to pack. -- I sing myself a quiet lullaby "Welcome back young masters, Miss Cassandra," Alfred spoke formally to the returning family, it had been a week, the mission had gone relatively smoothly but it had tired them out. "Good to be back Alfred," Dick spoke with a smile as they slumped on the couch. Something was off but they couldn't tell what. The answer was there but just out of reach but whatever off seemed to put a tense mood in the atmosphere. It was eerily quiet, they decided to focus their attention on a task to distract themselves. The silence was broken when the third Robin spoke up, "Where's Lerina? -- Let you go and let the lonely in I left my phone and my car at home, I didn't want to have anything that they could track when I reached my destination. "I need a place to lay low for awhile just until I make up my mind on where I'm going." "Took you long enough to leave those assholes." Lerina smiled stepping through the door. Her new life began now. To take my heart again

~Novella Quill

Next Chapter: Starting Over

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ladywritesthings · 5 years

Text

The Parts of You, ch37

AO3

---

‘I must be hallucinating,’ thought Nino vaguely, blinking away the after-effects of the bright pink glow that had faded nearly as quickly as it had come. ‘The pain must be getting to my head.’

Faint spots still danced across his vision but he ignored them for now. There were two things demanding his immediate attention at the moment, and neither of them made any sense.

Ladybug was… right there. And now she wasn’t, but… she was. Because in her place stood a quivering Marinette, disheveled hair barely caught in Ladybug’s loose ponytail, staring back at him with the expression of a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh no,” she squeaked.

“Oh dear,” murmured the second of the metaphorical elephants in the room, flitting out from behind Marinette’s head. “This is unfortunate,” the thing said, and tsk-ed quietly.

“I’m sorry!” whispered Marinette, although whether the sentiment was on behalf of or directed towards the bug-thing floating around her head was unclear and, frankly, he didn’t really care. “I’m sorry, oh my God, I’m so sorry, I messed up…”

“Oh, Marinette,” sighed the thing in a voice that sounded like bells, swooping down to nuzzle at Marinette’s cheek. “It was an accident, we’ll figure it out!”

‘Marinette?’ thought Nino dimly. ‘Ladybug? Marinette is Ladybug? Ladybug is Marinette is…’ He was starting to feel dizzy, yet also terrifyingly, vividly sane.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” said Marinette, whirling on him, eyes wild and desperate. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this, you weren’t supposed to find out at all, oh, and now we’re stuck—” Tears were forming in her eyes, spilling unnoticed down her cheeks in thick streams, all traces of her former Ladybug confidence gone like, well, magic as the color suddenly drained from her face. “Chat,” she breathed. And then she was going berserk, pounding and screaming at the unyielding door, the thuds of her fists sending tremors through the spindly wooden shelves lining the walls, lightbulb boxes and paper towels shuddering and bouncing.

“Marinette, stop!” yelled the tiny creature, trying vainly to calm the now-feral Marinette, whose fists were surely bruised and bleeding by now from the sheer force of her repeated blows.

And still Nino sat, staring unblinking at the scene unfolding before him, unable to do anything but… process.

“Nino!” cried the tinkling voice, and he was snapped from his daze as he suddenly found himself face-to-face with the bug-thing, its big blue eyes wide and urgent. “Help me,” it said. “She won’t listen to me.”

He opened his mouth automatically at the command but words wouldn’t come, his throat had closed in on itself and what could he possibly say to help a superhero on the verge of total collapse — no, not just a superhero, but his friend…

“Nino,” said the creature again, more gently this time but just as authoritative. “I know this must be quite a shock, but she needs you right now. Please.”

He swallowed, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Mari,” he croaked. She couldn’t hear him. “Marinette,” he tried again, louder.

Her screams of her absent partner’s name had subsided but her sobs and her desperate lunges at the door had not. Gritting his teeth, he summoned all his strength and lifted himself from his precarious perch on the stool, wincing as he limped clumsily the few steps to the door. “Mari,” he croaked again, a tentative hand reaching out to grab her fist before the next blow.

That simple touch seemed to sap all her remaining strength and she stood there, tears still streaming from wild eyes as she wavered and shuddered on the spot. And then she wasn’t anymore, because she nearly knocked him off his bad leg as she dissolved into fresh sobs against his chest, burying her face against his t-shirt as he clutched her close, awkwardly patting her hair in the most soothing way he could muster. It seemed like the only thing he could do.

The bug-thing hovered silently beside them, a grave expression on its face. “I’ll try to find something to eat,” it muttered, mostly, apparently, to itself. “People live here, don’t they? There must be food.” To him it added, “I’m sorry we had to meet this way, Nino. This is turning out to be a very… intense day, isn’t it?”

“Um,” said Nino, cradling a still-sobbing Marinette in his arms.

“I’m Tikki, by the way,” it said. “How silly of me to forget my manners, but you’ll have to excuse me.” It flitted towards the door, and paused. “If she asks,” it said, “just tell her I’ve gone to recharge. I’ll be back momentarily. And then we can see about fixing that door, shall we?” And then it went through the door — Nino blinked, sure he must have missed something — and was gone.

It took a few moments for Marinette’s hiccupping sobs to calm enough for her to catch her breath. “He needs me,” she whimpered into his chest, eyes bloodshot. “He’s waiting for me and he needs me, I was only supposed to be gone a few minutes…”

‘He?’ Nino stumbled blankly for a second before supposing with a sudden jolt: “he” would mean Chat Noir. Of course it would, because who else had she been screaming herself hoarse over? Chat Noir, the wild, flamboyant boy who was much more of a real person to Marinette than to the rest of Paris’s much more vague symbolic ideal; Chat Noir who, at this very moment, would be dodging bombs and biding his time while waiting for backup that wouldn’t — couldn’t, presently — come. A cold lump of horror slid its way into the pit of his stomach and settled there, hard and heavy as iron. “I — I’m sure he’ll be fine,” said Nino as his voice cracked, unconvincing even to himself.

She straightened, taking tremulous breaths as she sought to collect herself. “Oh, this day just keeps getting better and better,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes, mascara collecting in ugly rings under them and smearing on her skin. She glanced at him finally, a softer sort of concern tinging her expression now. “How’s your leg?”

He shrugged a one-armed shrug and winced as he did. “It’s been better,” he managed.

She took his arm and guided him gently back to the stool, careful not to disturb his ankle more than absolutely necessary. “I’m so sorry you got mixed up in all this,” she said quietly, kneeling beside him as he situated himself as comfortably as he could. “I never wanted any of you to find out this way. Or, y’know, at all, but…” She let out a weak, semi-hysterical kind of half-laugh that didn’t quite land.

He had a million things to say, a million wildly roiling thoughts fighting to be verbalized first, but when he looked at her all he could see was his friend, tired and scared, buckling under a kind of weight he could barely understand. “Yeah,” he said finally, pushing aside the Other Things for later. “Yeah, this sucks.”

She broke their held gaze, fidgeting without direction, looking haggard. “I’m sorry,” she said again, voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I should have been more careful,” she said viciously, lips pressing together in a harsh line. “I should have picked a better spot, I should have paid attention—”

“Hey, Marinette, this isn’t your fault!” he cut her off firmly. “You wouldn’t even be trapped in here if it weren’t for me.”

“You were my responsibility!” she spat, rounding on him with anger in her voice, but her eyes were nothing but regretful and terrified. “Everyone is my responsibility! Paris is my responsibility! And Chat…” She took a long, slow breath and looked at the ceiling, in an apparent attempt to quell any more rising tears. “He can’t handle this by himself, and I’m — I’m not there right now because I was stupid and careless…”

He gripped her shoulder before she could start crying again. “Hey,” he said softly. “Keep it together, yeah? We’ll figure this out.”

“Nino,” she whispered, voice wavering dangerously. “What if somebody dies?”

The question hit him like a punch to the gut but she kept going. “We’ve never had an Akuma this bad before — I mean, Jesus Christ, an actual terrorist? What if somebody dies because I was stupid enough to get locked in here and I couldn’t save them? What if Chat—”

“Hey now,” interrupted Nino shakily. “Don’t think like that, okay? We’re going to be fine, you hear me? They’re all going to be fine.” Through the sudden, violent barrage of intrusive thoughts racing through his mind — Alya’s broken body crushed under a pile of rubble, eyes unseeing behind cracked glasses; Adrien, burning; the mangled corpses of Kim, Alix, Rose, anyone he’d ever known, strewn across the sidewalk like ragdolls — he squeezed her shoulder in what he hoped was taken as a comforting gesture, despite it rapidly becoming more of a stabilizing gesture for himself than anything else.

She sniffled weakly and nodded, wiping at her nose with a half-hearted swipe of a fist as her gaze flicked across the room. “Where’s Tikki?” she asked.

It took a moment for “Tikki” to connect to “weird magical bug-thing that flies through walls” in Nino’s head. “Oh,” he said. “It, uh, said it needed to… ‘recharge’? It went through the door a few minutes ago, it said it’d be back soon to fix the door.”

“But I have cookies in my—” She stopped mid-sentence and groaned. “I told her to stop eating them unless there’s an Akuma, she promised! Those are for emergencies only!” She raked an exasperated hand through her hair, inadvertently yanking strands loose from her already haphazard ponytail. “I hope she’s back soon.”

“…She?” said Nino tentatively.

Marinette glanced at him, a tired half-smile quirking the corner of her mouth. “Yeah,” she said. “Tikki’s my kwami, she’s the one who gives me my power.”

He took a moment to consider this factoid. “I see,” he said, not really seeing at all.

Her smile turned sad. “We’re going to have a lot to talk about after this, aren’t we?” she said rhetorically.

He met her gaze. “Yeah, I guess so,” he agreed.

Marinette glanced up at the ceiling, expression hard as the faint smile slipped from her face. “It’s awfully quiet out there,” she said.

Nino tried not to think too hard about the implications of this.

Their attention turned suddenly to the door as a sharp clunk broke through the silence, and the bug-thing — Tikki — finally reappeared through the door. “I did my best with the lock,” it — she — said. “I’ve never actually tried to do that before, but dear Lucretia was quite handy with a hatpin, and she showed me a thing or two — of course, it’s been nearly 200 years—”

Marinette stood up as Nino’s train of thought stumbled over “200 years.” “After this, you and I are going to have a serious talk about what ‘emergency rations’ means,” she said sternly.

“Won’t happen again,” said the now-sheepish kwami.

“Tikki,” Marinette said, and her voice changed somehow as she did, “spots on!”

The bright pink light filled every inch of the small room. Nino squeezed his eyes tight but it permeated his eyelids, pressed past his shielded gaze, a flicker of warmth washing over him with the light. And just as suddenly, it was gone, and Ladybug had returned. Only, it wasn’t just Ladybug. Not anymore.

Nino stared at her with bare-faced wonder; ogling, really, barely even registering the embarrassment that would usually accompany such boldness. It was like something had snapped in his head — it really was just Marinette in spots. He couldn’t understand how he’d never seen it before.

She flexed her fingers and aimed for a kick at the door. It held fast, but only barely, a clear dent by the lock now. “C’mon,” she whispered as she kicked again.

The door buckled off its hinges on the third try, flying open with a bang. “Oh thank God,” she breathed, unhooking her yo-yo. She paused in the doorframe, glancing back on him briefly with an expression he couldn’t place. “I’ll be back for you,” she said, and then she was gone.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring vacantly at nothing with unseeing eyes. So many thoughts raced through his head, he didn’t know which part to focus on first, so he simply let them come. Marinette’s odd behavior and flimsy excuses over the years; mysterious disappearances whenever an Akuma showed up, finally explained. Her muscles, less “jacked,” as he had described them in the past — that description made her sound like a body builder — but clearly those of a gymnast, or else an agile superhero who spent more of her time sprinting over rooftops than down on the ground; defined, but lean, not bulky. Her quick defense of Chat Noir, especially if debating with classmates who was “better” between him and Ladybug; why would she sing her own praises when the partner who she relied on so heavily was right there?

A magical bug-creature, who could phase through walls and gave Ladybug her magic. Marinette risking her life, right now.

Alya.

Alya, constantly worried for Marinette’s safety and considering it paranoia. Alya, betrayed. Alya, rushing away from an exploding building, crushed to death under falling rubble…

There was some yelling, somewhere on the outside, a familiar female voice he would now recognize anywhere. A thump. Some quiet. And then the unmistakable shout of “Miraculous Cure!”

Tiny, glowing ladybugs swept through the building, gently wiping every trace of destruction away. The door, leaning weakly on its own hinges, was righted in a second, balanced innocently on the stupid, insecure bucket that had started the whole incident. They washed over him, clearing away the grime and the sweat, warming his ankle and suddenly the pain was gone. He flexed his foot experimentally. Completely healed. He stood, grabbing the step stool he’d been perched on, and replaced the bucket with it.

Honestly, who thought a bucket with wheels would be even slightly secure against such a heavy door? The bucket, now moderately warped from the weight of it, rolled innocently away. He stepped out.

The apartment was actually quite nice, once it wasn’t half-destroyed. He made his way down the modest staircase, the simple front door no longer a twisted hunk of metal and broken glass. Pushing it open, he saw hordes of people, immaculate and unhurt, swarming around the distant figures of Chat Noir and Marinette-Ladybug, looking slightly more out of breath than before but with an otherwise press-friendly smile gracing her face. He stood for a moment, watching the crowds milling, hesitating. Should he wait for Marinette? Should they walk together back to the park, or return separately?

…The park!

Adrien.

Alya.

He fumbled for his phone.

The line rang twice before she picked up. “Are you okay?” she demanded, not waiting for or offering a greeting.

“I — yeah, I’m okay,” he said, and suddenly he began to shake, his knees threatening to collapse under him at the sound of her voice. ‘She’s alive,’ he thought dazedly, taking long, quivering breaths through his nose. ‘She’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive…’ “Where’d you go? I lost you.”

He hadn’t meant for it to sound like an accusation, but she sounded nearly as relieved as he felt and ignored his tone. “I went home,” she explained in a voice that wavered with barely-restrained emotion. “After we lost each other, I-I ran into my sisters — they got separated from maman and I didn’t know where else to go… It was close enough to get to on foot but far enough away that the Akuma hadn’t touched our street yet…”

His heart fluttered and sank at the same time. “Your parents,” he said. “Are they…?”

