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considermewhelmed · 4 years

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Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths- Tim Drake

TW: attempted su*c*de/su*c*dal thoughts, anxiety, depression.

a/n: hey remember in the Master when I said these would be short fics? Ha. Yeah. Me too. Good times.

Tag list: @river9noble

Master

“Achilles, Achilles, Achilles come down/Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof?/You’re scaring us and all of us/Some of us love you/Achilles it’s not much but there’s proof.”

“You may feel no purpose/Nor a point for existing/It’s all just conjecture and gloom/And there may not be meaning/So find one and seize it/Do not waste yourself on this roof/Hear those bells ring deep in the soul/Chiming away for a moment/Feel your breath course frankly below/And see life as a worthy opponent.”

Tim stood on the edge of the building, overlooking the city. His cape billowed lightly in the cool air, and he took a deep breath.

‘Red Robin, report.’ Barbra’s voice asked in his ear.

Tim remained silent, his eyes scanning the streets, but his mind far away.

‘Red Robin, report.’ She repeated.

‘Red Robin, are you okay?’

A new voice broke onto the comms.

Dick.

He had been thinking a lot. About Dick. And Damian. Bruce. Steph. Babs. Duke. Luke. Cass. Kate even. There were just… so many of them. So many. One less surely wouldn’t matter?

He imagined he wouldn’t get a huge memorial like the one for Jason in the batcave- he was choosing this, he did it himself, there was no honour in that. He didn’t mind though, he wasn’t sure he even cared to be remembered.

They barely remembered him alive, why would death help?

He wondered how long it would take them to forget him. The voice is the first thing you forget about a person, when was the last time he talked to them all?

‘Red Robin, where are you?’ Dick.

‘Is his comm offline?’ Steph.

‘No, it’s online. It should be working. Receiver and all.’ Barbra.

‘Red Robin?’ Dick.

He looked down. He’d survived some pretty unlikely things, but this was too much. Too high. There was no way his heart could take his fall, let alone the pavement below waiting for his body. It called his name, whispering the promises of sweet relief with every breeze, the streetlight spotlight marking his entrance to his final bow.

‘Can you get his tracker online?’ Dick.

‘Red Robin, come in.’ Bruce.

‘No. He’s bypassed the security.’ Barbra.

‘Really Drake?’ Damian. ‘Sneaking off during patrol?’

‘Red Robin, report.’ Bruce- and Tim imagined he sounded worried in the way only Batman could be.

‘Where was his route?’ Dick.

Tim tuned them out, but couldn’t bring himself to turn the comms off completely. He didn’t have the heart to be alone- he was selfish and desperate.

He shrugged off the cape, letting it fall to the rooftop, and quietly unclipped his utility belt. He wished he felt scared, or sad, or anything, but instead he just felt numb. Human instinct should be trying to get him back safely to the solid roof behind him, but instead he just swayed in the wind, as if even his own body was impartial to the decision.

He closed his eyes and sighed quietly, rolling his shoulders back, resigning to his fate. There was no use in fighting anymore.

That was it. He felt something. Tired.

Not just tired. Exhausted. Bone deep exhaustion, the kind of exhaustion that made even sleeping a chore. Tears gathered in his eyes, and with each drop his mask got looser and looser. He thought of something to say- some sort of goodbye. Not for them, but for him, for closure. His own eulogy. Last words, maybe?

Did he deserve last words when the villain he lost to was his own mind? Internal, eternal, and inevitable? It was a dance he’d been a part of for far too long and he was just tired.

“Hey Replacement.”

Tim expected his whole body to go rigid, for his instinct to take over, for any kind of fight to bubble up inside him, itching to get out. He and Jason reconciled, sure, but sometimes when he caught him off guard, Tim still had the same knee-jerk reaction.

Instead, his body just stood there, open and unarmed. It solidified his resolve- even his instincts knew it was over. The idea that Jason could easily shoot him, or push him off the roof didn’t scare him.

Why would it?

He could hear Jason’s quiet, heavy steps as the older boy approached.

‘Red Hood, status, have you found him?’

Dick’s voice came over the comms.

Tim didn’t look at Jason. There was a soft click.

“No, not yet. I’ll keep looking. Just cover my area Dickhead.” Jason said before the soft click happened again.

The two boys were quiet for a minute.

Behind him, Tim could hear the familiar whirring of the mechanics- mechanics he helped design -that indicated the removal of Jason’s Red Hood helmet. A thump after indicated Jason had opted to ditch it on the roof.

Normally, Tim would yell at him for being so careless with his equipment, especially since Tim worked hard on the last updates, but he couldn’t even find his voice.

He heard the clatter of weapons hitting the ground, and Jason stepped closer.

“Come on Timmy,” Jason said softly, and Tim’s chest tightened at the nickname. “You’re shaking. You gotta be freezing.”

It wasn’t until Jason said something that Tim realized he was vibrating. Even the air was unforgiving in Gotham, and somewhere between his decision to step on the ledge and the loss of his cape, it turned into an icy grip that cut through the thin material of his suit.

The wind stung his face where the tears had started to slip beneath his mask. His knees buckled and he sucked in a sharp breath of air.

“I can’t.” He choked out, his hand gripping at his chest. “I- I can’t move.”

‘Red Robin?’ Dick’s voice cut through the comms. ‘Come on buddy, where are you, I’ll come get you.’

Tim couldn’t hear him over the roar of his own blood in his ears, and took his comm out of his ear, throwing it off to the side.

It was then he caught sight of Jason, and was shocked by the lack of not only helmet, but mask as well. Jason’s eyes had a green shine to them- a side effect of the pit -and they were trained on Tim.

Jason held out his hand to Tim. “Take my hand baby bird.” He murmured.

“No,” Tim cried. “I want- I should- I have to- I’m going to fall Jason-”

“No.” Jason said sternly. “No you won’t.”

Tim inched closer to the ledge. “It doesn’t matter-”

“Of course it matters dipshit, you matter. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

Tim’s lip trembled and a sob tore from his throat as his knees gave out from under him and for a split second he was falling-

And the next he was wrapped in a tight hug.

Tim reached out instinctually and grabbed onto whatever he could hold, staying as close as possible to the smell of leather, gun polish and sweat, a surprisingly comforting combination.

Maybe it was just because it meant safety.

“I’ve got you baby bird,” Jason mumbled, and he could feel Jason bury his nose in Tim’s hair. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry,” He sputtered through his tears. “I’m sorry, Jay, I’m sorry,” A whole new breakdown washed over him, and he couldn’t get a grip on his emotions.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Jason scolded him lightly, and rubbed little circles on his back. “I’ve got you.”

“I was going to do it,” Tim cried.

“I know.” Jason whispered.

“They hate me. They’re going to hate me more!” Tim whimpered. “I can’t- I don’t want-”

“I know.” Jason repeated. “But no one hates you, Tim,” He promised. “Hell, even Barbra threatened to get out here to find you.”

Tim buried his face in Jason’s chest and just stayed there. “I’m nothing more than a placeholder,” He mumbled. “I’m a pretender. A replacement.” He sniffled. “I didn’t- I didn’t even want to be Robin. God. I wanted Dick to be Robin. Batman needs Robin.” He was close to hysterics, and god Jason still didn’t know what to do.

“Maybe,” Jason agreed. “But Bruce Wayne needs Tim Drake.” Jason said quietly. “I’m pretty sure the old man would be lost without you Timmy.”

Tim shook his head and Jason snorted. “You set up the system in the batcave, make sure the Wayne business is intact and running smoothly, you’ve updated all the security, you always make sure there’s coffee in the manor, and no one makes him smile with bad jokes like you do.”

Tim stayed quiet, and Jason alternated between rubbing his back and running his hand through Tim’s hair. The boys stood there for as long as Tim needed to and Jason realized how small Tim was because Jesus Christ this was just a kid in a costume and he just wanted to be loved.

“Can we go back to the Manor?” Jason murmured. “My bike’s not far.”

Tim didn’t move.

“We can watch a movie?” He suggested. “I’ll let you pick.”

“Why are you being so nice?” Tim mumbled.

“Well… I could punch you instead if you’d like. Not sure that’ll make you feel better though.” He offered, and was rewarded by the smallest, quietest laugh. “C’mon, we can raid the kitchen.”

“You aren’t going to make me talk?” Tim asked.

Jason shook his head, tightening his grip on him. “I’m not going to make you talk about anything you don’t want to baby bird.” He said softly. “But if you want to do that, I’m here for that too.”

Tim tightened his own grip and kept close- Jason was keeping him grounded and that’s all that mattered. “What was it like?” He whispered.

Jason was quiet for a long moment, and Tim regretted asking almost immediately.

“Long.” Jason decided. “Dark. Quiet.”

“Good quiet?”

“No.” Jason said softly. “Too quiet.”

“I’m sorry.” Tim whispered.

“Me too,” Jason mumbled. “You’re not alone Timbo. I’m right here, alright?”

Tim nodded and pulled away after a moment when he felt like he could stand on his own. Jason collected their things and handed Tim his mask, cape and belt, putting his own mask and helmet back on, clipping his holsters on.

The ride back was quiet- Tim’s comm must have busted when it hit the roof, and if Jason heard anything he wasn’t giving it away. Jason came up with some half-assed lie about what happened to Barbra and the other Bats over the comms, and immediately claimed the living room for him and Tim, heading upstairs.

Tim was asleep by the end of the opening credits, tucked safely into the side of his big brother.

Maybe Tim couldn’t fight the villain in his head on his own, but having someone like Jason Todd on your side certainly made it easier.

#thebatfamplaylist #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #batman #bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #dick grayson #nightwing #damian wayne #Robin #barbra gordon #oracle #sorry this is so sad

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twilitty · 3 years

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Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

taglist:

@musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos

#twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #jasper #the twilight saga #carlisle #twilight saga #smeyer #2008 #twilight renaissance #bella/jacob #jacob/bella #jacobxbella #bellaxjacob #fanfic #fanfiction #twilight fanfic #mine

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imfeelingprettylow · 5 years

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So what if, instead of Adam telling Satan off, God shows up? Humor me for a second I probably am going to suck at this

The ground shook and Adam stood facing this massive beast, who was supposed to be his father. But he wasn't because

"Dads don't just show up after 11 years." As he had said. And it was looking like this very scary thing was going to pass. But Satan wasn't budging.

"So my son abandons me. And all that stand between me and the world is a couple of children, a former hellhound, a witch, two witchfinders, a whore, and two rebellious lovers. Seems God has chosen her champions. A pity. " as he was speaking he transformed, his massive self becoming smaller as he turned from horrifying into a vague humanoid shape. A pair of massive wings, much bigger than any angels, sprouted from human shoulders, and with a blink of the eye, a tall man stood before the lot. He was hard to focus on; immensely beautiful and terrifying to behold, with red eyes. Horrifying blood red eyes.

"So. I'm here. Standing before my son asking him to help me end this war once and for all. But where is your god? She sends you lot, with the hopes of what? You cannot save the world. She has abandoned you as she abandoned me." Satan's voice is heavenly and horrifying, a mixture of growling and celestial harmonies that has the hairs on Crowleys neck stand up. There is a flash of light and suddenly Gabriel is standing behind the group. Why God chose him to speak for her he will never know. He is absolutely terrified, as he walks forward to stand beside Adam

"The lord has spoken to me." Gabriel says, visibly shaking. There is a beat is silence. Satan raises one delicate eyebrow

"And?" He asks. Gabriel swallows the pump in his throat.

"She says to go back to the hole from whence you came." Even crowley, in his fit of terror had to smirk at that. Satan chuckles, his smile agonizing to behold

"And why does she not come to tell me herself? Ah, I know" Satan raises his face to the sky, eyes burning, massive wings opening "Because she isn't THERE "

In the next second two things happen. One, beezlebub appears beside their lord to inform him that hell is as it should be. Beezlebub fortunately appears beside Gabriel because they are afraid to approach their master from behind.

The second thing that happens is, God appears. One would expect a flash of light. And of course there is. But this light is so bright that aziraphale, in absolute terror, must unfurl his wings and moving with the speed of the angel he is, must gather Crowley and Adam to him, to protect them from God's wrath. Because God is pissed.

She appears, not as a human, but as a singular ball of floating light, smaller than a human head, burning with the rage of 6000 years. Aziraphales wings protect his demon and the boy from the full force of her might, and he manages to turn to face her. Beside him, Gabriel has done a miraculous and traitorous thing. In a pure act of kindness, without thinking, he has stepped in front of the Lord beezlebub to protect them from God's wrath. Beezlebub blinks at the feathery wall before them, surprised but unafraid. Aziraphale glances behind to see a singed, but very much alive crowley, covering Adam with his body, yellow eyes shut in terror. God hovers before satan, burning with rage and malice. All of this has happened within the span of two seconds.

"Hello Lucifer " God's voice is, well ineffable. Cannot be described. Crowley and beezlebub both cower in fear, hands over their ears in pain. Satan smirks, pleased with himself

"Hello mother." God's light hurts even the angels eyes. She glows brighter, annoyed

"You must go back into the hole, lucy." The old nickname makes Satan pause and suddenly both Gabriel and aziraphale notice pain; Satan's rage is as strong as God's and their wings become slightly singed. Crowleys head pops up as he recognizes that smell.

"All I ever wanted, mother, was to be loved." Crowley is looking back and forth between Satan and his angels wings. Beezlebub is now standing. Both demons know what they must do

"But you lOVED THEM MORE" the roar is accompanied by hellfire and Crowley launches himself in front of aziraphale, midnight wings open. Beezlebub has become a hoard of flies, and swirls around Gabriel protectivley. Both demons take the full force of the hellfire, as God simply casts it aside. Satan's great roar causes Gabriel to cry out in pain. And God pauses. She does not react to her son's temper tanrtrum. She dims. Crowley had begun to smoke in her presence, beezlebub literally dropping like flies. And God notices this, and pauses.

"My son. I wish not to fight. Neither of us can win this battle. So instead of arguing needlessly I am simply going to make you notice something." She turns to face the lot. Crowley is the one front and center. His love for aziraphale is all consuming as he stares at the Lord. He is not afraid, despite the pain he is in.

"Yes I've seen your champions mother. They are unimpressive." Satan's words cut deep and Gabriel cries out again. Aziraphale is trying to stand, but Adam pulls him down to keep him safe.

"My champions? Odd. I didn't choose any of them" God says. Satan scowls

"You choose evrything. You have had this plan since the beginning of time." He argues

"Well yes, I had hoped things would go this way. But I play with cards Lucy. Sometimes my design is less perfect and more..."

"Innefable." Crowley says, his face full of pain. God dims a bit, and moves closer.

"I think I've been quietly watching things from the sidelines too long. Of course I will continue to do so, for the humans sake. But for my angelic and demonic children, I think I let things go too far... You all are so ready to destroy what I so love." God seemed uoset, which is to say that her light went a little blue. Satan fumed

"Ah yes, the bloody humans. Those frail creatures you love more than your own children" Satan spat.

"Of course. I may have underestimated my children however." God said. "It seems to me that angels and demons are not so... binary in good and evil. It seems that given enough time and energy, they can be almost....human" God smiled at Crowley and he flinched. Aziraphale looked up and over one midnight wing at his lord, and slowly came around, despite Crowley and Adams concern.

"Oh, you mean these traitorous fools? I will not suffer them to live." In an instant there were flames engulfing them all.

Aziraphale thought he was dead. He hurt all over. His eyes were shut and he felt...peace. love. So much love. He opened his eyes to see a sky full of midnight wings.

Crowley wailed and grew to a height unimaginable, casting himself fully into the smiting flames of his master. And this act alone is what made him survive. Pure love. The flames hit him, with all the fury of hell, and he absorbed them, snarling, yellow eyes wide

"You will NOT take him from me!"

The flames engulfed him, and then they were beaten back by his wings, right into Satan himself.

Satan stumbled back, shaken but otherwise unharmed. The flames died down and Crowley lowered his wings, the air around him shimmering with heat.

"You will NOT take him from me." Crowley said again.

*authors note* if I screwed anything up please be kind but informative I didn't proof read this at all lol

UPDATE EVERYONE

Satan stood there dumbfounded for a singular second before his angelic face began to contort in rage. before satan could unleash his full fury on Crowley, however, God stepped between them.

“enough lucifer.” she said, and this time, crowley did not cringe. Aziraphale and Adam peeked out from behind him, and Beelzebub was themself again, standing beside gabriel. God cancelled out the pain around her, and faced off with her rebellious son

“you are not seeing what you are meant to see. nor are you trying to understand. you are ignoring the reason this all had to happen. you are disappointing me lucy. again.” God was not angry, but she had begun to turn a rather peculiar shade of purple, that Gabriel recognized as disappointment and sorrow. And Satan recognized it too. He looked at crowley behind God, looked at Beelzebub beside Gabriel, looked at his own rebellious son, at the human children around them, and then finally his bloody gaze was upon his Mother. Satan glared, but behind his false anger was a sorrow and pain indescribable.

“I just want to be loved.” he snarled. Crowley, in all his anger, could at least understand that. Aziraphale, behind him, felt that too and reached fro Crowleys hand, their fingers intertwining. God dimmed.

“you are, my dear boy. I love all my creations, even those that rebel against me. I have always loved you. Even this boy you spawned to destroy my humans, I love him as well. My love does not dwindle, nor does it become overruled by rage.” Adam, in surprise, looked at god and then at Satan. and then he walked right out and stood beside god , her light not harming him in the least.

“you shouldnt hate her so much.” adam said. satan regarded his son with suspicion.

“your powers are great my boy, but not even you could change the reality of his heart.” Aziraphale said. “his hatred has darkened the love that used to be there.” God dimmed again, becoming more blue than purple

“I think youre wrong.” adam said “I think you havent given him a chance. I think, he let himself get upset and he wasnt thinking straight, and he hurt his friends and now, he doesnt know how to fix it.” adam was speaking from personal experience, and his friends smiled

satan frowned at the boy

“so what do you propose we do? we are mortal enemies.” he said, frustration showing. Adam turned to look at crowley and aziraphale, standing hand in hand

“so were they. all it took for them was...well im not sure. i only just met them. but im sure if you ask them they can tell you.” all eyes turned on the pair, and defiantly they refused to let go of each other, though aziraphale was looking rather scarlet, from the singing hellfire or pure embarrassment, he would never tell. Crowley, tire iron still in hand, looked at his angel and pondered for a moment

“it took a second for me to love aziraphale. on the wall. when he showed his loyalty for humanity and disregard for the rules. it took 6000 years for me to admit that, just now.” Aziraphale looked at his demon in shock and then swallowed nervously

“well I...I guess it was the books. I mean, I suppose I’d always been...fond of Crowley, I loved his company. I can always indulge and be...me. and then he saved my books for me and I guess I’ve been denying my love for him until...well a few minutes ago. But yes. We were mortal enemies, perhaps for a moment on the wall. But we have always been friends...and then some.” Crowley squeezed Aziraphales hand and smirked. Adam turned back to his satanic father

“I bet you could learn to do that.” the boy said. Satan, however stood unconvinced

“what? take a ball of light, the Almighty out to fish and chips? with humans? “ he scoffed. Gods light was now a pure amber color, a color of love and humor

“I can take many forms, Lucy.” Was all she said.

“Wait Wait Wait!” Gabriel said, striding forward, Beelzebub following quickly behind “disregarding all of that, I want to know how this is all supposed to play out. we are supposed to have a war! is that not happening?” God turned to her archangel, who promptly took a step back and swallowed in fear

“there will be no war, my child. I will speak to the angels myself.”

“but you havent done that in...”

“too long, Gabriel. I have been absent for too long. Things are going to change in heaven. as for hell...” God turned to her satanic son, and his angelic face was full of conflict “I am always here for you, my dearest boy. Whenever you need me, ask. I have lots of work to do” God turned then to Crowley, Aziraphale and Adam

“you have all done so well, my children. I am so very proud.” and with that, she vanished, like fog vanishes on a windy day, and they were left there with satan, who was looking rather befuddled.

“So the war is off, if my son still refuses to destroy humanity.” he looked down at adam, who looked almost bored

“I quite like humanity, thanks. feel free to stop by the wood sometime, if you ever want to play with Dog.” Satan stood straighter, and looked at Crowley

“and you? where do your allegiances lie now? with the angels?”

“my allegiances have always been with Aziraphale.” the demon said very plainly. Aziraphale squeezed his hand tighter

“fine. Lord Beelzebub?”

“I...” they looked at Gabriel “I am not sure, master. I think we have more troubling things at hand. the troops need some...alignment.”

“well, let us go then. I see no more reason to stay. good riddance and all that.” Satan vanished by melting into the ground. Beelzebub spared Gabriel a glance before doing the same

Gabriel let out the air he had been holding and glared at Aziraphale

“I have to go. You and I are going to talk more about this after I...figure out what side im on.” his face fell in confusion before he dissipated as well.

and so then there were three children, the former antichrist, two witchfinders, a witch, a whore, a former hellhound, and two ethereal beings.

“so...now what?” Madam Tracy said “Ive seen god today. I dont think I can just go back to my flat.”

“Well I for one have had enough occult presence today, thanks. Can we go home now ?” Pepper said. Adam smiled

“yeah I think im gonna go home. my dads here.” and sure enough, Adams human father was getting out of his car. Crowley, in a moment of exhaustion, wavered a bit, and Aziraphale caught him

“are you alright my dear?” he asked in concern. Crowley smiled, eyes shut in pure bliss

“yes, angel, I am perfectly...tickety boo.”

*authors note* thanks for all the support!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable bureaucracy #crowley #aziraphale

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hateswifi · 5 years

Text

Rising from the Ashes: Of Titus and Twitter

So this is Part Four here is to my Master List and Part Three. Enjoy!!

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She’s blinded by the light as the portal closes, at least she came out in an alley much less conspicuous than teleporting in the open. She looks at her phone, one in the afternoon that’s enough time to figure out where she is and a place to stay for tonight. She spoke English well due to traveling with Uncle Jagged, hanging out with Clara, and working at Gabriel.

She walks out of the alley after she detransforming, but still wears the glasses not wanting to put them away yet. She pulled out her phone and looked up ‘Hotels near me’ the closest hotel at a decent price was Hotel of Gotham. She quickly started walking there it only being one o’clock and it was only a three-mile walk.

The walk was uneventful and by the time she gets there, it was one-forty-five. She bought a hotel room for ninety-five dollars a night. She dropped her stuff off and went to try and find a job. She brought her sketchbook and one of the dresses she had made when she had been hiding the previous week.

She walked into a couple of boutiques and was immediately rejected already having a full staff. She does not lose hope though instead, she looks at the list of boutiques she had written and sighed, the last one. She finds it and by the time she gets there, it’s already six o’clock. She had been job hunting for around four hours. She looks up and sees the boutique called Lucky Spot. Marinette has a great feeling about this one she opens her purse and sees Tikki.

“You’re going to be great!” She whispered. With restored confidence, Marinette heads into the boutique with her head held high.

“Hello madame,” Marinette said after she walked to the front. “My name is Marinette and I was hoping to speak with your boss about maybe getting a job?”

“Well, here I’m the boss. What do you have to show to prove to me that you are worthy to work here?” The woman asked, looking Marinette up and down.

“I have sketches and this dress I made by hand last week,” she said, setting her stuff on the counter.

“Would you be able to wait till closing time? It’s only an hour away,” The woman asked, looking at her watch.

“Of course where would you like me to wait, Madame,” Marinette asked, grabbing her things.

“You can wait in the back, I’ll come to talk to once I’ve closed,” she answered, showing Marinette.

Once she was alone she sighed in relief. She grabbed her phone and dialed Chloe’s number. Chloe had promised to stay with her friends tonight when she called.

“Hey, guys!” She said, quietly.

“Hey, where’d you end up?” Luka asked, looking at her.

“I’m in a city called Gotham. I don’t know much about. I’m at a boutique right now called Lucky Spot waiting to talk to the owner about a job. That pretty much sums up what I’ve done today,” Marinette told them. “I’m so tired.”

“Well, it is ten o’clock here. If I were you I would learn about the city,” Kagami said.

“I will when I get back to the hotel. Tikki is such a great support system for me and always helping me. I don’t think I would be as alright as I am right now,” Marinette smiles, looking at her little companion.

“Awww Marinette you’re strong by yourself! I only helped a bit,” Tikki cooed, looking at her chosen.

“Tikki is right Mar. You’re stronger than you know,” Adrien comforts.

“I know you’ll do big things in this world. Everyone will know your name!” Chloe encourages.

“Thank you, guys! Now don’t worry about me. Go to bed I know it’s late there,” Marinette said with a smile.

“You’re never a burden,” Luka smiled.

She looked up when she heard a knock. The woman, who would hopefully become her boss, walked in with a smile.

“Bye guys! The owner is here. I’ll call you soon I promise. I’ll keep you updated on what happens. Love you all,” Marinette finished, hanging up as her friends said goodbye.

“Who are they?” She smiled, softly.

“My friends from France,” Marinette smiles at her friends happy she was able to talk to them.

“Well, now can I take a peek at your work?” The woman said, sitting down on the other side of the table.

“Yes and by the way I never caught your name,” Marinette said, passing her book s and dress across the table.

“My name is Diana Prince. It’s nice to meet you Marinette,” Ms. Prince said, looking at the girl. She had felt something familiar about her since Marinette had walked in. Then she had heard Marinette on the phone with her friends and distinctly heard the name Tikki. She hadn’t heard Tikki’s names since she had been back home with her mother, a previous owner of the creation miraculous.

Marinette sat there waiting it felt like ages but had only been thirteen minutes.

“Ms. Marinette these are quite wonderful, but may I ask why you come to me with your talent when I’m sure any of the big businesses would hire you,” Ms. Prince asked.

“I’m going to tell you this but not for sympathy. I lived in a bakery in Paris for my first eighteen years, but my parents died in a fire. I’m not liked very much by my old classmates because of a liar, who turned my friends and classmates against me, and my parents were my only family, so I decided to leave. My friends are supportive and I love them a lot, but I couldn’t have any attachments there so I’m only keeping contact with them,” Marinette started. “I was affiliated with Gabriel, Audrey Bourgeois, Jagged Stone, and Clara Nightingale, but I want to leave everything behind including my connections with them. I was unable to start from the bottom because Jagged found me as a middle schooler and decided my designs were ‘Rock and Roll’. He then recommended me to them, so I never actually started from the bottom.”

“That’s very noble of you, but I feel as though there is something you’re not telling me. I won’t push you, but if you need someone to confide in, I can help. You have the job, by the way, you may start this Wednesday at seven o’clock sharp if that works. I have a couple of clients I will need help with,” Ms. Prince explained, standing up and shaking Marinette’s hand.

