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#it's pretty much the last stop to arrive at with social justice
nohugsgiven · 1 year
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you’d think veganism would be especially popular with tumblr, and yet
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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years
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I find myself travelling back to you // Simon Basset
Request: Could you possibly write a Simon Basset fic where maybe the reader is like a childhood friend and he bumps into them and they talk and catch up with maybe some romance or something - anon
A/N: My first Simon fic! I am a little uncertain of this as I am not sure whether I have Simon’s character down yet. I hope you all like! Thank you for requesting, I hope I have done it justice.
Pairing: Simon Basset x Fem!Reader
Warnings: childhood friends, pining, mutual pining, fluff, some angst, she/her pronouns, female reader.
Word count: 3.8k
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There was not a cloud in the sky as you made your way through Mayfair after having turned down a carriage. Instead, you chose to walk away the morning, happy to feel the warmth of the sun through the layers of your dress.
The streets had started out as quiet; a few souls here and there, but they soon grew busier and busier as routines were started. Dodging bodies here and there, you found it hard to be annoyed at the crowds – the weather too perfect for your mood to be sullied.
A flash of deep red amongst the crowd has your eyes and body on alert; the sound of a deep voice has your ears pricking. “Simon?” You call out, eyebrows furrowing as you spy a familiar head of hair making their way through the crowds.
“(Y/N)?” The man in question answers, eyes wide as he takes in your form.
“It’s been so long,” You whisper, staring into his brown eyes. “I suppose I should call you ‘Your Grace’ now. I was sorry to hear of the passing of your father,” You comment softly, not overly sorry for the death of the man who had mistreated his son so poorly but offering your condolences as a form of social etiquette.
Nodding his head, Simon smiles at you. “Thank you,” He gestures to the elderly lady on his arm, “I am sure you remember Lady Danbury.”
You smile widely at the elderly lady as she grins back at you. “Of course I do,” You laugh, “We meet at least once a week to have tea.”
If possible, Simon’s eyes grow wider to the point where Lady Danbury snorts. “Really now, Simon. Did you expect us ladies to go our separate ways when you left the country?”
“Of course not,” Simon drawls, amused by the elder. “I just didn’t realise you had a close relationship.”
“Well we do. That reminds me,” Lady Danbury pipes up, “I will not be able to make our tea appointment this week, dear (Y/N). My grandson, Gareth, is visiting.”
“Of course, Lady Danbury. We can always rearrange to the following week.”
“Nonsense,” She declares, slamming her cane onto the ground, “Simon will meet with you.”
Casting your gaze to the tall gentleman, it is not hard to miss to the surprise in his eyes. Shaking your head, you state, “I am sure the Duke has more pressing issues than tea with an old friend.”
Lady Danbury opens her mouth to protest your point but is beaten by the Duke. “I have nothing so pressing that cannot be rearranged. I shall meet you tomorrow, I assume Lady Danbury knows the spot.”
With a nod of your head, Simon smiles. He reaches out, grabbing your gloved hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “Until tomorrow then,” He promises, stepping away from you with Lady Danbury in tow.
“Until tomorrow,” You whisper, watching the strong figure of your childhood friend walk away from you.
Glancing up at the still cloudless sky, you wonder how it is possible that the world keeps spinning when your own has changed so much. Simon left the country years ago, and even then, contact with the man was few and far between. He had left for school and seemingly left you behind. The very fact that he was happy to have tea with you sent shockwaves through your body; not a word for so many years and then this out of the blue.
Now glaring at the sky, you wonder whether there wasn’t a larger game afoot. One that had you reuniting with the childhood love that had left you a bereft teenager; it had you hoping you would not be left a heartbroken adult.
------
The pleasant weather was to continue, you thought to yourself as you sat down in the drawing room. Despite the calmness of the room; the sweet sound birdsong outside of your window, your stomach would not calm. Instead, it was threatening to make a mockery of your breakfast. A missive had arrived late yesterday evening from Lady Danbury explaining that Simon would indeed be calling on you for the promised tea.
Smoothing out your pale blue skirts, you wish desperately that you had brought something to keep you occupied as you wait for his imminent arrival. You curse the fact that you left your latest cross-stitch upstairs in your room, having worked on it late into the night. You could have used it to the pass the time to keep your mind busy.
“The Duke of Hastings,” The butler announces, startling you slightly, stepping aside for Simon to stride into the room.
Simon smiles widely as he spots you standing by the table; he rushes over to you, reaching for your hand, placing a lingering kiss to the back of it before straightening. “(Y/N),” He greets, breathless as if he had rushed all the way over here.
“Simon,” You answer, smiling just as widely.
Following his lead, you take a seat at the table, waiting for the tea service to be brought up.
“How is Lady Danbury?” You question, trying to fill the time for the service to arrive.
Simon laughs. “It seems she is on the warpath. Her grandson, Gareth, arrived this morning still out of sorts from the previous night.”
“No!” You gasp, “He’s barely of age!”
“That is what dear Lady Danbury was reminding poor Gareth as she swung her cane at him. I thought I better leave before her attention and her cane turned to me.”
“A good decision to have made.”
“Definitely,” Simon agrees, “As I was leaving, Gareth was promising his grandmother not to touch another drop of alcohol again though I doubt that promise will stick.”
“Poor Gareth,” You lament, thinking of the times you had been on receiving end of a lecture from Lady Danbury. “She does love him so though.”
