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blackstarchanx3new · 9 months

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Creations AU, But I obnoxiously over explain it PT 3

Pages 61-90

Back at it again with Mike and his silly little adventures in Freddy's.

Huh.

What'd you see.

Stop being vague.

Who are these creepy masked people???

The bullies from FNAF four

Damn if only there was an entire side comic FNAF 4 cough cough I made about them that will explain that lol. We'll get to the side comics I promise. ;)

Whatever he saw, he's terrified to re-live.

Ouch.

Someone got hurt-

What the hell are you apologizing for exactly?

What'd you do?

None of those people in the masks were you...

We can tell cause they actually had a skin tone lmfao.

Oh that could use some cream.

So that's why "the bite" kept making Mike uncomfortable...

This kid got his head munched on.

And it wasn't ACTION but LACK of action he's cowering in fear from a child over.

Side note this panel out of context is hilarious and I won't pretend it's not.

Hi Bonnie! :D

He is the best.

Damn okay.

What's reality?

Ominous poster of the yellow Freddy for sure isn't important.

Haha Mike ya have episodes like this often? Often enough he composes himself afterwards.

He's utterly bamboozled Bonnie apparently SAW the kid he was chasing so...maybe.

That smirk is unsettling.

So this part of the building used to be "Fredbear's" the place Michael's favorite animatronic "Spring Bonnie" is from and mentioned earlier. Fredbear is clearly the one who bit the child.

I'd be scared too Bonnie thousand yard stares are concerning.

That's hysterical coming from the clearly possessed giant rabbit but go off I guess-

He's obviously trying to make Mike feel better which is nice of him. UwU

Aww. Hug how sweet.

So now we know a bit more about Mike. Let's review:

This nameless kid Mike saw die was obviously Michael's brother Cody Afton from all the context clues we've been given:

Mike's reaction to Micheal bringing up Fredbears, due to it being a traumatic event.

Cody being "Bit"

Mike doesn't seem TOO sure they're the same person but we know it is.

Mike blames himself for not doing anything at the time to stop Cody's head from getting crunched.

Mike's grasp on reality is...Flimsy. Self admittedly he thinks it's flimsy and he knows when he needs to go home when it's too much.

Mike is desperate for comfort over his trauma with Freddy's and Bonnie's a cool dude who'll give it.

You'd think Bonnie would be a bully from his intro but he's actually a super caring guy, he just can't stand people who purposely cause problems.

Bro comes in clutch with the hugs.

You can see why Freddy would run to this guy to solve issues haha.

So from those first panels we know 1 thing:

He had no clue Ennard was in the room with them. So add stalking to the list of creepy things that clown robot has done so far.

My god it's an old man-

He's Micheal's dad! :D William Afton!

Alright I'm gonna stop being goofy and vague for a moment:

It's obvious he's evil as fuck and for the people who like to bitch he has a personality in this comic or ANY media where people give William a personality: Stop making excuses as to why you write him one note you cowards, you can give him a personality without condoning what he does lmfao. Only a bad writer would say you HAVE to make him one note for him to work. Fucking morons actually you are stupid if you believe that.

If you wanna make him cartoonishly evil with NO redeeming qualities: Cool. Whatever. Just shut the fuck up don't act like yours is "Better" because you can't think of ways to make him anymore interesting.

Everyone's William caters to their tastes. Nobody's is PERFECT. I only judge stupid vapid bitches who complain about other interpretations while blowing smoke up their own asses. Because an ego isn't pretty on anyone lmfao.

The idea giving William a personality makes you a terrible writer/person needs to die I'm sorry that's such a stupid as fuck idea idk who came up with it but kindly stop writing and stop giving writing advice. UwU With love~ From me!~

Anyways I've spoiled William is a bad person who does a bad thing, Won't say what yet but all the death in the building can give ya some ideas. And apparently because William is bad guy there's "Rules" on how to write him. From a bunch of 12 year olds who dunno how to write but I digress.

I detest the idea of that. Because let's be real all FNAF characters are blank slates and the idea of squashing creativity is dumb. Literally go wild with your FNAF AUs.

Rant aside: William seems to be a bit of...An ass.

Just slightly manipulative and rude language towards his only living child it's fine-

Ah yes. He also demands physical affection.

We get Michael's age, he's 23 aka still a damn baby.

Also, William and Michael are British.

Since we're on voices:

Mike Schmidt would sound like Legoshi from Beastars lmfao. I imagine Bonnie with a new York accent. Freddy sounds like a lady.

We finally get to see what Ennard and Michael interact like together...

Michael doesn't seem to put up with him.

Ennard's kind of a prick.

Also apparently they have a HISTORY.

One that involves Michael talking shit about his father...

For people who know shit about the games: Yes Ennard is possessed by the same person from the games.

Hah Michael tricked him.

Okay so everyone in Michael's life is manipulative towards him.

Neat.

Also Ennard is a raging hypocrite.

Also conformation William is an owner not just a robot maker. (Can't remember if this was brought up earlier again some of these pages are 2 years old lmfao)

Also this comic assumes you got SOME Fnaf knowledge. I'd hope it's still interesting for those of you who are here for my other stuff! XD

Like ouch Ennard ya don't gotta be such a jerk.

Also Mike is cute.

This panel unironically is one of my favorites because this man doesn't scream in terror at any of the terrifying robots:

It's the gay guy he's trying to befriend he screams like a little girl at.

Another help wanted joke about the Faz token under the cupcake in the office.

Michael just wants to hang out with Mike obviously.

Despite all the shit he's clearly going through dude puts on a very pointy smile.

This man is built like a cat.

Lol they made pizza together. How cute.

Hah bro is apologizing for something he didn't even do nor has control over-

Is it obvious Michael is abused yet?

Going real unsubtle here: Everything about Michael shows off he has been abused in some way shape or form.

Michael wants to think he's being friendly for reals despite clearly having second thoughts due to Ennard.

Bro is desperate for a connection with someone.

Also

Pff.

Mike c'mon Bonnie's so sweet how could you- X'D

Few things: William doesn't "Let" Michael do things.

If it wasn't apparent he was controlling as hell before it sure is now.

Also Michael is embarrassed of his interests.

Also the locker:

Again we see an instance of Michael going by "Mike" as his locker literally just has a piece of paper tapped over it adding the rest of his name lmao.

Michael is used to being toyed around with that is sad.

Bonnie continues to be a sweetheart even when he's off screen. X'D

Mike attempts to relate to Michael's interests once again.

Also another instance of Bonnie lying his ass off about how close Michael and him are:

He knows Michael's locker combination and puts gifts in there lmao.

Mike clearly likes that plush a lot. Maybe he likes Chica a lot lmao. Who knows.

One thing to note:

If Michael's working day shifts and night shifts...when does he sleep?

Grant it, it isn't ALL THE TIME but still bro's sleep schedule must be OBLITERATED.

Oh hi giant floating head in the hallway you're stalking Michael too huh?

This is just two sides of someone's brain arguing with itself that the entire positive interaction they just had was terrible AND the other party hates them.

And that comparison only makes more sense down the road.

Yeah Michael you tell him. You don't need to take that from him.

Jeremy's a cool dude.

Also the fact the kids pay no mind to this argument is funny.

Also Ennard taking genuine offense to Jeremy being a better friend lmao. Anyone can be a better friend than Ennard. X'D

We hit the image limit but oh boy. So much joy in this update.

#Creations AU #fnaf creations au #fnaf au #fnaf comic #fnaf fanart #fnaf art #fnaf 1 #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #mike schmidt #bonnie #freddy fazbear #fnaf 4 #fnaf 4 bullies #fnaf 4 cc #michael afton #micheal afton #fnaf 4 art #five nights at freddys

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hains-mae · 4 years

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Flowers - Pt. 5 (The End)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 (The End)

(Damian x Reader) Soulmate AU

The Flowers: @call-me-prodigy @annoylinglyaries @zphilophobiaz @comic-brew @biglilwing @awkwardspontaneity @lozzybowe @mariiecapo @distressedearie @diyosku @dracoaereum @thesuitelifeofafangirl @chims-kookies @blade-xingston @danicalifxrnia

Rating: T

Ages: Damian and you are 16, everyone’s ages follow after.

Summary: Soulmate AU where the wounds on your soulmate turns into a flower tattoo on your skin, if it heals with no scars the tattoo goes away, if it heals with a scar then the tattoo stays.

Notes: Wow that was a fun ride. But every story comes to an end, I hope you guys enjoy the final chapter! And thank you everyone who has taken their time to like, comment, and reblog. I appreciate it a lot <3

Disclaimer: I do not own DC. If I did, I wouldn’t make it as confusing as it is now.

Robin visited every other night after that. It was surreal to have a hero that you’ve so long admired become your frequent visitor. Then again, nothing seemed normal anymore.

“It’s past the convention week. How do you keep coming here?” I asked curiously one night.

Robin gave me a lopsided grin and tapped the side of his nose. “I have my ways.”

After Mom’s week long leave was up she begrudgingly had to go back to work. The hospital assured her that I was healing fairly well, and that I would be transferred to Gotham Hospital the following weekend.

I was never really lonely though. Besides the friendly staff, my midnight visitor always came right on time. I wondered why he would take the time. Maybe it was to get to know me better? Perhaps my speech that night managed to get through to him. I had hoped it was both.

If I was being honest though, I was a little more than glad he did. I had meant it when I told the boy that I found him intriguing. He was a tough nut to crack though. I couldn’t blame him.

During the day when I would shower, I’d trace the flowers across my frame and wonder just how much he had gone through.

Soul marks start to appear at 10 years of age. You could imagine the shock (and worry) my parents had gone through when they found me one day absolutely covered in flowers.

From a young age I would hide them. Always wearing my sleeves till my palms, my neck constantly covered with either my jacket, scarf or high placed collars. It wasn’t that I was ashamed, but Gotham liked to talk – and when you’re the subject of attention, then you’re an easy target for criminals.

As I got older, the marks around my neck forearms slowly faded. I had worried about my soul mate and their well-being. Now that I understood everything, it was a different type of worry all together. The kind that would sit at the pit of your stomach and tie knots, heavy enough to keep you on edge.

My T.V in the hospital room was always on the same channel, Gotham News. Every battle would have my heart clenching as the camera’s desperately tried to follow the fight. Most of the time’s they wouldn’t be able to capture the end, and I’d be left holding my breath.

That’s one other reason I looked forward to our nightly visits. I could relax knowing he was alright.

I still wasn’t sure what I felt for this enigma of a person. But I knew that I wanted to get closer.

“I have an idea.” Robin said one evening. There was a glint his eye, the mask was off since my mom wasn’t around anymore. “And it’s got something to do with your invention.”

I arched a brow. “The bullets are complete but I still have yet to finalize the counter measures.”

He nodded understandingly. “Counter affect can wait. We don’t want to encase anyone in rock at the moment, but I’m putting it out there since you wanted to help.”

Intrigued, I urged him to continue.

Damian was quite brilliant in his own way. After much thought and planning, we had about 3 more types of chemically enhanced concoctions laid out. All of which were to go through Batman before beginning the experimentation process. He has assured me that I would be leading the research team for that under Wayne Ent.

I couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital.

“Do you like sweets?” He asked randomly.

Arching a brow I studied him. He was slouched on the couch with his leg dangling on one side and a book in his hands.

Charles Dickens.

“Yes.” I said, noting his obvious attempt to look natural. “Do you?”

“On occasion.” The boy shifted a shoulder to mimic a shrug.

The very next visit he had a black bag slung across his shoulder. His face gave nothing away but from the times I’ve spent with him, I realised it was his eyes that did most of the talking.

“Whatcha got over there?” I asked curiously, scooting closer to him at the edge of the bed.

“Patience.” He said and pulled up the make shift table that was attached to the side of my bed. Placing a medium sized box on top, he carefully undid the lid and opened it. “I present to you, baklavas.”

In the dim light I saw that they were flaky, almost like a croissant. There were some with a mix of nuts, from pistachios to almonds. Others were plain but still looked heavenly. They gleamed with a moistness, as if coated with a syrupy substance. I picked one up and popped it into my mouth.

It burst with flavour and dissolved much too fast. I squeaked at the exotic taste.

“Oh my gosh these are so good.” I said, licking my thumb.

Robin looked pleased.

“You should have one.” I pushed the box towards him but he shook his head.

“They’re yours.” He said.

“Nonsense. Food always taste better when shared.” I picked another one up intending to eat it.

“If you insist.”

I had barely managed to register the wicked glint in his eye before he took hold of my wrist and brought my hand that was holding the sweet close to his mouth. He took it carefully from me in one easy motion and lightly licked my finger.

“You’re right. It does taste better when shared.”

I felt the burn on my cheeks and ears before I heard the warning blare of the heart monitor. Immediately, Robin slipped behind the couch just as the nurses for the nightshift burst into my room in a panic. They fussed over me as I repeatedly tried to tell them I was alright. My heart finally calmed and once they left, Robin got up covering his mouth. He was trying to keep himself from laughing.

-x-x-x-

The weekend came much faster than I had anticipated. When the doctors checked on my progress, they gave the thumbs up for me to be transferred to Gotham’s hospital. Mom was relieved, and wouldn’t stop fussing over me when we got there. I let it be though, thinking it was more for her own peace of mind than mine.

After that it was a short two weeks before I was fully discharged.

Robins visits never wavered though. If anything, he had stayed for longer periods of time. I got to know the boy under the mask more than I had hoped for and opened up in return more than I had intended.

I found out his brothers were vigilantes too. He pointed them all out one evening with a family picture he’d secretly stashed in his wallet. They were a “thorn” to his side — as he had so eloquently described, but I could see just how much he loved them. That was another thing I learnt about him, his speech patterns were very posh. He liked to use formal names and slang was not completely in his vocabulary. I asked him about that one time, to which he only replied “another time”. It was probably a touchy subject, where he exactly grew up.

His favourite colour was green, and his adoration for animals was as deep as black hole. It was crazy how perfect my mind painted him to be, and the more I knew, the harder it was to ignore the feelings growing inside me.

He enjoys reading, but would gladly spend the day locked in his room with his tablet and pen drawing the day away. He is good both in traditional and digital art, and sometimes dabbles in graphic design when he feels like it. He prefers his tea without any additives, but would not hesitate to pour bucket loads of milk and sugar in his coffee during the rare moments he drinks it.

I could list everything down but it would just solidify my attraction to him, and honestly I doubt this was he needed right now. Juggling a double life sounded a lot more stressful than he showed it to be. He hardly ever talked about it but from the amount of flowers blooming on me, it was difficult to see it any other way but exhausting. He’d kick butt at night, get hurt, then go to school the very next day like nothing happened.

He arrived one evening like he normally did and I had rushed up to pull off his glove. I felt a sting earlier and found a Sakura branch littered with pink flowers. I was right, his arm was soaked in red, and the gash looked bad.

“It’s just a scratch.” He promised me.

I didn’t reply. Taking him straight to the bathroom, I rinsed out the remaining blood and addressed the wound. After bandaging him up I finally looked into his eyes and showed him just how worried I was.

That evening we sat next to each other, with our fingers intertwined and his thumb randomly brushing against my knuckles.

-x-x-x-

Finally I was able to return home. Being able to lie down on my own bed, inside my own house, I could let loose and properly relax. I threw myself onto the soft comforters that smelled like fabric softener and smiled to myself.

Home sweet home.

But not for long, I reminded myself that this evening I would be dining with the Wayne’s. Swallowing hard, I hurried my face onto the pillows. I can’t mess this up, not after everything they’ve done for me.

Damian’s smirking face suddenly came to mind, and all his welcomed visits. It made my stomach grow warm. Remembering us sharing the sweets he gifted – soft lips against my fingers.

I groaned into the pillow, the room was getting a little hot. Getting up gingerly, as to not aggravate the newly healed stitches, I manoeuvred my way to the window and pushed it open. The cold evening air felt good against my heated skin. I sighed in content.

If I were being honest, I didn’t know what exactly was happening between us. I didn’t know if I wanted anything to happen between us. Wouldn’t it be weird, considering that I’d be interning for his dad in just a couple of months. Possibly work there if my luck doesn’t run out first. Not to mention WHO he was.

You’re just a normal girl, I chided myself. Not someone important enough to stand beside such a prestigious boy and his ridiculously wealthy family.

But even then – I found myself wondering. Seeking. Imagining… What if we were to become something more? What if it works? What if we fall in –

“Y/n!” Mom’s voice broke through my reverie, waking me up from the needless train of thought.

Closing my window, I poked my head out the door and found her putting on a bracelet.

“Are you ready? The cab is nearly here.” She asked.

I nodded and took a step closer to her. Looking quickly at the vanity mirror in the hallway, I gave myself a once over to make sure everything was in place. I had on a slightly fitting turtle neck sweater, paired with a high waisted pleated skirt and dark stockings. On my feet I sported on my boots. It was safe to assume no one would be able to see my soul marks.

My mom grabbed her purse and headed downstairs. I followed close behind her, handing her her coat before locking up the front door.

The cab driver arrived a few minutes in, and we drove off straight to Wayne Manor.

“This is exciting isn’t it?” She said to me with a lift in her voice, as she exited the cab to get the gates opened.

Once we could enter, we were greeted with a very large land that was pristinely kept. The grass was cut evenly, and the trees lining the estate were trimmed to perfection. Bushes were perfectly shaped into different animals, and flowers systematically grown to create swirls and shapes beside the road. A big fountain was situated just in front of the mansion while a man in a black suit waited beside the opened doors.

We exited the cab after paying and did our best to take it all in without looking like fishes out of water.

“Ah, Mrs. & Ms. Y/l/n.” It was the man who I saw pick up Damian that one night in Metropolis appeared. I also remembered him in the family photograph. His accent was thickly laced with British poise. “My name is Alfred Pennyworth, I shall be you’re attendant for the evening.”

“Thank you.” Mom was quick to compose herself.

As soon as I entered the house I felt my breath stolen away. It was huge. Everything looked so new and polished.

I barely registered my mom and Alfred chatting away as he led her to the dining hall.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

I nearly jumped at the voice that startled me. Whipping my head around, I found Jason standing with his hands in his pockets.

“I remember my first time coming in here. Completely floored.” He chucked.

I waved a small greeting. “Everything looks so –“

“Expensive? Exorbitant? Grand?” He tried to guess.

“Beautiful.” I breathed out.

He laughed. “Not what I expected. But you’re full of surprises aren’t you.”

I blushed. “Ah, I’m not sure about that. I’m just me.”

“Hey, no stealing our guest before dinner.” Dick walked down the stair case with Tim beside him.

“Feeling better Y/n?” Tim asked as we grouped just below the stairs.

“Yeah, thank you.” I answered, suddenly feeling flustered as they surrounded me.

Stay calm.

“Don’t be nervous.” Dick said with an air of comfort.