“Thank you, Ms. Prince, you have no idea how much this means to me. I had been searching for jobs since I got here at one,” Marinette said with a smile. “Is there anything I should know about the city?”

“Please call me Diana. But also you moved to Gotham without any research?” Diana asked, looking flabbergasted.

“I let fate decide,” Marinette answered, vaguely.

“Oh well, I recommend you look up Gotham’s heroes and villains when you get a chance,” Diana said, leading Marinette from the backroom to the main shop.

“Maybe that’s why I’m here. After all, fate works in mysterious ways. It was a pleasure meeting you,” Marinette said, leaving the small shop with a smile.

The next day was Tuesday and she tried to sleep in late, but with Paris being six hours ahead she woke up at six. She decided to go to the closest park which happened to be Gotham Public Park which doubles as a dog park.

She left Tikki to sleep and placed a plate of cookies out for her before she left. She took her sketchbook with her and sat on a bench and started sketching. After about half an hour she guesses she hears a dog bark. She ignores it at first until she’s tackled by said dog.

“Titus! Get off the pretty girl!” A man, presumably Titus’ owner, screamed. The black Great Dane dropped a red ball by her feet which she picked up and threw while yelling fetch.

“I’m so sorry miss, Titus rarely acts up like that,” Titus’ owner says, sitting down next to her.

“It’s fine I wanted to have a dog since I was young, but lived in a bakery and wasn’t allowed to,” Marinette answered closing her sketchbook.

“My name is Damian and this,” He said, pointing at Titus. “is my faithful companion Titus. I guess I just never taught him how to interact with an angel-like girl.”

“Well I’m Marinette,” she blushed, adorably. “I’m average though. I already forgave you and Titus you don’t have to compliment me.”

“Well truth be told, I never act like this. I’m quite shocked I’m even talking to you. Most people would be gone by now,” Damian confesses. ‘Shut up before she—‘

Marinette giggles at the sight of the flustered boy. He looks hurt so she quickly says. “I’m not laughing at you you’re just adorable when you’re, what I’m assuming, is nervousness.”

“I’m sorry if this is straightforward, but would you like to grab breakfast? I know a small cafe,” Damian said. “You know as an apology for Titus’ behavior.”

“That would be nice. I don’t know anything about the city, but do you think we could stop at my hotel? I want to drop off my book,” Marinette asked, standing. ‘and grab Tikki’.

“Where are you staying?” He asks also standing.

“Hotel of Gotham just a five or so minute walk,” Marinette answered.

“Of course, would you like me to walk with you?” Damian asked.

“That would be lovely. I haven’t quite learned my way around yet,” Marinette said, walking towards the park’s entrance with Damian by her side.

She dropped off her sketchbook, told Tikki what happened and then left with Tikki in her purse. She sees Damian still in the lobby when she got back.

“Hey Mari, you ready?” He asked, opening the door.

“Yes of course,” she said with a smile and they headed to the cafe.

When they got there Damian ordered for both of them, Marinette not knowing what was good or not. He had decided on waffles with strawberries and whipped cream for her. He had ordered himself black coffee and an egg sandwich with cheese and bacon.

“Have you seriously not had waffles before?” Damian asked as she took her first bite.

“My mama and papa owned a bakery so we usually just ate pastries,” Marinette smiles. “But this is incredibly good.”

“So you said you’re just adjusting to Gotham where’d you live before this? What made you want to live in the most dangerous city in America?” Damian asked, sipping his coffee.

“I lived in Paris up to yesterday. I’m currently staying in the hotel till I can find an apartment. And about moving to the most dangerous city in America. I let fate lead me,” Marinette said, taking another bite.

“Fate? But isn’t that a big decision?” Damian asked, raising an eyebrow while sipping his coffee.

“Well I guess, but I didn’t have an idea of where to go, I felt lost and I ended up here, but I was able to get a job already so fate is watching over me. What about you?” Marinette asked, taking a sip of water.

“My mother gave me to my father at the age of ten and he lived here and we just never moved. What job did you get?” Damian asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“This nice woman, Diana, hired me to work in her boutique and she said I could start tomorrow. I’ve wanted to design since I was young,” Marinette sighs.

“Well I’m happy for you,” Damian said as the waiter put the check on their table. Marinette tried to reach for it, but Damian grabbed it before she could grab it.

“Nope. Remember this is an apology for Titus,” Damian said, looking down at his dog, who was sitting under the table quietly.

As they are leaving, Damian gets a call he looks down and sees Dick’s name flash across his screen. “I apologize Marinette, but I must get going. I hope I can see you again.”

Then he rushes off Titus following shortly behind. About a block and a half away he gets into a car with Dick and Alfred, who was driving.

“Good day, Young Master,” Alfred greeted as he closes the door.

“To you as well Alfred. What do you want Grayson? I was busy,” Damian asked, glaring at his adopted brother.

“You’re late for a mandatory meeting. Also,” Dick pauses, a smile forming on his face. “have you checked Twitter recently?”

“I knew about the meeting and I wasn’t going to be late,” Damian huffed, crossing his arms. “I haven’t checked Twitter today, why?”

“Someone posted a picture of you holding a door for a very beautiful bluenette. Jason reposted with the #DemonSpawn’sgirlfriend and now it’s trending,” Dick smirked.

All color left Damian’s face and he whipped his phone then clicked on his Twitter. His face somehow got paler. There was a picture of him and Marinette, he was smiling at her as he held open the hotel door.

@GothamOfficialNews

‘Who is this mysterious girl, who somehow caught Damian Waynes’ attention. He has previously been known as the ‘Ice Prince’, but is there someone out there able to melt his heart? Who is she? We need answers!’

@realJaSonToDd

‘Look it: Demon Spawn got a girlfriend. They grow up so fast *wipes tear*. She’s adorable when can we, @GraysontheDick @BruceWaynetheOffcailMan @TimDrakeConfirmed, meet her?’

@whyisthislife

‘how come it couldn’t have been me, @realDamianWayne?’

@stresseyandmessy

‘She’s too precious for him. also how do we know they’re dating?’

@lifebevibing

‘@stressyandmessy did you read what posted @realJaSonTodD. he said gf. ‘

@stressyandmessy

‘@lifebevibing @realDamainWayne hasn’t said anything about his mystery girl.’

Damian felt like dying. He liked Marinette, a lot. She didn’t act weird around him, she had dreams, she didn’t throw herself at him, she likes Titus, and he hadn’t gotten her number. Wait... he hadn’t gotten her number.

“Crap. I didn’t get her number,” he slouches in his seat.

“Mystery girl’s?” Dick asked, looking shocked. “You spent all morning with her and you didn’t bother to get her number?”

“I didn’t think of it! I was going to ask before you called,” he puts his face in his hands.

“Ya know you could do a Cinderella thing?” Dick suggests, scooting closer to Damian.

“No. That would be so embarrassing. I only met her once,” he pauses, flushing as he thinks of her giggle and her deep blue eyes. “No, I couldn’t do that. She doesn’t know I’m one of Bruce Wayne’s sons. I would like to keep it that way. I don’t think she would change though.”

“Are you blushing? She must be some girl,” Dick teased.

“Ughh you don’t need to remind me,” he sighs.

“Well pull yourself together, we are about to arrive at the meeting,” Dick said, patting Damian’s shoulder.

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Tag list (Open):

@northernbluetongue @melhuney @ladysblackcat @sturchling @otaku4312 @g-arya @smolplantmum @bluefyoto94 @echpr @moonlightstar64@thesunanditsangel @cutechip @heaven428 @elmokingkong @kass-is-weird @niza13149 @urbanpineapplefarmer

#ml New Life AU #damianette #batfam #maribat #lila salt #marinette x damian #ml salt fic #wifiwrites #miraculous au #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x batfam

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mytardisisparked · 4 years

Text

When Sunrise Comes Early: Chapter 4

A/N: Hi. So, this is super delayed, and I am very sorry about that. You see, I kind of wrote myself into a bit of a corner and I was struggling to figure my way out of it. SOMEBODY *glares at Satine* hijacked my story and SOMEBODY ELSE *glares at Mace Windu* did some unexpected things in the narrative that presented a greater challenge in making the story flow than I was prepared for when I began. Now that I have worked my way past that roadblock, I am hoping to provide more regular updates. I can’t guarantee it because I am an easily distracted housecat, but I will do my best and I WILL NOT abandon this story! Thank you once again to everyone who has stuck with this fic, commented, and given me encouragement. I love yall so much.

TL;DR- I’m sorry I suck at updating and I’m going to do better.

Now, on with the story.

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It didn’t take long for Obi-Wan to tell the story of how Palpatine had been captured and explain why they needed the Force-suppressing prison. Throughout his short speech, the Mandalorian council, seated in a semicircle around him, remained silent and unexpressive.

“This is a matter of galactic security,” Obi-Wan said as he wrapped up, “not just an internal Republic, or even Jedi, affair.”

After a moment of silence, Satine rose from her throne. “Thank you, Master Kenobi. We will take some time to discuss what you have told us.”

Obi-Wan tried not to allow himself to become annoyed at the lack of an immediate reaction from the council. Instead, he bowed to the room and took a step back from its focus, looking to Satine for direction.

“Isatol.” She said, summoning the straight-backed guard from just behind her. “Please escort Master Kenobi and his foundling to their quarters.” The duchess’s eyes met Obi-Wan’s with a kind but firm look. “I will summon you when we have reached a decision.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan bowed again and watched in approval out of the corner of his eye as Anakin did the same thing.

The guard lead them down a series of hallways that Obi-Wan frantically attempted to memorize as he matched the quick pace of their tall escort. Eventually, they reached a door that the towering woman opened with a graceful sidestep, allowing the Jedi and his apprentice to enter.

Obi-Wan struggled to keep his jaw from dropping as he took in the loveliness of their quarters. The ceilings were gracefully sloped and creme-colored, which assisted the floor-to-ceiling windows along the far wall in making it feel as if they were outside rather than in. The furniture was simplistic, but elegant; perfect for a Jedi and padawan to meditate. There was a small kitchen where they could make caf or tea, and two bedrooms off of the main room, each with its own bath. The layout and decorations were clearly designed to keep the mind of the resident clear - it was evident that Satine had chosen this room specifically with the needs of a Jedi in mind.

The corners of Obi-Wan’s mouth turned up, unbidden.

Anakin’s reaction was a bit more explosive. The boy gasped dramatically and stepped into the room, spinning around to take it all in.

“It’s huge!” He gaped up at the tall ceiling as Obi-Wan shook his head fondly.

“Yes, Anakin, thank you for stating the obvious,” he teased with no venom. “Why don’t you go unpack?” He gestured to where their rucksacks were already sitting on the floor.

The boy scampered off and Obi-Wan turned back to the door, starting a bit when he realized that the guard was still standing there, studying him with an impassive face.

“Ah, thank you, Isatol.” He gave an awkward bow.

The woman inclined her head in return. “Of course, Master Kenobi.” She straightened quickly and looked him over again, still revealing none of what she was thinking through her face. “You are the Jedi Duchess Satine traveled with during the war.”

That had not been a question, but Obi-Wan still blinked and responded: “Yes. I was a padawan at the time - an apprentice to Master Qui-Gon Jinn.”

Isatol looked him hard in the eyes. “Then you know, as her former guardian, the kind of danger she faces daily from those who oppose her rule. They way people try to manipulate her.”

“I do.”

“Then also know that, as captain of her guardsmen, I will do whatever I must to protect her from any matter of harm.”

Puzzled, Obi-Wan simply nodded. “I understand.”

To his surprise, the woman cracked a half-grin, though it was not entirely friendly. “There is much you don’t understand, Master Jedi. Very much indeed.” Her face returned to it’s neutral starting point. “You have been away from her side for longer than you may realize.”

Confusion growing, Obi-Wan watched as Isatol turned away with a bow and headed back down the hall, her short, dark hair swishing as she went.

Well, that was... threatening?

With a shake of his head, he closed the door and focused back on Anakin, who had just emerged from one of the bedrooms.

“This place is amazing, Master! I love Mandalore!” He grinned and flopped down on the couch.

Obi-Wan smiled gently and kicked the boy’s boots off of the couch, sitting in their place. “It is a lovely city, to be sure.” He paused. “I’m glad to see that you and Korkie got along well.”

Another enthusiastic grin. “Yeah, Korkie’s pretty cool! He’s a little stuffy, but he has a really nice tooka and knows some cool trees to climb in the gardens.”

“I’m glad you two had fun.”

“How about you and the duchess?” Anakin sat up to look his master in the face. “Did you two have a nice talk?”

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a side-eye, gauging his intentions. “Yes, it was nice to catch up with an old friend.”

Thankfully, Anakin didn’t seem to have any underlying suspicions about the nature of his relationship with Satine, as he simply nodded at Obi-Wan’s response and began to talk about the afternoon in fast-paced, intensive detail that made Obi-Wan’s head spin.

The longer the day drew on, the more nervous Obi-Wan became. If this was not an immediate decision, then there had to be conflict. Conflict amongst Satine’s council might not spell good news for the Jedi.

Finally, several hours after they had left the council to debate, Isatol and another tall, redheaded guard came to fetch them back to the throne room.

The occupants of the throne room greeted them with neutral faces as, once again, Obi-Wan was lead to stand in the center of their half-circle.

“We have come to a decision.” Satine spoke from her throne, her tone even. “We will allow the Jedi Council to use our Force-suppressing prison to hold the Sith Lord, Darth Sidious.”

Obi-Wan felt some degree of relief, but it was far overshadowed by the impending “but” he could sense was approaching.”

“However,” ah, there it is, “we feel that, as a neutral system and the owners of this device, the captured Sith Lord should be kept on Mandalore.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach twisted. “I’m afraid the Jedi Council will not be too keen on that idea; Sith fall under Jedi jurisdiction, so we should be the ones to watch over him. That is why we would prefer to keep Sidious on Coruscant.”

One of the light-haired advisors leaned forward. “Be that as it may, this revelation and unmasking of the chancellor has proven that the Republic has some degree of higher-level corruption. We do not trust that the powers of the Sith Lord will not be exploited for nefarious uses.”

Obi-Wan tried not to bristle; he knew that there was some degree of truth to the statement but he didn’t particularly feel that Mandalore had anything to say about corruption when their own civil war was not all that long ago.

“Perhaps,” Satine said before Obi-Wan could disturb the civility with some dry retort, “if the Jedi Council feels that the Jedi should watch over the Sith, a knight could be stationed here on Mandalore to help guard their prisoner.”

The council murmured fervently.

“I don’t believe the people would like the idea of a Jedi on Mandalore, Your Grace,” a dark-haired woman to Obi-Wan’s left sniffed.

“Perhaps not at first,” Satine tilted her head, “but, in time, I believe that this will help heal the broken relationship between our people and forge a more peaceful alliance.”

Although the advisors did not look happy, none of them contested the duchess, who had pinned them all with a hard stare.

“I will have to discuss this matter with the Council, but I feel that arrangement might be something they are willing to consider.” Obi-Wan gave the room a terse smile.

“Excellent. Before you consult your superiors, Master Kenobi, would you be willing to join me for dinner?” She stood and extended a hand towards a hall off of the throne room.

Obi-Wan swallowed. “Of course, Your Grace.”

She simply nodded and walked towards the hallway. “Good. My chef makes an excellent carbonara that I believe you will enjoy.”

As Obi-Wan began to follow her, he caught Isatol’s eye from just behind the duchess, fixing him with a meaningful glare. Before he could react, however, the stern woman followed the duchess out of the room, leaving him to ponder what the Captain of the Mandalorian Guard had against him.

#Obitine #WCSE #Star Wars #The Clone Wars #Obi-Wan #Satine #Anakin #Korkie #OC #Mandalore

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the-headbop-wraith · 4 years

Text

1 _ Whisper

The dream again.

Falling into the black. Crooked spikes stretching up, reaching. Hungry teeth to skewer meat, then it’s all over. Mercifully quick. He couldn’t believe it happened, he hadn’t the strength to stop it. What had happened?

It was all a blur after that. He remembered how cold he felt, how weak he was as Vivi screamed at him. He didn’t understand what had happened at first, if he had been aroused suddenly from a dead sleep. He thought he was asking, nearly begging her to explain.

“What happened? What happened?” But his mind couldn’t coordinate the confusion of words in his throat with his numb lips. Too much pain and his body was impossibly weak. Bright lights burned into his eyes. And Mystery. It was Mystery, wasn’t it? Sitting beside the people jerking at his clothing and jamming needles into his body. He remembered those red eyes staring at him with such clear focus, as if gazing through him and into his soul.

The hot sun dug into his eyelids, making his face feel unnecessarily warm. He opened his eyes a crack and glared through the windshield tilted above him. Judging by the suns position in the sky it had to be a little before noon, but it was hard to decide the specific time of day following the falls hourly time change. He blinked at the wetness in his eyes and reached his hand up to dry his face, but rather rub his eyes gently he smashed the mechanical arm into his nose and prompted him to jolt upright.

“Oh god,” Arthur groaned. He pressed he cold palm to his face to ease the pain. His rash motions upset the dog curled up in his lap, and with a whimper Mystery squirmed around until he was facing Arthur, concern in his eyes. “M’okay.” He reached his flesh hand to the dogs head and scratched behind his ear. “Still not used to this.”

After reassuring his companion, he moved his good arm to drape over the drivers back seat and pulled himself up more to sit. Arthur had the front seats to lay across, while Vivi took the more spacious back. Arthur watched Vivi where she was curled up in a nest of sleeping bag and a blanket, the pillow in her care was a few feet from her head. Arthur pulled up his own blanket, crushed between him and the seats, and carefully this time dabbed at his sticky face.

Mystery gave a low whine as he leaned across his companions lap and nudged his cool nose at the digits of the false arm. Arthur couldn’t feel the fur or the nose, but he could detect the pressure and distress the dog projected his way. Arthur put his arm around the dogs neck and pulled him closer and pressed his face into the soft white fur.

“It’s okay,” Arthur murmured. “It’ll be okay.” Mystery curled up into a tight ball against his chest as he leaned back on the driver’s door. Arthur shut his eyes and worked to ease the sorrow from his mind before Vivi awoke and questioned his broken expression.

The assignment was a relatively simple one. No mention of spiritual hostility but the owners of the home just voiced concerns, they didn’t want to believe that someone had been confined to their home and the activity had been growing more frequent as of late. Arthur had noticed that their group had been given easier and less assignments, but that shouldn’t have come as a great shock. Vivi didn’t seem to mind, he knew she worried about him too much.

They unpacked the essential equipment from the van and hauled the readers and the camera to the upstairs bedroom, where the couple noted most of the activity. Mystery remained in the back keeping an eye on the laptop, that was connected to the camera that was already recording in the house. Arthur swore the dog was looking for something.

“I’m getting some high electric readings from the walls here, where the plugs are, “Vivi said. She held the small electric reader in her hand as the lights flared on the top. “That would easily explain the creepy feelings they’ve been getting.”

Arthur had gone into the bathroom, admiring the cleanliness of the floor and sink area, where the couple had set their towels. “The place was built in the 1800s,” he added. “But it was recently renovated when they moved in,” he paused. “How long ago was that?”

“Two years,” Vivi said. She moved the sensor towards the ceiling fan above the bed. “It correlates with their accounts that the activity had been increasing, since they moved in.”

Arthur did some of the math in his head, but Vivi was the one that kept on top of the local history of their assignments and the finer details of witness accounts. “Did they start renovations before they moved in, or after?”

“Between.” Vivi appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. She lowered the black device gripped in her hand, as she scanned over the walls and mirror. “They had to restore some of the house to make it livable, then finished up after they were settled.”

Arthur tried the faucets and listened as the water rumbled in the pipes somewhere in the walls. The sound was nonspecific, but the couple said they heard voices. “What I wouldn’t give to recount a timeline with the accuracy you have,” Arthur said. He turned the water up full blast and the rumbling stopped.

“I just pay attention,” Vivi said, a slight shrug and the hint of a smirk in her lips. “Nice bathroom.”

“You do more than that,” Arthur insisted. “I’m terrible with dates and history and… keeping facts straight in my head.”

Vivi opened the cupboard nearest to the bathrooms doorway and knelt to examine the interior. Freshly folded towels were stacked inside, a few shampoo bottles and some bars of packaged soap met her eyes. The silver pipes in the back looked solid. “You’re great with the equipment,” she said, and giggled. “I can barely update my iPod without it crashing. Thanks, by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” Arthur said. Whenever her iPod did freeze up, which was too often in his opinion, Arthur would troubleshoot it for her. He shut off the water and listened. “Hey, Vivi?”

“Yeah?” She stood up. In the walls there was a faint rattle as somewhere in the pipes the pressure stabilized after use. Vivi raised the electro gauge towards the bright lamps above the mirror and registered a high increase in current. “Looks like this might just be your typical case of shoddy restoration. Arthur?” She turned to him when he failed to continue after her prompt. “What’d you need?”

Arthur shakes his head. “Er, ah— The owners left the attic open for us. Sorry,” Arthur said, smiling. “I was thinking over the interior layout of the house, and it seems like common draft through vents in the roof. Maybe we should check that out next?”

“Good plan.” Vivi closed the cupboards and exited the bathroom. “After running the water, we might get some interesting sounds.”

With a sigh Arthur followed. “Yeah. That’s what I meant.” As he moved past the windows he couldn’t resist a glance at his arm, glinting under the bright light beside his amber vest.

The assignment turned out more successful than Vivi and Arthur had initially thought. A lot of their paranormal investigations turned out to be nothing but the usual in old homes and unkempt buildings - the foundation settling, old uninsulated wiring, even bats in the walls; there were the few cases of sham artists with tape recorders that played from hidden spaces or rigging designed to catch the camera at a specific moment. A lot of disappointments, but the college funded their research regardless if anything was found. Sometimes exposing the falsities was enough as far their providers was concerned, but it was no satisfaction to find out their time had been wasted with overactive imaginations.

It was far into the night, Arthur was fueling himself with endless cups of bitter coffee while Vivi sat in the back of the van roving over the laptop and the evidence she was checking. While she listened for electronic voices, she worked with duplicates of all the images gathered trying to edit out the fuzziness of the night vision cameras.

“Arthur,” Vivi piped, as she leaned over the drivers seat. “What does this sound like to you?” She set the laptop down on the passengers seat and fitted the ear muffs over his ears, as Arthur kept his attention of the dark shapes of the forest around them. This was a common ritual as they drove, which was reason why he took the longer and sometimes outdated back roads. Arthur tilt his head as he focused on the loud scratching filled his ears of the raised volume. He was wary that a sudden sound would shut through his brain of something unnamed, usually someone’s heightened whisper as he or Vivi asking questions.

The voice that came through was an older woman, not Vivi by a long shot, not the home owners that had been outside at the time. Arthur had adjusted his senses well to identifying white noise that came through the electric recording and easily distinguished between a falsified recording and the genuine paranormal.

“Sounds like, ‘made the garden,’” Arthur finally said. “Weird.”

“I know, that’s what I thought.” Vivi slipped the ears muffs off Arthur’s head and raised up the laptop from the passengers seat. Mystery watched from his elected spot on the middle seat, curled beside Arthur’s leg. “That would correlate to the images I’m working on, the one’s of the figure staring out the master window into the backyard. It’s sweet if you think about it.”

Arthur smiled. “You mentioned that the house was uninhabitable when the new owners first bought it?” he said, his smile widening.

“Yeah, I did.” Vivi went ahead and double checked her current data, before closing the programs and shutting the laptop down. “Total wreck,” she went on. “Renovations would’ve cost nearly as much as the home itself. The yard was dead, full of weeds and junk. Then the owners moved in, cleaned it up.” Vivi stuffed the laptop up under the passengers seat, before she crawled over cushion to sit beside Mystery. Vivi set her hand between the dogs shoulder blades and scratched as he uncoiled and sat up. “Mrs. Ricewell wanted a garden.”

Vivi let her voice trail off, as Arthur poured himself another cup of lukewarm coffee. “Sounds straightforward to me,” he said. His metal hand fumbled to hold the plastic cup as he lifted it from the cup holder and to his lips, careful not to spill again. “Nothing hostile. Just there because the house was restored. I think that just sometimes happens.” Arthur took another sip and winced. The coffee was terrible.

“Hmm?” Vivi asked.

“Energy, I think. Like a battery,” Arthur said. He lowered the cup back to the cup holder; Vivi helped him guide his arm when it was apparent his aim was off. “I’ve been thinking up some theories for our separate report’s, and did my own research on places that have been abandoned. Other paranormal researches support the idea too, that activity kicks back up in a home again if people start to fix up the place. A house with no running energy, no people, it starts to degrade and maybe any spirits there begin to drift away. Spiritual energy has to be powered by something, it doesn’t make sense that a ghost is there just because.”

Vivi pondered over this as the van rumbled down the old road. The headlamps illuminated the skeletal trees and brush struggling to claim the earth that was paved over, in time there wouldn’t be a road here and the area would be forgotten. Aside from the soft light inside the vehicle there was no other radiance this far out from town and the stars blazed among wistful clouds with the backdrop of the dazzling quarter moon, outlining the gnarled tree branches with a golden haze. The sky beneath the moon, perhaps seared by some far off town, was a bubbling fuchsia beneath the dark sky.

“That would explain why activity kicks up when were around, if there’s any,” Vivi said. “You need to figure out a way to make dampers for the equipment, so spirits don’t tap into the batteries. It’s getting expensive to pack spares for just in case.”

“Good idea,” Arthur said, smirking her way. “Can’t believe I never thought of that.”

Vivi returned the smile. “That’s why we make such a great team,” she said. She gave Mystery a scratch on his shoulder when he leaned her way and yipped. “You too Mystery. You keep us from staying mad at each other.”

Arthur was about to reach over and take another swig of his coffee, when the engine faltered under his feet. He hesitated as the lamplights pulsed and the low rumble of the motor began to sputter out. “Oh no,” he muttered, raising a foot to the break to disengage cruise. “No-no… don’t do this.” He brought his hand back from the steering wheel when a bright flash zipped through his eyes and the interior light of the cab dimmed, leaving the impression of red in his retinas. “C’mon, don’t do this.” He pressed his foot to the gas and turned to give Vivi a defeated look as the lights dimmed once more.

“Arthur,” she said. “Did you fill up the tank like I told you to?”

“I did. I did!” he pleaded, grinning sheepishly. “I’m sure I did.” Arthur wasn’t so certain at this time, as the engine gave a final whine, then died completely. “Yeah,” he urged. “I remember putting the receipt in my pocket.”