“They’re fine,” said Alya roughly, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “They were the first people I called, Ella and Etta were crying so hard… Dad’s on his way right now, and Mom should be here any second.”

Nino collapsed against the brick wall behind him, dragging a hand across his face. “Good,” he said finally. “That’s… that’s good.”

“What about your parents?”

“They’re out of town,” he said, sinking slowly to the ground on his haunches as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Anniversary trip, they left this morning, thank God.”

“Thank God,” she echoed. “You should probably still call them. They’ll be worried sick once they hear.”

“They’ll probably hop on the next plane back,” he agreed. The thought of how anxious he’d been to get them on their way that morning, the relief he’d felt when they’d finally left and he had the house to himself for a rare week… How strange to think that had only been a few scant hours ago.

“Have you — hold on.” Alya’s voice cut off as the sound of her phone being shuffled around took over, and then a muffled chorus of “Maman!” and the shriek of relief from a grown woman’s voice filled Nino’s ears as the distant reunion could be heard in indistinct snippets over the phone line. Nino let it play out, the happy sobs of Alya’s little sisters filling him with a calm he couldn’t ever remember matching, and just as he’d begun to let himself drift the shuffling phone sounds were back. “Maman just got home,” Alya clarified unnecessarily. “I’m on my way back out. Have you heard from the others yet?”

“Ah — huh?” He snapped back to reality, and with him came a sudden rising dread. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“I can’t get through to Marinette or Adrien,” she explained urgently. “You either, until now. I’m heading back to the park, but you haven’t heard from them?”

“Um,” said Nino. When Marinette left him, she’d said she’d be back, but had failed to specify when. Or how. Or what he could and couldn’t share. His thoughts briefly turned to what Alya had said about Miraculous magic the other day and panicked. How much had she gotten right? What would happen if he accidentally slipped? Why hadn’t Marinette at least hinted at what to do when faced with the prospect of The Alya Inquisition? Why couldn’t there have been more time?

“A missed call from either of them? A text? Anything?” Alya prompted. Her voice was becoming increasingly worried, and Nino’s panic was rising.

And then, like an angel, he glanced around and there she was.

“Marinette,” he said.

“Marinette?” repeated Alya anxiously. “What about Marinette?”

“I — Marinette’s here. With me.” He gestured wildly and she made a beeline for him, hurrying over from the opposite direction from where he’d seen her and Chat last as he brandished the phone at her. “Here, prove to Alya you didn’t die.”

“Alya?” Marinette brightened instantly and grabbed the phone, running her fingers through the hair she now loosened from her wild ponytail. Her hands had been healed. Of course they had. “Oh, thank God… No, we’re fine. Did you…?” A pause. “Yeah, we’ll be there, we’re only a few blocks away. But…” Another pause. Her face paled slightly. “Are you sure?” she asked quietly, and then Nino was hit by it at nearly the exact same moment.

Adrien.

She seemed to read his thoughts as her phone was already out of her purse by the time he had the presence of mind enough to think to ask for it. She unlocked it quickly without looking, and Nino punched in the numbers without bothering to try scrolling through her contacts.

Three agonizing seconds ticked by as he held her phone to his ear.

A click. “We’re sorry, but the number you have dialed is unavailable at the moment. Please leave a message or try again later…”

He hung up and redialed. “We’re sorry, but the number you have dialed is…”

Again. “We’re sorry…”

Nino looked up and met Marinette’s waiting gaze, a sick pit in his stomach. Her expression steeled as he forced himself to shake his head. “Nino will keep trying,” she told Alya. “We’ll see you soon.” She hung up without saying goodbye.

He kept calling as they walked, each step increasing the icy feeling in his gut until the emptiness spread to his toes, his fingers, clouding his gaze. ‘Pick up,’ he willed Adrien silently, as Marinette gently steered him over curbs and around lampposts. ‘Pick up, pick up, pick up…’

In what seemed like hours and yet only seconds, hard pavement gave way to soft, springy grass, and still there was no answer other than the robotic, vaguely feminine voice on the other end of the phone. He’d lost count of how many times he’d tried — a dozen? A hundred? His fingers were numb, and still he hit redial…

“Mari! Nino!” And suddenly he wasn’t dialing anymore, because a sudden death grip around his neck and fiery hair in his face knocked the air from his lungs and the phone from his lungs as Alya rocketed across the park and folded him and Marinette together in a rib-crushing hug.

“We’re here, Alya,” soothed Marinette in a strangled voice as Alya sobbed openly onto their shoulders. “It’s okay, you can let go…”

“Bullshit, I’m never letting either of you go ever again!” came her muffled voice, buried somewhere in Nino’s shoulder, although the pressure around his neck mercifully lessened slightly. “God, I was so worried! The whole time I was with my sisters, trying to calm them down but the whole time I was thinking of you but now you’re here and you’re okay—”

“It’s all right, Alya,” said Marinette soothingly, petting her hair. “We’re fine. And you’re fine.” She gently but firmly loosened Alya’s death grips on them and turned to face her. “Is your family all right?”

“Yes, and so’s yours, by the way. Your mom called when she couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“I couldn’t get through,” lied Marinette, looking concerned and relieved all at once. “I guess the lines were all jammed up or something.” Nino watched her silently out of the corner of his eye. There wasn’t a trace of deception in her face, not that even Alya would have noticed right now.

“You didn’t hear from Adrien on the way back, did you?” asked Alya anxiously, looking between them as she wiped the residual tears off her face. “I’ve been texting and texting…”

“I… No, not yet.” He cleared his throat and tore his gaze away from Marinette, jumping back into the moment with some difficulty.

Marinette’s face fell, and that sinking, icy feeling in Nino’s insides returned. “Nino’s been calling, but… we hoped he might be with you,” she said.

There was a tense silence — Marinette biting her lip, hands wringing; Alya, suddenly looking ashen and small. Nino picked up Marinette’s discarded phone from the ground by his feet with fumbling fingers. “I’ll try him again,” he managed finally.

Alya’s phone was already in hand. “Nothing,” she said after a few seconds, looking sick.

“Well, try it again.”

Nothing.

“Okay,” said Marinette, pale but her face set with a determined calm. “Let’s just… stop for a moment. Breathe. Where would he go?”

“Home?” suggested Alya. “You know his bodyguard will have been scouring the city…”

The girls’ voices faded around him as Nino retreated into himself, weighing the possibilities. It could only have been, what? Ten minutes since the Lucky Charm cleared away the rubble? Twenty? Hardly enough time to do a full sweep of the city, even factoring in the limited area in which the Akuma had time to attack before Ladybug and Chat Noir put him down. There could be bodies all over the place, in forgotten alleys or empty apartment buildings; wherever people had retreated for cover.

Clearly they weren’t the only ones worried about loved ones either, considering everybody around them on the streets and in the park were on their phones or clinging to each other with sobs of relief. And Marinette said herself that she didn’t know the extent of her city-healing abilities…

Alya was by his side again, looking anxious as she tried the phone again. He felt his arms tighten around her automatically, feeling the warmth from her body trying and failing to ease some of the tension in his body, the monotonous tone from the phone still rattling around in his head; ‘We’re sorry…’

Through the sea of her hair, a familiar, stupidly tall blond head edged through the crowd, bobbing around like it was looking for something…

“Adrien!”

He was running before his brain caught up with his body, nearly knocking the girls over in his haste, tripping over his own feet and uneven ground and—

“You stupid idiot!” he yelled, nearly knocking Adrien to the ground as he squeezed him tight on impact.

“Dude,” protested Adrien in a wheeze, arms hovering only a split second before returning the hug. “What gives?”

“Answer your damn phone, dumbass,” said Nino, finally feeling the tears he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in flooding down his face. He didn’t even notice the girls following him until Alya crashed into them as well, Marinette in hot pursuit. “You stupid, goddamn idiot.”

Adrien let them dogpile him for a while before gently untangling himself to answer Alya’s clamoring demands about where the hell he’d been. After they’d got separated, he’d holed up in a clothing store a few blocks away, but hadn’t realized he’d dropped his phone in the confusion. He’d had to retrace his steps once the coast was clear, which was why he was the last one back, and had only just found it, kicked under the edge of a dumpster across the street from the park. Nino didn’t care how or why he hadn’t answered now. The only thing rattling around his head as he dried his face was the constant ‘He’s safe, he’s safe, he’s safe…’

“So, what now?” Adrien finished, glancing between them. “I… uh, don’t suppose there’s much call for the movies now, is there? Especially since I can’t imagine anything will be open just now.” The ghost of a grin flitted across his face and died.

“I want to hear about you guys,” said Alya, turning to Marinette and Nino. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, um, I just did a lot of running,” said Marinette sheepishly. “Kind of just… going wherever the Akuma wasn’t, you know? I found an apartment building and stuck around there for a while, and then I ran into Nino when Ladybug and Chat Noir caught the Akuma.”

It was so… strange, hearing her refer to herself like that. To Ladybug, knowing she was Ladybug. Nino felt a new level of appreciation for how difficult keeping the lies straight must be, and keeping herself from saying “I” or “we” when referring to the protectors of Paris.

“What about you, Nino?” said Adrien.

And then he blanked.

“Uh, well… I kinda ran around for a while when we got separated,” he stuttered after a moment. “I broke my leg—”

“What?” exclaimed Alya.

“I — um…” Marinette was watching him quietly, not pointedly, but he could see something behind her eyes; something willing him to please don’t fuck this up.

He couldn’t do it.

“Turned out,” interjected Marinette brightly after a few agonizing seconds, “we ended up hiding in the same building!” Alya and Adrien turned to look at her as Nino stared, partly grateful, partly shocked. “Yeah, Ladybug found him and dropped him off at the same apartment building I was in toward the end. ‘Course we didn’t find out until after it was all over and we came out of hiding, but isn’t that crazy?”

They all turned back to look at Nino, who coughed. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Crazy, huh?”

“Too bad she didn’t bring you to the same floor, right?” said Marinette lightly, nudging his leg with a toe. “Would have saved us a lot of panic, huh?” The gesture was casual, disguised as a playful act of camaraderie between two people who’d been through a harrowing ordeal — only he understood the hidden implication: ‘Play along.’

He coughed again gracelessly. “I was pretty glad to find you,” he admitted. “Since you never answer your phone and have a worse sense of direction than Alya, we might never have seen you again otherwise.”

“Hey, not cool,” protested Alya. “Too soon.”

“I’m just… glad you’re all okay,” said Adrien. “Sorry I freaked you guys out.” He looked between them all, a warm smile on his face, but… Was that Nino’s imagination, or did he seem… distracted? He wanted to shake himself. Of course there he was. They’d all just survived a terrorist attack, and a super-powered one at that. None of them were okay.

They were quiet for a moment, just savoring the fact that they were alive, that their families were alive and okay…

“So… what now?” said Alya quietly.

“I guess…” began Marinette, and then trailed off.

“Well, I’m pretty sure Nathalie and the Gorilla are looking for me,” said Adrien with a weary sigh, “so I should probably get a hold of them before they tear the city apart. Again.”

“I just wanna go home,” said Alya in a small voice, looking suddenly nearly as tired as Nino felt. “My mom didn’t want me coming back out so soon after she got back, but…”

“Me too,” agreed Marinette softly. “I guess, just… Stay safe?”

“We’ll talk later, yeah?” said Adrien with a half-hearted smile, and in the group hug that followed Nino pulled them all as close to him as he could, wishing to preserve the moment for as long as humanly possible.

But then the moment passed, and one by one they took their leave until only he and Marinette remained.

“So…” he said awkwardly after a pause.

“So,” she agreed with equal discomfort.

He cleared his throat with some difficulty. “So,” he began again, “when should I expect this… talk?”

Marinette looked down at her toes. “I have to see my parents first,” she said, “obviously. And—” She dropped her voice low, “—I… I have to see Chat, y’know, because we didn’t really get a chance to do… this after the fight.” She gestured vaguely at the teary civilians, and their own recently-disbanded reunion. “But I’ll stop by later, if that’s all right. Or you could come to my place, if you want…?”

“My place is probably better,” he said wearily. “My parents are out of town.”

She blinked. “Oh. Oh, I see.” She bit her lip. “D’you want to come to my place anyway, after I see Chat real quick? So you don’t have to be alone, I mean, I can meet you outside the bakery—”

“No, no,” he interrupted distantly. “Nah, I’ll be fine. I need to call my folks anyway.” A beat of silence. “Thanks, though,” he added hastily.

There was something behind her eyes, a deep sadness he tried very hard to ignore at present. “Are you… sure you’re all right, Nino?” she asked quietly.

Was he? Was anyone, right now? “I’m fine,” he lied.

She didn’t look like she believed him. “I’ll see you later, Nino,” she said, and then she, too, was gone.

He stood there for an indeterminate amount of time, just surrounding himself with the collective relief of Paris, the sudden and inexplicable peace after such a violent event. He kept his mind carefully blank, if only for that one moment, where he could pretend that none of it had ever happened, that nothing was wrong.

He opened his eyes and began to walk.

Time seemed immaterial at the moment. If he’d been asked, he’d have been hard-pressed to tell anyone how long it took him to get home, or which route he took. All he knew was that at some point, he found himself standing in front of his apartment door, and a few moments passed before he remembered to fish out his keys.

The apartment looked exactly as he had left it. Of course it did; why wouldn’t it? His laptop, snoozing on the kitchen counter. His breakfast dishes still piled in the sink. He’d left the bathroom light on by accident.

Nino sank into the couch, gazing blankly at his faint reflection in the darkened TV screen.

It was all… too much.

Calling his parents would be pointless — they probably hadn’t even landed yet, and if they had they hadn’t heard what happened, given the fact that they hadn’t blown up his phone yet; what would be the point in worrying them and ruining their vacation? So there was nothing to do but sit until Marinette-Ladybug showed up at his door.

