#so i felt guilty and everyone else reprimanded me to stop fighting her to 'keep the peace.' fuck the peace.

[waitfuckitsnotjustptsd]

been coming to some realizations about the ol' teenage years and the effects of social isolation, csa, emotional and physical abuse, and religious brainwashing all whipped up into a nauseating salad while you're going through puberty for the first time

that's where a lot of my relationship and sexual dysfunction come from. being forced to confess every single fucking thing to a parental figure who then threatened to go tell the creepy old bishop about "your little problem." as if me touching my own body was some kind of horrible addiction. she made me dissociate completely from my whole body and suppress every natural urge i had. she told me god would only forgive me a few times and then he'd stop after that because clearly i wasn't really sorry enough for enjoying my body at all

and then she just engaged the rest of the fucking family to make sure i never had any time alone, which was the most horrible overstimulating shit ever for my autistic ass. i wasn't allowed any alone time for any reason. shower? she'd always find a time to sneak up and knock on the door really hard just to make me jump and keep me on edge. actually she did that for fun all the damn time, just like she pulled the hair at the nape of my neck to see me tear up because she found it hilarious. she screamed at me when i finally did it back to her though.

never had a problem holding me down to stick needles in my face, feeling me up under my shirt, touching me everywhere no matter how much i hated it and made that clear, pulling up my shirt and bra in front of the rest of the family. people make fun of the weird kids who bark and growl, but it was the only thing that made her back off.

and there was nobody i could talk to, because "family things stay in the family." i wasn't allowed to go to public school or leave the house at all without a parent until i was 17 just so she could control my entire world. i had exactly one crush for about a week until she found out and started tearing me down for it. i couldn't have any friends she didn't personally approve, and she also had to personally approve their parents. i wasn't allowed sleepovers. one time i came back from a church activity wearing blue eyeshadow one of the youth group leaders had put on me because i liked it, and she told me i looked "like a prostitute" and freaked the fuck out. the Sunday after that, she copied her own makeup onto me to show me off as essentially a tiny version of her to all the adults at church.

she was honestly just a possessive jealous creepy gross incestuous pedophile, and i wanted to die. the only way for me to escape was burying myself in a book and getting my consciousness outside of myself completely. even that wasn't enough after a while.

she realized one day that i was getting bigger than her, and she decided to start having weird wrestling matches with me on the living room floor. i'd been carefully supervised through tae kwon do classes but i was too scared to hit her. she always ended up tickling me and sitting on me in ways that weren't right for anyone to do to a kid to win. i just wanted to let loose, crack her jaw, throw her out the window, but i knew if i did that the consequences would be severe.

if i ever see her again i'm showing her what a left hook feels like. she loved to complain about how i was born evil and just the most badly-behaved kid of all time, but sometimes i wish i'd really unleashed everything and shown her what an unholy terror really is.

nowadays touch is still a minefield for me, even just a tap on the shoulder can send me into furious shaking. i don't know how to have sex without ignoring what i feel and just trying to make someone else feel good. i can't cuddle anyone but my girlfriend, and even that kinda freaks me out sometimes.

the moral of the story is, don't fucking have kids if you're going to abuse them. don't even get a pet. collect rocks or something, find a hobby, tie a boulder around your neck and chuck it off a cliff into the ocean like that jesus guy said, but don't have kids if you're going to abuse them. oh and burn your bible/book of mormon/christian scriptures of choice, that's not a childrearing manual.

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

The Helping Hand

Summary: Y/N Krast Illegitimate Daughter of Tony Stark. Product of an unwanted teen pregnancy. What would Howard Stark be capable of doing to assure his sons future? What will happen when Tony meets our Beautiful, young, genius, rich philanthropist.

Word Count: 2000 approx

A/n: I will try to finish part 2 during the week maybe Wednesday or Thursday. I did change what happens in the movie but it will call make sense I promise. See you soon!

Tw: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug use, Drug addiction, Teen Pregnancy. (If there are any I missed please tell me.)

Ch.8

Chapter 9: Civil War Pt.1

Ch.10

Secretary Ross what a bitch. I mean you save the world you'd expect a thanks maybe a parade or something, but no. Instead they ask you to legally give up your rights, your anonymity basically all you value. "We can't seriously consider signing this." Steve spat out. "You're being Hyper nonverbal." Nat points tony out. "That's because he's already decided." Steve points out calmly. "I can't sign… I won't sign the accords." You mutter out quietly. "I'm not even an official part of the 'team'. I don't even have a hero name." Pietro chuckles giving you an approving nod. 

Nat brings you and Pietro back to reality. "You were still there." She points out matter of factly. "Either way that does not change that we have made some very public mistakes." She continues. "We need to be put in check." Tony states. "If we don't do it now they will do it to us later and they won't be asking nicely." He says. "I agree it's better to keep one hand on the wheel, than letting go completely." You're honestly not listening at this point anymore. You jump back in after Visions statistics. "My friends are dead because of you." You point out. 

"You blame Wanda for an accident. When I saw your effect on Sokovia way before you blew it up." You mention spitefully. "If you want to sign because you feel guilty go ahead. I'm not being forced into this..." Tony sighs hurt by your comments' brutal honesty. "I'm just trying to protect Wanda." He says looking at you. "Too little too late… where were you when she was in Lagos." This is when Wanda steps in. "Just calm down okay… Just- lets just hear him out." She says looking at you. "Either we have her here with her brother or they become government property." He continues. "You can't just not sign… think about everything you'll lose." Steve jumps in again. "If we sign, we lose our chance to choose. We work under our own authority now, but people have agendas and you know that better than anyone." Steve points out.

Tony and Steve go at it for a minute when he abruptly leaves. Soon you find out why… Peggy passed. You and Nat flew out to be with him for a moment. After which he told you he was not signing the accords. "Wish you the best Captain Rogers." Is what you said. You hesitated but pulled him into a hug. "If you ever need anything talk to me… I'll do my best to help you out." You tell him and he hugs you back. Nat convinced you to fly to Vienna with her and sign the accords there. So you did and regretted it not long after you arrived. It was a complete bore fest. You let Nat do her own thing and you just walked around like a lost puppy until something called your attention. You rush back to her immediately. "Nat, something's wrong, something is very wrong." You repeat then you look out the window confirming your theory. "EVERYBODY GET DOWN" you yell as you leap on Natasha. She's about to reprimand you for causing a scene when the whole building shakes.

It was a blur and everything hurts. You stand up and all you can hear is ringing and a faint voice. As you stand you hear your name faintly Natasha is calling you but there's something else. Your head begins to throb. The voice it's clear now. It's repeating words. "Zhelanie, rzhavyy, Semndtsat', Rassvet, Pech', Devgat', Dobroserdechnyy, Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu, Odin', Gruzovoy Vagon." You grab your head to try and steady yourself. But the voice gets louder and then you recognize it. "Don't believe what you see… dig deeper Y/n. It wasn't him." Then you're pulled out of your daze by Nat standing before you. "Y/n are you okay?" She asks worried. You only nod turning your head and noticing that somehow you made your way outside. "I umm- I need you to call tony and tell him it happened again." You say calmly she nods and takes off to make the call. As she did that you called Steve. "Yes, Steve I'm fine we're fine… but you need to listen to me."

He was scared and the news spread like wildfire. "It wasn't him… Steve it wasn't him." He's quiet. "How do you know?" You sigh. "I just do Steve okay. I believe in you alright. But you can't look for him. If you find him the rest will find him. Keep your distance a week two tops just listen to me please." You plead with him he eventually sighs. "I'm trusting you Y/n" you sigh in relief. You hang up when Nat begins to walk back to you. "Tony is sending a Plane." She mentions looking around them fixing her sight on you. "How did you know something was going to happen?" Her voice nearly a whisper. You shake your head. "Y/n you told me something was wrong very wrong at least 30 seconds before the bombs went off."

"I-i don't know Nat something felt wrong… off then I looked out the window." You say trying to piece together your thoughts. "Lets go… let me drop you off at the airport." She says helping you up. The drive was quiet and uncomfortable. She wasn't sure she believed you, she saw that you called someone. Her walls were up and your answers were not helping that. She helped you board the plane and said her goodbyes and walked out. The ride was quiet what you wanted. But those words kept circling your mind. You couldn't have heard them more than three times but they were burnt into your mind. Vision and then twins were waiting for you when you landed. "Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner will not get here in a couple of days." You nod taking your time getting off.

"Are you okay?" Pietro asks when you trip down the last step. You shake your head. "I'm just tired, plus it's not everyday that you live through an explosion." You chuckle. "I just need some rest." You finish. Your sleep was not as peaceful as you'd like. Your head kept going back to that state of limbo the same words repeating over and over again. In the morning you're feeling well enough and make your way down to the kitchen. You weren't surprised when you found the Maximoff twins already up and going. "Good morning" you say as you walk up to them noticing Vision floating in a corner. "Good morning do you feel better?" Wanda asks as she flips a pancake. You nod watching Pietro chop vegetables extremely fast. Wanda clears her throat catching your attention. "Your thoughts were very loud last night…" 

"Oh my Wanda I am so sorry if I kept you up." You begin apologizing but she cuts you short. "It's fine I only brought it up because I can hear them… they are there, but I can read them?" She says questioning whether or not you understood. You nod. "Did it happen again?" She asks, worry filling her eyes. "I-i don't know how to explain it. Yesterday I felt something was off. I heard a voice after the explosion." You mention trying to wrap your head around the situation. "It was repeating these words. I can't stop thinking about them." You finish off. She gives you a confused look. "Bruce said it's kinda like the green guy… It keeps me alive." 

"Is that why I can't read you anymore?" She blurts out. "I don't know probably." You shrug. "Nat, she doesn't believe me… I saw it in her eyes." You mention quietly. Pietro rushes over to you and puts his arm around you, messing with your hair. "Well we believe you, isn't that right?" He looks at Wanda and she nods. He has to throw a piece of fruit at Vision. "Yes, I think there is something to your condition." He mentions a smile growing on his face… Or what you think he thinks is a smile. It causes everyone to break out into laughter. After that you and the twins have a nice couple of days hanging out and living in some type of normalcy. You would watch the Dik Van Dyke show and Bewitched per Wanda's request and then one night something was off again. "Wanda… something's off. It's different." Is the last thing you manage to say before Vision rushes over to your side. This time the threat was internal… your heart. 

"Y/n to my understanding your heart is going into cardiac arrest. Stop fighting your mind, it will protect you." He mentions. You clutch your chest and let your mind loose. "Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner have been informed and will be here soo…'' is all your hear before you black out. You're in and put at one point you think you see Bruce but you're not sure. Then you're back in that white tundra and she's there waiting for you with a warm smile on her face. "Why do we keep meeting like this?" You ask as you run towards her. "It's you…" Is all she says hugging you. "Yes, who else would it be." You say playfully. She chuckles but she shakes her head. "It's you we meet on your terms. You only let me in when your guard is down." She steps back. "Are your okay?" She asks cautiously. "I really hope so." You say honestly taking a seat on the floor. "That's not what I meant… I-i um I had to give you a push in Vienna." She sits next to you. "That was you! Of course that makes sense. What do they mean." She smiles. "You'll figure it out… I know you will." She says again and you lay your head on her lap. She runs her fingers through your hair humming. "How long can I stay here with you like this?" You ask with your eyes closed. "As long as your want monkey."

"Where is she, is she okay? What the hell happened?" Tony burst into the compound the anger masking how scared he was. "Dr. Cho is in there right now and she's stable. She's almost done. Dr. Banner is assisting" Vision answers Tony calms down slightly turning to the twins. "What the hell happened?" They both shrug and Pietro speaks up. "You should ask her." He says his head nodding towards Nat. Tony makes a double take when Steve and Sam walk out behind her. Natasha walks up to them "What happened?" Tony only signs "That seems to be the Billion Dollar question." Wanda jumps back in. "She said something was off… something happened in Vienna." Now Pietro get defensive and jumps in to back his sister. "She said you didn't believe her." Tony turns to Nat. "Did she tell you this?"

"What was I supposed to believe Tony… she knew a building was going to explode before it did." Tony is now pacing. "She told you something was wrong… MY DAUGHTER told you something was wrong, that something was wrong with her. And you didn't think to tell me!" Natasha is left speechless and so is everyone else. That's when Dr. Cho walks back into the waiting room. "The surgery was a success and we replaced the damaged heart. She should wake up in a couple of hours depending as their medications wear off." She says not noticing the tension. Tony sighs in relief and Dr. Cho walks off. Tony points at Natasha. "You will stay away from her agent Romanoff." With that he walks off. 

It had been more than a few hours. It had been days and you hadn't woken up. "What is happening to her?" Tony hadn't left your side. Everyone had stopped by everyday their hopes diminished. Bruce calls him over and makes him take a seat. "Tony we have to wake her up soon!" He nods. "Of course we do!" He says looking at Bruce shake his head. "Her medical directives legally bind us to remove all life sustaining measures after two weeks."

[danganronpa-21]

Naegiri Week Day 2 - Work

Looks like I spoiled all of you yesterday by posting in the afternoon! As you can see, we’re back to more “regular” Koto posting times. Fear not, though, as my piece for Work is finally here! This time around, I have no warnings to issue before you start reading the text. It should be pretty safe. I hope the story is to your liking!

_______________________

Makoto was at the computer again.

 Should that have surprised her? He’d been there every day for a week. He migrated to it in the way that a moth might journey towards a flame; it entranced him in a way that others could not comprehend. Well… perhaps the moth metaphor wasn’t the best way of putting it. Any idiot would be able to see that his fixation on the system had been born of desperation, rather than admiration of its beauty. After all, how could he grow to admire a healing project that become corrupt, swallowed by the very despair it was meant to fight against? His heart was far too gentle to ever be drawn in by something like that, and Kyoko supposed that was why she worried. Too many hours subjecting himself to all of that suffering wouldn’t be good for his kind soul. The fact that he scarcely ever seemed to leave it behind would be just as bad for his body, too.

 “Makoto.” Her hand found its way to his shoulder without thinking, squeezing tightly as if that would somehow reassure him that she was there. Everyone knew they should have been more worried that he’d gotten to the point where he needed that, but with the program going haywire and students losing entire consciousnesses… well, the mental health of the Super High School Level Hope had to be put on the backburner. That was what the others told her, anyway. She, on the other hand, struggled to believe it.

 Her friend seemed to respond only slightly, glancing back at her. Though she couldn’t see his face fully, she noticed the dark circles and half-lidded eyes right away. He looked so tired that she feared he might suddenly drop at any second. “Yeah? You need something from me, Kiri?”

 Kyoko’s brows furrowed, but she couldn’t be bothered to change them back to a more neutral position. Makoto wouldn’t listen to that. She doubted that he would listen to any change in expression, even if she glared and scowled. At this point, he was a man possessed. “This is your eighth day managing the Hope Restoration Program.”

 He blinked sleepily at her, reaching up to rub one of his eyes without a hint of irony. “What about it?”

 “You were also up managing it until four o’clock in the morning last night. Togami-kun told me you had very clear intent to continue working on it, and would have if he hadn’t stopped you. He also informed me that this was not the first night this week that he caught you managing the program into the late hours of the morning.” She hated having to be stern with him. It always made her feel like she came off as thinking he was inferior to her in some way, but it was more about using status to get him to take a break. Sweet as a peach, that boy was, but he failed to listen when it came to taking care of himself. This wasn’t the first Kyoko resorted to pulling rank to get him to do as he needed. “You need some time away from the computer. This is getting out of hand.”

 Makoto could do little more than grin weakly at her. “I appreciate your concern, Kirigiri-san, but I’m okay. Really!” The yawn he suppressed did little to convince her. “I honestly feel like… like I’m at my best when I’m here working.”

 “Yes, well, being consumed by rampant anxiety about what will happen to Class 77 at any moment that you’re not around would be the reason for that.”

 You’d think Kyoko had kicked him with the way his expression deflated, tilting his chin down like a puppy who had just finished being scolded for chewing an armchair. Hints of rouge spread across his cheeks at the reprimanding. She supposed she could have felt guilty, watching him slump in his chair like that. Heaven knew that she probably should have, but she couldn’t justify that pit in her stomach when she was already so worried about him. Tough love would hopefully be the reality check he desperately needed. Makoto certainly had the tendency to be stubborn when he set his mind to something, but did he really intend for this to be the battle he picked?

 Folding her arms, Kyoko let out a sigh. “You know I am right, do you not?”

 He didn’t meet her eyes; his blinking growing rapid for a few seconds. Did she perhaps cut too deep with that comment about his anxiety? She suddenly felt the urge to snatch every word back out of the air. It felt like she’d just picked the wrong option in a dating simulator game and lost relationship points. If she hadn’t been raised to be perfectly stoic, perhaps she would have been able to reach out to him. Instead, though, she could only stand as still as she could manage; her gaze fixed itself on him intently.

 “I do...” Her heart broke over how slurred the words sounded. Two simple words, and he could barely keep them apart. The tension his shoulders had lost transferred to her own with ease. Something about this behaviour was very much not right, and the feeling of it squirmed in Kyoko’s belly like a ball of worms. “I’m just… is just… I’m…”

 “Naegi-kun?”

 It surprised her, how soft her voice sounded. It had been ages since she’d had to speak to anyone that softly, much less him. When push came to shove, he was usually the one lifting her spirits. Not the other way around!

 Without thinking, she crept closer to him, leaning over slightly to try and lift his head to look at his face. She had barely even reached her hand out to place it upon his chin when he tilted his head up for her, staring at her with pathetically sleepy eyes. When he tried to speak, all that came out was a pathetic whine.

  “Kirigiri-san…”

 “I have never seen you this pale before. I know you have not been sleeping recently, but what about eating and drinking? If you are lacking in sleep and in blood sugar, then I think we have lots of cause to be concerned.” She blinked quietly at him, waiting for an answer. “Well?”

 “Um… I had some berries, recently. I think.” He was practically a ragdoll in Kyoko’s hand, his neck feeling almost like it would let him fall limp if she didn’t keep her hand where it was. “One of the older recruits brought them for me.”

 “What kind?”

 “Blackberries and blueberries.”

 Ugh. Of course they brought him a bowl of berries that didn’t serve to elevate the blood glucose levels by more than a hair. As sweet as it was that they were looking out for him, she couldn’t help but be annoyed that they hadn’t made better nutritional choices. Admittedly, some of that irritation did come from the fact that she knew she probably should have been the one making him sandwiches or something… but that was beside the point. He’d been too long without proper elevation in his blood sugar, and his use of the word ‘recently’ told her all she needed to know. She found herself shaking her head in frustration.

 “Do you remember when you had them?”

 He blinked slowly. When he got to be this way, she supposed he kind of reminded her of a sloth. All slow movements and droopy eyes. Come to think of it, she actually quite liked sloths. They were cute, just like sleepy Makoto would be, if he weren’t on the verge of collapse. The more girlish, romantic part of her wanted to scoop him up in her arms and carry him off to bed as if he were a cuddly pet. But that would be unprofessional in a workplace environment.

 “Um…” He looked down at his hands for a moment, as if he were prepared to start counting on his fingers. He never was all that good at math. “No, I don’t… don’t know.”

 Could one involuntarily roll their eyes? If they couldn’t, Kyoko felt uncertain of how she would explain her response to his answer, then. Shame crept into her being. Realistically, as his boss and best friend, she should have been doing a better job of looking out for him. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known that he would be at the computer all day, every day for the next little while. She had seen all of the signs of his fixation, and just hadn’t known how to stop it. Seeing where that fixation brought him only made the horrid sense of dread pooling in her belly worse.

 “Alright,” she gently released his face, “We need to get you out of here. You have spent enough time in front of the computer as of late and I’m genuinely worried that you are going to collapse. What you need now is food, water, and a good sleep.”

 A frown etched itself into Makoto’s expression, making the already exhausted boy look borderline pitiful. He was practically     sulking. “Kirigiri-san… I don’t want to… to… to leave them.”

 Tenderly, she reached over and grabbed hold of his arm to try and help him to his feet. “Nor should you have to. I will see to it that someone takes your place here monitoring Class 77.” Though seeing him in such a state hurt, she pushed what little smile her iron mask could manage. He said to her once that her smile gave him strength, and at this point, she figured he needed all of the strength she could give him. “You have done excellent work so far, Naegi-kun, but I need you to rest. Perhaps we can have Togami-kun take over from here. You trust him, don’t you?”

 He nodded. “I do… you promise… things will be okay?”

 “Of course, Naegi-kun. You know that Togami-kun and I share your ideals just as much as anyone else. We want to see these students survive and succeed as well. We would never want to do anything that would hurt them, nor you.” She nudged him slightly. “Now, really. We need to get some food in your system sooner rather than later.”

 He nodded again, the beginnings of a grin cracking through his tired face. He didn’t appear stable otherwise, but she imagined she should be allowed to count that twinge of hope as a victory. Now, if they could just overcome the trouble of the fact that his body was absolutely trembling from lack of energy, that would be great. The tremors were so strong that she almost worried that he might start to make her shake too.

 “I’m going to help you to your feet, okay?”

 “Okay.”

 ‘On the count of three’, Kyoko told herself. For most people, having health this bad would be cause for concern, but for Makoto it was all that much worse. Not only had he poorly taken care of himself, he somehow thought it was a good idea to neglect his health when he was prone to fainting. Whether it was extreme psychological or physical distress, Kyoko had seen him faint faster than Byakuya could reject “commoner food”. She witnessed it only a few times, and each and every time it got more uncomfortable to watch. Every time it happened, she found her heart rate increased to the heaviest levels it could maintain. Holding onto Makoto now, she prayed silently that he wouldn’t faint.

 One.

 Two.

 Three.

 Warily, she took hold of his other elbow and began to lift him from his seat. Though it would benefit her to check her surroundings as they moved, she refused to take her eyes off him. As far as she was concerned, his expression needed to be surveyed at all times. Any twist or twinge could alert her to his potential collapse. She couldn’t afford to let the situation fall outside of her control — she liked her control, thank you very much. For his sake, she tried to keep her cool. It was a bit of effort to ensure that anxiety didn’t force her finger tips to dig into him as she lifted him up, but she coped well enough. 

 Judging by the look on his face, they appeared to be making decent progress. For the most part his gaze directed itself towards his own body. He watched himself with as much intensity as his sleepy eyes could manage; he fixated on every shake and slight hesitation. Was he as worried as she was about completely falling apart? He was rising to his feet with as much grace as he could muster, only stopping to cringe when he stood at full height. His jaw clenched almost immediately. Kyoko’s heart skipped a beat.

Unable to control her worries, she leaned close to get a better look at him. He would certainly be able to feel her breath on his skin from this distance. “Is something wrong?” 

His skin paled rapidly, dragging itself to a hue that didn’t even appear human. Had she held less self-control, she would have scooped him up and carried him off to bed right then and there.

 “You’re losing your pallor, Naegi-kun.”

 He tried to wave her off despite his obvious distress, his body swaying slightly. “I’m just dizzy, that’s all. Just… dizzy.”

 As much as she wanted to believe that he would be fine, his eyes looked like they were about two seconds away from rolling back into his head. His feet were already starting to wobble off-course, and if that were to happen, the rest of his body would surely follow suit.

 “Are you sure?” Kyoko suddenly realized that she had a huge lump in her throat. “You have yet to see any spots? Your stomach is settled?”

 If the world functioned according to her preferences, Makoto would have answered right away. If things went according to her plans, he’d tell her that he felt fine, and had simply been overcome by a twinge of vertigo. In her ideal world, this is how things would be. It would not involve the ominously vague groan he released instead, with one of his hands reaching up to hold his head.

 Shaking him was the last thing he needed, but it was all she could think to do. “Hey. Naegi-kun, come on. Stay with me,” as his head began to hang once more, she tilted her head in a futile attempt to get a better look at his face, “Are you going to faint?”

 “Y-Yeah…”

 The universe could squeeze only a few more blinks out of him until he finally fell limp like a ramen noodle. Even with the advantage of holding his elbows, Kyoko still had to rush to catch Makoto before he hit the floor. That cheeky luck of his had been very close to running its course, too, for it tried to pull him to fall to the right. If she let him fall that way, he would smash his head into the desk and all of the computer equipment — and then they’d have a concussion to worry about, as well as his lack of sleep and poor nutrition. Catching him in time honestly felt like a miracle, her arms making quick release of his elbows to swoop under his arms and keep him from tumbling over like a deflated toy. Thankfully, her grandfather’s martial arts training made her skilled at moving quickly; they made the rush to grab him swift. Not elegant by any means — she nearly punched him in the chest as opposed to sticking her arm under his own — but it was doable. It did take her a minute to adjust to the weight of an extra person in her care, but she took it in stride. With a heave of her shoulders, she wiggled to stand him a bit more upright, so most of his weight leaned on her shoulder.

 “Please, Naegi-kun… Take better care of yourself,” she whispered, “If not for your sake, then… please do it for mine.”

_______________________

Waking up with no idea where he was or how he got there was the kind of thing that sent Makoto into a panic the second it happened. A year had passed since the killing game, yet he still startled awake in a feverish panic if he woke up with even a moment of forgetfulness. He’d immediately sit upright in bed, gaze tracing the room for some sign that he was still in the world he remembered. The rooms at Future Foundations’ headquarters tended to be so barren that there was never truly much to ground himself with. Perhaps a calendar flipped to the correct date and time, or a special trinket from a specific pocket of aided citizens. Nothing more than that, which usually made it difficult to figure out where one was. When this happened, panic would settle into Makoto’s bones within a matter of minutes; his heart beating wildly as he fought off the urge to dash around the room. Simply sitting there and trying to convince himself that he felt like a normal human being felt like far too much of a hassle to do, yet it was where he found himself. Groggy, disoriented, and light-headed, trying to figure out what happened. Where was he?

 His tired eyelids allowed him to blink once. Twice. Part of him wanted to be surprised by the fact that he still couldn’t see anything, but the heaviness of sleep just made things so damn blurry. Future Foundation rooms were already so arid, but their rooms on Jabberwock Island were somehow worse. Everything about it just screamed generic island room, or as Makoto saw it currently: generic island-flavoured blobs. He reached up to rub at his eyes, doing his best to ignore the spinning feeling that refused to ease into nothingness. Exhaustion had such a grip on him that even this barely helped. Somehow, everything still looked and felt unreal. Had the next occurrence taken place only thirty seconds later, he might have laid back down and decided that this was all a dream. But it clearly hadn’t been, for the knock on the door was completely off-cue.

 Thump, thump, thump.

 Plain, spiritless, to the point. Yep, anyone who knew her would recognize Kyoko’s knock within an instant. She always did have this formal way of rapping on a door. He used to tease her in their early days of working together, insisting that it was a “boss knock”. Unfortunately, she never found it as funny as he did.

 “Naegi-kun? Are you awake in there?” Her tone came out so much softer than he expected to hear. Most of the time she spoke just loud enough to be audible, and clear enough so no adversary could detect emotion through it. In some ways, it still maintained this aspect of her character, but… he did remark it was a little outside of the realm of normal Kyoko things. Was she actually worried about waking him up?

 When he opened his mouth to answer, the words got caught half-way up his throat. “Yeah, I’m awake,” god, he could barely believe that strained voice belonged to him, “I think.”

 Kyoko let out a slight snort on the other side of the door; it made a smile tug at the corners of Makoto’s mouth. She almost never showed it to anyone, but she had an adorable laugh. That little snort was the extent of what she’d do in public, yet he adored hearing it all the same. “Well, if you’ll allow me in, I have something that might make you feel better.”