“She does,” Simon states, “I remember his birth. It feels so long ago.”
You hum in agreement; wondering how quick time had flown by. Gareth was to be part of the next generation of society; he was to bring it into its future, especially if his grandmother had anything to say about it.
“How long have you been home?” You ask, pouring the both of you some tea now that it had arrived.
“I travelled to Clyvedon to settle things there before journeying down to London. I’ve been back in England just short of a month.”
“Oh,” You murmur, trying your best not to feel hurt that he hadn’t actively sought you out. After all, it had been years since you had last spoken. No correspondence had been exchanged throughout the duration of his travels; Lady Danbury had been the one to update you on where Simon was in the world. He hadn’t written you a single letter despite the long friendship that you still held dear. Instead, it had been an utter coincidence, a meeting in the streets that had proved to you he was still alive and breathing.
“I wanted to come see you,” Simon states, feeling bad about the broken sound that had left your mouth just now. He wasn’t one to talk so openly about his feelings, but he found himself needing to explain to you that he hadn’t stopped thinking of you since he stepped foot on English soil.
“Did you?” You question, sounding very much as if you did not believe a word leaving his mouth. By the unimpressed expression on your face, Simon knew you did not believe him.
“I did, but I got so busy. There were estates to manage, ledgers to balance and announcements to be made. By the time I landed in London, I was so thoroughly exhausted that I simply wandered to Lady Danbury’s home and fell asleep on her chaise-lounge. She wasn’t impressed.”
You snort before realising the impropriety, “I can imagine.”
Simon laughs entertained by the thought of Lady Danbury’s face when she found him snoring away on her chair. “As punishment, she made me accompany her on a walk… where we ran into you.”
“What a punishment,” You drawl.
Simon rolls his eyes at your tone. “I like to think of it as a happy coincidence.”
“Then I shall look at it in the same manner.”
There was something different about the man sitting across from you. Was it how he held his spoon? How he stirred his tea? Had the years abroad moulded him into a new person, one you could barely recognise?
Simon held himself entirely different to how he would when he was younger. His posture, perfect. His stance, brimming with confidence. It takes you aback somewhat as you take in the changes the years away at school and abroad have placed on his body.
Would your friendship still stand after so long apart? Is Simon simply placating Lady Danbury by having him meet you for tea? He talks such pretty words; can form sentences that leaves your mind in a spin, but this is the same man that had left the country without so much as a goodbye in your direction.
Reaching for your tea, you distract yourself from such intrusive thoughts. The tea clears your mind; letting you form a blank slate in your mind. “Enough talk of the past, no matter how recent,” You declare, “You left so long ago and came back a new person. It seems I need to get to know the new one.”
Simon smiles at you from his place across the table. “The same could be said for you too.”
You smile though it doesn’t reach your eyes. You don’t mention how you had spent the last few years turning down every marriage proposal offered to you due to your heart belonging to another even in its broken state. “Time is a marvellous thing,” You offer instead, grabbing a small cake from the stand.
“Indeed,” Simon murmurs, eyes following the cake from the plate to your mouth. Despite the time that had passed, his feelings had not changed. They had grown stronger instead. By now, Simon truly understood the meaning of absence making the heart grow fonder. All through his travels, he had cursed himself for not asking you to join him. Through every country, principality and dominion, Simon wondered how it would be for you to be there with him, experiencing the wonders of it all.
“Where was your favourite place to travel?” You ask, leaning forward slightly, “I’ve never travelled further than France.”
Simon nods, remembering your trip abroad with the same pang of sadness he felt back then. He knew logically that you were sat across from him, yet the longing in his body did nothing to help repress the urge to reach out for your hand across the table – to touch you so he would know that you were there, and this wasn’t a figment of his imagination.
“I think my favourite place to visit was Greece. I stayed on the mainland for a while before eventually making my way around the islands. Each island had its own charms, but there was one that had me questioning whether I could live there for the rest of my life. It was so calm, so quiet. Not even the thoughts in my head could distract me from its serenity.”
“Do you miss it?”
“The island?”
“The travelling.”
Simon sighs, staring out of the window as he thinks of over his answer. Eventually, he says, “I miss the sights and the people. I miss the smells and the food. However, I do not miss the time zones. There were moments where I didn’t know what time it was, let alone what day it was.”
“It sounds as if you had a magical time,” You sigh, trying your best not to think of Simon in the desperate heat of the Mediterranean.
“It had its moments,” Simon admits, thinking of the hours he had spent in markets, trying local delicacies and drinking traditionally made coffee. He had adored every second of his travels; he hadn’t minded the odd illness that came along with a new environment when there was so much to learn and so much to experience.
“Will you be travelling again soon?”
“It depends,” Simon answers.
“On?”
“On whether I find anything to keep me here.”
Silence falls over you both as you take in his words, trying to find the meaning of them. Taking a sip of your tea, you wonder whether your friendship with the Duke would be enough to keep him grounded at home for longer than a few weeks at a time. Your heart skips a beat at thought that you might not be enough; your feelings for the Duke had never surprised you. They had not surprised Lady Danbury when you showed up on her doorstep in floods of tears after Simon had left for the continent; she had simply welcomed you into her home with words of comfort and reassurances.
“Will you be attending Lady Danbury’s ball later this week?” You ask, needing to take your mind off that terrible evening.