He came to the sudden, terrifying realization that that was the last thing he wanted in the entire world.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want — no, need — answers; he did, desperately. As the silence of the apartment pressed in around him all he could see was the pink flash of light, all he could hear was Marinette’s terrified voice, ‘You weren’t supposed to find out like this…’

‘You weren’t supposed to find out at all…’

How long, exactly, had she been planning on keeping something like that a secret? Did she think she could just continue with this massive lie of a double-life for as long as she held the mantle of Ladybug, before quietly retiring an indeterminate number of years in the future without a word? Had she even thought that far ahead? Not like what happened today was in any way predictable, but still.

He didn’t want to know, didn’t want to have such knowledge forced upon him. He didn’t have Alya’s drive, her insatiable need to learn every dark secret Ladybug and Chat Noir had hidden away. He was content to live in the dark, let them live their lives as they wished. And yet here he sat, and all he could think about was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, clad in the red and black of one of Paris’s most prominent protectors.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but that only made the image brighter.

Marinette, her Ladybug suit melting away into jeans and sneakers.

Marinette, talking to a magical bug.

Marinette, beating herself bloody on the immovable door, screaming for her partner with a furious desperation he’d never seen the likes of before.

Everything Alya had told him swirled around in his head, mixing and matching with everything he could remember about Ladybug, everything he’d ever known about Marinette. Little quirks in Ladybug’s speech, half-remembered from Ladyblog streams past. Marinette’s every disappearance, and every Ladybug sighting moments later. Flustered excuses and panicked distractions melded together into one truth so brutal he could hardly bear to acknowledge, but knew he had to accept.

Marinette was a superhero, and she could have died today.

Even more so than any of the rest of them, and that scared him most of all.

He snapped back to reality at the sudden knock on the front door.

Opening it, he shouldn’t have been surprised to see Marinette standing there in the hall — looking tired, of course, and nervous, but more put-together than before — and yet he was, slightly, anyway. “You got here fast,” he commented.

She looked at him quizzically. “It’s been two hours,” she said.

Really? Glancing behind him out the window, he finally noticed how the light had shifted, the shadows longer than they had been the last time he checked. Huh.

“…Can I come in?”

He looked back at her, hovering in the doorway, and blinked. “Sorry,” he said, moving aside, and she flitted past him into the living room.

“Um,” he said as he closed the door, suddenly hyper-aware of his surroundings and the situation and her, “d’you, I don’t know, want something to drink?”

“Oh,” she said, looking almost as uncomfortable as he felt. “No, thanks, I’m fine.”

They stood there in awkward silence for what felt like an eternity, both staring at anything that wasn’t each other.

Well, there were no two ways around this; might as well rip the Band-Aid off and get it over with. “So,” he said to the floor. “You’re a superhero, huh?”

She surveyed the bookshelf in the corner. “Yeah,” she said.

“Fighting crime,” he continued at a lamp. “Saving the day. Kicking ass.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re… Ladybug.”

She reddened slightly. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

It was a struggle, but he forced himself to meet her hesitant gaze. “So,” he said. “Parkour, huh?”

The split second of silence as she processed his remark was deafening, but then she cracked a grin, a relieved, genuine smile that seemed to melt some of the tension away. “To be fair,” she said, “it wasn’t exactly a lie.”

He gestured to the couch and they both sat down, albeit a bit farther apart than they might have before. Baby steps. “How are your parents?” he asked, picking imaginary lint off his jeans.

“Fine,” she sighed. “Dad cried a lot when I got home. They didn’t want me coming out again so soon, but I told them you were home alone and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You may or may not be expected for dinner until your parents come home.” She side-eyed him. “That wasn’t a lie either, you know,” she added softly. “Wanting to make sure you were okay, I mean.”

He cleared his throat. “Do they, uh, do they know?”

She looked away. “No,” she said. She sounded almost ashamed. “No, you’re the only one.”

He looked up in surprise. “The only one?” he repeated. “Doesn’t Chat Noir know?”

Her ears went red, and there was definite shame in her voice when she admitted, “No.”

“How — but why?” A thought struck him. “Do you know who he—”

She shook her head, picking at a loose thread in the seam of a couch cushion. “No,” she said quietly. “We can’t know. We’re not supposed to. Nobody is. Maybe someday, but—” She cut herself off and shook her head again. “We shouldn’t,” she reiterated. “It’s too dangerous.” She fiddled with the thread, a bundle of nervous, directionless energy, and sighed again. “It’s like,” she began again, and stopped.

Nino let her collect her thoughts, his own mind tripping over itself with questions and exclamations and the need to scream, but he let her figure out the words first. It was her secret, after all. Her life.

“The whole time I’ve been Ladybug,” she said finally, “protecting my identity has been, like, the most important thing. The most important, even more important than stopping Hawkmoth, because we can’t fight him if he knows who we are, y’know? He could just… find us, send Akumas after our families, take our Miraculous. It’s like this constant cloud over our heads. We can’t tell the people closest to us, because they might get Akumatized. And we can’t tell people who’ve already been Akumatized, because they might get Akumatized again…” Her fist clenched. “We don’t even know if we can get Akumatized — that’s the scariest part. And even if we can’t, he’s been controlled by them enough that… I can’t even trust him with that part of myself, and I trust him more than—” She cut herself off, exhaling as the fist slowly released its grip. “We argue about it sometimes. And I’ve been so paranoid for so long…”

“…You don’t know what to do,” finished Nino quietly. “Now that I know.”

She looked at him. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she said.

“Of course not. But I’m a problem now.” It wasn’t meant as a jab, just a statement of fact, but she winced anyway.

“I wouldn’t say ‘problem,’ exactly…”

“No, I get it.” He shrugged lopsidedly. “Trust me, it’s a problem for me, too. Like, how am I supposed to cover for you? Because I can’t lie, you know that.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, looking lost.

“Of course I will,” he continued, less to her now and more to himself, “obviously. But I won’t like it.”

She reached for him hesitantly, but couldn’t quite seem to bring herself to touch him. “I’m sorry, Nino,” she said.

He sighed. “Don’t be,” he said. “Honestly.”

“You shouldn’t be in this position,” she said, and to that he had nothing to say. So they sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own heads.

“Where’s your… uh, friend?” he asked delicately, as a way to break the awkward lull in conversation.

“My… Oh, you mean Tikki?” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “She’s, ah, in my my purse. We figured it would be better that way, I guess. Easier.”

He frowned. “Why did you bring it — sorry, her, then? If you didn’t know if I could take it?”

“She’s always with me,” said Marinette quietly. “She has to be, y’know? Because of the Akumas.”

Of course. What a stupid question. Nino kicked himself mentally and cleared his throat. “You can… You can come out now, um, if you want,” he said, a little too loudly. He felt like an idiot, but then he heard a soft zipping noise and looked down to see Marinette’s purse opening on its own. As if by magic, or so it would have seemed were it not for the tiny paws reaching up through the zipper to move it. He stared.

The little bug thing — he had to stop calling her that, she had a name — poked her head out. “Hi, Nino,” she squeaked.

Nino blinked. “What’s hangin’, little dude?” he said faintly. He could feel himself beginning to detach at the sight of her. It wasn’t right, wasn’t real, he couldn’t take this — but he did. He could. He forced himself to stay present.

He’d turned into a supervillain controlled by a butterfly, after all. For daring to believe his best friend should have a birthday party.

This should be a piece of cake.

“Do you guys want anything?” he asked suddenly, jumping to his feet. “A snack? A drink? I think I have some Pepsi in the fridge…” He was babbling. He could handle this. Of course he could. He just needed to… move. Around. Sitting was boring, anyway.

“Oh,” said Marinette. She and Tikki exchanged glances. “I’ll have some water, I guess. Since you’re offering.”

“Great,” said Nino, clattering around the kitchen aimlessly. Glasses, where were the glasses? He felt like a stranger in his own home, and it took him two tries to open the right cupboard. The tap sounded awfully loud as he ran a fumbling finger through the stream of water, checking the temperature out of habit without really feeling.

“Do you have any cookies?” asked the tinkling voice of Tikki. He nearly dropped the glass in the sink.

“Cookies?” he repeated shakily.

“She prefers sweets,” explained Marinette from the couch.

He rummaged through some more cabinets to fish out a half-filled roll of Oreos. ‘Do kwamis need plates?’ he wondered uncertainly. He brought one anyway, the tiniest tea saucer he could find, although it was probably still larger than her entire body. On the way back, he hovered for a moment in front of the fridge before grabbing a can of soda for himself. Normally he’d have a Red Bull or some other highly caffeinated sleep-substitute, but he was high-strung enough as it was. He didn’t really want the soda, either, but at least now he’d have something to do with his hands.

He set everything down carefully on the coffee table, arranging everything meticulously in front of them. However, there were only so many ways one could stack Oreos on a plate before it started to look weird, and his stalling time ran out. There was nothing else for it but to sit back down and face the music. “There you go,” he said unnecessarily, not quite settling back down into the cushions.

“Thank you, Nino,” said Tikki brightly, fluttering over to the pile of cookies and perching on the rim of the plate. She took one — it was nearly as big as her head — and bit down in the tiniest bite he’d ever seen. He knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn’t help it. She certainly seemed to take no notice.

“You might want to let go of that Pepsi,” suggested Marinette quietly, “before it explodes on you.” He looked down to see his knuckles were white around the can, and there was already a dent in the metal from his thumb. He hastily set it down, but the dent remained.

“So…” he said awkwardly. “You’re… Tikki.”

Tikki swallowed with a delicate gulp and smiled. “Yes, I am.” Nino opened his mouth to say something, hovered for a moment, and closed it again. Tikki’s smile turned matronly, or as close to it as her strange features allowed. “I’m sure you have questions,” she prompted gently. “It’s alright. I answered them for Marinette.”

Nino glanced between them uncertainly, taking in Tikki’s strange patience and Marinette’s nervous encouragement, and swallowed heavily. “What…” He gripped the knees of his jeans, fingers tightening on the loose denim until the knuckles went white again. “What are you?” he asked quietly.

Tikki settled back on her pile of Oreos. “I am a kwami.” Nino looked at her blankly and she considered for a moment. “A sort of demigod, I suppose,” she said. “Marinette can call me to her Miraculous and access some small part of my power, when she needs to.”

Nino’s gaze slid back to Marinette, who was looking at him carefully. “What’s your Miraculous?” He paused. “I mean, where is it?”

Marinette gestured to her earrings, angling her head so her hair fell away. The studs were plain, dark stones — she’d been wearing them forever. Since collège…

Of course. He’d never been as into the Ladyblog as Alya would have liked, so it took him a second to put it together, but when he did he felt silly for not doing so sooner. His stint as an Akuma was vague, the memory faded by time and post-cleansing amnesia, but he’d seen enough attacks since to remember the manic demands from Hawkmoth’s henchmen. Ladybug wore earrings too, red and black like her suit. Like Tikki. Because Tikki…

“How long have you known?”

Marinette considered her cuticles. “I’d only had my earrings for a day or two when Ivan was turned,” she said. “They just… turned up in my bedroom. I found them when I got home one day. I had no idea where they came from. And then there was this… bug-mouse flying around, telling me I was a superhero and I had to fight an actual supervillain…” Her voice softened. “I didn’t know what I was doing. It was… just so much.” Nino could sympathize. She paused for a moment and smiled. “You’re taking this very well,” she said. “When I first met Tikki I tried to attack her.”

That was… understandable. “Wait, really?”

She chuckled. “Threw everything at her but the kitchen sink.”

“And then you trapped me under a water glass,” added Tikki in an amused tone.

Nino blinked. “But you can go through walls.”

Marinette looked embarrassed. “Well, I didn’t know that at the time,” she said.

His hands were still trying to shake, so he released his death grip on his jeans and folded them carefully into his lap. His mind, however, was surprisingly calm. Tikki spoke in measured, lilting tones that were surprisingly calming, Marinette interjecting occasionally with a clarification or anecdote. He found himself asking fewer and fewer questions even than before — he didn’t even know what he didn’t know, so he simply let them take the reins and allowed the revelations to wash over him. An explanation of Ladybug’s powers and transformation. A brief rundown of what Alya had already figured out about the magic, with an added clarification here and there. Marinette reliving the first Akuma attack. A quiet smile as she recalled literally running into Chat for the first time.

And that was another thing.

“How’s he going to react to this?” Nino asked, speaking for the first time in what felt like hours. He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “I mean, you have to tell him, right? This is kind of… big.”

Marinette went quiet for a moment, a cloud passing over her expression. “I… I don’t know,” she admitted haltingly. There was silence again as she pursed her lips, picking at the loose thread again absently. “It was an accident, I’m sure he’ll understand that. But…” She trailed off.

“Marinette?” he prompted, but she stayed silent. “Mari,” he said again, more insistent this time as he finally understood her expression. “You can’t just not tell him.”

“Of course,” she said, but she didn’t sound happy about it. “I couldn’t keep this from him, even if I tried, I know that, it’s just…” She slumped forward slowly, hands dragging down her face before coming to rest on her chin as she stared blankly into space. “It’ll be hard,” she said. “You don’t understand. It hasn’t even been a week since…” She trailed off again, a flush starting creeping up her ears, still frowning at nothing.

“Since what?” he prompted when she didn’t finish her sentence.

She sighed and slumped back instead, sinking into the cushions. “We had a huge fight,” she said. “When that rainstorm hit the other night. It was horrible. There was this whole—” She gestured vaguely at nothing as she searched for a suitable description, “thing about a girl who triggered the magic for him, in his civilian life, I mean, and he told me about it, and it was… It was a mess.” Her expression twisted. “And then there was an Akuma attack in the middle of it all, and—”

“An Akuma?” interrupted Nino. “There wasn’t anything on the Ladyblog about it.”

Marinette shrugged. “It was late,” she said, “and absolutely pouring. The streets were deserted — I don’t know why that woman was out driving in the first place, you could barely see a thing. There were apartments and stuff, so I’m surprised nobody saw us from their windows, but if they did I’m honestly glad nobody tried submitting any pictures. That whole night was…” She sighed, running her hands over her face, through her hair. “It was something, all right. We don’t need that all over the internet.”

Nino frowned. “That was Tuesday, though,” he said. “You guys seemed pretty chummy on Wednesday. Not like you’d been fighting.”

“You noticed that, huh?”

She was hiding something. He squinted at her. “What?” he asked.