 Though he knew she couldn’t see him, he nodded to the door anyway. “By all means.”

 There was a split second of pause before the doorknob twisted, and then she nudged her way in with her foot. When the door swung open to reveal Kyoko, she fortunately looked the same as Makoto remembered her — tall, slim, long lavender hair tied out of the way, striking purple eyes and kissable pink lips. Gulp. Maybe not the time to think about kissing. He directed his attention instead to the brown cafeteria tray she held in her hands. He couldn’t see much on it apart from a tall glass of water, but the aroma promised him something with… chicken? Had she brought him cream stew? Something like that would hit the spot right about now. In all of his confusion, he’d barely had the time to process the painful emptiness of his belly. 

 “You seem to have woken up just in time,” she sounded half-amused as she strode into the room, but struggled to replicate the sentiment through emoting, “Your shichuu would have gotten cold otherwise, and I’m sure you know microwaved shichuu is nowhere near as good as fresh.”

He mustered a laugh. Her shichuu comment was something he’d told her once during his many infamous rambles. As corny as it was, the soup wasn’t the only thing that warmed his heart. The fact that she remembered something as silly as that worked wonders, too. “You’re the best, Kirigiri-san. Thanks so much.”

 Her shoulders quirked, her mouth twitching downwards ever so slightly. “Think nothing of it. In fact, consider it an apology.”

 By no intention of his own, his eyebrows squished together. A pursing of his lips followed suit. “An apology? What for?

 The detective let out a sigh, taking a seat in the rather unremarkable chair positioned at the edge of his bed. She slid the tray onto her lap almost teasingly, or perhaps it wasn’t so much teasing as taunting. His stomach let out a loud growl at the sight of it, causing him to clutch it in embarrassment. If Kyoko noticed, she didn’t utter a word. 

 “Do you remember what happened before you woke up here?”

 Makoto shook his head, wincing when that made the spinning worse. Note to self: don’t do that.

 “Well, in summary, you worked yourself to the brink of exhaustion and passed out. I carried you here.”

 Heat rose in his cheeks. God, he hoped she hadn’t carried him bridal-style. Oh, what if the other foundation members saw?! His temperature elevated suddenly. If anyone else saw her do that, he would never live it down! They already teased him for being wrapped around Kyoko’s finger. He’d even earned himself an inappropriate workplace nickname because of it, as well as the rumour that the two of them were taking a little too much pleasure in each other’s company outside of office hours.

 She appeared to notice the rising colour in his skin. “You needn’t make that face. Nobody saw apart from Togami-kun.”

 A groan tore its way through his throat; his hands rushing to clutch his head in exasperation. “You say that like it’s not bad. He’s going to taunt me about that for weeks.” 

The lavender-haired woman shrugged, her gaze not lifting from the bowl of soup in her lap. “He already tried it with me. Kept asking me if I was taking my boyfriend somewhere for a nap.”

 Though Makoto would have actually liked for that to have been true, he still found himself sighing just a bit. “I really hope that he’s gotten it all out of his system, then…”

 “We can only hope,” she continued to refuse to meet his face, “Getting away from that, though… there is something that I wanted to ask you.”

 “Oh?”

 That bowl of soup seemed to be getting more eye contact from his crush than he was. She was staring into it like a reflective romcom protagonist at a low moment. “Why?”

 What a clear question. He couldn’t help but shake his head again. Leave it to her to be as cryptic as possible. Sometimes, he wondered if she enjoyed being needlessly unusual, or if it was just a special talent. Still, he tried not to let his frustration show. “What do you mean by that, Kirigiri-san?”

 She poked at one of the vegetables with the spoon; it bobbed up and back down. “I want to understand why you were so fixated on the program,” a crease began to form between her brows, making it look vaguely like the soup had wronged her somehow, “There have been a variant of different people monitoring the Neo World Program participants, yet none of them took to it the way you did.”

 Thinking made his head ache. Not that much thinking had been done since he’d come to. An angrier part of him wanted to reach out and pry the soup from Kyoko’s hands just so the room would stop spinning so much, and he could actually consider her question. But that would be rude, and Makoto was not a rude man, so he just sat there. 

 “Well?”

 “I don’t know.”

 Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her pressing her lips together in a thin line. “I think you do.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he replied almost instantly.

 “Then you can’t have your soup.”                

 His arms folded across his chest; his lower lip jutting out. “You already haven’t given me my shichuu.”

 “Will you talk if I give it to you?”

 “Yes.”

  She lifted the tray into Makoto’s lap, allowing him to take in the full scent. It smelled amazing – someone else definitely had to have made this for him. As much as he adored his boss and thought of her like she painted the night sky, her cooking was the worst he’d ever had. One could usually confirm whether or not it was her cooking by lack of stench alone, so the pleasant aroma wafting into his nose meant that it would be safe to eat. “Then here’s your soup.”

 “Can I have my spoon?”

 She let out a small grumble and placed the spoon on the tray, tapping her foot impatiently. “There. Now eat.”

 For a moment he considered giving her a cheeky answer, but quickly decided against it. When her patience had worn thin, she didn’t tend to take so well to teasing. Deliberately pushing her buttons would only serve to get him into much more trouble. So rather than giving it any more, he dug into the delectable dish in front of him. He’d be the first to admit that his consumption of the dish ended up being a little sloppy, but he could barely help himself. More than a few times the liquid threatened to dribble down his chin, and he’d be forced to stop it from dripping into his lap. If Kyoko had any sort of opinion on this, she neglected to share it. She simply sat there and watched him eat. Man, with her watching him like that, it was like being a suspect she intended to interrogate. The air had grown a little too tense for his liking, especially with the only sound being his slurping and chewing.

 “Are you going to sit there and watch me the whole time?”

He hadn’t meant for the question to sound harsh, but she sure seemed to take it that way, retorting: “Are you ever going to start talking?”

 He bit his lip, tensity beginning to build in his shoulders. The affection he held for her was something he knew to be real, yet when she spoke to him like that, he couldn’t help but wonder if she even liked him at all. Her bluntness could be a lot. “If you wanted me to start talking, you could have just asked.”

 She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

 “What’s gotten into you?” He complained, startling even himself. “Why are you being so harsh about this? You were acting all sweet when you came in here, and now you’re grumbly. Did I do something?”

 Her frown deepened. “Yes, you did.”

 “What did I do, then?”

 “You worried me.” She answered curtly, the tone coming out so sharp that even she jerked herself back in surprise. Makoto opened his mouth to make an attempt at saying something, but shut himself up just as quickly when he saw blood rush in Kyoko’s cheeks. A flustered Kyoko was almost always a Kyoko with more to say. “You and I have known each other for several years, and I have yet to see you work yourself in a manner this dangerous. You have had a complete disregard for your health these past few weeks, and quite frankly, it’s frightening me.”

 He swallowed thickly and lowered his spoon toward the bowl. He’d barely noticed, but it was already half-full. “I’m… sorry. I never meant to scare you.”

 Her arms folded across her chest, bitterness dripping from her voice. “Then what were you trying to do?”

  “Help,” he choked, “The students in the program, I mean. I’m sorry, Kirigiri-san… I know I’ve given you nothing but trouble, but I just… I had to help them.”

 “I wouldn’t say that you gave me nothing but trouble-”

 He shook his head frantically. “No, it’s alright Kirigiri-san. I know I’ve been trouble these past few weeks, and I’m sorry about that. I just haven’t felt anything like myself lately. Ever since Monokuma showed up in the program, and everything got corrupted… I’ve been desperate to keep an eye on things. I feel like if I leave the students alone, they’ll…”

 She nodded gently, her scowl finally starting to ease. He wondered if she would give him her hand if he asked. Touch happened to be an aspect of connection that she struggled with, but she knew how much it reinvigorated him. Maybe he could get her to crack, just this once. “I know,” she whispered, “I know.”

 “We’ve lost so many of them already. I can’t stand the thought of losing more,” he willed himself not to cry, his words tripping over the lump in his throat, “Every time I’m away from the program, I can’t stop thinking about them. We know how that feels, and it’s our responsibility to stop it.”

 “We’re doing everything we can, Naegi-kun, I promise you.”

 “I want to be doing more, Kirigiri-san. I want to be giving them everything I have, because if the shoe was on the other foot, I know they would be doing the same for me.”

She shut her eyes softly. “You don’t want them to suffer like we did.”

 “Exactly,” he sighed, “Exactly.”

 “I understand your reasoning. Really, I do.” She rested her hand on his wrist without him even having to ask. His heart fluttered at the sensation of her gloved hands on his skin. “However, no good can come from working ourselves to the point of collapse. The lives of the students within that program are irreplaceable, yes, but so is yours. What would happen to everyone here if we lost you? What would I do?”

Oh. He… had not considered that.

 Guilty silence ate him within seconds. It would be simple to say that they could carry on in his absence with Kyoko as their valiant leader, he knew that would not be the case. When they lost their hope, he was the one they turned to for guidance and encouragement. His ideals were the ones that shaped their whole project; nobody would be there without him. If he were to keel over and die without another word, the team would be devastated. His friends would be devastated. “I guess I didn’t think about that.”

 “I’d suggest you start, then. We all want to have you around for the foreseeable future.” A slight smile carved its way into her face as she leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head. “You’ve been working so hard to give everyone this hope… I think you deserve to be around to enjoy some of it for yourself, too.”

 Makoto tried desperately not to blush. “I guess you’re right,” he murmured, finally finding the strength to smile, “I’ve got to take care of myself to share in that hope, too.”

[fanfictionaries]

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 19 - Shoot The Moon

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

Summer has ended and students return to King’s Cross to begin another year at Hogwarts. 

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note:

For some reason Tumblr wouldn’t take my formatting like it has with previous chapters. I swear it’s a freaking crap shoot whether it will EVERY time I poster on here. It would be nice to know how that works...

Anyways, please enjoy :) 

Masterlist

<<<Chapter 18

 Summer days are gone too soon

You shoot the moon

And miss completely

And now you’re left to face the gloom

The empty room that once smelled sweetly

Of all the flowers you plucked if only

You knew the reason

Why you had to each be lonely

Was it just the season?

 Hermione Granger was nothing if not a punctual person. At the best of times she was fifteen minutes early and at the worst she was on time. However, she should have known that the Weasley family would want to stick true to their tradition of arriving at King’s Cross by the skin of their teeth. Tapping her foot impatiently as she stood in the busy kitchen, Hermione worked very hard at fighting off a headache. Mrs. Weasley was screaming at the twins for charming their trunks and accidentally knocking Ginny down two flights of stairs and Walburga was screaming because Mrs. Weasley was screaming. She checked her watch for the umpteenth time that morning and ran a hand over her hair. They may not even make it on time at all if they carried on this way, she thought irksomely. Especially if they waited any longer on Sturgis Podmore to show up like Moody wanted them to. The last thing she needed was to miss the train on her first day as a Prefect. Smirking to herself, Hermione stared down at the silver pin fitted snuggly to the front of her jumper and admired it. Prefect. She had done it. Just one step closer to Head Girl.

A tap at the kitchen window brought Hermione out of her musings. Looking up she saw the brilliant, snowy visage of Hedwig. Hermione sighed, striding towards the window, and throwing it open. Hedwig flew in, looking quite flustered for a bird. Perhaps she also knew they were running late. Cursing in her head, Hermione wondered if perhaps her parents had forgotten that today was the day she left for Hogwarts. Why else would they have chosen to send Hedwig back so late in the morning? She took the letter from her parents out of Hedwig’s clutch and then allowed the bird to climb onto her shoulder. The owl’s long talons dug sharply into her skin, holding on for dear life as Hermione sprinted out of the kitchen and up the stairs. On the second floor landing she spotted Crookshanks stalking a stray mouse and scooped him up as well. The giant orange beast squirmed in her arms, putting up a fight but possessing enough respect to keep his claws put away.

 “Oh stop, Crooks. Honestly, you’ve spent all summer doing whatever you please. Just cooperate with me for one second,” Hermione groaned, holding onto her cat even tighter and bounding up the last flight of stairs to Harry and Ron’s room.

 “Sorry Harry! Mum and dad only just sent Hedwig back,” she apologized, walking across her friends’ messy room to place Hedwig in her cage. “Are you just now getting dressed?”

 “Uh yeah, I slept late,” Harry mumbled, buttoning the last button on his shirt, and moving to pull on his socks and shoes.

 Hermione sighed, placing Crookshanks down on the bed and taking a moment to stare critically at her best friend. Harry had mentioned the resurgence of his nightmares earlier in the summer when she found him wandering the halls late at night. She had been on her way back to her room from another late-night library session with Fred, but of course she didn’t tell Harry that. While what her and Fred were doing wasn’t necessarily wrong, there was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that they should keep it to themselves. People just wouldn’t understand.

 However, looking at Harry now, Hermione didn’t need her former knowledge of Harry’s nightmares to know that he wasn’t sleeping well. He had circles under his eyes, and despite Mrs. Weasley’s cooking the past month he still looked too thin.

 “How’s Ginny?” Harry asked, tying his laces.

 Hermione rolled her eyes. “She’s fine. Mrs. Weasley is patching her up in the kitchen. I wouldn’t go down there right now though if I were you. It’s a zoo. Mrs. Weasley and Walburga are still yelling and now Mad-Eye’s complaining that we can’t leave until Sturgis Podmore shows up. Otherwise the guard will be one short,” said Hermione, leaning against the end of the bed and petting Crookshanks idly.

 “Guard?” Harry asked, looking up from his shoes. “We have to go to King’s Cross with a guard?”

 “You have to go to King’s Cross with a guard,” corrected Hermione.

 “Why?” questioned Harry, standing up in an irritated fashion.

 Hermione scoffed, “Why do you think, oh Boy Who Lived?”

 “I thought Voldemort was supposed to be lying low. What, do they think he’ll be waiting behind a dustbin at the train station, waiting to do me in?”

 “I don’t know. It’s just what Mad-Eye says,” said Hermione, fighting to stay calm and sympathetic. She was getting a bit tired of Harry’s moody demeanour.

 Her assumption about Harry’s arrival at the beginning of the month had been correct. Harry had been irate. At everyone, but especially at her and Ron. Luckily, Fred and George swooped in at the right time, just like Fred had said they would. Bless the both of them. Hermione didn’t know how much more chastising she could take, she already felt guilty for not writing to him. She’d apologized at least a thousand times over in the last month, but Harry still had a sour mood and while Hermione had been prone to tears at the beginning, now she was just frustrated.

 “Look, I’m not too happy about it either. Do you think I want to be late today?” Hermione asked snippily, looking at her watch once again.

“Will you lot get down here now?!” Mrs. Weasley’s bolstering voice boomed up through the stairwell and Hermione pushed off the bed with a sigh. She grabbed Crookshanks in her arms once again and headed towards the door. “Are you coming?” she asked once she got to the doorway.

 “Yeah, right behind you,” nodded Harry, looking a bit pink in the face. Perhaps her comment had embarrassed him. Hermione smiled at the thought. It would do him good to remember he wasn’t the only one with problems in the world.

 Hermione hurried down the stairs, running into the twins halfway down.

 “Well if it isn’t our favourite little Prefect,” said George, reaching out and ruffling the top of Hermione’s head. Hermione batted his hand away before reaching the bottom of the stairs and placing Crookshanks in his carrier.

 “I’m not speaking with you two,” she sniffed, looking away from them and instead focusing her attention on getting the finicky latch closed tightly on her cat’s wicker carrier.

 “Oh? Why’s that Hermione?” the two asked in unison.

 “I’m annoyed with you both,” responded Hermione in an off-handed manner.

 “Annoyed?” asked Fred with a shocked tone.

 “With us?” asked George, sounding equally as surprised.

 “That can’t be right—” Fred leaned against the wall beside her and took the strap from Hermione’s hands, latching the carrier closed with ease “—we’re angels, we are.”

 “You knocked your sister down two flights of stairs!”

 “By accident!” cried Fred and George.

 “Yes, well still. I hope you know that I will not tolerate that kind of behaviour once we get to Hogwarts.”

 “I knew this would happen Freddie,” said George, shaking his head solemnly.

 “We really should have prepared ourselves more for this inevitable betrayal,” added Fred woefully.

 “Our little Hermione, a swotty Prefect.”

 “No more fun.”

 “No more laughs.”

 “Oh the laughs we’ve had,” bemoaned George wistfully, throwing himself dramatically onto Fred’s shoulder.

 “You two are ridiculous—” Hermione shook her head, unable to stop the smile from forming on her face “—I told you before. Just because I’m a Prefect doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being fun—”

 “You were fun before?” asked Ron cheekily, entering the hallway with a cauldron cake in hand.

 Hermione scowled at him. “Ha, ha, very funny Ron. You know, you’re a Prefect too now. You should start practicing a bit more civility.”  

 Ron smirked, ignoring her comment, and instead taking a bite of the cauldron cake before going over to stand near Tonks and Ginny.

 Hermione turned back to the twins who stared down at her expectantly, waiting to hear the rest of the speech she’d given at least three times over since she’d received the letter with her silver Prefect pin. “Now, as I was saying. I’m not going to turn into a monster. Just realize that I have an obligation to the school first and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you if need be.”

 “Reprimand, you hear that Freddie?” asked George with an impish expression.

 “Sure did Georgie,” answered Fred, looking equally as puckish.

 “What are you going to do, Hermione?”

 “Give us a bit of a spanking?”

 Hermione blushed, furiously and against her better judgement. But she was more well-versed in the ways of the Weasley twins and so her embarrassment did not stop her from responding like it might have in previous years. Instead, she looked up confidently at the two and tried to put on what she could only imagine was a semblance of seduction. “Only if you’ve been bad boys.”

 The twins balked at her comment, mouths hanging open and ears tinging pink in a fashion very similar to Ron but very unfamiliar to them. Fred and George Weasley did not get embarrassed easily. If they had any kind of response, there was no time for it. A moment later, Mrs. Weasley came into the hallway from the kitchen and Harry came down the stairs. Walburga was still screaming insults from the wall, but all ears were trained on Mrs. Weasley’s instructions on who was going with who to King’s Cross and what to do with their trunks.

 A whirlwind of people, crosswalks, and magical barriers and Hermione was finally on Platform 9 ¾. In a way, Hermione was glad they had walked to the train station. It had given her a sense of control on how quickly they reached the train and she had practically run the entire way, Mr. Weasley and Ron on her heel. Once the stress of getting on the train was gone, Hermione was faced with a whole slew of new worries. Sirius had insisted on coming to the station with them and had done his absolute most to stand out like a sore thumb in his Animagus form.

 “He shouldn’t have come with us,” she said, watching the black dog chase the train exuberantly, as they took off from King’s Cross. The students in the train watched it laughing, and even some of the parents left on the platform smiled at the rambunctious dog. They wouldn’t be so cheerful if they knew it was Sirius Black, escaped Azkaban prisoner, thought Hermione cynically.

 “Oh give him a break. He hasn’t seen daylight in ages. Just blowing off a bit of steam he is,” said Ron, continuing to smile out the window at the dog quickly dwindling in size as the train travelled further from the station.

 “Well, as much as we’ve enjoyed your company these past few months, Georgie and I have some important business with people who well…”

 “—aren’t you lot,” George finished for Fred, giving them a short wave before the pair of them turned and disappeared into the next carriage.

 Hermione sighed, not even wanting to begin to think of the trouble they were sure to get up to. Over the remaining month they’d managed to nearly perfect their line of Skiving Snacks and have an admirable inventory at their dispense. As a Prefect, Hermione tried not to think about it. The less she knew, the better.

 “Should we find a compartment then?” asked Harry, turning to her and Ron looking the most cheerful he had all summer. It made what Hermione had to say next even harder. She chanced a look at Ron who was looking equally as guilty.

 “Oh…Harry. I thought you knew. Ron and I have to go to the Prefect’s carriage,” she said, watching the smile fall from Harry’s face. She looked back to Ron, hoping for some support but he was looking anywhere but Harry, focusing intently on one of the wall-mounted light fixtures as if he were seeing it for the first time.

 “Oh—” Harry nodded “—right. Fine.

 “I don’t think we’ll have to be there the whole time. Just long enough to get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then we have to patrol the corridors from time to time. We can still—”

 “It’s fine,” said Harry, cutting her off. He was using the clipped, overtly chipper tone he used when he was trying too hard to sound casual. “I might see you later then.”

 “Yeah, definitely!” Ron finally chimed in. “It’s a shame we have to go down there. I’d rather we didn’t, but…we have to. I guess…I mean I’m not enjoying it. I’m not bloody Percy.”

 Harry smiled again, this time in amusement at Ron’s rambling. “I know you’re not,” he said before waving them off to the Prefect compartment.

 Despite his reassurances that he was fine, Hermione felt guilty for leaving Harry there on his own.

 “He’ll be alright,” said Ron, leading her down the corridor towards the front of the train where the Prefect carriage waited for them. “I’m sure he’ll find Seamus or Dean or Neville or someone.”

 “Oh right…”

 It was easy to forget that they all had other friends outside of their small inner circle. Especially since for the longest time, Ron and Harry were her only friends. At least, her only close friends. Neville was her friend, she supposed. As were Fay and Emmy. She might even stretch as far as to say Lavender and Pavarti were her friends as well. Well…maybe more like close acquaintances.

 “Who do you think they chose for Slytherin Prefects?” Ron asked as they neared the front of the train.

 “With our luck it’ll be Malfoy and Parkinson,” grumbled Hermione, reaching the door to the Prefect’s compartment and sliding it open. It was almost poetic the way the moment the words left her mouth, the opening compartment door revealed none other than the two Slytherins in question. They sat in the corner, side-by-side, looking bored and smug. Their expressions only seemed to lighten when they spotted Ron and Hermione entering the compartment.

 “And I thought being a Prefect was supposed to be a place of honour—” Malfoy sneered, looking her and Ron up and down in a condescending manner “—now that I know they’ll give the job to just anyone, it takes away a bit of the prestige.”

 Pansy snickered.

 “Funny, I was just thinking the exact same thing,” Hermione spat back, staring Malfoy in the eye as she tried to telepathically burn him alive. If ever there was a time for emotion-fuelled accidental magic, thought Hermione, now would be it.

 “How dare you, you—”

 “Now, now—” cut in Roger Davies, a seventh year Ravenclaw and the newly appointed Head Boy “—leave the house rivalry for the classroom and the quidditch pitch.” Davies laughed, but Hermione could see the nervous glint in his eye as he gripped his wand tightly.

 “Bloody git,” Ron mumbled under his breath. Hermione didn’t know whether he was referring to Malfoy or Davies, but either way Hermione felt like it was fitting. The rest of the compartment seemed to feel the same as her, as both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Prefects were giving Davies wary looks while trying to create as much space as possible between themselves and the Slytherins. Hermione was grateful to see that the other Prefects were familiar faces. Padma Patil, Pavarti’s sister, was the spitting image of her twin and gave Hermione a small wave as she sat down. Hermione, while having limited interaction with the Ravenclaw, found that she liked her much more than Pavarti as they had a shared interest for learning. Anthony Goldstein, the other Ravenclaw Prefect, she recognized from Transfiguration classes years prior. He also gave them a brief greeting. Ernie MacMillan was there too, and while Hermione still didn’t care for him since his spread of lies about Harry their second year, his presence was soothed by the kind and quiet Hannah Abbott who sat next to him.

 “Now!” exclaimed Helen Monroe, the Head Girl, some time later. They were coming near to the end of their meeting, or at least that’s what Hermione assumed based on the agenda they had been given. Their meeting had taken much longer than either Hermione or Ron had anticipated. Ashamedly she thought of Harry sitting on his own in a compartment waiting for them. Merlin she hoped he had found someone to sit with instead of choosing to mope by himself. Maybe Fred and George had found him at the very least.

 “The last thing on our agenda we’d like to address before handing out patrol and meeting schedules is an issue of favouritism,” said Monroe with a smiling face.

 “Favouritism? What do ya mean?” asked Ernie, sounding affronted as if he’d just been personally accused of the offense.

 “Well, in the past we’ve had issues with Prefects showing house favouritism—”

 “—giving points where they’re undeserved and taking points away to give their house a leg up on winning the House Cup,” chimed in Davies.

 “And we just wanted to remind you that your responsibility is to the school and it’s students first and foremost. So please try and show some sense of neutrality, no matter who is involved, whether it’s those in your house or…family members…” Monroe shot a nervous look in Ron’s direction that Ron missed but Hermione did not.

 For a second she wondered if perhaps they were talking about Harry, given he was so prone to getting in trouble and then the truth of the implication hit her square in the face. Maybe she was spending too much time with Fred and George otherwise, she would have caught on immediately that that was exactly who the Heads were referring to. Hermione wanted to laugh. She almost did. Bringing a hand up to cover her mouth, she faked a cough to try and hide the bout of giggles threatening to escape her chest.  

 They were given their schedules after that. Hermione and Ron had the first set of patrols up and down the train, and so instead of heading straight towards Harry, they meandered down from the head of the train, peaking into compartments, and breaking up little spats between younger students. Ron seemed to take to the position of power quite well. Almost too well in some instances, Hermione having to remind him of the speech they’d just been given about abuse of power in favour of their house. He had been trying to take points from a group of third year Slytherins for being too loud – an offense that Hermione deemed worthy of a simple reminder. They were about halfway down the train, Ron trying to reverse a jelly-legs curse that had been set on a fourth year Ravenclaw by accident, when a compartment slid open and Hermione nearly collided with Angelina Johnson.

 “Oh!—” the Gryffindor chaser exclaimed, stopping short “—Hermione. Hi.”

 “Hi…” Hermione responded awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Suddenly she was very nervous, which was ridiculous because she had nothing to be nervous about! It’s not like her and Fred had really done anything. Intimate? Sure. But in a friendly sort of way. Nothing that when taken into context could be deemed inappropriate, reasoned Hermione. Although, if that were true then she wouldn’t have anything to be nervous about.

 “How was your summer?” the older girl asked.

 The question took Hermione by surprise. Why did Angelina Johnson care about her summer? They weren’t friends, and up until that point Hermione was under the impression that Johnson didn’t even like her all that much.

 “Fine. I spent most of it with Ron’s family,” Hermione said, trying to push past how odd it felt to be having a conversation with Fred’s girlfriend when she was madly in love with him and had spent most of her summer nights curled up on a couch or in his bed with him. In a totally appropriate way of course.

 “I thought you might have. George mentioned one time that you usually visit them during the summer,” said Johnson, nodding and looking nervously around them.

 “How was your summer? I heard you spent it at quidditch camp. How was that?” Hermione asked, trying to bridge the uncomfortable silence between them with polite conversation. Why were they still talking?

 “It was good. Yeah, really good. I learned a lot of…stuff.”

 Hermione nodded, raising her eyebrows in acknowledgement. When Johnson neglected to continue, Hermione glanced back in the compartment where Ron was patting an exhausted looking Ravenclaw student on the back, having just broken the curse. She wished he’d hurry up and save her from whatever was going on right then. Her attention was pulled back to the uncomfortable conversation when Johnson spoke once again.

 “Listen, Granger. Now that I’ve got you, I was wondering…” Johnson paused, seeming to contemplate her next words. “I was just wondering whether—”

 “There you are!” Ron exclaimed, exiting the compartment behind Hermione, and placing a hand on her shoulder. “You know, I really could have used your help in there. You’re much better at counter-curses than me Hermione. Oh, hi Johnson.”

 The older girl seemed to go all rigid and awkward at the appearance of Ron. She shifted from foot to foot and cleared her throat before straightening her position and taking on a completely different demeanour. “Weasley. How was your summer?”