“Then what could be the problem?” Vivi watched the erratic movement of the boo charm as it began to twist to a stop. She leaned forward opening the glove back in front of her and dug through the papers and spare battery boxes until her hands snapped over the flashlights handle. She handed the flashlight to Arthur as he reached under the steering wheel, feeling for the release handle with his good arm. “We’ve never had trouble with the van before.”

“I know,” he mumbled. The handle creaked as he jerked it out and the hood of the van thudded. “I’ll give it a look, see if something came loose. This roads not in the best of shape.”

Vivi watched as Arthur got out. When he shut the door, his beam bobbing under the dull haze of the night, she shared a glance with Mystery. “It’ll be all right,” she cooed. “he’ll be right back.” Mystery let out a soft whine that startled Vivi in its evident distress.

The hood of the van snapped up and Vivi watched the dark panel as the light bobbed around the sides and through the tight crease at the base of the windshield. She could hear Arthur fiddle around, his metal arm making audible clanking as he snapped it to the edge of the van whenever he leaned forward to fiddled with wires with his good arm. It seemed like hours that he worked and Vivi in that time had rested her hand on Myster’s head massaging his scalp, while the dog no doubt bore holes through the van’s hood to where Arthur stood. Finally, the hood swept down with a harsh snap and Arthur rounded the side to the driver’s side door.

“Can you give me some 99?” he asked, holding the flashlight as Vivi reached for the cup holders. They had a pump bottle of disinfectant in one of the cupholders, and Vivi leaned over to squirt the jelly liquid on his flesh palm. She pulled up a blue bandanna from the passenger doors pocket, the cloth had numerous dark stains on it and she used it to rub the grease off of Arthur’s hand.

“Thank you,” he said. He set the flashlight on the driver’s seat, and took the cloth when it was offered to him and cleaned off his metal knuckles. “I couldn’t find anything wrong with the engine. Absolutely nothing.”

Vivi thought over this as she watched him in the dark. Cool air breezed in through the open door, the night was filled with the scent of dirt and oil. “I’ll see if I can call a tow truck,” she said at last. Arthur made a sound under his breath but didn’t argue. Arthur moved the flashlight aside as he climbed up into the driver’s seat and shut the door. Vivi climbed over the seat into the back hunting for the phone. “Can you hand me the light?”

Arthur looked over as the light swung up when Mystery picked it up and handed it back to Vivi. She thanked the dog, and Arthur slumped down in his seat a little more. He ran through his mind all the methods he had used to replace and maintain the van, he was a trained mechanic and about a third of the engine was digital. It made no sense, and it annoyed him. Arthur kept his irritation to himself.

After several minutes, Vivi climbed back over the seat with the light while her thumb jammed at the touch screen of the phone. “No signal,” she said.

The three shared a collective sigh. For what felt like hours they sat debating a plan separately, not speaking until they had run through all the ideal scenarios until they had gathered a potential solution.

“We could tie Myster’s collar to the front bumper and have him pull us,” Arthur suggested. To this the dog growled, eyes flashing in the soft light of the flashlight at his paws. “Kidding. Kidding. Touche.”

“Or,” Vivi says, smoothing down Mystery’s raised ears, “you can put the van in neutral and push us for a bit. Maybe we’re just in a ditch?”

For a while Arthur said nothing, only gazed forward into the black daggers of trees and flat nothing. He nodded. “Knew you were going to suggest that,” he said. Arthur took the gear shift and struggled with the handle, it felt like it was fighting him. He adjusted the keys in the ignition trying to release the lever, partly he hoped the engine would just roar to life. He managed to unstick the handle and switched the van to neutral. As Arthur climbed out, Vivi hopped to the driver seat.

“Be careful, Arthur,” she urged. “Don’t strain yourself too much.”

“I know, I know.” Arthur braced his toes to the road and gripped the frame of the door. Nothing happened for a while, until he grunted and adjusted his stance to a more comfortable position. Slowly, the van creaked forward. “Having fun?” he snorted.

“Not really,” Vivi confessed. They gained momentum and she became worried that they were heading up a hill that was steeper than she first anticipated. “Remember what I said.”

“I’m okay. Just let me concentrate.” Arthur felt his heart pounding, his left side throbbed where the compromised veins detoured circulation in his body. “Maybe you and Mystery should get out,” he panted. “Follow the van. It might help.”

There was a pause, Arthur didn’t try to study the expression on Vivi’s face, not in the dark. He remained focused on the road and the rubber tires crunching gravel. At last with hesitance she says, “You think that might really help?”

“I’m just kidding,” he said, with a hint of a chuckle. “I’ll quit here in a second. Have you gotten a signal on the phone?”

He saw the flutter of light in the corner of his eye as no doubt Vivi checked the phone at his prompt. Arthur felt something of relief when she gasped, but he didn’t expect her next exclamation.

“Art. Look!” Arthur raised his head and saw a shape down the road. An ambiguous and large shape with flat sides, in contrast with the sharp twisted angles of the surrounding woods. At first he couldn’t decide what it was Vivi wanted him to see, but as his eyes adjusted he could make out the soft tones of pink brushed down the sweeping sides of flat surfaces. Above the knotted tree branches curled the jagged horizon of symmetrical points across the top, dark slates slopped downward and glimmered beneath the moon. He felt a surge of adrenalin in his body as his mind began to place what the shape was that should be obvious to his eyes. “I’m not imagining it, am I?” Vivi said, skepticism in her tone. It was dark, it would be easy for the wishful mind to conjure an auto repair shop in the middle of the thick woods. But no, Arthur could see fully what Vivi was staring at.

“No,” Arthur huffed, trying to catch his breath. “It’s a house maybe?”

“More than a house,” Vivi went on. “A mansion.” She gazed unmoving for several minutes, as Arthur panted and strained with the heavy vehicle. “You wanna stop now?”

Arthur glanced up, saw the high wall glide from the black tangle of dry shrubs and grass. “No,” he assured. “Just a few more feet, then I’ll stop.” He regretted that almost immediately. The building was much further away than he anticipated, and more than once he debated on just stopping where they were.

“We’re here, Art. You can stop now.” Vivi reached over to grip his shoulder as his feet began dragging over the asphalt. “Sorry, it looked a lot closer than it was.”

Arthur leaned against the door as he caught his breath, his knees trembled now that he had stopped. “Yeah,” he said. “Things always change perspective in the dark. Dumb.”

“You okay?” Vivi asked, still holding his shoulder as he shuddered and gasped. “You’re not gonna collapse, are you?”

Arthur laughed and choked on his breath. “I’m not delicate china, Vi. Just a little out of breath.” He felt his metal arm slump at his side and leaned its way. “How’s the phone?”

There was a flash in his eyes as the screen pulsed on. “Better than you,” Vivi answered. “But still no sig— Shit.”

Arthur grimaced as he looked up. “Don’t tell me.”

“No power.” They said in unison. Mystery gave a soft whimper and shuffled around in the passenger seat. “Fuck,” Arthur muttered.

Vivi sighed and set the phone down in the cup holder with the disinfectant. “Let’s stay optimistic,” Vivi says, “and presume that whatever can go wrong at this point, must.”

“Yeah.” Arthur felt some of his strength come back and stood straight, turning to the tall building that they were stationary before. He blinked at the haze of the windows, the dark bronze coloration of the roof and ascents of the front door. A cold tingle worked up his spine and he visibly shook. “Place is spooky,” he said, louder than he meant too.

Nothing was said for a long time and a harsh silence fell over them, as if the dark windows and walkway of the home was judging their presence. It was an eerie sensation and Arthur decided he was the only one that felt it. Arthur jumped when Vivi broke the silence with a sudden statement.

“We should go inside.” Vivi nudged Arthur as she lowered down from the drivers seat, he stepped back as her feet crunched the dirt underfoot. The car doors clicked when she hit the unlatch button and she moved along the vans side to the back.

Arthur stuttered, “What?” He saw Mystery’s white fur skip through the light of the flashlight as he took up the torch and dropped from the open door of the cab. “Someone probably lives there.”

“You’re probably right,” Vivi says, around the back door of the van. Arthur leans through the driver’s side door as she climbs inside. “But it looks abandoned.”

Arthur glanced back at the yard under the bright glow of the moon and the cobblestone path that led up, toward the shimmering front of large doors that were ornate with stylized, lace frame beneath the forward facing balcony. Staring at the home, it seemed much large and imposing as he gawked at.

“Looks abandoned doesn’t always mean abandoned,” Arthur snapped. “I can push the van a little further up the road, it wouldn’t be trouble. Besides, it’s probably filthy inside. Could be infested with insects and mold. C’mon Vi, I don’t like the looks of this place.”

The beam of the flashlight hovered towards him and behind Mystery was the girl in blue, her rosy glasses caught the diverted light below her knees. “Let’s check it out, first,” Vivi said, touching his metal wrist. “You never like the looks of any place that looks deserted.” He looked away as she leaned towards him, seeking his eyes in the dark. “I’m sure the place isn’t as gloomy as it looks,” she says. “I think there are lights on inside.”

“It might just be the flashlight,” Arthur said. He reached down and took the torch from Mystery’s mouth. Arthur turned the light towards the front lawn and ran the dim beam over the front posts of the door and the shingles that made up the walls. “And some of the windows are boarded up.” He felt a cotton bag pressed into his chest, and wrapped his arms around the sack. “Is this the holy water?”

“And charms, and dispel,” Vivi responds, as she moves to the back of the van again. “We’ll take a quick peek inside and if it’s as dilapidated as you reason, we can just come right back out. No more than five minutes.” Arthur can hear her rummage around, most likely searching for the sleeping bags. “Can you bring the light over?”

“Three,” Arthur says. He shines the light over her shoulder as she gathers her overnight bag and jams a folded blanket through the arm loops. “But any sound, and sort of scuffling that sounds like a rodent and we are gone.”

“Four and a half,” Vivi counters. She grabs his bag and slides it towards him. “But I’d feel a lot better if you were there with me. It’d be lonely if Mystery and I were in there alone.” Vivi reaches down to stroke Myster’s head as he leans up towards her.

Arthur groans, “Why do you have to be so assertive?” He frowns as Vivi kneels before him and pinches his cheek.

“Because one of us has to be,” she says, a smile beaming off her lips. Vivi struggles to life his bag and her own, but Arthur takes her heavier bag and steps back. As Vivi steps off the back bumper, Arthur turns the soft yellow haze of the flashlight to the cracked tarmac. “Don’t—” Vivi begins, before she’s cut off by Arthur’s voice.

“It’s cool. I’m not going to break myself,” Arthur snaps. “The only thing breaking around these parts is my masculinity. Really Vi, if I need help I’ll ask.” He slings her bag of her shoulder, and holds the flashlight and the sack of paranormal supplies in his metal arm. He turns and adjusts the light on the road broken by age and stringy weeds.

“Sometimes you forget to ask,” Vivi says at his back. “That’s what worries me.”

Arthur turns back but neglects to frame her with the flashlight. Mystery mulls around Athur’s feet, as he studies Vivi’s outline under the golden cast of the moon. Vivi stares through the dark at him and Arthur detects that uncanny sense of being seen through. After a moment he says nothing, instead he turns away towards the looming edifice before them.

When the doors slam shut Arthur calls back, “Can you see well enough?” Vivi’s beside his shoulder and hums a confirming sound. Side by side they move forward, bundles of cloth shifting and whispering as they struggle not to drop something onto the dusty cobblestone steps. In the vapor of the light Mystery’s outline glimmers as he trots ahead leading the two, head forward and ears high. Arthur takes his eyes off the dog and stares up as the mansion seems to rise and swell at their approach, as though taking a defensive stance to their intrusion.

The home felt much closer than it actually was and the path seemed to lead up and up with each step, the sensation boggled Arthur’s mind. A familiar chill began to work at the base of his spine and he shuddered, despite how hot his blood had become from exerting himself with pushing the van. The twisting unease built in his gut the closer they moved to the porch, and in the dark glass above the carved wood of the front door Arthur was certain he saw a glimmer of red.

“You okay?” Arthur asked. His voice was soft and nearly cracked, but Vivi didn’t catch the distress.

“Yeah. It’s a beautiful old home,” she said.

Arthur could’ve cried. Beautiful, she had called it. Many dangerous places could be beautiful and deadly all in the same structure. Was it the intent of animals that contained fatal poisons to mesmerize the gullible as they scurried away? Or was it to intentionally attract the weak minded, and eliminate those disastrous genes from the infinite line of descendants to follow? He didn’t want it to be true, it couldn’t be.

He felt a mild vibration on his arm and swung the flashlight beam enough to see Vivi, her hand wrapped around the wrist band of his metal arm. “I’ll get the door,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Arthur said back, unsure if he had said anything at all. He raised the light to the tarnished metal of the door handle as Vivi moved forward. Arthur glanced around as the latch clanked under Vivi’s grip. The shadow of the house felt icy, but it was fall and shrouded areas seemed to shelter frigid pools from the sun. He jerked his head, certain Mystery had moved behind him but there was no shape or shadow there.

“Arthur?” Vivi sounded confused.

“Sorry.” Arthur raised the light back to the handle, and where Vivi with Mystery stood coated in dark shades and hazy fuchsia.

Vivi shielded her eyes from the sudden light. She had set his bag beside the door as the pressed her shoulder to the old oak. “No. I—” She stopped and sighed. “Never mind. Just my imagination.” As Arthur choked out a sound, she gave a hard shove to the rough wood with her shoulder and the doors snapped open, as if cracked apart after centuries of desertion. “Got it! Can you bring the light in over here?”

With little coaxing Arthur shuffles forward, his metal arm latched over his chest and the provision bag, fingernails digging into his palm around the handle of Vivi’s bag.

The interior of the house was icy and Arthur almost expected to see his breath as he stepped into the oppressive gloom. The bulb of light from the torch fell onto velvety rich, red carpet. It rasped under Vivi’s feet as she stepped through the threshold into the black entrance hall. “Wait for me,” Arthur called, hurrying after her and Mystery. The sense of foreboding had faded completely, but it didn’t feel right. In its place was left a vacant and isolated sensation, and Arthur instantly mourned the loss of accusation the front windows had piled on his subconscious.

“It’s not so bad in here,” Vivi said. She stood center of the carpet, Mystery had stopped to sit close beside her feet. “I thought it’d be dusty and dank, but no. It’s almost, homey.”

The atmosphere was deafening and contained, evolving into a sense of suspension where time became meaningless. Arthur passed the torch beam over the blue wall paper and the tiled floor beneath the carpet. It was just a long hall. He adjusted the light, trying to identify what hazards might lay in their path. The beam of light instead caught Mystery’s gaze as the white face turned to meet his eyes, the look caused Arthur to freeze. It was peculiar and unnatural, an expression that a dog’s face should not be able to fabricate and the suggestion of it startled Arthur at first before he recognized the actual shape of Mystery where he sat. He had only a few seconds to register it was the dog with the red collar, before the soft vapor of light of the torch sputtered and dimmed. Vivi’s voice broke through the crushing silence, before a loud swoosh filled the foyer followed by the ear splinting boom of the doors. The tremor of vibrations faded from their minds as the moonlight from outside and the torch of the flashlight, were cut off completely. A ringing persisted, and Arthur recognized the sound of blood pulsing through his eardrums in the complete absence of sound and dimension.

No one made a sound, no one moved. No matter how Arthur strained his eyes could not perceive the wall of black that filled his eyes. After years of waiting, Arthur believes he has been left behind. He takes a breath of the sharp air and is about to cry out, when he catches hold of Vivi’s voice very near his side.

“Arthur,” she whispers. “Arthur. Do you see that?” She points, but he can’t see anything. Her voice is comfort enough, and he feels reassured. Arthur is about to reach out for Vivi, when his eyes too lock on what she must have found.

At first it looked like the glimmer of her glasses, but it was high up towards the ceiling of the room somewhere in the dark. The thick haze around it illuminates as the wavering flame dips and sways in nothingness with no visible tether. Their eyes follow the slow motion of the fuchsia orb as it glides downward to greet its guests.

#mystery skulls #msa #msa fanfic #mystery skulls fanfic #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls ghost #msa arthur #msa vivi #headbop wraith

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pynkhues · 4 years

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can i in like, a very chill, no pressure kinda way ask about when you think you'll update any fics? all the bts talk that you do (im embarrassed to say how often i check your 'my fic' tag) had me super excited about all fics you're working on!!!

Hi! Thank you! You’re totally making me blush, haha, and it’s no pressure at all. It’s always so nice to hear people want to read my writing! :-) I have four things at the moment which are literally so close to being finished it’s ridiculous, but I keep bouncing between them, so they’re all just inching forwards instead of actually, y’know. Getting done, haha. Those are Two Shoes (S3! Beth and Rio do some undercover dancing!), Blue Moon (my very late prompt-a-thon fill about Ruby), Stupid Cupid (C&C Valentines fic) annnnd the first chapter of What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have aka the pirate!AU.

Slightly less close (but also close!) are the last parts of Cross Your Fingers and the second part of See You in the Light.

I’m hoping to get one or two of these up over the next few days? But I feel like I’ve been saying that for a couple of weeks at this point, haha, so yes. Something will be up soon, but I’m just not quite sure how soon ‘soon’ is unfortunately.

In the mean time, if you like, you can have the first scene of the pirate!AU?

(It’s p long, so I’ve popped it behind a cut :-) )

Lady Elizabeth Boland is of half a mind to retire to her chambers, despite the early hour, when she notices her grandmother’s vase is missing from the buffet in the receiving hall.

It’s enough to make her pause, tilt her head to the side, her hand dropping to her waist as she walks towards the thing, letting her gaze cover every conspicuous inch of it. She takes in the lace runner and the baluster brass candle sticks, the curved crystal regulator clock and the pink glass oil lamp bottle, but alas.

Not so much as a fractured shard of her grandmother’s vase.

“Benjamin,” she calls, her eyes fixed still on the buffet, willing any annoyance away. She really shouldn’t distract her sweet nephew from his studies, but the fact of the matter is that this is not an isolated incident.

Two weeks ago, it had been her grandfather’s cufflinks she’d intended for Kenneth, disappeared from her jewellery box, and then only the other evening it had been the cradle gifted to her upon the birth of her first daughter from an associate of her lord husband’s. The latter, she hoped at least, would not be missed, for with four children already tucked upstairs in their beds, Beth prayed nightly her anticipating days were over.

“Benja - - !”

A blond head pops out over the bannister above her, and Beth jumps only briefly, dropping her hand to her chest.

“Oh, there you are! You startled me!”

“Sorry, Aunt Beth,” he hums, looking curiously down at her from the second floor. He’s still dressed in his smart little suit from school – a pressed, blue slack with a woollen vest, his brogues neatly polished and sticking out to overhang her through the bannister rails. “Are you okay?”

Making a small noise of affirmation, Beth gestures with her free hand to the buffet in front of her, hoping Benjamin can see well enough from above.

“Your great grandmother’s vase is gone. You wouldn’t happen to know if Kenneth or Daniel had anything to do with it, would you?”

“Are you asking me to inform on my cousins, aunty?” Benjamin asks with a grin, and Beth can’t help but smile back, trying to school her look into something a little more innocent.

“Never. I’m simply asking my favourite nephew a question.”

“I’m your only nephew,” he replies wryly, before shrugging up above her. “Besides, if they did, they probably deserve to get away with it. I hadn’t seen either of them before supper. Kenneth was out at Lord Milson’s until then, and Daniel and Miss Emma were practicing the duet they’re performing at your lord husband’s salon next month. I could hear them the whole while, even through the wall.”

Beth turns the thought over in her head. Jane hadn’t been out of her sight the entire afternoon either, so it couldn’t have been her youngest. She bites the inside of her cheek, training her ear just enough she hears the cook maid packing away the crockery in the kitchen, the clip of trotting horses and the gristly roll of carriage wheels on the road outside of here, but no other footsteps above her, nor any hint that her children lay awake and conspiring. She drops her hands to her hips, glancing back up at Benjamin above her.

“Is your mother home?”

He shakes his head no.

“She went out with Mr. Brown a few hours ago. She said they had to pick something up.”

And right, Beth thinks, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She knows exactly what that means. As if her sister hadn’t disgraced the Marks’ already slighted name enough with having Benjamin out of wedlock (a bastard – the fact of it had practically killed their mother – not that their mother had exactly been a model of virtue either, but still), she insisted on making a mockery of the Boland name too by engaging in such indiscretions beneath Beth’s very own roof.

She huffs out a breath.

“Well, I guess the matter will have to wait until morning, won’t it?”

Benjamin nods in agreement, but waits until Beth’s formal dismissal to disappear back into his bedroom, and well. It’s not long until Beth’s moving to her own, up the stairs and down the hall, ringing the bell for the maid to attend her in the process.

It likely has been broken, she thinks. The vase.

If not through the children, then through Annie, or perhaps one of the servants. Likely a simple accident – a knock against the buffet, enough to wobble it and leave it shattered against the floor of the receiving hall, but - -

The cufflinks, she reminds herself.

And the cradle.

Beth frowns, stepping into her bedroom and sitting down at her dresser. She removes her delicate golden earrings, her treasured pearl necklace, the pins that fasten her hair up in its curls, laying them each gently in the hollow of her jewellery box – the small, carved rosewood chest being one of the few things she’d brought with her when Dean had wed her near twenty years ago. It had been a blessing, that much she’d known even then, or rather, not so much a blessing, but a mutually beneficial match.

The Boland’s had been new money after all – Mr. Boland Sr. having thrived in the business of horse carriages, custom designing some of such quality and innovation, he had risen social ranks with unheard of haste, and it hadn’t been long before talk flooded town of the eligibility of his tall, strong and handsome son. He’d had some uncouthness of course, everyone knew that, but the promise was that that could be trained out of him with the right wife, and a good, old family, and - - well.

The Marks’ had been a family in decline, hadn’t they? Their wealth so whittled away by bad investments and her father’s penchant for gambling, although one still – at the time at least – of strong social standing and honour. When Mr. Boland Sr. had spotted Beth, still just sixteen, at a soiree at Lady Hazel’s, and proposed the match, her father had insisted they could do better, but her mother, bitter even then, had known they couldn’t hope to.

Beth glances down at her gaudy wedding ring, twisting it on her finger, wondering if perhaps she could get away with removing it – if only for an hour or two, when Dorothy appears in her doorway.

“You rang, ma’am?”

Quickly moving her hands, Beth gestures behind her to the back of her dress, rising steadily to her feet in the process. Picking up on the cue as she always does, Dorothy crosses the master bedroom – passing the large, four poster bed, soft gold chaise, the ottoman, Dean’s locked cabinet – to Beth’s spot at her dresser, her aging fingers making quick work of unhooking each little eyelet on the back of Beth’s gown.

The cool fall air chills her skin, nipping above her many petticoats before slipping below as Dorothy pulls them off and puts them aside, the stiffer ones and the softer, then the bustle, before finding the laces of her corset and making as quicker work as she can. Beth swallows in a rich, full breath as the thing loosens, her ribs singing in gratitude, her waist softening too sweetly as Dorothy finally pulls it off too.

Leaving Beth in just her chemise, stockings, garter and drawers, Dorothy takes a step back, finding Beth’s robe from the closet, draping it over her, before tilting her head, directing her out into the hall.

“We’ve rest the bath in front of the fire, my lady,” Dorothy tells her, and Beth nods. Now that the season has started to chill, it’s best to bathe before the larger fire in the library instead of in her and Dean’s chambers. She allows Dorothy to lead her out, unable to quite help peering into each of the children’s rooms as she passes, catching their little forms curled in each of their little beds, their soft snores and snuffles barely audible over the crackle of the fire in the distance and the slosh of the water the servants are pouring into the tub.

Dorothy closes the door to the library, and Beth sucks in a warm breath, dropping her robe from her shoulders and feeling her nipples pebble beneath the brisk fall air. She slips out of the last of her clothes, and down into the portable tub, exhaling as the languid water engulfs her.

“Will that be all for now?” Dorothy asks, and Beth blinks over at her, the steam through the dark briefly ensnaring the other woman. She should ask her about the vase, Beth thinks, but then perhaps not. She’d asked after the cuff links and the cradle after all, and much more interrogation could lead to unhappiness amongst the staff. Annie had told her stories after all, of other houses, where servants spat in food or dropped hems from dresses, and Dorothy hadn’t seemed to know anything about the other things anyway.

But of course, there was the other question.

Beth clutches at the rim of the tub, tilting up her chin as she clears her throat.

“Has Lord Boland sent word of when we might expect him home tonight?”

A pause.

Beth looks, breath caught, and Dorothy wrings her hands.

“No, my lady.”

And well.

Beth waves out her own hand, dismissing her.

#my fic #what the sea wants the sea will have #welcome to my ama #inyoursheets

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youarejesting · 5 years

Text

Femme: 16

IMPORTANT: There is a TXT side story in the works and any social media mentioned in Femme will be posted in a separate section in my master list. Just to enhance the reading experience, to be able to see everything y/n posts throughout the story.

[MASTERLIST]

Summary: The year is now 3019. Women were going extinct, cryogenics was the only hope for society. Now Femme Industries is the provider of Females, they use computer analysis and algorithms to match a femme to her male applicants. It is common for femme’s to match with multiple applicants. When you match with seven handsome young men, it is a challenge. But you love a challenge.

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader, Bigbang x GDragon

Starring: Bigbang, GOT7, TXT, BlackPink, NCT127 and Twice are going to be introduced and explored fully in later chapters. Rating: Fluff so far

Warnings: Attempted theft, Attempted abduction

Length: 1.5k words

The excitement of stepping outside wasn’t lost but you were so familiar with the surrounding area, you had no hesitation. Following the directions on your phone you were walking past a bakery, it smelt delicious. Admiring the window display of cakes and other sweet and savory pastries, you saw through the window a familiar face. Jimin was serving a customer boxing up a young boy’s birthday cake. Using your phone to take a quick photo you giggled and continued on course. It took a while but you arrived at the uniform store, the owner greeted you with a curious smiling looking around the store for something.

“Hi I am coming to pick up some uniforms for work, it’s an ice cream van its pink” You smiled trying to catch the owners wandering eyes even turning to see what he was looking for behind me. Seeing nothing you turned back and pressed on. “I am looking for at least two uniforms, in a similar pink to the van”

“Of course, we have the logos and colors for the uniform ready, as we have provided uniforms for many years now. This is the new designed shirts for the old man, the frozen spoon’s logo in white on a pink button up. It’s an old school vibe from the old school diner days. The aprons a white with the logo in pink. Uhhhh… what exactly are you looking for?” He said never once making eye contact with you but staring out the door and shop windows. “Is he a bigger man, smaller man?”