Her ears were well and truly red now, even though her expression betrayed nothing. She looked down, away, pursed her lips, fingers absently worrying at the loose thread. “We… kissed,” she said finally, almost embarrassed.

“What?”

“Well, I kissed him first, but then, well…” She trailed off, blushing furiously. “You know how it goes,” she mumbled.

“You kissed Chat Noir?” Nino didn’t know what to do with himself, reeling at the admission. Conflicted on whether to slump back or jump to his feet in shock, to yell or sit in silence, never mind what to do with his hands… He settled for clutching his hair.

“What, like I couldn’t pull a hot blond guy after what happened?” said Marinette, her voice laced with a defensive tone.

“What? No! I mean… what?” He was wringing his cap in his hands with no clear memory of how it got there. On a day that had felt like getting punched in the stomach multiple times in a row, somehow this was the revelation that had sparked the most reaction. Magic? Sure. Secret identities? Whatever. Marinette getting some with her partner? Stop the presses, hold the phone. Madness. He’d sort through his priorities later.

“It’s not that weird,” she said, sounding slightly miffed.

He waved his cap dismissively. “It’s not that,” he said impatiently. “It’s just… Chat Noir.” She looked at him blankly. “Chat Noir,” he said again for emphasis.

“Oh, that’s right, you don’t actually know him,” she said. “He’s just a giant dork, honestly.”

“A celebrity superhero giant dork,” he corrected her. “Who wears a leather catsuit and has fangirls and gets cosplayers at fetish conventions. That Chat Noir.”

“Who also regularly stops patrols to pet stray cats and who cried on my shoulder for an hour and a half after I made him watch Titanic for the first time,” countered Marinette, the tiniest hint of a smile quirking up a corner of her mouth. “Really, it’s not that big of a deal. Well,” she amended, her cheeks turning slightly pink again, “it’s not not a big deal, but just not like that…”

Nino finally sank back into the cushions, puffing out his cheeks as he exhaled and put his now severely wrinkled cap back in place. “Boy, you sure can pick ‘em,” he said, finally cracking the can of Pepsi with a soft hiss.

She smiled bashfully. “Tell me about it,” she agreed.

“How does something like that even happen?” he said. “I mean, you fight, kick ass, then, what, make out in an alleyway in the rain? With your superhero partner? Like, what?”

She paled. “I thought there weren’t any pictures,” she breathed.

“What? No, I just mean…” He reached for the gently sweating Pepsi can and cracked it absently. “Is your life an actual movie or something?” he said. “What the hell?”

“I wish it wasn’t,” she said dully. “Not that I don’t love Tikki, or care about Paris or anything, but I just wish—” She stopped. Sighed. “Everything’s so complicated,” she said.

He couldn’t disagree.

“I tried to give them to Alya,” she confessed finally, through the silence.

Nino nearly choked on his soda. “Give—” he spluttered.

“My earrings,” she clarified unnecessarily. “I tried to give them to Alya. After everything went so wrong with Ivan.” Curled up on the cushions as she was, she looked smaller somehow, as if the admission had shrunk her down to a child again.

Nino set the can down carefully, wiping soda off his chin. “Why?” he said after a moment.

She didn’t answer immediately. “She was so… confident,” she said finally. “So sure of herself, and so unafraid. Not like me. And she loves superheroes. She was so… excited when everything started happening. No powers at all, and yet she hurled herself into the middle of it all anyway. Just imagine how she’d be with magic.” A small smile twitched up as the image settled over them both. Of Alya, with her wild hair and righteous sense of justice, raising hell in black and red.

Alya.

He glanced at her as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, eyes cast down, lost in thought. “I thought a lot about it afterwards,” she said quietly. “Even after I decided to stay. About how different things would have been. They would have been easier…” She shook her head. “No, not ‘easier.’” She paused. “Simpler, I guess.” She hunched down lower, arms wrapping around her knees as if that could protect her. “I’ve never told anyone that before either,” she said.

He didn’t know what to say, but he had barely been able to keep up all day anyway. “She would have been a good Ladybug,” he agreed slowly. “But she wouldn’t be you.”

She blushed at that, frame relaxing a little. “Thanks, Nino,” she said. “It’s still one hell of a mess, though.”

“True,” he said.

“And that’s why telling Chat is gonna be a nightmare,” she continued. “Tuesday was the biggest fight we’ve had about it, and then… things…” She trailed off, embarrassed. “I don’t know what we are anymore,” she admitted in a small voice, “but I don’t want to ruin it.”

“It was an accident, though. It was out of your control.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “But I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

“Would it… help if I talked to him?”

She glanced at him, a mixture of confusion and vague surprise on her face.

“I mean—” Nino swallowed, hardly believing the words about to come out of his mouth, “—if you’re worried about him getting mad, I mean, or blaming you or something, would it help if I was there? I could explain the situation, y’know. And maybe it would help to meet me for real, if he’s worried I might talk or something…”

“That’s…” She smiled a little, relaxing in her seat. “That’s really nice of you, Nino.” She took a thoughtful sip of her water and set it down again carefully, lips pursed. “I’m not really worried he’ll be mad, exactly. I think he’ll just be disappointed. Hurt, maybe.” Her expression twisted and she looked back at him out of the corner of her eye. “Could I keep you on retainer?” she asked jokingly. “I think I should talk to him alone first, but, like, just in case…”

“Anything you need.” The promise came automatically, and just like that, it was settled in his mind. Marinette needed him. There was no question; of course he would help her in any way he could.

She smiled again. “You might get a visit from him anyway,” she said. “Just… be warned. Even if he isn’t mad or anything, he’s still pretty protective of me. He’ll want to make sure you can be trusted.”

“I can take him.”

He absolutely couldn’t, but he made her chuckle, at least.

“And anyway,” he added, “Alya would want someone to interrogate the boyfriend. Make sure he’s good enough for you.”

She started laughing for real then, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said. “At least, I don’t think he is. He’s just… my partner. Who I like a lot. And kiss sometimes.”

“You’re right, my mistake, sounds completely platonic to me.”

“But…” And here she sobered a little, mid-laugh, the pink fading slightly from her skin. “I’m sorry about Alya, I know you hate lying to her.”

The reminder made his chest tighten, but he shook it off. “She doesn’t know I know anything,” he rationalized. “I won’t have to lie if she doesn’t ask.”

“I know, but her investigations…” Marinette sighed, massaging her temples with a finger. “She promised she’d drop it, and I want to believe her, but you know how she is sometimes. Especially lately…”

“I won’t say anything,” he promised. “Honestly, I don’t know if I can.” He glanced at Tikki out of the corner of his eye, who was now on her third Oreo. Once he’d gotten over his initial shock, he was surprised to find she looked kind of cute. Like a living stuffed animal, with unsettlingly large eyes. “Can I?” he said.

Tikki swallowed delicately. “You could,” she said. “But the magic knows it’s not your secret to tell.”

“What does that mean?” asked Marinette.

“It means,” said Tikki, “if you slip up on accident, you won’t reveal Marinette as Ladybug. But I’d be—” And here she paused a moment, considering, “—careful about what you say, or how much. The magic can have… consequences.”

Marinette and Nino exchanged glances. “Cool,” he said, in a voice slightly too high. “That’s cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

“You’ll… you’ll be fine,” said Marinette encouragingly. She wasn’t fooling anyone. “Just, like, don’t say anything, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” His hands were starting to sweat as he picked up the Pepsi can again. “Just don’t be suspicious around Alya, that’s all. No worries.” The soda was gone before he realized he’d been chugging it.

“I-I’ll talk to Chat tonight,” said Marinette finally in the silence. “Or maybe tomorrow, I guess. I need to plan out what I’m gonna say.”

“Great,” he squeaked. “Sounds great.”

“Hey,” she said suddenly, standing up, “let’s get out of here. You hungry?”

“Hungry?” The concept seemed foreign to him over the crushing sense of existential dread that had just settled over his shoulders, but his stomach rumbled in spite of himself.

She smiled and beckoned to Tikki, who swooped up and into her open purse, zipping it after herself. “My dad’s making some major comfort food tonight; he always cooks when he’s upset.”

He shook himself, setting the can down with exaggerated care. It was slightly crushed now, and tilted awkwardly to one side. “You sure?” he said. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

She fixed him with a look. “Of course not,” she said. “And honestly, if I showed up at home without you, I’m pretty sure my mom would march right back here and drag you home herself. I told you, you’re expected.”

Seeing her standing there, looking down at him with an expression of such warmth that simultaneously left no room for argument, he let out a half-hearted sigh and got to his feet. “Alright,” he said. “Let me grab my stuff.”

“I’m sorry again, Nino,” she said as he cleaned off the coffee table and dumped dishes in the sink.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “I’m okay, really.”

“I know this day didn’t turn out how any of us wanted, but…” She smiled a little sheepishly. “I guess if it had to happen like this, if it had to be anybody but Chat… I’m glad it was you, and not some stranger.”

“A ringing endorsement.”

“Sorry.”

He remembered to switch off the bathroom light before they left.

#ml tpoy fic #fanfiction #LadyNoir #Lady writes things #miraculous ladybug

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rebelminxy · 5 years

Text

EVERGARDEN-Chapter 2

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Alessa Clyde (NoVa) x Dean Winchester

A/N: Aesthetic was made by @riversong-sam! No beta until further notice. Our sweet @bees0are0awesome is busy with her own pieces and I ask everyone to send her some positive vibes as she creates her beautiful works of art! So any mistakes are my own.

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

“Dean! Dean!”

Dean slid from under the old car that he was in the process of tearing up for parts. He saw Kevin with a frantic look on his face, looking around the shop.

“What's wrong, Kevin?”

“I suggest you clean up, Sam is back,” Kevin said nervously as his eyes landed on Dean.

“And?”

“Well, he arrived with more than the cart and Charlie.”

Dean stared at Kevin with a confused look, making Kevin huff in annoyance.

“Members of the Knights are with them!”

Dean went to jump up, forgetting he was still slightly under the car, bumping his head in the process.

=============================================================

Sam looked at his brother and best friend, Kevin as Charlie escorted the Knights into the back of the shop. Dean did his best to clean up quickly, Kevin being all fussy about his attire. Once Sam was inside the shop, he quickly explained to Dean what happened along the road, Dean pulling his little brother into a hug. The brothers had made a deal to not get into the fighting in fear of losing each other. Dean had to accept Sam's offer of fixing the Knights parts, free of charge since they saved Sam and Charlie.

As the four of them stood next to each other, they watched how the hooded figure walked around carefully. She had ordered the Knights to search the home for any exits.

“As Knights, we can never be too careful, many want our heads,” she explained as the men did their work.

“Unfortunately, there are only two exits out this place, the front, and back door,” Dean said as he finally moved about the kitchen, Charlie right behind him.

“Any small opening can be made into an exit,” the hooded figure pushed back.

Sam and Kevin began arranging the dining room table as Dean and Charlie got to heating up last nights leftovers. Dean was glad he made enough for the next two days, always trying to stretch out food when they were low on things. Once the soldiers were done with their search, Sam guided all five to sit at the dining room table. Within seconds that they sat down, Dean and Charlie arrived with five plates filled with a bowl of beef stew and a side of cooked vegetables. Charlie placed a basket of bread that Dean had purchased that morning. All five looked at each other and the four soldiers began to dig in. It seemed they were testing to see if the food was poisoned because, after a few spoonsful of stew, the hooded figure began to eat.

Dean felt a moment of pride when she groaned in pleasure at her first bite.

“Who cooked this delicious stew?” she asked before taking another bite.

“My brother Dean is the cook in our home. Give him anything and he can make something magical,” Sam bragged with a smile, causing Dean to feel slightly embarrassed.

“Props to the chef then!” exclaimed a soldier.

“Wish you traveled with us, all we get to eat is slightly charred of whatever we catch since the Mistress can't cook worth her life,” groaned out another, receiving a glare from their Mistress.

“We mostly stop in towns to eat but we haven't come along something this delicious,” she added, the soldiers nodding their head in agreement.

“Reminds me of the stew my mother use to make, before the Takeover,” whispered one soldier, the youngest looking one of the bunch.

Dean could see the kid’s watery eyes, and his Mistress got out her seat immediately and pulled at his arm to make him turn, pulling him into a hug. They all watched on as the kid cried into her shoulder, her hands rubbing his back.

“He lost his mother in the rampage at the start of everything. She was one of the many that were killed by PK-er's,” a soldier whispered to Sam and Dean. “Our Mistress happened to be there when it happened, taking the poor boy under her wing. She has become his older sister of sorts, adopted by her guild. The only reason why he is with us is that she didn't want to leave him behind, afraid he would be put to fight at the Tree.”

Sam looked at his brother before they both turned back to look at the girl comfort the boy. He couldn't be older than 16, and here he was, crying into the arms of a woman who saved him. Sam felt his heart being pulled, feeling so many things at that moment. Once the boy was done crying, his Mistress wiped away his tears and smiled up at him. It was a sweet smile, a smile of comfort, her saying to the boy that everything was alright.

But that smile made Sam and Dean’s heart jump. They had only known this girl for a bit, yet something about her had them both wanting to make her smile more.

As she got up from the boy’s side, she went back to her seat and continued to eat as if nothing had happened. Dean and the rest of his friends excused themselves, leaving the five in the dining room as they made their way to the sitting room.

=============================================================

“Thank you again for the meal, but we must be on our way,” a soldier said, the rest of their group making their way towards the front door.

“Wait, I promised you my brother can fix your leg,”

“What he needs to fix may take days, and we don't have that kind of time,” she pushed back. “Thank you for the offer but it might have to be another day if we come back.”

“Let's see what the damage is and I can let you know how long it would take me,” insisted Dean.

“You don't have to worry…”

Dean grabbed her hand which caused the soldiers to move into attack mode, swords out.

“I insist. I still owe you for saving my brother and best friend's life, they mean the world to me and don't know how I would have handled their death.”

She looked at Dean, her eyes wide. Dean looked into her bright blue eyes, his green ones begging for her to stay a bit longer. She hesitated for a moment before a sigh escaped her lips.

“Fine, but I am telling you, the last guy that tried took him days to even get it working,” she huffed as Dean let her go.