 “Good, thanks. Not as good as yours I imagine. Quidditch camp! That must have been amazing!” mooned Ron, getting a sparkly look to his eye at the thought.

 “Yeah, it was great. Learned loads of stuff that should be sure to put Gryffindor in the lead this year. We need a new Keeper now that Oli, I mean—” Johnson coughed “—now that Wood’s gone. Will you be following the Weasley legacy and trying out?”

 Ron went red around the ears, ducking his head bashfully. “Actually, yeah. I thought I might.”

 “Good. I look forward to seeing what you’ve got,” said Johnson with finality before giving them both a small nod and moving past them down the train corridor.

 As strange as the interaction had been, only one thing seemed to stick with Hermione in that moment.

 “You didn’t tell me you were planning on trying out for the team!”

  Fred reckoned he should have known the minute Angelina neglected to show up to their usual compartment that something was up. Alicia had given some offhanded excuse of Angelina going to scout out compartments for potential quidditch recruits and Fred had bought it at face value. In the past he might have questioned it a bit more, gone looking for his long-time friend and currently girlfriend. But in a way it had been a relief for him to not have to deal with the issue of Angelina the moment he got on the train. He was much too excited to show Lee and Alicia their new products and didn’t want to sully it by breaking up with his girlfriend. It had been a long-time coming. He’d wanted to end things weeks ago but had ultimately decided that he couldn’t do it over letter. Him and Angelina had history and she definitely deserved more than a letter saying ‘Hey, this isn’t working. Mind if we just go back to being friends?’. Not to mention the girl got harder and harder to reach as the summer went on. The last letter she’d sent him had been nothing but a picture of her and the beater for the Holyhead Harpies with the words ‘Isn’t this rad? Missing you lots! x Angelina’ written on the back. And while it was cool, Fred couldn’t help but think that in a way it was a finality to their relationship for him. The two of them had never really been gossipy conversationalists, falling back more on their shared physical activities and the comfortable silence that came with old friendships, but this was a bit too sparse for him. He wanted more. He wanted something different. He wanted…Hermione.

 Luckily after the reveal of their new products, Lee wasted no time in bringing other students into their compartment to show off their goods. Before Fred knew it, he and George were completely immersed in their salesmen roles and so all thoughts of girls and relationships were quickly replaced with galleons, sickles, and knuts.

 By the time he and George had made it to the castle their pockets were significantly heavier and their spirits lighter than ever. They were almost completely out of fake wands, biting teacups, and spitting teapots. They had even been convinced by a group of second year Hufflepuffs to sell some of their Skiving Snack Box products – the sweets not yet fully through trial runs. Fred and George agreed but only if they were willing to report back on the effects. The students were happy to do so as it meant they got the sweets at a discount.

 The next clue that went unnoticed by Fred was the fact that Angelina chose to sit at the opposite end of the table as him at the feast. But Fred had been too excited, telling Hermione all about their sales, to notice. Besides, Alicia and Lee were sitting with her and Fred and George usually sat with their family at the start-of-term feast. Still, when Fred caught Angelina’s eye at the end of the table as the last of the first years took their seats, he found himself panicked at the odd look on his girlfriend’s face. Did she know? wondered Fred feeling the all too familiar summersault in his stomach. How could she possibly know? The only person who knew he wanted to break up with her was himself. He hadn’t even told George, although he suspected that George suspected as much.

 The churning sensation stuck with him all throughout dinner and resulted in him eating very little, something that did not go unnoticed by neither George nor Hermione.

 “You alright, mate? You barely touched your porkchops,” said George, licking the last of his chocolate ice cream from the back of his spoon.

 “Yes, and you didn’t even fight Ron for the last of the custard,” added Hermione, her comment touching Fred as she had remembered custard was the only pudding he really cared for.

 “I’m fine. My stomach’s just a bit upset,” he lied, chewing on the side of his thumb as he stared down at the table, tracing the grain of the wood with his eyes.

 “Maybe you should go and see Madame Pomfrey once the feast is over,” suggested Ginny kindly. Fred shot her an appreciative smile before returning his gaze to the table.

 “Well, now that our stomachs are full and our hearts are warm from friendly conversation, I’d like to take a moment of your time to go over the usual start-of-term announcements,” Professor Dumbledore’s gentle yet authoritative voice rang throughout the hall, pulling all attention to himself at the centre of the staff table. He went into his usual diatribe on how the Forbidden Forest was of course, forbidden, how Filch wanted to remind them that magic was off-limits in the corridors between classes, etc. etc. Lastly, he announced that there would be two changes in staffing: Professor Grubbly-Plank was back to take over his position as the teacher for Care of Magical Creatures, and their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was a woman named Professor Umbridge.

 At the mention of her name, Fred looked down the staff table for the first time that night to see a new addition. A stout, round woman in a garish-looking pink outfit sat where the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher usually did. Despite her loud outfit she had a very unpleasant look about her, decided Fred. Although, it didn’t really make much of a difference to him. They had a new Defense teacher just about every year now and seeing as it was his last year, it really was inconsequential. They were all the same in the end.

 “Hey, I know her,” commented Harry. “She was at my hearing at the ministry.”

 Fred found that kind of odd. What was a ministry official doing teaching at Hogwarts?

 Dumbledore moved on, beginning to talk about quidditch try-outs when the new DADA teacher did something that made her stick out from all the other defense teachers before her. She stood from her seat. Dumbledore stopped, midsentence and looked at the short woman. Professor Umbridge let out a, “Hem, hem,” and Fred thought for a second that he must be hallucinating. Was this woman really interrupting the headmaster to give some kind of speech? More gracious than Fred could ever imagine to be, Dumbledore allowed her to speak and speak she did.

 Her speech was long-winded, full of comments about Hogwarts’s greatness and how the Ministry placed a lot of stake into the education of young minds. It sounded like a lot of hot air in Fred’s opinion and one glance around the room at the other student’s and even some of the teacher’s faces told him that he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. When Professor Umbridge had the audacity to say that she hoped they would all become great friends Fred couldn’t help but utter a sarcastic, “That’s likely” which was mimicked in time by George as well.

 Then she spoke of progress and change and how things must be done for the better and Fred felt an all-new unease take over him. An unease that radiated throughout the entirety of the room for once she had finished and taken her seat, the hall was much quieter than before.

 “Well that was certainly illuminating,” Hermione whispered from beside him.

 “Don’t tell me you enjoyed that shite,” said Ron exasperatedly. “That had to be the most boring thing I’ve ever heard.

 “I said it was illuminating, not good,” sniped Hermione. “It certainly put things into perspective.”

 “It did?” asked Harry. “Sounded like a load of waffle to me.”

 “Yes, well there was a lot of important stuff in all that waffle if you’d been listening,” said Hermione, her mood turning dark. She had Fred’s attention now as well.

 “There was?” asked Ron dumbly.

 “All that talk of ‘progress for the sake of progress’ and ‘practices that must be prohibited’?”

 Ron and Harry shrugged at her, but Fred was beginning to understand what Hermione was getting at. If Umbridge worked for the ministry and believed that changes needed to be made at Hogwarts then—

 “It means the Ministry’s interfering at Hogwarts,” said Hermione, surmising Fred’s conclusion perfectly.

 The room burst into applause, Dumbledore having finished the last of his announcements and then students began to rise from their seats. Ron and Hermione stood, leaving to escort the first years back to Gryffindor tower. Fred laughed with George when Hermione looked like she was about to lose her head when Ron called the first years ‘midgets’. Turning his head away from the squabbling pair, his eyes fell once again on Angelina.

 Fred swallowed thickly.

 If ever there was a time, it was now. He should just do it. Get it over with. Break her heart and hope that they could move on. Trying to find the bright side to it, he told himself that the sooner he ended things with Angelina, the sooner he could begin pursuing Hermione. However, that only left him with even sweatier palms. Standing up from the table, he looked between George and Angelina with the full intent to cross the room and ask his girlfriend to speak in private. But instead,

 “Alright, Freddie!” he announced loudly, catching George off guard. His twin looked up from the conversation he’d been having with Ginny and looked at him curiously. “I’ll see you in the common room. I have a few things I need to take care of first.”

 Before his brother had any time to question what he was doing, Fred flew from the Great Hall and past Angelina, avoiding looking in her direction as he turned the corner and headed towards an unknown direction. He had only gone a little way down the corridor when a voice called after him.

 “George! Wait up!”

 Fred stopped and turned to see Angelina running after him. What could Angelina possibly want with George, Fred thought for a moment as he watched the pretty witch approach him, her long braids bouncing off her shoulders. She looked nervous when she finally reached him. Her hands twisted together, and her eyes couldn’t quite meet his.

 “That’s me, George. What’s up?” Fred asked, wanting to kick himself. Coward. He was a coward.

 “Can I…can I talk to you for a second about…Fred?”

 “What about Fred?” Fred asked, feeling incredibly stuck in the lie he’d created.

 “Um, you know how I was at quidditch camp this summer?” asked Angelina, looking around them and grabbing Fred’s arm, pulling them over to an alcove away from prying ears and eyes. “And you know how Oliver was there?”

 “Yeah…” said Fred, feeling the blood drain from his body. His limbs had gone all cold and his fingers all numb and tingly.

 “Well, something might have happened.”

 “Something? What kind of something?”

 “Like I might have, I guess you could say I might have cheated?”

 “Might have or did? Those are two very different things Angelina,” said Fred, speaking now more as himself than as himself pretending to be George.

 “Okay, I did! I cheated!” admitted Angelina, bringing her hands up to cover her face in shame.

 “With Oliver Wood?!”

 “I know! I know! It just sort of…happened. Oli and I, we’re—”

 “Oh, so it’s Oli now?” asked Fred, feeling his temper bubble.

 “Look, I know you’re angry. I mean, Fred’s your brother after all.”

 Oh, right. She still thought he was George. Well this certainly threw a wrench in things. “Don’t you think this is something you should be telling him and not…me?” asked Fred, feeling slightly confused as he tried to wrap his head around processing the fact that his girlfriend had cheated on him with Oliver Wood, and that she had no idea she was speaking to him and not his brother.  

 “Yes, and I want to, but George. We’re friends too right? And you know him better than anyone. I was hoping you might know how to break this to him as easily as possible,” Angelina pleaded, looking imploringly into his eyes.

 Before Fred could even begin to figure out how to answer that, both his saving grace and downfall came all at once in the form of the real George Weasley.

 “You alright Freddie? What are you two up to then?” asked George, looking innocently between the two of them, tucked into the alcove.

 Angelina looked between George, the real George, and Fred who she now was beginning to realize was the one standing before her. Fred watched as the realization took over her and then how fear replaced confusion in her eyes before she muttered, “Well, fuck.”

 The conversation at that point had been a bit stale. Fred reckoned he might have gotten more answers out of her if George hadn’t come along and blown his act, but it was probably for the best. The more Fred thought about it, the less he really wanted to know. Still, some things stuck with him. What did Oliver Wood have that he didn’t?

 “I mean, it’s Wood!” cried Fred for the tenth time that night, laying face up, wrong way on his bed, head hanging off the end.

 “I know mate, I know,” responded George, continuing to unpack his and Fred’s trunk. A nicety Fred figured he was only giving considering his current predicament.

 “Maybe she’s bewitched or something,” suggested Lee kindly from across the room.

 “Yeah, maybe she’s under some kind of potion or spell. How else could a prat like that land Angelina?” added George.

 “I don’t know, Fred managed to land her just fine,” said Kenneth Towler, earning a round of glares from everyone in the room.

 “Shut it, Towler,” warned George, but he had gotten Fred’s attention now.

 Lifting his head till it was level with his body, Fred looked at the bookish boy with narrowed eyes. “What are you trying to say Kenneth?”

 Kenneth laughed, a short and breathy scoff, shaking his head from side to side. “Have you ever considered that maybe Wood’s just better than you?”

 The room was silent. Shocked at Towler’s words and more importantly in anticipation for how Fred would respond. Fred too was curious as to how he would react. Digging deep within himself he searched for anger, sadness, envy, but he found none of it. Instead, he laughed. A full body, side aching laugh that sent him toppling out of his bed and wiping at tears at the corner of his eyes. George and Lee joined in, followed shortly by Towler himself. When Fred finally calmed down enough to catch his breath he was on the floor, back leaning against the foot of his bed and one knee bent upwards to support his left arm.

 “Yeah, you might be right there Towler,” he sighed, feeling better than he had a few minutes previously.

 Despite his ability to laugh at the situation that night, Fred couldn’t help but mope the next day. Sure, he was planning on breaking up with Angelina as well, but it still hurts to get dumped and cheated on. Especially when the other man was your old quidditch captain. Not to mention, in a way he felt like it was slightly expected of him. In true Hogwarts fashion everyone knew the tale of him and Angelina and more importantly his mistaken identity. It had turned into a bit of a joke really and by dinner the next night people were saying things like “Just make sure it’s actually them and not their twin” when someone planned to meet with someone.

 It wasn’t particularly clever, Fred thought. Surely he and George could have come up with something much better if it had happened to someone else. But it hadn’t happened to someone else. It had happened to him, and he wasn’t about to throw fire to the flame by making a better joke that would surely stick around much longer. That just wouldn’t be fair to Angelina, who was already looking about as miserable as you could. It was clear she was embarrassed and guilty. Several points throughout the day Fred thought about putting her out of her misery and telling her not to feel bad. Maybe if he had been a better boyfriend she wouldn’t have been seduced away by another man. Maybe she could tell that his heart wasn’t truly in their relationship and therefore it was easier for her to be unfaithful. Still, he had been the one who’s heart wasn’t in it and he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down Hermione’s throat all summer. This was a new fact he had unwillingly learned from a few Gryffindor sixth year girls gossiping too loudly in the corridor before dinner.

 Once at dinner and knowing this fact, Fred longed for distraction. Glancing around he noticed that Hermione was noticeably absent. Of course she would be gone on the one day he needed the comfort of her ability to go on and on about whatever subject he asked her about.

 “Say, where’s Hermione?” Fred asked Ron and Harry as casually as he could.

 Harry shrugged but Ron answered, “Library maybe? That’s where she was last I saw her. You know how she gets.”

 “Maybe I should go get her? Make sure she doesn’t accidentally miss dinner,” Fred said, standing from the table.

 George gave him a knowing look. “Is that all?”

 “Dinner is the most important meal of the day Georgie,” said Fred, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

 “I thought that was breakfast,” said George back, smiling now.

 “Yeah, and I thought you weren’t a huge dickhead. I guess we’re both wrong.” And with that Fred spun on his heel and exited the Great Hall.

 Fred made it halfway to the library when he began to notice something very odd. The air had begun to thicken, a layer of fog soon surrounding him. Very shortly after his shoes started to make a wet splashing sound with every step. Looking down the corridor through the hazy fog, he realized that the floor was covered in water. A few steps further in and he realized that it was beginning to deepen. Something brushed his left hand and Fred jumped, spinning quickly, and pulling out his wand only to find a cattail. What was a cattail doing in a Hogwarts corridor?

 “Lumos,” he muttered, the tip of his wand glowing brilliantly and illuminating the corridor ahead of him. But he did not see a corridor. Or at least not the corridor he expected to see. No, instead the hall seemed to be transformed into what could only be described as a swamp with an expanse of still water covered by lily pads, cattails, and moss-covered logs. To top it all off, if he focused hard enough and held his breath, Fred could make out the croaks of toads in the distance.

 “What?” muttered Fred aloud in confusion.

 “Oh no, you weren’t supposed to see it until after dinner with everyone else,” whined a voice from behind him. Fred spun, his wand illuminating the face of Hermione Granger. She stood a few feet away, hands clasped behind her back as she frowned in his direction.

 “You did this?” he asked in shock.

 Hermione’s frown quickly morphed into a very proud smile and she nodded enthusiastically. “It’s a portable swamp. I’ve been working on it all summer. It was supposed to be yours and George’s Christmas present – you know, for the business.”

 “Why?” asked Fred, unable to really form full sentences from shock.

 “I heard about what happened with Angelina and I figured you might need some cheering up. I was hoping you’d get to see it for the first time when everyone else found it, but this is nice too. At least this way you won’t accidentally fall into it. A foot further and the water depth drops to about four feet,” she informed him casually, although the smug expression on her face told him she felt very proud of herself.

 Fred took a quick step away from the water and towards Hermione, not wanting to chance falling in. He stared at the witch before him, wide-eyed and speechless.

 “Do you like it?” Hermione asked, looking a bit nervous now as he had yet to make any real comment on her brilliant invention.

 Like it? He loved it! It was probably the nicest gift anyone had ever given him. How could he even begin to express how grateful he was? He was so happy he could kiss her. In fact…

 Fred leaned down, wrapping his arms tightly around Hermione and lifting her off of the ground as he claimed her mouth. The kiss was hard and overly enthusiastic at first, but in almost no time they were swept back into the memory of their first kiss all those months ago and they melted into each other like there had been no time between them. A single continuous kiss that went on for seasons. A kiss that Fred never wanted to end as he held Hermione tightly and snogged the living daylights out of her. Unfortunately, the kiss did have to end. A distant murmur of voices sounded from somewhere near by and they broke apart panting. Hermione’s lips were red and swollen and parted in a surprised expression when he carefully placed her down on the ground. They took a moment to just stare at each other, both surprised and delighted in what had just happened. But then the voices grew louder, and they knew they had to go. Fred held out his hand, raising his eyebrows expectantly. Hermione took it firmly, smiling bigger than he’d ever seen. Then they were off, running down the corridors and away from the scene of the crime. Through the halls of stone floors, ancient tapestries, and regal portraits they ran, laughing like school children. Which in a way, Fred supposed they still were.

Taglist:

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[s-horne]

In his defence, Tony was tired. He never slept well when Steve was away and Steve had been away for nearly a week. Sleep hadn’t been easy and Tony had been surviving on coffee and coffee alone.

With his ears still ringing from the loud music he’d had blasting in the workshop, he headed up to the kitchen slowly. He didn’t like to be in their house knowing that Steve wouldn’t be heading home at the end of the day and, with the mission as unsure as it was, no one had known when Steve would be finished.

Tony wasn’t expecting Steve to be home. He wasn’t expecting anyone to be home, which is why having an unexpected woman in his kitchen made him jump so high. Tony was a superhero. He had an iron suit of armour that he flew around the world to fight literal aliens. He shouldn’t have jumped so much at a single intruder.

Whilst a woman in his kitchen might have been low on someone else’s danger list, Tony could feel the last of his caffeine high wearing off. He also knew not to underestimate people; he’d made that dangerous mistake before.

They stood in silence for a long moment, the intruder standing at the other end of the kitchen, her palms flat on the counter between them. Tony blinked once, twice, keeping them closed for a second longer each time.

Every time he opened his eyes, she was still there.

“J?” he called out, keeping his wary gaze on the woman. “J, we have a guest.”

“Indeed, Sir.”

Tony only resisted rolling his eyes so that he didn’t have to take his gaze from his intruder. “And you didn’t alert me?”

The first thing that Tony had noticed was that her hair was long. It was well past her chest, a striking, dusty blonde that curled down to the very ends. The second thing was that she looked familiar, but Tony couldn’t place her.

It was no secret that Tony was attracted to women. Tony was pretty much attracted to every gender. But he was also an extremely happily married man and his eyes hadn’t strayed since he and Steve had gotten married. Since they’d gotten together. Even with that in mind, Tony couldn’t deny that the woman in his house was gorgeous.

It was in the eyes, he thought. The colour of them stood out even from so far away, bold and bright.

“I didn’t think it necessary, Sir,” JARVIS answered calmly, pulling Tony’s attention away from falling any deeper into the woman’s eyes, “given that Captain Rogers lives here.”

Tony’s eyes went wide. “Steve?”

The woman cracked a smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

*

“Okay.” Tony dropped his empty mug back onto the table and smacked his lips. “Right. Let’s talk.”

Steve, or the female version of Steve, chuckled. The noise was higher than it ever had been before, musical in a much different way than Tony was used to. Tony knew Steve’s laugh. He knew Steve’s laugh in every way. Knew what it sounded like in his ear, knew what it felt like in his chest.

“Okay,” Steve echoed and Tony tried his hardest not to flinch. As gorgeous as the voice was, it wasn’t Steve’s. “I’m fine, by the way.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Tony’s mouth. “Good. I couldn’t see any bandages, but that means nothing with you.”

Another laugh. “Not this time, darlin’. Promise. Just… well. This.”

Steve gestured down at his, her, body and Tony grimaced. Right. He needed more coffee.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

Steve jumped at Tony’s snapped answer. “What?”

“Bullshit. Steve always knows. He has an answer for everything.”

“I don’t,” Steve said softly, calmly. “I don’t have an answer for this.”

“My husband is in… I don’t know where he is, exactly, but he’s away. On a mission. He’s not in my kitchen and he’s not a woman.”

“Tony. Please, sweetheart. You know it’s me.” Steve reached a hand out and Tony’s gaze fell at the band around her finger. It was only a simple one, but Tony would recognise it anywhere. He let out a weird sort of snorted laugh when it clicked. It was a foreign noise, one that sounded like it had come from a different part of the room. From a different person, even. It wasn’t him… just like Steve wasn’t Steve.

“Nice ring.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, a smile clear in her voice. “Thanks. I kinda love it.”

They fell quiet again. Without looking up to Steve’s face, Tony called to JARVIS. “You ran everything, J?”

“I did, Sir. All reports sent to your StarkPad. I can conclude without a doubt that this is, in fact, Captain Rogers.”

The fact that the woman wasn’t fighting Tony or trying to protest her version of events added to the evidence in her favour and tipped the scales towards the fact that she was telling the truth. Steve knew that Tony couldn’t just be told something and instantly believe it. He needed facts and figures, needed cold, hard evidence in his hands.

He flicked through the reports that JARVIS had exported quickly, his eyes flickering up to the woman sitting opposite him every so often. Steve was sitting there calmly, hands curled around a mug of steaming coffee, ring clinking against the ceramic as Steve tapped absentmindedly.

“It’s you, isn’t it? Like, really you.”

Steve met Tony’s gaze. “Yeah. It really is.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and Tony couldn’t help but follow the movement. Steve’s lips had never been thin, but, as a woman, they were thicker than ever. A deep, dark pink that Tony wanted to bite at, make them a bold red instead. “We were close to finishing the mission when something went awry. Someone got wind of what we were doing or tipped off another group, I don’t know.”

Her hand reached up to sweep through her hair, but Steve had obviously forgotten about its new length and her fingers got tangled in the thick curls. The betrayed look on her face made Tony let out a startled laugh.

“Ouch. Well, anyway, someone must have– shit.” Steve tugged her hand again but all it served to do was yank on the roots.

Rising from his chair, Tony rounded the table wordlessly and lifted his hands to Steve’s hair. It felt the same, his mind noticed as he worked the strands quickly to untangle the curls and free Steve’s hand. When it was hanging loose down Steve’s back again, he stepped away and rooted quickly through a few of the drawers under the counter.

“Thank you,” Steve said, shaking her arm to dislodge a few casualties in the form of pulled-out hairs. “So, anyway, we think one of the groups that were told about our mission dabble in magic, or some form of it.”

Tony hummed before his fingers closed around what he’d been looking for and he let out a triumphant cry. “So you got hit by magic? A curse, maybe?”

“Pretty sure. None of us can be exactly certain because we didn’t see anything, but we didn’t eat or drink anything that wasn’t our SHIELD rations or made by one of us.” Steve’s speech ended in a soft gasp as Tony started working his hand through her thick curls.

“Sounds like it, then,” Tony said, fingers working quickly to plait Steve’s hair. “You know, your hair’s long. Like really long.”

Steve turned her head to lift an eyebrow in a perfect arch. Tony’s eyes were drawn to it, the reprimand for moving dying on the tip of his tongue. It was just another reminder that everything about Steve had changed. Even her eyebrows were thinner, a completely different shape to what they had been before. Tony swallowed and gently turned her head again so that she was looking away from him.

“Shut up,” he said, catching a few curls that had tried to break free, “it’s a big change. I’m not used to you having so much hair for me to grab.” He stopped himself as he realised how that sounded and did his best to push the dirty images that shot into his mind away. It was so not the time for that. “So, if you trust everyone on your team –”

“Which I do,” Steve cut in quickly.

“–then yes, it sounds as though it was magic. I don’t know of a serum or even a lab that’s working on this sort of thing, so it can’t be scientific. Who else knows what happened?”

“Probably most of SHIELD by now.” Steve sighed and her fingers danced around the rim of her discarded mug. “We had to abandon the mission, obviously, so we had to send in a report. I snuck away to come here, but they’ll need me soon. I’ll be summoned to a lab, I’m sure.”

Tony took a moment to collect his thoughts. He could admit that he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of his husband (wife?) being carted away like a circus attraction and poked and prodded by all manner of scientists.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” he said. Pulling one hair band off his wrist, Tony tied the end of the plait before twisting it up into a bun. Or, at the very least, into a vague bun shape. He had done his best with the two, stretched-out hair bands that he’d remembered he’d had shoved in a drawer. He was often finding them after late-night business meals with Pepper, the ones where they cracked open a few bottles of wine to pour over new contracts. More often than not, they ended up with YouTube tutorials playing and Pepper’s hair tied in all manner of styles. “No partner of mine is going to SHEILD’s labs.”

With a hand raised to feel her new hair-do, Steve spun on her chair and treated Tony to a soft smile. “Gonna trap me in your own lab, huh, darlin’?”

“You know me.” God, she was beautiful. Her face was a lot softer than Steve’s was as a male, her cheekbones a little higher and a little less pronounced. Though Tony tried not to feel guilty for noticing her looks, he couldn’t quite push away the feeling that it wasn’t Steve.

“I do.” Steve reached out and took Tony’s hand, interlocking their fingers. For once, her hand was smaller than Tony’s. The callouses were there the same as ever, as were Steve’s nails bitten right down to the fingertips. They’d been working on that habit, but Tony didn’t think Steve would ever break it.

Tony wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel. This was still his partner, but it wasn’t at the same time. Who knew how long it was going to last? Would he ever have his Steve back or would he be with the female version forever?

It was a lot to process and far too much to deal with on the amount of sleep he’d been surviving on. He wanted a nap.

Pulling his hand from Steve’s, Tony turned to the counter. “Right. Let’s move this somewhere a little more comfortable.”

 *

 Steve’s body looked so much smaller when she was curled up in her favourite armchair.

The night before he’d left for his mission, Steve had sat in that same chair as he’d laughed along with some reruns of an old sitcom they’d found on an obscure channel after flicking through a few hundred. Neither of them had paid all that much attention to it after Tony had crawled into his lap and connected their lips in a deep kiss.

Now, with her legs folded under her body and covered by a thick blanket, Steve seemed to be swallowed by the huge cushions. Still as fearless and as strong as ever, Tony could tell that by one glance, but smaller.

“Do I call you… Steve?” Tony squinted, head titled to his side as he looked at his partner. “No. Stephanie? Steph?”

He was rewarded with raised eyebrows and complete derision over Steve’s face. “That’s your main concern?”

“No! Of course it’s not,” Tony said before pausing. “Yes, actually. Maybe it is. I don’t know. Christ, you can’t just drop this on me. It’s a lot to process.”

He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. It was so much to get his head around. Too much.

“I think I’ll stick with Steve,” he said eventually and he got a soft laugh in return.

“Okay. Works for me.”

“Even now? You don’t mind it?”

“Course not, sweetheart. It’s my name, isn’t it? It’s what you’ve always called me. I’m never going to not want to hear that from you.”