Simon chuckles, placing his teacup on its saucer. “I shall be in attendance. I find it hard to turn down Lady Danbury. Will you be there?”
You nod, thinking of the dress you had made special. “I will. I’m quite excited if I’m to be honest.”
“Why is that?”
You shrug, “The theme, the music, the company. Lady Danbury never fails with her balls.”
“She does not,” Simon agrees, remembering the grandiosity of such events before he left to travel.
“So I shall see you there?” You ask, your voice hopeful as if daring to wonder whether Simon would attend before no doubt leaving the country once more.
“You shall. Would you save me a dance perhaps?” Simon asks, his usual mischief alight in his eyes.
You smile widely, “Always.”
--------
The rest of the week is spent in anticipation; desperate for the hours to quicken so you could walk through the home of Lady Danbury to find Simon already waiting for you. A hopeless dream, but a dream, nonetheless.
The Duke of Hastings remains on your mind for the rest of the week. One chance meeting and one organised tea and it seems that the man had made his home in your mind and brought to life the feelings you were certain were dormant.
With those feelings in mind, you prepare for Lady Danbury’s ball knowing full well you were about to spend the evening in the presence of Simon, but also watching the mothers of London’s available fawn over him as if he was a prize to be won. It was enough to make your blood boil.
Ridding yourself of such anger, you enter the home of Lady Danbury.
Lady Danbury never spared any expense when it came her to time to host the event of the season. She knew that it would be reported on, that it would be spoken about. She also knew that there was a chance that many matches could be made that night; so no expense could be spared in the battle for love matches among the ton.
The sight of the ballroom takes your breath away as you enter. Lady Danbury had chosen the theme of the moon, stars and sun – asking her guests to dress in colours relating to either. Your navy blue skirts swish together the further you walk into the room, distracted by the moon and star decorations hanging from the high vaulted ceilings.
You’re so enraptured by the scenery that you do not hear the footsteps approaching or the whispers of the women beside you. It isn’t until you hear him call your name that you turn your gaze from the silver decorations.
“Simon,” You greet with a smile, “How have you been?”
“Very well,” He replies, “And yourself?”
“I’m fine, thank you for asking.”
“You look wonderful,” Simon compliments; eyes raking up and down your body.
Your skin heats at his rapt attention; flashes of heat soaring through you as your mind begins to think of all sorts of scenarios where you could keep his eyes on you for much longer. “Thank you,” You answer, voice breathy, “You look very handsome too.”
“Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” Simon asks, voice quiet in the loud room.
Nodding your head, you take his outstretched hand and allow him to lead you onto the dancefloor where many other couples are gathering.
Simon’s hand is soft on the small of your back; soft but insistent as it brings you closer to his own body. Wrapped up entirely in him, you find it hard to concentrate on the steps of the dance, easily being led around the dancefloor by the man who had captured your heart before you had even known the meaning of the word.
A large smile spreads over his face as he spins you out and brings you back. A surprised laugh leaves your lips as Simon spins you once more; the delight settling deep within your bones, melding to become a memory that would always be with you. Simon’s own laughter soons join yours and before long, neither of you are paying much attention and custom – the both of you having far too much fun in each other’s arms to be aware of the looks and glances being sent your way.
As the music fades into silence, Simon’s grip on you loosens reluctantly. He doesn’t want to let go of you; doesn’t know when the next time he can hold you this close will be. If he could, he would steal you away right now, but etiquette and his title demands he be a gentleman.
With a strained smile, Simon bows at you once before turning away without a word. So deep in his thoughts, he doesn’t see you escape to the gardens before it is too late.
------
The gardens at Lady Danbury’s home had always been spectacular, but in the night, they were even more magnificent. Despite the shadows of night, you were not scared as you walked down the paths, fingers absently brushing over the flowers of delicately blooming flora.
Rather, your mind was occupied by the one man who had returned into your life after such a sizeable absence. Simon had danced with you tonight, and every aspect felt so perfect. The way his hand covered yours; the way his palm felt pressed against the small of your back. Bringing your hand to your mouth, you hide the smile on your face as you think of the way he had laughed with you as he spun you across the floor. He had looked so young; so carefree, as if he hadn’t the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I wondered where you had wandered off to,” A voice sounds from behind you, startling you.
“Simon!” You gasp, clutching your chest, “You scared me!”
He chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender as he steps closer to you. “That was not my intention,” He promises, his smile wide.
“What was your intention then?” You ask, an eyebrow raised in challenge.
“I wanted to ask you a question should you allow it.”
“We are alone,” You remind him, “We should move inside.”
“Please,” Simon pleads, “It won’t take long.”
You pause your steps. The cool night air settles around you as you wait for Simon to ask his question.
“Why did you never marry?” Simon demands; his eyes blazing with the need to know. “I know you had proposals; Lady Danbury even told me so.”
“There was never anyone good enough,” You confess, fisting your hands in the skirts of your dress to keep yourself from reaching out for him. “I tried. I really tried, but I always found myself thinking of you or wondering about you. Even though you never wrote, I still fell in love with you.”
Simon inhales sharply; not expecting your confession. You hadn’t expected to be so honest, but your heart was in control of your mouth; your mind taking a backseat on this one. Your heart had yearned after this man since you had learned the very definition of the word ‘love’.