I wanted to ask what made him think so, but he answered before I even began to articulate the words.

“You’re fidgeting like a college student during a thesis debate.” He said simply.

“You’re… very good at reading people.” I arched a brow at him.

“One of my many amazing abilities” He winked.

Jason let out an air of playful frustration and pulled Dick aside. “And now you’re stealing her. Can’t hold a normal conversation can you Dickie, always a flirt.”

“First of all – do I need to remind you who mostly does all the talking during dad’s parties. And second of all – I am not a flirt. I can’t help it if I’m charming.” Dick mocked a suave look and shot it as his brother.

Jason looked like he was about to gag and Tim was less than pleased. I laughed at their antics.

“What’s funny?” Damian appeared beside me. I jumped and held a hand to my racing heart.

“Jeez, do all of you have a talent for sneaking up on people?” I wheezed out, trying to gather my bearings.

They all grinned at me without answering.

Robins, my inner muse whispered. I brushed off the thought as quick as it had come.

We had made it to the dining area just in time for Alfred to begin serving the meals. My mother was already chatting up a storm with Mr. Wayne. A wine glass in hand and a slight tint to her cheeks. She looked happy.

I began walking towards the seat beside my mother when Damian pulled out the chair like a gentleman. I bit the inside of my cheek and mumbled a thank you.

He took the space beside me and the rest of his brothers seated themselves opposite us.

As we opened our plates for dinner, I was amazed to see how well it was presented. Mr. Pennyworth continued to serves other dishes, and once he was done he left the room.

The food tasted just as good as it looked.

Easy conversation wafted around us, the usual topics of school, and future plans. Mr. Wayne brought up the internship which I nearly gushed over due to my excitement. Damian held back a laugh with a cough when he noticed my little slip up before I composed myself again. I bumped his knee under the table and playfully glared at him. He smirked and bumped me back.

“My compliments to the chef Mr. Wayne.” Mom said.

“I’ll be sure to tell him.” He smiled through a glass of wine. How many glasses in were they at this point? Damian and I were the only ones who weren’t allowed so both our glasses were filled with water and juice.

“And, please,” Mr. Wayne continued. “Call me Bruce.”

“Hey, we should give the women a tour.” Dick suggested. “I’m sure you’ll both love it.”

Jason and Tim had excused themselves, and I had an inkling as to what they were up to. Patrols were a common thing, as Damian told me.

And so with Dick and Bruce leading, my mother and I followed as they showed off the grandness of the manor.

I couldn’t help but be awestruck all over again. The library was huge. Their shelves towered from ceiling to floor, and filled with all kinds of books. From novels to more informative documents. I recognised a couple of titles from the times Damian spent the night reading.

The sunroom was next. The glass was near invisible. I took in the sight of the gorgeous garden just beyond the panels, being able to outline a gazebo at the far end with flowers twisting around its pillars. I unconsciously touched my stomach where the stitches were, randomly pondering what kind of flower had bloomed from such a brutal wound.

“Are you okay?” Damian was beside me immediately and his hand supported my elbow. His voice was laced with concern.

“Oh.” I realised what he was talking about and pulled my hand down. “I’m okay, just a little tired.”

“Honey?” My mom’s face pinched in concern. “Is it hurting again?”

“I just need to rest Mom, I’m fine.” I assured her. “You should continue, I’ll just sit here for a bit.”

Mom was hesitant but there wasn’t much she could do, and she knew it. So they moved on, but not without Mr. Wayne asking for some painkillers to be brought to me.

After taking the medicine, I thanked ‘Alfred’ (as he had asked me to call him) before he left.

Damian was sitting on the arm rest of the couch. My hand was in his and he rubbed random circles around my knuckles. His brows were furrowed, and his features were set in a deep scowl. I could practically feel the guilt and worry radiating off of him.

“I have to be honest, I thought I’d see more animals around.” I said, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Father asked me to keep Titus in my room for the time-being, he didn’t know how you two would react to a Great Dane, or vice-versa.” The boy said simply.

“Great Dane?” I asked flabbergasted.

The corner of Damian’s lips turned upwards. “When you feel better I’ll introduce you.”

“It’s a date.” I answered before thinking. All at once I realised what I said and felt my cheeks burn. “Ah – I mean, not date. If you aren’t comfortable with that, people just use the word date as a meeting time or –“

“It’s a date.” He brought my fingers up and ghosted his lips over them. I had to hold my breath fearing that my heart would stop.

I was momentarily stunned by his forwardness and calm. Looking away I managed to slow down my heart rate to a regular beat.

“I still need to guess the rest right?” I asked coyly.

He gestured for me to continue.

“Let’s see.” I rested my head on the couch and closed my eyes to recall our conversation back in the ball room. “We’ve got a dog, a cat.”

“Mhm.” Damian nodded, moving from the arm rest to the empty space next to me.

My brain brought up an old song from the Princess and the Frog, when they had to ‘Dig a Little Deeper’.

A dog, a pig, a cow, a goat – the lyrics were sung in my subconscious before I could stop it.

“A cow.” I guessed.

Damian’s eyes grew a little wide, before a grin made its way to his lips. “Yes.”

“What seriously?” I giggled. “You actually have a cow?”

“Bat-Cow.” He chuckled. “I was a child, and that was the first name to come up.”

I was full on laughing now. “I cannot wait to meet them. But that was seriously a random guess, now I feel like my confidence is dwindling.”

“Then how about you wait till you see them?” He suggested.

I bit my lip and shifted in my seat, our knees brushed and I felt that warmth spread across my chest. We’re close. A little too close.

When I looked at him I found he was staring at the garden outside. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. There was something about this boy that just drew me closer, making me want more. I traced the little moles across his cheek and wondered when I had let this magnetic pull take over me.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Damian commented. His intense green eyes bore into mine as he threw a deviously charming smirk my way.

I blushed and looked away, suddenly finding my shoes a lot more interesting than it was. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

He turned towards me. And I made the mistake of facing him again, because now our faces were just mere inches apart.

I found myself gazing at his beautiful green eyes that contrasted so well with his tanned olive skin. There were so many different shades of green looping and mixing with one another, it felt like a maze – one that I would willingly get lost in.

My fingers rested in the spaces between his, and I marvelled at how everything in that moment felt right.

I tilted towards him, and he did the same towards me.

“What are we doing?” I whispered, stealing a glance at his lips.

Heart pounding.

Blood racing.

It left me dizzy.

“I’m… not sure.” Damian replied, his tone low. “But if you asked me to kiss you, I would.”

His thumb grazed the inside of my wrist with a feather-light touch and I burst into flames.

“Kiss me.”

And he did.

-THE END-

#My Fan Fiction #Damian Wayne x Reader #DC comics #dc universe #Soulmate AU #Batman #batboys x reader #Nightwing #Red Hood #Red Robin #Robin #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Flowers AU

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knightofameris · 4 years

Text

hidden mist — clint barton

Setting: AU (mix of MCU and 616 comics, clint has no family, he’s a mess, and kate’s a thing along with lucky) Gender: Neutral Contains: slight body horror (like Red Skull peeling off his mask), fighting, curse words, not necessarily fluff? but kinda at the end? more so action-y Word Count: 2.2k Prompt: “I’ve never known more about what isn’t going on in a situation” for @\amandarosemire‘s 500 follower writing challenge! Sorry it took me so long but I finally grinded it out kshlksg [this is a repost to a new account, sorry amanda!]

Summary: Everything’s a little confusing when your boyfriend finds out you’re in the middle of a cold war of sorts. Especially when you’re a highly trained agent. But at this point, nothing’s surprising to him or to Kate.

a/n: i love clint and the mcu did him dirty. Be sure to check out amandarosemire’s writings! She’s amazing at writing and I’m always so taken aback when reading her works. [reblogging from old blog]

Let me know if there are any mistakes, regarding the gender of reader, grammar, spelling, or with the story. c:

Enjoy!

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❝ who do you choose to stand beside you in times of crisis? who would you trust? ❞

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If someone were to ask you which other Avenger you would want to be beside you while the building you were stuck in was burning down with people pointing guns at you, the last person they’d expect you to answer with would probably be Hawkeye.

You see, if you had Iron Man with you, he could easily just fly you out after using his targeting system to take out the enemies. Captain America could just throw his shield at the enemies and then carry you out the safest way possible. Thor could summon some lightning, take them out, and then again, you’d be flown out of the building. Natasha’s clever, you probably wouldn’t even end up in this situation if she was with you.

But you were and the building was on fire and guess who you were stuck with?

Hawkeye.

Well, both Hawkeyes, but only one of them is really the Avenger here. Or well, Kate is an Avenger-in-training. But that’s not the point I’m trying to make. The point is, you, Clint, and Kate, were all royally fucked.

Their bows laid at their feet, their arrows scattered about. You? The gun you held was pointed at the man you were supposed to be protecting—Mason Wu.

“Mirage,” Mason licked his lips, “I thought your job was to protect me?”

“Mirage,” Clint deadpanned. “Babe, you’re Mirage?”

“Now’s not the time Clint!” You muttered through gritted teeth just loud enough for him to hear. “You weren’t even supposed to be here!”

“Ugh, ‘babe’?” Kate groaned. “How did you even get into a stable relationship?” You shot her a look.

“You’re not supposed to be here either, Katie.” The glare from your eyes caused Kate to shut her mouth, not even wanting to correct you into calling her Kate. She gulped and you saw a bead of sweat fall down the side of her head, but you knew it wasn’t from the nerves.

You felt the temperature rise and with it you readjusted your grip on your gun, your clammy hands feeling uncomfortable.

“What’s going on, Wu?” You demanded. You eyed him carefully as he seemed unaffected by the flames. Rather, he seemed at peace, almost delighted, to see you working up a sweat. He grinned and with a wave of his arm, water seemingly came out of thin air and killed the fire. Wu then clenched his fist, all the water dropping to the ground and then dissipating into thin air. Then a stream of water flowed up his arm and under his suit.

You, Clint, and Kate watched in mute horror when water started coming out of his eyes, nose, and mouth only for what seemed to be his skin to come off. As if it was in slow motion, he peeled off his skin. You furrowed your brows, your mouth turning downward in disgust. Clint letting out an ‘ugh’ noise and Kate gagged.

A light blue crystalized humanoid was underneath with what looked to be water inside of him. Whatever face he had, you knew he was smirking.

“I’ve never known more about what isn’t going on in a situation,” Clint whispered. Kate slapped his hand with hers. You sighed, hanging your head down.

*** [E A R L I E R T H A T E V E N I N G] ***

“I just have to attend the charity event that Roxxon’s holding, I’ll be back before you know it.” You leaned down and kissed Clint on the cheek and he frowned for a quick moment, putting his arrow down on his lap. You pulled away just fast enough to see the frown etched on his face and you tilted your head. “What’s wrong?”

“Roxxon?” Clint asked, turning to look at you.

You sighed, “Yes, I know they have had their fair share of misdoings with the Avengers, but I’ll be safe.”

“No, uh-” Clint furrowed his brows. You stared at him, waiting for him to finish his reply.

“What?” You asked. You let a small smirk make its way onto your face, knowing that he had a mission that night at the same charity event. You weren’t too worried though, even with your boyfriend as an Avenger you were able to keep him away from your other life. Something you decided personally. You just wanted to get a taste of a normal life.

As normal can be, living with Clint and sometimes Kate.

He shook his head, “Nothing, nevermind.” Clint picked up his arrow again, attaching on a new gadget at the end.

“Alright,” you replied, adjusting the cuffs on your suit. You headed out of your shared apartment. “Make sure to feed Lucky, and tell Kate to clean up her PI work off the counter, it’s a mess.”

You closed the door behind you and glanced down at your watch. With a sigh you began to head towards the elevator and over to the charity ball, hoping the mission would be a breeze.

After all, it was just protecting a guy from any possible assassins. How hard could it be?

*** [P R E S E N T T I M E] ***

It was very hard, if the man you were protecting is out to get you. At this point, everything that you felt you needed to do was for self-preservation and to keep Clint and Kate safe and alive. Whatever the mission was before is now called off and something you’d have to talk to Fury about yourself.

But you know, even if you were asked which Avenger you’d want to have beside you in a burning building with guns pointed at you before this entire situation, you’d probably say Hawkeye.

Wu began to walk around you, Clint, and Kate; his hands clasped behind his back.

“It’s simple, really,” he grinned. “All I really want is you (Y/n) (L/n).” Your face remained stoic, watching him circle you. You wish you could just take him out there and then but with all the guns pointed at you and you didn’t even know how vulnerable he is, you didn’t know what to do.

Unbeknownst to you, Clint already had a plan in mind.

He clasped his hands behind his head and sighed, “Look, the whole villain monologue thing gets really old. Why do all villains like to listen to themselves talk?” Clint patted Kate’s arm. She glared at the older man and Mason Wu’s grunts jolted, their fingers lightly placed on the trigger. “Look-” Clint bent down and began picking up his arrows after pushing his bow off to the side “-I just want to pick up my arrows because they’re perfectly good arrows so you can go ahead and monologue and—DUCK!”

A white smoke screen appeared after Clint jammed one of his arrows down on the ground. Clint tackled into you, causing your breath to escape your lungs. Mason Wu’s grunts already began to open fire, shooting each other instead since they were all in a circle.

Kate kicked over Clint’s bow towards him while scrambling to grab her own. You looked up at Clint, who laid on top of you while the guns were still going off.

“You’re gonna have to explain every—”

“Later! Let’s move!” You shouted, shoving him off. You began crawling towards cover, with Clint and Kate trailing from behind.

The smoke began to dissipate and by this time the three of you were already hidden away.

Mason growled, looking left and white, his suit tattered and ripped apart. “Idiots, they’re all idiots!” He glanced down at his subordinates who were either dead or groaning and about to die. He sighed, closed his eyes, and let out a huff. “Guess I’ll have to do this my own way.”

A wave of water shot out towards you. Your eyes widened as you jumped over the mostly destroyed bar and began running, water lapping at your legs. You turned your head and tried to shoot him but the bullets ricocheted off of him instead.

You cursed under your breath and for once in your life, you were unsure of how to get out of this mess.

Clint watched as you ran, somehow avoiding the water. Kate whispered at him from behind a different table, a few feet away.

“Try electrocuting him,” Kate whispered. “Water types are weak against electric types, right?”

Clint scrunched up his face at her. “What?”

“Like in Pokemon!”

He grumbled, examining his quiver at the tip of each of the arrows.

“Clint, hurry up!” Kate exclaimed, her eyes wide-eyed, looking back and forth from where you were running, and quickly running out of endurance and already being taken by the water, then back to her mentor. A small glint caught her eye. Thinking fast, and seeing how Clint was still mumbling to himself while trying to find the right arrow, she dove out of cover with her bow and grabbed the electric-arrow.

“Grab them, Clint!”

Clint’s head jolted to where Kate was, out of cover. He saw you in a very compromising position in a water bubble, way above the ground. Wu grumbled, his piercing eyes (eye sockets?), moving towards Kate.

Kate’s arm was pulled back, and Clint sprinted towards you. You, who was too focused on not drowning.

You watched him with fear in your eyes. The water already surrounded your entire body and you didn’t know how much longer you can last without air. He grabbed an arrow and pulled his arm back. At first, aiming towards you then to the part that linked the water bubble to Wu. He shot at it and immediately the water link froze over.

Kate let go of her arrow. Wu screamed in pain, as his entire water body began to get electrocuted.

You screamed as you went into free fall. Clint quickly jumped up on tables and then a shelf, launching himself towards you and grabbing you. He wrapped his arms around you as you both fell and he turned himself to take the brute of the impact on the ground.

By this time, Kate had frozen Wu in a bunch of frozen arrows and trudged her way over to the two of you.

You groaned and rolled off of Clint. You turned to face him who held his chest and his face was scrunched up in pain.

“God, that’s going to leave a bunch of bruises,” he groaned, slowly sitting up.

You laughed, “I’m glad you’re okay, thank you, by the way.”

“It was a good thing we were placed on this mission then,” Kate said. “Otherwise you’d be dead.”

Your eyes narrowed at her, “I would have been fine. I had a plan.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Clint rubbed the back of his head, groaning again as he felt a jolt of pain shoot through him. You turned to glare at him but your eyes softened as you saw the amount of injuries littered across his face and body.

“You never found out about me being Mirage.” You smirked, placing a hand on his shoulder then running it up to his neck, your thumb stroking his cheek. His eyes met yours.

“Yeah, well,” he leaned into your touch, using his hand to hold onto you, “isn’t that sort of your thing? Mirage? Looking like different people?”

“Usually, yeah. But—” you frowned, really taking in the amount of injuries on his face “—Is this how you’re always riddled with bandaids?” Your eyes bounced back and forth between Kate and Clint. “Why-how? I go on as many missions as you guys.” The two archers exchanged glances then shrugged. You sighed, shaking your head.

Sirens began in the distance and a SHIELD helicarrier from above shone a light on the burnt down building. The three of you glanced up. You hung your head then went to stand up. Your stuck your hand out to Clint and he graciously took it. His weight was significantly more than you expected and you stumbled into him as he stood up.

He smirked, looking down at you. “You know, you can always kiss me better.”

You rolled your eyes and Kate groaned, hitting her forehead with her hand. “Are you in high school still? Why are you flirting like a high schooler?”

“What?” Clint arched a brow. “Oh, come on, they always work on you.” You looked down at his chest, biting the bottom of your lip. You placed your hands on his chest, slowly snaking them around the back of his neck and his hands rested on your hips, pulling you in closer.

Both of you ignored Kate pretending to throw up on the side.

“Do they?” You tilted your head with a smirk, looking up at him.

“Usually.”

And this was one of the times his flirting did work.

He leaned into you, his lips on yours. You closed your eyes, pulling him ever so closer into you. His lips were rough and you could swear it was cracked from the earlier fighting but you knew he didn’t really care. Especially when your tongue darted out over his lips for a second. When it came to you, he’d throw out his well being as long as you were safe. Of course, it applied for you, too.

For any mission of yours in the future, for any catastrophic event, if you were stuck in a burning building with guns pointed at you again, you’d want Hawkeye to be the one standing next to you. Clint, specifically, as much as you loved Katie.

But you know, even if you were asked which Avenger you’d want to have beside you in a burning building with guns pointed at you before this entire situation, you’d probably say Clint Barton.

a/n: i love clint and kate and i tried doing my own type of characterization between the comics and then the possible better version of the mcu. i don’t think this is my best version i’ve written of clint compared to my other works but i had fun! i tried grinding this out and i had a lot of struggles writing for him. but i did it !! love this dumb bird boy

don’t forget to like, reblog, or leave a reply !!! it means the world to me, seriously. it does. so much.