“It is for me, I work there” you said and his eyes finally met yours, in shock. He seemed shocked and apologized bringing out a small book of options you found a really cute outfit and smiled. “This one please in the pink but can you make it with a peter pan collar in white and the same for this band around the cap sleeve, pleated skirt to the top of my knee and can I get a white apron like this.” You quickly googled what you were thinking and showed him and he nodded writing it down.

“Okay give me a minute to get the machine started but they should be ready in about 10 minutes is that too long, do you have somewhere else to be?” He said starting up the machine and a touch screen lit up. He placed the fabric roll on a handle and threaded into the machine, this was something you had never seen. Before it was like a giant fabric printer, he added the white fabric to a second roll holder and moved to the touch screen.

“Okay you said primary color is the dress, secondary is the collar and sleeve edge, you asked for pleated, would you like to confirm this is what you are after” He said and you looked at the machine and told him it was perfect, “would you like buttons or a zip the fabric is pretty stretchy?”

“No just something easy to pull on in the morning, nothing complicated” he nodded and declined the buttons and zips option. Adding the logo face up in the logo slot he selected left breast logo. He guided you too a machine that took your measurements, stepping out he hit start and walked to another machine.

The machine started pulling the fabric you could barely hear anything, but suddenly you heard the distinct sound of machine sewing. You were absolutely amazed, this had to be the coolest piece of technology you had ever seen. Reading a code from a costume book and typing it into the other machines touch screen, he turned, “is the type of apron you were looking for”

You looked and agreed with the design, he transferred your body dimensions and he set it to the knee. You asked him if perhaps you could get it an inch shorter than the skirt length. Altering it an inch and receiving your approval, he started the second machine with a white fabric. The first machine was attaching the collar, sleeve and logo before it beeped and the dress was taken out it looked beautiful. The man told you, there was enough money on the account for a three in total. You agreed to make three, he folded each neatly as they came out.

The process took just over ten minutes and he handed you one to try on and sent you to a room, you quickly got changed and looked in the mirror feeling very cute. It was very much what you were going for and you hoped to show the boys at home as well. Posting a quick picture to your social media you got a response almost instantly.

Heading outside you decided to head home when a man grabbed your bag and ran, chasing after him, you were yelling. “Give me back my bag, I swear. I’m not going to stop” Someone tackled him and snatched the bag and the guy scrambled away and you went to pursue him when a small young man grabbed your arm.

“Leave him, he is just hungry. Here is your bag” He said gesturing in the general direction of the unsuccessful thief. He was really pretty with such androgynous features. He wore a uniform like the boys next door. It must have been after school judging by the sun getting lower in the sky.

“Thank you for helping me, you are really nice” you gave him a genuine smile and dusted off his school jacket. You two spoke for a little while before you looked around confused, you had no idea which way you had come from. He smiled pulling your bag over his shoulder.

“This way Noona” He threw you a smile and you followed him back, talking the whole way and it was then that you noticed that you hadn’t run this far had you. He was busy telling you about his experience with bad guys. You both rounded a corner and you were a hundred percent this is the wrong way.

You stopped and his shoe scrapped the pavement when he stopped. You voiced your opinion on the directions and thanked him, asking for your bag. He seemed very sorry rubbing the back of his neck, “Mianhae. Here, is your bag” He handed it over and when you reached in to grab your phone when he spoke. “I am sorry, they are bad people like you said, I have no choice, or they will hurt me”

A group of five guys appeared behind you, trying to play it cool. They weren’t fooled. Your breathing was erratic and you were nervously looking around. They advanced slowly and you stayed perfectly still, not wanting to get trapped, this was like a game of chess.

However when they got within ten meters, you turned and ran quickly. Running wasn’t your specialty but hiding was, you ran jumped dodged behind a dumpster. Luck was on your side there was a tiny slide space between two buildings. Sneaking along quietly hoping to make it to the other side of the street where it sounded busier. You felt awfully claustrophobic the wall pressed against your bag and every time you breathed in your chest pressed firmly to the wall in front.

You stepped out the other side and began breathing easily, it was in fact louder and busier than the other street but you were still lost. Someone shouted and you tensed turning to see the group coming towards you. They grabbed you dragging you away as you were kicking and yelling at them to let you go. Throwing yourself from their grip they had ripped your shirt and the clasp of your overalls.

You heard another voice this one nasally. “You okay?” he asked you in English and saw a thin young man holding a baby. He pulled you to your feet and placed the baby in your arms with a kiss. You watched gently bouncing the baby, funnily enough taking care of the baby calmed your nerves.

The young man however seemed to unleash some sort of ninja skill, his body moved the way a fish might swim. He never stepped he glided as if the ground was made of the worlds slipperiest ice and he was graceful. A single punch looked like it was a practiced wave from the queen.

“Pammy, Pammy” the baby made grabby hands to the young man and you picked up your tiny bag from Hoseok and the uniform bag and the men ran away leaving the young man on his own. He turned and walked back his lip was split, he scooped up the child affectionately calling her his beautiful baby girl and looked at you.

“Do the Bangtan boys know you are out? I am Kwon Jiyong and this is my daughter Misuk. You are Y/N right?” He smiled shaking your hand, “Do you know your address I can get you a taxi home?”

He started to get dizzy and he held his daughter in his arms and slumped against the wall. “Listen my phone dropped out of my pocket, can I borrow your phone to call my partner Seung-hyun”

“You’re the Masc industries guy, I remember and you had a baby” You said kneeling down, in front of him, you pulled out your phone and it had died. Frowning you told him the bad news and sighed. That’s when you heard your name.

“y/n?” and out from the alleyway ran a very puffed agitated Yoongi.

Femme Media 16

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jlalafics · 5 years

Text

“Rent Control”-Epilogue

We’re here! I can’t tell you how much fun I had writing this!

Anyway, I plan to put this on FFn and AO3 some time next week so you can read the whole thing uninterrupted.

Also, just to warn you. This is LONG.

If you haven’t read the other parts, follow the links below:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Summary: Katniss Everdeen has found the perfect home in San Francisco—great neighborhood, an easy commute and, best of all, it’s rent controlled. There’s only one problem; the landlord will only rent to a married couple.

Enter Peeta Mellark.

_____

Rent Control

Epilogue: One Year Later

“Rue, I want the buffet to go here.” Katniss pointed to the back of the space, adjacent to the living wall. “Presents will go on the round table that we’re setting up at the entrance. The table linens are coming with Annie and Finnick—I found them at this awesome vintage shop in Oakland. They’ll be great if we ever decide to have any other special events…” She turned to the young girl. “Anything else that I’m missing?”

Rue chuckled as she ticked things off the iPad she carried in her hands.

“How about breathing? Seems like you missed it during that entire conversation.”

“Very funny, smartass,” Katniss retorted though she smiled fondly at the girl. “Sometimes I wonder why Peeta and I hired you.”

“Because I am the S-H-I-T…and because I can make a kickass Kouign-amann,” Rue replied, her grin just as affectionate towards Katniss.

Katniss nodded. “True.” She took a deep breath. “I just want everything to be perfect tomorrow for them. They’ve waited for so long…”

“It’s going to be great,” Rue assured her. “Now, you need to relax…have you even eaten?”

“No, just been busy and it escaped my mind.” Katniss sighed. “I could go for a cheese bun.”

Rue scrunched her nose. “Oh God—is that what you and Peeta call it now?”

“No, she’s actually really into my buns.”

Peeta appeared before them with a tray in his hand. Pressing a quick kiss to Katniss’ lips and placing the tray on an empty table, he presented her with a cheese bun which she took and began to eat with relish.

“I do love Peeta’s buns…” She winked at the man before her, cheeks full of food. “Among other things.”

Rue rolled her eyes at them. “You two disgust me. Go get a room—or an alley.”

“Now why would we do that when have those awesome mirrors Johanna gifted us in the back?” Peeta said with a smirk.

“I thought you said those were there so we could all keep an eye on each other in the kitchen!” Rue exclaimed. “Now I will never be able to make anything in there!”

“So, we’ll see you tomorrow?” Katniss asked, finishing off the rest of the bun as she wrapped an arm around Peeta’s waist.

“Yeah…but only because I really like cake!” Rue told them as she gathered her things off the counter next to her. “And, Annie’s potato salad!”

In a huff, the girl marched through the revolving door going to the back of the building.

Peeta and Katniss looked to one another, identical grins on their faces. Hand in hand, they went to the front where a long communal table stood and Peeta helped Katniss step onto the adjoining bench to sit on the wood surface before joining her.

When they were settled, they turned to one another.

“Happy Anniversary,” Peeta told her.

Katniss smiled and took his hand. “Happy Anniversary.”

Together, they turned to look out the front window of the Mellark Bakery, content in the moment and with one another.

++++++

“You won’t even tell me?” Katniss asked as she followed Peeta out of the kitchen.

“No,” he responded firmly as he went to the buffet table. Taking the piping bag, Peeta examined the three-tier cake before going to the middle tier and adding another perfect white frosting flower. “You also made me promise not to tell you.”

“You’re mean!” she responded petulantly. “See if I ever go down on you again.”

“Gross.”

Annie and Finnick, along with the rest of their brood, entered the bakery. Jack—now four—immediately went to Peeta to show him the Pokéball that he had in his grasp. Sarah and Rose dispersed to run around the bakery to which Finnick managed to wrangle one of the twins.

“Rose, we don’t run around Uncle Peeta’s bakery!” he told the girl in his arms.

“Sarah!” the one-year-old replied.

“Oops—sorry, kid,” her father replied sheepishly.

“I am so glad that we decided on that vasectomy,” Annie said as she went to hug Katniss. “Also—really gross. Why were you talking about ‘going down?’”

“Peeta won’t tell me,” Katniss informed her.

“Yeah, well that’s why we’re having this shindig—” her friend said as she placed the large bowl on the buffet table. “—so we can all find out as a family.”

“Actually…” The tips of Finnick’s ears went red. “Peeta kind of told me already.”

Annie’s brows furrowed at her husband. “Well…no head for you, either!”

“Are we interrupting something?”

Beetee stepped into the bakery along with Wiress, bright smiles on their faces.

“No, just some marital corporal punishment,” Peeta told the couple. “Speaking of which—congratulations on the engagement!” He placed a kiss on Wiress’ cheek before shaking Beetee’s hand. “Santorini must have been good for you.”

“And, check out that rock!” Katniss said after embracing Wiress.

“Beetee knew how I felt about diamonds,” Wiress explained with a gentle smile. “So, he came up with this lovely thing…and I couldn’t be more thrilled.”

“It originates from the 1920’s,” Beetee said as they stared at the ring. “The ruby is still in great shape and that design for the setting—they don’t make them like this anymore.”

“Wow…” Katniss was impressed; the ring was a work of art with its intricate carvings and a setting made to look like the ruby was the center of a golden-petaled flower.

Her gaze went from the ring to meet Peeta and she found him staring at her, a strange expression in his eyes.

Katniss could usually read him like a book—but this look was different.

“Hello! Hello!”

Everyone cheered as the celebrant entered the bakery.

Effie was glowing.

In the voluminous emerald dress, she looked like Mother Earth herself.

Well, her belly was about as round as the earth.

Haymitch followed, looking perfectly respectable in a dress shirt and slacks, his dark hair tied back.

Taking a deep breath, she looked to Peeta whose gaze went tender as he reached for her.

Together, they went to greet the soon-to-be parents.

++++++

“You two did really well,” Daphne said to Katniss and Peeta as she looked at the buffet table approvingly.

It was a great array of food; Annie’s potato salad and fried chicken—signatures from her restaurant, empanadas from a nearby Spanish restaurant, fresh salads created by Katniss’ mother, and Peeta’s three-tier cake with the ‘Hey Baby!’ topper made by Prim, who was a master calligrapher.

“We’re actually going to be partnering with Annie’s restaurant to create a new lunch dish,” Peeta said, his arm around Katniss. “Katniss thought about it. My brioche buns with Annie’s fried chicken. Robin taught Katniss how to make her slaw, so they’re pairing it with that. Should debut by the end of the month.”

“Perfect,” his mother replied. “I’ll have your father update the website to announce it.”

“I’ll take a picture when it’s out for our Instagram,” Katniss offered.

His mother beamed at Katniss. “You found yourself a good partner.”

“Don’t I know it,” Peeta agreed.

“Oh! There’s your mother,” Daphne told Katniss. “We went to Manhattan for a girls’ night and ended up backstage at Hamilton! Can you believe it? I’m going to see if she brought the pictures!”

With that, she rushed over to Katniss’ mother and the two hugged excitedly before they began to peruse Robin’s iPhone.

“That’s so creepy,” Katniss said.

Peeta grinned at her. “What? The fact that they had a girls’ night and are so far from that? Or that whenever they are with each other they become teenagers?”

“I don’t know…I didn’t think that they’d be so close…after everything,” she admitted.

Katniss looked around at the crowd of people who had come to Effie and Haymitch’s Baby Shower and Gender Reveal—the motif was a sage (and neutral) green.

A lot had changed; she was no longer at Johanna’s, instead becoming the designer for the bakery. Peeta had convinced her that it would be great for her portfolio. Together, they had come up with a cohesive design that gave the bakery its homey yet eclectic vibe. There was soft wood and greenery everywhere; there was no disposable ware, only large, thick mugs and glazed plates—very hygge.

Eventually, Katniss had transitioned into Business Manager to do the hiring. Rue was a recent graduate from the San Francisco Culinary Institute, and she couldn’t come more highly recommended as a candidate for Assistant Baker. She was creative and kind, eager to learn, and they took to her immediately. She hired a few more people for front-of-house including Finch, Rue’s roommate and Thresh, who decided to follow Peeta after he quit the coffee shop.

Johanna, who was currently chatting up one of the Haymitch’s co-workers, a tall drink of water with thick-framed glasses, encouraged her to spread her wings. Prim, bored with the East Coast and longing for adventure, took Katniss’ place at the boutique and was living in the Mission District above a bar that she occasionally bartended for.

Katniss’ gaze drifted to Effie and Haymitch. Her landlords looked jubilant; Effie caressing the bump that had surprised all of them seven months ago.

The Abernathys were celebrating their anniversary at the time. Everyone had joined them for dinner in the apartment’s backyard. Wine bottles were opened, some questionable things were smoked…and by morning, the Abernathys were found under their lemon tree, covered in a picnic blanket and wearing nothing under it.

A few weeks after that, Katniss and Peeta had their grand opening.

It had gone perfectly—until Effie vomited at their front entrance.

They assured her that she was ‘christening’ their new business when, in actuality, a little peanut was currently lounging in her uterus.

It had happened—the long-awaited Abernathy child had come.

“I think it’s time for them to do the reveal,” Peeta said into Katniss’ ear.

She nodded in agreement. “Everyone’s had their fill. I’ll let Rue know to grab the cake knife in the back.”

Peeta went to the couple to lead them over to the cake that would tell them their baby’s gender.

He winked at her before guiding Haymitch and Effie away.

Then, there were herself and Peeta.

Financially and in their work lives, they were doing great.

However, after their pretend nuptials, they had gone into a standstill. They were perfectly content for a while, unmarried and living in sin.

Lately, however, she had felt a longing.

And, as Katniss looked around at their family and friends, moving along in their personal lives, she realized that she wanted more.

She wanted them to be real.

Katniss wanted to get married.

++++++

“Before our soon-to-be parents cut the cake, does anyone have guesses on the gender?” Stephen called out to the crowd.

Everyone had gathered around the cake table excitedly waiting for the cake to be cut. His mother and Robin were already taking photos on their phones of the couple as Thresh—a budding photographer—took a few shots on his old Canon. Prim was quietly taking bets; the pool was already in the mid-hundreds, and the bets went from how much Baby Abernathy would weigh to how long into labor would Effie finally snap at Haymitch for impregnating her.

“I’m pretty sure, girl or boy, it’s going to be a dick,” Peeta’s father responded with a smirk.

“Christopher!” Effie put her hands to the sides of her belly. “Not in front of my baby!”

Haymitch guffawed. “He’s got a point there. No matter what gender, he or she is coming out with a set of balls and a penchant for rebellion.”

“Well, you’re as ready as you’ll ever be,” Beetee assured them good-naturedly. “So, come on—just do it already!”

“That’s what Effie said,” Finnick cackled.

Effie looked to Jack. “Cover your eyes, sweetheart.”

The little boy followed instructions and Effie immediately flipped Finnick the bird.

“I thought you said no cursing,” Finnick retorted.

“I wasn’t speaking, I was gesturing,” Effie said testily. She whipped over to her husband. “Now give me the knife.”

“No, I think I’ll keep any weaponry for now, sweetheart,” Haymitch said.

Together, they turned to the cake, and Haymitch quickly cut into it revealing the bright blue of the delicate sponge.

There was a collective scream as everyone rushed forward to congratulate the couple.

Peeta and Katniss hung back, content to watch the jubilee by one of the posts of the bakery. His girlfriend leaned back against him and he wrapped his arms around Katniss’ waist.

“You happy?” Peeta whispered into her ear.

“Oh yeah,” Katniss mused. “How could we not be happy about a little Haymitch in the world?”

“You know that kid is going to be all Effie,” he responded. “She is going to spoil the shit out of him!”

“True, but they deserve to,” his girlfriend said. “They waited for so long.”

Peeta looked around; their world was changing rapidly. Almost two years ago, Katniss was just the pretty girl from a boutique who he low-key had a crush on—and fantasized about during cold San Francisco nights.

Now, they were running a business together, living together, and just falling more for each other as time wore on. Peeta couldn’t even remember a time when he wasn’t waking up next to her gorgeous face. He didn’t want to imagine it.

He had always wanted Katniss in his life—and Peeta hoped that she wanted the same.

Because locked in his desk in the back was a ring.

Beetee wasn’t the only one who went vintage.

++++++

“You are stressing out, sis,” Prim remarked.

“I know, I know…” Katniss admitted as they walked around the CityTarget. “I’ve been so busy with the bakery that I haven’t had time to buy stuff for the apartment. We ran out of toilet paper last night—and it was during a time when one of us was prairie dogging.”

“Egads!” They reached the aisle with the toilet paper and Prim threw in several value packs into the cart. “Take as much as you can! Geez, you’re making co-habitation real appealing.”

“You lived with me for years,” Katniss retorted.

“Well, I was a kid for a majority of it—I didn’t know any better,” Prim said with a grin. “Really though, you seem kind of…not-so-fresh looking.”

“I’ve been feeling not-so-fresh.” Katniss pushed the cart towards the health aisle. The bakery needed more bandages for the first aid kit. “Now that the baby shower is over, I thought I’d feel better, but I’m not.”

Prim peered at her. “You getting sick? Peeta holding out on you?”

“I’m fine,” Katniss insisted though she yawned. “And, Peeta never holds out, especially since I’ve been super into him lately.”

Her sister raised an interested brow. “Explain.”

“Like for the last week, I’ve been obsessed with his…scent,” Katniss told her as she grabbed a value pack of bandages. “Literally, I wanted to lick the sweat off of him.”

“You freak nasty!” Prim bounced next to her. “I’m so proud.”

“So, that’s not weird?” Katniss asked, continuing down the aisle as she looked at the list on her phone.

“Well, we all have fluctuating hormones during our cycles,” Prim informed her.

“Hmm.” Katniss checked off the bandages, her next destination was dental floss.

She stopped, her brain connecting every symptom she had been experiencing into one realization.

Her eyes darted to the display in front of her.

Pregnancy tests—and they were all on sale.

Prim looked to her then to the display then to her sister once more. “Ohh…shit.”

Katniss could only agree to the sentiment.

++++++

“How long do these things usually take?” Katniss asked as she sat on one of the couches in Johanna’s boutique.

“Pretty quickly,” Johanna said as she looked at the three sticks assembled on the counter. “They all say ‘Pregnant.’”

Katniss shot up and rushed over, her eyes bulging as she looked at the three identical tests. “No.”

“That explains the whole sweat obsession,” Prim said.

Johanna looked to Prim. “Do I want to know?”

“Not really,” she replied. Prim put a hand over Katniss’ trembling one. “So…are we happy?”

Katniss took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment to just regroup.

She had always wanted children. Yes, it wasn’t expected and it was pretty early in the relationship; they were practically infants when it came to the relationship game in comparison to everyone around them.

However, Katniss couldn’t imagine having children with anyone but Peeta. She could see him with their child, teaching him or her to bake bread. Other images of their life with their little bun flashed in her mind…walks through Golden Gate Park, picking out the best ingredients for the bakery at Farmers’ Markets, falling asleep on their cozy couch in front of the fireplace during Christmas…

Finally, Katniss opened her eyes.

“Yes. We’re happy,” she told her sister and Johanna.

Prim reached over to embrace her. “Congratulations!”

Johanna joined in, a wisp of a tear in her usually sharp eyes.

“He or she is going to be the best dressed kid in San Francisco, thanks to Auntie Johanna!”

Prim pulled away to look at her sister. “So, how are you going to tell Peeta?”

“I don’t know—” She gathered them back together. “Just keep hugging me!”

++++++

“This is a bit of a surprise,” Robin remarked. Next to her, her husband flipped through a copy of the San Francisco Chronicle as his own father looked through an old copy of People that had been lying on their coffee table.

“I know!” his mother, who joined Robin on the lounger, added. “We never get invited here!”

The door opened and Prim stepped in along with his brothers.

Peeta had told Katniss to expect Bran and Alex as they wanted to check out the bakery, having missed out on the grand opening.

“Sorry! I get so confused at SFO!” Prim explained as she took of her coat and when to greet her parents and his own parents. “Took me forever to find the right terminal!”

Bran and Alex immediately tackled Peeta, sandwiching him before he could stop them.

“Guys!” he yelled. “You’re here because I have something serious to talk about!”

“We know,” Bran replied. “But there is something important that needs to happen.”

Peeta shook his head. “NO.”

Alex smirked. “Yes, little brother—the Mellark round-up.”

Together, Bran and Alex began to jump up and down.

“Mellark! Mellark! Mellark!”

Then, if Peeta wasn’t embarrassed enough, his mother and father joined in.

“Mellark, Mellark, Mellark!”

His mom was getting incredible jumps despite being in the sharpest heels imaginable.

“What is going on here?” Effie had arrived, along with Haymitch, who was greeting Stephen and Robin. “Daphne, you’ll destroy your Louboutins!”

“When there is a Mellark roundup, you must roundup,” his mother replied simply as she stepped away and rushed forward to hug Effie.

“Annie and Finnick should be coming soon,” Effie told the group as she plopped down on the space that Robin made for her on the couch. Katniss’ mother helped put a pillow behind Effie’s lower back. Their landlord sighed in contentment. “You’re a lifesaver, Robin. It takes me forever to get off our couch…”

“Won’t be much longer, I’m sure,” Robin assured her.

“Good, because I’m seriously done with this,” Effie said.

Finnick and Annie, along with Beetee, followed along a few minutes later. Wiress would be watching the Odair children who were all having their afternoon naps.

Once everyone was seated, Peeta settled himself in front of the group.

“First, thanks for coming,” he began. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I—”

“You want to propose to Katniss,” Haymitch stated. “I mean, it’s not exactly brain science.”

The door clicked and Johanna rushed in. “Sorry, I’m late! What did I miss?”

“Captain Obvious just stated the obvious,” Alex informed her with a wink. “Or in the simplest of terms, my baby brother is finally proposing to the woman who he was supposed to be married to a year ago.”

“Oh.” Johanna looked to Prim, who shook her head. “That’s great…”

Peeta immediately sensed something wrong in their expressions.

“What?” He took a gulping breath. “She’s not ready, right? Or, maybe she’s having second thoughts?” A sharp squeak escaped his throat. “I think I’m might be hyperventilating—”

“You’re overreacting,” his mother said, interrupting his moment of panic. “If you know Katniss like I know you do, you will know that she loves you.”

“And, that she wants more than anything to be with you forever,” Robin added, a tender smile on her face.

Stephen put his arm around his wife before looking to Peeta. “So, what do you want us to do?”

“Help me figure out how to propose to her,” he replied, his eyes going around the room. “Everyone in this room knows Katniss and me better than anybody else in the world. And, I just want this to be…perfect.”

“It will be, because it’s coming from you,” Beetee said sincerely. “However, if we’re trying to get organized, we first have to establish when.”

“That’s simple,” Stephen said. “Katniss’ birthday is in two weeks.” He looked around the room. “It would be the perfect excuse if she asks why everyone is here.”

“How about we all meet up again in like two days or something?” Annie suggested. “Before then, let’s all come up with some ideas to talk about during the meet-up.”

Everyone agreed to her plan.

“Peeta, why don’t we talk about Katniss’ likes and dislikes?” his father suggested. “Might help get everyone’s minds going.”

“Sure,” Peeta replied as he began to pace. “She’s not big on loud functions or anything where she’s in big crowds…can’t stand artichokes—thinks they’re wasteful…hates people who talk on those earbuds that aren’t connected to anything.” He paused, smiling to himself. “She loves sunsets…cheese buns…and—”

“Your penis?” Prim interrupted.

“Primrose Everdeen!” Her mother scolded.

“Come on, mom,” Prim said. “What did you think they did—sleep side by side in spacesuits?”

“No, but no need to be crude,” Robin admonished.

“So…two days?” Johanna called out.

“Two days!” everyone agreed.

+++++++

Prim grabbed Johanna’s arm as soon as they walked out of Katniss and Peeta’s apartment. Her parents and the Mellarks were already congregated at Haymitch and Effie’s for drinks before heading back to the rented home they were sharing while in the city.

“What the hell was that?” she asked her boss. “You almost gave the news away!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was coming into a meeting like that,” Johanna said. “I actually thought it had something to do with Katniss’ birthday.” She blew out a breath. “They’re going to have so much on their plate.”

“Well, it’s not our plate to worry about,” Prim told her firmly. “Just keep cool until Katniss figures out how to tell Peeta the news.”

“What news?”

They both jumped and turned to find Bran and Alex before them.

“Nothing!” they chorused together.

“Please.” Alex put an arm around Johanna. “How can you resist a Mellark?”

She threw his arm off her shoulders. “Very easily.”

“Come on, sis,” Bran pleaded. “Katniss has news? She’s not really breaking up with him, is she?”

Prim snorted. “Get a grip, bro. My sister is so into to Peeta that she told me—just a few days ago—she literally wants to lick the sweat off him.”

“More than I needed to hear,” Bran said.