She waved to her soldiers to stand their ground and followed Dean to the shop out front. Sam went along, leaving Charlie and Kevin with the soldiers in the house. Sam made it clear to the soldiers that she would be ok with them in the shop and to take a break while Dean fixed her leg. Once the three were in the shop, Dean guided her to sit down on a high table. Before she jumped up, without hesitation, she removed her pants and climbed up on the table. Dean and Sam did their best to look away as she sat there in just her panties, but they both couldn't help but think how cute it was. This warrior of a woman and here she was wearing pink panties with kittens on it.

She looked at them and rolled her eyes.

“You live with a woman and act like you have never seen a female body?”

“Never in these circumstances,” Dean said as he pulled up his chair to sit by her leg.

He took in a deep breath to focus on the task at hand, examining her leg and the parts.

“So, should we start calling you Mistress or…” began Sam.

“Please don't. I get enough of that back home.”

“So, what's the name?” asked Dean.

“NoVa.”

“Nova as in a gamertag?” asked Sam.

“Yes, and to be more specific, the N and V are capital.”

“You still use your gamertag as a name?” pushed Sam, crossing his arms.

“It helps to not make this all a reality. If I use my real name, I have to acknowledge that this is the real me here and not my character.”

“So, hide behind a character, not the smartest move,” Dean implied.

“At least it keeps me sane, somewhat.”

“Well, do what you gotta do sweetheart,” Dean groaned out as he got up from his chair. “But whoever took days on that knows nothing about mechanics. The only issue you have is a few springs not placed right and some connections that aren't set right. You have been having trouble controlling it haven't you?”

NoVa nodded.

“Give me an hour and I will have it working good as new. And we can even change the hydraulics pump on this, so you can run faster and jump better. If you want, we can modify it however you want. Would take about another hour but depends on you.”

“I can do with no mods for now.”

Dean extended his hand out to her, causing her to look up at him confused.

“The name is Dean Winchester, and this is my little brother Sam. We haven't really been properly introduced so might as well since you are going to be with us for a bit.”

She took his hand and shook it gently, doing the same when Sam extended his hand out.

“Glad to make your acquaintance.”

=============================================================

“I remember where I heard your name from!”

Dean looked up from the leg he was working on, almost doing the last touches. Sam poked his head out from the office, having just finished making an appointment with someone who needed work done.

“You are the Team Free Will guild!”

“Wow, didn't think you would know something like that,” Sam laughed as he made his way towards the table NoVa was sitting on.

“Everyone at the Tree has heard about your guild. How you protect this town and how fierce fighters you all are. Plus, you are part of the top ten guilds before all this. But aren't there five of you?”

“Our fifth member, Garth, owns the farm we were coming from before the attack. He is a friendly guy but likes to keep to himself most of the time,” Dean answered as he finished up his work. “And here we go!”

NoVa looked at Dean with excitement as he walked over with her leg. He did the quick fixings of nerves to wires and once he had her leg fully connected, he backed up to stand with Dam, admiring his work.

“I gave it a titanium shell, so everything wouldn't be so exposed. The pump should function for another year as long as you oil it right and even added a few more pumps to increase your speed and jumps. The bottom sole is made of a rubber sole that bounces against any sound, making that leg silent when walking. And yes, added the rubber onto your other shoe. Made it removable too if you ever want to switch boots.”

NoVa jumped off the table and began twisting her leg, getting a try out of it. She ran across the room, laughing at how fast she was going. Dean looked over at his brother, who never once dropped his eyes from the running girl. Dean knew with that look; his brother was entranced by this girl the same way he was. Dean gasped when NoVa was standing in front of them, laughing.

“Thank you for this. It feels great and actually lighter than before.”

“He exchanged a few old heavy parts for some new ones we had,” said Sam.

“You didn't have to go to that extent!” she exclaimed with a small whine.

“Anything for the girl that saved the lives of those I truly love,” Dean replied.

As NoVa walked around the room with her newly repaired leg, she stopped suddenly and turned to look at the men.

“Join me.”

The boys looked at each other, then back at her, confused by what she meant.

“By what I saw with Sam and your friend, you must be great fighters. I am on my way to the Tree to help clear out the next level and a guild like yours would be a great assistance.”

“Sorry, no can do,” Dean immediately replied.

“Please, I wouldn't ask anyone else.”

“No is no. I wish we could, but we can't.” Dean insisted.

“Dean, I want to join her.”

Dean turned around to look at his brother as if he were crazy.

“I mean, we have been staying safe here and they need every able fighter at the Tree,” Sam said to his brother with a shrug.

“I can make sure your stay in the city is comfortable and you wouldn't have to worry about a thing. You wouldn’t even have to join the Knights, be hired soldiers.”

“Sorry but I am not risking my brother and friend’s life just because you want it.”

“Dean, all I am asking is for…”

“Plus, we have to stay and protect the town.” Dean interrupted. “Wish we could but it’s a no go.”

“Dean,” pushed Sam.

“I SAID NO AND IT'S A NO!” Dean yelled out, his face was red with anger.

The door burst open to the shop and all four soldiers were standing there with their swords out.

“Everything is fine here, put your swords down! “demanded NoVa.

“Dean, you guys should go.”

Dean turned to see Charlie and Kevin standing in front of the soldiers, weak smiles on their faces.

“We can stay behind and take care of things here. They need the best and you two are the best.”

“We are not separating, remember we promised…” started Dean.

“Yeah but it's been two years and they have barely made a scratch at the Tree. Maybe with the both of you, something can change,” Kevin stated.

Dean looked at his two best friends with concern, wondering why they were so open to this.

“They need the best out there and you two are part of the best,” Charlie whispered, her eyes looking over at Sam with a smile.

“But you guys are the best as…”

“Garth, Charlie and I have made it this far because you both protect us. You have stuck by our side since day one, you and Sam got our little guild to the top before all this. If it wasn’t for both of you, the three of us wouldn’t have made it this far.”

“Kevin…”

“Dean, we have to do the right thing.”

Dean looked over at his brother, trying his best to hold his fear under control.

“You do realize if we go, that means we can die in fighting?”

“I know that Dean, but I would rather risk that with you by my side than alone.”

“Plus,” interjected NoVa. “I will make sure you both aren’t on the front lines. I will make sure you are part of my team.”

“All fighters are required to be on the frontlines,” Dean pushed as he faced NoVa. “You can’t make any promises…”

“As second in command of the Knight of Hadron, I can make any promise I want.”

Everyone went silent and faced NoVa with shock in their eyes.

“Now, will you join me or not?”

Dean looked over at Sam. He could see the determination in his brother’s eyes and knew that if he said no, Sam would walk off with NoVa, leaving him behind to only worry. Dean took in a deep breath and faced NoVa.

“We will go, but with two conditions.”

“Anything,” NoVa responded with a smile.

“First, send some knights to watch over this town. We have taken care of the folks here and they don’t have many fighters to begin with.”

“Deal, and your second request?”

“If anything, and I mean anything happens during a fight, you make sure my brother’s life comes first and he gets out alive.”

NoVa looked between the brothers, noticing the look of shock on Sam’s face.

“Agreed.”

Tags:

@coffee-obsessed-writer

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #SPN #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x ofc x dean winchester #ofc (original female character)#sam x ofc x dean #fantasy #gaming #AugmentedReality #futuristic!au

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natasha-cole · 7 years

Text

Ready Steady Part 27

*Smashes face on keyboard* Here, I wrote another chapter?

Summary: Reader attends her baby shower, still feeling guilty over her previous behavior. She expresses her concerns and fears to Rob, hoping that he can comfort her.

Word Count: 3283

Warnings: mostly fluff and slight angst

Note: For the sake of the remainder of the fic, I’m using some old Louden Swain songs and making them new ones. Also, as you can tell, my reader is a singer/songwriter and a country girl at heart… so for her, instead of trying to write my own lyrics, I’m using songs by Miranda Lambert and claiming them as the reader’s own. Hey, this way, you can listen to the actual songs after you read!

Another Note: I don’t know what I’m doing anymore… this is terrible and I apologize.

Catch up: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26

After having spent the next week recovering from your embarrassment over your false accusations against Rob and Briana, you finally had something to look forward to today. Sure, you had ruined the surprise that they had been working on for a while; but knowing that you were going to get to spend the day with Rob and all of your friends at your baby shower helped to make you feel better.

You watched Rob as he got ready, wondering how he managed to put up with you half the time. You had spent the last week apologizing and feeling terrible about things, and he continued to calmly remind you that none of that mattered anymore. He also felt terrible for sneaking around when he was well aware of your trust issues, and all he could do was remind you that he wasn’t that guy. You knew that, you had always known that. Unfortunately, the way you reacted to things often felt out of your control. You wanted to give him the trust that he deserved, but it was difficult for you to do so.

Although Rob had been disappointed that the surprise had been ruined, he too acted excited for today. You sat on the edge of your bed, having already had quite the workout just trying to get ready for the day; and now you were attempting to put on your shoes. Rob watched you as you struggled, your very large baby bump now making it extremely difficult to accomplish certain tasks.

“Help me?” you whined as you made eye contact with him, his blue eyes watching you from behind the glasses that he chose to wear today. He smiled warmly as he moved towards you, kneeling down to slip your shoes onto your feet. As he stood back up, he leaned in to give you a kiss.

“Are you ready?” He asked as he allowed his lips to linger against yours.

“I am,” you replied, taking a moment to run your hand through his hair. He pulled back, reaching his hand out to you, helping you stand up. You wobbled slightly as you were finally on two feet, Rob holding your arm to steady you.

“You okay?” he questioned, not letting go of you until he was sure you were.

“Yeah, I’m just so huge, I can’t even keep my balance anymore.”

Rob frowned at you, “you’re not huge. You’re beautiful.”

“Aw, thanks,” you giggled, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “you always know how to make me feel better.”

“Let’s get to Briana’s,” he insisted as he began to gather his wallet, keys, and your bag, “I’m sure everyone is probably there by now.”

“It was nice of her to do this at her place.”

“She’s happy to do it. She’s really excited for us.”

“Am I acting surprised, or does everyone know I messed it up?” you asked, scowling at yourself over having ruined the surprise in the first place.

“We just told everyone that we clued you in.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay. Let’s just forget all of that happened. Today is a good day.”

You nodded as he took your hand and led you out of the room toward the front door.

When you arrived at Briana’s, you were fairly surprised at seeing how many people had actually shown up for this. Luckily, her house was big enough to accommodate everyone and you couldn’t help but feel like she went too far out of her way to give you a baby shower. You were also surprised to see that it wasn’t only your girl friends in attendance, but many of the guys were there too.

You and Rob wandered into the room, hand in hand, as you took in the decorations and the number of people there. Gradually, people approached the two of you; offering hugs and congratulations. You were thrilled to see your closest friends; Kim, Ruth, Billy, Mike, Stephen, and Rich who each took the time to invite you in and check to see if you needed anything. It was nice to see many of Robs other friends, most who you had only been around when you attended conventions and who were in attendance with their wives.

When you found Briana as she was playing hostess, you made sure to approach her to thank her for everything. She pulled you into a tight hug before you could speak.

“Y/N, how are you feeling? Do you want something to drink? I’ve got food if you’re hungry.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as she fussed over you, “I’m good for now. I just wanted to thank you for… this… everything. And I’m sorry.”

She put a hand up to quiet you, “no more apologizing,” she insisted, “it’s over, it’s in the past. And you’re welcome. I’m happy to do this for my friends.”

“I’ve never been to a baby shower before,” you stated as your eyes scanned the room filled with people, “I thought they were usually reserved for women.”

“Nah,” she shook her head, “I think it’s nice to get everyone together for things like this.”

“It is nice,” you mused, pleased with the way Briana and Rob had managed to get everyone together here to celebrate.

“Besides, this isn’t going to be a regular baby shower, just a… party for everyone to hang out and congratulate you and Rob… with gifts of course.” She added with a wink.

“Ha, more stuff?” you questioned, “not like Rob hasn’t already gone overboard with baby stuff…”

Briana laughed, “sounds like Rob. Don’t worry, I just told everyone to keep it simple.”

“Good, we don’t have room for much else.”

“You guys are good though, right?” She asked.

“Yeah, we’re really good… despite all of my crazy.”

“You’re not crazy,” she stated simply.

Briana excused herself to attend to some things and you grabbed a bottle of water before making your way back to the living room. Weaving in and out of people, occasionally being stopped to receive hugs and exchange pleasantries, you eventually made it to where you were headed. You mostly just wanted to sit as your feet were already throbbing, but were discouraged when you noticed that the couch was completely taken. You stood uncomfortably, searching the room for Rob who had disappeared.

“Need a seat?” you heard a voice call out. You turned toward the couch to see Matt standing before you could even answer him.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to do that,” you insisted.

“Are you kidding? Here, sit,” he reached for you, grasping your hand as he led you to the now free spot on the couch next to Kim. You gladly sat, relieved to finally be off your feet.

“Thanks Matt.”

Instead of wandering off now that he had given up his seat, Matt sat cross from you on the coffee table.

“So, how are you feeling?” he asked, trying to make small talk, “you’re getting closer, I bet you’re nervous.”

“Well, if I wasn’t scared before, I am now. Thanks for that,” you chuckled. Truth be told, you were extremely nervous. As each week went by and you drew closer to your due date, your anxiety built. The only thing keeping you sane at this point was Rob; even though he seemed to be more anxious than you were at times.

“Jeez Matt,” Kim cut in, turning slightly so that she could join the conversation, “way to make a girl nervous.”

Matt blushed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I really was just wondering how you were feeling.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, “I’m actually pretty good. Mostly just uncomfortable at this point, and yes… pretty nervous.”

“You’ll be fine,” Kim promised, “you and Rob, I think you two were always destined to get through things together.”

“Yeah well, we have been through a lot. It just never seems to end though.”

“You’ll get there,” chimed in Matt, “relationships are a lot of work in general, I honestly don’t know how you two have even lasted this long.”

“Oh, thanks?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. Just, you’ve gone through a lot together. A lot of people would have given up, but not you two.” He smiled warmly at you and you knew that he was right. Not many people would even be willing to work through the ins and outs of a relationship like the one you and Rob had. There were always really wonderful moments, and too often, really bad moments. But somehow, the two of you just made it work.