#clint barton x reader #clint barton x male!reader #clint barton x neutral!reader #clint barton imagine #mandamstandmcu #hawkeye x reader #clint barton x y/n #hawkeye x y/n #a.writes

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panickinganakin · 4 years

Text

companionship Kylo Ren x Reader (au)

chapter 5! you can find the other chapters here!

A/N So, Supreme Leader Snoke has spared you your life. You’re training with Kylo begins now. I’m having so much fun writing this! Thanks for everyone who is reading and liking it! I have began to post on ao3 as well! you can find me at panickinganakin (same as here!) Thanks again! enjoy chapter five!

Warnings: they are training to fight, so mention of blood, passing out, bruising, SOFTKYLO,ILOVEYOU

Word count: 2586

That night you dreamed of Kylo. The way he told you the loneliness did end sometimes, the way his cool skin felt on yours. Did he mean that about you? Were you the key to softening the commander?

You woke up the sound of shouting. You jumped up, confused but ready to fight. You felt ridiculous, passing a mirror, your fists were clenched. You pushed your door open and Kylo was pacing the main room. “Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Yeah, uhm, I’m up. You could have just, I don’t know, knocked on my door, you didn’t have to yell?” You huffed, a little annoyed. You enjoyed sleeping, it was your favorite activity and it’s gotten harder since the day they found out about your midi-chlorian count.

Kylo frowned, “What are you talking about? I wasn’t yelling,” suddenly his faced softened. He was dipping into your brain, trying to see what you had heard. “It’s hard, to ignore it. It feels like it’s right beside you.”

You knew your face held all of the confusion your brain held, “What? I heard you-“ you stopped. Was it Kylo you heard? You weren’t sure, you just know you jumped up. The force, the Jedis, they were after you again. “Why did all of this happen at once? It’s like it was a switch. If I’ve always had the force in me, why didn’t happened before now?” You slumped down into the couch.

He stood in front you, thinking over his words, “It’s like it has to wake up. The force isn’t ready to fight until it is. Of course, if you know you have it as a child, it’s different. My mother had it, my Uncle was a Jedi. We knew it was there, I started training young.”

This was the first time he had mentioned his family, you wanted to know more. “So you knew your family?” It felt almost unfair. The Order kidnapped you, you had no choice. Why would someone choose to leave their family if they actually knew them and got to grow up in a home?

“Family isn’t always a good thing. I’m sorry you were ripped from yours. But, believe me, it saves so much heartache. It doesn’t give them the chance to betray you.” His fists were clenched now, his jaw tight. This explained a lot suddenly.

“Your family? They betrayed you?” You felt connected to him, you had since the first night here. But, now you craved more, wanting to get closer.

“We have a lot to do today, maybe another time we can discuss pleasantries.” He grabbed his helmet, you felt your mood drop, you didn’t like it. You preferred him much more like this; hair hanging down in soft waves, deep eyes exposed. “You have a new robe set in my closet, I had it delivered today. Please change, then we will leave.”

You stood up without another word, then went to his room. It was a lot like yours, much less homey though. Whereas your room had a dresser with a mirror, he had not a single mirror. His closet door was slid open. It felt almost comical, how everything in there was the same. Black robes, black cape, black boots, black gloves, over and over again.

There was a red bag, zipped up completely with a small paper on it that had your name on it. You took the bag, going back to close Kylo’s door. You laid it across his bed, unzipping it slowly. You had expected black robes similar to his, just more feminine. You were pleasantly surprised to see red fabric in some spots.

After putting it on, you went to your room to examine yourself in the mirror. It fell a few inches below your knees, the black fabric was soft, extremely comfortable. Your hands ran over the red belt that hugged your waist. You ran your hands through your hair, it wasn’t a bad look. Maybe the dark side suited you.

When you exited the room, Kylo was waiting at the door. “Now you look like someone who is ready to train. Come.”

As you followed Kylo out of the quarters you had a hundred questions. Where would you two be going? Would you be flying somewhere? And when the hell would you get your own lightsaber?

“When you earn it,” he mumbled, stepping in front of a door, waiting for it to open.

Damn, he had the advantage of being in your head. That wasn’t fair. Maybe after you trained and learn to control this better, you could be in his too. “How do I earn one?”

“You learn to control the force, learn to fight. Prove to me that you are worthy of wielding your own, then, you will get one.”

You nodded, not willing to argue. He didn’t seem like one to budge from his decisions. “Will I have to wear a mask?”

You tried to picture yourself in a mask like his, or something similar. It seemed ridiculous to you, you would die before it, you decided. “Not if you don’t want.”

You felt satisfied with that answer and decided to not ask anymore questions. The scenery of the ship now felt foreign to you. Just a week ago you were scooting around the place, cleaning living quarters. Which, you hoped you never had to clean another shower again, except for your own of course.

You walked through the cafeteria, people were sitting in their uniforms, gawking at you as you trailed behind Kylo. “We won’t be coming back through today, you need to grab food for later.”

You nodded, following him to the line of people waiting for a meal. They stepped aside for you, it was odd, everyone moved as if Kylo was parting a sea. They all stayed quiet, aside from a few harsh whispers, as you gathered a box to take with you.

“Imbecils,” Kylo mumbled as you two finally got away from everyone.

“People love to talk. There’s not a lot of new things that happen for the workers. We’re- they’re mostly in the dark about stuff. I remember, never getting updates on much. Unless there is an assembly called.”

He nodded, not offering much more to the conversation. You were sure it was because he didn’t know what it felt like. You couldn’t remember exactly when he joined the ship, but you did remember that it was talked about for weeks. A new Commander, sent to us directly by Supreme Leader Snoke himself. Rumors of human, alien, all types of things were said. You never imagined the dark haired man that really lived under the costume.

“Here we are,” he said, punching at a keypad.

The door opened to reveal a large room, almost the size of the cafeteria. There were padded walls, robots powered down in various spots of the room. A table full of droids, you had seem them before, they flew and spit lasers. “We will be practicing hand to hand combat today.”

Hand to hand combat? Your stomach dropped, you couldn’t remember the last time you threw a punch, in fact, you don’t think you had ever done that before. “Kylo, I’m actually a pacifist.”

You could hear the chuckle through his mask, “Were. You were a pacifist. Now you’re a fighter, a killer.”

You couldn’t picture yourself having to kill anyone. None of that mattered now, you either had to fight or die. The most important thing was you continued to live. But did that even matter? Living? You had no friends, no family, no one to come back to bed at night that cared if you survived. You were alone.

“Once you have your lightsaber it is very rare that you would have to use only your fists and such. However, it is possible for your opponent to disarm you. Step one, never underestimate your opponent.” Before you could even blink Kylo had you pinned down on the ground, all the air knocked out of your lungs.

“Fuck,” you coughed pushing your hands against him. It was useless, you couldn't even budge his body.

“Up, try again. Look at what I do, try to judge what my next move will be.”

You were up, wiping the sweat off your cheek. “That doesn’t seem fair does it? Considering you’re in my head.”

“You will never know what your enemy is able to do, until they show you. Don’t let assumptions be your weakness.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant. You seen him lift his arm up, his hand in a fist, coming for the right side of your face. You threw your arm up to block it but before you could even realize what was happening, his leg was hitting against your ribs. You coughed loudly, hitting the floor.

Kylo stood above you, “Up.”

For what felt like hours of agony, you were repeatedly knocked down time and time again. You could feel the bruises forming on your spine, your ribs, hip and head. With each punch you grew angrier, was this his goal? You felt your legs shaking, you were so close to passing out. Your body refused to take another blow, it would rather perish.

Somewhere along the way Kylo had pulled his mask off, maybe it was to eat, the events were running together at this point. You could taste the metal in your mouth, blood that was slowly dripping from your nose continuesly making its way back to your lips. Would it ever stop oozing?

Kylo’s arm reared back, coming straight for the side of your head, it felt slow motion, your vision blurred. Focus. You bent your knees crouching down, lifting your leg to meet his side. He stuck an arm out to block your leg, so you pushed your hands forward, straight into his chest.

Kylo fell back onto the ground, you stuck your knee into his stomach, towering above him. Your face was inches from his, his eyes looked black, like coal, “I win.”

“Pinning me down once against my hundreds of times does not count as a win,” for moment is his eyes twitched up like the corners of his mouth.

You would have bet he was finding humor in the blood splattered on your face, the hair matted against your skin, you bet it was funny how much of a train wreck you looked like right now. You tried to stifle a laugh but suddenly your body was cold, your vision disappeared.

You woke up on the couch, confused and disoriented. Kylo was standing off in the corner, “What happened?” Your throat was dry, you needed water.

“I kicked your ass today. Your body finally gave out.” He sounded so serious, you rolled your eyes standing up. You were shaky but managed to keep a steady foot.

“I got you one good time, so maybe you didn’t entirely win this, right?” You went straight for the kitchen, the soft sounds of his bare feet following behind you.

Grabbing a glass from a cabinet by the pantry you turned on the faucet, giving it a few moments to become completely ice cold before filling the cup. “So tomorrow then, I was thinking, we would try again.”

The mention of fighting with Kylo again made you realize how sore you were. You body felt like a tightly wound rubber band. You sighed, holding at your arms. From what you could see without a mirror, you elbows and shoulders were bruised. You grabbed the bottom of your robes, wait, when did you change out of your black robes?

“I had a maid change you, after bathing you. You were out cold.”

You nodded, you examined your stomach and chest, your ribs and thighs all had nast bruising on them. “Damn, Kylo,” you huffed turning so he could see what you were looking at. Maybe it should have felt weird, letting him see so much of you but then again, it really didn’t. “You could have at least asked me to dinner first.”

Kylo tilted his head, an expression of defense covered his face, “I make sure you have dinner every night!”

You busted out in laughter, quickly clutching your rib cage, “Don’t make me laugh, it’s painful.” You turned on your feet, feeling the cool tile on your bare skin made you feel better. “Well then, tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow.”

You had hoped he would follow you to your room, offering to sit beside you as you found sleep that night, just like he did the night before. You laid in bed, eyes covering every part of the ceilings over and over again before you realized he wasn’t coming.

You sat up, debating on what the right decision was. You were lonely, just his very presence healed a large part of that. When alone in your room you felt as if the galaxies very own black hole would bust through your walls and suck you in for eternity. An eternity of pure and udder loneliness.

When you left your bed you realized just how cold it was. You could feel your skin tighten up, chills decorating your body from your neck to your ankles. You tiptoed across the short walkway that separated your bedroom door and Kylo’s. Reaching for the door, your body felt lighter as you realized it was open, unlocked. Did he know? These days everyone seemed to know more about you than you did yourself.

You walked slowly to his bed, he was curled up one end of it, soft black clothes covered most of his body. His black hair pushed around and matted against his skin. His eyes were shut but you sensed a great unease coming from him.

You crawled into his bed, as gently as you could, sliding your body under the black sheets. They were soft, so soft. You could see yourself sleeping in this bed so easily, the way it formed to your body like a mold. At first you took the other half the bed, the bed was very large so it was a safe distance. But the look on his face, the sadness, it made you scoot closer. You were a fingers distance away now, you could feel the even pattern of his breath.

You laid your hand against his cheek, not daring to rip your eyes away from him. As if your looks could protect him. You knew your hand must have been cold but he didn’t mind, he hardly moved at all. The only thing that changed but his expression. The scared look and sadness faded slowly and was replaced a calm look of ease.

If you’re looking for companionship here, you won’t find it here.

That’s what he said to you all those days ago, you smiled, closing your eyes. He lied. You were his friend, and you knew it. If it was untrue he would have made you leave when he woke up. But, instead, his eyes met yours and he smiled softly. “Hi.” He whispered. Even with him awake you didn’t move your hand, he moved his to sit on top of yours. His hands were soft and warm, they made you feel better. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shook your head and bit your lip, besides today in the training room this was the closest you had ever been. You were just inches away from each other, “Sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“For intruding in your quarters.”

“I’m not sorry,” he said moving his hand to your face now.

You two laid there like that, just staring at each other. You didn’t remember falling asleep but you did remember that wasn’t hard, not with him beside you.

chapter six

taglist: @bensoloslover @crockgoblin69 @napping-is-my-favorite @shesakillerkween

#kylo ren #kylo #star wars #Star Wars au #Kylo Ren au #Kylo Ren fanfiction #restoring balance #writing

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xhanisai · 5 years

Note

Dark Adrien prompt- Marinette gets tired of Adrien/Cat Noir teasing her, so at one point she just grabs him by his shirt and passionately kisses him.

Originally wanted to draw this out but adulting took over ripperoni ;;;; Have a quick oneshot instead (we’re lacking some good ol’ marichat in this AU and that’s a s i n :0)

~(x)~

“Bonsoir, Mlle. Chibinette~!” Chat Noir purred out as he fluidly slipped through the trapdoor from the balcony, dramatically flipping down on the girl’s bed and then plastered an innocent look as he faced her. (Which pretty much required hanging upside down from the stairs but the cat didn’t care).

He only received silence and a back towards, the love of his life scribbling down notes for what he assumed, homework. That didn’t deter him; on the contrary, it fuelled his mischievousness to the brim.

“Aren’t you gonna greet me, Baby Bug?”

Chat’s faux ears caught the annoyed muttering that escaped Marinette’s lips and the way she added pressure to the pen she’s writing with. He creeped closer whilst his grin grew wider.

“Mini-ne-eeeeeeeette?” This time she huffed and her knuckles whitened from her grip on the poor writing tool.

“Are you ma-aaaaad at me, Petiténette?” The pen was abruptly snapped in half and Marinette swerved towards the masked hero with eyes raging pure fury.

She shot up to her full height, not faltering once at how Chat’s figure loomed over hers by a long shot. Hands on her hips, head lifted up to meet his gaze, Marinette growled:

“Utter one more word related to my height, Adrien, and I will destroy you.”

The boy’s cheeks were starting to cramp from how much he was smiling, relishing the reactions from his poor girlfriend. He tilted his head with a coy smirk, letting his fingers run through her hair that was tied up in a messy ponytail.

“But Mari-”

“No.”

“Marinette-”

“Don’t. Even. Speak.”

“Itty-bitty-baby-bug-”

With a frustrated yell, Marinette yanked Chat forward by the bell, making him bend down to her small stature.

“Listen here you idiot cat. Ever since you got that dumb growth spurt, you’ve been teasing me nonstop during school, during patrols and even during akuma battles! I swear I will knock you down to a size that matches your brain which I assure you, is smaller than the size of my thumb. Do. You. Understand?!”

Letting him go without hearing his answer, Marinette stomped back to her chair, ignoring Chat’s guffaws as he made way back to her again. Once he calmed down, he rested his cheek against hers, resisting the urge to laugh at her comical way of doing work.

It’s very well known that Adrien is very bright and top of the class when it comes to academics and sports (Though he’ll never understand how Marinette and Max always gets full marks on Maths and all three sciences). However, when it comes to reading situations and common sense, he’s a lost cause.

The moment right now is a pretty good example of his dumbassery and biting off more than he can fucking chew.

“Alright, alright. I’ll shut up now,” He chuckled out and gave a sweet peck on Marinette’s cheek. She only scoffed and refused to let Chat distract her. “Heh- you get mad so easily, Marinette,”

His smirk suddenly darkened and his voice dropped down an octave.

“But then again Princess,”

Marinette froze on one of the questions, eyebrows furrowed at the boy’s sudden husky tone.

“You do have a short temper~”

Incredulous blue orbs met laughing green orbs. Time stood still for a good five second as the duo were unable to look away.

Chat was the first to be defeated, leaping away, cackling and even tripping over the chaise. He gave up on trying to stand up and stayed on the chaise till his laughter died and his sides hurt.

Finally, Chat registered the silence in the room, promptly sitting up in confusion. His companion was still in the same position however, her head was bowed down and her fingers dug into the arms of the chair.

“Marinette?” Chat channeled a bit of his civilian counterpart, softening his voice slightly whilst ducking his head lower to see her face. “Shit…did I go too far?”

He scrambled back to his feet and darted towards Marinette, hands ready to cup her cheeks and apologise a thousand times, only to be surprised with a-

“MmMpH!!?”

Marinette pushed her lips against Chat’s harder, her slim but strong fingers dug into his scalp in a way that always made the latter melt. She tilted her lips, just the way he liked it, evident with the exhale Chat let out and how his body instantly relaxed.

Lulling him into her trap.

Dropping his guard was a huge mistake and the model found himself pinned against the floor, both wrists bounded by her hands and his bottom lip getting pricked by her teeth.

His face reddened from the tips of his human ears to the base of his neck and his eyes scrunched close in order to keep up with the heated kiss. It took him everything to bottle up the groans that was eager to escape his throat- Chat’s pride couldn’t afford to be shattered for the umpteenth time again.

With a final tug on his lip, Marinette pulled away slowly. Her eyes sparkled deviously at the sight of Chat’s lack of composure below her. His tanned skin took on a raspberry glow, his lips were plump and a stark red, indicating how thoroughly kissed he was and his heart was hammering against his chest. The Asian’s chest swelled with pride.

She did this. She got one of the most hottest, European teen absolutely dishevelled in one single kiss. She’s unravelled Paris’ most flirtatious and dangerous hero into a mess.

“Told you I’d kick you down a size or two,” Marinette purred out, her words dripping with pure Ladybug power.

“E-Erm…”

“What was that~?”

“B-Buh…erm…”

It was Marinette’s turn to snicker whilst Chat covered his face in embarrassment, refusing to believe how he’s flustered to the point where he’s unable to speak! He cried out a little ‘Nooooooo’, turning his face away everytime Marinette tried to peel his hands off his face.

“Oh come on Chaton, it’s not your fault that you thought you’re so clever and hilarious with all these jokes,” Chat uncovered one of his eyes to glare at Marinette. “After all, you’re so tall that you just couldn’t have seen anyone else at all!”

With an irritated groan, Chat gently pushed Marinette off him and jumped back to his feet, folding his arms with a scowl. He refused to talk to her. Nope. Not even acknowledge her existence. Not with the way she was giggling behind him. The one time he’s finally got a one-up on the girl, the table turns on him!

“Minou~ does the cat still have your tongue?”

Chat spun back to face Marinette, annoyance written all over his face and his pout only dug deeper that no one could possibly think this boy could ever hurt a fly.

“You can’t say that! I’m the cat here not you-” He was interrupted again with a kiss. This time, it was softer and sweeter, enough to make his knees wobble till Marinette pulled away too quick for his taste. Twirling a strand of his hair with her finger, Marinette tugged him forward so that her lips could meet his ear and whisper.

“No matter how tall I am, you will always be beneath me~”

She pushed him away, letting him collapse back on the floor in a blushy pile of goo and sat back down on her chair. Chat’s mutterings and whimpers were music to her ear, concocting a devilish smirk on her face.

“Grrr…I’ll get you back…just you wait shorty…”

“Does the cat require another kiss?”

“DON’T TOUCH ME YOU HEATHEN!”