“I want to hear more!” Alex responded. “Just more stuff I have on little brother.”

Prim walked towards the stairs, ignoring the Mellark brothers as they started a chorus of ‘Please!’. She was never good with being pressured and had a penchant to snap.

Katniss was much more impenetrable—except when it came to Peeta, apparently.

“Please leave it be! Katniss will tell Peeta about the baby when she’s good and ready!”

Her eyes squeezed shut when she realized what she said—SHIT!

The door of the Abernathy apartment opened slowly.

Taking a deep breath, Prim prepared herself for the onslaught of questions.

“Five, four, three, two, one—”

Her mother responded first, tears thick in her voice. “Your sister is pregnant?”

Swiveling around, Prim saw the heads of her parents, the elder Mellarks, and the Abernathys sticking out of the apartment door. In front of her, Bran and Alex stood, their jaws hanging open to which Johanna tried to push Alex’s up.

She turned to respond to her mother.

“Yes, Katniss is. No, I don’t know how long. She went to an appointment to confirm it today. I don’t know anything else. Above all—no one can tell Peeta!”

There was a collective nod and everyone stepped back so Haymitch could close the door.

With a wink at her, he closed it behind him.

“You are not good at keeping secrets,” Alex concluded with a grin.

“I know…” Her hopefully-soon-to-be brother walked over and gave her a hug. “At least I’ll be the baby’s favorite aunt. You and Bran can fight over who’s favorite uncle.”

He pulled away. “Not fair! Bran can actually get the kid a pony! He has a fucking pony guy!”

Johanna quirked a brow at the eldest Mellark brother. “Why would you need a pony guy?”

“We’ll worry about that later,” Bran said. “How about us brand new Aunts and Uncles have a drink?”

With a tired nod, Prim allowed Bran to lead her down the stairs and to the closest bar.

++++++

Katniss sighed, allowing for just one second the feeling of contentment to flow through her.

There it was, six weeks and five days old; a peanut of a thing, really.

A peanut with a heartbeat.

Stepping off the lightrail train, she walked onto the street island and headed in the direction of the bakery. It was already closed for the day and Peeta was probably in the midst of closing paperwork. He was diligent about being there everyday to make sure that everything was tip-top. She loved that about him; his constancy in all things.

Peeta had promised his parents that Mellark Bakery would be a success on the West Coast. He had achieved it, putting a new spin on his parents’ bakery, with gluten-free pastries and vegan-accessible food that broadened their customer base.

Getting her key out, Katniss unlocked the front door of the bakery and stepped in just as Thresh walked out from the back.

“Hey Katniss,” he greeted her. “Peeta’s in the office.”

“Thanks, Thresh,” she replied. “How did it go today?”

“Pretty run-of-the-mill, for a weekday,” Thresh informed her. “Great morning rush, decent lunch, and then kids coming in with their parents after school.”

“Maybe we should have discounted pastries from 3:30-5:00—” she mused. “—for the kids and their parents. Great time to get rid of the current day’s batch.”

“Great idea, boss lady.” Thresh gathered his things from the counter. “I’m off but let Peeta know that I checked and we’re still good on almond flour.”

Locking up after Thresh, Katniss headed into the kitchen. She loved the smell of it; the flour, sugar…even the scent of chocolate—that must be the baby’s doing as she was not into the cocoa bean.

Here, she felt wrapped up in this beautiful life that she and Peeta created for themselves.

Would it still be wonderful with the three of them?

Pushing her thoughts aside, Katniss went to the open doorway of their office. Peeta sat with his back to her, his shoulders hunched and deep into the spreadsheet on the screen in front of him. Next to him, his phone rested, the rough voice of Tom Petty singing about Mary Jane on its speaker.

She knocked against the doorway.

“Did I ever tell you how sexy you look with a spreadsheet in front of you?”

Peeta met her eyes, his cheeks coloring. “Probably not as sexy as you look taking counter orders.” Swiveling his seat, he patted his lap. “We’re low on chairs.”

Katniss obliged, primly sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Peeta pressed a kiss to her lips. “How are you doing today? You headed out pretty early. Everything okay?”

“I’m great,” she told him. “Just had an appointment.”

Here it was, the moment when she should tell him of their impending offspring.

Peeta yawned suddenly. “Sorry, I’m just exhausted. It’s been a very long day for me. Did Thresh tell you whether or not the almond flour was okay?”

Suddenly, now was not the time to tell him especially when he was tired and processing spreadsheets—

“He said the flour was fine.” A familiar tune wafted into the air and she abruptly stood up, holding her hand out. “You want to dance?”

Peeta nodded, taking her hand and rising from their ergonomic and expensive office chair.

“This song always makes me feel like I’m in a 90’s romantic comedy,” she told him as The Cure filled the room.

Peeta met her eyes, his own crinkling in laughter. “Aren’t we?”

She chuckled and nodded, her head going to his shoulder.

“The good kind, like Reality Bites or 10 Things I Hate About You—with witty dialogue and a kickass soundtrack.”

“Well, we have the witty dialogue,” Peeta told her. “Just need that soundtrack—” He stopped for a moment and looked into her eyes. “There’s something different about you. You look…sparkly.”

Katniss rolled her eyes. “Real witty.” She pulled him closer. “Just keep dancing.”

Her birthday—it was coming up.

She would just tell him then—and he couldn’t say anything bad because it was her day.

Somewhere in her head, Katniss swore she heard the baby call her a chicken.

++++++

Two days later, the group gathered once more sans Beetee, who would be watching the Odair kids. He had already sent Peeta an ample outline of his suggestions that included recreating he and Katniss’ first date down to the dress she wore for it.

Katniss was at the bakery for evening inventory. Rue agreed to pretend she needed help to give them ample enough time to discuss their ideas.

“Okay, Annie and Finnick—what do you got?” Peeta asked, a clipboard and pen ready in his hands.

“Well, we thought it might be cute if the kids helped in some way,” Annie said, looking through her own list. “Like maybe Jack could hold the ring for you or the girls can give her flowers…” She looked through the rest of her notes. “Sorry guys. The girls are teething and Jack is going through a phase of just waving his little Jack around, if you know what I mean. Our ideas are not so good.”

“So, your kid likes to be naked,” Johanna replied. “Everyone goes through a naked phase.”

“When did you get over yours?” Prim quipped.

“I haven’t,” Johanna simply replied.

Peeta jotted down Annie’s suggestions.

“No, they’re fine. I take everything into account.” He looked around the room, stopping on the Abernathys. “Haymitch? Effie?”

“How about you do something in the garden?” Effie said. “I mean, I can decorate—”

“You mean I can decorate,” Haymitch interrupted. “There is no way in hell that I’m letting you on a ladder.”

“But I have all the streamers from the baby shower and Katniss loves green!” his wife protested.

“Before this turns into a fight that Haymitch won’t win—” his mother told them. “—Peeta, just note it and let’s keep going.”

“Okay then.” Peeta wrote down the suggestion before going to his mother and father. “Mom? Dad?”

“Well—” His mother turned to look at Robin, who practically bounced in her seat. “We thought that we could blow up some pictures of you and Katniss sequencing your relationship!”

“And then we could do like a few them of your future,” Robin added. “Like one of you two getting married and one of you and Katniss with your baby—”

Prim, who had been drinking a glass of water, suddenly coughed.

“M-Mom!” she sputtered; her blue eyes wide with shock at the possibility of her mother revealing Katniss’ secret. “They don’t even have kids!”

“Oh pish.” Robin waved her hand easily. “Nothing that can’t be photoshopped.”

Peeta wrote down the suggestion. “That sounds pretty cool. I mean kids seems a little far—”

“You don’t want to have kids with my Katniss?” Stephen suddenly asked.

Peeta’s head snapped up. “Of course, I do! It’s just—”

His father suddenly towered over him. “Just what?”

A whimper suddenly escaped his mouth.

“I just thought that I would first like Katniss to accept my proposal before actually thinking about children…”

Bran jumped up, his hands going to both fathers’ shoulders.

“Chill, Dads.” He gave them pointed looks. “I mean, let them work that out when they get to that moment.”

“Anyway, before the parents decide to hijack your proposal, Bran and I came up with something,” Alex said. “We think that you should do something musical for her.”

Peeta shook his head vehemently. He already knew where this was going.

“No, bros.”

Prim scoffed. “Yeah, like Peeta can sing!”

“You’d be surprised,” Bran told her. “I mean, we—”

“Stop!” Peeta jumped from his seat. “I’ll put it into account but…”

“You know her favorite song, right?” Alex asked.

Peeta nodded, his cheeks burning. “Of course.”

Alex put an arm around his younger brother. “Then, just think about it.”

“Fine,” Peeta told him begrudgingly. “But I’m not making promises.”

“Just make it romantic,” Johanna told him earnestly. “Because in the end, Katniss is just like any other person; she enjoys a good romance once in a while.”

Peeta suddenly grinned, thinking of his conversation with Katniss the previous night as they danced in their small office. “A romantic comedy…”

Then, it came to him.

++++++

This was hell.

Katniss put a cool washcloth to her forehead as she sat on the floor of her bathroom. Peeta had offered to stay home with her, but she assured him that it was just ‘female issues.’ There was no need for him to miss out on work and Prim would check on her in the afternoon.

The moment he left, after promising to call at lunch, she immediately rushed into the bathroom to throw up the contents of her stomach—maybe her stomach itself—into their toilet.

She didn’t know how long she could take doing this, keeping this misery to herself.

Peeta got her into this. He should suffer, too.

“A few more days…” she told herself.

In a few more days, it would be her birthday and she could tell Peeta about their baby.

With that thought, Katniss laid down on the cool porcelain floor and fell asleep.

++++++

“She’s a wreck…”

Katniss blearily opened her eyes hearing her sister’s voice.

“What did you expect?” a deep voice asked. “She’s carrying my brother’s spawn.”

A washcloth was placed on her forehead.

“Just let her rest. She’s stressed out, keeping all of this from your brother.”

Katniss was soothed at Johanna’s words.

“Should we get her to their bed?” asked Alex. “She looks a little peaked.”

“I’m fine,” Katniss finally grumbled, her eyes opening to find Johanna, Prim, and Bran on the floor with her. Alex leaned against the doorframe. “If you take me to the room, I’ll just end up here, anyway.” She glared up at Johanna. “I can’t believe you told them.”

Johanna gave her a mock scowl. “Me? I didn’t say anything. It was your brainless sister.”

Prim gave her a pout. “Sorry, Katniss. You know I can’t keep secrets.”

“It won’t be a secret much longer,” she informed them. “I’m going to tell him on my birthday next week.”

“Your birthday?” Johanna repeated. “When did you decide that?”

“Once I got the confirmation that there was a little peanut-sized being inside me—also, when I chickened out on telling Peeta that same day,” Katniss replied and sighed. “We can never get married now.”

“Why not?” Alex asked.

“Because once I tell your brother, he will propose to me. Not because he wants to, but because he’ll feel obligated to. I don’t want to trap him like that. I mean, we can raise the baby together—”

Bran reached over to give her shoulder a squeeze. “Oh sweetie, my brother would never marry someone just because of obligation. Every move that Peeta makes, he makes with love.”

“I know.” Katniss sniffled. “Damn hormones. I just don’t want him to regret me…or the peanut.”

“He would never,” Alex assured her.

Katniss suddenly shot up, twisting in the direction of the toilet before retching into it.

The four other occupants reared back before Prim gathered herself to hold her sister’s hair up.

“Let it out,” Prim told her soothingly.

“I think I just threw up a lung,” Katniss replied miserably. “Help me up. I feel so gross. I need to change my shirt.”

Bran, the brawniest of them all, scooped the nauseous expectant mother up easily. “I got you.”

“Thanks, bro…” Katniss closed her eyes. “You smell like Peeta…but I’m not even turned on.”

He guffawed. “Gee, thanks.”

Everyone else followed them down the hall to the bedroom and Bran gently placed Katniss on her bed.

“Let me grab you a shirt, sis,” Prim said quickly before going into their closet and returning with an oversized white t-shirt. “Do you need anything else?”

Katniss shook her head. “I have a bottle of water by the bedside. I’m just going to lay down for a while. Peeta said he would call soon.”

Nodding, Prim went over to kiss the top of her sister’s head. “Get some rest, okay?”

Katniss nodded before closing her eyes. She was out before Prim even closed the door.

As soon as the door was closed, Prim turned to the other three.

“Fuck the plan. Peeta needs to propose like right now,” she informed them.

“Are you kidding?” Alex said.

“No, I’m not. Katniss is unpredictable and moody…she might tell him right when she wakes up for all we know. We have to beat her to the punch,” Prim told the three before looking to Bran. “Text all of our parents. Johanna, alert the building. Once this is all done, then we go to Peeta. Agreed?”

They all agreed quietly, not wanting to awaken Katniss, before getting to their duties.

++++++

The door of the bakery had barely closed for the day before the group barreled in. Peeta and Katniss’ parents, and well—the whole damn building were suddenly standing right in front of him as he was putting pastries away.

“What’s going on?” Peeta demanded to know.

Prim stepped forward. “You need to propose—now.”

He froze, a half empty tray in his hands. “What?”

Johanna took the tray from his grasp so she could have one for herself.

“If you don’t, there’s a chance that Katniss might say no,”

He looked at everyone’s anxious expressions. “But, the plan—"

“We figured it out,” his father told him. “It’s all set up.”

“How did you manage that?” Peeta asked.

“Katniss’…female problems knocked her out cold,” Alex offered. “At least, that’s what Prim told me.”

“We worked quickly and quietly,” Beetee assured him. “It looks great.”

“But…this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen,” Peeta said in disappointment.

“Peeta.” Robin lifted his drooping chin. “When did anything between you and Katniss ever go as planned?”

Peeta looked into her eyes—Katniss’ almond eyes—before giving her a kiss on the cheek. Reaching into his pocket, he handed her a set of keys.

“Will you get the ring? It’s in the bottom-left drawer of my desk in the small petty cash box.” His gaze went to his mother, her own eyes glittering with tears. “My mom knows the combination.”

Then, Peeta turned to the rest of the group.

“Let’s do this.”

++++++

Blinking slowly, Katniss finally opened her eyes. She was relieved to find that her stomach was no longer rumbling. She carefully sat up, her gaze going to her side table where a note in Prim’s writing laid on a packet of Saltines, saying ‘Eat me’.

Katniss opened the packet quickly and scarfed down the crackers while texting Prim to thank her. She was surprised to find that she had slept late into the afternoon.

Her phone dinged with a response. ‘Are you okay?’

She typed back, ‘I’m feeling much better.’

The next message came quickly: ‘Johanna and I are downstairs in the lobby. Come down and meet us! Also, can you wear that dress that you wore on your first date with Peeta? Effie was telling us about it the other day and Johanna is thinking of having it recreated exclusively for the boutique.’

Katniss swore that she had worn it at some point in front of Johanna but typed back in agreement, letting Prim know that she would be down in a few minutes.

Going to her closet, she pulled out the rust dress that she wore that first date. Without that date, she may have never run into Gale and he wouldn’t have texted his mother like a little bitch.

However, if he didn’t, then maybe her and Peeta might have still been living that lie.

In some ways, she should be thanking Gale—right after punching him in the nads.

Quickly, Katniss threw the dress on. She still fit in it nicely, her boobs filling the top a little better, but their little bun was still well hidden. After making sure that she didn’t reek of vomit, Katniss made her way out of the apartment and down the stairs.

Stepping onto the main floor, she found Prim and Johanna missing—but the door leading to the backyard was open. It wasn’t uncommon to find a group of them congregating for a glass of wine or just to talk about their day.

She loved this about their building; it was a community—a family.

As Katniss stepped into the backyard, her mouth fell open.

She didn’t see Prim or Johanna but found something entirely different.

To both sides of the door were easels with blown-up photos of herself and Peeta. She continued down seeing that first photo at their City Hall ‘wedding’ to a photo of themselves in front of the Mellark Bakery on its grand opening. It was easy to piece together that they were all set up to show the sequence of their relationship.

However, the last two before the archway of the garden showed two images of what was supposed to be their future.

One was an actual wedding, their faces photoshopped—masterfully—on a bride and groom in front of beautiful rose archway. The guests all happened to have the faces of their families and friends.

Then, there was the last one; the one of herself—with a very nice rack she might add—holding a baby in her arms. Photoshopped Peeta stood behind her, gazing adoringly at their little one.

Her hand reached to the little one’s face and with a sigh, Katniss wondered who their actual little one would look like.

She moved forward, entering through the thick archway where she was greeted by Beetee and the Odair girls.

In front of her, a large white curtain going from one side of the yard to the other had been drawn up, keeping her from seeing what was behind it.

Katniss looked to her neighbor. “Hey Beetee, what’s going on?”

He smiled at her before reaching behind him and presenting her with a delicate daisy crown.

“The girls—” Beetee looked to Sarah and Rose, who giggled and bounced excitedly. “—and I were in charge of this lovely crown.” He placed it carefully on her head. “The girls chose the flowers.”

Katniss looked to each twin. “Thank you, Sarah. Thank you, Rose.”

Beetee held out his arm. “Shall we?”

Tentatively, she took it. “I’m a little scared of what I might find behind that curtain.”

The man next to her chuckled as the little girls ran ahead.

“Now when has that ever stopped you from leaping forward?” he asked her, a softness in his dark eyes. They stood in front of the curtain and Beetee parted it with just enough space for her to walk through. “Go ahead.”

Taking a deep breath, Katniss stepped in.

The beginning strains of her favorite song came on and she let out a breath of shock at the sight.

Her family along with the Mellarks were there, all gathered to one side as the Abernathys, Odairs, as well as Beetee and Wiress stood to the other side. She walked down an aisle of rose petals gazing up at the streamers creating a beautiful sage-green big top.

Then, her eyes went to the stage in front of her. “Holy shit…”

“I don't care if Monday's blue

Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too

Thursday, I don't care about you

It's Friday I'm in love…”

It was Peeta…on stage…singing into the mic—and why did she not know that he could sing?

Katniss felt her lips turn up in a grin when Peeta winked at her, his mouth against the mic.

“Saturday, wait

And Sunday, always comes too late

But Friday, never hesitate...”

And, was that Bran on the drums behind him…and Alex on bass?

“I don’t know if Peeta ever mentioned that he and his brothers had a band,” Daphne said suddenly next to her, blue eyes bright with mirth. “They were quite the thing in our neighborhood.”

“I can imagine why,” she replied breathlessly, watching as Prim and Johanna sang back-up to Peeta’s lead vocals. “He’s good.”

Daphne gave her a kiss on the cheek. “He stopped singing for a long while—until you came along. Now, he would only do this again for you.” She moved Katniss forward gently. “Go on, listen to his song.”

“Always take a big bite

It's such a gorgeous sight

To see you eat in the middle of the night

You can never get enough

Enough of this stuff

It's Friday

I'm in love…”

Katniss didn’t know if it was the baby or just her, but she could feel the butterflies flutter in her stomach as she walked towards to the stage.

Oh shit—her stomach lurched; it was neither her or the baby.

It was her stomach.

Katniss could feel the bile rushing up and she lifted her skirt with one hand and used the other hand to cover her mouth before rushing to the left side of the garden. The music stopped abruptly in a jangled mess as she reached the end and let the vomit erupt from her mouth.

She was barely aware as someone gathered her hair up as she continued to throw up into what looked like a set of begonias.

“Oh God…whose flowers were these?” she choked out through tears and vomit.

“Don’t worry about it,” Haymitch said off-handedly behind her. “Those tenants were huge douches.”

A cool hand went to her forehead. “Are you okay?” It was Peeta. She realized as she leaned back against his chest that he had been holding her hair. “I didn’t think that it was humanly possible for someone to vomit that much in such a short span of time.”

Katniss closed her eyes, feeling the relief of being in his arms after such a trying day.

“I didn’t know you had such good voice,” she breathed into his chest, exhaustion taking over.

“Just one of my many talents,” Peeta told her and she could hear the smile in his voice. “You wanted romantic comedy, right? Don’t all good romantic comedies come with a kickass soundtrack?”

She laughed wetly. “They do, but they don’t usually come with vomit.”

Peeta chuckled, his chest contracting as he let out a shaky breath.

“No, they don’t. Some of them do come with one of these—” Peeta pressed his mouth to her ear and her skin tingled at the warmth of his breath against her ear. “Katniss Everdeen, will you marry me—for real this time?”

Her eyes opened and Katniss sat up, her gray ones suddenly watering at his words.

“Are you only asking me because I’m pregnant?” she managed to blurt out.

His eyes suddenly widened to a degree that could break world records—or cause a major headache.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Uncle Peeta?” Jack suddenly stood in front of them holding out a tiny red box. “Your mommy told me to give this to you.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Peeta ruffled his unruly locks before the little boy went to join his family. He turned back to Katniss. “Take a look.”

Shakily, Katniss took the box and opened it. There laying inside was a beautiful pearl ring surrounded by small diamonds on a thin band.

There was no way in hell, with a ring like this, that he did not plan this proposal.

“This is real.” She met Peeta’s eyes. “Are you okay…about the baby?”

Katniss felt her chest swell as tears lined his deep-blue eyes and his mouth split into a grin.

“We’re going to have baby,” he said thickly.

Peeta kissed her soundly, despite what Katniss was sure was the most rancid-flavored kiss.

But if that wasn’t love, then she didn’t know what was.

When they pulled apart, Katniss beamed at him.

“We’re having a baby…and getting married as soon as I brush my teeth.”

Peeta helped her up and she adjusted her skirt, brushing bits of grass off.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s possible,” Peeta said. “We’d have to wait until tomorrow—”

“Actually—” Beetee approached them and handed Katniss a piece of paper. “Signed by the mayor herself.”

It was a marriage license, their names already on it with today’s date as their official wedding date.

They both looked to Beetee and he shrugged. “I came prepared.”

++++++

Many months later…

“Come on, little mama.” Peeta rubbed the small of her back. “Just a bit longer.”

Katniss groaned as she trudged forward. “I am so sick of being pregnant.”

“Really?” He gave her a smile. “I couldn’t even tell.”

“Why did I marry you?” she asked, grinning at him.

“Because I’m adorably irresistible,” Peeta told her as they reached the front. “And, I have a huge—”

“Ego,” Katniss finished for him. She pressed a kiss to his lips. “And your penis is not so bad.”

“Better curb your tongue,” he warned. “Our daughter might come out with a sailor’s mouth.”

“Help me up.” Holding Peeta’s hand, Katniss carefully stepped onto the bench and onto the flat surface of the table. The table creaked as she settled. “Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”

Peeta joined her quickly, pulling her close.

“We can’t stay here for too long. Haymitch and Effie are expecting us. It’ll be their first date night since Luke was born,” Peeta told her.

“I know. Effie told me she’s been ‘aching’ for Haymitch.” Katniss blanched. “When she is really tired, she has no filter.”

“That was more than I needed to hear,” Peeta replied. “I guess it’s better than hearing about Alex and Johanna.” His brother had finally worn down Katniss’ friend and was now happily shackled after being married by an Elvis Presley impersonator in Las Vegas. “I don’t think my parents have forgiven them for eloping.”

“Well, they’ll forget once this one is born,” Katniss assured him, her hand on her swollen belly. She looked to Peeta. “Do you regret that we didn’t have a big wedding either?”

“Hell no!” he exclaimed. “I married you at sunset in front of our friends and family and it was actually official—”

“After I vomited in the middle of your performance.” Katniss leaned back against him. “I can’t believe I married the Nick Jonas of the Mellark brothers.”

He groaned. “Please stop with the Jonas references.”

“Okay…but when our daughter is sixteen, you can bet your ass that I’m playing the recording for her,” she responded.

“Deal.”

They sat back, looking out the window of the Mellark Bakery, content in the silence of the moment.

The silence didn’t last very long.

“Oh crap.” Katniss turned to her husband. “Help me up.”

He looked to her, used to her frequent trips to the bathroom and sudden need for pastries. “Why?”

“Because my water broke all over this table and it will cause water stains!” she burst out. “We just finished paying it off!”

Peeta jumped off it immediately, almost breaking that perfect Grecian nose in the process.

“It’s time?”

Katniss nodded, a bright smile on her face. “It’s time.”

______________

I hope this sated your appetite. I wish I could go into each character and tell you what happened to each but that would be like…ten more pages. I’d by happy to tell you via message on Tumblr.

For now, just know that Katniss delivered a healthy baby girl—and Peeta’s nose ended being broken, anyway. Next baby, he’ll be sure to not suggest that Katniss hold off on the drugs eleven hours in.

They’re still deciding on a name having vetoed Primrose the Second and Johanna the Great.

Suggestions for names are appreciated as well as presents for the newest tenant of the building.

Just a few other notes:

-A kouign-amann is actually a really flaky cake but here in San Francisco, they’re sold in a donut size so I think of them like cronut. Whatever it is, it’s flippin’ delicious.

-We have CityTargets in San Francisco, which are smaller versions of Target, and they’re basically made for urbanites or if you’re by the one next to San Francisco State University, college students.

-The current mayor of San Francisco is London Breed, I figure she’s still mayor in this timeline of the story.

Song: “Friday I’m in Love”-The Cure

Thank you for sticking around and reading!

With love, JLaLa

#Rent Control #everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #Everlark AU #Its finally done

171 notes · View notes

littlemisssquiggles · 5 years

Text

RWBY Musings #77: The Puppet Who Wanted to be a Real Girl. Is Penny Polendina really back?

jade-rosepine asked “ While I didn't mind penny and all, I can't help asking; what was the point of bringing her back? I mean yeah wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. Only thing I could think of was to make ruby be forced to make a difficult choice - kill a friend to keep her from being used by the villians (she is still a robot and could, theoretically, be hacked by a way more advanced virus. Basically the cyber-version of brainwashing or possession!) OR let her live and be a slave to the baddies?”

Squiggles Answers:

@jade-rosepine Whelp I was going to save this bit for my musing on the first episode of RWBY V7, but since you brought it up, I might as well voice my thoughts here. I’m going to be honest with you, fam. This squiggle meister has mixed feelings about Penny’s return.

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Heart of Machine

In the past, I was a big fan of the idea of Penny being rebuilt and returning for the Atlas Arc. However back then, I liked it under the pretence that she wouldn’t exactly be the same Penny Polendina that we all met back in V1. I figured she’d be an entirely different character and the justification for her being this way was so that the plot could’ve allowed for Ruby Rose to finally have some semblance of closure since it’s been shown throughout previous seasons how much Penny’s death has affected her emotionally.