“Why did you never write?” You ask, finally verbalising the question that had plagued your mind since the moment he had left.
He remains silent, so you repeat your question with a firmer voice. “Why did you never write, Simon?”
“If I had written to you, I would have come home.”
“Would that have been so bad?”
“I needed to get away, I had to leave. To do that, I had to cut strings with you, or I never would have become the man I am today. I never would have become worthy of you.”
“It is for me to decide whether you are worthy of me, Simon Basset. I have found you worthy of my love since you were ten years old and getting caught hiding a fish in the footmen’s bed if you must know.”
“For that long?” He asks; his voice a mere hoarse gasp as he battles with this new information.
“For that long,” You affirm.
“I always found myself travelling back to you,” Simon admits, “I would be in the furthest corner of the world and my mind would question why you were never by my side. On my last trip, I found myself packing my belongings with you on my mind before I had even made the decision to return home. My father was part of it, I’ll admit. But you… you were the whole reason why I returned to London.”
“What does this mean?” You ask, confused and emotional over the night’s confessions.
“It means I no longer want to travel the world if you are not by my side. It means I want to court you and follow the traditions of society. I have two loves in my life: travel and you.”
“You love me?”
He nods, “I have since I was a teenager.”
“I love you too,” You respond honestly, seeing no reason to lie in a moment like this.
“So,” Simon sighs as your words settle over him like a balm over an open wound, “Shall we do this properly? Courting and the like.”
“I think I would. I think we could start right now,” You whisper, stepping closer to the man who you felt certain was the love of your life.
“Right now?”
You nod you head, smiling widely as you reach for the lapels of his jacket. “I think we could start this very moment with a kiss. What do you think?”
Simon glances from side to side, checking for witnesses, “Only if you promise not to kiss another.”
“I don’t think that would be an issue,” You admit happily, “Kiss me, Simon.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
*******
Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley
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theartofdreaming1 · 3 years
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Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊
As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).
heart
Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.
mind
I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)
soul
Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)
Chapter 22
My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)
He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉
“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗
“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2)  that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)
“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢
It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!
“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...
And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!
This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉
I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh
Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!
“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅
“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh* 
Chapter 23
“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time
“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her
A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄
He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)
Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...
Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)
Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?
“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)
What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)
At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future
Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊
I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show
“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)
Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here
“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable
I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use  their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅
Chapter 24
Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏
I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought.  - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!
It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.
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silkling · 3 years
Text
This is part two of an ask box fic. For part one, click below.
Part 1
———————————————————————————————————
Cody had been expecting to see Blades sitting in front of the TV when he and the others returned. He had not been expecting to see the large bot the team had rescued holding the copter while said copter made a sharp, painful sounding noise. When he, his siblings, and the other three bots had returned to the firehouse, they’d been chatting and teasing Heatwave about his increasing frustration with his difficulty at contacting Optimus. Then when they’d gotten down to the bunker, the three Cybertronians had abruptly stopped talking, before they’d looked concerned and panicked and rushed ahead. The humans had followed as quickly as they could, and the group arrived to see Blades in the large bot’s grasp, making that noise that Cody didn’t know the meaning behind.
The large bot noticed the, first, and a sharp, red gaze snapped to the group. “More younglings, little one? I suppose I should not be surprised, the Rescue Force did tend to match teams within the same age bracket.” he remarked.
Cody didn’t know what a “youngling” was by Cybertronian standards, but to human ears it sounded like the new bot was calling Sigma-17 kids. Or at the very least, younger than adults.
Heatwave clearly didn’t care about what the bot had to say. “You let Blades go!” he snarled, stepping forward and looking ready to tackle the larger bot.
Blades had startled and gone silent when the bigger flyer spoke, but at Heatwave’s words he jumped and pulled himself free, gathering his pedes under him and standing between his team and the larger bot. “Wait!” he protested. “He wasn’t hurting me. I was kinda…collapsing, and he kept me front falling.”
Cody frowned. “Why were you collapsing?”
“He told me something that Optimus should have told us a long time ago. Something very bad.”
“And what was that?” Kade snipped, eyes narrowed.
“I’d be curious to know too.” Dad’s voice came from behind them. Cody turned to see his father stepping out of the elevator. “But first, maybe we should sit down. Something tells me this news isn’t going to be pretty.”
“You are a clever human.” The stranger rumbled. “I believe that would indeed be best.”
Heatwave growled, but nodded stiffly. “This way.”
He led them to the lounge area, where everyone got settled and comfortable. The stranger sat on the floor, Blades and Boulder took the couch, and Dani and Graham sat beside their respective partners. Heatwave sat leaning against the couch, and Kade sat leaning against him. Chase pulled over a Cybertronian sized beanbag Graham and Boulder had made, and Dad squished in next to him. Cody, after a moment of consideration, stepped in and sat in front of the newcomer. The large bot shot him an arched brow, and the human just smiled and waved in response.
“So.” Heatwave grunted. “What’s this news?”
“We’re the last Rescue Bots.” Blades cut in, voice quiet.
Chase was frowning. “That is not entirely news. Optimus implied as much when we asked him about the rest of the Rescue Force. I assume the rest of the Rescue Teams were folded into the Autobot ranks when the War began.”
Boulder frowned. “That would make sense, though I have a hard time believing the others would just….abandon in the oaths of neutrality we all took.”