“Hahah! No amount of anime prepared you for an itty bitty kiss from an itty bitty lady, did it?”

“Stooooooop!”

~(x)~

Hope you enjoy!

#my asks #dark adrien au #my au #my aus #my writing #ml #mlb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous Ladybug and chat noir #chat noir #chat #marinette #marinette dupain cheng #marichat #marinette x chat #chat x marinette #i haven't written any kissing in aaaages

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mejomonster · 4 years

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while i love ppl watching the untamed, i also wish guardian had been a thing that ppl also got so into they rewatched but like. i get it. guardian is pretty niche in taste. untamed is pretty approachable xianxia/fantasy story, its structured in a cool way so its not just a beginning to end heroes journey, and its got mystery and flashbacks, and its got a necromancer bard as its hero (all things i love), but also like it is made of elements that are pretty known and its uniqueness is in utilizing them in new ways. also while i’ve heard its subversion is watered down in the drama versus the novel, the drama does still do some of that. overall though - like Love and Redemption - it uses a lot of base elements that are pretty common to the genre, and easy to pick up if you’ve never watched the genre. It just ends up doing things a lot more nuanced, and subverting some things, which i greatly appreciate it for more than i appreciate some other shows in its genre (like Love and Redemption lol).

but like guardian is like. do u actually Enjoy cgi that looks like its from the 90s video games or worse??? do you enjoy mutants as a metaphor for social issues? do u enjoy it when sci fi is used but its hardly explained and basically magic (like thor, or a comic book, or xmen sometimes, etc) since we had 2 change so much due to censorship requirements? did u like the novel but u are ALSO open to a complete AU of the story? because again, this had to be done as a full on AU we could not actually tell it close to the book story except for the romance. do you actually like those campy sci fi supernatural mystery shows like buffy and xmen and star trek tos and xena? Because im gonna be honest its filled to the BRIM with campy enemies and fights and cases of the week paralleling the main plot a la those types of shows storytelling so like. its gonna be love or hate. either you love those kinds of things - in which case like me, guardian is absolutely going to be ur jam and possibly one of your favorite show ever, with many ‘flaws’ being positives in ur eyes, or you are going to be Suffering TM except for the romance since that’s one of the few things mostly close in feel to the novel (assuming you liked the romance?).

like i think the drama really did do its own AU thing to the point it is largely a different story with the same core relationship, and as an au i think it tells a really good story about society and prejudice and corrupt govts and our responsibilities/needs/fears/etc regarding how to navigate a world full of these things. But i haven’t the slightest clue if the novel even touches any of these themes - it likely has many other ones, with some overlapping themes as far as the masks we wear versus who we are (Shen Wei, Zhao Yunlan, Ye Zun, Lin Jing, Dad Zhao etc). And probably shares the themes about love and still being able to look at peoples wants that come before love - ZYL and Zhu Hong putting helping people above their personal desires, Shen Wei hurting himself by putting ZYL first without always telling him, etc.

I think I lost what i was trying to say here. I guess - while i love priest’s stories, i also really happened to personally love the guardian drama and all the ways it deviated from the novel. because in the ways it did deviate, it decided to tell the kind of story i personally love from top to bottom - the themes, the structure of cases building into bigger arcs, cases paralleling the main relationships and themes, ye zun compared to shen wei, even the campy villains and bad cgi are actually a positive for me that i enjoy more than i would have without them. so like. ahhh i love that the drama does happen to be exactly what it is, since i love every dumb and great aspect, think the writing from my perspective (approached like Buffy or Xmen or Xena) seems perfectly fine and comparable in structure, and like while i love it to pieces. i realize that the demographic of ppl who love it a ton are gonna be much smaller than people who’d like the untamed.

#the untamed #guardian #rant #ok this is just me like #i really personally like guardian #like each and every piece thart makes up the drama #on its own merit As just the drama #since i view the drama and novel as Quite different beasts #but also like i think its funny and i recognize #guardian drama is SUCH a niche taste #ppl who think x files is trash? they'd absolutely hate guardian drama #ppl who hate buffy? who think xmen is silly? who think xena is dumb?#oh godf they'd be in Hell trying to watch guardian drama #but ppl who saw lost tomb 1 and 2??? and loved them? they'd have a FIELD DAY #ppl who love xena to pieces for ALL of its aspects #gonna enjoy guardian to the Brim #ppl who want more buffy like shows with a queer main romance and more adults?#here U GO

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ten-ten31 · 4 years

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Dear Yuletide Writer

Dear Yuletide Writer,

Thank you so much for writing for me! :) I can't tell you just how excited I am. This is my first Yuletide and I guess I'm super nervous, but also looking forward to it. :)

Please feel free to browse my ao3 (KitKaos) and/or tumblr to get an idea of what I stan, like, read or write. I hope I can give you some broad ideas and inspirations in this letter to help you plan. Do feel free to fall back on my general likes if the prompts don't do anything for you. Or just use the prompts, whatever works best for you. Oh, and should you, dear Yuletide Santa, want to write in German and not in English, then I'm definitely okay with that. I'm fluent in both, so whichever you feel more comfortable with. If there's something missing or if you have a question, you can reach out to me via the mods.

General likes: I'm a sucker for the old friends-to-lovers or even enemies-to-lovers (with all the drama of grudginly admitting that the other party maybe isn't all that terrible and all). Things I'll never get tired of include coffeeshop AUs, spy AUs, musical AUs, found families, fake dating, pining, crossdressing, drunken shenanigans, fish-out-of-water situations, pop culture references, etc. Just about any kind of scene you can sneak in there about cooking or eating food (also characters being picky about certains foods and other characters going to some lengths to accommodate that) will make me happy, too. I do have a thing for descriptions of food and expecially impressions of taste - and if you want to make it kinky: food play. ;) I also have a bit of a hand fetish - so descriptions of hands are always welcome. If you want to do it, I probably also won't say no to someone breaking the Fourth Wall, any kind of alternate history AU, crossovers of my fandoms, or even some lovely steampunk aesthetics.

Do Not Want: rape/dubcon/noncon, watersports, scat, humiliation, A/B/O, soulmates AU, vampire/werewolf AU, second-person pov, character bashing of any kind.

Fandoms

Just two more thing before I go into detail: 1. The prompts below are nothing more than ideas - feel free to ignore them if you have a better one. :) 2. Not all of the characters need to be used in every prompt; pick and choose as desired.

Dial H for Hero (DC Comics)

- Summer Pickens, Miguel Montez

The 2019 12-issue run is just pure love! There is worldbuilding galore, relatable characters, a wonderful coming-of-age and initiation plot, interdimensional shenanigans, the question how Joe Average could get addicted to sudden superpowers, and so much fun with the concept of Superhero Secret Origins. Summer is a wonderfully strong and caring female lead and Miguel is a self-conscious little oddball.

As for prompts: Seeing more of their Metropolis adventures or Red/Yellow/Blue/Black Dial transformations would definitely be a lot of fun. Also, there's this cute boy Miguel asks out in the comics and I would love to see that first date. And what about Summer? She definitely won't be reduced to sidekick!

Feel free to include any other ((teenage) superhero) cameos you feel like. Please do not pair up Summer and Miguel romantically - although I don't have any problems with a fake relationship fic for them. ;)

Where to find it: Your trusted comicbook supplier.

Masks: A New Generation (Roleplaying Game)

- any / worldbuilding

I only just disovered Masks as an RPG, and ever since I started playing, it's probably the most fun rping I've had in a long time. I love that playbooks are not by the type of power but the type of problem each teenager faces personally. Like, how do you juggle school, first love, being different in a way no one should know about, being different maybe in a way people will immediately see, adults telling you who to be, chores, and being part of a young superhero team that wants to make a name for themselves? It's hard. And the best sessions alternate between deep emotional connections, hilarious teenage drama and great action scenes.

As for prompts: I would love me some good worldbuilding - so maybe there is a reason the Scarlet Songbird is still around? What was Halcyon City like back in the days of the Golden-Age heroes? What has changed since then? How do especially the older generations view the naming conventions going around for new heroes? Is there a code to follow? Who in Halcyon City pays for all the damage to buildings and infrastructure caused by superhero-supervillain fights? What was it like back in the olden days for the Golden Age heroes as opposed to now? Are there cultural exchange programs with any of the alien races visiting from time to time? Give me a day in the life of an average Halcyon City citizen - they don't even have to be all that close to an epic fight or something. Just their way of coping with the daily madness of a huge city housing most of the world's superheroes. If you like something a little more character-specific: The one actual-play podcast that does it best in my opinion are the Theatre of the Mind Players with their "Future Shock" and "Past Tense" seasons of Masks. And I would love to read more about these characters. Have Sparrow and Figment finally get together. Give me a glimpse of how Horizon assembled his ersatz mom. What will Helix and Remix get up to?

Where to find it: The core rulebook is available from Magpie Games. The Theatre of the Mind Players’ Masks sessions can be found on Youtube.

Super Sons (Comics)

- Jonathan Samuel Kent, Damian Wayne

Super Sons is how I finally came to like and care for Damian Wayne - which, if you know me, is a major achievement! He is still a huge brat, don't get me wrong, but Jon's influence on him and the way he is confronted with certain issues he has... it's magical! It's wholesome! It's healing! They are both so fiercely protective of each other, and they both grow as characters from their experiences with each other.

As for prompts: So, dear Yuletide Santa, give me character growth and banter and friendship galore. I can see slumber parties at Wayne Manor or at the Kent farm. I can see them getting lost in space and time. I can see more adventures once they're at the same school. I can see a canon-divergence AU where Jon is finally admitted into the the Teen Titans at age 13 - how would that go? Or how about an Interrail Buddies AU?

If you want to write slashfic for them, I will not say no but would probably prefer to age them up a bit. I also most definitely don't mind any background appearances of any of their families.

Where to find it: Your trusted comicbook supplier.

Superman Returns (2006)

- any (Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, Richard White)

I still love this movie a lot - not because it's particularly spectacular, but it treats the characters with love, it treats the legacy of the Reeve movies with love and it leaves SO MANY questions for fanfiction authors to answer. ;) I mean, I've been a Superman fan for a long time and I've discovered that I'm most comfortable with a Clark who wears a mask both as Clark Kent and as Superman, who isn't either of those two (and who is fallible). And whenever someone learns of his secret identity, they will see that he's so much more than either Clark or Superman. I know Lois is a fairly underdeveloped character in this movie, so I would love for her to be treated not just as a prize, especially since there were those years of her having to put her life back together after Supes just up and left.

As for prompts, I've always wondered about the different coping mechanisms (Lois turning bitter, Jimmy starting up daydrinking - WTF?!) and just how their day-to-day business changed without Clark and Supes there. Give me the Planet staff banding together to rescue Lois when she remembers just that second too late that there will be no superhero to save them (I also wouldn't mind any of the Bats helping out secretly, if that's up your alley). Give me Jimmy trying not to think too much and instead getting on Lois' nerves until he's rescued by Richard intervening. I am also an absolute sucker for continuation fics, so how do things settle down after what happens in the movie? I would love for some real Clark and Jimmy bonding moments, maybe even Jimmy finding out or having known all along and covered for Clark. I would love for some truce and real friendship blossoming between Clark and Richard, as they are both intelligent, compassionate, insightful men. If you want to include Jason anywhere, feel free to do that, as he makes for such a wonderful catalyst for disaster. Feel free to write gen or any canon pairings - I'm also okay with non-canon het/slash pairs (or threesomes) as long as they make sense in-universe. ;)

Where to find it: Sadly, the movie doesn’t seem to be streaming anywhere, but since it’s 14 years old now, you can buy it relatively cheap.

Young Justice (Comics)

- Tim Drake (but do feel free to have any of the other characters in the story, too)

No matter if you're into the old 1990s YJ comics, the companion comics to the cartoon show, or the new 2019/20 version of the comics - I love all of them! So much I don't even know where to begin... The snark! The lovable teenage stupidity! The friendship that goes above and beyond! My definite favourite is Tim, because he is such a bright, snarky, secretive, repressed little bird (the moment he takes off his domino mask to reveal a second one underneath? priceless)! I also love his deep friendship with the others because that's his found family. Yes, Batman is his mentor (even though Tim might understand B better than the other way round sometimes) and Dick is his older brother and idol (hero worship, anyone?), but Young Justice is where he wants to be himself and all of it.

As for prompts: Even though I did not put either Cassie or Cissie in my request as I want something Tim-centric, the dynamic with those two strong-willed girls is definitely something I would love to see explored more. Also how the dynamic with the bats is so very different than the Young Just Us dynamic. What's it like being the one without powers in a group of hormonal teenage superheroes? I also just realized that I would love to see more of Mister Sarcastic trolling the rest of the gang. Or how about: What if Tim had powers for one day? If you're into the 2019 comics, how about a 5+1 of Why Drake May Or May Not Be A Good Superhero Alias. If you want to include the rest of the gang, you're definitely more than welcome to. Tim and Kon's bickering and outright arguments in the beginning turning into such a solid friendship (or more) is something I can read about time and time again. Pretty much the same goes for Tim and Bart. Or how about some Wendy the Werewolf Stalker shenanigans? Why is having girls in your group a bad/good idea? How did Cassie's becoming the team's leader affect Tim's sense of self? Heck, if you feel like it, open up the love triangle Tim-Cassie-Kon since there's like a ton of history there. Oh, and anyway, why is Stephanie Brown never part of any of Tim's teams? Dear Yuletide Santa, do also feel free to include any of the other teens (I have a soft spot for Li'l Lobo/Slobo).

Where to find it: Your trusted comicbook supplier.

Overall, I’m sure I’ll love what you have for me, and I'm looking forward to reading it! <3

#yuletide 2020 #yuletide #dear yuletide writer #dyw #yulebuilding #cheftide #wrapping paper challenge 2020

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bugaboowritings · 4 years

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Are You A Superhero? - Not So Miraculous AU

Doing What A Superhero Would- Walking a Kid Back Home in a Chilly Winter Night

“Are you a superhero?”

It was a simple question and honestly one that would be laughed at, but she wouldn’t even dare to do that. Not when that question brought back a feeling she thought died a while back.

What do you do when you have no powers? You kick ass in a Ladybug mask, of course! All as you keep it a secret . . . well, try to at least. It was a secret before some kid saw you . . . .

—-

Her ears tingled as she went from hearing the loud sound of smashed glass to the serene silence that snow brought into the air as it falls and packs down on driveways and window shutters. Her senses had to readjust while the sharp air dove into her warm lungs and her shoes felt hot and heavy as the frost crunched under her weight. It felt a bit anticlimactic, she just escaped having a knife to her throat and now she was surrounded by the calm, dancing snowflakes.

A chill came up her spine.

“Are you a superhero?”

Her hand hovered over her belt before she stopped herself a millisecond before pulling out something with a trigger. Like if a pin coated with poison poked her spine, Marinette stood paralyzed.

It was a child.

A kid on the concrete sidewalk with a backpack over their small shoulders.

She didn’t think anyone would cross this part of town. Wait, no- Marinette knew that no one would cross this street for the minutes she planned on staying. She has been scouting the area for weeks and no one passes here during the morning, night, or noon. Not a single car or a single piece of trash. Not a drunk or a lost bystander. No one wants to walk on this side of the city. Especially at breaking dawn.

No one expect the awful people in the abandoned building behind her. Still- they never left the building unless some black van pulled up on Tuesday at 8:15.

Luckily, it was 7:30.

Meaning no witnesses.

No worries.

No danger.

No innocent people in danger.

However, even with all the precautions, Marinette was spotted leaving the crime scene. Her eyes swept the street back and forth, ready to jump away into the darkness if anyone else came along. Her heels were ready to push her back- Yet, she stood there as the kid with the big bug eyes stared right back at her.

Paralyzed and surprised.

Marinette could only imagine what the kid was thinking, watching a stranger lurk in the streets of Paris. Especially as the day dipped down and hues of purple and oranges brushed across the winter sky.

For a split second, they seem like they were two worlds crashing into each other. The kid’s naive nature drew a sharp contrast to Marinette’s fists and mask. Her face was grown and her features were sharp while the kid still had baby fat on their cheeks. The kid wore color layers as she sported sable color-palette with touches of red. Yet, even with their differences, they both felt their face get scrapped and the warmth thinning from their body as the wind blew a little harder.

They both need to get out of the cold.

Marinette’s hair and ears froze stiff as the snow settled gently on her black hair. Forming a little white halo, serving as a contradiction to what she really was. The heat she had before died in the palms of her hands. The adrenaline from punching and wrestling feather-out in her breaths that fog up the air.

Leaving her system in nice, long dragon breaths.

“A superhero?” Marinette whispered as her teeth pulled down her lips. Tasting her lip balm and feeling it stick to her tongue and teeth. She hasn’t heard that anyone call her that in like forever.

“You know, like the ones from the comic books?” The kid repeated. Shuffling their feet together in what seems like an early form of anxiety, but the kid’s eyes didn’t leave Marinette’s. Deep and pearly eyes that wouldn’t leave until they got an answer.

The child had to be around 6 or 7 years old. Honestly, Marinette couldn’t really tell with all the colorful layers they wore. Even with their stacks of scarves protecting their lips and nose from the chilling wind, a little slip of skin showed that the bridge of their nose glowed bright red.

A superhero? From a comic book?

Mari tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, swallowing the words that clouded her mind.

Her- A superhero?

God, that sentence brought back something she thought crawled in a corner and died. Her blue eyes glanced back at the kid with the oversized backpack. Whatever their age, they were definitely too young to remember her. Too young to wake up to the reports of a cat and bug jumping over roofs and swinging off and over towers. Too small to scream and jump up and down when they spot a girl in red and black spots. Too much of a baby to understand that she and her partner were the reason the world still stood. Too little to be wearing her out-dated merch. Too green to even remember who she was.

And definitely too young to call her a superhero.

Little sniffles brought Marinette back to reality, snapping her out of her thoughts as she proceeded her answer. Her senses came back to her, waking up from the numbness of the winter cold and cutting off the memories that swelled in her chest. Overwhelmed by the small moments on rooftops she treasured, only to remember that they were gone. Reminding herself where she was now and who she was now.

Anything, but a superhero.

Marinette bit her lip a little harder, scolding herself for not saying anything. She was most likely scaring the kid just by standing there and saying nothing at all.

Honestly, who wouldn’t be?

You see a woman walking into an abandoned building, only to come out with blood from the other guy on her knuckles.

Who wouldn’t be scared?

Her eyes clicked down to the child on the sidewalk.

Yeah, but this kid didn’t seem a bit terrified.