As a matter of fact, as evidenced by her ‘Indomitable’ moment in V6, Penny’s death (along with Pyrhha’s and the events of the Fall of Beacon) are still a visible mental block to Ruby being able to fully utilize her Silver Eyes. Since Ruby was shown to still have much growing with mastering her unique power, I was hoping that part of her arc for this season would be coming to terms over her loss over Penny as I was certain being within her old friend’s home kingdom was bound to bring back memories of their time together.

Now I’m not so sure whether or not closure with Penny will still be in the cards for Ruby. It’s not he fact that Penny returned that troubles me. It’s the fact that she returned and is presumably supposed to still be her old self but fixed now. I’m sorry but I’m just not actively buying that at all. I mean, like you, I get that this feat wasn’t entirely impossible to do given that Penny was a robot and technology can be easily repaired; especially in a kingdom as technologically advanced as Atlas and especially by the hands of Pietro Polendina---the man who was literally described as the Greatest Mind in the kingdom. So yeah, Penny returning--- totally could have seen that coming. But that don’t mean I’m not heavily suspicious about it knowing these writers. I still feel like there’s something’s awfully fishy about this whole plot twist.

This brings me to my hunch about Penny 2.0. I don’t believe that that’s Penny. I mean, she is her. She looks like her (albeit with a more updated design that is reminding me a lot of Bach Do’s design of her from her RWBY 3.0 art series). Talks like her and of course, acts like her. But I feel like this version of Penny is merely a shadow of the soul she once was. I still feel like the old Penny that Ruby befriended perished at the Fall of Beacon and what we’re seeing now before us is just a copy mimicking the behaviour of its original predecessor.

When Penny 2.0 first appeared, after getting over my initial shock and excitement of seeing the character again, I couldn’t help but shake this icky feeling in my gut that something was off about the new Penny. I know the series is trying to get me to think that Penny is back here but…I don’t know. I’m not entirely buying it. I feel like something is awry about this and not even her bright and shining smile in the opening is enough to quell my lingering suspicion. I can’t help but feel like something is going to happen to Penny…again.

Perhaps your theory will be correct here Jade. Perhaps it will be a case where Arthur Watts creates and implants his strongest computer virus yet into Atlas’ system which not only corrupts all the Atlesian Battle Droids in Atlas but all technology within the whole kingdom; Mantle included. This is inclusive of Penny 2.0 and possibly even Pietro Polendina’s mechanical wheelchair which goes haywire and knocks the poor old soul man off of his seat leading to Maria Calavera having to defend him and help him to safety.

Perhaps it will come down to Ruby having to fight an infected Virus Penny 2.0. However I don’t think Ruby will be forced to kill Penny. I think a moment like this will boil down to what’s stronger---hardware and programming or the soul.

It was stated back in V2 that Penny is the first (and possibly only one) of her kind. The first artificial lifeform to produce an aura. As we know, aura is described as the manifestation of one’s soul. Penny is supposed to be a soul within the body of a machine. While her body may be synthetic, at her core, she is supposedly human or the closest thing to it.

And since the V7 opening hinted at love being a major theme for this volume, it makes me wonder if we’re going to get a potential moment where a mind-controlled Virus Penny tries to harm Ruby but in the end, it’s the strength of the profound friendship shared between both girls that ultimately allows for Penny to combat the virus corrupting her machine software with the love she feels in her soul for her dear friend. Y’know love conquers all.

I wouldn’t even be too surprised if it’s a case where Penny ends up sacrificing herself to put a stop to Watts’ tyranny. Like Penny uses her core to cause a chain reaction that obliterates Watts’ powerful virus.

Dr. Polendina mentioned in the first episode that the only reason he was able to fix Penny in the first place is because Atlas was able to salvage her core from Amity Arena. Penny’s core is obviously an important part to her. I’m assuming it’s the part of her that contains the soul that’s keeps her alive. So no matter how many times Penny’s body is destroyed, so long as her core is still intact, she can be brought back. Why mention that little detail at all if it wasn’t going to be relevant later, ey?

What if … Penny’s core does eventually get destroyed. If that gets obliterated, then Penny---or at least the version of her that Ruby knew and loved--- will be gone for good this time.

I feel like the V7 finale could set up for a Terminator II type of conclusion where the machine our protagonist has grown to know and love over the course of their story is forced to sacrifice itself for the greater good of saving our hero from a dark fate. I feel like should your headcanon be made reality in the canon, we’re likely to see Penny sacrifice herself on the grounds that this time, there’s no coming back.

I can imagine Penny’s core being used as the key to stopping Watts reign over Atlas and this time, Ruby is allowed to do what she couldn’t do back in Vale. Not only would she get to save Penny but she would also get to officially say goodbye to her friend and tell her how much she loved her before tearfully watching her give herself up for the purpose she was built to do---save the world.

That’s how I’m more seeing things going down for Ruby and this newly rebuilt of Penny for their shared storylines this season. As per usual, these are only my headcanons here and I can very well be very much wrong in my prediction. But nevertheless, for now, I’m leaving this thought and theory on the table.

Then again, I’ve also gotten ahead of myself here.

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More Machine Than Man

Now that I’ve discussed how I figured Ruby and Penny’s story may conclude for V7, allow to me to voice my views on the build up to it.

As I’ve said, I feel very off about Penny being back. While I’m relishing in seeing her again, I also can’t feel a sense of this is too good to be true; y’know what I mean?

I feel like this is all a set-up. Like right now, both the audience and our main gaggle of heroes are left to believe that Penny had returned and she’s all good as new---almost like she never died at all, right?

But I feel like there’s a catch to that. I feel like at some point, in a later chapter of V7, Ruby is going to have her chance to spend some quality time catching up with Penny. At first, things seem pretty normal between them. They’re both laughing. Swapping stories…having a grand ole time with their heart to heart girl talk…only for Ruby to notice something quite off about Penny.

Like I have this scene imagined in my head. A scenario in which Ruby is supposed to head back down to Mantle to hang out with Penny P who’s finally have some free time to catch up with her old friend and desires to take Ruby on an official fun tour of Mantle---the nicer parts that is.

As a matter of fact, let’s say Penny invites the whole squad---JNPR_RWBY down for a night of fun and dancing down in Mantle with her and father. Pietro did mention in the first episode that he’s been working on shows that dance. Given his enthusiasm, dancing must’ve been one of Pietro’s favourite pastimes prior to losing function in his legs. So maybe, at some point, since the kids have all been working hard with their huntsmen duties and training, Pietro decides to treat them all to a nice of entertainment.

Imagine if …Pietro and Penny take the group to an old fashioned Mantlese Carnival which is basically RWBY’s version of Mardi Gras with a big parade of bands with nonstop musical entertainment.

I was kind of hoping that our heroes would have reunited with Team FNKI while they’re in Atlas. But it doesn’t seem like they’ll be present at all for this season. Unless, it’s a case where our heroes run into them while out with the Polendinas.

Resuming my Mantlese Carnival idea, let’s say after the group finished watching the parade, the Polendinas lead them to an old-fashioned snazzy little joint whose taste in jazz music is as sweet as its food.

I couldn’t help but be reminded of jazz music and the blues by Pietro Polendina’s design and the way he talked. His sense of fashion is giving me mega New Orleans type of vibes. Like he walked straight out of the set for the Princess and the Frog.

Anyways, like I said, our heroes are treated to a night of music and dancing by the Polendinas but while out and about in Mantle, they also happen to run into none other than Neon Katt and Flynt Cole.

Like imagine the group enjoying a nice performance by a local jazz band in Mantle only to find out that one of the musicians is Flynt.

Neon is also there to either show Flynt support (as my headcanon is that the two are dating) or perhaps she’s part of the performance with him as a singer as she and Flynt deliver a sort of Jazz/Blues rendition of Neon’s classic theme. Why not, ey?

After briefly exchanging pleasantries and catching up with their ole pals from Vale, Flynt and Neon invite everyone to an underground Mantlese rave. So unfortunately for Pietro and Maria (who was his date/company for the night), the younglings end up ditching the old folk for a night of partying. Not that they minded. Even Penny was allowed to join the group at the rave.

So as promised since V2, Neon and Flynt take JNR_RWBY plus Oscar and Penny out partying. As a side note, I’m not sure if Oscar would even be allowed to set foot inside a club given his age as a minor. Like I can just imagine Oscar, innocent as ever like the country munchkin that he is, walking up to the club bouncer only to be immediately barred from entering for being both underage and looking the part. Like would you believe Oscar is actually his age given his short stature and baby face?

As a matter of fact, the only way I can see Oscar being allowed inside of a rave is if a) he faked his age by having one of Flynt and Neon’s friends hack into Atlas’ s system and alter his birth date by two years (since I’m imagining Atlas using electronic ID scans that instantly verifies a person’s personal records by just scanning them on the spot) or b) Flynt and Neon pulls some strings to have Oscar allowed in as they’re known regulars of the club. Why not?

So the group are out having a grand ole time, and while enjoying themselves Ruby and Penny sort of skedaddle for a bit up to a private place where they can just talk to one another. Since y’know…it’s been so long since they shared a chat since one of them was presumed to be dead and all. Anyways, it’s during their talk that Ruby noticed something peculiar about Penny’s behaviour.

She keeps recalling memories of times she and Ruby shared in excruciating detail. But that’s not the part that threw Ruby off. No matter how many times the Silver Eyed huntress attempted to deviate the conversation and get Penny to talk her more about how she’s been doing since what happened at the Vytal Festival, Penny kept reverting back to recanting the same stories.

The hunch I had in mind here is: What if…Penny 2.0 is actually a copy of original Penny. Rather than being a soul mimicking human nature from within a mechanical body, it’s more a machine operating purely from memories that were transferred to it from its old former self.

When we first met Penny, while the implications of her being an humanoid were clear as day from the instant she first bumped into RWBY (I mean I certainly called that she was a robot from day one), you could also still tell that there was something remotely human in nature about Penny. I got that sense the first time Penny revealed to Ruby that she wasn't a real girl. You heard the strong tinge of genuine sadness in her voice as she said it which was what made her friendship with Ruby all the more pure. Their bond was wholesome and important to each other inspire of only knowing one another for a short space of time.

And when Penny died in V3, you didn't feel as if it was a machine being destroyed. You actively felt like a character---a real person died. We, as the audience, got to feel the same sense of sadness that Ruby Rose felt watching her dear friend die before her very eyes after failing to save her in time.

Ruby failed to protect Penny (and eventually Pyrhha too) which was what made her answer to Maria’s question in V6 all the more meaningful.

She wishes to master control of her Silver Eyes, not just for the sake of being able to vanquish the Grimm but for the sake of protecting the people who matter most to her---her friends and family. The people who love her as much as she loves them.

This also kind of presents another reason why I’m conflicted on Penny’s return. Penny being back all fixed and good as new as if the Fall of Beacon didn’t happen kind of puts a bit of a damper on Ruby’s trauma as a result of what happened. It’s one of those things that made me question why show Ruby suffering from flashbacks of her friends’ deaths just to have said friend return good as new.

As we saw during her ‘Indomitable’ moment in V6, thinking about Penny and her death caused Ruby to lose focus. Yes Ruby managed to summon her light to petrify the Leviathan. But not before using Jinn to buy her some time so she can concentrate and let’s also not forget that Ruby’s power didn’t work.

While she succeeded in petrifying the Leviathan, she failed to kill it. This to me was a clear indicator that Ruby hasn’t full mastered her unique power and still has much to grow. A detail that I was relieved the CRWBY kept since I never felt like Ruby’s indomitable moment was rightfully earned so it almost felt like a waste of a good moment, in my opinion

I’m probably in the minority here when I say this but I actually disliked Ruby’s Indomitable scene from V6. As I said, it wasn’t properly earned and that took me out of the whole moment.

Instead of watching Ruby go through an arc of learning to fully master control of her newfound abilities, struggling at first but also learning more about herself and her heritage in the process building up to this grandiose moment where she finally perfects her power.

Instead we spent two whole seasons with our little red rose being written to be rather neglectful of her eyes, never once further questioning its mysterious origins; not even when in the face of the very person who told the last person who first told Ruby about her eyes.

Ruby learnt about the Silver Eyes from Qrow during the finale of V3. Qrow, on the other hand, said he learnt about the Silver Eyed Warriors from Ozpin. Ruby had her chance to ask Oz for more on the Silver Eyes at any point during V5 or even V6. Instead the Writers have her question everything but her Silver Eyes…despite showing her using it again later in the season during the Battle of Haven.

It is such a darn shame that Maria Calavera was only brought in for V6. I honestly feel like her character and role as Silver Eyed mentor to Ruby should’ve been better utilized as early as V4.

Instead I was left feeling that Maria’s presence in Ruby’s development was made irrelevant especially by the end of V6 when Ruby had her big brain idea to use her Silver Eyes on the Leviathan…despite having zero prior training. I don’t think that’s how progress is supposed to work?

And let’s not forget the fact that Ruby has only known Maria for only four days since the entirety of V6 (and the start of V7) only took place over the course of four days in RWBY’s timeline.

So yeah, Ruby’s Mastery of her Silver Eyes has much more groundwork to do and I have a feeling the Writers brought Penny back to aid with that

Did they necessarily have to though? No not really. As a matter of fact, Penny 2.0 unfortunately falls into the ball park of how the Writers brought back Neopolitan in V6 for me. While it’s nice to see Penny again, I didn’t honestly need her back especially since her death was framed in such a symbolic way to the plot in terms of how it affected Ruby’s character these past few seasons. Now I’m left questioning what the whole point of all of that was.

Listen, I’m not trying to imply that bringing Penny back was a terrible idea on the Writers’ part. I’m more saying, I don’t 100% buy into it. Not exactly.

I honestly feel there is going to be a catch with this. The Writers can’t have Penny’s death still affecting Ruby only to just magically have that trauma and mental block magically disappear now that she’s back in the picture. They’re not gonna do that, right?

They’re not gonna undo that big detail established in previous seasons, right? I mean…it’s not like they’ve done things like this before, right?

Nuh uh. Not buying it. Hence my theory on Ruby having a moment with Penny 2.0 only to realize that she’s not exactly all good as new as she was proclaimed to be.

Either that or it’s a case where even though Penny is back, Ruby herself can’t seem to look past the past.

She can’t seem to shake the haunting fact that she once saw her friend die before her very eyes because she failed to help her. Like I’d figure that that memory would still remain as a nightmarish lingering thought in Ruby’s psyche. Right?

Like imagine this scene. A scenario where Ruby and Penny are out exploring Mantle together, catching up only for Penny to be called back to the line of duty when another alert of Grimm attacking the city blares it ugly head. As Penny flies off to do her thing, Ruby follows her below on foot determined to help her out. When Ruby finds Penny, she arrives just in time to see her down a couple of Saybers from attacking a couple of fleeing civilians.

Ruby calls out to Penny. Penny, in turn, spins around to wave to Ruby. But while Penny is distracted greeting her friend, she is neglectful of one stray Sayber that suddenly comes in from behind and slashes Penny straight through the chest.

Ruby looks on in complete horror as Penny 2.0 is once again cut down in front of her; the nightmares of her decapitation at the Vytal Festival resurfacing. And for a moment, Ruby freezes on the spot. She doesn’t even react as the same Sayber charges at her.

But before the Sayber could get to Ruby, it’s killed before it could lay a bloody talon on her. As Ruby looks up slowly from her daze at her saviour , she sees that it was Penny. In spite of her damage, Penny was still functioning enough to protect Ruby.

Let’s say, for the sake of the scene, the rest of the heroes---JNR_WBY plus Oscar were down in Mantle too and overheard all the commotion from the emergency alarms; all seven huntsmen and huntresses arriving at the scene to aid with the rescue.

Let’s say the others had seen what happened to Penny and immediately came to her side to quickly gather up her severed parts to take her immediately to Dr. Polendina so he could repair his daughter.

As the others handled Penny, let’s say…Oscar approaches Ruby as he noticed the disturbed expression on her face. Oscar urges Ruby on the matter of them taking Penny to her father as quickly as possible. At first, Ruby reacts like she didn’t hear Oscar; apparently too lost in her own wild thoughts. It wasn’t until Oscar gently touched Ruby’s shoulder did she finally stir out of her stupor. Long story short, the heroes manage to get Penny 2.0 to Pietro in time.

After studying her injuries, Pietro reports to everyone that Penny was going to be fine. She may be off duty for a couple of days given that he’ll need time to repair her.

But beyond that, Pietro assured the group that Penny was going to make a speedy recovery; much to the relief of the heroes. But in spite of hearing the good news, this doesn’t serve to uplift Ruby’s mood and her bothered expression of deep concern is still apparent on her face. Even as JNPR_RWBY depart from the Polendina residence to return up to Atlas.

As the group look to head back home, Oscar is the one to take notice of Ruby’s awkward silence.

I say Oscar of all people rather than her teammates or Yang since it’s been highlighted before that when Ruby is feeling pressured or looks distressed in some shape or form, Oscar is quick to pick up on that.

He’s also been shown to act out on trying to help Ruby in this type of emotional scenario. This is why should we ever get a moment like this in the canon, I can picture it being another prime chance for the Writers to show Oscar being an emotional crutch for Ruby.

If a scene like this ever comes to pass in the series, the way I see it going down is Oscar confronting Ruby again about Penny and the two sharing another heart to heart moment where he gets her to open up about her true feelings. I’ve been itching for another V5 Dojo-esque scene between the Rosebuds.

I’d love to see another example of Oscar helping Ruby through another emotional rut; particularly if it involves Penny.

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

So to conclude…

I guess the main point I’m really trying to get at here with this musing post is that I don’t believe Ruby’s arc revolving around her grievances about Penny’s death is over. Even with her being back in her life.

It can’t be. Just because Penny was repaired and has returned doesn’t instantly erase the fact that she did die nor does it erase Ruby’s memory and clear trauma over it. At least, I hope that’s not how the Writers are going to portray it. Ruby’s thing is that she sees Penny as a real girl. She sees her as a person. But Penny isn’t entirely a real person.

She possesses a soul of her own, yes (and I’m curious to learn the origins of said soul) but she’s also a machine. Her body is fake but at her core, she is a living being. Sort of---really need an origin episode on how Penny was created and where Atlas and Ironwood got the soul that’s a part of her.

Did it come from the Relic of Creation? Was Penny an unexpected by-product of the Relic’s power; brought to life by an experiment tested by Ironwood using the Relic of Creation?

Is the Relic of Creation the RWBY equivalent of the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio? Is the being of the Relic of Creation inspired by the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio?

Who knows? These are all questions I’m looking forward to this season answering for me.

But in the meantime, in regards to Ruby’s bond with Penny, We got to see Ruby grow to care for Penny as a person and what’s interesting to note is that Ruby has always valued Penny as more human than machine.

Keeping that in mind, picture if part of Ruby’s story with Penny for V7 is her leaning to accept that Penny isn’t a real person. This is why I like my theorized scene of having Ruby witness Penny 2.0 being cut down again; highlighting she’s still not over what happened at Beacon. Imagine if that creates an issue for Ruby where she actively feels uncomfortable at the thought of losing Penny time and time again since she can’t handle watching her friend getting destroyed in spite of the fact that she’s a machine that’s built to protect humanity.

I know this concept probably sounds rather farfetched based on how I’m describing it. However, that’s how I’m choosing to look at it; for now. Perhaps the story for this season might change my mind on that. We’ll see.

Anyways, that’s all I have to say on this subject matter for today. For the most part, I hope I managed to answer your question, Jade. As usual, please let me know if I did. I’m always open to hearing other FNDM fam members thoughts on my thoughts on my thoughts.

Similar to you, this squiggle meister is also left pondering why the Writers’ brought back Penny. It’s actually kind of sad that I have to question it. If I wasn’t so skeptical over the CRWBY Writers’ writing decisions given their recent track record then I wouldn’t be questioning this decision so much.

Right now my theories are my best bet at understanding why this decision was made for the plot but that don’t mean that that will be the case in the canon. I’m praying there is a good narrative reason for Penny’s return and that it wasn’t done as a gimmick to hype up the fans for the new season---y’know bringing back another fan favourite character just because they thought it would be quote, unquote, ‘cool to do’.

I didn’t like that that was the rationale for Neo’s return, as mentioned in the V6 DVD Commentary, and I’d be equally peeved if that was the rationale for Penny’s. Then again, maybe I’m getting too ahead of myself here. We’re only one episode into V7 so let’s not jump the gun. Let’s just be patient and wait and see what the rest of the season brings, ya?

Until then, hope you at least enjoyed my new musing post.

More Squiggles’ RWBY Content

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

#rwby #penny polendina #ruby rose #oscar pine #rwby theories #rwby volume 7 theories #rwby volume 7 spoilers #rwby volume 7 #rwby musings

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lloydskywalkers · 6 years

Text

two a.m. tea

This is for the wonderful @kipskiff , who recently did some fantastic art of Lloyd and Nya and Pixal getting tea at two am together, which is a concept I really wanted to write something on, so here we go! This is...technically an AU, because Lloyd and Nya know about Pixal before season 8, but you know what it’s a good AU that should be canon, because I love these three.

Nya is a lot of things, but one thing she definitely isn’t is blind.

(…most of the time.)

So when the new Samurai X crops up, in her armor, and promptly refuses to answer any questions about their identity, Nya spends a week or two flailing about before she gets serious. If someone’s got her mech, no matter how well-meaning their actions seem (saving Lloyd definitely won them points, but still) Nya needs to know who it is. It’s just a safety thing, and with their track record, it’s better to be safe than ambushed and nearly-slaughtered by someone they thought they could trust in the middle of the night.

So Nya cracks down and really starts studying the new samurai, mentally cataloguing the way they talk and how they choose to fight, what weapons they’re picking and the mannerisms they use, and eventually she’s able to pin down who it is — she’s promptly torn between utter shock and wondering why she didn’t think of that earlier, but she thinks she handles it pretty well.

Ironically, Lloyd figures it out five minutes before she does. (Or at least she thinks he does — he looks suspiciously calm about the whole thing, and he’s been the most unconcerned from the start. And he does have a track record with figuring out the identity of Samurai X, so…)

At any rate, Nya’s pretty sure that her and Lloyd are the only ones to have figured out Pixal’s secret, so by the time they all head off on their Find-Master-Wu missions, it’s easy enough for Nya to stop back into town every once in a while and meet up with them for tea at the hole-in-the-wall shop in the rougher part of town that Lloyd picks out for them.

He claims it’s where his uncle used to go sometimes, but Nya’s still too suspicious that Lloyd never entirely outgrew his past to believe that. He also claims that it’s the only place in town to get a decent cup of tea at two in the morning, which Nya is much more inclined to believe.

“-and then he tried to run, likely because he realized he was outmatched, but he must have forgotten we were on the twentieth story, because he tripped over his own feet and ran straight off the edge of the building, still clutching the money as he went.”

Nya grins as Pixal continues to detail her story to them, her eyes lit up brightly as she gestures, looking as enthusiastic as Nya’s seen her. Lloyd is listening in rapt attention, laughing at all the right parts as he sips at his own cup of tea — which very likely has too many sugars in it to be healthy, but what can you do. He’s in his new gi, the bright green one with the stitching she’d seen him working on a while back. It looks nice — it kinda makes Nya want to change up her own gi design, actually, she’s been feeling blues lately, for some reason…

She spares a brief glance at her current outfit, and shrugs. Sweat pants are comfy, and it’s not like she’s here to impress anyone, anyways. It probably looks pretty funny, actually, Lloyd in his gi and Pixal in her armor, then Nya seated between them looking like she just rolled out of bed.

“I like your glasses, by the way,” Lloyd mentions to Pixal, after they’ve finished with her story (she caught the guy about three flights down, which is less than Nya would have let him fall for).

“Oh!” Pixal’s hand drifts to the large-rimmed glasses she’s wearing. “Oh, thank you, I had forgotten I still had them on.”

“I told you they looked good on you,” Nya says, with an air of satisfaction. “You should keep ‘em.”

“Really?” Pixal says, hesitantly. “But I don’t really need them. My eyesight is perfectly fine.”

Nya shrugs. “Kai doesn’t need hair gel.”

“Jay doesn’t need ten blue jackets,” Lloyd chimes in.

“Cole doesn’t need sleeves.”

“Nya doesn’t need Starfarer socks.”

“Lloyd doesn’t need seven of those extra soft blankets.“

“Yes I do, there’s seven nights in a week,” Lloyd defends.

Nya shakes her head. “The point is, you might not need them, but you can want them. And if you want them, wear them! Simple as that.”

“Oh,” Pixal says, turning this over in her head. She finally nods. “I will keep them, then.”

“Nice!” Lloyd raises his teacup. “To Pixal’s glasses, then.”

“Hear, hear,” Nya clinks her cup against his. Pixal looks slightly confused, but she clinks her cup against theirs nonetheless. Lloyd snickers, and Nya leans back, sipping at her cooling tea.

“So, how’s it been on your side?” Nya asks Lloyd, nudging him.

Lloyd’s expression falls a bit, though Nya can tell he’s trying to look content about it. “Oh, it’s good,” he says, his cheer sounding forced. “There’s, um. There’s some late nights and stuff, but it’s not…it’s not bad, or anything. It’s good. Good times.”

Nya trades looks with Pixal.

“That was a terrible lie,” Pixal says, turning back to him.

Lloyd buries a hand in his hair, leaning back. “Ugh, fine. It’s a little lonely, that’s all, okay?”

Nya’s heart dips, and she bites her lip. It’s been lonely on her side, too, traveling the countryside by herself, but Lloyd has always taken that sort of thing harder.

“You know you can call us whenever, right?” Nya reminds him. “And Pixal’s here too, if you wanna talk to her,” she adds, as Pixal nods.

“Yeah, I know, it’s just-“ Lloyd sighs. “I dunno, it’s harder to enjoy stuff when it’s just you,” he mumbles, shifting his teacup in a circle on the table. “And like, I love protecting the city, but it’s a little more difficult to do it on your own.”

“I actually miss the guys and their dumb catchphrases, too,” Nya admits. “It is less fun on your own, huh.”

Pixal looks between the two of them. “I’ve never been part of that,” she says. “So I cannot empathize, I’m afraid.” She sighs, brushing a tuft of silver hair from her face. “I do wish to experience it someday, though,” she says, quietly.

“You should join up with us, then!” Lloyd says, eagerly. “When the guys get back, you can be on the team too-“

“Lloyd,” Nya says, quietly. Lloyd looks at her, then at Pixal.

“O-only if you want to, that is,” he says quickly, deflating a bit. “If you wanna…reveal yourself, and stuff. It’s up to you.”