“They did not.” The stranger cut in. “When the War began, the Rescue Force remained neutral. They aided and rescued mechs from both factions. Megatron offered them the chance to join the Decepticons, and they refused. They wished to hold true to their oaths to serve and protect all who needed it. Megatron did not take kindly to the refusal. In order to make an example of them, and also to remove a faction that would aid his enemies, he destroyed the Rescue Force Headquarters and offlined every Rescue Team there. Survivors of the initial attack, as well as those who were simply not present, were subsequently hunted down and slaughtered.” he said bluntly.
There was dead silence in the bunker, with horror growing palpable in the air.
“Dreadwing.” Blades’s voice was weak. “Maybe that was a bit blunt.” He glanced at his teammates. “I think he’s right. I found a mention of the “end of the Rescue Force” in one of High Tide’s data pads. Plus…remember what Optimus said when he first saw us? “I was not aware Rescue Teams were still active.” That’s what he told us.”
Dreadwing. So that was the stranger’s name. Still, he was more worried about the bots. Boulder looked horrified and increasingly sick. Heatwave looked stunned and angry and grief-stricken all at once. Chase looked disbelieving. None of them seemed to be able to protest what they’d been told.
“Dreadwing, is it?” Dad’s voice rose in the silence. “You seem to know a lot about the topic.”
“Any Cybertronian who was alive at the time knows about the Fall of the Rescue Force. It was a great tragedy.”
“That’s why Optimus is so adamant about keeping us here.” Blades whispered. “He knew. He probably thought we’d be in danger if any other bot knew what we are.”
“You would be.” Dreadwing agreed. “If Lord Megatron were to discover your existence, he would send his forces to see you slain, even if it meant razing this island to the ground to do so. Perhaps he would even keep you alive long enough to force Optimus Prime and his team watch your destruction.” He stated, blunt and hard.
Everyone collectively flinched at that, looking sick and horrified at the prospect. Cody could relate. The way Dreadwing discussed such violence and such horrors…it was so casual. He didn’t know what to make of it. The Rescue Bots didn’t speak so bluntly about that sort of thing, but he knew that was due to lack of exposure to that level of violence. Optimus and High Tide were both also very…sanitized, in the way they spoke of the War. It wasn’t necessarily bad that Dreadwing didn’t care to censor himself, but Cody certainly wasn’t used to it. Just the idea of his friends being stolen away and killed to make a point made him sick.
Graham’s voice broke the silence. “Lord Megatron.” he sound, sounding strained. “You called him “Lord Megatron”. I can’t imagine any Autobot calling the leader of their enemy something like “lord”. Which means you’re not an Autobot. You’re a Decepticon.”
There was a second of silence, and then Heatwave surged forward and yanked Cody away from Dreadwing. As one, the Rescue Bots, baring Blades for some reason, lowered the windshields in their chests to let their partners climb in to safety. As for Blades…he just stood, carefully maneuvering Dani out of range of danger and stepping forward before anyone else could do anything. Cody, still dazed and now strapped into Heatwave’s passenger seat, could only watch in confusion.
“Everybody stop and calm down!” The copter snapped, his rotors rattling against his back. The other bots were still, and Dreadwing hadn’t moved from his seat on the floor.
The large bot shifted his gaze to Boulder, or rather, Boulder’s chest where Graham was tucked away. “You are correct.” he said, voice somber. “I am a Decepticon. Or rather, I was. It was Megatron himself who gave me the wound that nearly offlined me.” He paused. “I am afraid I am still teaching myself to shed the loyalty that once bound me to him. I spent many millennia calling him my Lord, and it is a habit that is very difficult to break.” He tilted his head. “Regardless, I assure you I have no desire to return to the Decepticons. I would be destroyed if I were to return.”
That seemed to calm the bots down, and Dani frowned from where Blades had stashed her. “You knew, didn’t you partner?”
Blades sighed. “I suspected.” he admitted. “I read in the data pads that Optimus left for us that after the fall of Vos, most Seekers joined the Deceptions. Dreadwing is a Seeker. I put the pieces together.”
Dreadwing bristled at the mention of “Vos”, though Cody didn’t know what that was. “Vos was destroyed and razed to the ground by Autobot forces, little flyer.” he rumbled. “Seekers did not join the Autobots when the War began because most of those who did were the same who had spent generations abusing and ostracizing any and all flight-frames.” he said bluntly. “It is why most flyers joined the Deceptions. They did not wish to be treated as lesser simply because of a different vehicle mode.”
Dani blinked. “Huh. So bigots exist on all planets, then.” she sighed. “The War…are you saying it started as a social revolution?”
“Just so.” Dreadwing nodded at her. “In the beginning, it was not Optimus Prime who led the Autobots. It was his predecessor, a mech called Sentinel. Sentinel was backed by the Senate. The same Senate that had created laws to force mechs to live only by the function of their frame types, and the same Senate that allowed flight-frames to be treated as filth. When Megatron rose up initially, it was to fight for justice and put an end to the caste system.”
This was news to all the humans. They’d heard about the War, of course, but hearing about how it started and why it had began put new context on things.