That helped a little, but Tony still felt like he was on uneven ground. Who knew how long it was going to last? Would Steve ever change back? It wasn’t the person that Tony had married, physically at least.

Though it wasn’t exactly unnerving, it wasn’t normal. Well, it wasn’t even not normal. That wasn’t what Tony meant.

Actually, he had no clue what he meant. All he knew for certain was that his head hurt and thinking about the situation so deeply wasn’t helping.

“Can we go to bed yet?”

The concern was clear in Steve’s voice when she spoke. “Are you okay?”

Tony sighed, letting his head drop forward again. “Fine. Of course I’m fine. I’m always fine.”

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

Of course Steve knew that. It seemed that whatever body Steve was in, Steve still knew Tony inside and out.

“You have no proof of that. But no, I haven’t been.” Tony grinned at Steve’s sigh, but his head was still pounding. “I’m going to bed.”

“Wow,” Steve said softly, brow furrowed and eyes staring straight at Tony. Her eyes were still the same. They still sparkled like they always had, still looked at Tony with the same mix of fondness and clear exasperation. “The world really has been knocked off its axis, if you’re willingly heading to bed.”

Tony huffed a weak laugh. Sleep sounded good to him. Sleeping for a week and waking up with Steve still away on his mission sounded even better.

Standing from his chair, he hid a yawn in the inside of his elbow and headed for the door.

Just before he crossed the threshold, he turned and held out a hand. “Coming?”

 *

 “Tony?”

Tony rolled onto his side to see Steve standing at the edge of the bed, hovering a little anxiously. She was wearing an old sweatshirt of Tony’s, which hung down past her hips and was falling off one shoulder. For the first time in their relationship, it seemed as though Tony’s clothes would actually fit Steve. That thought alone made something squirm in Tony’s stomach, a spark suddenly lit that threatened to ignite into a raging fire.

“Hi,” he said stupidly, voice a little breathier than he’d have liked. “Coming in?”

“You’re on my side.”

Tony snorted. Right. Same old Steve. “Sorry.” He shuffled backwards until there was enough room for Steve to crawl under the sheets. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, the spit glistening in the low glow from the beside lamp. “Just thinking about what to do next.”

Tony reached out and rested his hand across Steve’s eyes. “Sleep. Sleep is next.”

“We need to find out what–”

“We can do that tomorrow,” Tony said, words slurring a little as Steve playfully batted his hand away. Sleep was catching up to Tony, washing over him so easily with Steve back in their bed. It was just one more point in Steve’s favour; Tony felt so peaceful with her there, Steve’s mere presence enough to let Tony relax enough to sleep. “What we need to do now is sleep.”

There was a beat of silence. “You’re okay with me being in here?”

Tony forced himself to open his eyes again, battling to stay awake long enough to assemble his thoughts.

They were lying close in the bed, close enough to touch. When Steve rolled onto her side at the extended silence, Tony could feel her breath on his nose.

“I love you,” Tony said, the words rolling off his tongue as easily as they had on their wedding day. “I loved you in pictures from before the war. I’ve loved you as both Steve Rogers and Captain America, and I love you now. It’s you and me. No matter what.”

Steve smiled softly and they fell into a comfortable silence, Steve finally relaxing into the pillow. Just as Steve’s eyes closed and her breathing evened out, a thought struck Tony.

“Oh, God,” he said in horror, “I’m going to have to top again.”

***

(prompt from the Put on the Suit discord)

[the-enamorando-deity]

Can I get one more night with Natasha Romanoff please? Smut, angst, a bit of fluff? just go nuts with it 😂 Love you bro❤

never give me that many options loz 🙃 you literally asked for this

Warning for angst smut and a dash of fluff

Natasha Romanoff x Reader, 18+ only

One More Night

You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war

Being a recruit for SHIELD was hard enough, but being targeted by Fury’s Right Hand at every training was like torture. She pushed you harder and hated you more than everyone else.

You and I go rough, we keep throwing things and slamming the door

You only had one training session a week when Natasha was busy, leaving you free to do your best without being watched and insulted. Then, she strode in with a coffee and her partner, whispering to each other and pointing at you in the ring. Overcome with an intense carnal anger, you struck your opponent with more force than you knew you contained in your whole body.

You and I get so damn dysfunctional, we start keeping score

They shut up, and you smirked at them. You didn’t even hear the instructor call for a time out, you were climbing down from the ring and heading to your water bottle. All she did was watch, her partner horrorstruck.

You and I get sick, yeah I know that we can't do this no more

The session was over and you headed for the doors, knowing she was hot on your heels. You turned a corner and saw her come for you, just as she shoved you against the wall. A lump formed in your throat as you readied to fight her in the hallway.

But baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you

And yet, she didn’t yell or knee you, she didn’t attack you in any way, it was you who attacked first. You kissed her so quick and hard you thought she lost her balance, but she kicked your leg out from under you, and the pair of you hit the ground, Natasha grinning down at you.

Yeah I stopped using my head, using my head, let it all go

You yanked her back down by the collar of her shirt, flipping yourself over and taking her with you. You pulled away from her lips to smirk down at her, pressing your hips into hers as you kissed her again.

Got you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo

You don’t know how there wasn’t anyone in the corridor, but it wasn’t on your mind at the moment. Her hands worked like magic, slipping up your tank top and feeling their way under your sports bra. God, her hands were warm.

And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid crawling back to you

A dull beeping broke into your consciousness, currently corrupted by the intoxicating aroma of Natasha, and everything she wanted to do to you. She slipped one hand away from squeezing your breast, moving her lips away from yours to read the message on her comm. You repurposed your lips to her neck, sucking gently as her heart rate soared. You grinned, knowing why.

So I cross my heart and I hope to die

She tried to climb out from under you, but you had the upper hand both figuratively and literally. Natasha panted with the effort, and you finally let her up off the floor. You dusted yourself off as she buttoned her shirt back up, her makeup not even close to covering the red cheeks beneath.

That I'll only stay with you one more night

She looked you up and down, straightening her clothes before turning away.

‘Not even a thank you?’

Natasha ignored your plea as she headed off towards Fury’s office. ‘You’re lucky I don’t reprimand you, recruit.’

‘Depends what you mean by reprimand,’ you call after her, tilting your head, feeling the passionate exchange still coursing through your veins.

She turned to shoot you a look, one that usually chilled you until you were sure you were frozen solid, but not this time. And all this time, you were convinced you hate her. You still might, but you figured it was best for you both if you tested that theory.

And I know I said it a million times

But I'll only stay with you one more night

A week later, everything had gone back to normal, except for Natasha being on your ass like skinny jeans. You waited in hope, but it came to your last session of the week, the one she never attended.

You heard the door open, it distracted you enough that you got clocked in the head by your opponent. You heard her snort of derision, and it fired you up. You took your opponent down in two moves, something that was deemed impossible by all those who had faced him before.

Try to tell you no but my body keeps on telling you yes

You were called into Natasha’s office after your session, and seeing her on that big office chair gave you a strange feeling. Since your last encounter, you had convinced yourself it was a mutual hatred, but the air grew warm, and before you knew it, you were on your back on her desk.

Try to tell you stop but your lipstick got me so out of breath

You wanted nothing more than to stop, but God, she had you then and there, and no one to interrupt. You tried to say something, anything, to get you out of her office and out of her grip, but her lipstick covered your lips and neck, and slowly the rest of you, and you couldn’t help yourself.

I'll be waking up in the morning probably hating myself

You told yourself every day to stop, that you wouldn’t end back up kissing her again, that you hated her more than anything. Maybe you did, but you weren’t giving her up, she was too sweet, to sour, too bad for you.

And I'll be waking up feeling satisfied but guilty as hell

After a few weeks, you had kissed in most hallways, done other things in most closets and her office, but you had never seen her apartment. That was how you knew she didn’t want you, she just wanted the passion, whether it was in hatred or love didn’t matter.

But baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you

You couldn’t stop, why would you want to? She made you work harder, feel better, but any time you weren’t alone, she was so cold.

And I stopped using my head, using my head, let it all go

You had to stop thinking about it, you never talked, it was skin to skin and nothing else between you. You hated her more like that, not talking or discussing anything ever, the occasional comment about places you forgot to clean off her lipstick.

Got you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo

Sometimes you didn’t want to clean it off, you wanted everyone to know what you two had been doing, but then it would be over. No more hiding, the passion would disappear, and she would go back to berating you publicly.

And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid crawling back to you

She left your last session early, maybe setting something up for you as a surprise like last month. You finished up your session like normal, but instead of heading left to her office, you headed to the elevator and went home.

So I cross my heart and I hope to die

You had to get her out of your head, and stop her from getting into yours. She was so bad for you, she had to be, but you would risk being poisoned just to touch her.

That I'll only stay with you one more night

You had told yourself only one more night so many times, it always turned into one more, but you couldn’t give in this time. You arrived at your apartment to find your door unlocked.

And I know I said it a million times

But I'll only stay with you one more night

You could feel her presence in there, the splinters from her broken desk probably still under the skin of your back, tingling and reminding you of how you both laughed.

Yeah baby give me one more night

Yeah baby give me one more night

Yeah baby give me one more night

Could you really give in again? You had the upper hand, you could run, stay anywhere else, not give in to her.

Baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you

You were already inside your apartment when you thought of running, already in your bed, between the sheets, next to her, inside her.

And I stopped using my head, using my head, let it all go

She wasn’t wearing lipstick the first time you kissed, she wasn’t wearing it now. She hadn’t planned to kiss you before, but she did now, and no one could see it, so why?

Got you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo

As her body trembled, her back arched, a soft moan escaped her lips, you knew why. She didn’t want you to hide, she wanted everyone to know you were hers, and hers alone.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

So I cross my heart and I hope to die

A bed was certainly a lot more comfortable than her desk, and even more so than the floor, but you still didn’t know if you could do it again. You couldn’t keep not talking about it.

That I'll only stay with you one more night

She whispered into your ear as she started grinding her hips into you, running her fingers down your back and holding onto your thighs, anything to hold her steady.

And I know I said it a million times

But I'll only stay with you one more night

You thought the only way there could be that much passion was hate or love, and all this time, you were convinced it was hate.

(Yeah baby give me one more night)

So I cross my heart and I hope to die

There couldn’t be another explanation, the way she treated you made your cheeks warm and your stomach churn, you saw her and felt red, you felt her hands as they positioned you to take better hits, fire better shots.

That I'll only stay with you one more night

Oh, you realised, far too late. It was never hate that drew you to each other, it wasn’t just the blank passion of firing each other up.

And I know I said it a million times

But I'll only stay with you one more night

You loved Natasha Romanoff, and that could not be helped.

@marvelfansince08love @mymarvelwomen @imnotasuperhero

[justanotherlifeff]

hey could you do a todoroki x reader who can control water and gets hurt during training? possibly how he’d react or if he’d take care of them? i love your blog!

Careful

You were one of the strongest students in class 1A. With your quirk that allowed you to control water, you were almost undefeatable. However, every powerful quirk came with a price and in your case, it was that you would suffer from extreme dehydration when you overused your quirk. However, this rarely ever happened since you were very careful when it came to using your quirk and you knew how much you could push yourself. That was until a certain gremlin called you an useless dumbfuck during battle training. In his defence, Bakugou always wanted everyone to fight him with their full potential thanks to his superiority complex. In your defence, you were in a rather bad mood that day and you let him get to you.

To know how you were in recovery girl's office with your boyfriend throwing passive aggressive comments on a guilty yet angry looking gremlin, let's start from the begining. You were pissed at Todoroki, your boyfriend. After all, how can someone be so damned oblivious? How the actual fuck did he not understand that the Camie bitch had a thing for him? To say that you were this close to punching Camie on the face during your remedial classes would be an understatement. Then again, what else can anyone expect from THE Bakugou Katsuki's best friend? Both you and Bakugou were hotheads and somehow became really good friends and no one really understood how you and Todoroki started dating but they had to admit that the two of you made a great couple (except Bakugou because he dislikes Todoroki with a burning passion). Anyway, what infuriated you was when you demanded Shouto to stay away from Camie, he actually was completely oblivious as to why. When you explained your reasoning, he told you that he had no idea what you were talking about. Ofcourse, he didn't have any idea that he was being flirted with. Ofcourse he didn't notice that both you and Bakugou made a pact on being extremely rude to Camie (cause even if Bakugou dislikes Todoroki, he's still your wingman and he will definitely not give up on the chance to be rude to someone simply because that's fun).

Hence, you were distracted during battle training. You were teamed up with none other than your best friend and he was not having it. Did he care about the fact that you had a fight with Todoroki this morning about everything? No, ofcourse he didn't care. You were supposed to know better than letting Todoroki's obliviousness get to you. How dare you insult him by not fighting at your full potential? Atleast, that was Bakugou's thought process when he shouted at you and called you an useless dumbfuck when you were fighting him. At that moment, you pretty much lost it. In your defence, you were already mad at Todoroki for being an oblivious idiot and now you were mad at Bakugou for being an insufferable asshole. Which is why, Bakugou was suddenly knocked out by a HUGE wave of water and when the water was gone, you were on the floor, passed out.

Todoroki on the other hand was confused beyond measure. Did he just have a fight with you? Why did you look the way Bakugou does when he's being an ass? Were you made at him? Did Camie really flirt with him? Is calling him handsome considered as flirting? Let's just say todoroki.exe had stopped working. Wait a second, he actually said that out loud to you. That you look like Bakugou when he's being an ass. Technically, he called you an ass? You definitely are mad at him right? You did call him an oblivious idiot... These were things that were going on in Todoroki's head when he was watching you fight Bakugou. You were definitely distracted. You trained way too many times with Todoroki and he knew exactly when you were giving full concentration in fights. Suddenly, Bakugou shouted something to you and you made the biggest wave of water he had ever seen you make. He knew you were overexerting yourself. While Bakugou was knocked away, watching you fall down on the floor made Shouto feel like the ground moved from underneath his feet. Without giving it a second thought. He rushed to you, picked you up and took you to Recovery girl's office with Aizawa sensei.

You woke up to your best friend shouting at your boyfriend. "It's all your fucking fault that (Y/N) is in this shape! Don't you fucking put the blame on me! How the fuck can you be so damned oblivious that the stupid bitch from remedial class flirts with you and you fucking let her even when you have a damned girlfriend hah? I don't fucking understand why (Y/N) even dates you" Bakugou barked at Shouto. "Yet she comes back to me every night and not you." Shouto told Bakugou nonchalantly. "What the fuck?! What's wrong with you?! (Y/N) and I are just friends! The fuck are you getting at half and half bastard!" Bakugou barked in disbelief. "WOULD YOU TWO SHUT THE FUCK UP?!" you decided to break the fight before you looked at Shouto angrily and told him, "You! Apologise to blasty for making that stupid ass comment!". "Sorry..." Shouto muttered, still glaring at Bakugou as Bakugou gave him an egoistic smirk. "You're not off the hook too Blasty. You don't fucking call me useless and get away with it. Apologise." you reprimanded Bakugou. "Hah? Like hell I will! Go tell icyhot to apologise! It's his fucking fault that you were half assing shit during training!" Bakugou barked at you. "Says the one who provoked (Y/N) into getting herself dehydrated." Shouto commented in a stoic expression. "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU BASTARD!" Bakugou barked but you followed him soon enough. "QUIT IT YOU DAMN IDIOTS!" you shouted before looking at Bakugou and saying, "Dude, I need to have a talk with Shouto so get outta here since you can’t talk without shouting.". "Tch fucking shit for brains, you ain't getting me to make you ramen anymore." Bakugou grumbled before leaving the room. "You think he'll make you ramen again?" Shouto asked, looking at door. "Eh he'll make 'extra ramen' accidentally and throw that at me anyway." you shrugged. You knew Bakugou too well. "Isn't that flirting too?" Shouto asked you with a frown. "No, Shouto. That's called being a good friend. Calling someone hot on their face and fangirling over them is called flirting. Did you ever see me call that weirdo hot? Or did you ever see me try to get all over him like Camie did with you? You really gotta understand that stuff you know..." you sighed. "I'm sorry... I'll try to avoid her. You know that I love you right? No other girl could possibly make that change." Shouto told you earnestly, holding your hand. After a comfortable amount of silence, he asked, "(Y/N), do you feel okay? I'm sorry you had to shout at us when you should be resting...". "It's fine, Shouto. I'm alright. Just a bit tired." you answered with a smile. "Don't ever do that again (Y/N). Do you know how I felt when you passed out? I was terrified. Don't risk your health even if someone taunts you. I know you hate being taunted but please just keep yourself in control. I feel bad when you are in any sort of pain..." Shouto muttered. "Yeah I know. I went too far today. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." you answered, the smile not dropping from your face. To that, Shouto placed a small kiss on your lips. Maybe passing out wasn’t too bad after all given that everything worked out the way you wanted it to...

[Author's note: Uhhhhh I kinda got carried away with it?🥺🥺]

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption_Error: “Out of Reach”

Summary: Mr. Robot protects Elliot when Y/N pushes too hard; she’s left to wonder if she’ll ever see the man she fell in love with again.  

A/N: My tech lingo is gibberish—don’t @ me, tech peeps, unless you want to rewrite my dialogue because that would be super cool 🙃

Decryption_Error: All Chapters

Word Count: 4000

Tags: @sherlollydramoine​ @rami-malek-trash​​ @teamwolf2411 @limabein​ @txmel​​ @alottanothing​ @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging​ @moon-stars-soul​​ @free-rami​ @ramimedley​ @hopplessdreamer​ @sweet-charmie @polarcrystall​​ @hah0106​ @clumsybookworm18​

Warnings: ANGST, shouting, aggressive posturing and grabbing/hurting (let me know if I need to warn for anything else)

It was the second Monday of March which meant it was time for a monthly status report. This was one of the hundreds of meetings I attended in which I usually had a razor-sharp focus because this was the part of my job I missed. I missed having a direct role in operations, subverting attempts at data breaches, and working on scripts that would improve day to day operations.

I looked around the table and my eyes settled on the new Senior Manager, although I guess I couldn’t call him “new” anymore. Tim Millner-Brown had already weathered three anonymous hacks and managed to keep everything (and everyone) calm.

Since Dad retired in January and this was now considered a transitory time, it was all the more important operations ran without hiccups. I fixed my gaze on JaLeah, then switched to Ali as he began to speak about a new script to assess WiFi network vulnerabilities. As I listened, my mind flashed back to the meeting Colin and I had with Ali to reprimand him and a wave of disgust prickled through me. I swore to Elliot that his attackers would pay, but here was Ali, confident and happy, leading Elliot’s team.

Tim interrupted Ali, asking, “Why can’t a two-way handshake be enough? Less connections, less chance for an attack?”

Ali was quiet before he said, “Let’s get Alderson to explain. He’s leading the work on the new script.”

Jayne returned after a few moments, Elliot following her like he had been summoned into the principal’s office. He scanned the room, his eyes lingering on mine until I gave him a quick smile, reassuring him he was here to do what he did best.

Tim redirected his question to Elliot who thought for a moment before clarifying, “A three-way handshake is necessary to avoid half-connections. If one ISN changes their mind and doesn’t want to connect, the server doesn’t see the re-sent SYN so it thinks the ISN got its ACK and the connection was established, but it wasn’t—it won’t ever be closed. If we can cut the time it takes for the GTK to associate with a device, we can cut the time a hacker has to gain an access point.

“Without compromising data flow,” he added.

This was not the same Elliot who was ready to quit a year ago rather than give a presentation. I felt a swell of pride at how far he had come, the confidence he had gained. All he needed was someone to believe in him and to push him. And along with my swell of pride came a surge of anger as an image of Elliot, blacked out and bleeding in a broken server room, flashed through my mind.

“Tim, work with Elliot to determine how much time he needs, then work with Ali to find out how much that time will cost. I want a report by Wednesday. And if everything adds up, you can start on Friday—or should we make it Monday so as not to infringe on anyone’s weekend plans?”

My eyes never wavered from Ali’s face as I watched it pale, but from my peripheral vision, I could also see Elliot’s eyes widen. Then, Miles’ voice echoed through my mind on the day I was forced to appoint Ali as Colin’s replacement: You bet the house, and you lost.

But as long as I was in charge, Ali would know I’d never forget what he did. And in that moment, I wanted Elliot to know I hadn’t forgotten either. Never mind that the secret I was keeping from him was burning a hole in my stomach, pushing me to feel even more protective of Elliot than usual.

JaLeah smirked, but she played the placater better than anyone. She peppered Elliot with questions, then Tim dismissed everyone so he and I could go over his analytics.

“Thanks, Elliot,” I said, as he left the room, his lips turning up in a soft smile.

“The two of you are dating?” Tim asked as soon as the door shut.

I raised my eyebrow and turned to look at him.

“Yes?”

“So, it’s not against company policy to date someone you supervise?”

“Elliot and I were in a sort of unique circumstance. We signed a contract with HR, but I ended up being promoted almost immediately afterward, which eliminated the direct conflict.”

“Hmm,” Tim said as his fingers tapped on the folder in front of him.

“Why?”

“JaLeah is . . . well, she’s—”

“Say no more. Obviously I’m a proponent of shooting your shot in the workplace, but Elliot and I were sure to be super transparent about it. And that’s all the advice you’re getting from me. If you want to know if she’s interested, ask her.”

Tim smiled, and I felt like I saw him as a person for the first time instead of just as my replacement.

“And I would be happy to take over her evaluations in the event she is interested.”

Tim’s smile grew a bit wider and he thanked me, twice, before we dove into the data.

It was close to lunch time when Tim and I finished, so I sought out Elliot to see if he wanted to go out. As I walked toward his workstation, he was oblivious to the world, his eyes glued to the screen and his shoulders almost perfectly still despite the furious pace at which I knew his fingers were moving over the keyboard. A pang of guilt resurfaced for the thousandth time this month as I reminded myself I needed to make a decision about what I discovered.

Since I found the grand jury’s testimony, I had been conducting some “research” on my own. All 23 members of the jury, even the one who had voted not to indict, had been receiving the same amount of money for the past 13 years: 2,500 a month.

All 23 people claimed the money on their tax returns, but in 23 different ways—gas leases, oil leases, rental properties, gifts, renting their parking spot in the city, tips, bonuses, and on and on. It was clear someone had met with them and told them exactly how to keep this money under the radar. And if someone met with them to lay out the process for receiving money, then there had to be evidence of that meeting—or that person.

A part of me was dying to share this with Elliot, but another part of me was adamantly against it, afraid of what I would unleash within him if he was given the opportunity to pursue vengeance. My mind kept returning to who he was on the night of Dad’s party and wondering if I could trust that part of Elliot, that part who seemed ready to do something a lot more rash than scratch an itch or even just file a lawsuit. There was a part of Elliot, hell, there were still so many parts of him I didn’t know, didn’t understand.

What I did understand was that every time I looked at him, I felt guilty. And when Elliot’s eyes glanced up and noticed me, he stopped and smiled, a sweet, open grin and Miles’ words flickered through my mind again.

You bet the house, and you lost.

* * * * *

Time has a funny way of making decisions for you, especially if you’ve been riddled by indecision. Once enough time has passed, the control is going to be taken from you—the decision will be made for you, rather than by you.

By the end of March, something uncomfortable had settled between Elliot and me. He was growing distant, closed off, and I stopped working to maintain our open line of communication. The more guilty I felt about hiding the grand jury transcript, the less I wanted to see him. I knew I needed to tell him, but if I had found out about the juror payoffs, Elliot would be able to, and in half the time.

And everything could lead back to my father.

And something deep inside of me knew he knew—I didn’t know the how or the what, but I was certain he knew I was hiding something.

It was after 10:00 pm on a Thursday night when I got home from a dinner party, a business meeting disguised as a social gathering, something I never invited Elliot to anymore after his vitriolic rant.

I was more than surprised to find Elliot sitting on the floor near the balcony, the door open as a wet March wind blew in, smoking a cigarette as nearly half a pack of butts were already stubbed out in the ashtray I knew had been empty.

He was drinking a beer and he was clad entirely in black, topped off with his well-worn hoody, which was something I hadn’t seen on him in a long time.

His hood was up, probably to fight off the chill of the wind, but I wasn’t sure if the explanation was so simple tonight.

“Hey,” I said softly as I pushed the door shut behind me. “I told you I had a thing tonight, didn’t I?”

Elliot nodded yes, as his lips wrapped around the end of his cigarette.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, dread settling over me like a weighted blanket as I watched him take a long drag, the cherry flaring red in the dim light of my apartment.

I slid out of my coat and hung it up on the rack before reaching down to unzip my boots. As I kicked them off, I waited for Elliot to answer. I was tired and wanted nothing more than to change out of my clothes, maybe shower away the day, and go to bed.

Except the smarter part of me knew that wasn’t going to happen and filled me with a sudden desire to just  get this over with—just blow the lid off the box and let the scraps settle so we could get back to our normal.

But that would require fixing Elliot’s biggest flaw: his inability to move forward because he never really addressed the root of his problems.

I watched as he stubbed out his cigarette and tipped his beer back, finishing the last swallow.

I sighed in frustration.

“Either tell me what this,” I said as I gesticulated to and around him, “is all about or let me go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Where were you?”

I blinked, irritated because we just went over this.

“I told you where I was—at a dinner party. You know, those things I don’t invite you to anymore because you hate everyone?”

Elliot stood, reaching back to slide the balcony door shut. He didn’t take his hood down as he walked to the kitchen sink and rinsed out his bottle before setting it on the counter next to the others.

Chalk that up to something else out of character; Elliot never drank alone.

“You’re lying to me,” he said quietly, his back still turned.

“About the dinner?”

“No. Maybe? How am I supposed to know when you’re the one who’s always lying?”

“I can’t do this,” I said, running a shaky hand through my hair.

“You can’t do this?” Elliot said, his voice rising as he turned around. “You’re the one keeping things from me!” he shouted, his eyebrows raised, making his eyes look impossibly huge, and the cords on his neck standing out as he pointed his finger at me.

“How did you find out?” I asked quietly as I leaned on the counter, looking at the swirled pattern within the granite, unable to meet what was surely an intense gaze.

“I’ve been waiting, Y/N. Waiting for over a fucking month, wondering why you wanted to hide it from me. Wondering what else you decided not to tell me. Wondering if everything you have told me is just a way for you to manipulate me—”

My head shot up, my eyes finding his instantly as I asked, “Why would I want to manipulate you?”

Elliot didn’t answer; his eyes were dark, a stormy grey as they swirled with clouds of emotion. He felt betrayed, and I watched as his eyes settled on my tote that was sitting on the kitchen stool.

“You saw the transcript,” I said with a sad sigh. “You weren’t supposed to find out like that.”

I lowered my gaze back to the granite of the countertop, a strange relief pushing off that weighted blanket of dread. No more hiding. No more agonizing over whether to tell him.

The silence that followed my realization was dreadful, stretching out until my ears rang and my eyes blurred as I stared at the countertop.

“I can’t trust you anymore,” Elliot said, his voice cracking.

But that was the wrong thing to say. My nostrils flared as a thick, white-hot anger rose up in my throat like bile.

“You! You can’t trust me because I withheld something from you? Once! When have I ever done anything like this in our entire relationship?” I questioned, my voice bordering on shrill, so unlike my usual tone that it didn’t even sound like my own voice.

“You’ve broken promises.”

“When?”

“After the server room. You promised me ‘the fucking assholes’ would lose their jobs. And now one of them is my supervisor.”

I stared at Elliot dumbly until he dropped his gaze, leaning back onto the counter.