“Thank you for the offer,” Pixal says, smiling slightly. “I’ll consider it. But in the meantime-“

The TV in the shop corner suddenly scratches, warbling out the tinny alert of a news update as a reporter’s harried voice comes through.

“-violent activity in the northwest city quarter again as another bank is hit, suspected to be attributed to the recent rise in biker gangs. Police are on their way to the scene as we speak-“

“In the meantime…” Nya mutters. She meets Lloyd’s eyes, then Pixal’s. She carefully sets her cup of tea down. “Anyone up for a little team bonding right now?”

Pixal and Lloyd look at each other. “Yes,” Pixal replies enthusiastically, standing. “Let’s go kick butt!”

Lloyd’s face splits into a grin. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!” he says, shooting up from his own seat. “Let’s show these guys who’s boss. The uh - the bosses. Multiple bosses, ‘cause there’s three of us.”

Nya snorts, but she stands as well, shouldering her katana as she does. Looks like she’s fighting crime in sweatpants tonight.

“Was that too assertive?” Pixal whispers to Nya, as they trail out of the restaurant.

“Nope!” Nya grins proudly. “You’re doing great. Kicking butt is the number one ninja requirement.”

“Oh, good,” Pixal says. “Samurai, as well?”

“Pix,” Nya says, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “Here’s the thing you gotta remember. Ninja kick butt. Samurai? They do it better.”

*********

There wasn’t really a conscious choice, per say, to split their team up like they did — a lot of it ended being convenience, timing, Jay and Cole arguing so much nobody else wanted to deal with them, and that sort of thing — so it’s not like it was a purposeful decision that Nya and Lloyd got stuck on solo missions.

Well, just Nya gets missions, really. At least she gets to travel, and stuff — Lloyd is stuck babysitting Ninjago City on his own, which is slightly funny and even more concerning, because Lloyd should not be babysitting anyone when he’s the one that needs babysitting.

(Look, Ninjago City has never claimed it was “perfectly fine” after taking a crowbar to the head, then tried to double-flip over to the next building and ended up nearly cracking its skull open on the dumpster it fell into instead.)

(Lloyd has…a questionable track record, that’s what Nya’s trying to say.)

So it’s more than a little relieving that Nya knows Pixal is there to keep an eye on him.

“-I mean, what if she hadn’t been there, Lloyd?” Nya says accusingly, as Pixal carefully wraps Lloyd’s wrist from where she sits across the table from them. “What were you gonna do? Take another twenty fists to the face?”

“Id wasn’ twen’y fisds,” Lloyd mumbles into the napkin he’s got pressed against his nose, which is just barely not broken.

“It was certainly close,” Pixal pauses and frowns, studying Lloyd’s wrist before continuing to wrap it. Nya gives Lloyd a pointed glare, and he wilts into the booth.

They’ve chosen a 24-hour breakfast diner this time, one of those ones that looks like it’s been there since the dawn of time and will likely be there until the end of the world itself. The circular lamps that hang above their table cast them all in an odd yellow lighting, that makes Pixal’s hair look almost blond, and the bright green in Lloyd’s eyes look like it’s glowing. The linoleum floors beneath their shoes are cracked, the walls of the diner coated in plaster layer upon plaster layer that’s been half-heartedly hidden behind old music posters — and this one old picture Lloyd likes that’s got a cat eating a bunch of pancakes.

It’s around four in the morning when they meet there — because that’s when Pixal yanked Lloyd out of the drug bust — so their only other companions in the joint are heavy-eyed truck drivers and half-conscious people who are probably regretting hitting up as many bars as they did. It’s nice, though, because the employees seem like they’ve served hell itself with a bored expression, so no one really looks at the two ninja and a samurai crammed into the vinyl booth twice.

Lloyd pulls another bloody napkin away from his nose, making a face as he replaces it with a new one. “I’m fine, ‘kay,” he says, voice muffled as he winces, trying to stop the blood flow. “Id’s nod a big deal. I had id handled.”

“I hope that isn’t what you all consider ‘having it handled’,” Pixal says, gently tying off the bandages around Lloyd’s wrist. “There. All done. Ah, I believe that ice helps alleviate the pain, if you wish to…?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd flashes Pixal a small grin — Nya cringes at the blood on his teeth — as he takes the napkin-wrapped ice from her and sets it against his wrist. “D’anks, Pixal.”

He finally pulls the napkin away, prodding cautiously at his nose before deciding it isn’t going to bleed anymore. Nya gives him another pointed look, and Lloyd sighs, gathering up the bloody napkins and walking them over to the trash can.

“Thank you, seriously,” Nya mutters while he’s gone, rubbing a hand across her temple. “I was so far out, I don’t know what I would have done…”

“Of course,” Pixal says, patting Nya’s hand a little awkwardly. “I will always help Lloyd if he needs it. And I promised you I would keep an eye on him, right?”

“Yeah,” Nya smiles at her. “Thanks. You’ve been stellar.”

Pixal smiles lightly, and takes another sip of her tea. She immediately wrinkles her nose. “This is…not as good as the other place.”

Nya makes a face at her own cup of tea, which is sitting untouched. “Yeah, it’s not the best,” she says, braving another sip. Ugh, nope, hasn’t gotten any better in the last five minutes. “We’re kinda just here for the food,” she says, apologetically.

Pixal shakes her head. “That’s perfectly fine,” she says, as Lloyd ducks back into the booth with them. “Food is good as well.”

She’s spoken not a moment too soon — a yawning server makes their way to them, flipping at his notepad apathetically.

“You gonna get anything to eat?” he asks, sounding like he couldn’t care either way.

“Hi, yes,” Nya speaks up, before Lloyd can. She cuts him a you’re grounded look, which Lloyd sinks lower into the booth at, sulking. “I’ll have the biscuits with a side of bacon. Pixal?”

“I’ll have the, um, biscuits as well, thank you,” Pixal says.

The server nods, scribbling away. He looks back up. “Anything else?”

Nya is highly aware of the plaintive looks Lloyd is giving her.

“…and we’ll also take two chocolate-chip pancakes, extra whipped cream please,” she sighs. Lloyd beams.

Geez, it’s like watching a puppy, she thinks in amusement, studying him. A puppy with hair that probably needs to get cut pretty soon, she notices, watching the way the blond locks now fall into his eyes.

Lloyd remains oblivious to her stare, too busy stacking the little syrup containers into a geometric-shaped tower.

“You better not be using all of those,” Nya says, narrowing her eyes.

Lloyd shifts. “Of course not,” he scowls, but she notices that he very visibly moves the syrup packets closer to him. Nya snatches at them before he can all but sweep them into his lap, and a muffled battle over the packets ensues, with Nya emerging victorious and Lloyd left with a mere two small packets.

Lloyd gives a miserable sigh.

“Here,” Pixal says, sliding the five — five?! — packets Nya had somehow missed over to Lloyd. “You can have mine.”

Lloyd lights up. “Thanks, Pixal!” he says.“You’re my favorite sister tonight,” he says, shrewdly glaring at Nya.

“Excuse me for not wanting you to go into cardiac arrest at the young age of thirteen,” Nya grumbles.

Lloyd turns pink. “I am not thirteen-!” he yelps — and immediately claps a hand over his mouth as his voice cracks. Nya bursts into snickers as Lloyd sinks back into the booth, pulling the neck of his sweatshirt up over his scarlet face.

Oh, Kai’s gonna be so mad if he gets back and Lloyd’s gotten over his awkward voice-crack stage without him, Nya thinks.

Pixal, however, isn’t snickering, or even smiling bemusedly like she normally does when she doesn’t get something at first. Instead, she’s staring at Lloyd with an odd look on her face, almost like surprise.

“Pix?” Nya asks, her laughter dying off. “Everything okay?”

Lloyd looks up as well, emerging from his sweatshirt a bit, rubbing at his bandaged wrist as he does.

Pixal shakes her head. “Yes, I just-“ she blinks, staring at Lloyd again. “You…you called me your sister.”

Lloyd turns a bit pink again. “Oh, uh, yeah,” he says, hesitantly. “Is that - was that okay? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, or anything, I just-“

“No, no, that is not it!” Pixal says, hastily. “I just — I didn’t think you…saw me that way.”

Lloyd’s still pink, but he looks a little less hesitant as he shrugs. “Well, yeah, you’re family, right?” he says, in that innocent way he has, like it’s obvious.

Pixal blinks rapidly, but the start of a smile edges its way up her face. “Oh,” she says, looking down as if to blush. “Right.”

Nya feels a grin edge up her own mouth, watching the happy smile that plays across Pixal’s face as she sips at the tea, Lloyd digging in to the pancakes beside her, still sniffling occasionally but otherwise happy.

Fine, Nya decides. She’ll let him off the hook for this one.

*******

The next time they’re able to meet up is barely in passing, crammed into a tiny shop Pixal spots on the riverfront while on patrol one night. Between the three of them they’ve been hopelessly busy — Lloyd and Pixal have had their arms full looking out for Ninjago city lately, crime having picked up drastically. They keep talking about this new bike gang that’s been showing up, which is apparently giving them both a lot of trouble and a few killer headaches. Nya would offer to take a look into it, but she’s supposed to head out for the rural villages later this morning, and it doesn’t sound too concerning. Lloyd and Pixal assure her that it’s probably just a gang on a vicious streak, that’s all.

They can handle it, that’s the message Nya’s getting. She’ll take their word for it, for now.

The riverfront shop is right where the nicer quarter meets the rougher edge of town, and that’s illustrated in the shop’s decor, gold-trimmed wallpaper run with cracks, the dark wood tables nicked and dented with scratches and scrapes. It’s got a nice view of the river, though, and the tea’s pretty good, so they decide it gets a thumbs-up in their slowly growing list of places to get tea without being immediately recognized.

They get there in the early hours of the morning again — the sun is just peeking over the horizon by the time they start on their tea. Lloyd’s finishing up telling them about Jay and Cole’s last check-in, laughing as he recounts Jay’s reaction when he realized the monastery they’re checking out is on top of the mountain, not at the bottom.

“And how are Kai and Zane?” Pixal asks as he finishes, visibly hiding her interest.

“They’re good, too,” Lloyd says, brightly. Nya knows it’s because he got to talk on the phone with Kai last night — really talk with Kai the other night, which is always good for the both of them. “I think they’re hitting some of the southern villages, Zane was talking about wanting to double-check on some rumors there about crime and stuff.”

“That sounds like him,” Pixal says, fondly. “Thank you,” she tells him.

Lloyd nods, stifling a yawn as he does and rubbing at his eyes. The gesture makes him look younger, but not by much. He’s looking older every time she sees him, Nya thinks with a pang, baby fat almost entirely gone, his voice pitching deeper by the day. Lloyd doesn’t seem to think much of it, but it pulls at Nya’s heart — Lloyd’s been the family baby for so long (he always will be, regardless), and it’s hard to think that he’s actually capable of doing something like growing up. He’s been living on his own, too, so he’s more independent than Nya remembers him. What’s next? A girlfriend?

Nya wrinkles her nose. She can’t imagine Lloyd dating anyone (much less anyone deserving him, at that, but she’s a bit biased).

But Lloyd isn’t the only one to have changed. Pixal looks different too, her hair pulled into a new style today, glimmering little earrings flashing when she moves. She looks like she’s finding out who Pixal is, something Nya had suggested several cups of tea back, and there’s no bittersweet edge in her happiness as she notices that.

“And there’s still no news about your uncle?”

Nya blinks back to the present at Pixal’s question — it’s something she’s been wondering herself.

Lloyd shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says, looking troubled. “I haven’t even heard from my mother yet.”

Nya twists her teacup in her hands, eyebrows furrowing. Misako doesn’t have…a great track record, but she’s at least been steady at letting Lloyd know how and where she is. The radio silence is probably concerning.

“Hey, I’ll keep an eye out for her while I’m traveling, okay?” Nya says, reaching out and briefly squeezing his hand. “I’ll let the guys know, too.”

“Thanks,” Lloyd says, with a weak smile. “Appreciate it.” He glances over at Pixal. “We’ve got the city in the meantime. We’ll make sure it doesn’t burn down while you’re gone, or something.”

“With Kai abroad, I think we’ll have even better chances,” Pixal says with a hint of a smile, and Lloyd snorts.

Nya chews on her lip as she watches them. Lloyd doesn’t just look older, he’s quieter now, too, more subdued. It’s making her heart hurt — and weirdly, making her feel even more protective. Like she needs to stay here for a little longer, keep a closer eye on things, instead of setting out just yet.

Or maybe she’s just tired.

Nya watches him spoon sugar into his cup, and feels a slight flare of relief. At least he’s not totally grown-up.

She glances at her watch, and sighs. Lloyd notices the action, and his face falls a bit. “That time already?”

Nya nods, heart sinking. “I wish I could stay longer,” she says, regretfully. “I mean, there’s another bus I could take this evening, but-“

“Nah, you don’t wanna get stuck in rush hour traffic,” Lloyd says, with all the wisdom of someone who’s spent too much time on the Ninjago streets.

Pixal nods, looking serious. “They’ve closed a few roads for construction, too. You won’t get out for ages.”

“Alright, alright, I see how it is,” Nya grumbles, draining the rest of her tea. “I’ll get out of your hair and let you two get back to running the city already.”

They both burst into protests, and Nya laughs, half-heartedly swatting them away as they embrace her. She lets them hold on for a second longer than usual, though, and perhaps holds on a bit longer herself.

It won’t be that long, she tells herself. Things can’t change that much more any time soon, anyways.

********

It’s a while before they’re able to meet after that, to the point that they almost forget entirely about their late-night tea meet-ups. They spend a good deal of time with each other in the early days of the Resistance of course, plotting against Harumi and Garmadon and trying to piece themselves back together, but they’re far too heartsore for any real conversation, and it’s hard enough getting Lloyd to eat or drink anything during that time.

But they make it through — battered and bruised and slightly worse for wear, but they make it through alive and unbroken. So by the time they’ve made sure all the Sons of Garmadon have been rounded up, and the guys have talked themselves into what’s probably much-needed sleep (Nya hasn’t seen Kai with dark circles that bad in ages), their spirits have picked up enough that they don’t sit in completely depressed and despairing silence at the coffee shop they find that’s miraculously still open amidst the chaos.

They do, however, spend a good few minutes sitting around in utterly exhausted silence, slumped around the battered table.

Nya’s not entirely sure why they’re even here — they haven’t even changed from their Resistance clothes yet, much less slept or showered. And they need it. Nya’s uniform has tearing holes that stretch over her left shoulder and lower arm, and Lloyd’s green uniform is colored black in places where it’s been charred, sporting as many, if not more tears than hers is. Pixal’s armor is dented and dirty, and she’s got her own charred spots from when she crashed the mech into Garmadon.

It’s not like they were trying to escape the recently-returned guys, either — in fact, the only reason they’re not currently with them is because they’re all dead asleep at the moment.

Something, Nya supposes, none of their trio really want to do at the moment.

Lloyd finally stirs, giving a low moan as he stretches, wincing as his shoulder shifts and rubbing briefly at it. Pixal stares into her tea cup as if it holds the answers to the universe, her eyes glassy-looking. Nya herself is about two minutes from face-planting into unconsciousness in her own tea, so she clears her throat, wincing briefly as she speaks up.

“Anyone want food?”

“Mm,” Lloyd hums absently. Pixal shrugs.

Nya tries again. “I was thinkin’ noodles.”

Lloyd gives a loud, sudden snort of laughter, closing his eyes and rubbing his hands over them. “Anything. Anything other than noodles.”

Pixal looks up, less groggy as she smiles ruefully. “I think we’ve had enough of those to last us a lifetime,” she says.

“We’re probably indebted to Skylor for a lifetime,” Lloyd mutters into his hands.

“Nah, those were all on the house,” Nya says. “We can put it on Garmadon’s tab if we want, though.”

Nya wants to bite the words back as soon as they escape her mouth. Bringing up Garmadon is exactly what she’d reminded herself not to do, an error matched only by mentioning Harumi.

Lloyd just lowers his hands though, shaking his head wryly. “Maybe,” he says, quietly. Pixal trades a look with Nya as he goes quiet, and Nya is considering changing the subject to something drastically different when Lloyd speaks up again.

“I think he only eats souls of the innocent right now, though.”

Nya gives a loud snort as Pixal breaks into quiet giggles. Lloyd just grins, an exhausted, weary grin, but one of the more genuine ones Nya’s seen in the last month.

Nya cuts her laughter off just as she feels it turning hysterical, threatening to turn into tears, and Pixal’s dies off soon after. They fall back into silence, but it’s more companionable this time, less horribly tired.

“Thanks,” Lloyd suddenly whispers. Pixal looks up at him, but neither of them really need to ask what for.

“For everything,” he continues, after the beat of silence. “I owe you guys.”

“We only did what you do for us,” Nya says. “Besides, we gotta stick together, us three.”

“That’s what family does,” Pixal adds, and Lloyd gives her a smile that’s only slightly edged in pain.

Their conversation dwindles off again, leaving only the sounds of people crowding the streets outside, sirens and construction and large trucks moving by. The sounds of life are loud in comparison to the unnatural, terrified quiet of the last few weeks, but they blur into a comforting sort of white noise with the soft piano music of the shop. Nya feels her eyes drift shut, bone-deep exhaustion leaving her feeling almost weightless.

“Hey,” Lloyd suddenly says. “D’you think I can still get my car back?”

Nya blinks up at him, opening her mouth then closing it. Pixal frowns, tilting her head.

“Did you get a parking pass?” she says. “I heard they’re strict about that at Kryptarium.”

Lloyd’s the first to give in, bursting into infectious giggles, so terrible as the joke is Nya follows right after, her loud laughter joining Pixal’s. It’s laughter edged in exhausted hysteria and the suppressed emotions of the past weeks, and this time Nya does let a few tears fall, but-

It’s real laughter, the kind that reminds Nya that they’ve won, and that gives the shop a pretty high spot on their list from that alone.

The tea’s not half-bad, either.

#ninjago #lloyd garmadon #nya smith #pixal #my fic

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7deadlycinderellas · 5 years

Text

If the summer of our lives could just come again, ch2

Ao3 Link

Catelyn

Lady Catelyn would be ashamed to admit it took her much longer than her husband to notice something amiss with her children.

Bran’s accident had distracted her enough, that one of them could have disappeared and she might not have noticed. Every day she spent much of her free time sitting with him. She did her best not to neglect her duties, but it was often difficult.

One morning, Sansa had asked her to help brush and fix her hair. It was a bit off to start that she hadn’t simply asked one of the servants to help, Sansa took great care and pride in her appearance, and often spent much of the morning with one of the girls twisting it into a style more befitting of a southern lady than one from the stalwart north.

Running the brush through her daughter’s hair, Cat hums softly. Sansa asks her,

“How much longer until the King and his men leave?”

“Just two more days,” Cat tells her. This seems a good enough time to broach the topic.

“What happened to make you suddenly not wish to marry Prince Joffrey anymore?”

Catelyn had never really been in favor of the match. Southern boys were so different from the world her daughter knew, and she feared her sudden infatuation would cause her to make a rash decision. Still, she was curious what caused the sudden change.

Sansa worries her lip with her teeth. “Later that night after the feast, I heard him making fun of Arya. He called her- it was foul, I won’t repeat it.”

Oh. That was really not what Catelyn had expected. Perhaps that would explain why the two sisters had seemed closer than before.

“And then, later, I heard him being cruel about Bran’s accident. Laughing about it even. Enough that even his own uncle slapped him. How in the world could I marry someone like that?”

She leans forward to wrap her arms around her daughter’s chest and squeeze her.

“I wasn’t ready to lose you to marriage anyhow.”

Sansa grabs and squeezes her wrist, her eyes focusing somewhere far away.

“It does make me wonder.”

“What’s that sweetheart?”

“If he treats children this way, how will he treat his subjects.”

Catelyn has always been proud of her daughter’s accomplishments and protective of her dreams even when she recognized them as dangerously guileless. Now she’s very proud of her judgement.

Once she finishes the simple braid Sansa requests, Catelyn fixes the end, gives it a tug and gets up to leave.

“Don’t worry Sansa, one day you’ll meet a good man, who is brave and good and loves you, and you’ll fall in love and marry him just like you’ve always wanted.”

She leaves and shuts the door, and so can’t hear Sansa’s quiet response of,

“No, that’s Arya.”

Bran

“Any new bird updates?”

Sansa and Arya had taken to slipping in to visit Bran before bed at night, to touch base.

“The Reeds are halfway here. Davos has convinced Stannis to let him take Shireen to stay with Renly. He tells him being in a less grim household will be good for her.”

“Oh!” Sansa squeaks with surprise, “That’s probably a good idea, she’ll be safer there.”

“Unless Renly still tries to challenge Stannis for the throne,” Arya adds grimly.

Bran shakes his head.

“King Robert’s death is still a bit away, if it still happens at all. Davos hasn’t spoken where he plans to go after Storm’s End, but his maps are to King’s Landing, then up to White Harbor. And he’s smuggled several large crates, full of dragonglass.”

“A smuggler still, “ Sansa says, smiling.

“Anything of Gendry?” Arya asks, trying not to sound too anxious.

Bran shakes his head again.

“Not too much. His master has noticed that he knows how to do things he hasn’t taught him yet. Gendry’s being rather mouthy and stubborn with him too-”

“When is he not?”

“I think he’s trying to get himself kicked out so he can leave.”

Arya slumps forward.

“I wish I could tell him it’s not safe to try and leave by himself, that Davos is probably coming for him.”

“Gendry’s stubborn, you’ve said it enough.” Sansa insists, “Even if we could he might not heed our advice.”

Attempting to change the subject, Bran interjects with,

“Anything new around Winterfell?”

Arya perks up a bit.

“Jon gave me Needle earlier today, way earlier than he did before!”

“He’s probably noticed you’ve been all morose,” Sansa says, wryly.

Arya shrugs her off.

“Sneaking off to practice isn’t going to be fun though, especially since I’ve noticed Father watching me more.”

Sansa is suddenly quiet, contemplating her next words.

“I’m writing a letter to send with Lord Tyrion. I think having his eyes in King’s Landing will be invaluable.”

Bran looks at her askance. His own interactions with the man had been very limited, though admittedly, positive. The special saddle he’d designed had been one of the few things to have truly made him feel like maybe he wasn’t broken.

“Do you think that wise?”

Sansa’s lips are squeezed in a tight line.

“He is both a clever man and a careful one. Not much can get past him , and I know it might not make sense, but I trust him.”

Arya is still unconvinced,

“There’s a lot of information to try and stuff into a letter.”

Sansa cocks an eyebrow at her.

“I might just be laying my claim on a series of nebulous visions. But I’ve got enough bits of information that I shouldn’t that he won’t be able to ignore me. Things he told me in confidence, that no one outside his immediate family should know.”

“Speaking of Lannisters,” Arya interrupts,”...Bran you should be careful, I saw Jamie skulking around here earlier, but Father was sitting with you so I he didn’t try anything.”

“Did we ever figure out who sent the assassin after you before?” Sansa asks.

“It was Joffrey, some kind of fucked up misguided sense of mercy. I don’t think he’ll try that now, since all I’ve got are broken bones.”

Sansa rolls her eyes. As if they needed another reason to hate Joffrey.

“Actually, I kind of want to talk to Jamie at some point.”

“Anything urgent to tell him?”

“I thought ‘stop fucking your sister, even if it weren’t disgusting, she’s a horrible person who does her best to make you one too’ might be too on the nose, but it’s all I’ve come up with.”

Arya claps him on the shoulder.

“You will definitely die if you tell him that.”

Jon

Jon had known that leaving Winterfell for the Watch was going to be hard. He had still been completely willing to stick to his plans. But in the past week, his resolve was being tested.

Lord and Lady Stark were treating him much the same, Ned with kindness, and Catelyn with barely concealed glee that he was soon going to be out of her hair. Robb still treated him as a brother. But his younger siblings…

Sansa had, just the other day, while outside the Maester’s tower, suddenly thrown her arms about him and declared how much she was going to miss him. It involved more words than Jon could remember her ever sparing him before. Sansa had never been cruel to him, true, but she had dismissed him nearly as much as her mother had.

Bran’s fall has tested him as well. But then the boy had woken, in near impossible spirits for a child hurt so badly. And he had beamed at Jon when the guards had helped him to the training yard (against Maester Luwin’s recommendations) so he could watch the older boys train.

Arya had been unusually reticent with him. It’s so unlike her, that it genuinely worries him. It worries him enough that he chooses to give her the gift he’d had made for her several days early.

She had cackled with joy when presented with the sword, naming it “Needle” with hardly a misstep. He’s later spotted her with it, alone in the training yard, after the evening meal. Her movements were untrained, and unconventional, almost like a dance. He secretly hopes that she’ll never have to use it.

He also swears he hears her mutter something about having “stupid little doll hands,” but he can’t make heads or tails of that.

Sansa

“We have to tell Jon,” Arya insists.

She’s right, Sansa knows. It’s horrifically unfair to send Jon off unprepared with as much as what they know is going to happen. But how?

“How should we even get him alone?” Bran tries to figure.

“Sansa, you can grab him after we’re all supposed to be in bed, you’re closest. I can sneak down here easily. If anyone catches us, just tell them that we were going to miss Jon terribly, and wanted to spend as much time with him as we could.”

Arya’s plan is a good one, Sansa thinks. It’s mostly true. Even so, she still feels her stomach flutter when she stands outside Jon’s chambers waiting for him to appear, hoping he’s alone, and hoping she’s right that all the servants have finished their business near there.

He is, to their luck. He looks surprised to see her, and she understands. This is entirely unlike her old self, which is why it was a good choice for her to be the one to get him. Young Sansa always followed rules, always did what she was supposed to, rarely even stayed up past when she was supposed to be in bed. And she did not spend her free time consorting with her bastard half-brother.

Which explains Jon’s terribly confused face when she reaches to grasp him by the arm and says, “come with me”.

“Sansa, what in the wo-”

She drags him down the hallway, and into Bran’s room. Arya is sitting in the chair beside his bed, and Bran has pulled himself up so that he’s sitting unsupported.

Jon’s eyes track between the two of them slowly, and then back to Sansa, who’s bolting the door just in case. When she finishes, she sits at the end of the bed, and gestures for Jon to do the same on the other side.

“We wanted-we had to talk to you before…” Sansa trails off. There’s so damn much, how do they even start?

“You’re leaving in what, two days?” Arya asks.

“...Yes, Uncle Benjen and the others are leaving for the Wall in two days.”

Arya glances at Bran.

“How long-”

Bran shakes his head.

“Three or four more.”

“What are you-”

Bran takes a deep breath.