“The Senate refused to listen, and thus the War began. Megatron initially led as non-violently as possible, but then any who harbored even slight anti-Senate mentalities began to be culled by Autobot Enforcers. Flyers were confined to the ground by force when not in Vos, and in Vos they were not permitted to leave the city.” The Seeker continued. “What started as a fight for equality turned into Decepticons fighting for their right simply to live. And then the Senate was assassinated, and Sentinel destroyed, and Optimus Prime took his place. By then, it was too late for things to return to peace. Too many Decepticons feared they would be killed for the crime of wanting a better life and fighting for it, and too many Autobots were bitter and angry towards the chaos the Decepticon had wrought. And so, the War continued.” he sighed.
There was silence for a long moment, and the Rescue Bots finally returned to their previous positions, though they didn’t let the humans out just yet. Blades sat on the couch, and Dani shifted over to perch on his shoulder. Everyone present was silent for a moment, taking in what they had been told. This…changed things. Certainly, the Decepticons had done horrible things. The fact that they had slaughtered the Rescue Bots was a prime example. But to learn why they had risen and where they had come from…it put a lot into perspective.
“Blades.” Dani spoke up. “You’re a flyer. Did you run into any of that sort of thing Dreadwing was talking about, before your stasis nap?” she asked.
Blades sputtered. “Well, no.” he seemed embarrassed. “You know I wasn’t always a flyer. I was a ground-frame, on Cybertron. Sure, I’d heard about the anti-flyer and anti-Seeker stuff but I never experienced it. Dreadwing is telling the truth, though. Cybertron…didn’t have the best social system. I did know about the civil unrest, thought it hadn’t grown to a revolution quite yet the last time I was on Cybertron.” he said, sheepish.
Before one of the humans could ask for an elaboration, Dreadwing was straightening up. “Youngling. You mean to tell me you were able to shift from a ground-frame to a flight-frame by scanning a new vehicle mode?”
Blades paused. “Yes?”
Dreadwing was quiet, before uttering what Cody was very sure was a curse. “You do realize that is an extraordinarily rare ability? Even triple changers are more common than that.”
“Really?” Blades, and even all the other bots, seemed stunned by this revelation.
“Yes.” Dreadwing was frowning. “Most Cybertronian t-cogs will only allow for scanning and transformation into a vehicle mode that is compatible with your root mode. To be able to change from a grounder to a flyer by simply scanning a new vehicle mode…it speaks of a highly malleable and adaptable base frame type. The kind one expects from the tales of the Shifters of old.”
That made the Bots perk up, and Cody made a note to ask about that later. For now, he opted to stay quiet and let the Cybertronians figure this out. And it seemed his family had the same idea. Even Kade, for once.
“Are you saying I’m a Shifter?” Blades seemed frantic at the idea.
“No.” Dreadwing shook his head. “But perhaps you have coding descended from them.” He sighed. “Your ability, little one, is one I have only ever heard of on Cybertron. Many would be jealous of you. I know many flyers would not give up their flight for anything, but I know of many more who would have wanted your ability desperately in order to change to a ground-frame and escape the derision.”
Blades blinked, then looked down. “Oh.” he whispered.
Heatwave growled. “Look, it’s all well and good that we’ve figured this out, but now what? You were a Decepticon! You could hurt us or someone else on the island!”
Dreadwing looked unimpressed. “I have no intentions of doing any such thing, though I will leave if you prefer.”
“But won’t Megatron kill you?” Boulder asked.
“He will try. I will simply have to avoid him.”
“Then why not join the Autobots?” Chase asked.
The Seeker’s expression went dark. “No. While Optimus Prime is honorable, the Autobots have not always been such. I have lost too much to their regime to submit myself to the brand, even if it is different now.”
No one seemed to know what to say to that. After a long moment, the humans were finally let out of the cabs of their respective partners, and Cody saw an odd look in his Dad’s eye.
“Hoe about this, then.” Dad said. “We don’t feel right about sending you off where you might be killed. You don’t want to fight the Autobots, you don’t want to fight for the Decepticons. Am I right so far?”
Dreadwing simply bowed his head.
“Do you even want to fight in the War at all, anymore?”
Dreadwing paused. “The Decepticons committed a crime which I must put right. But other than that, no.” There was a pause. “Even with my end goal, it is not the Decepticons at large I wish to see defeated. It is only one mech among their ranks.”
Dad hummed slowly, then nodded. “I’m guessing you’re not ready to tell us the details, so I won’t even ask.” he said. “Here’s what I propose: you stay here on Griffin Rock. You don’t let yourself be seen by the humans here, we do have a cover to maintain after all. You can think and plan your next steps here. That lets us keep an eye on you, and keeps our minds at ease that you’re not out there running for your life from a tyrant. You just can’t destroy anything or hurt anyone or cause trouble.”
Cody was surprised by the offer, and clearly Dreadwing was too. What did his Dad see in this large bot that was making him take a chance like this? Cody wasn’t against it, but it was a little unusual.
Dreadwing seemed to think over the offer, before he nodded. “I will accept your terms.”
Dad relaxed, and before Kade could protest he waved his children along. “Now come on, everyone. It’s late and we humans need our rest.” he said. “Kade, not here. We can discuss this more later. Let’s go, everyone.”
Cody hopped off Heatwave’s knee, and followed his siblings and father to the lift. The last thing he saw before the doors closed was the Rescue Bots turning to their newest addition, and heard the start of a question before the doors shutting cut it off.