The kid’s face remained emotionless or look like it. Their hat covered their eyebrows so Marinette couldn’t really tell what they were feeling even if she wanted to know. Marinette’s eyes trace the lines of their face, not helping herself when she saw the pattern on the hat was definitely crocheted and then the scarves around their neck were knitted. Then the gloves on their thin fingers were hand-me-downs due to the style and color. Those same gloves were used as tissues as the kid occasionally brought their hand to face to wipe their nose after sniffing a few times. Their dark blue jacket puffed up around their shoulders and stretched over their thumbs, another sign that the kid had layers on layers under.

It brought this sort of warm feeling in her. Reminding her how her father would rummage around the closets just to find her “one more thing” before she went outside to play in the snow. Then how her mother would pull that stiff beanie over her ears and kiss her forehead. Sending her off when they open the front door and let the cold breeze in.

That warm feeling brought cold water down her back.

It’s late.

Too late for someone this small to be out here alone at night. Especially here. Judging from the clothing, someone at home would definitely be worried. And if they waited any longer than the child would definitely end up with a nasty cold, even with all those layers of jackets.

“What makes you think I’m even one?” Directing her mind back to their question at hand. Not helping the stressed chuckle that slipped her lips as she crouched down to their height. Hoping that her small laugh would put the kid at ease. Even if she looked over her shoulder and tensed up as another gush of wind pushed up her hair.

She needs to get this kid out of here. Quickly.

Inside of the building behind her was the unconscious group of human-organ traffickers, all tied up and ready for the police to come to handle the rest. Knowing that around 8:15 PM, a black van will pull up expecting anything but handcuffs. Marinette knew that she was safe, but this child?! She knew she did her job and a good one so the criminals inside were definitely out cold, but the last thing she could ever do is leave someone out here with them nearby.

Or was that all a dumb reason to have a chance to direct this kid home? Or to hear them call her a superhero, just one more time. A title that seems to bring a sense of nostalgia and-

The gears in Marinette’s brain spun a little faster as she thought over the real problem in front of her.

Why is this kid even here? Where are their parents? And-

“You fought that guy that was hurting the owner of the corner store.”

“I-,”

The store robbery. The unexpected rescue that almost blew her cover. Chat chewed her out for that and was his trump card whenever they got into fights for that whole week, but she knew that if she didn’t jump in - he would have instead.

“-And now too.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, right now.” The child repeated, shaking their head with a grin. Their little gloved hand reaching up to adjust the wool on their mouth.

“You’re dressed like a superhero. With that mask, boots, and red superhero armor. You even got a cape!” The child exclaimed. Pointing eagerly at Marinette’s outfit. Her boots were a little out of place to brush it off as her daily shoes. Her superhero ‘armor’ was nothing but the protective padding around her torso and shoulders. The cape was just the silhouette of her trench coat. It’s oversized so it did give a cloak feeling to it.

Marinette pulled the belt of her coat a little tighter.

“I- Look it’s late and you shouldn’t be here,” Marinette huffed. Nodding her head towards the nearest bus stop.

“Did you get off at the wrong stop or are you lost?”

“I’m walking home today. My Dads are at work and told me to wait for them-but ... I couldn’t really stay at school so I decided to take the bus.” They stumbled over their words, getting really quiet before they opened their mouth again- but Marinette already got the picture.

“Come on then,” she sighed, tucking her own scarf over her face before reaching out her hand. Before she could ask, a pair of small fingers curled around her palm. Feeling those hand-me-down gloves not doing any good as the fabric felt thin and light. Unconsciously rubbing them between her thumbs to warm them up.

“Let’s go before your family gets scared, okay?”

“Okay.” The child answered before grabbing her arm a little tighter.

——-

“Your teacher sounds nice.”

“Ms.G is mean at times though.” The child added, correcting Marinette’s statement as they kicked the stone under their shoes. Hopping over the black gum on the sidewalk before adding the fact Ms. G yells when the other kids don’t listen to her during recess.

Marinette hummed again. Letting the kid speak to fill the chilly air and silent between them with the story of their day. Asking short questions to get them to speak more and more until they reached the kid’s home street. This one-sided conversation help pass time a little faster and put the kid at ease. Once getting there, Marinette couldn’t help but notice it seemed a bit familiar. Maybe it was because of the decorations and ribbon hanging from the windows and doors.

Another chill ran up her neck, the cold nipped her skin a little more before she tugged on her coat a little tighter, feeling the padding on her belly rather than the squish that her jeans would cover. Fumbling with her buttons before she sighs another cloud into the air. Keeping her hand entangled with the kid’s before she drops down to their height.

“There, by the light post, is that your house?”

The kid looked up and with a crooked smile- nodded. The pom-pom on their hat bounced before quickly thanking her. Telling her that she just had to meet “Dads” so they could show them that they got home safe thanks to her.

But Marinette brushed off that invitation. Explaining how she has to get home too before someone starts worrying for her.

It pained Mari to have to let go of the kid’s hand even though she just met them some minutes ago. It seems to hurt a little more when they asked for her name and she couldn’t answer. So she did the best thing she could do, she played the superhero role.

“It’s a secret.”

“I can keep a secret.” The kid responded coy.

“Yeah well, it’s a superhero secret and if I tell you then my identity would be in danger.”

The kid’s face lit up much like the light decorations around the neighborhood.

“So you ARE a superhero then!”

“Ha, sure.” Marinette smiled. Standing up to her full height before motioning them to start walking to their door.

But the kid didn’t move away but just step a little closer.

“So what is your superhero name, then?”

“I-“ Stumped on what to say next before it hit her. It all seems like an old memory, a classic case of deja vu. Except for this time, it wasn’t a blond wearing leather asking.

“I’m Ladybug.” She beamed, cocking her head to the side- letting her bangs slide over, giving the kid a better look at her mask.

It took four tries to get right, but it became the perfect mold of her face with patience and practice. Slipping easily on and staying on. It was even red and spotted too, much like the old gear she had back in high school.

“Ladybug…” the child repeated. Chewing the name in their mouth before accepting it.

“Thank you so much, Ladybug! I’ll promise that-“

Then she was gone. The woman that just walked them home and to safely had disappeared into thin air. All without a trail of snow prints to follow.

Before the kid could call her out, the front door opened. Quickly feeling the warm lights cover their back as two sets of arms pulled them near.

“God, you had us so worried!”

“Where were you?!” A red-head shouted, alternating from pulling his child close and yelling on how scared they were.

“Dads! You will never believe who I met?” Exclaimed the child, ignoring their parents’ shouts as they went on explaining the lady that walked them home and save them when that robbery happened last week and who-

The child threw their hands up and around, it was quite cute to watch. Marinette couldn’t stop the small chuckle that leaked from her coral lips as she watched the ‘show’ from the rooftop. Noticing how the kid’s parents seem confused, angry, and then relieved and then back to confused when the kid said her name.

“-then I got home thanks to the help of Ladybug! She saved me and she-“

“Ladybug?”

“Yeah, Ladybug! She was wearing this mask and had this coat and then she had this superhero armor over her clothes!”

The parents pulled their kid in the house and even with closed doors, Marinette could still hear the kid boast about her.

The kid with the bug eyes couldn’t stop gushing over the red bug.

Wait, until the cat hears about this.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous the tales of ladybug and chat noir #my writings #lee writes #fic #ml fic #marinette dupain cheng #a short drabble #my writing #my fic #no so #miraculous au #ml au #au #happy holidays #aged up #aged up au

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hermannsthumb · 5 years

Note

Halloween party, cold, and bonfire?

Anonymous said: Bonfire

from autumn fic meme here: 8. Halloween Party + 37. Cold + 23. Bonfire

for this i was thinking that college au might be fun, especially bc ive had this art on the mind for a week....hehe

—————————————————————

“Well, well, well,” a short Godzilla says across the cider bowl from Hermann, his hands—well, claws—on his hips. “What’s a guy like you doing somewhere like this, Gottlieb?”

Hermann freezes, ladle in hand. “I’m sorry,” he says, “do I know you?” Hermann does not generally make a habit of associating with people who attend parties in obnoxious felt Godzilla costumes. Clearly homemade ones, at that.

The Godzilla struggles with his mask for a few seconds before finally ripping it off with a triumphant crow. And, of course—the red-faced, sweaty, messy-haired boy beneath it is none other than Newton Geiszler, who is exactly the sort of person who would attend a party in an obnoxious felt Godzilla costume, and who Hermann, begrudgingly, associates with, on account of being his assigned lab partner. “Oh,” Hermann says. His mouth twists down automatically. His fingers tighten on the ladle. “Hello, Newton.” He didn’t know Newton would be coming. In fairness—Hermann didn’t know that he himself would be coming, either, until about forty-five minutes ago.

Newton adjusts his fogged-up glasses and grins. “Seriously, what are you doing here?” he says.

“I was invited,” Hermann says, spooning cider into his cup and determined to keep a level head: most of his interactions with Newton tend to erupt in violent arguments. Usually through no fault of Hermann’s own. Usually. He’d rather that not happen in the home of a complete stranger, and well past midnight, at that. “I don’t know if I can say the same for you—”

“Ha-ha,” Newton says. “That’s not what I—wait, hand me the ladle, don’t be a dick—not what I meant. I thought you hated this kind of shit. Loud music, and people, and socializing—”

Hermann narrows his eyes and takes a sip of his hot cider; immediately, he starts coughing it back up. He expected it to be spiked, but not spiked this much. It tastes as if there’s an entire bottle of butterscotch schnapps in there. There probably is. “That’s strong,” he wheezes.

“It sure it,” Newton says, and grins wider. After a brief struggle with the cider (because, as Hermann imagines, it’s difficult to do anything with the moronic gloves he’s wearing) downs all of his glass and goes back in for another. “I made it myself. Who invited you to a party?”

Apparently the conversation isn’t over yet. “Tendo Choi,” Hermann says, still wheezing, “from, ah, computer science.”

“No shit!” Newton crows. “You know Tendo?” Hermann nods. “We were in a band together, you know, freshman year, with some other guys. And a little bit of junior year. And this past summer.” He coughs. “We had an, uh, hard time sticking together as a group. Musicians, you know, very—temperamental.”

“Mm,” Hermann says, sure it has nothing whatsoever to do with Newton’s personality, nor the quality of the band itself, which Hermann can’t help but assume was very, very low. He’s not surprised of its existence, at least; Newton is the sort who walks around campus with his guitar slung over his back, just waiting for the excuse to whip it out and torture innocent bystanders with half a dozen Violent Femmes covers. “Well, Newton, if that’s all—”

Hermann ducks around the table to make his way to the glass slider. Beyond it lies the expansive backyard, decorated with strings of skeleton garland and paper ghosts from oak tree to oak tree, illuminated only by orange and purple lanterns, and promising a bonfire with significantly fewer people than there are crammed into this basement. Most importantly, it promises freedom: no Newton Geiszler. Hermann will put up with the October chill if it means no Newton Geiszler.

Newton (perpetually unable to take a hint) trails after him anyway. “What’s your costume supposed to be?” he says.

“I’m Alan Turing,” Hermann offers, weakly, because it was a very last minute costume and the only thing he’d been able to think of.

“You’re so lame,” Newton says, “you totally—” and then proceeds to get his tail caught in the slider. He jerks backwards; his drink sloshes to the patio. “Fuck!”

Hermann can’t contain his snort. “King of the Monsters indeed.”

“Yeah, okay, funny,” Newton says. He gives a fruitless wobble. “You’re a regular comedian. Shut up and help me, jackass.”

Still snickering under his breath, Hermann tucks his cane under his arm and gives a great tug on the front of the Godzilla costume. Newton stumbles forward. “Thanks,” he says, and resumes waddling at Hermann’s side, to Hermann’s disappointment. “Anyway—lame. You totally just pulled that out of your closet. I’ve seen you wear that sweater three times this month.”

“You must pay very close attention to me to have noticed that,” Hermann says. “One might even say you’re obsessed with me.”

“As if,” Newton scoffs. “I just can’t help it, you know, everything you wear is just so ugly. Total eyesore. It’s all permanently seared into my retinas. Jesus,” he waddles faster, tail flopping comically behind him, leaves crunching loudly under his giant costume boots, “slow down, will you? I can’t move in this thing.” He huffs out a breath. “Sweating like a bitch, too. It smells like a fucking locker room in here.”

Hermann wrinkles his nose; Newton is so endlessly charming. “Are you going to follow me around all night?” he says.

“I might,” Newton says. “I don’t have any friends—”

“No surprise there.”

“—here. I don’t have any friends here, and you’re better than nothing,” Newton corrects. He sticks his tongue out. “You’re such a jerk, Gottlieb.”

Privately, Hermann wonders why Newton bothered coming to a party he knew none of his friends would attend in the first place, but he supposes it’s hypocritical of him. He doesn’t have any friends here either, after all. He doesn’t even know the host. Tendo Choi invited him—strong-armed him into attending, really, into relaxing for a single night—and yet Hermann hasn’t seen a single perfectly-coiffed hair of his head all night. “Just promise me you won’t be a nuisance,” Hermann says. It’s better than nothing, as Newton said.

Newton is a nuisance. They find a small bench in a deserted corner of the bonfire, and Newton—after a little trouble fitting onto it, with his ridiculous costume tail—talks to Hermann incessantly about every single thought that crosses his mind: where he bought the cider, how much he hates the music blasting through the speakers in the house, how long it took to make his costume, the weather, whether or not Hermann has Halloween plans. “I kinda miss trick-or-treating,” Newton says. “Why is it so weird for adults to do it, anyway? It’s free candy. You don’t just stop liking candy once you finish puberty.”

“Mm,” Hermann says.

“I bet if I wore this everyone would think I’m a kid,” Newton says. “I could get as much free candy as I wanted. One of my neighbors used to actually give out toothbrushes when I was, like, twelve, can you believe it? I thought that only happened in dumb books. I don’t know why he did it, that shit was probably way more expensive than a bag of fucking candy corn. He wasn’t even a dentist.”

“Mm,” Hermann says again. The loud snap of one of the logs in the bonfire finally cracking in half; a chilly breeze rustles the red-orange-yellow leaves of the oak trees, the garland, the ends of Hermann’s hair, and, instinctively, Hermann shrinks in on himself with a shiver. He wishes he hadn’t forgone his warm parka for the sake of his costume.

Newton’s eyebrows knit together with concern. “Are you okay?” he says.

“Yes,” Hermann says. He does up the two buttons of his blazer and wraps his hands around his cup of cider, which, though well beyond lukewarm, is managing to give off just a bit of heat. Enough to keep Hermann’s fingers from stiffening up. “Er—just cold.”

“I have a sweatshirt inside, if you wanna borrow—”

“No,” Hermann says quickly. “It’s fine. Really.”

Newton stares at him. Then, without warning, he’s suddenly closing the wide gap between them and flinging an arm (soft, thanks to his fuzzy costume, warm, strong) around Hermann’s shoulders. Hermann’s shivering stops at once; his ears go hot; his body goes rigid. “Newton,” he stammers. “You—ah—you don’t have to—”

“Shut up,” Newton says. His breath smells like apple cider, the schnapps he spiked it with, candy he undoubtedly grabbed in handfuls from the cheap plastic pumpkin head on the buffet table. This close, even in the low flicker of the fire, Hermann can see that his nose and cheeks are dusted with freckles he’s never noticed before. (He’s never been this close to Newton before.) “And just—take that stick out of your ass a little. I don’t have cooties.”

There’d been a small bubble of warmth building in Hermann’s chest, just below his sternum, threatening to rise and burst from Hermann’s mouth in the form of something mortifying like I only pretend to hate you because I’m very, very fond of you, but Newton manages to successfully squash it and grind it under his heel into the dirt with that single jab. Hermann scowls. “And I don’t have a stick up my arse,” he snaps.

“Arse,” Newton parrots back in the worst faux-posh English accent Hermann has ever heard. “You know that’s the least sexy word ever, right?”

“I’m not trying to be sexy.”

“Oh, and you’re succeeding,” Newton says, “with flying colors.”

“I can’t stand you,” Hermann growls, and then he kisses Newton.

He does it mostly to shut Newton up—and, yes, he’s been gazing at those soft lips all night and wondering what it would be like, because Newton can’t seem to stop biting and licking them every bloody second, yes, he’s been wanting to take Newton’s smug, gorgeous little face in his hands and knock him down a peg since the very first lab they had to work together—but after Newton’s muffled exclamation of surprise becomes a very enthusiastic hum, after his mouth parts open eagerly, Hermann keeps going. He can taste the cider, the candy. He can feel Newton’s fingers sliding through his hair—

Newton’s claws sliding through his hair. “Newton,” Hermann says, making a face as he pulls away. “Are you still wearing your gloves?”

“Oops,” Newton says, dazed, wide-eyed, glasses dangling off his nose. “Am I?” He is: he looks between his hands, just as dazed, as if he’s forgotten that he’s wearing a costume and doesn’t typically have large green monster paws, and then he breaks out into giggles. “I am. Wow. Sorry. I—you kissed me!”

“I did,” Hermann says. He plucks at one of the gloves. “Now take these off. I don’t want you clawing my scalp up.” They’re truthfully nowhere near sharp enough to, but Hermann can’t say he enjoys the sensation of them regardless. Newton has strong hands with strong fingers he’d much rather feel.

“What,” Newton says, and grins and waggles the claws of one hand, “you don’t want to pretend you’re macking on some sexy monster?”

"Newton,” Hermann says, “if you want to ever kiss me again, you will take those damned things off now.”

“Fine. Grumpy.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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thepetulantpen · 5 years

Text

Fairytale/Emotional Support

(Here’s another late contribution for @beaujester-week , a Robin Hood AU for day 5!)

Beau crouches beside a tree and tries to ignore Jester’s giggles behind her, hoping they’re out of earshot of the guards.

“Beau,” Jester whispers as best she can but in the dead silence of the forest, it may as well be a gunshot, “which-“

A twig snaps and Beau’s ears pick up the soft sounds of footsteps on the dirt path that winds through the forest, just a few feet in front of their tree. Reflexes kicking in, Beau pulls both herself and Jester closer to the tree, making sure its silhouette obscures their forms. In the same fluid motion, she covers Jester’s mouth to cut her question short. Jester pouts beneath her hand but begrudgingly accepts the necessity of silence in a run from the sheriff and snuggles closer to Beau.

The guards on the path look irritated and confused, no doubt lost in the twists and turns Beau took through the forest. They’re all sighing with exertion and annoyance, not paid to hike through the woods all day, hunting down an elusive thief for the sake of their delusional sheriff.

“I think she took the other path. Let’s join up with our forces in the east.”

Beau exhales silently, thanking every god she knows and barely believes in. She waits until the last spot of sunlight reflecting off their stupid helmets disappears on the horizon and then moves swiftly from their hiding spot, tugging Jester along.

Her feet have memorized this forest floor, dexterously leading her around roots and rocks, choosing the path of least resistance for Jester’s sake. Jester keeps a running commentary through their walk and Beau lets her, knowing the threat has passed.