“We talked about that,” I said, my tone a few octaves closer to normal. “I offered to refuse to promote Ali. You told me things like that happen—it’s a part of the way to ‘enact change.’ You told me not to fight back against his promotion.”

“You promised,” Elliot mumbled, his knuckles growing white as his grip tightened on the countertop.

Once again, Elliot said the wrong thing. If this was all he could come up with, I was livid. Every thing he did that I had to work to let go of, to not make a big deal over, every hurt I had to swallow because I loved him, came rushing out.

“And how many promises have you broken to me? Fuck, Elliot! Not even promises. How many times have you bailed on me? Hacked me? Hurt me?

“No,” I scoffed, “You never meant to do it, but you fucking did do it. I have been so patient with you—”

“I’m not a child!” Elliot interrupted through clenched teeth.

“You’re pissed at me for something you told me to do!”

“I told you to withhold information about my dad’s death?”

“I needed time, Elliot. I needed to analyze the risk—”

“I’m not a piece of fucking data, Y/N! You can’t—” Elliot paused as he pushed off the counter and stepped toward the island. “You can’t analyze me. You can’t predict my next move or maybe that’s the problem? Maybe that’s what you’ve been doing all along? Manipulating me because you think you’re smarter than me.”

“That is not what I meant,” I said, my brows drawn and my mouth closing into a frown.

“You begged me to trust you and I knew—I fucking knew someone like you couldn’t be trusted!”

“Someone like me?” I shouted back, pushing away from the counter and marching around the island to stand in front of him. “Someone like ME? Surely you’re not going to throw Dad’s money in my face again. You’re starting to sound like a broken fucking record!

“You know what—no,” I said, shaking my head and turning away from him pacing to the balcony door before turning around and slowly walking back toward Elliot. “You don’t get to do this and get away with it this time. I can’t walk on eggshells while you get to be shitty to me whenever you have a bad time. Don’t you want to know why you’re like this? Don’t you want to know why you’re so paranoid, why you push away people who fucking love you? Don’t you want to know why you don’t trust anyone?”

I was a breath away from him as he began to withdrawal further and further into himself. And because I was watching his face, my eyes desperately pleading with him to see reason, I saw the change—Elliot looked away, seemingly in exasperation, and his eyelids fluttered so subtly that if I had blinked at that very moment, I would have missed it.  

When he looked back at me, Elliot Alderson was gone; now, I was met with the steel gaze of the same person who had demanded I leave Elliot alone as he sat on the floor of my closet during the Fourth of July.

I took a step back, my mouth dropping open as fear rushed through my body, my eyes filling with tears as I realized I was afraid of him—afraid of Elliot.

“You should be afraid, little girl,” he chuckled darkly, his voice low, the intonation different. “Now get the fuck out of here and leave him alone.”

“You’re—you’re in my apartment,” I stammered, still clinging to anger despite my fear.

He looked around, remembering, and he fixed a glare at me, his eyes unwelcoming as his jaw clenched, the muscles twitching before he moved toward the front door.

As I watched him walk away, my anger and fear turned to desperation. Darlene’s words rang through my mind, ‘If he bails on you, tries to push you away, it’s not really him.’”

It’s not really him.

“Stop—Elli—whoever you are! Please. Don’t go,” I pleaded. “Stay. Talk to me. Help me understand.”

He paused, his head turning to slightly look over his shoulder before he moved toward the front door again. I raced to it and wedged myself between him and the door, placing my hand over the knob.

“Stay,” I begged. “Don’t leave like this. After everything—please don’t leave us like this. I want to help you, Elliot—if you’re in there, come back to me.”

His hands flew up and slammed into the door on either side of my head.

I jumped, flinching as he leaned into me, his lips beside my ear as he growled, “I fucking warned you!”

“During the Fourth. I remember,” I whispered.

He pulled back and looked at me with those icy eyes.

“That was the first time you pushed too hard, came too close. I can’t allow you to do that, sweetheart. Elliot’s had enough time with you. It ends now,” he said as he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me away from the door.

I grabbed his arm and he shook me off, but I grabbed him again and pulled him back enough to allow me to wedge myself against the door again.

“I told you,” he yelled, his voice harsh and unrecognizable. “I can’t protect him if you keep forcing him to open up!”

I didn’t let my fear stop me as I pressed him.

“Protect him from what? Did someone hurt him? I read about what can cause—”

His hand flew against my mouth with enough force to knock my head against the door. He pressed hard and cut off my words.

Never did his eyes leave mine as Elliot’s would have, especially in a situation of such discomfort and intense emotion. Never once did he look away.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

I held his gaze, refusing to waver. He pressed harder, the pressure on the back of my head becoming a painful throbbing.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” he asked, his brows nearly reaching his hairline.

I watch his face transition to a look of smug satisfaction as I manage to slightly nod.

He released his grip, and I deflated, the fight leaving my body as I stepped away from the door. I leaned against the wall before slowly sinking to the floor.

I didn’t raise my eyes as I quietly asked, “Are you going to keep Elliot from seeing me again?”

He sighed, some of the fight leaving him, too.

“Elliot loves you—this wasn’t supposed to happen, Y/N.”

As he said my name, my head jerked up, the syllables so foreign on his tongue I knew, without a doubt, that whoever was standing in front of me was someone completely different than Elliot Alderson.

“You have to understand that it’s my job to keep him safe. Not yours, not Darlene’s. No one else’s. No one else can keep him safe.”

“What about a psychiatrist?”

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous. If they don’t fuck him up with 15 different kinds of meds, they’ll just throw him in an institution. Is that what you want? Elliot locked up like some kind of sick-o creep?”

“I would never let that happen.”

“Daddy’s money gonna buy Elliot a happy little place in the Adirondacks? Get him a nurse, someone nice to take care of him like his worthless mother never could?”

“Is that why you hate me? I have money? Or because I consider Elliot family?”

“My job is to protect him, and I’ve decided you’re not worth the risk, sweetheart.”

Without another glance, he opened the door and slammed it shut behind him.

I buried my head in my hands, the tears I had held back throughout the entire ordeal bursting out in a harsh sob. I crawled over to the door and locked it, pulling myself up by the knob in order to secure the deadbolt.

Not that it mattered since Elliot had a key.

Not that it mattered since Elliot was being held prisoner inside of his own body.

And no one, except himself, held that key.

* * * * *

Elliot didn’t come to work on the next day.

And then he didn’t come for another three days.

When I read the email from Ali questioning Elliot’s whereabouts, I wasn’t surprised. I called him up to my office and had the secretary shut the door after she let him in.

Ali had the good manners to look concerned, but I could detect the haughtiness underneath.

“I’ve noticed that Alderson’s been out for the past few days. Can you provide some insight? He was the lead on our new WiFi scripts, as I’m sure you remember.”

The lie came much easier than any other lie in my life had.

“He’s had a death in the family, Ali. I suggest postponing the project until he returns. Ask JaLeah for someone who can handle white hat duties if your team needs another hacker.”

Some of the haughtiness fell from Ali’s face.

“Oh. Well, my condolences to him when you see him.”

“Thank you. Will there be anything else?”

“Nope—you’ve always got the answers, boss.”

“Don’t call me that,” I said as I rolled my eyes and offered him a crooked smile in an attempt to subvert his attention from the abnormality of Elliot’s absences.

Ali grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

The partial smile fell from my face the instant the door shut behind Ali, and I felt sick as my mind worked over my lie. I didn’t live my life in the shadows. I lived with integrity.

And I had just told a boldfaced lie, one that would surely make its way around the office, and if Elliot never came back to work, everyone would know I lied for my boyfriend.

What a fucking mess.

I had to see him; I had to try to talk to my Elliot, the one I was in love with, and not this other who seemed to want nothing more than for me to fuck off for good.

I made a promise to Darlene not to let Elliot bail, and clearly, the Aldersons took promises made to them seriously.  

[lailaliquorice]

looking where the light pours in

AO3 link

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

The inevitable has happened. She’s started writing SiX fanfiction and has committed herself to an entire series. But this has been fun and I hope everyone who reads it likes it c:

A full week of eight shows was usually enough to make the girls feel exhausted. The Saturday evening performance was always the one they went all out for, putting everything they had left into the final performance before their deserved day of rest. Some Saturdays would find them all heading down to the pub for a drink after the show before the headed home and this was one of them, all six of them pulling up stray stools to crowd around a tiny table in the hectic pub.

Aragon usually looked forward to their pub trips, a great way to celebrate a week well done together since their Sundays were usually spent alone recovering in their own ways. Most of the girls didn’t emerge from their rooms until at least midday, with Parr usually holed up in her study-turned-bedroom catching up on six days’ worth of bookmarked research until someone fetched her for dinner. Only Jane and Aragon were ever up early on a Sunday, with Jane making the most of the quiet to busy herself with housework while Aragon went to the Mass service at the local Church. Sundays were sacred for all of them – just the way they were meant to be.

But today, crammed in between Jane and Parr with a glass of wine untouched in front of her, Aragon just wanted to be in her bed. 

The final show had been more of a challenge than usual to the point where she’d needed a few minutes in her dressing room chair before she could even summon the energy to change out of her costume. The background chatter in the pub had blurred into a constant hum, and she didn’t realise that the voices of her friends had faded out too until she felt someone’s hand shaking her shoulder.

“Are you still with us?” Jane asked, and Aragon looked round slowly as she world came back into focus.

Thankfully it seemed to be just Jane who had noticed her space out; Anne and Anna were eyeing up the group of men at the bar with their typical lack of subtlety, while Kat and Parr were discussing the book series they’d both embarked on recently. Aragon gave a curt nod, picking up her wine glass though she made no move to drink it. “Fine. Just a little tired, you know how the end of the week is,” she said.

Jane hummed in agreement, though she looked far from convinced.

To her relief it wasn’t long later that Parr suggested they call it a night, nudging Kat’s shoulder as she yawned widely. “I don’t think little’un here will last much longer,” she joked, smiling in the face of Kat’s frown of betrayal.

“You going to drink that?” Anne asked, and it took a moment for Aragon to realise she was talking to her. She’d hardly shaken her head when Anne grabbed the glass and downed it in one.

Jane tutted loudly, half serious and half teasing, but Anne just grinned at her as she shrugged. “What? It was going to go to waste otherwise!”

“Come on you lot, let’s get going,” Anna butted in before Jane could reprimand her properly, and Aragon was all too happy to leave the claustrophobic pub behind and begin the short walk home.

As she crashed into her bed after taking her makeup off, Aragon was confident that she had just been overly tired and would be back to normal in time for Church in the morning. That hope was dashed, however, when she woke up with a stabbing headache and the feeling that her limbs were made of lead. With a pained groan and a great deal of effort she rolled over to check the time on her phone, panic piercing through the fog in her brain as she realised she’d forgotten to set an alarm the previous night. Unless the left the house in under five minutes she was going to be late for Mass.

Through either unstoppable determination or divine intervention she managed to pull on the same clothes she’d worn to the pub and tie a scrunchie around her hair, but both of those things seemed to desert her once she was in the kitchen. With no time for her usual breakfast she’d planned to steal one of Anne’s oatmeal bars to eat while she was walking, but was stopped in her tracks by a sudden coughing fit that took her by surprise and left her bracing herself on the kitchen counter.

She faintly heard footsteps and her name being called beneath the sound of herself coughing, before someone was rubbing her back. “Easy now Catherine, take a deep breath,” Jane was saying, her voice firm enough that Aragon attempts to follow her instruction without really thinking about it.

As soon as she could breathe enough to form words again, Aragon shook her head. “Got to- got to go, going to be late –“

“You’re not well love, no-one will blame you for missing one week,” Jane said with a sympathetic shake of her head.

Aragon tried to protest for a moment longer before the fight left her, replaced by hollow exhaustion as her head continued to pound. “Ok,” she whispered.

Jane squeezed her shoulder gently. “There we go. Let’s get you sat down and I’ll fetch you a glass of water.”

Nodding ever so slightly so as not to make her headache worse, Aragon let Jane take her by the hand and lead her into the living room. Sitting heavily on the nearest sofa, she heard Jane say something quietly that she didn’t catch before she disappeared back into the kitchen, returning a minute later with a glass of water and some painkillers. After taking the medicine with a few sips of water she felt Jane’s hand on her forehead, and it was a struggle not to lean into her blissfully cool palm.

“I think you might have flu, love, you’ve certainly got a high fever,” Jane said, sitting down next to her. “You were feeling bad last night too, weren’t you?”

Aragon gave another tiny nod, eyes falling closed in an attempt to conserve what little energy she had left. “I thought I was just tired. Didn’t realise anything was wrong,” she muttered quietly, already wishing she’d never left her bed.

Seeming to sense this, Jane let out a pitying sigh as she asked “Why don’t you sleep down here for a little while?” Aragon was about to protest before Jane added “You’ve got a few hours before anyone else comes downstairs. I’ll wake you up if I hear someone stirring.”

That was enough for Aragon to nod tiredly in agreement, exhaustion winning over her dislike of the thought that anyone else had to see her like that.

Jane helped her lie down slowly, arranging a cushion beneath her head in place of a pillow. “I’ll fetch you a blanket,” she said, hurrying off again to reappear with one of the blankets that they used for movie nights. “Water’s on the coffee table behind you, and I’ll see if we’ve got any lemsip for when you wake up. If not then one of the girls can do a pharmacy run a little later.”

Aragon hummed in quiet thanks. It was more than likely that they did have cold medicine in the medicine cabinet already, since Jane liked to keep it well stocked in case someone needed anything last minute before a show. There were enough plasters for an army in there along with countless throat lozenges as backup for the packet that Jane insisted they each keep in their makeup boxes for the show, plus a supply of energy tablets for Parr which were on the top shelf so that Anne couldn’t reach them.

“Try and get some rest, ok?” Jane’s voice pulled Aragon back from where she was already losing the fight for consciousness. “And let me know if you need anything. I’ll just be in the kitchen.”

There was no response this time, and Jane smiled fondly as Aragon finally gave in to sleep. Treading lightly, she carefully closed the living room door to make sure that nothing or no-one could disturb her. The fact that Aragon had let down her walls enough for Jane to be allowed to help her was a testament to how ill she really was feeling, so she’d make sure she got plenty of rest. Even if that meant fighting the uphill battle that was keeping the rest of the girls quiet and Anne from being within a 50 foot radius of the living room altogether.

As she’d predicted, there was quiet in the house until around 2 in the afternoon when the first signs of activity sounded from upstairs. Jane paused from where she’d been reading a trashy magazine – her one guilty pleasure – to glance towards the living room door, considering waking Aragon up as she’d promised. But after looking in to see her still fast asleep, she quickly decided against it.

“Mornin’ Jane,” sounded Anne’s yell as she stomped down the stairs.

Jane jumped at the sudden voice, accidentally slamming the living room door instead of closing it softly as she’d intended. With a sigh, she covered her eyes in quiet despair before looking over at a confused Anne. “Morning love. Catherine’s not feeling well so she’s taking a nap on the sofa – or she was, I doubt she’s still asleep after that,” she corrected herself.

Anne nodded, making something of an effort to treat a little quieter down the rest of the stairs. “Got it. Must be bad to bring Aragon down, thought something wasn’t right when I drank her wine without getting murdered last night.”

“I think it might be the flu,” Jane said, making Anne wince in sympathy.

“Ooh, nasty. Want someone to sit in with her if she’s awake? I know you like to be busy on Sundays.”

Jane hesitated. She knew that Aragon was likely to protest anyone being with her while she wasn’t feeling her best, but she didn’t want her to suffer alone and there was a look of genuine concern on Anne’s face. “Go in and see what she says, but leave her alone if she’s still sleeping or doesn’t want anyone there,” she said after a moment’s thought, opening the door again before embarking on the search for cold medicine.

Aragon had indeed been woken by the door slamming, but her mind was groggy enough that she didn’t really register anything until she heard an enquiring “Hey?” in the voice she least wanted to hear.

“What do you want?” she attempted to growl, but her painful throat made it little more than a pitiful rasp. She and Anne had managed to overlook most of their hostility by then, but irritation at being woken up and wariness at being seen looking weak had all her defences back up.

Anne held up her hands in surrender, not moving any closer from her position in the doorway. “Just seeing if you wanted company. I know I wouldn’t want to be alone if it was me feeling like death.”

Aragon closed her eyes, too tired to protest. “Whatever. Just don’t make noise and let me sleep.”

“You got it,” Anne said, and Aragon knew without looking that she was doing finger guns at her.

Quiet fell once more, with Aragon finding that she didn’t mind Anne’s presence as much as she thought she would. It was an odd feeling, letting someone in the same room as her while she was half-passed out on the sofa, but it was easy enough to forget in the wake of her lingering tiredness. There was one thing she didn’t understand though. After several minutes of silence punctuated only by the odd quiet snort of stifled laughter as Anne presumably scrolled through her social media, Aragon cleared her throat before speaking. “Boleyn?”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

She cracked open her eyes to see Anne sat in the armchair that Aragon herself usually occupied, still in her baggy t-shirt and sleep shorts with one leg up on the arm of the chair and the other dangling on the floor. After glancing at Aragon in confusion for a moment, she shrugged before looking back at her phone. “Just ‘cause. I’m not always a greenie meanie.”

Aragon couldn’t help her quiet huff of amusement. But in the presence of Anne’s rarely seen softer side, she had to admit it was true.

[jessikahathaway]

Into Eternity - Part VIII

Oh shit, this beetch is back. 

Pairing: Park Jimin X Reader

Words: 6,771

Warnings: Jimin being a lil shit, light sexy times, Hoseok being a brat. The usual.

The picture isn’t mine.

Jimin’s arm ached as he sat on the balcony of his room. It had been almost two weeks since the attack on the palace. And the world still seemed off kilter.

You hadn’t left Jimin’s side for almost the entirety of the past days. You couldn’t sleep alone, fearing the worst could befall him. Watching you doze and try to be strong for him was endearing, however he worried for your health as well.

So Jimin ordered your handmaidens to pamper you for the day. Warm baths mixed with lovely floral scents he picked himself. Even though Jimin wants to think he is doing it  purely for your well being, it would be a bold faced lie. He needs to speak to everyone without you there. Because they’re running out of time. The castle attack and the village being razed is nothing compared to what could be coming. They need to think of a solution, and fast.

Jimin thought back to Namjoon, the sacrifice he made to ensure everyone’s safety... it broke his heart to know someone so dear to him won’t ever get to meet his family. The family he wants to make with you.

However Jimin knew that now wasn’t the time for tears... now was the time for action. And not the kind he was hoping for the other night...

Jimin was surprised at his disappointment. But you had long been surprising him with the magnificent way you purely exist. How every single part of you drives him insane with desire and pride.

“You seem to be lost in thought,” your voice carried over the air. Jimin turned and found you in a silk robe, hair down and damp as you stood in the doorway. His breath wooshed from his chest.

“D-Darling, I wasn’t expecting you,” he stuttered, taking in your appearance. You smiled and walked up, offering him a soft kiss to the cheek.

“You certainly tried to make it so I wouldn’t be able to find you, huh?” You reprimanded. “Those handmaidens wouldn’t stop fussing. Which is peculiar for them, because they care not where I go... but today was different,” you tsked. “So that means, either you’ve told them to occupy my time... or I’m extremely obedient and never gave them a reason to be strict with me. However, I’m certain we both know the answer.”

Jimin sighed and looked down at his feet. “I should know by know that nothing gets past you,” he murmured. You chuckled and came up to place your hand on his face.

“Now, the real query is to why you felt the need to trap me in the baths all day?”

Jimin bit his lip and tried to keep his nerves at bay. He wanted to make a plan for the witch with his guards today. Begin a counter attack to the atrocity that happened in Albion. He wanted to show that even while injured he was ready to lead his Kingdom. But he didn’t want you involved... it was far too dangerous. He’d almost lost you more than once and the thought of that made him sick.

“I thought you deserved some pampering. No doubt the new oils I had brought in could help with your nightmares,” Jimin offered.

“Mmm, you could always use them on me...” you smiled when Jimin’s face went pink. The thought of you lying in your bed with warmed oil cascading down your body made his mouth water.

He shook his head and cleared his throat.

“Darling, I think a day of relaxation could truly benefit you. I just want you to feel good,” he smiled, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear.

“I feel the best when I’m with you,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. Jimin leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I have some urgent business to attend to today, I merely wanted you to enjoy your alone time. Think of the warm water and the lovely scents I picked. Just for you,” he bribed.

“It does sound lovely, but why can’t you enjoy it with me once your business is finished for the day? I bet the relaxation would aid your shoulder,” you whispered. Jimin watched your face fall as you examined his arm in it’s sling. He was doing much better, but the wound still ached when he slept and proved to give him trouble.

“If I say yes will you go and wait for me there?”

Making a face of mock concentration you tapped your chin.

“How long is this business going to take?” you pondered.

“Darling,” he warned.

“It’s merely a question, Jimin,” you appeased. “What is the business?”

He remained silent. Your face furrowed in frustration and hurt. “You won’t tell me?” you stated.

“There are some things I have to keep from you. If we both know everything then it puts us in a vulnerable position. Imagine yourself captured and they torture you for answers, my dear-”

“You think mere torture would make me betray you? You have that little faith in me?” you balked.

Jimin shook his head. “No one knows their breaking point until they reach it my darling and I-”

“Jimin, I’d rather die than betray you.”

The room was silent.

“Don’t say things like that,” Jimin warned. “Don’t you dare say such a thing.”

“Don’t speak the truth? Would you rather me lie to you? I won’t ever betray you Jimin, as your wife and future Queen it would go against everything I believe in,” you whispered.

Jimin tried to beat down his temper... He tried so hard. But it was difficult when you weren’t being cooperative. Normally you listened to him, and you understood but now? Now when it was so imperative that you listen, all you did was defy him!

“Y/N!”

You jumped back, eyes wide with fear. He hadn’t yelled at you like that in a long while. Jimin was reasonable, and he was patient. But even he had his limits.

“As your Prince and Husband, you are not allowed to leave this wing today. That is an order,” he demanded.

You scoffed, tears welling up in your eyes. “An order? You’re ordering me?” You felt a few tears escape you. Jimin felt pain rip through his heart at the sight. He upset you. He hurt your feelings and frightened you. That was the last thing he ever wanted to do... But you didn’t listen! How else was he to make you understand.

“Please, my darling listen-”

“I understand, Your Majesty,” you said, taking your robes and bowing before him.

“Y/N, please try to understand-”

“I won’t leave this wing today on order’s of my Prince. Please, enjoy your business,” you said. Turning to leave Jimin longed to reach out and pull you into his embrace. Walking out the door you ran into Jungkook.

“My Lady I apologize I didn’t know you weren’t decent,” he said, looking away from you.

“Whatever business Jimin is attending to today, please keep him safe for me?” you pleaded.

“It is my honour to do so my Lady,” he affirmed. Nodding you walked down the hall, heading for your room you hadn’t used since before the Forsaken’s first attack on you. Jungkook raised a brow as he entered the room.

Jimin stood with his hand covering his face.

“She’s too stubborn, Jungkook... How am I to make her listen when all she wants to do is defy me!” he huffed in annoyance.

“Your highness, the last thing Lady Y/N wants is to make a situation difficult for you. If she is pressing, she has her reasons for doing so. I no doubt know that to be true. Every day she sat by your bedside getting you water, food, whatever you requested. She didn’t have to do those things, she did it because she wanted to. She didn’t back down when Father Jin or Yoongi-hyung tried to get her to go and rest. It’s her fighting spirit that you like so much. Did you not tell her of the days proceedings?”

“Jungkook how am I to tell her we’re planning a raid of a Forsaken camp to the west of Albion without her feeling guilty? She thinks all of these things are her fault. She believes that her death would solve all the issues we have... Because damned Hoseok filled her head with these ideals,” Jimin growled.

“You must understand Hoseok’s reasoning for doing so,” Jungkook reminded.

“I know, I know Jungkook. But he outright attacked my wife, how am I to trust that man who wants her dead?” Jimin sighed. “I need to send him away, he’s mourning Namjoon and it’s all too volatile a situation for Y/N,” he decided.

“Let us not remove him, but direct his anger on the person it’s being caused by. Y/N isn’t the one he is truly mad at. He believes that she’s the catalyst in this situation. But in reality, she’s just a descendant from a line that merely fell in love. Like he did. You heard of his wife and child did you not?” Jungkook asked.

“I know, she died in labor and the child passed not long after that... It was horrible... I feel truly sorry for him,” Jimin said. Thinking of you passing in child labor, and not even being able to have a child to remember you by would break him. Hoseok was a strong man, but he was still devastated and blinded by loss and anger.

“Seeing you and Lady Y/N is hard for him. Because he thinks of his wife that you sent him away from,” Jungkook reminded.

“I did what I had to, he was the only one who could do pull off what was requested. His skill is unmatched,” Jimin defended.

“I understand that your Majesty, but think of how leaving his heavily pregnant wife must’ve worried him. Then returning home to discover she and the babe died? He no doubt believes if he was there then things would’ve been different, even though there was nothing to be done for either of them.”

Jimin sighed and looked out the window. “The witch destroyed his village after that, the graves of his wife and child tarnished. If that was Lady Y/N’s grave-”

“Don’t finish that statement,” Jimin glowered. “Don’t speak of my wife in such a manner,” he warned.

Jungkook nodded. “I mean no ill will by these statements, Majesty. I know you care for Hoseok and Lady Y/N, we just need to keep them both safe. Lady Y/N would understand if you told her, spoke to her and expressed your concerns with her. And Hoseok has to understand that your wife isn’t the one who killed his family, it was the witch. Whom we can destroy,” Jungkook announced.

“I hope you’re right, Jungkook,” Jimin breathed. “I hope you’re right.”

* * *

Jungkook, Taehyung, Father Jin, Yoongi and Hoseok all sat around a table in the war conference room of Taehyung’s castle. Jimin stood at the head, looking at his men with a cool stare.

“I’ve called you here today on an state of emergency in our kingdom,” Jimin began. “There is an individual out there who threatens every person under our protection, our friends, families and allies. Her name, is Morgana,” Jimin stated. “She has lived on this Earth supposedly since the Gods themselves roamed. She is powerful, dangerous and malicious. She cares not for human life, takes when she can and tortures those who fall under her feet. She created the Forsaken that now plague our lands as they did years ago. Too long we’ve bent to her will. Too long we’ve allowed her to torture those we care for. But no more. I refuse to let her continue to live while she’s hurt so many that I care for. We must fight her... We must destroy her,” Jimin concluded.

“Highness, this is a powerful speech... But you’re forgetting the easiest way to appease the bitch,” Hoseok growled.

“Hoseok, we are no longer attempting appeasement with her. If we continue to lay down before a carriage, we will be crushed,” Jimin announced.

“How are we supposed to fight someone as powerful as her? We do not know magic that counters her own, nor do we have the manpower to attack the Forsaken,” Yoongi sighed. “She may be too powerful for us to overthrow.”

“She isn’t, because she has a weakness,” Jimin declared.

“What would this be?” Father Jin questioned.

“In order for her to use magic, she must have a sacrifice weekly. Blood magic is one that is dangerous to keep. It always requires more and more until the debt cannot be paid,” Jimin informed.

“And how does that help us?” Taehyung wondered.

“If we make her use her magic until she can’t then we can attack her with everything we’ve got. Controlling the Forsaken must use a great deal of magic power for her. Also, if she has to continue to make more of the Forsaken, then we can essentially run her dry.”

Jungkook nodded his head. “I follow your Majesty. However, there still is the question of how we are to protect Lady Y/N and defeat Morgana.”