“So what else do you know that Optimus isn’t-“
——————————
Everything came to a head a week after Dreadwing had settled into the bunker. The Seeker had taken over one back corner of the large room, converting it into a small space for himself. None of the other bots or humans had raised a fuss at that. But Kade was getting increasingly agitated. It was clear that he didn’t understand why Blades and his team were so calm about letting a Decepticon live peacefully with them. Personally, the copter bot attributed that to the fact that the firefighter was human, so he probably didn’t understand the Cybertronian cultural or societal intricacies that had allowed the five bots to come to an understanding. That day, Kade had been particularly snarly. Even Boulder was starting to get put off by it.
They had gathered in the bunker. Blades was watching TV with Dreadwing and Chase, trying to explain the allure of his favorite show to the two bots. Boulder was painting, and Heatwave was on his little sparring platform. The humans had come down in time to see Dreadwing pinch one of Blade’s finials when the little copter bot’s rotors had straightened and extended, threatening to start spinning right there on his back due to his excitement. It had pulled Blades back to himself, and he’d sheepishly tucked his rotors back along his spinal strut while shooting the older mech an apologetic grin.
To a Cybertronian, such a gesture from an older mech to a youngling would not have raised any attention. The gentle tweak hadn’t even hurt his sensitive finials. But to a human, especially one who didn’t have or understand the context of Cybertronian culture, the gesture and lack of reaction from the bots could easily be misunderstood.
So really, Blades wasn’t surprised that Kade had finally snapped. As soon as he’d seen the interaction, he’d roared a demand to know what was going on, questioning how the bots could live with someone who had been part of the same team that had wiped out all the other Rescue Bots. That was when Chief Burns had sighed and suggested they all get settled in the lounge to talk again. They had, taking up the same positions as the previous time, though this time Boulder also dragged over a large beanbag for himself and Graham, while Dani perched on Blade’s shoulder and Dreadwing took the free spot on the couch. Which was where they were now.
“Alright.” Kade spat. “So I’m not getting something here, obviously. Why are you four so comfortable around him? He literally admitted that he used to be a Decepticon! The same guys that destroyed your Rescue Force!”
“But he wasn’t there.” Blades chimed in. “We talked when you went to bed that night. He joined the ‘Cons after the Autobots destroyed Vos, which happened after the fall of the Rescue Force.”
“And that changes anything?” Kade sputtered.
“It changes everything.” Heatwave grunted. “He wasn’t part of the group that destroyed the Rescue Force. And even though he joined them later, it wasn’t to inflict violence, it was in response to his home and people being destroyed. That may be hard to understand, based on what I know of your human culture, but for us Cybertronians that’s enough.”
Kade crossed his arms, scowling fiercely. “Fine. I guess I can accept that, even if I don’t get it. What I don’t get is why you’d defect.” he directed the last part at Dreadwing. “You hinted last time we talked that you served Megatron for thousands and thousands of years, and joined him because he was fighting for a just cause, one you believed in. What changed?”
Dreadwing frowned, staring hard at the human. “You are correct, Skyquake and I did originally join Megatron because we believed him to be honorable and just.” he tilted his head. “As the War progressed and left Cybertron, Megatron gradually became more…mad. However, we still followed him because we had sworn an oath of loyalty, and to break that oath would be dishonorable.” he rumbled. “And we did not fully agree with the Autobots either, even after Optimus Prime took command.”
“Hold on.” Graham cut in. “Skyquake?”
Dreadwing blinked, and something odd entered his gaze. Blades felt the flash of grief in his EM afield before it abruptly cut off. “Yes. Skyquake. He was my brother. We were split spark twins.”
“I thought you said you guys don’t have families like humans!” Kade said to Heatwave, eyes narrowed.
The fire truck scowled. “We don’t! Not usually! There’s only really one exception, and that’s so rare I didn’t think it mattered!”
“Two exceptions.” Blades intervened quickly. “There’s actually two exceptions, two ways for Cybertronians to have siblings.”
Looks were directed at him, and he squirmed under the attention. Slag, he hadn’t meant to say that. They’d want to know how he knew and that was something he wanted to keep to himself. It was his burden to bare.
Dreadwing sensed his discomfort, cutting in before the questions could start and drawing the attention back to himself. “Yes. The first exception is that of split spark twins.” He glanced at the humans. “We Cybertronians are not created like you organics. On Cybertron, our source of life is called the Well of All Sparks. It is where all sparks are created, and where all sparks return upon deactivation.”
“A spark is like…your soul, right? It’s what gives you guys life and makes you who you are.” Dani questioned.
Dreadwing dipped his helm towards her. “Indeed. When a new Cybertronian comes into be, their spark is created in the Well. It goes through several layers of the Well’s energy, the spark refining and becoming more defined as it progresses to the edge of the Well from the center. Often, the sparks will not maintain their form in this process, and their energy will dissipate and return to the Well.” Noting the human’s looks, he shook his head. “The spark has no life or sentience at that time, it is merely a small collection of energy. It is if the spark holds its form past the final layer of shaping that it gains sentience and life. At that point, the energy of the Well pulls resources from Cybertron itself to create a protoform, a physical body, around the spark. Then, the protoform is pushed from the Well, and thus a new Cybertronian is created.” the Seeker explained.
“That doesn’t explain how you guys can have siblings.” Graham pointed out.