Besides, she always loves to hear Jester speak about these things, the pride and excitement in her voice is enough reward for all the trouble they’ve had.

“-then I had my doubles do a little jig to distract them and you stunned the guard like bam! Oh, Beau, it was so fun- we should do this more often!”

“Feel a little bad for getting you involved in a life of crime.” Beau glances up from ground briefly to look at Jester’s face, tone only half joking.

“Pssh, I was kicked out of the last town, remember? I’m hardly as innocent as my pretty face looks!” Jester frames her face with her hands, looking angelic one second, then grinning like a devil the next.

Beau’s heard this story before and she’s only half sure she believes it. Anybody would deny it upon first meeting Jester, a cheerful little tiefling girl clearly incapable of humiliating a politician, committing minor theft and causing mayhem in the streets to mask her flee from the city. But Beau knows her a little better than most, has seen that deeply chaotic and mischievous energy of hers in action. This is, after all, the girl who agreed, without hesitation, to join her quest to pull off one of the most high scale robberies Nottingham has ever seen.

This last job was their biggest yet- and their most personal. Lionett family wineries may not feel the loss of revenue for long, but the poor of Nottingham could certainly be sustained by their stolen money for many months to come.

Beau just wishes she could’ve seen her father’s face when he realized just how much she was able to get away with.

“Beau, are you alright?”

“Hm?” Beau blinks away bad memories and vengeful fantasies to look at Jester, frowning in concern, “Of course. Why? Do I, like, look grumpy?”

“No, it’s just that you’ve got that look on your face like you’re thinking too hard about something dumb.”

Beau laughs and opens her mouth to respond with a joke, a transition to an easier topic, but Jester interrupts, expression earnest and serious.

“Is it about your dad?”

The forest floor is a fascinating thing, textured with unexpected holes and littered with odd plant life, giving Beau something to study while she stalls for time.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Beau looks up from the roots to meet Jester’s eyes, filled with kindness that has become Beau’s lifeline the last few weeks. Those eyes have carried her through heartbreak and abuse, made her feel valuable when Nottingham treated her like a stain on society. She knows she can answer honestly, without judgement or disappointment from Jester.

“Not really.”

Jester hums, studying Beau’s face to detect a lie. When she doesn’t find one, she smiles, a little relieved.

“Well, there’s not much to say anyway- he’s just a stupid, greedy man.”

The words are flippant, easy, but the way Jester squeezes Beau’s hand is not. Her grip is strong, an unforgettable reminder that Jester is there, should Beau change her mind.

Beau would’ve said thanks, or something equally unnecessary, but she catches sight of smoke and the first patches of straw roofs. They’ve arrived.

Jester pushes ahead, switching positions with Beau to pull her ahead, knowing the way from here.

Arriving at the tiny village on the outskirts of town, where much of the poor of Nottingham find themselves, is always an event. It’s a rush of activity and sound, a rush that Jester meets with matching energy, one girl against a village. Beau just hands over the bag of gold, less good at interacting with the kids and the thankful people here. They’re hailed with aliases whispered across the country, legends of heroes who take from the wealthy and give to those less fortunate.

Beau doesn’t know how she got stuck with Robin Hood, but it’s a little late to complain about it. Jester has it easier, having chosen her own name: Maid Marion, so she can take a bit of her mother with her on her adventures.

It’s cute, though not nearly as cute as Jester and Kiri.

“Oh, you’ll finally be able to buy a new cloak and some new toys, isn’t it wonderful?”

“Wonderful!”

Their smiles- Jester’s, Kiri’s, and the rest of the settlement’s- wipe the image of her father’s snarl.

This is the best part of her job.

...

Between jobs, Beau enjoys quiet moments in their borrowed cottage, barely managing to make her own tea and not ruin it. It’s nice out here, just her and Jester enjoying this place before they move onto the next town, the next community in need.

The peace and coziness is nice, of course, but she wouldn’t give up the thrill and the pride of their mission for it. She knows she could never commit to a life of sitting idly after she’s gotten a taste of adventure, of traveling the world in a whirlwind with Jester.

Jester couldn’t either, can’t even finish a quiet afternoon like Beau before she bursts through the door.

“Look at this! Isn’t it terrible?”

Jester shoves two pieces of paper in Beau’s face, too close for her eyes to focus on. She takes them from her and finds herself looking at two extremely shitty illustrations of her and Jester. They are truly comical, with wildly incorrect noses and stringy hair, and they’re supposed to be official Wanted posters, identifying them to the Empire. It’s laughable, and it’s exactly what she’d expect from Nottingham.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re leaving town. Don’t think I could live with people thinking I look like that.”

Jester sits down at the table with Beau, taking her own teacup and pouring it somewhat angrily. Her indignation is frankly adorable, just another faucet of her passion. She feels everything so deeply, and acts on it accordingly.

“I’m making our own Wanted posters for the next town. I mean, this is ridiculous.”

Beau takes a drink and smiles at Jester, soft and relaxed on their day off.

“You could paint pictures of totally different people just to confuse everyone.”

Jester’s entire face lights up at the idea, the inspiration sparking nearly tangible mischievous energy. When Jester has found an idea she likes, she can talk about it for hours, her voice like music in a lilting tune that keeps Beau invested in what she has to say.

It doesn’t require much to keep Jester going once she’s gotten fixated on something, but Beau interjects with her criminal expertise when needed, adding fuel to the fire. They’re a perfect duo in that way, unconditionally supportive, regardless of the quality of their ideas or rationality of their worries.

Scheming is their kind of downtime, staying outside and talking about nothing and everything until the tea is gross, fireflies are swarming, and the stars twinkle above them.

Beau calls it a night when Jester starts yawning, following her back inside the cottage with just one last glance at the night sky.

She doesn’t recognize any of the constellations, but she swears the stars are scattered in the exact same pattern as the freckles decorating Jester’s face.

For a moment, the sky seems to smile at Beau and she smiles back. She must be more tired than she thought.

She goes inside, to sleep beside her lover, partner in crime, and roommate. There’s work to be done tomorrow, they’ll need their rest.

#beaujesterweek2019 #beaujester #critical role #jester lavorre #beauregard #this one is a bit of a mess #but i liked the idea so #oh well #maybe ill edit a better version later

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halforcpaladin · 5 years

Text

circumstances change

[a modern AU beauyasha fic] [read it on a03]

The latest act had just ended and the room was buzzing. Maybe Beauregard was buzzing. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, tasting the sting of tequila as a remnant of the liquor touched her tongue and an alcoholic electric current twisted around her spine and settled in her stomach. She exhaled and set the shot glass down on the bar. She looked across the room of The Stir, an unassuming dive bar that was Jester’s favorite.

Dim bodies painted in a warm, low light mingled in the room in clusters. Beau thought better of seeking out her friends, feeling unprepared to rejoin complicated conversations with strangers without a little more to drink, a little more buzzing in her head. She turned and leaned over the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention with a stare. The bartender noticed her and nodded, dropping off a drink to someone else as he moved behind the counter. He turned his ear towards her and leaned in.

“Jack and coke,” the woman next to her said before Beau could speak.

Beau narrowed her eyes. “Hey–”

The woman turned. She was pale with heavy black eye makeup that made her look a little like if Alice Cooper was a tall woman with impressive biceps and magnificent hair. The woman blinked a long, slow blink. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.” Her voice was softer than Beau imagined it would be.

“No, it’s fine, um–” Beau cleared her throat. “My name’s Beauregard.”

The woman tilted her head a little, reminding Beau of a puppy. “Beauregard?” She said it loudly, looking up into the space above Beau’s head, making sure all of the syllables came out clearly.

“Yeah. My parents really wanted a boy.”

“Yasha,” the woman said, leaning in to be heard over the crowd.

“Yasha. Nice to meet you, Yasha,” Beau said, holding her hand out in front of her.

Yasha smiled a little. “Are we shaking hands?” She asked, but took Beau’s hand and shook it with an over-practiced formality.

The bartender appeared again and left the jack and coke by Yasha. Beau twitched, unsuccessfully trying once more to get the bartender’s attention before he floated away, lured by the whim of someone else, someone perhaps with a less severe face and a more palatable personality, someone who sailed through life getting their drinks promptly and never knew the shame of being ignored by the one who controls the flow of alcohol. Beau sighed.

Yasha took a sip from her glass. Beau thought she heard the fizz of the coke near Yasha’s lips.

“You don’t have a lot of luck with bartenders, do you, Beauregard?”

“No, but I have other very impressive skills. I can do a backflip. Twelve-year-olds think it’s very cool.”

Yasha laughed into her drink and turned her gaze out to the room. “Maybe you should try the backflip with the bartender. You never know.”

Beau rested her elbow on the bar and looked at the floor. It was heavily scuffed black and white tile, a clear sign of a bar that never did well enough to redecorate but never badly enough to close down. Soft music thrummed under the crowd’s collective voices, reminding everyone to continue to have fun while the next act prepared, building tension, filling in the silences. “Show me how you do it, then.”

The woman turned back to Beau, setting her glass on the bar and licking her lips. “I’m not sure you are prepared for such high level tactics.”

“Try me,” Beau said. She told herself to suppress the growing fluttering in her chest.

“Ok,” Yasha said. “Um, you just have to be direct.” She closed her eyes, drawing her brows together as she made a comically sharp movement of her hand and her eyelids snapped open. “Hey, you… bartender,” She said firmly. She held her hand out with her palm facing forward for a second before dropping it. “Like this,” she said, the corner of her mouth twitching up.

Beau’s chest filled with warmth as a genuine laugh bubbled up in her throat and floated past her lips. This was what she imagined Odysseus’ crew felt when they first ate a lotus in the land of the lotus-eaters: free, dizzy, charmed, and a bit drunk. Ready to leave their world behind for more of it, more of this special thing that drowned rationality. Beau bit her lip.

Yasha picked her glass back up and swirled the brown liquid, the cubes of ice tinkling as they clattered together, the coke fizzing again. She watched the glass and ran her forefinger along the side of it, leaving a line in the condensation.

Beau inhaled. She said, “So, do you know someone performing tonight?”

It was then that the women were accosted by a purple tiefling adorned in so much metallic jewelry he seemed to provide his own light. Like an anglerfish, Beau thought. He wrapped his arms around their shoulders and pulled them towards him. “I see you two have met!”

“Molly!” Yasha said, grinning.

“You know this asshole?” Beau said nearly at the same time, catching herself worrying about how much jack and coke was spilling from Yasha’s glass as Molly shook their shoulders.

“Beauregard, I’m shocked,” Molly said with a wide smile. “I’ve done things to warrant such name calling, but never to you.”

Beau was about to protest before Yasha wrapped her arm around Molly and pulled him in for a kiss on his cheek, his red eyes crinkling as their faces pressed together. “Are you prepared to take the stage, Mollymauk?”

Molly rested his head on her shoulder. “Well, I ate a shitload of shrooms earlier so it’s going to be fun for me, at least.”

“You’ll do really well.”

Beau rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. She wished she had a drink in her hands. Mollymauk Tealeaf was the performer she had reluctantly agreed to see tonight, and if pressed she may admit that she was fond of him, but his characteristic teasing was not welcome when she was so vulnerably trying to impress a stranger. A beautiful stranger in a black t-shirt with ripped off sleeves.

Molly lifted his head. “Be nice to me, Beau, or Yasha will never go home with you tonight.” Ignoring Beau’s intense stare, he pulled away from them and cocked his head towards the front of the bar. “I gotta get back there. I’ll see you two after the show.”

He turned to leave, his heavily embroidered jacket fluttering behind him like a cape.

Yasha patted his ass as he left and said, “Good luck, Mollymauk.”

Beau had laid her hands on her face to hide what she assumed was a wicked blush painted across her cheeks. “He loves to embarrass me.”

“I can see why.”

Beau peeked out between her fingers, eyeing Yasha. “What does that mean?”

“You’re cute,” Yasha said. She raised her glass to her lips and turned her face away as she looked back out into the crowd.

Beau dropped her hands. “Oh.” If she hadn’t already developed a crush, she now gave herself permission to develop one in light of this outrageous flirting.

The lights in the room dropped and the shades of Yasha’s skin faded to grey in the reflection of distant stage lights. Yasha’s head turned back to Beau but her facial features were indistinguishable in the darkness. Just a sliver of her cheek was lit, like the moon days before it was new.

“How do you know Molly?” Beau said.

“He was my roommate when my wife and I first moved here.”

Beau opened her mouth to speak and a wordless bit of air fell out instead. Wife?

“How do you know him?” Yasha asked.

Beau blinked an above average amount of times per second and said, “He’s a friend of a friend.” A friend of a friend of a friend, really.

The light on Yasha’s face turned lavender and the music rose, the thrumming falling into sync with the tempo of Beau’s rapid pulse. She blinked a couple more times, and then turned to face the stage. Wife?

Beau made another attempt to get a drink from the bartender.

It was three bottles of cheap beer and several acts later that Beau found herself alone with Yasha again. The crowd had thinned and the lights had come up, a warning to stragglers that they should get the hell out of there.

Fjord and Jester and Molly were in a tight circle, Jester holding onto Molly’s shoulders while she made fervent proclamations about Molly’s talent and charisma. Molly held onto a small bouquet of flowers as he laughed.

Yasha was collecting everyone’s things and Beau was helping. “So, what’d you think of the performances?” Beau asked as she looked for the match to Jester’s glove.

“Well, Molly was the best,” Yasha said. “Obviously.”

“Right, but the person in a baby doll mask really made an impression on me.”

“They… certainly made an impression,” Yasha said. She placed earmuffs on over her ears.

Wow, Yasha was an earmuff wearer. Cute. Beau found Jester’s glove on the floor pinned under the leg of a chair and pulled it out. Standing back up made it clear to her that she had definitely passed the threshold of tipsy and had just snuck her way into drunk.

Jester bounded over with the others in tow behind her. She took her gloves from Beau and began prepping for the winter wind that would surely greet them outside the bar. “Um, Beau,” Jester said as she pulled her hat down over her ears. “We’re going to go to that place a few blocks over. I wanna dance.”

“Sounds great, Jessie. Are you going, Yasha?”

“I’ll go where Mollymauk goes.”

Molly threaded his arm through Yasha’s and said, “We’re going!”

The group bundled up, closed their tabs, exited the bar and faced the February air with a justifiable amount of wincing and groaning. The sky was the black-blue-white glow reflecting from the remnants of snow that clung to sidewalks and rooftops throughout the city. Golden streetlight cut through the blue at scattered intervals. It was late enough that there was almost no one else outside.

Beau found herself drifting and weaving through the group, trying to make it seem natural when she ended up next to Yasha and several steps behind everyone else. They fell into step with each other. Yasha buried her chin in her scarf and dug her hands in her pockets.

“So, Yasha,” Beau started. Her breath was a crisp white cloud in the air. “You’re married?”

“Yes, but…” Yasha paused and blinked. “We’re… We’re open.”

“Oh.”

Yasha dug her face back into her scarf and Beau heard her breathe into the wool.

“How does that work?” Beau asked, shifting her gaze forward. Ahead of them, Jester hung on to both Fjord and Molly and skipped across the broken concrete sidewalk. Beau thought she heard Fjord warn her about ice.

“Well,” Yasha started, bringing her face out into the air, “we met when we were very young. And we left our hometown together. So, we never really knew anyone else except each other.” She paused as they reached an intersection and then hurried across the crosswalk, Beau following behind her. The crosswalk sign blinked to get their attention, warning of impending green lights, but no vehicles arrived to realize the threat. “We decided to give each other certain allowances… but there are rules,” Yasha said once they reached the other side.

“Rules?”

“Yes.” Yasha said, looking down at the broken concrete sidewalk.

“Like what kind of rules?”

“We tell eachother everything. Communication is very important.”

“Of course.”

“And if one of us decides to… to know someone else, it must be someone temporary.”

Ahead of them, Fjord and Molly had stopped walking so they could lift up Jester as she attempted to swing between them. Both of them were noticeably struggling with effort.

Beau stopped a good distance behind the rest of the group and Yasha paused to stand next to her. Above them, a street light flickered just once. Beau said, “Well, that’s perfect!”

Yasha furrowed a brow.

Beau took her hands out of her pockets and folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t even live here, I’m just visiting a friend,” Beau said. “I’m temporary.”

Yasha’s lips parted a little into what could be interpreted as a smile. “Oh.”

Neither of them spoke for several seconds as pieces began to click together, forming a new picture of what the night could be. For what Beau realized was the first time that night, they looked each other in the eyes and held their gaze.

It was Beau who finally spoke. “Yasha, would you like to come home with me? For something temporary?”

Yasha exhaled and Beau watched the little white cloud of her breath dissipate into the air, trying to collect each particle in her memory as the silence drew out between them. “Yes,” said Yasha.

“Jester! I need your house keys!”

They held hands in the street, Beau pressed her lips to the bit of Yasha’s neck that was not covered by her scarf, Yasha pulled Beau in close to her as they walked, but it wasn’t until Beau opened the door to the house, dropping the keys only twice before successfully fitting the key in the lock, that they really touched.

At first it was frenetic and fumbling as they fit kisses in between pulling their winter layers off. Gloves and scarves and jackets were tossed to the floor. It slowed down for a moment while Yasha made a show of looking around Jester’s home, commenting on the number of dead plants. Beauregard picked up one of Jester’s hats, a straw sunhat with holes for her horns, and placed it on Yasha’s head. Yasha picked a dark green visor to put on Beau, and they laughed and kissed again, the brims of their hats knocking into each other and eventually falling off as they pulled each other closer.

They worked quickly to unfold the old blue futon that Beau had been using as a bed while visiting and they finally laid down together. Yasha threaded her fingers through Beau’s hair until the ribbon tied haphazardly around her bun came loose and her hair fell down around her face, catching the yellow street light that filtered in through the window above the futon.

Their bodies pressed together and their breath became warm and shallow. Beau pressed her lips to Yasha’s skin. She lifted her head and whispered, “You are so sexy.”

Yasha laughed and her back lifted away from the futon cushion as Beau began to kiss a line down her stomach. Beau pulled Yasha’s underwear down gradually, thinking that she didn’t expect Yasha to have such frilly undergarments. She lay her hands on Yasha’s stomach as she placed her mouth in between Yasha’s legs and Yasha sighed, a little dance of relief fluttering through her body.

When they were finished and tired, the alcohol and the late hour coaxing them towards a long, deep sleep, Yasha and Beau took a moment to look into each other’s eyes. Yasha placed her hand on Beau’s neck, her thumb stroking the shaved edge of Beau’s hair, and she said, “Where are you from?”

“California,” said Beau. “Wine country.” She blinked and took her hand out from under the covers to rub her eye.

“This doesn’t happen to me often, Beau.”