“I know a way,” Father Jin said, looking down at the table.

“What is it, pray tell?” Yoongi asked.

“I-I used to practice the Arcane arts...” he winced. “It was long ago, before God’s light shed upon me, and rescued me from those dark words,” he shuddered.

“Father, in truth you did magic?” Jimin asked.

“I am not proud of who I was before, but I know that Lady Y/N is dear to all of us. And to this kingdom. I know of a spell that can conceal her and one other from any magical detections. But, if she’s nearby other peoples, then the spell can wain... She’d have to be sent away, your Highness,” Father Jin stated.

“Then send me with her,” Jimin pleaded.

“Your Highness, be reasonable, we need you here with us to plan the battles,” Jungkook countered.

“I can only send one, the spell will be at maximum, and require much from me,” Jin sighed. “But if it means protecting Lady Y/N, then I will do whatever is necessary.”

“Send me with her,” Hoseok stated.

“Absolutely not,” Jimin growled. “You aim to kill her.”

“I still need revenge for my wife and child... I won’t kill her, no matter how it tempts me. If the witch is truly the one who killed my family... Then I will not stop until she is defeated. If keeping Lady Y/N safe is what will bring an end to this all? Then so be it. As much as I despise her... Morgana won’t stop until she’s killed,” Hoseok announced.

“Hoseok is skilled in hand to hand combat, up close is where his talents lie. He would make a good body guard,” Jungkook informed.

“I don’t like the idea, I won’t allow it,” Jimin refused.

“Highness, my brother died protecting her and you. If that is what Namjoon wanted, then who am I to go against his dying acts?” Hoseok grimaced.

“This is an oddly quick change of heart, Hoseok. You must understand my thoughts.”

Hoseok nodded and stood up. “Taehyung isn’t able to leave his castle, these are his people as well. Jungkook needs to be here with you to aid you in battle. Father Jin is no good with weaponry. Yoongi needs to train his archers and isn’t well adapted to up close combat. The best option for her safety is myself.”

“However, you are the one who has been threatening her life since you arrived,” Taehyung countered.

“All I’m asking is for you to trust me, it’s never been an issue before. Why is it one now?”

Jimin stood and slammed his hand on the table. “Damn it Hoseok, listen to me!”

The room grew quiet as everyone looked at their enraged prince. “If you lay a hand on my wife, I swear I will rip you to shreds. She is the one thing in this world I hold dear. And if you take her from me, I won’t hesitate to kill you. If what you are saying is true, then swear to me. Swear to me on your wife and child that you will not harm my wife,” Jimin snarled.

Hoseok glared at his Prince before walking over and taking his hand in his own. “I swear on my beloved wife and child that I will not harm Lady Y/N, Prince Jimin.”

“Do not betray me, Hoseok. It will be the worst decision of your life,” Jimin warned.

“When should we make preparations to move them?” Jungkook posed the question to the group.

“I would say as soon as we can, it’s the safest option,” Taehyung said.

“How soon?” Jimin asked, a pain in his heart.

“Possibly within the week if we are able. I need to gather ingredients for the spell and muster my strength, this will be a large feat for me,” Father Jin stated.

“Within the week?” Jimin croaked.

“I understand your fear, Highness, but this is for her own good,” Jungkook soothed. Jimin bit his lip and winced at the thought of you leaving his side.

“I know, she needs to be hidden away. It’s just, I know she won’t like it,” Jimin said, rubbing his face.

“Highness,” Yoongi started. “She would understand if you told her your worries.”

“You don’t know my wife very well,” Jimin chuckled. “She’s headstrong, and doesn’t want to take no for an answer. I’m worried that she’ll hate me for it.”

“I don’t believe she could ever hate you, your Majesty. Lady Y/N cares for you very much,” Father Jin comforted the young man.

“The question still remains, where do we take her?” Taehyung questioned.

“I know a place,” Hoseok stated.

“I’m wary,” Jimin stated.

“There’s an old castle that your ancestor’s used back in a time that predates this century. Your father had guards stationed there for a few years before the Northern Wing collapsed. I know a few people in the village nearby that could aid us with supplies and things of the like, she’ll be safe there. I know it,” he said.

“I know the palace,” Jimin said. “It was the first Palace of Kings... The one before the Castle in Albion was constructed. But the building suffers from weakened structural integrity. Due to it’s placement on the Northernmost Peninsula of our Kingdom. What if something collapses with you both inside?”

“The center hold is still strong. It was the last thing placed and the thickest part of the Palace. I assure you, this is where she should be,” Hoseok pressed.

“Highness, that is a very easily defendable castle. High walls with an outer gate. It was the first Palace of Kings as you said. It’s a fortress,” Jungkook stated.

“Won’t Morgana know of it?” Jimin worried.

“She knows of all Palace’s occupied by the Royal’s. But, this one isn’t a running and functioning Palace. She expects you to stay with Lady Y/N, so she imagines you would stay in a Palace fit to your standards. It’s a bold move,” Hoseok urged.

“One that could throw her off,” Yoongi agreed.

“That could be long enough to buy us some time. She’ll also use spells to find Lady Y/N. All of this extra magic use will drain her. Honestly, this will work Highness,” Father Jin acknowledged.

“How do I tell her?” Jimin wondered aloud.

“Tell her the truth, Majesty. She appreciates honesty more than anything,” Jungkook appeased Jimin’s frantic thoughts.

“I hate this idea,” Jimin pouted.

“We know you care for her, sire. But if you do want her safe, at your side isn’t the safest place for her,” Taehyung encouraged.

“Try telling her that,” Jimin complained. “She never listens.”

“All she does is listen to you, Highness,” Jin stated. “You’d be surprised how reasonable she can be.”

Jimin looked up at the ceiling and knew he had been beaten. Defeat tasted bitter on his tongue, but if it meant your life was safe... How could he refuse?

“You’d be surprised how unreasonable she can be as well,” Jimin sighed.

* * *

The fabric in the room was cold.

Jimin’s harsh words made your heart ache. You wanted him here with you, more than the warmth of a fire.

However, the chill eventually encouraged your legs to carry you from isolation. Following the familiar path to the baths you frowned. Jimin was normally so agreeable. He was attentive to your thoughts and ideas, but what would make him act this way?

He must be worrying about something. It’s the only time he lets his emotions take over and rule his logic. The thought of him worrying and not telling you made your heart clench in frustration.

Did he not know how much you cared and worried for him also? Did he not know how many nightmares involved his death. Where he left you because you weren’t enough for him? Your biggest fear was losing him.

Fighting with him made you sad. Because you knew he meant well, and that he wanted you to be happy. But he also hid things from you, claiming you didn’t need to know. However, you wanted to know. He didn’t have to carry these burdens alone. You were there for him, whenever he needed you.

You hoped that this fight wouldn’t leave such a sour taste in your mouth for long.

Walking into the baths you discovered the water already ran and your husband sitting on the polished marble. You bit your lip and crossed your arms, waiting for him to speak first.

“Y/N,” he said, looking at you with soft eyes. “My darling, I’m sorry.” He opened his arm, the other still sitting in a sling. You could tell the position pained him, but he kept them open anyways.

You couldn’t help yourself from rushing forward and tightening your arms around his neck. Tears burned in your eyes as you whimpered. You hated Jimin being angry with you, and you were sad that you two fought.

“My darling, shh, it’s alright,” he soothed. Placing gentle kisses to your head you just cried into his neck.

“I’m sorry that I angered you... But I feel like you don’t trust me, that you don’t want me to know about you. That you don’t want me to help you... I just want to be there for you, I just want to care for you.”

Jimin pulled you back from his neck and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. You melted against his mouth and let him kiss you deeply, so much so that you were bending from the force he was exerting.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and conveyed his care for you with his mouth. Gently licking your lips and along your jaw.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your skin. “I’m sorry I yelled, I’m sorry you felt as though I don’t trust you... Y/N, you may be perhaps the only person I truly trust in this whole world.”

“Then why don’t you tell me the truth,” you breathed as he looked you level in the eyes.

“Because I’m scared of the truth,” he swallowed. “Because the truth is ugly, and it may hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Tell me the truth, Jimin. Even if it hurts, I still want to know.”

He sighed and cradled your cheek in his palm. “You need to leave me.”

Your eyes bulged in panic as you gripped his hand tight. “No, I won’t. You can’t expect me to!”

Tears ravaged your cheeks as Jimin fought back his own. “I don’t want to send you away, I never have. But, my darling this is the only way... This is the only way I can keep you safe.”

“No! No please! I’m sorry for making you upset, but please don’t send me away. Jimin please, I’m begging you!”

“Darling, Y/N, please listen,” Jimin croaked, eyes filling with tears. “I don’t want to do this. If I could stay by your side I would, but I can’t. It’s not safe with me here, and you know it.”

You shook your head vigorously. “I won’t leave you. Absolutely not. It’s out of the question!”

“Sweetheart listen to me,” he urged. “I can’t lose you. I can’t let you die. Not ever. But if you stay here with me, the likelihood of your death increases. It’s no fault of your own, but of those who want your demise. The closer you stay to me, the more danger I put you in.”

“But I want to be with you,” you cried. Jimin let a few tears fall down his cheeks.

“And I want you with me,” he assured. “But dear, my side isn’t safe for you. You need to be away from the danger. The Forsaken are becoming bolder. The Palace in Albion was just the beginning. We know not what they’re capable of, but I know that there will be more bloodshed before this is all over. And I can’t let a single drop of it be yours.”

“You’ve already lost blood because of me, imagine how helpless I feel,” you begged.

“I know, Y/N, believe me that I am not doing this because I want to upset you. I long to keep you here with me. I want you with me where I can see you, where I can kiss you...” he whispered. Placing his mouth against yours you held his face against your own.

“Don’t make me leave you,” you implored, breaking the kiss slowly.

Jimin rested his head against yours. “I want you to stay,” he whimpered, interlocking his fingers with yours. “But I can’t be selfish and keep you here with me. You’ll die.”

“I’ll die without you,” you cried, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Please Jimin...”

You held your breath for a moment.

“I love you...”

Jimin froze under your touch. The words he never thought he’d hear just escaped your beautiful lips.

“Jimin I’m in love with you,” you whispered.

Jimin pulled you away from his neck and wiped your tears away. Holding your puffy cheeks in his hand. He saw your eyes glimmering with fresh tears and the fact that he was the cause hurt him greatly.

“My darling, I love you too,” he breathed.

He never thought those words would be spoken to you. He didn’t think he could love someone as much as he did you. Fate had an interesting way of turning his life on it’s head. He had been so sure this marriage would be the end of him. All of his happiness gone. However, it was the beginning of something so dear to him.

The idea of losing you now, was unthinkable. He’d surely die if you were to disappear from his life. Your beautiful eyes that shone before him, your kissable lips that drew him in, your laughter like tinkling bells. Every part of you made his heart soar with love and endearment.

“Jimin,” you whispered, leaning against his good shoulder.

“Yes my love,” he answered.

“Do you truly think me leaving will keep me safe,” you asked.

“I do believe it to be true, yes,” he agreed.

Sitting up you leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to his lips, placing your forehead against his and smiling through your tears. “Then I’ll go. If that’s where I will be safest, then I’ll go wherever you send me. But you must promise the first chance I get to see you again, you’ll come get me.”

“The very moment,” he assured, wrapping his arm around your waist. “To the second I swear, I will come for you.”

“On your honour then,” you laughed.

Jimin smiled and pulled you into his lap. “I prepared a bath for you my love, I have many samples of soaps and oils for you to enjoy.”

“Just me? Won’t you join me?”

Jimin smirked. “The last time I offered to share a bath with you, you seemed to be scandalized.”

“We almost made love that night, once on the shore, then in our room,” you reminded.

“I’m aware... If it wasn’t for this sling, I’d have you already,” he groaned. You smiled and kissed him chastely.

“We can still enjoy a bath together, don’t you think it will be nice?”

Jimin bit his lip and thought about it. “Are you certain?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t,” you assured.

Jimin sighed and tapped your leg so you would stand. Helping him up you walked over to the rack of lotions, oils and soaps. “Which would you prefer?” You asked, turning to him.

“I care not, whichever one you find attracts you the most I know I’ll enjoy,” he smiled.

You nodded and turned back, looking at all the different bottles. A slightly pink colored one jumped out at you. Taking the top of the bottle off you let the scent move through the air. Gardenia and Jasmine. It made your heart flutter.

“I like this one,” you said, turning to your husband. You almost dropped the bottle.

Jimin has his sling removed and his shirt was at his elbows.

You’d never seen him in a state of undress before. His chest was toned and smooth. His biceps strong and chiseled. He raised an eyebrow to your leering. “Do you see something of interest my darling?”

You swallowed thickly and bit your lip. “I-I found a soap I like,” you said lamely.

“Then by all mean, put it in the water,” he urged. You nodded and shuffled towards the large basin that was filled with steamed water.

The Palace was doing quite innovative things in the matter of restrooms and water purification. They had an underground well that was filled. And to fill the tubs in the washroom stones and counterweights were utilized to bring the water to the service and then it was pumped through by the kitchen staff and pressurized to spigots that emptied into the tub. And underneath it was a fire stoked by the kitchen staff.

A bell was placed next to the tub when the water became to hot, and a when the water was too cold, there was a chime.

It was truly incredible.

You stared into the warm liquid and poured in your soap of choice. Jimin’s arms wrapped around your waist while you did so. He kissed your shoulder, placing a teasing bite against your neck. You jolted, almost dropping the glass into the water.

“Careful, you don’t want to take a bath with broken glass I’m sure,” you warned. Jimin chuckled and shook his head.

“Apologies my darling, I can’t help myself,” he whispered.

Setting the soap down you went to remove your robe.

With shaky hands you gripped the fabric, tight enough that it made Jimin worry.

“If you aren’t comfortable, then we don’t need to bathe together,” he said. You shook your head.

“I want to,” you assured. Pulling the material from your shoulders you breathed in deeply. The scent of flowers filled the room and it helped ease your tension. Jimin watched quietly as you began to undo  the top of your nightgown.

He’d seen you disrobed a few times before, but nothing like this. He was going to be able to look... Without fear of you being ripped from him. He could see you in your purest state without worry...

The satin ribbons holding the material together dropped to the floor. Jimin was jumpy with anticipation. He’d waited so long to see you like this and now the time was here. He could barely keep his hands at his sides.

The fabric covering your body pooled at your shoulders, then at your elbows. You carefully pulled your arms from the sleeves, making the nightgown hold fast at your hips. Your nipples hardened in the air, and it made you shiver.

Jimin’s warmth covered your back, making you hold onto your nightgown tight. He wrapped his arms around your middle, interlocking his fingers with yours as they held your dress up. “Let me see you,” he pleaded. Placing a gentle kiss below your ear you let the fabric fall to the floor.

He almost moaned at the sight of you bare before him. You looked too incredibly good. Your chest moving as you inhaled, making your breasts jolt ever so slightly. Your bare skin was against his and it felt so... right...

Bringing his hands down from your waist he felt your hips flare out in an alluring fashion. A sign of your fertility and ability to bear him young. The thought made a small noise escape from the back of his throat.

“Shouldn’t you disrobe now too?” you asked softly.

“I want you to watch me,” he murmured, pulling away from your back. You did as he asked and turned to face him. You crossed your arms over your chest as you felt the chill of your nudity slip over you.

Jimin smiled and gripped his trousers and unfastened the first button. You found yourself unable to look away. His hands hovering over what you knew to be his... well...

Undoing another button his pants began to slack on his hips. You watched as a defined V began to appear from underneath his clothing. Jimin bit his lip as another one came undone. Only one was left and then he would be in his undergarments.

The last fastener for his trousers came undone and they fell to the floor. Jimin watched as your eyes shot up to his face and cheeks turned red.

He wasn’t wearing any undergarments. You quickly covered your eyes and tried to keep yourself from fainting.

Suddenly, warmth encased you. Slowly looking up you saw Jimin’s bright eyes and warm smile waiting. “Did I surprise you?”

You scoffed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack,” you said.

Jimin laughed and kissed your cheeks. “Come, before the water cools.”

He grabbed your hand and helped you step up and lower yourself into the water. It was warm and he watched as you relaxed. He followed suit and stepped in as well, resting on the other side of the bathtub.

You watched as the mangled scar of his injury disappeared beneath the water. You heart rate quickened at the sight of him bare before you. All you had to do was move and you would be able to feel his-

“You’re turning pink, is the water too warm?” Jimin asked, his eye peeking open.

“No! No it’s fine,” you rushed.

He cracked a smile and sat up. “Then why are you so red over there?”

“You know why,” you avoided.

“I haven’t the slightest. I’m not pink you see, so I’m just wondering if all is well with you,” he teased.

“Perhaps you should come find out?”

Jimin froze at your tone.

Did you really just...?

He stood and made his way towards you. You sunk out of instinct and tried to keep your eyes from straying too far. Jimin kneeled before you and brought his lips to yours softly.

“You’re embarrassed to see me?” he asked.

“Not exactly, it’s just... I’ve never been like this with anyone... I-I’m a... maiden in all senses of the word,” you said.

“You won’t be for long,” he whispered. “At least not in every sense.”

“Jimin?” You raised a brow.

“Turn your back to me, I’ll wash your hair,” he offered. You nodded and slowly turned and let your hair drape into the water. Jimin marveled at how long and beautiful it was. Bringing your head back he lowered you into the water. You closed your eyes and let him lather the soap and clean your locks.

His fingers massaged your scalp gently, making you shudder in delight. His hands ran down your luxe hair, watching as it disappeared into the water below. Jimin smiled as your leaned into his touch.

“Dip your head back into the water my love,” he encouraged, making you lean backwards as your body was submerged in the water. Jimin ran his fingers through your hair, getting all the tangled and soap out.

Pushing on your shoulders you sat up. Jimins arms wrapped around your body. He smiled and pressed his lips against your neck. “Mm, you smell so good my darling...”

You blushed at his words that were hot on your skin. “I’m glad you like the soap you purchased,” you offered. Jimin nudged your jaw with his nose gently.

“I wanted you to like it, but I won’t lie I was hoping Gardenia would appeal to you, my mother adores them.”

You remembered the smell faintly wafting around the Royal Palace, but it had been a long time since you’d been there. “Jimin, do you miss your parents?”

He was silent behind you. He even stopped breathing for a moment. “I do in a sense... However, I need to get used to being separated from them. Once Father passes, mother wants to move out to a smaller mansion in the country to live out her days. She says she’ll focus on being a Grandmother, not a Queen.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” you reminded.

Jimin chuckled and you turned to face him. He looked at you with clear eyes and a calm smile on his face. You wondered if he did truly miss his parents. No doubt they didn’t directly raise them... nannies and things of the like doing a majority of the work... that thought made you frown.

“I do miss them, but I don’t know them very well.” Jimin admitted, running his hand through his hair.

“I won’t let my children feel that way. Absolutely not. If I’m birthing them, then I will choose how they’re raised.”

Jimins brows raised at your fierce tone. But, a fire was sparked in his stomach at the thought of you being swollen and pregnant. Carrying his child in your womb. And the fact that you wanted to do the hardest job on this Earth. Being a parent. You wanted to be there for them first, not a Queen first.

He couldn’t help himself as he pulled you in for a needy kiss. Wrapping his arms around your waist Jimin kissed you with such hunger you had a hard time keeping up. Jimin gripped your hip with his hand and brought you closer to his lithe frame.

You went to move your arms around his neck, when you pumped his shoulder. A hiss of pain came from between his teeth. You jumped and began apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry Jimin! Are you alright? Does it hurt badly? Should I go get-“

“It’s nothing, kiss me more,” he pleaded, bringing his lips back to yours. You kissed back hesitantly, unsure of your husband’s behavior.

He brought you into his lap, unaware of your lack of clothing. Your bare thighs touch Jimin’s skin and you felt yourself flinch. Jimin pulled back, gazing into your eyes with curiosity. “Would you like me to stop?” he asked, panting slightly from the effort.

“It’s not that, I just,” You murmured.

“Am I going too fast, love?” He asked. Being with you in an intimate setting made his heart race... but if you weren’t ready then he wasn’t either.

“No, truly. Your kiss, it makes me lose myself,” you blushed. “But I believe we should wait.” You stated.

“For how long?” Jimin couldn’t help the whine-like tone his voice took on. You felt a smile grace your face.

“It feels too much like a goodbye if I give myself to you now. It seems like you want to do it incase you won’t see me again. I won’t have that. You will see me again, don’t you dare think otherwise,” you demanded, holding his face in your hands.

Jimin smiled and rested his forehead against yours. You were right, and he knew it. He wanted to not feel rushed when you took that step. As if he could die tomorrow. That wasn’t the love he wished to culminate with you. He’d waited seven months, what’s a few more weeks?

“At your will, my love,” he agreed.

“But...” you trailed off, blushing in embarrassment.

“Yes, my darling?” he teased, tracing your side with his hand. You shoved his good shoulder while scowling.

“You’re such an insufferable fool,” you groaned.

Jimin leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “I may be, but you’re mine. Into eternity.”

[hellofellowweirdos]

Chapter Three

The Avengers are no help whatsoever.

This morning Tony decided that he wants to spend the day with Ava, a chance for them both to get to know each other, so he asks his fellow Avengers for ideas of activities the two could do together. Which is a bad idea because, as soon as the question leaves his mouth, each of their ideas are thrown at him all at once. Tony doesn’t hear any of their suggestions - all of them becoming muddled together. Although this isn’t the worst part. The worst part is that, after hearing each other’s contrasting ideas, they immediately start bickering. Tony sighs; his head falling into his hands - he wishes he never asked.

Five minutes pass and the squabbling doesn’t seem to be stopping. Tony sighs in exasperation: it’s like babysitting a bunch of toddlers.

“Everybody shut up!” Tony orders, removing his head from his hands, “One at a time.” He gestures to Wanda to present her idea first, believing she’s the best consultant on the matter since her and Ava are so close in age.

“Sightseeing,” she beams. Tony doesn’t even get a chance to think over the activity before they're back to bickering.

“She’s probably lived in New York all her life,” Sam interjects; and is interrupted before he can voice his own suggestion.

“Yes, she probably has however there is the possibility that she has moved here recently. Possibly even to come live here,” Vision tries to reason; Tony wonders why he didn’t think to ask her this yesterday - he’ll make sure to ask her today.

“That’s highly unlikely,” Natasha declares, “Children of S.H.I.E.L.D agents tend to stay in the same place their whole lives, doesn’t draw as much attention that way.” That’s a valid point, Tony thinks and turns to Vision - expecting him to retaliate. Instead, it’s Rhodey that speaks.

“Just because she came here from S.H.I.E.L.D facilities in New York doesn’t mean she lives here. She could've lived anywhere in the world,” he points out.

“S.H.I.E.L.D has facilities all over the world: it’s unlikely she would've lived anywhere else,” Steve explains; looking to Natasha for confirmation.

Tony sighs, collapsing back on the couch. He tunes out the argument: annoyed that no ideas are being thrown around that could prove useful to him - he doesn’t even know why he decided to listen for as long as he did.

Instead of attempting to pry their ideas from them one at a time, since that always works so well, he decides to just wait it out. Surely they could all come to a decision by themselves.

***

Tony soon becomes bored, so he tunes back into the argument only to discover that they’re no closer to a decision than they were to begin with. He huffs. Ava will most likely be awake soon and he doesn’t want her first morning here to involve everyone fighting.

As he checks the time on his phone an idea pops into his head, one that might actually be helpful. Swiftly, he marches into the kitchen - his dressing gown billowing out behind him.

Closing the door behind him, to block out the noise, he scrolls through his contact list until he reaches Clint. As the phone rings Tony fills up the coffee machine and takes out a mug, ready to be filled when it’s done.

“Hello?” Clint picks up.

“Hey, I didn’t wake you did I?” Tony starts off, moving away from the low hum of the coffee machine and leaning against the island.

“No, we’re getting the kids ready for school,” he answers; Tony hears one of them complain in the background. This prompts him to wonder what school Ava attends, and makes a mental note to ask her today.

“Good. How’s the little one?” he asks, attempting to make small talk before dumping his problem on him.

“Exhausting, keeps us up most of the night. But at least I’m here to take on half the load from Laura,” Clint responds. Tony’s glad Clint’s enjoying his retirement.

***

“Tony, what do you want?” Clint deadpans causing Tony to panic, not exactly ready to reveal this information.

“What makes you think I want something?” he stalls - not ready to hear the words leave his own mouth.

“Because you called me at half seven in the morning. Get to the point.”

“It’s a wake up call - can’t have you slacking now can we?” he jokes.

Ding. Tony heads over to the coffee machine and pours the hot coffee into the mug.

“Tony,” Clint reprimands as Tony takes a swig of coffee - immediately regretting it as it burns his tongue. He discards the mug, allowing it to cool, and returns to his previous position.

“You have kids right?” he blurts, physically face-palming at his stupid question.

Clint doesn’t answer right away.

“Yeah, you know that,” he finally drawls, confusion prominent in his voice.

“And you get on with them quite well?”

“Yeah. Why're you asking me this?” On the other end of the line Tony hears Laura instructing the kids to put on their shoes; he feels an odd pang of guilt.

“Didn’t you hear? I’d have thought Fury would've told you, considering he’s keeping tabs on us all.”

“No, Tony. Hear what?” Tony can hear the exasperation in his voice. He can sympathise: he’s felt the same quite a bit lately.

“I sort of, kinda…” Even though he knows that stalling isn’t going to make a difference, he still does - not ready to hear the words leave his own mouth.

“Spit it out.”

“I have a daughter.” The words feel strange leaving his mouth; it makes it all seem more real. And, to his own surprise, Tony isn’t as discomforted by the fact like he originally thought. It brings a smile to his face.

“Clint, buddy, you still there?” he asks when Clint doesn’t say anything.

“You have a daughter,” he utters in disbelief, “How?”

“Didn’t your parents ever give you the birds and the bees talk?” Tony chuckles and takes a sip of his coffee, which has cooled enough for him to drink.

“You know what I mean. What’s her name?” Tony surprises himself with his own reaction to this - a swell of pride. He imagines Clint feels the same when talking about his own children.

“Ava. She’s 15…” he trails off - not having anything else to say; he feels a twinge of guilt.

“What else?” Clint prompts him, causing Tony to feel slightly more guilty.

“That’s why I’m calling: I need your help,” he admits; praying that he doesn’t make a big deal out of that fact.

“You need my help? Am I dreaming?” Tony rolls his eyes - of course Clint would make a big deal out of it, he doesn’t know why he even bothered to hope for otherwise.

“Clint, this is serious. I need a way to bond with her; get to know her, you know?” Hopefully Clint will be more help than the squabbling toddlers in the other room.

Clint takes a moment to think.

“What about taking her shopping? I’m assuming her room is very bland, like when I first moved in. So she can buy some furniture and things. Make a whole day out of it - go to the mall, get some lunch. It’ll be a good place to talk, find out what she likes, and shopping will help fill in the gaps in the conversation.” What a brilliant idea, Tony thinks; grimacing as he remembers the blandness of her room.

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” he admits; he faintly hears Laura calling for Clint, “I’ll let you get back to your domestic activities.”

“You’re welcome,” Clint sarcastically mumbles and Tony ends the call.

As if on cue, Tony’s stomach rumbles.

“Right, breakfast,” he mutters to himself.

“Wanda!” he calls, scurrying back into the living room.

~ ~ ~ ~

Ava wakes up slowly; taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with tired eyes. She had trouble sleeping last night: the huge change playing on her mind into the late night hours.