You smiled at him, honestly surprised by his sentiment. “Well, I think it’s because we really do love each other.”

“Good, I’m happy for both of you. And I know you’ll keep getting through whatever comes your way.”

“We try.”

You looked away from Matt when you noticed Rob had entered the room. His eyes scanned the space until he spotted you, smiling as he headed toward you with two plates of food. He handed you one when he reached you.

“I thought you might be hungry,” he explained.

You thanked him, gladly digging in now that you realized you were starving suddenly. He sat on the arm of the couch, still smiling at you as you ate.

Just then, Briana chose the moment to start in on the gifts that everyone had brought.

“Are you ready for baby presents?” She asked eagerly, a large grin spreading across her face. You were certain she was probably more excited for this part than you were. You looked over to the pile of gifts, now feeling really overwhelmed. You weren’t kidding when you told Briana that Rob had already over done it on baby stuff, the idea of adding more to it had you slightly panicked.

“Sure,” you said softly, setting your plate down hesitantly. Suddenly, all eyes were on you and you felt yourself grow even more uneasy. You had never been to a baby shower before, much less been the guest of honor at one. You weren’t sure what was expected of you or how you should act. Mostly, you wanted to leave right now. The only thing keeping you somewhat calm was Rob, who was now rubbing your back. He leaned in toward you until his face was against yours.

“Are you okay?” he whispered into your ear. He had gotten really good at sensing your uneasiness in any situation and you appreciated that.

“I think so,” you whispered back, “I’m just… not used to this kind of attention.”

“You’ll be fine,” he assured you, not letting his hand break contact with you, “these are our friends, and they’re just happy for us.”

You nodded, letting him know that you understood. You breathed in deeply, trying to shake the nervousness that you now felt over nothing. Still, Rob silently comforted you, knowing that you didn’t handle attention well.

You made your way through the pile of gifts that everyone had brought, growing more relaxed as time passed. Amid the laughter and conversation, you realized that you were no longer uncomfortable being the center of attention, at least not with this group. Most of them had gifted cute baby clothes; many of which referenced Supernatural, and the band had gotten together and had tiny Louden Swain onesies made for the baby. When you had finally finished opening everything, you looked around at everyone; grateful to have them in your life. While Rob had worked hard at obtaining all of the necessary items for a new baby, these people had proved to be sentimental and thoughtful in their gifts.

“Thank you all,” you said as you began to feel yourself tear up, “this has been… so amazing.”

“Yeah guys,” Rob added, “we really appreciate everything.”

“And Briana, thank you for putting this all together and letting us hang out at your house.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she smiled.

“Really, I…” you weren’t sure if it was a good time to get sentimental, but your emotions were already taking over, “I don’t have a family, and I’ve been on my own for a long time… to have all of you be here for us, despite everything that has gone on in our relationship… Rob and I are just, so grateful.”

“Hey, I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again,” Kim spoke up, “you do have a family.”

You smiled again as you looked down at your belly. You still hadn’t learned how to be accepting of this group referring to you as part of their family. Often, you felt like you didn’t deserve it. However, you knew that no matter what, your son would at least be loved by them.

A couple of hours later; after more conversation had been exchanged, guests began to leave, and gifts had been eventually been packed into the car; you thanked Briana again as you and Rob decided to head home. It had been a busy day… an emotional day, and you were feeling exhausted and still slightly overwhelmed.

Rob helped you into the car before taking his place in the driver’s seat.

“That was really nice, Rob,” you ran a hand through his hair, leaning in slightly toward him. He moved in to kiss you and you melted at the feel of his lips on yours.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” he said, “I could tell you were a little anxious at first, but I think you did really well.”

“It’s just still hard for me to have attention like that, but I really do appreciate all that you and Bri did.”

“Anything for my girl.” He gave you another quick kiss before starting the car.

When you finally made it home, you both decided that the gifts could wait for the morning. The baby shower had lasted a long time, and you were both visibly tired as you walked into the house.

“Do you need anything?” Rob asked as he followed you to the bedroom.

“Sleep!” you cried out dramatically. He chuckled as you immediately went right for the dresser, pulling out pajamas and changing quickly.

“Sounds good to me,” Rob agreed.

You were already under the covers, getting comfortable as he got ready for bed.

When he was finally changed, he crawled under the covers next to you and you sat up so that he could rest his arm under your head. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in close to him and you felt all of your anxieties from the day disappear. This was it. This was all you ever needed. Just Rob, holding you and feeling safe in his arms. You sighed as you snuggled in to him as close as you could.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You didn’t look up at him as you asked, you wanted to stay in this safe place right now.

“What’s up?” He replied, now placing soft kisses on your forehead.

“Are you scared at all?”

Now, Rob moved back so that he could look at you and you glanced up to meet his gaze, “scared of what?”

“I don’t know… scared of being a dad I guess,” you didn’t really know how to approach the topic. It had been something that he been on your mind for some time.

“I wouldn’t say I’m scared… nervous, sure. But not scared.” He tilted his head in confusion as he kept eye contact. “Why? Are you scared?”

“Honestly? Yeah, I am.” You felt proud in this moment. This may have been one of the very few times in your relationship where you were immediately honest about anything with Rob. You weren’t sure how he would react to you admitting your fears to him, especially at this point in your pregnancy, but you had finally found that you were comfortable enough with him to express those fears.

“What are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid that I won’t be a good mom,” you whispered. You had spent a lot of time thinking about your own childhood, about your own mother that you didn’t really know. Knowing that you had a bad habit of falling into bad situations and old ways, you often wondered if you could eventually end up like her.

“Why would you think that? You’re going to be an amazing mom.”

“But, what if I’m not. I mean… I don’t even know what it’s like to have a mom, much less be one,” you realized you were grasping onto him now, almost as if you were afraid he was going to leave you as you expressed your concern to him. “What if, me not having my mom around when I was a kid, makes me become a bad one.”

“Honey, are you kidding me? Everything that you’ve ever gone through has not made you a bad person. You’ve been hurt, but you still know how to love. You’ve been alone for so long, but you still let people in. Not having your own mom around isn’t going to make you a bad parent. If anything, I think all of that is going to make you love our son even more.”

“I already do,” you added, “love him, I mean.”

“I know you do. And think of it this way, did you ever stop loving me because of what you had been through with your ex?”

“No…” you trailed off, wondering what he was getting at.

“See? Just because you’ve been through things that are difficult, it doesn’t mean that you are incapable of love. Your mom bailing on you… isn’t going to determine how you will be as a mother.”

You stared at him for a moment, grateful for his words. If anything in the world could calm you or ease you mind, it was him. It was always him. He was right of course, you spent so much time thinking that your past determined the outcome of your future, you failed to realize that you were very wrong. You had always thought you were destined for loneliness, pain, and fear… but here you were; very much in love and very secure, so close to having a real family.

“I promise you, we’re in this together,” he added, “I love you so much and I am not going anywhere, I won’t let you do this alone.”

“Thank you,” you said, leaning in to kiss him. He gladly met you halfway and kissed you hard, perhaps to remind you just how much he loved you. For the first time during your pregnancy, you actually felt comfort now. Maybe it was the fact that you had openly expressed your fears honestly to him, maybe it had been his words… either way, you really felt that you were in a good place with Rob. He was willing to accept your crazy behavior over the misunderstanding from last week, knowing well enough why any of that had happened. He understood you and he understood why you reacted the way that you did to certain things. He was patient with you, something that you hadn’t experienced from anyone in a really long time. You knew from experience how difficult love was; you figured that loving someone who felt as broken as you often did, had to be the hardest thing in the world to do. Yet, here he was, doing just that.

When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against yours as he stared into your eyes, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I love when you do that,” you hummed appreciatively.

“Do what?”

“That… the forehead thing. You always do it when I need it most. It relaxes me.”

“Really?” he smirked, “I hadn’t realized.”

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Some of my tags still aren’t working… ugh.

#ready steady #rob benedict x reader #rob benedict fanfiction

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shielddrake · 7 years

Text

Rebel of Sky City Ch. 9

I’ve had lots of extra time lately, so here’s the next chapter very soon after the last!

Chapter Nine

Jesse woke up to a snout in her face. She grumbled at being roused, causing Reuben to give her elated oinks as he continued to press his nose into her neck. She laughed as he tickled her, waking her up completely. She scratched Reuben behind his ears, his favorite spot, and stretched, kicking her covers off her bed in the process.

“I never should’ve let you start to sleep in my bed.”

Reuben just smiled and oinked, his expression clearly showing that he didn’t believe a word she said.

“Yeah, yeah, you grew out of the basket, just like I said you would,” she groaned. “And I haven’t gotten around to making you a larger bed. That doesn’t mean you have to commandeer mine.”

Reuben snorted and leapt off the bed, allowing Jesse to sit up. She glanced out the window where her hidden ladder to the bottom was located. Jesse moaned again and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

“Reuben, the sun’s barely up. What’d you have to wake me for?”

If pigs could smirk, Reuben was doing so right now.

Shaking her head, Jesse got up and checked her wardrobe, thinking about what to wear that day. It wasn’t going to be a day she could sneak out, so it was probably in her best interest to wear something her mother would approve of. She decided on a long dress with red flower print, something similar to what her mother would wear but with a bit more elaborate style. It was a lovely dress, but it seemed The Founder cared more for Jesse’s appearance than her own.

“Don’t know why Mother bothers,” she muttered, glancing at Reuben. “I never see anyone outside the palace…as far as she knows. I could wear a flour sack and no one would care except her.”

Reuben cocked his head at her and raised an eyebrow. He took one glance at the dress and huffed.

“Yeah, I prefer my overalls too, but Mother insists,” Jesse said as she dressed. “It’s not that bad, right?”

She wasn’t sure if Reuben agreed with her or did the pig version of a shrug. She just sighed and headed for the door.

“Lukas would like it,” she insisted. “…I think.”

Jesse always wore overalls or other very casual clothing when she snuck out of the palace. This was not only for practical reasons (trying to climb down a ladder or across the roof of a building in a dress was not the easiest thing to do after all), but also to decrease the chances she would be recognized by any of the guards roaming around the city. She had been able to keep out of their sight thus far, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

As such, she had never worn anything more formal during her visits to Lukas or the others. Lukas himself would wear very simple clothes, and Milo’s outfit always seemed a little scruffy, so she was pretty sure that fancy clothing was not something either of them cared much about.

It was a good thing too, otherwise Jesse would have worried more about whether or not Lukas liked her appearance as much as he seemed to.

Jesse’s heart started beating faster as she thought of the blond young man. Lukas had taken her little “confession” (from which she had fled from) as a sign that he was allowed to be more affectionate. They had yet to kiss beyond cheeks, but Lukas gladly embraced every hug she gave him (while claiming she was a good hugger) and was more than pleased whenever Jesse would reach out to hold his hand. He took things slow, always letting her take the initiative for anything new. Lukas never pushed her to do anything, and she really appreciated it, considering this was the first time she had any kind of companionship outside of her mother, Reginald, Ivor and Reuben, none of which elicited the emotions she had been feeling lately.

It was just over a month since the two had started dating (and thanks to Petra, Jesse actually understood what that meant), and it seemed like Lukas was constantly on her mind. She couldn’t get his eyes, his smile, or his laugh out of her head. Jesse was reaching a point where she had to watch what she said around the palace to make sure she didn’t slip up and start talking about him…as she just had to Reuben.

She just couldn’t help it! Every time Jesse spotted Lukas practicing a new crafting recipe from across the room, especially when he succeeded and made the item for the first time, her heart would flutter. The way his blue eyes would shine and his long nose would crinkle at the slightest excitement only encouraged her to show him more things to build, and indeed, out of all of Build Club, Jesse had shown Lukas the most. Petra and Milo were close second and third.

And although their “dates” consisted mostly of walking around town, watching the sunset, or hanging out at Build Club, she wouldn’t trade that time with him for anything in the world.

Which was why it was particularly annoying when Jesse knew she was going to be cooped up in the palace for the day. She couldn’t sneak out all the time, although she had been seriously tempted to just snuggle with Lukas by the fireplace in his father’s inn for the evening on more than one occasion.

No, today was a day for her cage, although having Reuben prance next to her as Jesse headed for the living room for breakfast eased her heart a little bit.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Reuben,” she told him as they walked. “You keep me sane in here, you know?”

Reuben smiled, his piggy teeth showing under his snout.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, chiefly because The Founder wasn’t there. This was nothing new. Isa sometimes started early when it came to dealing with her duties as leader. Reginald was still there, watching over her, but other than some small talk he was quiet as usual.

Jesse was just finishing off her beetroot soup when Isa and Ivor entered the room, the former holding a serious expression and the latter with a apologetic one. Jesse blinked at them as they approached.

“Uh-oh. Don’t like the looks of this.” Reuben squeaked in agreement.

“Jesse, may I speak with you, dear?” Isa’s tone was stern but worried. Jesse simply nodded in response, and Isa took a seat next to her. “It has come to my attention that your education is suffering.”

“Huh?”

“Ivor, if you please?”

The alchemist walked over and placed the parchments on the table. Jesse glanced through them and quickly recognized them. They were some of the examinations she had taken in the past months. Based on the various marks, she had not done well.

Crud.

“Jesse, you have always been very bright, but recently your scores have suffered and you have not internalized as much of Ivor’s teachings.” Isa folded her hands on the table and looked at her daughter straight in the eye. “Has something been bothering you? Something I need to know?”

Jesse gulped, keeping her eyes on the papers. “No. I didn’t know I was doing so poorly.”

“And this is even with your study days you’ve been spending in your room.” Isa clicked her tongue. “Perhaps independent studying isn’t working the best strategy?”

“No!” Jesse had to keep herself from jumping out of her chair. “No. There’s nothing wrong with it. I’ll do better on the next one, Mother. I promise.”

If she knew I wasn’t actually studying…and being at Build Club doesn’t count when the tests are about brewing.

Isa stared at her, and Jesse could see Ivor crossing his arms out the corner of her eye. If she hadn’t been doing well in her studies for this long, why hadn’t Ivor mentioned it earlier?