“Oh,” replied Beau. She thought about lying and saying me neither, she thought about what the truth really was, because she did often find herself in bed with a new woman, but she also did not often feel this: a thrumming in her veins, a little flower blooming behind her eyes when she looked at the other woman’s face. Maybe that’s what Yasha meant. Maybe that’s not what she meant. Beau didn’t ask.

Yasha’s eyes were closing and staying closed, but she kept talking. “I want to know more about you, Beauregard. Tell me more about you.” She yawned. “What do you do?”

“I don’t do anything. I don’t know what I’m doing,” Beau said. Yasha was reminding her of a puppy again.

“Sure you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Beau said, but Yasha had already fallen asleep.

Yasha woke up the next morning with an ache in her head and a text on her phone.

Beauregard (stirred you at the stir) 6:21 am

i hope you don’t mind i put my number in your contacts. i had to leave to catch a flight this morning.

Beauregard (stirred you at the stir) 6:21 am

you should really put a lock on your phone

A man with red hair and a fraying green bathrobe was making pancakes in the kitchen. He noticed Yasha waking up and said, “Hello? Would you… do you want pancakes?” He waved his spatula in the general direction of the pancakes.

Yasha picked her shirt up from the floor and pulled it on over her head. She placed her phone back down and looked at the wood floor of Jester’s home, thought to herself that it could really use a wax, noted the pile of hats stacked up next to the futon, and looked back up to the man in the kitchen. “Sure,” she said.

Six months passed without a word. Fragmented images of the brown-skinned woman with a blue ribbon in her hair faded in and out of Yasha’s mind, but she chose not to grasp on to them. Temporary. It was all temporary. She pictured Beau standing in a vineyard in California, the sun shining so bright it was blinding, the greens and yellows and browns of rolling hills painting a backdrop behind a smiling Beauregard.

After six months, she felt she had finally moved on.

Yasha awoke in her bedroom in the light of an early morning August sun. Zuala slept next to her, her body still. Her eyelashes looked bleached white in the sun. It was a Monday. She’d have to get out of bed very soon.

Yasha rolled over and blinked slowly. Out of habit, her hand reached for her phone, tapping the screen until it came alive. The time was clear in rounded white numbers: 7:05am. Five more minutes before her alarm went off.

Below the time: new messages. The name made her heart jump.

Beauregard (stirred you at the stir) 1:05 am

hey, its beau. remember how i didnt know what i was doing last time we saw each other?

Beauregard (stirred you at the stir) 1:05 am

i moved. i’m living with jester.

Beauregard (stirred you at the stir) 1:06 am

would you want to see me?

Yasha pulled her olive colored comforter up over her head, pressed her face into the mattress and whispered, “Shit.” Outside, a bird started singing.

#critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #femslash #cr fic #george tm

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captainmazzic · 5 years

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I decided that I could use 10-15% of my tax return on something frivolous and indulgent, so I went down to my local comic book shop and purchased a few Star Wars anthologies. I got Captain Phasma’s comic (quite good), both volumes of Vader’s newest series (excellent), and the Infinities collection.

I was not expecting the Infinities collection to be my absolute favourite out of all of those, but here we are. SPOILERS below the cut, because this comic series is FANTASTIC and I want to highlight my favourite points about it.

Okay so first of all, the Infinities collection is essentially a series of AU stories set in the Original Trilogy timeline. There are four story arcs total, one each dealing with an alternate timeline for each movie, and a fourth one that is simply a comic book adaptation of the original rough draft. Each one is better than the last, but I’mma breeze over the first three just so you can get a taste of this smorgasbord of awesome before I hyperfocus on my favourite one.

So the first story deals with the “what if” storyline of if Luke had missed his shot on the first Death Star. Essentially, it detonates too early on its way down, the rebel fleet is routed, Han and Chewie hightail it out there to save their own skins, Leia gets captured, and Luke goes straight to Dagobah. In this one, we get such treats as Imperial!Leia, Blaster-wielding Imperial!C-3PO, a restored Imperial Senate, Yoda actually getting off his ass and leaving Dagobah to confront... Tarkin?, an Imperial Guard fight scene, and the whole-ass fucking Death Star ramming into goddamned-fucking-Coruscant. It’s a glorious hot mess and once I breezed by Yoda’s typical pontificating, I loved every single panel.

The second story answers what would have happened if Luke had died in the snow on Hoth. Despite the pretty sobering premise, there’s an ongoing humor point of Han thinking HE’S the next chosen one and has to train to be a Jedi, but it’s clearly Leia. Insert hilarious misunderstandings here. Boba Fett shows up unmasked in this one, and because of a single scene I’m not hopelessly shipping him with Lando. In this story, we have things like Jedi!Leia, lots of beautiful shots of Dagobah landscapes, Cloud City falling, Vader interacting directly with Jabba, Vader interacting directly with C-3PO, a trippy inside-Vader’s-head sequence, and the epic conclusion happening in Dagobah’s swamps. Leia is a constant treasure throughout this one, and it makes me sorely disappointed that we never got lightsaber-wielding Leia in the actual movies.

The third story asks what would have happened if Han Solo’s rescue from Jabba the Hutt had failed, and is by far the best of the “what if” stories. In this one, Jabba has an early demise in a massive explosion that takes his entire palace out with him. But Fett still has Solo, so our friends set off on a long chase to hunt him down. In the meantime, Yoda is whining about how magical-Force-fate isn’t doing it right, and Luke should have come back by now to complete his training. He dies mid-whine, the Emperor feels his death, and sends Vader to Dagobah. Luke also feels his death, and also ends up going to Dagobah. The rest of our heroes find Fett, Leia steals Slave I along with Solo-the-still-carbonitecicle, but by the time they thaw him out he’s permanently blind. Meanwhile Luke’s been captured by Vader, we have a ton of father-son angst and attempts at bonding, and Leia tries to go and rescue him. SHE gets captured as well, and they’re both taken before the Emperor on Death Star 2.0. There’s a scuffle, but Vader can’t bring himself to kill his kids. He loses an arm (again) and as the rebel fleet attacks all around, the Emperor disappears into the shadows and Leia insists on taking wounded Vader with them. Luke happily agrees, and they flee the scene. The next time we see our intrepid heroes, they are joined by Vader, still very Vader, but dressed in a white version of his suit. Together they plan on discovering the location of the Emperor and finishing their fight. It’s... honestly glorious. Vader has no major moment-of-regret or tear-filled turn-around, he simply thanks Leia for saving him. He just wants to be with his kids, and if that means he’s helping the rebellion then WELP looks like he’s a rebel now. It’s delightful.

But even as awesome as that story was, my favourite is still “The Star Wars”. It’s adapted directly from the very first rough-draft screenplay by Lucas, and even though it is certainly familiar, it’s definitely NOT the same story. Lightsabers are everywhere, and generic characters have white-blue ones while Important People like the main characters all have red ones. The Galactic Empire is literally just an empire that supplanted a PREVIOUS Empire. The Jedi-Bendu and the Knights of Sith are also very literally just rival warrior clans that have nothing to do with quasi-religious drivel and while they have mysterious powers the only reference we have to the Force is when they stay “May the force of others be with you all”. I just... I LOVE this aspect of this story. It makes it so much more enjoyable.

Luke Skywalker is a grizzled old Jedi who used to be a top general and then war advisor, with little in the way of posh diplomacy, and who is not shy about saying things like “War is by business”. He’s buddies with one Kane Starkiller, whose son Annikin is a teenage-ish Jedi warrior-in-training that Skywalker takes on as his Padawan. Leia is the spoiled and scrappy princess that he ends up having to protect, and while she’s kind of a disappointment in the story many of the other characters are definitely not. C-3PO and R2-D2 are in this one as well, but AJKFLSFHDS HOLY SHIT R2 TALKS, that threw me for a fucking LOOP I’ll tell you. Han Solo is a massive green alien who reminds me a little of a scaly version of Khem Val except Solo is old buddies with Skywalker. Solo gets a red lightsaber too. He big. He hot. Sarc like.

Anyway. Darth Vader’s in this one, but he has no face-covering helmet and is instead a rather engaging man with one red eye. He’s not a Sith, though. That role goes to one Prince Valorum, who is an unfairly pretty man in black with a breath mask (most of the time).

(apologies for picture quality, I took these with my phone). It didn’t take me long to ship Vader with Valorum, but honestly Val’s got better things to do in this story. Namely, saving Annikin’s ass and breaking him out of interrogation. They even have that little “we’re not so different” moment, but it’s literally just... rather lighthearted banter while they plow their way through stormtroopers and find the princess. They rescue Leia (again) together, and end up... in a garbage masher.

(I clearly have a thing for Valorum he is my favourite in this, okay.) Their banter is adorable, they think they’re about to die, but a clan of massive Wookiees that look like hairy versions of Garrazeb Orrelios show up, the day is saved, big explosions happen, and our suave Sith Prince Valorum is standing right along with our more well-known heroes celebrating Annikin’s new status as Lord Protector.

It’s... it’s so charming. The whole story. It’s deep enough that you can get into the gritty wartime tragedies happening all around, there’s family bonding and humor and decent people confronting shitty-ass people, but it doesn’t get in over its own head and the characters are just... people. On different sides. Doing their best and doing their thing. Sometimes they’re swapping sides when it makes more sense, and there’s zero angst about it. It’s... refreshing, honestly. The romance subplot between Annikin and Leia is really contrived and kind of painful to watch, but it takes up so little of the story it can easily be ignored. It’s beautifully and expressively drawn, moves fast, and is pretty solidly put together. I really like it. I think I’m gonna go read it all again. XD

#sarc does star wars stuff #sarc reads star wars comics #long post #star wars infinities spoilers #the star wars spoilers #star wars comics #star wars infinities #the star wars

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missjanjie · 5 years

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Branjie Fic | Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer (6/?)

Title: Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer Summary: Brooke Lynn is a graduate student anxiously embracing her new position as her favorite dance professors’ new TA. Vanessa is a sophomore dance major who just might make her way into being more than the teacher(assistant)’s pet. (lesbian/university AU) Word Count: ~2.6k (this chapter)/~16.1k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Vanessa ‘Vanjie’ Mateo/Brooke Lynn Hytes) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch.5

Competition, almost by definition, creates a high-pressure situation for those involved. Competing against someone your girlfriend wants to murder, however, is a whole other echelon of stress. Vanessa did her best to ignore the anxiety and doubt it all brought, letting her determination conquer an propel her into the competition full force. She was a firecracker on the floor, she commanded the crowds’ attention and received it in abundance.

And as quickly as it began, it ended, that was the case for the contestants especially. Everyone on the floor and in the audience held their breath in anticipation. Third place was called, and a petite blonde beamed as she took her spot on the podium, holding up her trophy with glee. Tension only grew before the next place was announced.

“In second place, from right here at New York University, Vanessa Mateo!”

Vanessa was happy, of course she was. But second place almost felt worse than first, because she missed the winning title by that much. Still, she took her place and put on her most dazzling smile as she was handed her trophy, and in a day’s time she knew she would be able to appreciate the award for what it really was. She listened in anticipation for the winner to be announced – she was ready to size up whatever stand-out was in the contest, she wasn’t going to let herself be intimidated.

“And the first-place winner, from Julliard, Lily Byrne!”

Of course, she won, Vanessa thought. Out of everyone she could’ve lost to, it was the one person that was already stirring the pot between herself and Brooke Lynn. Without that outlying factor, she probably would not have minded losing to her – her performance was breathtaking, and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she deserved the win.

Besides, if Brooke’s reaction was to be anything like it was when they first met Lily, this might not be a loss at all. Ever since she had gotten a taste of what jealousy could do to her, she had been craving more, but nothing had quite gotten her to that point again, which Vanessa found frustrating in every sense of the word. And her friends were useless in their advice, “just tell her what you want” – they didn’t get it, it wouldn’t be the same. It was spur of the moment, unprompted, passionate – you can’t just plan it out by request.

But Brooke Lynn seemed damn cheerful when she approached Vanessa, she hugged her tight, picking her up and spinning her around. “You did so well, baby,” she set her down and kissed her cheek. “I know you’ll get the gold next time,” she cooed, her arms still snugly around her. When she looked up, she noticed two women around her age looking at them, and they were standing just close enough for her to eavesdrop.

“See? I told you she’s the one that, you know…” one of them said, making an obscene gesture with two fingers and her tongue. Both girls giggled, causing Brooke to blush fiercely and abruptly drop her grasp on Vanessa and shove her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

“Let’s get out of here, Vanj,” Brooke murmured, heading towards the exit with Vanessa, who looked resigned to the idea that she was definitely not getting any rough, celebratory or angry sex tonight. But they had only gotten halfway towards the exit when they faced another interruption.

Lily had just gotten away from the congratulatory crowd around her to make her way over to the couple, or to Vanessa anyway. She caught her in a bear hug until the shorter girl started to wriggle in discomfort – not from the tightness of the grip, but how Brooke’s expression was one of dejection than of fiery disdain, like she simply didn’t have the energy to deal with Lily’s blatant flirtation, perhaps due to the gossip only moments prior.

“You were so great out there, I totally thought you were gonna win,” Lily chirped. “You’re still coming to my party tomorrow, right?” as with last time, she was intentionally icing Brooke out to focus on Vanessa but holding herself in such a way that only the couple knew what was happening.

Vanessa hesitated, glancing towards Brooke for confirmation. When she got the silent affirmation, she turned back to Lily and nodded. “Yeah, we’ll be there. I don’t skip out on parties,” she said with a forced laugh, deciding it was best to lighten the mood and alleviate the tension, or try to, at least.

“Oh yay! By the way, it’s gonna be a Halloween theme, so wear a cute costume,” Lily hummed. “Though any costume would be cute on you,” she winked and trotted back off with her trophy in tow.

Brooke exhaled deeply, as if she was holding her breath through the whole exchange. “That girl is exhausting,” she murmured, pinching the bridge of her nose. “How does someone so bubbly suck the life out of me? She’s gotta be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

Vanessa’s brows knitted. “Explain the metaphor while we go costume shopping.”

----------

“You know I’m only doing this for you, right?” Vanessa remarked as she looked at herself in the mirror. “And because I look good as hell. I ain’t never thought of trynna rock orange hair,” she added, adjusting the wig she had on. It fit nicely but looked far from realistic. “Who are we again?”

Brooke sighed as she pulled her hair into pigtails. This was the fourth time she had received this question. “You’re Poison Ivy and I’m Harley Quinn,” she replied. While she wasn’t the one that suggested couple’s costumes, she had suggested the comic book pair – mostly because Vanessa had been insistent on being able to wear a ‘slutty’ costume because ‘it’s tradition’. “Grab a coat, you’ll freeze if you go outside like that,” she added.

Vanessa rolled her eyes but grabbed a coat – Brooke wasn’t wrong – her costume consisted of a green bustier and panty adorn with plastic leaves paired with tights and knee-high boots in the same color scheme. “Are you just gonna go out in that?” she asked and gestured to Brooke’s costume which, while covering her entire body, was skin-tight and not very thick.

“Of course not, let’s go,” she said, walking out the door as she buttoned up her coat.

Lily’s apartment was a ten-minute uber ride away, and the girls were in good spirits by the time they had gotten inside. There was a couple dozen guests, all dressed in various Halloween costumes and mingling throughout the festively decorated space. It was busy enough that it took almost ten minutes before the host had even spotted them.

Once she did, she made a beeline right towards them. “Vanessa! You came!” Lily’s costume wasn’t easily discernible to either of them – it seemed like something that could be worn to class. “You look so cute! See, I’m dressed as Cheryl Blossom from Riverdale, get it? Because of the hair?” the blank stares she received did not phase her, as if she hadn’t even noticed. “Come with me, you have to meet the other dancers,” Vanessa couldn’t object before she was dragged to the other side of the room.

This left Brooke alone, holding both of their coats. She swallowed thickly and took a deep breath, hanging up their coats in a nearby closet before pouring herself a drink. Everything is fine, you can’t control who flirts with her, her internal monologue rang out. She leaned against the counter, looking to see if she could spot Vanessa in the crowd while ignoring the guy trying to grill her on DC Comics trivia.

Even if it was an easy question, Brooke hadn’t even listened, “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” she said flatly, pushing past him as she went to search for her partner in crime. She scanned every person she walked past, nearly stopping a girl dressed as Poison Ivy before realizing she was too tall and too white to be her Poison Ivy.

Finally, Brooke heard Vanessa’s distinct laugh and was able to pinpoint her. Granted, she could probably pick Vanessa out of a crowd of hundreds from her laugh alone. She took a deep breath and counted backwards from ten, not wanting to come in hot and make a scene. In fact, she was trying to stay positive – it could be good for Vanessa to make friends with dancers at Julliard, it’s never too early to start networking, right?

But when Brooke got close enough to see what was going on, she realized Vanessa was fucking far from networking. No, instead she and Lily were dancing and giggling, dancing too close for far too long. Lily had an arm draped around her shoulder and playing with her wig as if it were her hair. Every now and then, her hand would wander and rest on her waist while she would grind up against her, all while Vanessa didn’t bother to keep her distance. In fact, she seemed to be inviting the attention.

“Hey Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa greeted with a clearly faux-innocent tone. She had stilled her dancing to a halt and took a few steps away from Lily.

Lily seemed a little too proud of herself for having gotten that far with the obviously taken girl. It was just another competition that she had won, and she looked from Vanessa to Brooke as if she were dangling another trophy in front of her face.

Brooke pressed her lips together, fighting the lump in her throat. Her heart was pounding, and her cheeks were red, and the only thing covering that was the black mask around her eyes. “Real classy, Vanjie,” she hissed, turning on her heel and heading straight for the door, stopping only to grab her coat on the way out.

Vanessa instantly pushed Lily off of her, realizing her plan to get Brooke riled up was blowing up horrendously. “Brooke! Brooke Lynn! Wait up!” she shouted, racing after her. She, too, had haphazardly yanked her coat off the hanger as she left, knocking down several others in the process. She ran as fast as her boots would allow, desperate to catch up with her. It wasn’t until they were outside of the building that she had finally managed to. “Brooke, hold on, please,” she pleaded breathlessly.

And she did, grinding to a halt and turning to face her with crossed arms and a narrowed gaze. A couple of tears had slipped out of her eyes, but they had been caught under her eye mask, the last thing she wanted was to be reduced to that much of a weak mess in front of her. The mask couldn’t hide all of the anger and hurt in her expression, however. “What the fuck was that, Vanessa?”

That caused Vanessa to freeze in her tracks. Brooke hadn’t used her real name once in the duration of their time together. From her first introduction, she was always Vanjie, if not a pet name – which she secretly liked even more. She felt like a child being scolded, meek and unnerved. “It wasn’t anything for real, I was just fucking around, I swear!”

“I know you were just ‘fucking around’,” Brooke spat. “You know how I feel about how she acts around you, and how hard it’s been to not let it get to me. So, you go let her feel up on you for what? To see how I’d react? To make me jealous? What sort of childish bullshit is that?”