Not ready to face the world just yet, Ava rolls over in an attempt to get more sleep however the rising sun is at the perfect angle to peak through the blinds - which she forgot to close last night - and glare right into her eyes. She just closes her eyes in an attempt to ignore it. 5 more minutes, she thinks, as though the sun will listen to her kind request and humbly retreat.

Although, this isn’t what happens: the sun is persistent in its attempt to force Ava out of bed; and after 30 seconds Ava’s given up on her attempt to ignore.

As she begrudgingly drags herself out of bed she mutters a string of curse words, making her grumpiness known. She glares at the blinds; making a mental note to close them tonight.

She stumbles her way into the bathroom to splash her face with cold water - since she’s not going to get anymore sleep she might as well wake herself up a bit. The bathroom is immaculately clean, causing Ava to wonder who actually cleans the penthouse. Do they have a maid? A whole cleaning team? Or do the Avengers do it themselves? The thought of the Avengers cleaning the tower is laughable to Ava.

“Good morning, Miss Stark,” a sudden voice speaks - from seemingly everywhere. Ava jumps out of her skin at the interruption; whirling around to the door. Although, no one’s there.

“Oh, where are my manners. I am F.R.I.D.A.Y, an artificial intelligence system created by Mr. Stark.” It takes a second for Ava to soak in that information.

“Hi,” she replies rather awkwardly, not knowing where to look, “and it’s not Stark, it’s Fenton.”

“My apologies, Miss Fenton.” Ava isn’t too sure whether to attempt to continue the conversation or not however before she can decide F.R.I.D.A.Y speaks again.

“Miss Maximoff has made breakfast for everyone in the kitchen.”

“Who?” Ava asks as she turns off the tap - coming to the conclusion that she doesn’t really need to look anywhere to acknowledge the AI.

“Wanda,” she clarifies for her.

“Thank you,” Ava says, leaving the bathroom and quickly making her bed. She debates for a second whether to get dressed first, but decides against it; exiting her room.

Luckily, her room is positioned at the top of the staircase so she won’t easily become lost. She’ll have to wander around the place pretty soon: there’s so much she hasn’t explored.

As she descends the stairs she begins to hear loud chatter coming from the kitchen; and, as she gets closer, a wonderful smell invades her senses. Her stomach rumbles in anticipation.

“What’s for breakfast?” she asks when she enters the kitchen. All of the Avengers are either sat or stood around the breakfast island in the middle of the room. They're still in pyjamas, making Ava feel slightly more comfortable about her similar attire.

“Blueberry pancakes,” Wanda announces proudly as a plate of pancakes fly gently towards her. For a moment, Ava observes the plate in awe; glancing between Wanda and the floating plate.

“That’s awesome,” she comments; taking the plate from the air. Her comment prompts chuckles from the Avengers. She slides onto a stool beside Sam, taking the knife and fork that Rhodey offers her and digs in.

“Coffee?” Tony offers cheerfully as he pours himself a cup, seeming not as hesitant to talk to her as he was yesterday.

“Please.” Tony retrieves another mug from the cupboard; proceeding to pour the fresh coffee into it.

“How’d you sleep?” Tony asks as he places the coffee mug beside her plate. Ava finishes her mouthful of food before answering.

“Ok, I guess. F.R.I.D.A.Y introduced herself to me this morning, scared the shit out of me,” she explains lightheartedly.

“Careful, Steve doesn’t like that sort of language,” Natasha teases, eyeing Steve mischievously over the rim of her coffee mug.

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” Steve says with a fond sigh, shaking his head. Ava wonders what happened, however decides against asking: it’s obviously an inside joke.

Ava takes a sip of her coffee and, upon doing so, notices the design on the mug - the Avengers logo.

“Nice mug,” she chuckles, placing it back down on the island.

“At least someone appreciates them,” Sam accuses as he sends a glare around the room to his teammates, who are each holding mugs to match.

“Why would someone decide to make these?” Wanda snorts as she examines the mug in her hand.

“Where did you even find them?” Rhodey wonders; Ava picks out a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Gift shop around the corner. They sell loads of this type of stuff,” Sam explains, gesturing in the general direction of the shop. No one gets a chance to say anything else as Vision saunters into the kitchen, fully dressed.

“Morning everyone.” Ava’s eyes widen in disbelief. Did he just walk through a wall?

“He does that a lot,” Wanda answers for her, without Ava even having to utter a word. She looks back to Vision, amazed by his ability.

“How many times have I told you? Use the damn door, it’s what they're there for,” Tony scolds with a sigh, disposing of his empty coffee mug in the dishwasher.

“My apologies.” Vision takes the empty seat beside Natasha. The conversation picks up where it left off.

“Sam just used these mugs to bribe his way into the Avengers,” Steve chuckles; gently nudging Sam with his shoulder.

“I hate all of you,” Sam grumpily states, “except for Ava: she actually likes the mugs.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” she jokes, taking a sip from the mug in question.

“Then I hate you too,” Sam retorts playfully.

***

Once Ava finishes her food, she takes the plate and slots it into the dishwasher; returning back to her seat to finish her coffee.

“So, what’s on the agenda today? Saving the world?” Ava questions cheerfully.

“What do you think about going shopping? You can get some things for your new room, and anything else you want. Sky’s the limit,” Tony offers, his expression hopeful.

“Sounds great. Just us two?” Ava’s actually looking forward to spending time with her dad, which surprises her. Maybe because they seem to be more comfortable talking to one another today.

“Is that ok?” Tony worries.

“Yeah, of course,” Ava finishes off her coffee in one go, “I’ll go get ready.” And with that she’s bouncing out of the kitchen, towards her room.

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

Six Baudelaires AU, Part One {AO3} {Read from the Beginning}

Chapter Eighteen → in which the Baudelaires break into a safe

Nick leaned against the window, and said, “Do you think if we pushed too hard on this, it’d break and we’d fall?”

“I think Aunt Josephine’s getting to you.” Lilac said, passing Sunny a piece of paper to gnaw on.

“No,” Nick said, “I just think it’d be fun to freefall.”

“Don’t do that.” Klaus said. “You’ll die very quickly.”

“But it’d be fun death.”

“Nick.”

The Baudelaire children had settled in during the last few days, but it was a bit hard for them to be very happy. They would have cold drinks and uncooked food for every meal, and whenever Josephine spent time with them, she didn’t talk about their parents or anything they’d like to hear; instead, she tried to teach them grammar lessons. Nick would sometimes pretend to use the bathroom while Josephine was teaching, only to hide in their room, climb into a hammock, and fold paper airplanes out of sheets of paper he’d rip from encyclopedias when nobody was looking.

Violet spent most of her free time breaking apart the rattles, and Lilac took apart the model train set, and the two sisters would keep their hair tied up in hopes of thinking of a better burglar alarm, or a way to cook food that wouldn’t scare Aunt Josephine. Klaus eventually got bored of the grammar books, and he was dismayed to find that the only non-grammatical book that Aunt Josephine didn’t have put away somewhere was Anna Karenina, which he’d already read twice. Solitude spent most of her time finding a new room to hide in, as she’d seemed to tire of Nick never letting her out of his sight, but she felt very bad about this; whenever they found her, she’d look very guilty, and she’d apologize for worrying them. Sunny alternated between playing with her deck of cards, trying to teach Solitude how to play, or biting onto anything she could reach, but she really wished she had something better to do with her time.

“When’s ol’ Aunt Jo getting back again?” Nick asked, standing up and stretching slightly.

“Shouldn’t be too long.” Lilac said, passing Sunny another piece of paper, as Sunny had accidentally eaten her first. “She said she was just getting groceries.”

“She should’ve let us come with her.” Violet said; she and Klaus were curled up in the same chair, with her struggling to get through Anna Karenina, and Klaus falling asleep on her shoulder, having given up on his grammar book.

“Help.” Solitude nodded; she had wandered out of the room a while ago, only to come back in to see if she could spot anything under the shelves.

“Soli’s right, we could’ve helped.” Nick said. “Beats hanging around here.”

“She said she’d be scared to lose us in a crowd.” Lilac sighed. “There are a lot of us, and let’s be honest, Nick, you and Solitude tend to wander.”

“Speaking of which, whatcha looking for, Sol?” Nick asked.

Solitude giggled awkwardly before shrugging and continuing to crawl across the floor. Sunny slid off her chair, also crawling around the ground, looking under the shelves; it was better than being bored and eating paper.

“I haven’t seen that Eye in her house.” Nick said. “Klaus, have you seen it anywhere?”

Klaus opened one eye to glare at him. “Nope.” he said. “And before you ask, yes, I still have the spyglass on me.”

“I wonder what kinds of codes our parents used to come up with with Aunt Josephine,” Violet said. “And if she has them written down somewhere. It’d be more interesting than this.”

“Anna Karenina’s a classic, Vi.” Klaus said.

“And you weren’t being grammatically correct.” Nick joked. “You used ‘with’ twice in a row.”

“Bite me.” Violet said, flipping him off.

“Violet!” Lilac reprimanded. “Look, everyone, I know living here isn’t… great… but it’s better than living with Olaf, or being in Peru with him.”

“Perch,” Sunny said, which meant something like, “Or being trapped in a birdcage.”

“See?” Lilac said.

“But that doesn’t make it good.” Nick said. “Just cause it’s not awful doesn’t mean we should-”

“We should be thankful Aunt Josephine gave us a home at all.” Lilac said.

“Oh, yeah, we should be thankful that Fierce Auntie Jo didn’t let Poe send us somewhere else.”

“Stop calling her that!”

“You started it!”

“When I was a toddler!”

“Hey!” Solitude shouted.

“Stop fighting.” Klaus groaned. “You’re being loud.”

“And fighting won’t solve anything.” Violet said. “Maybe we can find where Aunt Josephine is hiding the books she’s scared of.”

“I’ve looked in all the other rooms.” Nick said. “Haven’t found anything.”

“Maybe they’re just hidden very well.” Lilac said.

Klaus sat up slightly. “I mean, she did say ‘secret codes.’ Maybe she has a secret compartment.”

“Secret room?” Violet suggested. “I’d love a secret room.”

“Yes,” Lilac sighed, “And you tell us that whenever you have the chance.”

“Well, I just-”

At that moment, Sunny let out a shriek, and they all whipped around to stare at her. Sunny had just leapt away from the bookshelves and fallen on her back, shocked, and after a second, a small brown-green frog with a black mask pattern hopped out from underneath the shelves, racing across the room at top speed.

“What the hell?” Lilac shouted.

“Holy shit!” Violet said, as Klaus jumped to his feet and ran to pick up Sunny.

“Froggy!” Solitude called, running forwards, and the frog changed direction, heading towards her. It finally reached her, and leapt onto her shoulder. “Froggy! I’s okay!”

The other five Baudelaires stared at her for a good, long while, until she finally looked up at them. Then, quietly, Lilac said, “Solitude?”

“Ye?”

“Is that a frog?”

Solitude’s face went as red as her hair. “No.”

“Solitude?” Nick crept a bit closer to her. “Is that Babbitt?”

“No.”

“Solitude,” Violet said, “That is clearly Babbitt.”

“When the hell,” Klaus said, “Did you get Babbitt back?”

Soli put a hand on the frog, which was snuggling up against the collar of her dress. “Um…”

“How long have you had that?” Lilac asked.

Solitude sighed. “Repro,” she admitted, which meant, “I’ve had them we left Uncle Monty’s.”

“Them? Is there more than one?” Lilac asked.

“Callis-” Solitude glared at her. “No, just Babbitt, but their species of frog is genderfluid, so-”

“You’ve been hiding that frog since Uncle Monty’s?” Nick asked.

“Tep!” Solitude cried. “They were hiding in the Reptile Room right before we left, and I couldn’t let those men take them away!”

“What have you been feeding them?” Violet asked.

“Bugs!”

“Have you been hiding them for this whole time?” Klaus asked.

Solitude nodded, tears springing to her eyes as she asked, “Giveaway?” “Are you going to make me give them up?”

The siblings glanced at each other, and finally, Lilac said, “You can’t show them to Aunt Josephine. They’ll probably scare her.”

Solitude beamed, laughing and flapping her hands.

“And you’re in charge of them.” Lilac said. “Feeding and cleaning up after and- and catching them!”

Babbitt leapt off of Solitude’s shoulder, hopping to a far shelf, trying to go under it. Solitude ran after them, calling, “Babbitt! Babbitt!”

She managed to dive and grab the frog before they got under the shelf, but as she did, Klaus said, “Wait a minute.”

He walked over to stand by Soli, after putting Sunny back down onto a chair. He stood by the shelf Babbitt had run to, inspecting it closely.

“This shelf is indented behind the others.” he noted.

“Yeah. Probably a weird design choice.” Nick shrugged.

Klaus ignored him, instead grabbing the edge of the shelf and pulling. The siblings stared in wonder as part of the shelf retracted, revealing a wall, with a shiny safe built into it.

“Secret room!” Violet cheered.

“Secret safe.” Lilac corrected.

“Good Babbitt!” Solitude cheered.

“Nice work, Klaus.” Nick said, moving over and kneeling in front of the safe. Solitude walked over to sit beside him, petting her frog.

“Well, it wasn’t that hard.” Klaus said modestly.

“We’ll have to break in.” Violet said. “I can make a blowtorch-”

“You are not making a blowtorch.” Lilac said.

“Coward.”

“We can guess the combination.” Nick said.

“Well,” Klaus said, “Most safes use three or four-number locks. There are one-million possible combinations.”

“We don’t have that kind of time, I don’t think.” Nick said.

“Codes.” Sunny suggested.

“Sunny’s right.” Lilac said. “Aunt Josephine said our parents developed secret codes. In some codes, numbers substitute for letters.”

“If it’s a word, it’d have to be something she’d remember, something she cares about.” Violet said.

“Grammar.” Solitude said.

“That’s too many letters.” Klaus said. “We’d need something that isn’t very long.”

“What else does she care about?” Lilac prompted.

“Cold food.” Nick said.

“Doorbell and telephone safety.” Violet said.

“Not telling us anything we actually want to know.” Klaus said.

“Scripto,” Solitude huffed, petting Babbitt, “Not actually paying attention to things we like.”

“None of you are any help.” Lilac sighed.

“Ike!” Sunny said.

They stared at her for a beat, and then Violet said, “That’s three letters long.”

“Good idea, Sunshine.” Lilac said, and they all knelt in front of the safe as Nick put in 9-11-5. They heard a small click, and Nick swung open the safe door.

“Whoo!” Nick cheered. “We’re in!”

“What is all of this?” Violet said, reaching forwards and grabbing a box, decorated with a painting of Lake Lachrymose. She opened it, saying, “Crackers.”

“Yahua.” Sunny said. “Safe crackers.”

“There’s some sheet music.” Lilac said.

“Ike’s whistling music.” Violet said, pulling out the papers.

“An Atlas of Lake Lachrymose.” Klaus pointed out.

“Here’s some photos.” Nick said, pulling out one. “Holy shit, is this Aunt Josephine?”

“Language.” Lilac said, peering over his shoulder. “I think it is.”

“Is she training lions?” Violet asked.

“She’s fistfighting a shark in this one.” Klaus said.

“Roh.” Solitude said, also taking a photo to show Babbitt. “Wrestling.”

“Boxing, Skydiving…” Klaus said, flipping through photos. “Who jumps out of a plane for fun?”

“I totally would.” Nick said.

“She did use to be fierce.” Lilac said quietly.

“What happened to her?” Violet asked.

“Hold on.” Nick said. “Hold on, there’s a book.”

Klaus reached in, pulling out a thick book, emblazoned with the title The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations.

“Well, that’s convenient.” Nick said.

“Secret Organizations?” Violet asked.

“I guess secret codes lead to secret organizations.” Klaus said.

“Our parents can’t be in a secret organization.” Nick said. “They’re not cool enough.”

“Maybe they’re not. Maybe Josephine has this for some other reason.” Klaus said.

“Maybe we should fucking read it and see.” Violet said.

At that, they heard a door open, and a call of, “Be careful with the welcome mat! You could trip and break your neck!”

“Shit. Goddamnit. Fuck.” Nick said, as Klaus and Violet hurriedly shoved everything back into the safe. Solitude squeaked and shoved Babbitt into her pocket, muttering to him to stay there, and then Nick picked her up and carried her over to a chair, sitting down with her and grabbing a random book.

“Nick, I am going to glue your mouth shut!” Lilac yelled, grabbing Sunny and carrying her back to the table, now containing several scraps of half-eaten paper.

Klaus slid the bookshelf over the safe again, and Violet grabbed a random grammar book, before flopping onto the carpet, opening it up to a random spot and hoping nobody noticed it was upside-down. Klaus ran for where Violet left Anna Karenina, flipping it open and getting onto his chair just as Aunt Josephine walked in.

“Ah, Baudelaires! There you are!” she said. “I just put the groceries into the kitchen.”

“Would you like us to cook for you?” Lilac asked, shoving a paper at Sunny’s face.

“Oh, no! Don’t use the stove!”

“We won’t-”

“But I suppose it wouldn’t matter.” Josephine said.  She sat in a chair, and said, “Children, I found something interesting at the town market!”

“Warm food?” Nick asked.

“Nick,” Lilac hissed, “I am going to kill you.”

“Lilac, dear,” Josephine said, “Don’t worry about your brother. I’m aware that I’m a disappointment to you, and to countless others. Believe it or not, I used to be a fierce and formidable woman. But these are… troubling times.”

“I guess.” Violet said.

“There are fires and dangers all around us.” Josephine said. “But… I’ve decided I shouldn’t allow myself to be afraid of everything anymore.”

“Good.” Nick said, and Lilac shot him a glare so fierce he actually shrunk back.

“So, children,” Josephine said, “May I leave you alone for a few more hours? I came home to get a new cardigan, and then he’s taking me out to dinner.”

The children froze in shock for a moment, before Klaus said, “What?”

“I met a man!” Josephine said. “He has had a troubled past, and he asked to treat me to a fried egg sandwich.”

Violet said, “You’re going on a date?”

“Violet, don’t be vulgar.” Josephine said. “It’s not a date, necessarily. But please be nice to him while I get my cardigan, make small talk. Oh, Captain! Captain Sham!”

The siblings heard a distant, “I’m hobbling as fast as I can, Josephine!” and suddenly they all felt very cold. Nick pushed Solitude behind him, and Lilac jumped to her feet, moving in front of Sunny. Violet and Klaus also stood, just as Captain Sham walked into the room.

“Goddamnit.” Nick muttered under his breath.

Aunt Josephine was going on a date with Count Olaf.

[kjs-s]

Can’t fake the feeling

Pairing  Nyota Uhura x reader

Fandom Star Trek Aos

Summary You ask Uhura to save you from Kirk’s matchmaking attempts

Prompt  “Just pretend to be my date.”

Word Count: 1220

Warnings: none

A/N: This is my second and last entry for @bookcaseninja anniversary writing challenge. Hope you like it.

@writing-journeyx   @sprinkleofhappinessuniverse@ohyesmarvel@agentpeggicarter@buckyofthemyscira @romantichen @once-upon-an-imagine @locke-writes@lucetheding @marveliskindacool@captainrogerss   @jurassicbarnes@uncomfortable-writers@theassetseyeliner@sgtbxckybxrnes @thetherianthropydaily@dresupi@caplansteverogers @captainrogerss@dirajunara-archive@imamotherfuckingstar-lord @outside-the-government@thefanficfaerie@admiralamott@yallneedtrek@goingknowherewastaken @girl-next-door-writes @janeykath318@kaitymccoy123 @musikat18

Celebrating after a tough battle had become one of your favorite Starfleet traditions. Having fun with all your coworkers and friends always made you relax and feel blessed to have them in your life. Even when one of them annoyed you for some reason.

At this moment, you were enjoying some creamy chicken tortilla cups while talking with Jaylah. She was narrating an incident that had happened to someone at engineering a few days prior. One of the ensigns had installed a wire the wrong way, causing the machine he was working on to almost catch fire. They were lucky that Jaylah was close to prevent any disaster. She stopped talking when she saw you looking around and not paying any attention to the story.

‘’Who are you searching for? In addition, if you want to be presentable, you should wipe away the crumbs from your dress.’’

You ignored the comment about the mess you have made and kept inspecting the room.

‘’It’s not what you think. I am actually trying to hide from someone.’’ She gave you a surprised look that also meant she was ready to fight whoever was bothering you. You put your hand on her arm to dismiss her protective stance. ‘’Jim, he kept asking me about who I would bring as my date and I believe he wants to introduce me to someone.  He was trying to set me up with people the whole week.’’ You sighed remembering his attempts.

‘’I can tell the captain that we are here together if you want.’’ Your friend volunteered to get him off your back.

‘’I am flattered that you want to help me but you are too young for me darling. I will find another way to ensure that he won’t see me tonight.’’

While saying that, your eyes fell on the person entering the room. You froze at the sight and couldn’t keep your eyes off of her. Nyota scanned the room and headed towards the bar. She smiled and greeted everyone in her path failing to realize that you were staring at her. She was wearing a high neck red dress with gold details that hugged her body perfectly. That made even more gorgeous was her smile. She reached the bar when Jaylah informed you that Jim was coming over to talk to you. You instantly made the decision to ask Nyota for help.

‘’Hey (Y/N), are you enjoying the celebration?’’ She asked when you sat next to her.

‘’I do…’’ You took a deep breath hoping she will play along. ‘’Listen, I need a favor from you. Would you please, just pretend to be my date.’’

Before she could utter a response, Jim approached you.

‘’(Y/N), there you are. I was looking everywhere for you. I told you I wanted you to meet Chris from the medical team. I am sure he is here somewhere. Hi Nyota, can I buy you a drink later?’’ He smiled at both of you.

‘’Jim, I appreciate your offer but you know the drinks are free right? Also, I would like you to please don’t try to set my date up with someone else. I invited her here and I would like to spend some time with her.’’ He smiled and winked at you. You were a little bewildered to realize that had she just agreed with your plan.

‘’You two are here together? That’s great. I’ll drink to that.’’ He asked for a refill of his drink and proposed a toast for you. ‘’I’m a little hurt you didn’t tell me anything. However, I totally understand it. I am your captain and you might have thought I would reprimand you for dating a coworker.’’ He had thought about it when he was trying to figure out who to set you up with. He had done the exact same with for others as well.

‘’No worries ladies.  Since you are both lieutenants, there is no problem with you dating each other. Moreover, you are in different divisions so no abuse of power here either. I always knew you would find someone special and I love you as a couple, you are adorable together. Therefore, I will let you enjoy your evening and I hope you won’t have to hide your relationship at least from me anymore.’’

You were thrilled that Jim was off your back. However, you felt guilty for lying to him given his enthusiastic response to the possibility of your relationship with Nyota. At that moment, you recognized that after seeing how stunning she looked, you began acknowledging your feelings for your friend.

Fortunately, she hadn’t seen you spacing off and initiated a conversation. It was mostly to make sure you would continue making the captain believe you were dating. It wasn’t difficult to think of topics to talk about and you ended up spending almost all your time together.

By the end of the night, Nyota excused herself to move around a little due to her legs feeling numb from sitting too long. She didn’t notice Jim approaching her until he was smiling right next to her.

‘’I am so delighted to see that my plan is working.’’ He winked at her.

‘’Your plan?’’

‘’Yes. You see, you are the only one here who is available and who (Y/N) is comfortable enough with to ask for help.  I figured either she would recruit you to throw me off or I would eventually have to set you two up, which was the endgame all along. I am just glad the situation went that way since that indicates she is interested in you as well.’’ He looked over to where you were sitting alone.

‘’I knew about yours since you are not as secretive as you think you are. Now stop having doubts about what will happen and go to your fake, soon to be real, girlfriend.’’

When he sat down next to you, you noticed her being a little nervous. She never acted like that so it struck to you as odd.

‘’(Y/N) can I ask you something? Why did you choose me to pose as your girlfriend?’’ She tried not to reveal the hope about sharing her feelings.

‘’Because I trust you and you are my friend. Who else would have I asked for such a favor?’’

‘’Literally anyone. Jim thinks that there might be something behind your decision.’’

You looked over at the captain who was still staring at you with a hopeful expression. That and Nyota’s questions gave you the confidence to imply what you always wanted.

‘’Do you want to be something behind it? Like me having feelings for you?’’

‘’Yes. I have and I wished that I wasn’t reading this wrong the whole time.’’ You put your hand on hers.

‘’You weren’t. I apparently had no idea my admiration for you could mean something more up until I saw you entering the room earlier. I felt like there was nobody else in the room I can look at.’’

‘’I’m glad to hear that. And if you want we can go on an actual date on our next shore leave next week.’’ You agreed on that and ordered something more so that your night won’t end there.

[supergirlimaginesfic-blog]

Lena Luthor x reader (No more masks, I won’t hold back)

Request: "The candy is for the trick or treaters not you, quit eating it all " with lena       

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN you wonderful ghouls and pals of mine! Whether you celebrate it or not, have a kickass day, stay safe, and do all the things you want to do, no matter what it is that makes you happy - today and all the days!!! :D

Anyway... how was THAT for an episode that we just watched?? I am STILL reeling about all the Supergirl Ladies content we are having and I have never felt so ALIVE!!!

Here’s a short cute one for y’all though! I freaking LOVE domestic Lena alright!! I swear it is the greatest concept and not only does she deserve this, but we too also Deserve This. Now also imagine Lena having to deal with someone who has approximately zero impulse control?? That’s you this time LMAO. Happy Halloween and happy Tuesday!!

- - - - -

There were only two occasions you ever looked forward to in your life, and since your birthday wasn’t considered a national holiday by the nation yet (how rude of them honestly) you had to settle for the next best thing.

Autumn was your favourite season - you romanticized every single aspect of it that could possibly be cherished to the high heavens and back again. The crunch of leaves on sidewalks under your boots, and leather jacket and sweater weather made you come alive when the rest of nature around you was settling down and shedding.

The colours around you and the anticipation of keeping away indoors to stay warm - it was what kept you going, to say the least.

Even the pumpkin flavoured everything you didn’t bat an eyelash at, and so often some of your friends have expressed their ire of your tendency to go overboard with the festivities.

How could you have helped yourself if it was just simply more fun to act like a suburban housewife and decorate your entire house in Halloween decorations and buy an army’s worth of candy rather than to deny yourself the simple happiness of doing so?

Naysayers be damned, you’ll eat your themed cookies and ensure everything from your house to your car to nearly every single orifice of your body smelled of pumpkin, you’ll eat all your Halloween candy and only regret it for the next few days, and you’ll damn well call anything and everything ‘spoopy’ until the retail industry pries it from your cold, dead hands and forces aisles and aisles of Christmas decorations down your throat.

It was also Lena’s first official Halloween, and much to your friends’ amusement and great exasperation, this very fact seemed to make your excitement reach unprecedented heights.

She’s only been your girlfriend for something just over half of a year, but already you could very well say you knew each other well enough to not be so surprised by each other’s funny quirks.

After you finished work you barrelled right through your front door and darted into the shower the instant that you could, throwing on your favourite obnoxiously bright coloured knit sweater and sneaking six packets of candy into your pocket, for later, obviously.

You promised Lena to bring out all the stops for her first Halloween experience, and you were beyond ecstatic that you got to be the one who did this for her.

You were pondering just how lucky you were to have Lena in your life as you laid out the ready to bake Pillsbury pumpkin and ghost cookies before putting them in the oven.

You’d tried convincing Lena that she didn’t need to leave work too early; Halloween is a late affair anyway.