If I don’t have an excuse to not be outside my room, I won’t be able to see Lukas and the others again.

“Mother, really, I’m all right.”

Isa sighed and bowed her head. “Very well. I’m just concerned for you is all.”

“And I appreciate it.” Don’t make me study somewhere public. Don’t make me study somewhere public!

Her prayers must have been answered, as Isa nodded and stood. Ivor seemed to relax as well.

“That is good to hear, Jesse. I know you are a better student than this. But you can talk to me about whatever is bothering you.”

“Of course.” She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

“In any case, we’re inducting a group of new guards today,” Isa said. “It’s time to introduce you to them.”

“New guards?” She blew a raspberry. “Great. More people to treat me like glass.”

“Jesse, you know why the Guard is the way it is,” Reginald reprimanded.

“Yeah, I know.” She shook her head and raised up from her seat. “I still don’t like it.”

Reuben jumped onto her chair and stuck his snout into her bowl, lapping up the remains of her soup before jumping down and returning to Jesse’s side, dripping beetroot all over the floor in the process. Jesse just laughed at his antics.

“Reuben, must you be so messy?” Isa asked, but the growing pig just oinked at her.

Jesse followed her mother and Reginald down the dark halls in the direction of the throne room, passing only a few windows in the process. Ivor stayed in the shadows, but jogged to catch up to Jesse as they walked behind The Founder and the Captain of the Guard.

“I’m sorry, Jesse,” he said. “I couldn’t keep giving your mother excuses for your poor performance. It wasn’t my intention to get you in trouble.”

So I have been doing badly for a while. Jesse looked at him. “Why didn’t you tell Mother earlier?”

“I was hoping it was just a phase,” he answered. “But I couldn’t keep covering for you.”

Covering for me?

Their conversation came to an abrupt end as they arrived in the throne room. Jesse could see that the entire area was closed off, with at least two guards at every entrance and exit. Before the throne was a group of about twenty new guards, which Jesse only knew by the wide-eyed expressions on most of them.

They stood in two rows of ten. Many of these faces blended together. After seeing so many guards, it was quite a task for Jesse to keep them all straight, something she frequently felt bad about. There was one male guard near the end of the back row who was larger than many of the other guards, and Jesse immediately decided that she didn’t want to get on his bad side.

He’ll be easy to remember at least.

Glancing at the guard standing in front of the larger man, Jesse barely kept herself from stumbling. Although she was saluting and wearing the standard uniform of the Guard, Jesse had become familiar enough with the red hair and deep brown eyes that she felt she would recognize them anywhere.

Standing as part of the Guard of Sky City was the last place Jesse ever expected to see Petra.

Isa sat delicately on her throne, looking over the new recruits with a hopeful spark in her eye. Reginald stood to her right, saluting to The Founder before returning to attention. Jesse’s spot was to Isa’s left, and it was just her luck that this put her right in front of Petra.

Jesse bit her lip. Stay calm. Don’t stare. Don’t stare. Don’t stare…

She was staring, and Petra’s eyes narrowed just a little bit. Jesse immediately looked away, taking in the other guards in an attempt to look anywhere but at her friend.

“Good morning to you all.” Isa remained in her seat as she began her customary speech to the new recruits. “I am pleased to see so many people interested in the safety of our fair city.”

The recruits remained saluting, with a couple glancing briefly at Reginald for any instructions. Isa smiled.

“At ease.” And they were. Some even let out sighs of relief. “Now, as your Founder, I’m sure you know that I am ultimately in charge of everything that goes on in Sky City. Anything involving building or crafting has to come through me…”

Petra’s not saying anything, Jesse thought as she wrung her hands. Maybe that means she’s going to keep quiet?

“…and it is your duty to ensure the safety of our people,” Isa continued. Jesse missed much of what she had said. “For guard duty, you will report to Reginald. I’m certain you have already become accustomed to that…”

Why would Petra join the Guard? She’s in Build Club! She complains about Mother’s laws all the time! Why would she put herself in a position where she’d have to enforce them?

“…and anyone who violates our laws are to be brought to me immediately for questioning.” Her mother’s tone had become more serious now, but Jesse was just barely paying attention. “Even if they proclaim their innocence, in the end it is my word that determines their guilt. No one else.”

No way she doesn’t recognize me. Jesse snuck a glance at the ginger, who simply raised an eyebrow at her. Oh man, I’m so—

“On a final note,” Isa said, and Jesse jumped just a little. Was she at the end of her speech already? “I would like to introduce to you my daughter, Jesse.”

Jesse bit her lip again and looked anywhere but at Petra. “Hello.”

The new guards all appeared surprised, but most of them kept their composure, including Petra.

“I know it is a surprise to you, but I have kept Jesse’s existence a secret from the citizenry of Sky City for her own protection,” Isa explained. Her eyes narrowed and gave each individual recruit a firm look. “It is your upmost priority to keep her safe while you are stationed in the palace. In addition, you are to never reveal her identity or presence to anyone outside the Guard. If you fail to do so, you will know no greater wrath than mine. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am!” The recruits all shouted instantly, and Isa nodded solemnly.

“Very good. Welcome to the Guard.”

Jesse didn’t pay attention as Reginald started listing off duties for the newcomers, and didn’t move from her spot until the group began to disperse. She looked up one last time at Petra, but the redhead had already turned and left the throne room, presumably to take up a post somewhere. Jesse sighed as Reuben began nuzzling her legs, trying to comfort her. She bent down to scratch his ears, trying to ignore the ball of iron forming in her stomach.

Following all that, most of Jesse’s time was taken up by tutoring from Ivor. She did her best to catch up with what she was falling behind in, and thankfully Ivor’s teaching methods always worked well for her. This was probably why Isa allowed the potioneer to stick around as Jesse’s teacher as long as he had. Ivor’s sarcastic wit seemed to pierce her brain better than any normal teacher, including her own mother. To this day, Jesse wasn’t sure what that said about her.

Tutoring was a nice distraction, but the moment it was over for the day Jesse’s anxiety returned. There were so many unanswered questions going through her mind. Why did Petra join the Guard? What was she hoping to gain from it? Didn’t this contradict her beliefs about Build Club? Why hadn’t she just exposed Jesse in front of The Founder about her sneaking out of the palace?

Most importantly: Was Petra going to tell Lukas?

Determined to get the answers to these questions, Jesse searched the palace high and low for Petra. With Reuben by her side, she eventually found the taller woman standing guard in one of the hallways leading to the kitchen. Reuben ran ahead and grinned at Petra, who kneeled down to give him a pat on his head.

Reuben’s always been a good judge of character. Jesse paused and took a deep breath. Okay, Jesse. Relax. You can do this.

Facing her new friend with her old identity was not an ideal circumstance in her opinion. Nonetheless, she knew it was too late to keep it secret anymore.

“Hello, Private,” she greeted, not sure how to address Petra at the moment. She wasn’t sure if anyone else was going to listen in. No one else was around, but Jesse didn’t want to take any chance. “May I speak with you alone?”

“Yes, Young Miss.”

Jesse felt bile raising into her throat. Oh great. Now Petra of all people is going to call me that.

Reuben led the two of them to a simple conference room with only a single long table and a couple of chairs inside. There wasn’t even a single window, giving them the privacy Jesse desired. Reuben jumped on one of the chairs and curled up, looking back and forth between the two women in anticipation. Jesse waited for Petra to be completely inside before closing the door and locking it.

As Jesse turned around, she noticed that Petra had broken her stiff guard posture and returned to what Jesse knew to be her normal self…at least, her normal self that was incredibly cross. Petra had her arms crossed and her face lowered so she was looking at Jesse from just beneath her upper eyelids. Her brow was furrowed together and her foot tapped very lightly, being the only sound in the room.

Oh boy. Here we go.

“So, either you have a long-lost twin that was separated from you from birth, or The Founder’s daughter has been running around Sky City without telling anyone who she really is.” Petra’s tone clearly showed just how displeased she was. “Should I guess which one is true, Young Miss?”

Jesse hid her eyes behind her hand. “For all that is holy, don’t call me that. Please, Petra.”

The taller one relaxed her arms and instead put her hands on her hips. “Sorry, but it’s just a little more than annoying to have made such a good friend only to learn that everything about her is a total lie.”

“I wasn’t lying! I was just, uh, not telling you the whole story,” Jesse insisted. Petra’s blank face did not comfort her. “Fine, I was lying. Listen, I’m really, really sorry. I never meant for it to get this far.”

“You mean you never meant for anyone to find out,” Petra corrected her.

The dark-haired woman lowered her gaze. “Yeah.”

Petra’s expression softened as she saw Jesse’s hurt face and she sighed. “How about you tell me everything from the top?”

Reuben took a small nap as Jesse recited everything that had happened from her point of view, from before the Spring Festival to the celebration itself to the current day. Petra was silent, not giving one bit of commentary as she listened to the tale. She leaned back against the wall while Jesse sat in a chair, and the latter kept her gaze away from her friend. Once she was finished, Jesse finally glanced up at her again.

“So your mom doesn’t know about any of this?” she asked.

“Are you kidding?” Jesse’s eyebrows disappeared into her hair. “If Mother found out about this, she would…Well, I don’t know what she would do. Honestly, I don’t want to think about it.”

“So bad you don’t know what it is?” Petra teased with a smirk.

“Pretty much.” Jesse shrugged every so slightly. “Probably along the same lines if Mother learns you’re a member of the you-know-what.”

“Our secret club.” Petra cringed a little. “Yeah, let’s not think about that.”

Jesse rubbed the back of her head. “You won’t tell anyone what I’ve been doing, right? Please?”

“Oh, you asking me now?”

“I’ll beg you if I have to.” Petra, please…

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” Petra rolled her eyes. “Of course I won’t tell, dummy.”

Jesse let out a long breath. “I guess you can’t really tell in case I tell Mother about Build Club.”

“So…” Petra dragged out the word in faux thought. “I guess we’re blackmailing each other, huh?”

“Looks like it.” Jesse finally gave a true smile for the first time that day. “Thanks, Petra.”

“Don’t thank me yet. This is a big deal,” she said. “I won’t tell if you don’t want me to, but you should at least tell Lukas the truth.”

Jesse felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head. “No!”

“But you should.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Petra, think about who I am and who Lukas is,” Jesse described, throwing up her hands. “My mother is the person who locked up his father for most of his childhood! It’s her laws that keep them from having something as simple as a book! She’s the one who keeps rejecting Milo’s petitions!”

“Your point?”

Jesse’s mouth dropped open at the question. “How do you think Lukas would react if he found out he was dating the daughter of the person who essentially makes his life miserable?”

“It’s not making his life miserable,” Petra asserted. “More difficult maybe, but not miserable.”

There was a thunk as Jesse dropped her head against the table. “You’re missing the point.”

“The point is that Lukas knows not to judge someone by who their mother or father is.” Petra tapped her foot on the iron floor. “Lukas knows and loves you. He’s not going to care about any of that.”

Loves? Jesse’s face flushed bright red, reaching her ears as she ran her hand through her hair. “He loves me?”

“Why do I bother with you people?” Petra closed her eyes and shook her head. “I can break the news to him, if that would be easier for you?”

“No. No, you’re right. I should be the one to tell him.” Jesse took a breath and slowly released it. “How am I supposed to tell him exactly?”

“I’d figure just being honest would do it.”

“You’re no help at all.” Jesse rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

“I’ll tell him, all right? But I want to do it at the right time, okay?”

“Fair enough, but I wouldn’t wait too long.” Petra gave her friend an adamant look. “Lukas is going to find out eventually, and the more you postpone it, the worse it’s going to be.”

Jesse’s shoulders slumped and she covered her face with her hands. “I know, I know. Just…let me have this for now, okay?”

Concerned about the level of distress in his friend’s voice, Reuben leapt down from his chair and nestled into Jesse’s lap. Petra’s face softened further, and she walked over to put a hand on her companion’s shoulder. Jesse looked up at her, her eyes shining bright.

“I’m not trying to be a jerk, but Lukas is my best friend,” she said. “And he’s not going to think badly of you. I promise.”

Jesse sighed again. “I guess we’ll find out eventually, won’t we?”

Petra straightened up and looked at the door. “I better get back to my post. I don’t want to get in trouble on my first day of guard duty.”

“If you do, I’ll just tell Reginald you were with me,” Jesse offered. “You won’t get in trouble for that.”

“Good to know. I can use you as my excuse for whenever I do something wrong.”

Jesse gave her a gentle punch in the shoulder, and the two girls laughed while Reuben oinked in agreement. The little pig bared his teeth. He always preferred it when Jesse was happy.

The three left the conference room and returned to Petra’s spot only to be faced with the large man Jesse had seen earlier. He was looking around with a worried twinkle in his dark eyes. His concern visibly deflated once he caught sight of them.

“Petra, there you are!” he hollered, his voice booming through the halls, causing Jesse to shake a little. “I was supposed to trade your post, but you weren’t here. Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah. Everything’s fine. Sorry to make you worry.” Petra waved her hand between the man and Jesse. “Jesse, this is Axel. He was my partner during training. Axel, I’m sure you know Jesse.”

“Hello, Young Miss,” Axel said with a salute, and Jesse bit her tongue to keep herself from releasing another groan. “Petra, you call her by her name?”

“She said I could. She actually doesn’t like being called Young Miss.” Petra chuckled a bit at this, and Jesse just glared at her.

“It’s not funny, Petra,” she said.

“Sorry, not sorry.”

“You can call me Jesse too,” she said to the man. “Axel, was it?”

“Yes, Young Mi—er, Jesse,” he answered with a crocked grin. “We probably can’t call you that in front of the Captain or The Founder, but I guess that would be okay when we’re alone?”

“I’d like that,” Jesse concurred with a smile. “I’m kind of short on friends around here. You two want to hang out?”

“Um, Captain Reginald wants me to take this shift in this hall,” Axel replied.

“I insist. Private, you will accompany me to the kitchens for a snack,” Jesse put her hands on her hips. “That’s an order.”

Axel let out a guffaw. “Well, you know I can’t disobey an order, especially if it means I get some food.”

“You’re such a lazy bum, Axel,” Petra mocked, poking him in the stomach with an elbow.