“You will leave in two days, and you will make it to the wall. The other men of the Night’s Watch are concerned about why the Wildlings are fleeing their villages. You will find out. You will rise in the ranks, and you will do great things, but any glory will be for naught.”

Jon is confused. That is putting it lightly. He would almost think they were just trying to be encouraging, but the tone in Bran’s voice….he desperately wants to interrupt him, but he can’t.

“It will be for naught, because that deserter Father executed a few weeks back was absolutely right, the dead are rising and the Others have returned.”

Jon’s head is swimming. Deserters, white walkers, he wants to accuse them of making up stories, of Bran having spent too much time listening to Old Nan while he was recovering.

“So many people will die, and they will rise as the Night King’s wights-”

Finally, Jon has the voice to interrupt Bran.

“Stop it! I don’t know why you three brought me here if you’re just going to be making up stories-”

“Because we lived them Jon!” Arya interrupts, her voice angry. Genuinely angry, not the anger of an impatient and impudent little girl. “All three of us watched it happen. And now we’re back here, and we won’t fucking let it happen again.”

Admittedly, Arya is often foul-mouthed, but she’s rarely been so casual about it. Jon is choosing to focus on this instead of what she’s said.

“We lived it...and then we came back. There was, some sort of, anomaly or hole, or something, in the middle of the Neck, and we went through it, and we woke up back here, years before. It was a long time,” Sansa admits, “Lots of things happened. Babies were born, people married...lots of people died, but not always at the hands of beasts.”

There’s a tilt to her voice, one full of pain.

Arya speaks up again.

“Father was the first. He figured out the secret that got Jon Arryn killed, and they killed him for it too.”

Jon is aghast.

“You’re telling me this and just expecting me to hear it and then leave?”

Sansa takes a deep breath.

“So much of what happened....It mattered at the time, and it will matter again, but if we don’t deal with the threat the Night King and the white walkers bring, there won’t be anything left in Westeros to fight over.”

Jon sits, contemplative for a moment.

“What do you think I should do?”

“Just be who you always are,” Arya comments, smiling, “Brave, kind, just. The man Father raised you to be. And know that any rumours you hear about the things we told you are true.”

“You’re going to end up being involved with everything anyway.” Sansa tells him solemnly, “Just because of who you were born.”

There’s a long pause there, and the three Stark siblings think hard on what to say next.

“What would you say,” Bran starts, “If we told you we knew who your mother was?”

Jon freezes. This truly is the one bit of knowledge that has haunted his life, the ever present question.

“I would ask how you knew, and why you three, and not Father or Mother?”

Sansa has her head bowed, and continues, quietly.

“What would you say if we told you you were not our brother, but in fact our cousin?”

Jon’s face turns white. His mind turns the statement over in his mind.

“Uncle BenJen took the black, and Uncle Brandon….”

Bran shakes his head. This was going to be hard enough without them getting side-tracked.

Jon catches his meaning without comment.

“Aunt Lyanna?”

When Bran nods softly, Jon’s mind takes off. He’d heard the stories of course, of beautiful, strong-willed, Lyanna Stark. And the story of her kidnapping, rape and death.

“Wha-how, what- what are you saying?”

“We’re saying,” Arya starts, with her usual candor, “That Father was right, you may not have our name, but you are a Stark…but you are also, a Targaryan.”

Jon feels his throat seize. He wants to yell, wants to demand an explanation, but no words will leave his mouth.”

Sansa reaches out to gently touch him on the shoulder.

“It doesn’t change how we feel about you. You’ll always be our brother, and to us, you’ll always be a Stark.”

“Does...does anyone else know this?”

The three look at each other, and let Bran speak.

“There were four other people on the boat with us when we went back, and they all remember. One of them is Howland Reed.”

Bran waits for a look of recognition, to be sure that Jon remembered Father speaking of the man.

“He is the only other person alive who was with Father the day you were born. And he can confirm the rest of our story as well.”

“Is he-”

“Him and his son and daughter are on the road north to find us. They want to change things as much as we do. We were hoping he would get here before you and Benjen leave so we could do everything at once- we weren’t even sure if we should tell anyone at first. But we had to.”

When Bran finishes, Arya interjects.

“You were still alive, and helping us try and save the realm. You should have been with us when we went back. But you’re here now, and we’re going to help you. We couldn't just send you off not knowing anything. Especially since, you know, with the Targaryan thing, had to make sure you wouldn't find a way to try and fuck a blood relative.”

All of them groan and this and Sansa peels off one of her gloves and flings it at Arya

Jon tilts his head up to look at them.

“How are you even sure that anything will be different?”

“Because it already is,” Sansa tells him gravely.

“I wasn’t here this time before, “ Bran admits, “The fall didn’t just break my leg. I was comatose for a month, and when I woke up, I was partially paralyzed. I haven’t walked properly in nearly ten years.”

Well shit, Jon thinks, this is so much bigger than anything he’s ever considered. It’s overwhelming. There are so many things he wants to ask. He looks over all their faces, and swears he can see the ghosts of those years worn on top of their youth.

“There are so many things I want to ask you.”

“We don’t have much time,” Arya admits, “You’re leaving in a day. But we’ll answer what we can.”

“Especially since we have a favor or two to ask of you,” Sansa adds.

“Nearly ten years…” Jon says slowly, “What’s the most shocking thing that happened?”

“Arya got married,” Sansa inserts abruptly, before anyone can object.

“Really Sansa? You lead with that?” Arya mutters.

“I was pretty shocked when I found out, and I’ve seen nearly everything that’s ever happened.” Bran says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Arya crosses her arms over her chest and scowls.

“If I’m getting dragged out in the mud here, we should bring up that time you lived in a cave for a year and came out an all seeing bird prophet.”

“That’s a pretty long story,” Bran retorts.

Jon leans back against the blanket. He’ll listen as long as they can talk.

#game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #gendrya #time travel fix it #fic

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downeysgirl94 · 6 years

Text

Shuri Comes To Visit Part 2 Ch 13 of Cure for Nightmares

Im Sorry It Took me so long to update this fic.

Tony followed Peter into the room and saw Steve shaking T’Challa’s hand while Natasha was greeting Shuri. Tony ginned at peter and pushed him forward till they met the group.

“Nice to see you again T’Challa” Tony said grinning at the man

T’Challa stepped forward and shook Tony’s Hand “Likewise Mr. Stark I am pleasantly surprised you decided to make an appearance during my visit” T’Challa said smiling.

“well The old man over there let me know you were coming this weekend and rather than risk him breaking anything he asked me to come by to show you and the princess around the missus has the little one taken care of at home and this one was missing the others so it was a no brainer to come by” tony said grinning putting an arm on peter’s shoulder.

T’Challa nodded at tony response then glanced at peter

“Hello Peter how are you?” T’Challa asked as he held out his hand for peter to shake.

Peter excitedly shook the man hand before tripping over words “Hello- King- T’Challa – Sir- I’m- good- uhm- how- are- you?”

Tony and the others tried to hide their smirk but it was hard while they heard Shuri burst out laughing.

“Cat got your tongue colonizer?” Shuri asked

Peter blushed

“Sister is nice” T’Challa said sternly

Shuri responded by sticking out her tongue at him.

“Peter ignore her. It’s alright and you can call me T’Challa and I’m very well thank you for asking.” He said smiling

“Alight T’Challa” peter said smiling

“Oh you start calling him by his first immediately but took you like a year to even start calling me by my first name” tony said crossing his arms and pouting.

“Well sorry tony but he’s a king you do what he says, you’re just my pseudo-dad I don’t have to listen all the time” peter said shrugging

The others just grinned at the pair while they bickered

“Stark I know my Sister was wanting a tour of your lab while we visited but we have some important business to discuss before.” T’Challa said addressing Tony

“Steve mentioned you had some business to talk me about. How about peter shows Shuri around the lab, he knows what everything is and how it works. Hmm?”

“I don’t see a problem with it how about you sister?” T’Challa said asking Shuri

“Well if this colonizer is as smart as you claim I don’t mind being bored by inferior technology” Shuri said shrugging

“Hey princess I take offence we both know you like my technology” tony said grinning

“Whatever Stark” Shuri said walking past him following peter out of the room

“I have a feeling you’ll be regretting leaving those two alone by the end of the day” Steve said as he followed Tony and T’Challa into the next room.

Peter was describing one of the iron man suits to an obviously bored Shuri

“Yawn all this stuff is boring I made it when I was in like 10.” Shuri said wandering away from peter.

Something caught her eye it was one of the Spiderman suits

“Now finally something worth seeing” Shuri near shouted causing peter to walk over to her. When he saw what he was looking at he stopped.

“Why didn’t Stark tell me he made Spiderman’s Suit” Shuri said excitedly

Peter said rubbing his neck “uhm not sure maybe he promised Spiderman he wouldn’t tell anyone?”

“Sure that’s totally believable” Shuri said laughing “you got to get better at lying”

“I’m not lying” peter said nervously

Shuri turned to him and started singing “Why the fuck you lying? Why you always lying? Omg stop fucking lying.

Peter just stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh my god you just quoted a vine” peter said amazed

“Of course I did, vine is amazing it sucks it doesn’t exist anymore” Shuri said grinning

“There’s a bunch of compilations on YouTube I watch all the time” peter said grinning glad he distracted her from Spiderman.

“Same hmm you a lot cooler than I thought” Shuri said smugly

“Thanks I think?” peter chuckled

“So anyways where were we Spiderman right, I’ve seen all his videos”

“Same” peter answered instantly tense

“Peter you are clueless aren’t you?” Shuri said laughing

“What”

“I can put two in two together I know your Spiderman”

“Wait how?” Peter asked shocked

“Well for one you just confirmed it, another your “pseudo-dad” makes Spiderman’s suit and Spiderman shows up so does his intern or whatever your cover story was. Lastly Spiderman wasn’t sighted until after Thanos was defeated at the same time you supposedly went missing.” Shuri said raising an eyebrow.

Peter just nodded before putting his head in his hands.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed by I’m impressed by what you can do”

“Thanks Shuri” peter said smiling

“I’m very curious about you web formula is that come from the suit?” Shuri asked

“No I designed the web formula originally Mr. stark has helped me upgrade it” peter answered

“Where’s it come from then?”

Peter pushed up his sleeves and revealed his web shooters.

Shuri smiled while studied them. “You need to come to Wakanda sometime so you can tinker with me the master” Shuri said smiling

“Definitely Tony said we could go at some point but he probably is waiting till I’m on break from school.” Peter replied

“From how smart he was describing you better genius school.” Shuri said grinning

“Yeah I go to a tech and science high school.” Peter said smiling

“Good you got a school to train your skills” Shuri said smiling

Peter and Shuri started watching vines for a bit. Before peter realized how much time had passed.

“You think there done yet?” peter asked

“Probably why?” Shuri said shrugging

“I’m guessing you don’t want to be cooped up in the compound your whole trip is there any place you want to see?”

“Oh My God yes” Shuri said excitedly

They both got up and ran out of the lab.

The Adults were currently in the common room talking, when the teens ran off the elevator.

“Tony” “Brother” They called at the same time.

“Ok children one at a time what’s up?” tony said grinning at peter

“Well I was guessing that Shuri wanted to do some sightseeing while see was he can we go some places please” peter begged

“Told you they bond quick Tony” Steve called from the couch smiling at them.

Tony thought for a moment before glancing over at T’Challa “T’Challa what do you think can we let them loose on society alone?” Tony quipped

“Hmm sister where did you want to see?” T’Challa asked

“so many things Coney Island, central park, hell I want to go to a Starbucks and see why Okoye wants one in Wakanda so bad” Shuri said so excitedly.

T’Challa chuckled at the mention of his bodyguard.

“Sister I have no problem with you guys going sightseeing but I feel better if an adult was present” T’Challa replied

Shuri rolled her eyes

“I was about to the same thing T’Challa”

“Why has god forsaken us” peter muttered

Tony looked very confusedly at peter.

Shuri just started giggling.

Making T’Challa raise an eyebrow at her.

“Pete I’m not going to ask” “but come on your windows closing let go princess” tony said as he got off the couch and grabbed his keys. “I’m assuming your fine with me chaperoning” tony asked T’Challa, he nodded. Rhodey called as the three stepped into the elevator “it’s not like you’re not just giant child anyways”

“Shut it platypus” tony replied as the doors closed.

They go into one of Tony Audis and left the garage.

Tony stopped at the closest Starbucks. Peter Today Shuri to order a Carmel Frappuccino she did, peter ordered a vanilla Frappuccino and tony ordered the biggest black coffee he could get before paying for all of them. Shuri of course loved the drink. Peter pulled out his phone and took a picture of Shuri and her drink and then they took a selfie.

On the way to Central park, they were stuck in a bit of traffic because of road work. Peter and Shuri saw the road work sign at the same time and grinned at each other. Before both saying “Road work ahead… You better hope it does” tony glanced in the back mirror. Before shaking his head.

“That’s one of those vines or meme things isn’t it, Steve wasn’t wrong when he said how similar you to were” tony said before looking back at the road.

Once they got to the park peter dragged to all the top tourist stops tony followed slowly behind giving the kids a bit of space. Peter showed her Belvedere Castle, Strawberry Fields, Bethesda Fountain and Terrace, Loeb Boathouse, central park zoo and of course the Carousal . They took so many pictures that tony finally told them they had to hurry up if they wanted to go to Coney Island.

It was getting dark by the time they got to Coney Island. Which peter and Shuri didn’t care it made the rides better. Tony quickly bought their tickets and let them loose.

They rode the cyclone multiple times first, then the thunderbolt, then the soaring’ Eagle ending on the Spook –A-Rama. Tony rode a few of the rides with them but mostly waited for them to be done. Tony bought them some funnel cakes and other carnival food. Peter won Shuri a bear from a carnival game. Peter and Shuri had taken so many pictures before tony was close to dragging them to the car.

“Guys you got all weekend to hang don’t act like you won’t see each other again” tony said chuckling as he drove back to the compound.

Once back Shuri carried her bear to her room and hugged peter and said “Thanks for today peter it was so fun, good night” and waved at tony before leaving.

Tony walked over to peter and put his arm on his shoulder before speaking “I’m glad you guys connected Pete” tony said grinning

“I’m glad too she’s really cool she invited me to go to Wakanda sometime” peter said excitedly

“We will Pete once we got time” tony said ruffling his hair

Tony began to walk to his room when peter stopped him by pulling the man into a hug. This tony returned.

“Thanks for today it’s been one of the best days ever” peter said smiling into tony chest

“No problem kiddo I was happy to see you happy, and can you believe you were freaking out this morning” tony said chuckling

“I know I was nervous over nothing” peter said grinning

“Yup now you know to listen to you pseudo-dad all the time” tony said raising his eyebrow.

Peter chuckled “yeah sure tony, whatever you say”

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thathalloweengal · 6 years

Text

Christmas Eve at Wayne Manor (fanfic)

Bruce Wayne threw another log on the fire, it crackled angrily at him but its warmth soothed his weary bones. It was Christmas Eve and the newly renovated Wayne Manor had been decorated thoroughly, bright red and gold tinsel was draped from the oak staircase, a massive fern tree stood tall in the lounge and hundreds of tiny multicolored lights were hanging everywhere. The coffee table even had freshly baked cookies on it, still warm from the oven and spreading the smell of cinnamon throughout the house.

Bruce had one hell of a night, some idiot with powers called Gentleman Ghost decided to hold Mayor Grange and some city council members to ransom. When Bruce got the call it seemed like a cake walk but he didn't expect some damn councilman to be in on it. One maniac in a pig mask, two stab wounds and a pair of bruised ribs later, Bruce felt far older than he was. Ten years ago he would have been ready for them. The two newcomers to Gotham would have been taken down by what onlookers would only be able to describe as some kind of Bat demon, instead of that fifty year old playing dress up with kevlar.

"A dollar for your thoughts, Master Wayne?"

Not for the first time in his career, Alfred Pennyworth cut through Bruce's self criticism.

"Maybe when I was a kid, my thoughts are a little more expensive now"

"Damn inflation rates" Alfred sighed, sitting down in a nearby recliner and nursing a glass of what was probably cognac

"The guests should be arriving shortly" Alfred said after a moment

"Yeah they should be, you did a great job with all this by the way" Bruce nodded at the decorations and the tree

"Thank you sir, between being tactical support and stitching up near fatal wounds, I too believe that my calling lies in holiday planning"

"You didn't do it, did you?"

"Unfortunately I did not have the time but Mr. Allen thankfully stepped into my shoes"

"That kid's got a lot of heart" Bruce smiled

"Makes one remember brighter Christmases, doesn't it? I just wish he'd stop calling me Elfred"

"I always wanted you to have an irritating nickname" Bruce giggled

"Well bully for you sir, I suppose you are absolutely elated with Master Allen's choice for you?"

The look of confusion on Bruce's face prompted Alfred's reply "Bat Dad"

Bruce grimaced on the outside but deep down kept a slight warm feeling of contentment to himself, it had been a long time since anyone thought of him as a father figure.

"Any luck finding Curry?" Bruce asked

"Won't answer any communications but satellites have pinpointed him in a large stretch of ocean, near where the legendary city of Atlantis was once alleged to stand"

"More turkey for us" Bruce dismissed

A bolt of blue lightning sped into the room, carrying Barry Allen along it, he was wearing a sweater with a half eaten gingerbread man on it.

"Speaking of turkey, I don't know if you guys know this but I'm a vegetarian"

"Your dietary needs have already been catered for, Mr. Allen"

"You're awesome, Elfred"

Alfred rolled his eyes and took a long sip of cognac. Bruce decided to give his old friend a break from the young speedster by bringing back a Wayne family tradition.

"Barry, would you mind heading over to the cave and picking up the package beside the car?"

"The Batmobile?" Barry beamed

"The Batmobile" Bruce confirmed with a reassuring smile

Barry was gone in a flash, back into his blue lightning and out of the room. A few moments later he reappeared with a large crate as tall as he was, it had his lightning symbol on it.

"What is this?" Barry asked, slightly concerned

"Only one way to find out"

Barry raced around the crate, unbuckling straps and somehow removing screws, before finally removing the cover. Inside was a new costume, something that Bruce had his company create as a gift to Barry. Its design was much more refined than the current costume and had cutting edge Wayne Tech inside.

"Early present" Bruce explained

In the blink of an eye, Barry changed into the costume. It looked impressive on him, more like high tech armor than something someone had lovingly thrown together from NASA's dumpster. It's finish was a darker shade of red than Barry had previously sported and small holographic displays were already updating him on crimes around the city.

"Holy crap, this is so cool"

Barry superspeeded Bruce into a hug before saying something that sounded like:

"I'mGonnaTakeItForATestRunThanksBatDad"

Another blink and the blue lightning had once more carried Barry out of the room and through the front doors. Alfred smirked.

"That should keep him busy for at least a few minutes"

"Been getting under your feet?"

"Like you wouldn't believe, you are aware that he moved in upstairs?"

"Who do you think gave him the room"

Alfred chuckled a little before becoming a little more reserved.

"Does he know about the..."

Bruce cut Alfred off, immediately shaking his head, a matter of importance lay in the air between them.

"I wanted everyone to know" Bruce said softly "I'll tell them tonight"

Three knocks at the front door cut through their conversation.

"More of your unruly children, I think" Alfred grinned

Bruce got to his feet as Alfred topped up his cognac with a bottle from a nearby cabinet. Bruce pulled a massive door open to be greeted by a gust of cold wind, Clark Kent, Martha Kent and Lois Lane. Bruce took their coats and led them over to a sofa. He poured Lois and Martha drinks from the cabinet, Clark asked if he could get some hot cocoa instead, which Alfred kindly obliged, rising from his recliner and making his way into the kitchen.

"How's Perry doing?" Bruce asked, Lois and Clark's boss was an old acquaintance of his

"Same as always this time of year" Lois answered, taking a sip of her beverage "Santa hat on, singing Christmas songs older than the building, it's adorable"

"He's also very generous" Martha added

"But only to this one" Lois squeezed Clark's hand "He got the highest bonus that Perry has ever given anyone"

Bruce raised an eyebrow and Clark blushed.

"I don't think our cover story of how Clark Kent and Superman died around the same time and came back around the same time but definitely aren't the same person washes with Perry"

"He's too good of a reporter" Bruce replied

"We talking about the same Perry White that buries stories because they're too quote un quote invigorating for our readers" Clark spoke up

"Well he used to be a good reporter" Bruce said sheepishly "He rumbled me as the Bat a couple of days after he met me for an interview"

"How did you handle that?"

"Ever wonder how the Planet stays afloat despite hemorrhaging subscriptions and sales?"

The two reporters froze, no doubt wondering if Perry was blackmailing him or if Bruce was lying. It was unlikely that they knew they were talking to the secret owner of the Daily Planet.

Another knock to the door provided Bruce with the perfect moment to leave the three. Opening the door, once more, he found Diana arm in arm with a woman who must've been at least seven feet tall, they were both wearing stunning dresses. Bruce showed them inside and over to the Kents. Diana explained that her companion was called Mala, she was an Amazon and had just been exiled from their Island. They went back a very long time together and were now picking up their relationship.

Bruce had never seen Diana so happy, she was absolutely gleaming with joy, holding her partner's hand and joining in with the rest of them laughing at Clark's hot cocoa mustache.

A flash of blue lightning returned to the room, dropping off Victor Stone and Victor's father Silas.

"Look who I found outside" Barry announced, trying to hide his broken holographic displays and partially destroyed costume from Bruce

With one more flash, Barry changed back into his gingerbread man sweater and jeans. Bruce made a mental note to ask him about his misadventure later, but for the time being simply hugged Victor and shook Silas's hand, before pouring them out drinks.

The holiday party started well enough, Barry and Victor were talking about video games, Lois and Clark were sharing incredible "How we met" stories with Diana and Mala, and the sounds of jingle bell rock played throughout the old house. Bruce hadn't seen it this alive and full of love since his parents were there.

Bruce felt himself slipping into the past, he could almost hear his father telling him that he could open one present early. Feeling a little overcome with emotion, Bruce put on his coat and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air and to calm his nerves.

Bruce wanted nothing more than to be back inside, be with this new family he had helped create, but he knew that he would have to leave them soon enough. Why prolong the inevitable. Over the last five years, he had been through a lot, both mentally and physically. Jason's death, the fallout from the battle of Metropolis, his obsessive crusade against Clark and all of the guilt that followed after. Even helping to kill monsters like Luthor's creature and Steppenwolf didn't alleviate the demons and the damage inside Bruce.

The situation was made even worse by the fact that In the last couple of years Bruce found himself having nightmares, very real feeling nightmares. They'd always start differently, sometimes on a ruined Earth with soldiers wearing Superman's symbol, other times in an alley with Bruce himself snapping the Joker's neck. These dreams would have him being captured or buried alive or even breathing in the Joker's poison. They always ended the same way, regardless of if it was Clark, Joker or some mad man claiming to be his own father, Bruce would always be too slow, too beat up, too arrogant, Bruce always died.

Before he woke from these dreams though, Bruce would have a vision of Barry. Not the Barry currently in Wayne Manor, dancing terribly to the music of George Michael but an older, more tired looking Barry. He always gave advice and warnings before leaving. Advice that had helped calm Clark when he was brought back to life. He told Bruce that Lois was the key, had he not done that, Bruce expected things would have gone much worse than they did. Occasionally Barry yelled about being in the middle of a Crisis, about needing to correct something called a fractured timeline and told Bruce to be prepared for worse days to come.

These dreams and every night he patrolled Gotham convinced Bruce that he was seriously incapable of dealing with whatever the future held. Tomorrow as his friends celebrated, he would be on a plane to a city called Nanda Parbat, where he would seek the mythical Lazarus Pit it was infamous for. He hoped that it could heal his body and purge his soul of the pain that weighed him down.

Most people who looked for the Pit died climbing the mountain that hid the city, those who survived disappeared, never to be heard from again. That didn't put Bruce off however, he had inside information that the Pit lay somewhere within the palace of the Sensai, the ancient leader of Nanda Parbat. Bruce's only problems were getting to it through an entire league of assassins and any side effects the Pit might cause him. The only person he knew who had done this before wasn't exactly the picture of sanity, of course neither was Bruce.

"Only you would brood at Christmas" teased a voice approaching him through the snow

Holding a small stack of presents, Commissioner Jim Gordon smiled comfortingly at Bruce.

"Sorry I'm late, some damn fool decided to save the Mayor and tie me up in paperwork and reporters"

"Sounds like a real hero type" Bruce replied "A billionaire playboy like myself wouldn't know anything about that"

Bruce couldn't keep a straight face, Bruce and Jim embraced and kissed. His lips were chapped and he tasted of tobacco but it was Bruce's favorite feeling. When they seperated, Jim looked like something was troubling him.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked

"I was just wondering, will this be the last time we do that?"

"Hopefully not" Bruce said playfully but Jim looked somber

"I know that you have to go, that for you to stay fighting in a world of super crazies you need this elixir of mumbo jumbo, but I worry"

"That I'll come back different?"

"That you won't come back at all" Jim said, sadly "Bruce I care about you, I don't want you to end up dead in some snowy hell hole"

"Good thing I'm Batman then" Bruce said, taking Jim's hand in his own "One thing you can count on in Gotham, even a small time crook could tell you, when Jim Gordon stands on top of Police HQ and lights that big Signal up, the Batman comes running, might take him a while to get there but he'll always show up"

Jim looked like he was trying to suppress a smile but it quickly broke through.

"What will we do without you?"

"Oh I'm sure you'll cope for a while but just in case I did ask Dick to look in on you from time to time"

"You two are talking again?"

"I know it's a Christmas miracle" Bruce chuckled

"I'll keep your damn oversized nightlight running" Jim agreed "Might scare some superstitious cowards"

Hearing a commotion inside, Bruce and Jim glanced through one of the windows. Barry had supersped an Elf hat onto a sleeping Alfred, Diana was dancing with Martha Kent and Clark and Victor were playing Twister, though Bruce wasn't sure who brought it, Mala and Lois were refereeing.

"You going in?" Jim asked "I've always wanted to meet Superman" he grinned cheekily

"Only if you're my plus one" Bruce said, more cheesily than he had originally hoped

Bruce walked back into Wayne Manor, Jim close by his side. Bruce had no idea what Nanda Parbat would do to him but for now at least he was content sipping tea, giving presents and sharing this night with the people he cared for most.

#Batman #Bruce Wayne #Christmas Eve #Barry Allen #The Flash #Alfred Pennyworth #Christmas #DCEU #Worlds of DC #Superman #Wonder Woman #Jim Gordon

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