For her part, she seemed just as excited as you about celebrating, perhaps it was your zealous eagerness that was infectious, but more and more Lena was becoming as taken with the day as you were, and you thought it was absolutely adorable.

Still, her text message to you made it evident she was insistent about coming home early to be with you.

Lena: “I let Jess go home early again... I’ll see you soon :)”

you: “was she just as perplexed as she was the last time you told her to go home early?”

Lena: “It seems as though she’s stopped asking questions and just accepted it.”

you: “seems wise, especially considering what you get up to when you do leave early, I imagine she wouldn’t want to know anyway ;)”

Lena: “And you seem to be wanting to push your buttons tonight, what makes you think you’ll get so lucky?”

you: “you are the light of my life and I am more than lucky to take anything you are so gracious to give me, Ms Luthor”

Lena: “Yeah, yeah, I get it. No need to kiss ass, I’ll see you soon babe ;)”

you: “Love you! Can’t wait <3″

You grinned to yourself as you put the cookies in the oven, marvelling at just how easily it is to smile when it comes to your girlfriend.

With nothing much else left to do, you sit down on your couch and peruse through Netflix’s Halloween selection, wondering if you could convince Lena to watch a horror movie with you.

It’s probably about fifteen minutes later and you’re in the middle of the third episode of Mindhunter when you hear the door open and you turn around to catch the figure of your girlfriend by the threshold.

“Hey babe,” you smile broadly as you take notice of her casual clothes.

“Hi yourself, (Y/N),” she says, walking over to your place on the couch as you lean your head back for her to give you a kiss.

She glances at the TV and squints her eyes suspiciously at you, “you started another episode?”

Your eyes widen and you try to hide your sheepish smirk, “no.”

Lena raises a stern eyebrow and you’re becoming less and less successful at hiding your guilty grin.

“I don’t like it when you lie to me, (Y/N).”

She leans down closer to your lips and you can feel her breath. You move up to kiss her but she dodges the move.

“Uh-uh, tell me the truth,” she says slowly.

You stare up at her again, your head leaning back as you gaze at her chastising look upside down. You smile softly to yourself at the sight of her, the teasing and fondness masked behind a veil of reprimand, and you think you zone out for a little bit in a dopey trance when you hear her click her tongue at you in frustration.

“Don’t do that.”

“What? What did I do?”

“How am I supposed to be angry with you if you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” you ask half curiously.

Lena takes a deep breath and a smile forms on her lips, she shakes her head as she grabs your cheeks and kisses you.

“I can never say no to that face of yours, even if you do try to sneak some TV behind my back.”

“I did not,” you grumble petulantly, watching as her eyebrow arches again when she makes her way to sit beside you. “Entirely.”

“Mhm, right,” she remarks with a fond smirk. “How was your day, darling?” She presses up against you and leans her head on your shoulder.

“It was awesome, everyone dressed up which isn’t really something I’d expected. How about you?”

“It was a day... It’s rather difficult to talk Kara out of an idea once she has one, isn’t it?”

“What did she do now?”

“I believe she and Winn had some bet which she lost, so she walked around the office today in one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes that are always circulating the internet?”

You burst into laughter at the thought and wondered how Winn convinced Kara to walk around in an obnoxious costume for a day when her crime-fighting extracurriculurs were to be considered.

“I don’t really think she considered that she could actually lose,” Lena answers your wordless question.

“Those are always the best bets.”

“So what’s on the agenda today? Are you going to make me watch some ridiculous horror movie so I can snuggle up next to you?” Lena asks conspiratorially.

Despite yourself, you blush at the remark and try to hide your grin.

“I was, actually.”

“You’re so transparent,” Lena says, laughing as she moves in to kiss you.

“Not my fault you’re so irresistible,” you retort with a little pout.

Lena levels her look to you and mumbles against your lips, “you don’t need an excuse to hold me, (Y/N).”

“It’s Halloween anyway, what else could get us into the mood-”

Lena interrupts you as she kisses you, moving so she’s straddling you and pushes you into the couch.

“I know plenty that could get us in the mood,” she comments in a low voice.

She grinds softly into you and you groan, your hands moving to her hips as you chase her lips.

The rustling of something Lena’s disrupted distracts her and she looks down at your leg. She eyes your pocket suspiciously before she snaps her eyes up at you.

“Do you seriously have candy in your pocket?”

“No,” your eyes widen and you make a valiant effort to hide the humour in your lie.

“You’re in a dishonest mood today, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it this is my favourite!”

“Darling, I love you, but your sweet tooth is entirely ruining the meaning of ‘assorted candy’. You get to keep whatever is in your pocket for the rest of the night,” she says with a half-serious warning.

“Yes ma’am,” you mutter as you try to tug Lena back towards you.

“Nope,” she says, refusing to let herself be pulled in.

You look at her with your best puppy eyes and make a grand pout, blinking your eyes in utter sadness and deprivation.

“You’re going to burn the cookies. Don’t think you can use me as your excuse for gross negligence,” she remarks with a mischievous smile.

Lena moves back to her seat on the couch and you make a great show of slowly getting up and dragging your feet toward the kitchen, muttering just loud enough so she can hear.

“I guess! I guess I’ll go, I guess! I didn’t want kisses anyway, it’s fine!” you continue until your voice is nothing but a muted lament from the kitchen.

You take the cookies out of the oven, exceedingly impressed by Lena’s timing, no doubt, and you eye the bowl of candy that’s on the kitchen counter next to the tray of cookies.

You move to stick your hand out and you make just the slightest ruffling sound when you hear Lena’s voice calling out to you from the living room.

“The candy is for the trick-or-treaters, not you. Quit eating it all!”

You drop your jaw slightly in surprise and wonder if Lena’s got eyes on the back of her head.

“Hurry up and get back here before we’re interrupted for the remainder of the night and you regret all of your choices.”

You nearly slip in your socks rushing back to Lena, catching that look of amusement that you’ve noticed is becoming a common expression of hers, her eyes crinkled and lips twisted into a subtle smirk as she watches you dive onto the couch beside her.

True to her observation, you’re about half an hour into Friday the 13th Part VI when the beginnings of the never-ending doorbell mark the start of the evening.

You, being the child at heart, are exceedingly impressed by the sheer number of Supergirls you see; pirate Supergirl, zombie Supergirl, you think you see a velociraptor Supergirl to which you were witness to a brief argument of, ‘it’s Halloween I can be whoever I want to be’, and you whispered to the kid your shared affinity for dinosaurs, to which you received a beaming smile.

You can’t help it but you laugh when you see a child dressed in a laughing-crying emoji costume, and it wasn’t long at all before Lena’s become envious of you that she’s joining you at the door.

In between Halloween-goers, you find yourself sat on the stairs and you’re making out with Lena like two teenagers with the house to yourselves before the next doorbell interrupts you, and you always half-heartedly groan at the distraction and Lena dutifully shoves you toward the door.

Once, a solitary scientist shows up at your door, her mother standing a few feet away from her and the small girls looks up at your tall figures.

“Hi, I’m a scientist,” she says, completely opting out of the traditional greeting.

“That’s awesome, you probably need all the energy you can get to save the world, right?” you say as you drop some candy into her bag.

“Yeah, my mom says too much candy isn’t good though.”

“She’s right, my girlfriend is a scientist too, she only eats healthy food.”

The girl looks up at Lena and her eyes widen in wonder.

“You’re a real scientist?”

“I am, aren’t you?”

The girl tilts her head and her eyes widen again in realization. “Yeah.”

Lena grins as the girl happily waves goodbye, skipping to her mother who’s shaking her head in amusement at her daughter.

When it’s later in the evening and the number of trick-or-treaters has dwindled and you’re almost finished your third movie, you interrupt the B-horror movie you and Lena had opted for in favour of light conversation.

“You gonna dress up next season?” you ask as someone on the screen trips over their own feet.

Lena’s head is leaning against your shoulder and she snuggles closer to you under the blanket draped over you two.

“I suppose so, I definitely will when we have kids of our own though.”

You think you feel your heart skip a beat and you hear the low trumpeting of your heart in your ears. You think you’re projecting, totally having misheard Lena and you don’t dare comment on it at all, lest you make everything awkward and more troubled than it ought to be.

Your silence goes entirely noticed, however, and you don’t have to see Lena to know her eyes have shot to the size of golf balls and you can feel her entire body tense beside you.

You keep your eyes stubbornly trained on the TV, trying to steady your breaths but you learn that the mindful attempt of regulating a natural phenomenon is far too much work.

Lena’s uncharacteristically stuttering when she speaks up, “I just- I meant, that if... in the circumstance that could ever be a possibility-”

You move your arm and put a hand on her knee, your other arm bringing her in close and you squeeze reassuringly.

“Kid talk already, eh?”

You feel her indignant blush and you laugh, feeling her sink her head deeper into you if it were even possible.

“I’m sorry, I’m just bugging you,” you amend gently. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper as it’s muffled by your clothing.

“So we’ll get there when we get there. And I know I can take on everything with you, and I in fact want to.”

You squeeze her again and feel her wrap her arms around your midsection, you adjust yourself accordingly to let her.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think I could have a better Halloween partner than you.”

“How charming and thoughtful of you to say,” she says in a teasing lilt, taking her head out of somewhere from under your arm and resting her chin on your shoulder.

You turn your head slightly to look at her, adding an afterthought.

“Or a better partner in general.”

She looks up at you through her lashes, studying the soft look your face has taken when you look at her, and after a long moment she purses her lips for a kiss.

You turn your body to her and smile into her kiss, grinning at the soft exhalation of air she lets out when she melts into your touch.

You tug on her waist to bring her on top of you, Lena falling into your lap easily as you run your hands up and down her back in a soothing motion. Lena moans lowly in your mouth as your hands slip under her shirt, finally touching skin.

She rocks into you softly and your jaw drops a little, Lena’s touch tracing your lip gently before nipping at it.

You think you feel so viscerally shaken when Lena abruptly pulls away, leaving you feeling particularly cold and at a loss of contact.

By the time you figure out what’s going on, she’s already just made it to the bottom of the stairs.

“Hurry up, babe, or you won’t get to see the other costume I have in store for you.”

For the life of you, you think you black out momentarily when you process Lena’s words, and you think in that split second of seeming eternity, you caught a glimpse of your whole life flashing before you.

If there was any indication of eager excitement on your face, Lena most certainly caught it if the wink and sultry eyes she gives you is anything to go by.

You were proud to say you tripped only once bolting up the stairs; that and a handful of other bruises you garnered that night surely ended up being worth your troubles.

[itzsci]

I couldn’t believe I was here, banished from my home because of something I didn’t do!

With no other suspects or leads, people - my family - blamed me for it all causing the High Council to make their decision. I tried to fight it, explaining that it couldn’t have been me but it seemed nothing would change their minds - I had to leave.

Not even my Dad stood up for me believing everyone else’s stories except mine. Secretly, I think he was glad to see the back of me as it meant nothing got in the way of my sister, Anna, becoming The Next Weather Witch like she was supposed to. It was her destiny apparently. I dreaded to think how that would end.

And to think it all started like a typical day.

I had been sorting the weather, as per my job, making sure humans down on earth felt comfortable with the warm weather I was creating. But, of course, that wasn’t easy with my younger sister next to me undoing all my work every few minutes.

Rolling my eyes at her for what felt like the hundredth time today I went to reprimand her when I noticed a guard a little distance away, waving and pointing at something in his hand like he was trying to tell us something. Forgetting my annoyance with her for a moment I indicated for Anna to go see what it was, watching as she rushed towards him only stopping mere centemeters from his face. They spoke for a second and I was surprised to see it ended with her laughing before she rushed back as if she never left, a “I know something you don’t” grin plastered on her face.

That meant trouble.

“Welll are you going to tell me or give me the scroll.” I demanded after waiting for her to give me some news. I had already tried to take it from her but she was quick and kept getting away from me.

“Do you reallly want to know?” She questioned.

“Yes. Tell me.”

She shook her head in answer, laughing as I tried once more to get the damn thing. Fed up with it all, I summoned lightening to come letting the power wash over my fingertips. In my head, I commanded the weather to target my sister rejoicing as I noticed a dark cloud forming on the top of her head. It was the first time I had ever done it, making the weather target a specific person and I couldn’t help but watch satisfied. I guess my power was really coming on.

“Okay! Okay!” Anna cried when she finally noticed what was happening. Instead of stopping it I let it continue waiting until the clouds start to thunder, her expression turning white in response. Next stop lightening.

It was her only weakness.

Finally, she threw the thing at me, letting the scroll hit me in the face. I narrowed my eyes at her antics letting the clouds linger before making them disappear, concentrating more on the scroll than her.

“Dad wants to talk to us.” Or, talk to me more like whilst you watch. I added in my head, despite the fact the letter had said “us” and not “you.” For some reason, Anna had always been Dad’s favourite, always wanting her to be around as if to teach her the ropes. I think he had wanted her to be the next Weather Witch, only to be disappointed when I was appointed by the High Council instead. Of course, she wasn’t ready since her powers had not grown in yet but that hadn’t stopped Dad for fighting tooth and nail to change their minds. I didn’t know how I felt about that.

“Chloe, come on!” shouted Anna who was suddenly way up in front of me shaking me from my thoughts. She was near the guard now shouting at me whilst he watched awkwardly. She was jumping up and down impatiently making me exhausted just looking at her and the guard probably terrified. I didn’t know how she had so much energy, so much excitement. It was exactly how Mum used to be.

Walking slowly whilst she ran ahead, we both made our way into the Grand Castle in the sky, one daughter worried and the other too excited she couldn’t breathe.

I hated the castle. Dark, gloomy and unwelcoming inside and out I felt like a prisoner who could never leave. It felt almost empty inside though there were thousands of rooms available, just ready to be occupied. Nowadays there wasn’t a lot of people around to give this place justice and in consequence half of the castle was never used. It used to be better with Mum around.

As I snail-walked towards the throne room I noticed how one or two guards seemed to linger outside a few of the rooms, bowing as we passed. I smiled at them guilty, remembering how many of the people that had “left” were loyal staff that had been with us since we were born. All because Dad believed Anna was unfairly overlooked.

I hadn’t realised we had arrived until I bumped into Anna’s back. I blinked, looking up at the brown door stood before us, guards waiting outside. I gulped audibly, still not used to being here - down this corridor. But Dad always insisted, saying he couldn’t bear to be in the other side of the castle and of course we had to do as he said.

No one said anything for a moment as the guards awaited for instruction on what to do, never pushing us to go straight in. I appreciated the thought knowing they could tell how uncomfortable I felt. Before I could ask to give us a moment however, Anna decided to barge in without a second thought, shoving the unlucky guards out the way. They grumbled under their breath as we passed so I quickly mouthed a quick apology, hoping they would hear it and wouldn’t spit in our food later before following her in.

“Daddy! It’s good to hear from you.”

I said nothing.

Very quickly we greeted each other, hugging Dad before sitting down. The throne room was just like how you would expect though instead of two thrones at the front there was one. A table had been put in recently, ready to be used for meetings though I don’t think we had had one for years. We sat down, Dad at the front and Anna being sitting on his right like a loyal dog. Shuffling my feet awkwardly, I sat close to his left sitting one seat down from being close to him. He eyed me as if he was disappointed but turned away. And that was the basis of our relationship.

I waited awkwardly as they began talking, so fast it was hard to listen to. Unsure if I should keep in I waited it out before finally Dad spoke.

And gave me the worst news of my life.

So here I am. Banished. Banished for a crime I hadn’t commit but someone had seen me do it and that was apparently all the evidence Dad needed. I didn’t know where I could go but I knew I couldn’t be there. In a way, I guess it was a present in disguise seeming as I didn’t enjoy the castle anyway. Yes, that’s it. It was a present, maybe the best one they could ever give me in my lifetime. I was free.

[snickerl]

Mom’s The Best

A collection of XF ficlets

I started this collection of stand-alone ficlets featuring Margaret Scully because she’s always been one of my favorite characters and a season 11 without her seems too much to take.

So far, the collection contains the following ficlets:

PEPPERMINT TEA APPLE PIE ROOT BEER

PEACH PUNCH

Margaret Scully was hurting.

She was hurting so badly even breathing was painful. As a mother, you were not supposed to bury your child. It wasn't the natural order of events that a mother had to say goodbye to her dead daughter, although it hadn't hit her totally unexpected. Over the last years, she had tried to brace herself for the worst and that had always been the not so unlikely possibility that her daughter had to go before her.

She hadn't expected it to happen to her older daughter though. When she had rushed to the ER a week ago, she had asked for Dana Scully's room and hadn't understood why they had been giving her the facts about Melissa's medical condition. It hadn't made any sense to Margaret that Melissa was the one lying in the hospital bed she had been looking at, tied to a respirator, her head bandaged and her heart beat recorded by a monitor. It had always been Dana she needed to worry about, not Melissa. Dana was the one with the dangerous job that exposed her to killers, not Melissa. Melissa was a dreamer who went to esoteric conventions and dealt with all kinds of mysticism, who met people who were a bit eccentric but otherwise harmless. How come she had been shot in the head by a cold blooded killer and not Dana?

It had taken Margaret a while before she had understood that the bullet that had eventually killed Melissa had actually been meant for Dana, that the killer had simply mistaken one sister for the other. The two Scully girls who couldn't have looked any more different, the only thing they shared was the color of their hair. Melissa was tall with long legs and a distinctive figure, whereas Dana was petite, her stature short and slim. How could someone be so dumb to mix them up?

The last days had been nothing but an ordeal for Margaret. She had held a vigil at Melissa's bedside, hadn't left her but for a quick shower at her house and some new clothes. She had prayed together with Albert Hosteen, who Dana had been sent to them because she had needed to hide from the people who wanted to kill her. At least Bill had been with her, although the foaming rage he had directed at Dana and her choice to join the FBI had been difficult to take at times. Margaret had needed consolation and support, playing the blame game hadn't been of any help. Not to her, not to Melissa, not even to Bill himself. Her thoughts had not only been with her older daughter who had been fighting for her life right in front of her eyes, but also with her younger daughter of whom she hadn't known the whereabouts. But she had pitied her for having to deal with her sister being shot in lieu of herself, disconnected from her family.

Margaret Scully was crying.

She was crying for the daughter she had lost, but also for the daughter who had been attending her sister's funeral absent-mindedly and completely frozen today. Fox had been at her side the whole time, compassion and worry etched on his face. Dana had refused to throw dirt at the grave and she had refused to accept the condolences granted to the family by the congregation or mourners. She had even refused to listen to Father McCue's words which had been meant to soothe her. She didn't want to be soothed. Dana felt guilty for her sister's death and undeserving of any other sentiment but reproach and contempt. So she was fighting against everyone who tried to make her feel better but let the guilt take complete possession of her instead. Margaret knew Dana felt so guilty, she would trade places with her sister without giving it a second thought if some divine - or diabolic - power offered her, and it only added to her motherly grief.

Family and friends were gathering at Margaret's house after the funeral to offer consolation but also to commemorate Melissa's life which had been too short. Margaret had prepared her late daughter's favorite food, music she had liked was coming from the stereo, and she had asked some people to say a few words, Dana being one of them, but she had declined. The sun was out and the temperature was very agreeable. A few people had gone outside and had gathered in small groups in the yard. They were speaking of Melissa, telling each other how they had met her or anecdotes from their lives with her, some of them peculiar or even funny. Onlookers might mistake the gathering in Margaret Scully's back yard for a joyful garden party because of the laughter that could be heard here and there and the people chatting with drinks and food in their hands. If only not all of them wore black and if only the closest family weren't so grief-stricken.

Maggie was shaking a lot of hands, was hugged and told many words of consolation. She had been so busy all day that she almost forgot how sad the cause for this reunion was. At some point, her best friend Martha dragged her out of the kitchen where she had been piling up muffins on a cake tray to serve to the funeral party. Martha shoved her into the living room where Dana was standing in front of the fireplace staring at the family pictures on the mantlepiece.

"She hasn't moved for half an hour now, Maggie," Martha said. "She's suffering like a dog. You have to talk to her."

Maggie sighed. "I know. She can't cope with it, is blaming herself. But she wouldn't talk to me."

"Try again, dear, and let me take charge of the muffins."

"Thank you, Martha."

Martha smiled compassionately at her friend before she turned around and headed back to the kitchen. Maggie walked over to where her daughter was standing, still petrified in front of the fireplace. She had an idea which picture she was looking at. There was one in a silver frame of Melissa and her as kids. Missy was eight years old, Dana had just turned seven. It had been taken at the end of a long day at the beach, the girls had been swimming and building sand castles the whole day. Dana's face was cluttered with freckles and Missy's nose was red from a sunburn. They were posing proudly in front of the structure they had built, a huge castle with towers and crenels, a moat and even a drawbridge. Missy had put her arm around her younger sister's shoulder and both smiled happily into the camera, showing the photographer their adorable tooth gaps. Maggie had always loved that picture, for one could see how close the girls were, how much they loved spending time with each other. They hadn't only been sisters but also best friends. No wonder Dana's pain was so intense.

Maggie grazed her daughter's shoulder softly not to startle her. "That's a wonderful picture of you," she said. "You can have it if you want to."

"It's yours, mom," Dana croaked without looking at her mother, "I can't take it away from you."

"You're not. I would be giving it to you."

"Your place is where it belongs, not mine. Mine is the place where she lost her life, I don't think she would've appreciated if I took her back there."

"It's a photograph, Dana. A beautiful one of Melissa and you you might want to take home as a reminiscence of your sister."

"To remind me every fucking day that I took her life?"

Maggie gasped at the curse word but now was neither the time nor the place to reprimand her adult daughter for using it. But there was something else she had to set right. "You did not take her life, the killer did. He took your sister's life in cold blood, you did nothing wrong."

"You have to understand, mom...this bullet was meant for me!" Dana was very upset now. She spoke through gritted teeth, clearly working hard to keep her voice down. She was spitting out every single word as if they tasted bitter. "I...am the one who should be lying in that coffin! Not Melissa!"

"And if that were so, Dana? Huh? Do you really believe I would be any less heartbroken over the loss of you than I am over the loss of your sister?"

"Melissa didn't deserve this."

Dana stared so intensely at her mother, drilling her eyes into her, that Maggie held her breath. "Neither would've you," she felt the urge to point out.

At this, Dana looked away from her, clearly fighting to keep the tears at bay. "I chose to be in that business, to put myself at risk. I didn't mean for her to be pulled into the danger I was dealing with and to get killed in the process."

"And you think I don't know that? You really believe I don't have any idea what's going on inside of you, Dana? That you're putting all the blame on yourself?"

Maggie so wanted to pull her into her arms, to cradle her and stroke her head. She was her little girl after all, although she was a grown-up woman. Right now she was a wounded wildcat caught in a trap lashing out at everybody trying to free her.

"If I had stayed. If I had only waited for her."

"Then he might have killed you both and I would be standing here today mourning two daughters."

"I shouldn't have gotten in the car with Skinner. He said we would pick her up on the way, but we didn't. She must've have taken a different route than usual or something."

Dana wasn't even listening to what Maggie was saying anymore. She had retreated into her own private courtroom and acted both as the defendant and the chief prosecutor. And she would also deliver the verdict on herself, a verdict which would be nothing else but 'guilty to all of the charges'.

"You couldn't have possibly foreseen all that! Dana, be reasonable and stop perverting the facts! The killer did that to your sister, not you!" Maggie appealed to her daughter. She could also be forceful if she wanted to. She knew exactly what Dana was doing. She was covering the unbearable pain over the loss of her sister with self-contempt. It hurt less to loathe herself than to endure the immeasurable grief and anguish.

"I can't forgive myself that I wasn't at her bedside when she died. I didn't even say goodbye to her."

"Dana, sweetheart, Fox told me that he kept you from coming to the hospital, that by staying away you granted her the only chance she had for survival. If you had shown up at her bedside, they would've killed her along with you, and probably also me. You sent Mr. Hosteen, and he was of great service to us. I'm sure your sister knew you thought of her and were with her through him and she must have loved the fact that you sent someone to practice his mystic powers on her. Please, Dana, don't let this beat you."

"But-"

"No buts!"

"But I miss her, mom." Dana's voice had taken a different ring now. It was brittle and thin all of a sudden, she was rather breathing the words instead of spitting them out like before. "I don't know how to live without her. For all my life, she's been there. How am I to live without my big sis?"

"We all have to learn, dear. None of us knows how to carry on without her yet."

Maggie saw how Dana was crumbling to pieces in front of her. Her chin started to tremble, her eyes filled with tears, and her face contorted into a painful grimace in her desperate efforts to somehow keep her composure. Maggie was overwhelmed by compassion for her younger daughter, she pitied her so much for having to go through this, so much she even forgot her own pain for a moment. She pulled Dana into a tight embrace, almost swallowing her tiny body. She let her cry her eyes out on her shoulder, held her shaking body and rocked her.

"You're not alone, Dana," Maggie implored. "I'm here for you. You've got your brothers. Tara." When Maggie noticed Mulder entering her field of vision, his eyes directed at his partner and full of sympathy, she whispered, "and you have a friend in Fox."

Hearing her co-worker's name, even though it was the one she hardly ever used on him herself, pulled Dana out of the intimacy with her mother. She cleared her throat and hastily brushed the tears from her face, so obviously embarrassed that it made Maggie pity her even more. Why didn't she want anyone to see she also could be vulnerable? When had she turned into a woman to whom asking for help was a sign of weakness? Fox seemed to be contemplating the same thing because he put his hand on her shoulder and reassured her, "it's okay, Scully, you don't need to put up a clean face for me. You've seen me in despair over the loss of my sister and the role I played in it, and now I'm seeing you. I know exactly how you feel." His mouth was so close to her ear, he almost kissed her.

A heart-wrenching sob escaped Dana's chest. She pulled away from her mother and threw herself into Fox's arms. She literally crawled into his embrace, rested her head on his broad chest and let him envelop her with his long arms. Maggie was touched by the scene. They were partners, co-workers, fellow agents, whatever you wanted to call them, but they cared for each other like best friends. Maybe, one day, they would become even more than friends, Maggie thought. Fox was a sensitive, caring, and decent man, despite what Bill thought of him. And he honestly cared for Dana, not only as his FBI partner but as a human being. He definitely was a person she would be glad to see her daughter being in a romantic relationship with. But those were hopes for another time, not for today.

"Take her home, Fox," Maggie told him.

"I don't want to go home," Dana hiccuped into his chest. "I can't be there."

"You can come to my place, Scully, and stay as long as you want. And if you don't want to return to your apartment ever, we find you a new place."

Dana looked at him, clearly surprised by the offer and furrowed her brows. "You don't have skimmed milk," she tried to reason. She sniffed, dabbing Fox's shirt with his black tie where she had wetted it with her tears. One could see that she liked the idea, needing only one more a little push before she gave up her resistance.

"We can get some on the way. But don't let yourself believe we will also get all those crazy fat-free, low-cholesterol potato chips you say you like although they taste like cardboard."

What a brilliant man, Maggie thought. How well he understood Dana. And she actually showed him a smile. A tiny, tight-lipped one, rather a smirk, but still, he had managed to pull her out of her mode of unrelenting self-flagellation. He would help her heal, of that Maggie was sure, and she could again tend to her own wounds.

She kissed Dana's hair and caressed her cheek, squeezed Fox's arm and threw him a grateful look. He nodded at her shortly, then put his hand on the small of Dana's back and nudged her forward. Maggie watched them leave her house before she turned around to get a bowl of peach punch out of her refrigerator.

Melissa had loved peach punch, and Margaret Scully had set her mind on proposing a toast to her late daughter with a glass of peach punch in her hand.