Vanessa looked down, tail between her legs. “No…I mean yeah, I guess that was kinda it. But I didn’t want to upset you, I just…the day we met Lily, you got so intense and passionate and…fuck, gave me the best damn orgasm I’d ever had. I wasn’t gonna let it go anywhere, I didn’t kiss her or nothing.”

Brooke took a deep breath, closing her eyes tight. She exhaled and opened her eyes, though it was more like she was looking through Vanessa than at her. “So, this was about sex?” she clasped her hands behind her neck and stared up at the cloudy night’s sky. “Is this a game to you? Has this whole thing just been a fucking game?” she shook her head and laughed bitterly. “This is all my fault. I knew this was going to blow up in my face,” her voice was strained, and she was no longer even able to look her in the eye. It was all too much.

“Of course, this isn’t a fucking game!” Vanessa huffed. “But I thought you trusted me. You didn’t need to freak and storm out like that!”

“The only thing I didn’t need to do was fall in love with you!” Brooke shouted.

Then there was silence. She hadn’t admitted to anyone, not even herself, just how strong her feelings had grown. She was in way over her head, in a powder keg a second away from exploding. So, before Vanessa could respond, she ran off.

----------

“Let it out, honey. It’s going to be okay,” Nina soothed as Brooke cried with her head in her lap.

Nina was, undoubtedly, the one person Brooke felt safe enough to be completely vulnerable with. Normally she would have just gone home and drank herself to sleep, but the wounds were so fresh and cut so deep. And on top of that, she had just told Vanessa she’d fallen in love with her. Those were heavily weighted words.

“I don’t even know if I meant it, or if it was just the heat of the moment…but shit, I didn’t think I could feel so strongly for someone after two months. And to let her play me like that, it’s fucking humiliating,” Brooke sniffled, reaching out to grab a tissue and wipe her eyes. There were too many emotions, it felt like she was slipping into a pit of quicksand and Nina was the rope she had to grab onto to keep from drowning. She kept replaying that night over and over – the hurt she felt seeing Vanessa and Lily, the explosive anger she felt when she chewed her out in front of the apartment building – how was she supposed to go to class on Monday and act like everything was fine? That meant that, on top of everything else, she was going to have to end up telling Katya about what happened, too.

“I’m not sure if this makes it better or worse, but the things people say in moments of passion are often the most truthful. You know, like how they say drunken words are sober thoughts? Maybe ‘in love’ is a little strong, but you wouldn’t care so much if you didn’t love her at least a little,” Nina told her, gently stroking her hair. “It’s okay to open your heart, even when it starts to ache. Sometimes we need that to feel alive.”

Brooke slowly sat up, wiping her eyes and shifting to a cross-legged position. She had since traded her Harley Quinn bodysuit for an over-sized t-shirt and a makeup-free face. “It’s just…the worst thing about it is if I am in love with her, she couldn’t possibly love me back. You don’t just play with someone’s feelings if you love them…am I overreacting?”

“Maybe, but you’re hurting. Your feelings are valid. I think you need some time to recuperate, maybe call in sick on Monday. I’ll always be here to help you either way,” Nina promised.

Brooke was torn between accepting that her feelings were valid and suppressing them to move on. Part of her resented Vanessa for having such an impact on her, but maybe Nina was right. Despite all of the hurt, this was the most alive, and the most human she had felt in a long time.

#branjie #branjie fic #branjie fanfic #branjie fanfiction #rpdr rpf

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sweettoothshipperrotg · 5 years

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okay I know I said last one but,,,,,, i couldn’t help myself- SO how about Superhero AU? With FrostedNature? (loveuthankubye)

Oh you and your promises of not sending more prompts. LIKE.YOU.COULD.HOLD.OUT (don’t you worry baby it’s fine, your prompts always make me happy :3)

Sorry this took so long, but I’ve finlly completed it.

Based on: ‘You’re my arch nemesis but our best friends are dating…I guess I’ll play nice in civvies, for now’ AU

Hope you enjoy!

SECRET IDENTITITES, MY FOOT

Jackson Overland Frost couldn’t believe his eyes when Bunnymund introduced his girlfriend’s best friend.

This was supposed to be a nice evening. He had cleared up his schedule specifically for tonight (if he kept on canceling every time something “came up”, Bunny would probably have strangled him) and was more than ready to enjoy his first free night in three years.

Luckily, he had been spared his friend’s backlash since Tooth’s friend also had to unexpectedly rain check their outing several times.

It wasn’t like Jack didn’t like the idea of his friend now being engaged (albeit, it had shaken him a little). Toothiana was a lovely woman, a bubbly behavior that balanced Bunny´s down to earth personality. The aussie had never been in such a long relationship before, but on the four year mark he decided to pop the question.

Jack, as the newly designated best man, was having a hard time handling his responsibilities for his friend’s wedding, his job at North’s store, and his “extracurricular activities”.

The couple had declared that their two friends had to meet in order for their nuptials to smoothly continue.

Toothiana had told him a little about the future bridesmaid. Emily Jane was a no-nonsense successful botanic researcher who Tooth had met at college and become friends with.

To anyone else such a friendship would have seemed rather odd, but considering that he had and Bunny had become friends when the blue-eyed boy was getting his ass handed to him during a bar fight, he understood. His opponent had managed to throw him over the table when Jack had tried to be a knight in shining armor and save one of his friends from a rather insistent ex-boyfriend. Aster had knocked the douchebag with a mean right hook and helped Jack up from the floor.

They had been besties ever since.

Now he was at a fancy restaurant in a five-star hotel, surrounded by his two friends and sitting in front of a stunning woman in a black dress who was sending intense glances his way.

Not in the sexy sense, more like “I want to murder you with this very steak knife I have in my hand” kinda way.

Although his presence had never warranted such a reaction from anyone he had met, there was a little problem.

He knew this woman.

And judging by the recognition in her eyes when they shook hands for the first time, she knew him as well.

Despite his best effort to keep his night job and his personal life separate, it seems it had come back to bite him.

The woes that betides a superhero.

Yes, he had superpowers. And yes he spent most of his free time as a vigilante making the streets of Burgess City a little safer to tread.

By now, Jack Frost had become more than just a fable among people.

It had been quite a decision when his ice powers manifested for the same time after his close call with death at the local pond he used to skate at with his little sister.

He remembered the cold and the dark water that surrounded him. He can even recall his sister screaming out his name from the surface. But then he woke up in a hospital bed after being unconscious for days and with his mother and sister asleep by his bedside.

His powers took two weeks to show themselves.

A glisten and a flurry of ice shot out of his hand into the tree next to him and covered it with an intricate and budding frost pattern. And the rest was history.

Had it not been for the present tense atmosphere, he would have chuckled at his memory of his first years as a superhero, running around with a mask and in an old blue hoodie. What a reckless kid he had been.

Thankfully his current supersuit was now more outfitted for combat and to handle his powers. North had been very helpful after Jack had busted into his shop to stop a large robbery.

And yes, of course North knew of his double life (the ex Russian scientist was his go to tech guy, after all). A superhero couldn’t keep down a stable job as easily as the comics made it look, and he had rent to pay.

In his many comings and goings he had faced many different foes: the low life criminals that preyed on the streets, the low level grunts of the mafia families, even a few corrupt leaders of the crime syndicates that sat atop of the city.

But none had been such a challenge like his arch nemesis. Persephone.With such a taste for dramatics, no wonder the universe had decided to search for someone to meet her match.

Her phytokinetic powers had him gawking at her when they first met at a bank robbery – that she orchestrated!

With a graceful swoop she and her plants had descended upon him and confronted him in one of the most engaging combats he had had in ages.

He was quick and nimble, but her defense and her strikes knocked the wind out of him.

Luckily, he had entertained her enough for the police back up to arrive.

She had left him fighting off thorny vines and unable to follow her and end the dance they had started.

Jack Frost had encountered the mysterious woman several other times.

She seemed to dabble in several types of crimes, but was quite adept to burglary. The high-class type. Although those pompous fishes could do with having a little less money, the upper class victims were outraged at the inability of the police to catch the masked villainess.

The mystery that was Persephone had kept him awake many nights. Unfortunately, it wasn’t all from a sleuth-related nature.

Her sly smile was ever present when he closed his eyes, so was her taught yet lithe body he had felt during close quarters combat and her alluring and taunting voice.

In other words, his imagination was playing against him. And he was losing, part of him wanted to put her behind bars so he would stop thinking of her so damn much.In another universe, these two characters would have never recognized the other; oblivious of their double life until some convoluted hand of destiny revealed their identities at a more inconvenient time.

But it seemed that fate had other plans.

His mind was brought back from his machinations all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this call.” Emily’s voice apologized profusely to her friend. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

She sauntered out of view, almost as if she knew that his eyes would follow her.

“I…uh…I gotta use the restroom” He spluttered and excused himself away from the couple.

Jack passed the restrooms, and made his way to the open courtyard the hotel had.It looked quite pretty with the lights that illuminated the ornate fountain.

She was there, with her back to him and appearing to admire the abundant yet harmonic greenery that surrounded them.

Oh how freaking convenient.

He approached, carefully as you would to a deadly animal. The frost was starting to surge on his palm but yet he didn’t attack. The place was secluded but not enough for a full on battle to go unnoticed.

“Of all the places in this city, I find you here.” She still did not turn to face him. “How odd, isn’t it?”

Jack didn’t answer, sizing her up. He felt relief that she hadn’t take the steak knife with her, but that feeling burst when he realized she was far more deadly without it.

“And here I was planning such a show for when we met again.” Persephone said in her usual tone; the type of confident voice that came from always holding all the cards.

“Eager to see me, sweetheart?” The word escaped his mouth before he could help it.

They had slipped into well-known roles; their war of wits just as accelerating to him as their physical warfare.

“Flirt all you want, Frost.” Her head turned to glance at him, a smirk blooming in her lips. “But you’re not handing me over to the police just yet.”

The plants around them swooshed, but not because of the wind.

“Really?” Jack clenched his jaw, his muscles tensing. “And why is that?”

She now fully turned around and stepped forward, but he held his ground.

“Because you wouldn’t want to break your dear friend’s heart, would you?”

That sent a rush of fear through his blood. Instantly, a sharp spike of ice was forming onto his hand and was inches away from her neck. She didn’t even flinch. “If you dare harm Bunny or Tooth-”

“Spare me the theatrics, Frost.” She said calmly, as if she didn’t have an ice blade to her neck ready to run her through. “I’m not going to hurt any of them.”

Ok, that had him baffled.

“What?”

“I happen to truly care for Toothiana, and I even like Bunnymund enough to entrust him the safety and happiness of the only true friend I’ve ever had.” She firmly explained in all seriousness. “I would walk through burning coals for her and make anyone who hurts her wish they were dead.”

“What I meant to say is that we happen to be their best man and bridesmaid, quite crucial to their wedding if memory serves me right.” Emily continued to explain. “And I think it would put a damper on their wedding if I were to get rid of you or, in the most unlikely case, for you to send me to prison. That’s why I’ve decided we should reach a compromise.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

“A truce.” She replied with a confident smile. “I don’t go around on my nightly activities and you don’t try to throw me in jail while our friends are planning their wedding. Heck, we might have to work together to make it happen so it would be useful to not be at each other’s throats.”

Jack Frost had not expected this at all. Was she truly going to just play nice with him until their friends were married?

It felt like he was missing something. Once more, she had pulled the rug from under his feet.

Jack shook his head to clear out the fog, as the wheels spun inside his head. “How can I trust Burgess City’s top criminal to keep her word?”

“I guess it’s all about a leap of faith” She stepped closer and gently placed a hand on his chest, the ice dagger now pressing firmly against her skin but she paid it no mind since she was finding him far more interesting. The conflict that battled within those blue eyes of his was positively delicious, and so was his accelerated heartbeat. “Aren’t you heroes all about that, anyways?”

Silence stretched over them, both enemies sizing each other up for the others next move. But, in the end, it was him who spoke.

To be honest, he was probably making the biggest mistake of his life.

“Fine.” He warily acquiesced. “We play nice until Bunny and Tooth get married, but if I find out that you’re at it again then the deal is off.”

“Sounds good to me” She grinned, trying to suppress the mix of anticipation and adrenaline that had her self-control in such shaky grounds. “Now would you kindly put the icicle away? I need to get back to our table before Tooth gets worried.”

The spike vanished, and he retreated back so her influence would stop messing with his head.

She made her way out of the garden, but turned around to end their encounter with one last warning. “Don’t worry, once we cart them off to their honeymoon we can go back to destroying each other like always”

He didn’t grace her with an answer as the sharp click of her stilettos faded away in the distance.

Jack combed a hand through his hair and sighed.

There were definitely going to be some interesting months ahead of him.

TADA! Hope you liked it.

If you feel like sending asks, don´t hesitate to do so (it might take time but I’ll eventually get there, I promise!)

#emily jane pitchiner #Jack Frost #frosted nature #rise of the guardians #ROTG #jackfrostxemilyjanepitchiner #guardians of childhood #GoC

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shewhowantsmouseears · 5 years

Text

AU Dimeshipping Drabble #3

And here’s the last one, but it’s set in a different AU that’s a bit “newer” between my pal and I. Haunted House AU!

In this one, the world is the “same” as comics/show, save that Magica is actually a witch/demon/ghost thing that was locked away centuries ago in an old mansion Scrooge recently bought. She keeps trying to lure him into letting him out, by cutting off the ties to his family and making him rely on her - pretty much making him rely on her for any companionship, and seducing him in his dreams of a masked woman.

Again, if you want to ask nonsense, go for it!

Wasn't there a fairy tale that went like this once? Let me in, little piggy, let me in, let me in? And of course the pigs didn't. They were smarter than that.

Yet there Scrooge stood before the door, the red key in his hand, and he heard a similar whisper in his ear.

Let me out, let me out, let me out.

But then, the piggies had each other, didn't they? Brothers through and through, and Scrooge was alone. His family had abandoned him. No one cared that he was here – they cared about his business, his fortune, but the man himself? Who gave a damn? He would give and give and they would take and take, and in the end he wasn't a man, just a flesh representation of his wealth. No one wanted the man.

Except her.

Let me out, she whispered to him now, warm and soft and inviting, so different than the attempted spook on his first day. She had no need of his wealth or power. She didn't need him at all – but she wanted him. She spoke to him, she listened to him, she was there when no one else was. Little did he know how much this had been by design, how his isolation had been yet another mark in her game. Let me out, and I am yours.

Some of his sensibility was still alive. It screamed not to trust “the thing in the shadows”, that she must have been locked up for a reason, that she could have been lying all along. But what if she wasn't? Or at the very least, wasn't lying about her powers weakening? She could fade away, and the last remnants he had of anyone caring about him would go with her. It was either free her... or face a life of emptiness. And he couldn't bare it. Not another day. Not another hour. He wasn't strong enough.

Let me out, and I will never leave you.

His hand trembled, but the key was pushed into the lock. Scrooge hesitated. There was still time to pull it out and forget the whole thing.

Let me out... and we will be together forever.

Click.

The door creaked impossibly loud as Scrooge pushed it open, and the stench hit him first – it was so awful he clutched his stomach, gagging, his eyes swimming. He needed a moment to breathe, and another moment to realize what the smell was – a corpse. A corpse that had been locked away for centuries.

His heart rattled underneath his ribs, and he forced his eyes to stay open as he walked inside the room. The windows were barred shut, the only light coming in from behind him. A stone altar was placed in the middle of the room, the floor covered in archaic symbols – painted in blood, if he had to guess – and a white sheet covered the altar, hiding... he knew damn well what.

The sheet moved and Scrooge nearly lost his footing.

Wind picked up out of nowhere, and the symbols glowed, and the smell evaporated. The shadows all around him slithered like starving snakes to the altar, sliding underneath the sheet to give the body form and shape. A voice – a familiar voice – cackled wildly, and the room shook, the house shook, Scrooge held onto the doorknob for dear life. The form underneath the sheet slowly began to sit up, and then slid off.

Thankfully, what sat there wasn't a skeleton or a decaying mound of maggots and rot. She was beautiful, the same way most venomous animals are, dangerous in their colors yet one couldn't take their eyes away. She flexed her fingers, touched her arms, marveled at the sense of sensation again. The house was still, as was Scrooge. She finally looked at him, and smiled.

“You have my gratitude, Scroogie.” A mirthful giggle. “How should we celebrate? On the dance floor, perhaps?” She waved her hand over her face, a familiar mask appearing over her eyes.

Scrooge stared – then mentally chided his own foolishness that he never connected the dots before. Of course it'd been her. He should've felt angry, but there was no point to it. When he spoke at last, his voice was hollow. “What now?” Had he done it all for nothing? Was he to be left behind, now that she was whole once more?

Magica studied him. She slid off the altar – when her feet touched the floor, it was new and clean and fresh. The entire room began to change, turning into what the building might have been when first constructed – no dust, no cobwebs, light and purity and welcoming. She tossed the mask over her shoulder, and was suddenly in front of him. “I am a woman of my word. Tat used to bring fear to people's hearts.” She smiled, amused at her history, and then her arms were around his neck, and she pulled him in.

In the dream, her touch was cold and fleeting. But here, now, warm, so alive and enticing, a honey taste he couldn't get enough of. She wasn't leaving him. Would never leave him. His bony fingers held onto her desperately, as if afraid that by letting her go she'd be gone forever. One kiss led to another, another, another, and when she pulled away he nearly moaned in despair.

Never did he noticed the wisps of magic her hands tucked into his head. A little insurance, to make sure her plaything wasn't going anywhere.

“You are mine.” “Yes.”

“You will never leave me.”

“Yes.”

The rest of the house continued to refurnish itself, save for the outside. Only those of the magical world had any idea what had happened – the exterior of the house stayed old and rickety, the weeds more dangerous than before, the shadows darker and deeper.

Scrooge ducked his head against her neck, and Magica stroked him fondly. Silly little darling. He'd been so easy to manipulate. Yet... she had promised vengeance on those had imprisoned her. It was very possible they were all long dead now, but their living descendants could pay the price. Her pride had lived on that image alone.

But. Hm. Right now... it didn't seem important enough to move. She had time. Revenge could be had on another day. She felt no inclination to leave Scrooge's embrace. Maybe it was because she'd gone for long without touch. Maybe.

She brought his fingers to her lips and kissed them.

If she waited too long, those of the magical realm would come after her, in a desperate attempt to seal her up once more. Just as importantly, they'd try to take Scrooge away, and that would not end well for anyone.

The weeds outside grew thicker, wrapping around crooked trees, and the steel gates locked tightly.

“... I will not let anyone take you from me.”

Should they dare... the wolf would devour them whole.

#dimeshipping #magica despell #scrooge mcduck #fanfic

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