“I’m just big boned,” he objected. “That’s what you told me during training anyway.”

At this point, Reuben made himself known by jumping into the middle of the triangle the three humans had formed and flopping onto his back, his demand to have his belly rubbed clear for all to see. The group laughed and Axel bent down to do exactly that.

“You’ve got a pet pig!” he declared. “Awesome!”

“People always love a pig,” Jesse said with a bright smile.

The four headed for the kitchens, Jesse’s heart still heavy from the idea of having to tell Lukas her secret, but her shoulders less tense from having to hold up the secret in front of Petra.

If only I could tell Lukas who I am and have him understand.

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm jesse #mcsm lukas #fanfiction #Sky City!AU #Sky City!Jesse

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gigiree · 7 years

Text

Unlucky Circumstance

It’s certainly a case of Murphy’s Law. It’s certainly and expectedly his bad luck that had caused this.

Or rather he’d blame this entirely on that if Ladybug was anywhere in sight. Beyond all the chaos of screaming teenagers and a city reduced to canoodling, love struck citizens, there’s no sight of red and black.

There’d hardly been enough time to transform before the akuma, aptly named Lovestruck, had broken through the school’s decidedly poor security system. Chat Noir was left with little recourse but to fend him off and corral as many of his unaffected classmates as he could into a safe space.

He leaves Kim behind. It’s too late for the boy. He’s already sobbing into his hands and crying about his one sided love for Alix.

(She’s torn between amusement and something bordering on embarrassment as she runs out the door.)

“Hey, Lovestruck! Your type of love isn’t real! We don’t want it!” Someone shouts behind the screaming/swooning mass of students.

And then he sees her. Awkward, cute, stupidly brave Marinette trying to distract Lovestruck who flies above them on his gilded cloud.

He’s already lobbed a handful of that almost pretty rose gold dust. She tries to dodge, but the dust is everywhere and falls over her in a glittering shower of horror, and Chat is too late.

A resounding NOOOO echoes across the courtyard. Faster than he can move, Alya Cesaire is already in front of Marinette. Her trembling hands are covering Marinette’s eyes.

Alya gives Chat Noir a pleading look, and he jumps into action. He is surprised at how much bitterness and fear has latched onto his chest when the thought of poor, sweet Marinette falling for a random stranger crosses his mind.

It drives him faster. Drives him harder. Makes his baton spin until it seems like a solid flat circle heading towards Lovestruck. It’s fast enough to dissipate any dust thrown his way.

The akuma seems to know that this opponent is too fierce, and while Hawkmoth’s commands echo strongly in his hazy thoughts, the call of love tugs at him. Tells him that Paris is a city of love and lights and that there’s plenty more to spread.

He and his cloud disappear into the blue sky with a whirl of glitter.

Chat Noir grits his teeth and bites back a scream of frustration, his fingers shaking with repressed anger as dials Ladybug again.

There’s no answer, and before the terror can freeze him into stone, he decides to help everyone else.

The police that surround the area have luckily been kept sane and loveless inside their cruisers. They help him round up the lovestruck students and send home the ones not affected. (a huge part of which were students that were in relationships).

And there’s only one question left. Where is Ladybug? —

Marinette, who seems to be the closest civilian friend Ladybug has, looks understandably frustrated. Alya has deftly tied a thin scarf around her friend’s head so that she can’t see and fall in love with someone.

Chat is exhausted and between the inquiries as to where so and so was and whether Adrien was safe or not, he feels stretched thin.

Not to mention, Lovestruck would return for his Miraculous.

And so he asks Marinette for help in finding Ladybug. His worry that she might be among those affected eats away at him…and to give himself credit…it’s mostly the worry that brings the bile to his throat, not jealousy.

“I’m sure…I’m so sorry, I’m sure she’d be here if she could. Something probably happened. I’m going to try and get home to contact her.” Marinette says, her voice cracking and a few tears of frustration dampening the red silk wrapped over her eyes.

Alya miserably pats her back, her glasses tucked into her shirt pocket so that she’s squinting at nothing in particular.

Chat Noir’s scowl softens, and he feels some of the tension leach away to be replaced with exhaustion.

He rubs his forehead in frustration, before answering.

“Hey… you don’t have to be sorry. It’s not your fault and I’m sure she has a good excuse…she’s never let m-…let us down before. We’ll just to have wait for her in a safe place.”

Alya perks up at that, her mouth twisting in a frown of discontent as she contemplates a course of action. Her arms are still wound protectively around Marinette as they sit on a bench in the empty courtyard.

“Can you please take Marinette home? I would if I could, but right now, I can’t see anything without my glasses and I’d rather keep it that way until the akuma is gone. I can’t protect her like this.” She says with a look of equal desperation, her frustration synergizing with Marinette’s as they both slump against each other in defeat.

(I can’t protect you like this either, Marinette thinks in response.)

“You can…you can hide in my room until Ladybug shows up.” Marinette offers him, her mind rapidly concocting a reasonable excuse for tonight when she would have to disappear for a few minutes and reappear as a blindfolded Ladybug.

Chat hesitates at first, looking at the tops of the buildings wistfully…as if any second Ladybug would appear to get them all out of this mess. But it’s wishful thinking, and for once he’s not leaping before thinking.

“Okay, Princess. I’ll take you home and we’ll make a game plan from there.”

And part of his tension is relieved when he sees Nino, without glasses, carefully feeling his way into the courtyard, eyes squinting so hard, they almost look completely shut.

“I’ll be fine then! It’ll be the blind leading the blind, but Nino and I can help each other get home.” Alya says decidedly, already dusting off her pants and standing up.

She gives Marinette a farewell hug, pats Chat Noir on the shoulder…or rather she means to, but she just ends up awkwardly slapping the side of his head and then she’s making her way towards a stumbling Nino.

Marinette looks a bit panic stricken, with her brows furrowed and her mouth working to say something.

Chat Noir patiently waits for her to speak as he hoists her up and drapes her arm over his shoulder, so that he can guide her over the overturned waste baskets and emptied backpacks.

“Is…where is Adrien? Is he okay?” she blurts out, her mouth set into a grimace.

It’s the sixth time he’s heard the question today. But for some reason, it doesn’t give him that same prickle of annoyance. Not that her inquiry had been any different than the others, but there’s something about it coupled with her vulnerability right now.

She’s asking about him even as she’s struggling to walk, even as she’s blinded for the moment.

And once again, there’s that soft inkling of comfort that sets his heart fluttering when he contemplates their burgeoning friendship.

“He’s fine. I saw him get away into his chauffeur’s car during the evacuation.” He lies a little guiltily, as he leads her through a main street.

It’s uncharacteristically empty, most of the citizens already safely ensconced into their homes or offices.

He’s careful, constantly looking over their heads and tucking her into corners so that they’re not easily spotted in the dimming daylight.

There’s one breathless moment. One stupidly wasteful moment where a trashcan had clattered and he’d panicked.He’d whirled her into the alcove of an older building, a little archway decorated with a giant planter.

Hardly any space for the two of them, hardly enough space between the two of them. His chest pressed against hers, his arms vice like and strained around her taut shoulders.

She smells of peonies, some of her hair drifts up to tickle his nose. But he can’t be distracted.

There’s a strength to her that any other day would have made him grin in appreciation. She accepts his help with a graciousness that’s laced with indignation.

But right now, their nerves are strung too high. There’s a dependency she’s not used to. And here he is, earnestly trying to get her home.

There’s many things she loves about her cat, and while they’re not enough to make her fall in love, they’re enough to make her love him.

She looks up at him, first in anxiousness and then, her expression softens into a tender smile.

When he finally relaxes and realizes the noise had come from a pouncing alley cat, she thanks him.

“It’s uh…it’s my duty as a hero…but also, I really like saving pretty princesses. It’s like in the old fairytales my mom used to…” He trails off, and although she can’t see anything beyond the sliver of light at the edge of the scarf, she senses the strain in his form, the hurt that seems to pervade him.

“Umm…never mind. I’m saying stupid things again.” He finally says, and she looks like she wants to say more, but he’s relieved when she doesn’t.

They finally make it to the bakery. The delicate glass doors are nearly shattered with the force of the Dupain-Cheng’s worry as they burst out to pull both Marinette and him inside the safety of their home.

Mdme Dupain-Cheng is smoothing down her daughter’s hair, nearly tearful as she traces the folds of the silk scarf still wound around Marinette’s head.

He feels a little awkward. A lot out of place.

But then he’s whirled into a brief dance of embraces and grateful thank you’s. He’s plied with food and baked goods, and he’s reminded sharply that he had forgotten to eat breakfast and now it was almost 6 pm.

The akuma is still at large. Ladybug is still missing. The chaos of the outside world blares from the television and while guilt eats away at him as fast as he eats away at the grilled beef, practicality wins out as Marinette echoes his reasoning.

They sit now in her bedroom, a pile of cookies and cafe au lait set on a tray on her worktable.

She’s nervously nibbling at the edges of a cookie. He’s already on his third.

He thanks the skies that she can’t see the mess he is right now. Hair messy and eyes wide and scared. Crumbs trailing down his pretty suit as they contemplate what to do next.

“I just…this is terrible…but you can’t fix them by yourself. It’s too much. I’m so sorry. I promise we’ll find her soon.” Marinette tells him with a mystifying certainty.

He can’t see her eyes beyond the red silk, but he’s sure their burning with that familiar quiet strength of hers.

He wants to ask her how she knows for sure, but she’s already rambling off into a tangent about how the akuma’s powers work. Her worry making her tongue loose in a way that’s so typically her, it makes his anxiety well up into a nervous chuckle.

She breaks off, listing her head in his direction, trying to get a better grasp of the noise he’s making.

“Are you…are you seriously laughing right now? This is a serious situation.” She chides.

“It is…it’s just…god, I’m so worried about her and I’m stuck in here and you’re blind for now and Alya and Nino had to take off their glasses to protect themselves and this situation is entirely ridiculous.” He threads his hands worried through his hair, and she can hear her divan creak as he tries to stretch out his agitation.

She snorts, a little self deprecatingly as she fiddles with the edge of her pink shirt.

“You’re not…wrong. I’m sorry I’m such a burden…you should’ve just…I mean you could have just tried to find her without me dragging you here.” She says quietly, and he worries that he’s hurt her.

She seems to make herself so much smaller next to him, drawing her knees up to her chest as she leans her head back against the wall. Her hair color shifts in the light, and it looks almost blue in the soft lighting of her room.

His words almost catch in his throat at the familiarity she prompts from him. But he hates seeing her defeated like this.

“You’re not a burden. You’re just a person who got caught up in the trouble and you happen to be the one that Ladybug trusts the most.” He ventures and he flinches when it’s her turn to laugh.

“You’ve got it all wrong. She doesn’t trust me at all. She relies on you entirely, you know that? She really…she really does care about you.”

He’s entirely surprised by the admission. He takes her bitterness for jealousy that he’s closer to Ladybug than she is.

(But that’s not it at all…she simply trusts him so much more than she trusts herself sometimes.)

The silence almost stretches to discomfort, and he tries to fall back on humor to break the tension.

“I’m guessing you’re not at all tempted to take off that scarf and fall for me?” He jokes. The lifting syllable at the end of his question tells her it’s a joke.

“You’re not the person I want to fall for.” Her mouth twists into a puckered expression of distaste, something torn between a smile and a feigned grimace. It’s just a joke.

“Awww, you’re blushing! Maybe I do have a chance!” He crows.

Its just a joke. And somehow it still manages to cause her heart to batter against her throat, and she hides it behind a quick jab at his shoulder.

But unfortunately, Murphy’s Law is still in effect.

See there was a time where Marinette had posters of Adrien tacked all over her wall…and one of those nails was still left behind during her attempt to remove all evidence of her minor crush.

The nail that caught onto the back of scarf. The nail that pulled it away from her eyes as she surged forward to playfully punch Chat Noir.

And for some terrifying, heart racing reason, she can’t close her eyes.

She can’t because he’s simply too beautiful, his wide, unnatural green eyes shimmering underneath the light. Surprise coloring them the same green as sour grapes and leaves in spring.

Then it strikes her…and it strikes him what’s just happened.

She screams and he caterwauls. She’s already put her face in her hands by the time he’s shouted for her to look away.

In his haste, he’s fallen off the divan and is sprawled painfully on the floor.

There’s quiet. A sudden expectation and almost melancholy (but maybe just the tiniest bit glad) acceptance that the person she’s fallen for is Chat Noir.

Yet, there’s no heart racing. No love declarations or sudden outbursts of singing.

She’s still Marinette…embarrassed and scared and hiding.

Confusion…and then silence.

Chat Noir remembers then. Ivan and Mylene, already dusted and clinging onto each other…but they’d looked terrified, not lovey dovey. Ivan had been comforting her.

And more students escaping, a few couples seeming just fine.

It dawns on him that Lovestruck couldn’t make you fall in love with someone you already were in love with.

It makes no sense at all…no sense unless Marinette was hiding feelings for him…him as Chat Noir.

The question is out before he even has time to bite his tongue. He looks at her, practically defeated and curling up against the wall as she hides her face.

“Marinette…do you…do you have feelings for me?”

She snaps up at that, cheeks burning and her beautiful eyes…like bluebells…aflame with indignation.

“NO! I….I love Adrien!”

Again, the words are out before she even has a chance to think. She claps her hands over her mouth, eyes so wide, they swallow the rest of her face up in terror.

Her plan unravels, and beyond the immediacy of her confession, there’s a feeling of relief that accompanies the mortification.

She’s free for now, in spite of all her questions…in spite of the fact that she might be in love with Chat Noir…

But she’ll have to set that aside until the akuma is dealt with.

“I need some…I need some air. Alone.” She says.

Before he has a chance to process her words, before he’s even had a chance to say anything, she’s bolted.

Up the stairs to the roof of her home, and he can’t move…there’s something like ice crawling up his legs…burning and welcome all at the same time because her words keep resounding.

And when he finally has a chance to move, to say something, he’s following her as fast as he can…but he only manages to catch the red flare of magic. The sweet smell of peonies and luck as Ladybug leaps out into the scintillating city with blazing determination.

#ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #love spell scenario

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