Dreadwing dipped his head. “Twins like myself are a rarity. They occur when, just before a protoform is formed around the spark, a surge of energy from the Well causes the spark to split into two. When that happens, most sparks to not survive and dissipate. If they do survive, the Well forms two protoforms around the two halves. The two halves of the spark can function on their own, and are fully formed in their own right, but due to the fact they were one a singular spark those two halves are forever bound.” he explained it carefully.
“Two halves, one whole.” Graham said, eyes lighting up with understanding.
Dreadwing nodded. “Yes. That is how split spark twins are created. Due to the bond, twins are very close to one another. A spark bond is a precious thing, little human.” His optics went distant, and Blades’s own spark ached with painful remembrance. “Through a spark bond, you are always and forever aware of the one who you share the bond with. You know what they feel, how they think, you know them in every way that they in turn know you. You can talk and communicate using the bond, and it can never be detected or listened in on. Distance can dampen a bond, and the further one gets from those they are bonded to the more muted it becomes. At one point, the bond becomes too muted to talk in words, and you can share only base thoughts and emotions.” he rumbled. “But even so, the bond persists, and it allows you to know your bonded is still living.”
“And…this Skyquake. He’s your twin? Where is he?” Kade asked.
“Gone.” Dreadwing said, his EM field flaring with that sharp agony, and even the humans could hear the grief in his tone. “Offlined before I even arrived on Earth.”
“How did it happen?” Chief asked, voice somber.
Dreadwing stared at him for a long moment, and Blades could see the grief in the angle at which he held his wings, even if he had reigned in his EM field. “Centuries ago, Megatron stationed my brother here in stasis in order to guard over Deception energon deposits. I was aware of his mission, but I was sent to far off star systems to fight in the War.” he sighed. “Recently, Skyquake was awoken, and in an ensuing confrontation with the Autobots he was slain by Optimus Prime and his scout.”
Blades flinched, optics wide. Bumblebee had killed Dreadwing’s twin? He supposed he couldn’t really judge a situation in which he didn’t have all the information, but he still had a hard time imagining the friendly yellow bit he knew actually killing someone else.
“How did you survive?” he blurted out. Looks were directed to him again, confused, but Dreadwing understood.
“Distance.” he rumbled. “I was so far away at from my brother at the time of his death that the bond was too strained for me to even feel his strongest emotions. I could only barely tell he was still living, and even then only when I focused on the link between our shared spark.” His gaze went sad. “I felt his death. The surge of energy that came from the bond breaking did reach me, but by the time it did it had had to travel so great a distance that it had dulled too much to overwhelm and gutter out my own spark. All I felt was a very faint sting. It didn’t even hurt to feel him perish.” he said, and he sounded bitter at it.
Blades could understand. “I’m sorry.” he said honestly.
Dreadwing sighed. “He died an honorable death. For that much, I am grateful.”
Kade cleared his throat, frowning. “Okay.” he said carefully. “But that doesn’t explain why you left the ‘Cons. Shouldn’t you have more reason to stay with the, if the Autobots killed your twin?”
Dreadwing growled lowly here. “No.” he denied. “The Autobots gave my brother a good death, a death I know Skyquake would not have been ashamed of. For all I resent the Autobots from taking my brother from me, it is War, and I cannot find fault in them removing an enemy from the battlefield.” He turned a sharp look to Kade. “It was the Starscream, however, who is a Decepticon, who desecrated my brother’s rest by defiling his corpse and turning him into a Terrorcon.”
Blades inhaled sharply, rage clouding his processor. He seethed, his rotors clamping tight to his spinal strut, his optics going dark and angry, and his hands curling into fists. Dani was the only one to notice, and she didn’t want to draw attention to him just yet.
“Terrorcon? Cody asked.
“A zombie.” Boulder offered, looking sick. Actually, all the bots look sick. “Or the closest equivalent to it there is for Cybertronians.”
And now the humans all looked sick. “Oh.” Kade said. “That’s why you left.”
“Yes.” Dreadwing said darkly. “I learned the truth, and when I attempted to avenge my bother Megatron attempted to destroy me. It did not matter to him that Starscream had attempted to assassinate and betray him on countless occasions. He sought my death in order to protect a known traitor.” he growled. “Starscream turned my brother into something twisted and abhorrent. That is why I left.” he finished.
“I’m surprised you didn’t rip his spark out.” Blades hissed. Stunned gazes turned to the copter, and everyone was alarmed to see just how angry he looked. “I’d have tried to, in your place.”
The only one who wasn’t surprised was Dreadwing. “I did try, and I was almost killed for it. I will avenge Skyquake one day, little one. But for now, calm yourself.”
Blades actually snarled at that. His rotors rattled aggressively, the smaller ones in his pedes whirling to life with a loud buzzing, and his engine all but roared with fury. “Just the idea of someone doing that-!” he cut himself off, snarling again. Dreadwing was quick to pick Dani off the youngling’s shoulder and set her down.
“Blades.” he snapped. The others were too frozen in shock at the sight of the usually bubbly copter so aggressive.
“No!” Blades snapped. “If someone did that to ‘Aid, or Groove, or Streetwise, or Hot Spot, or any of them, I’d rip them apart myself!”
Dreadwing narrowed his optics, his processor working quickly. There was no reason for the youngling to get so upset at the idea of a spark sibling being so badly defiled, no reason for him to take it so personally. And those names…
“You are gestalt, aren’t you, little one?”
That was enough to snap Blades out of his angry haze, and his optics shot wide. Fear swamped his field, and his rotors abruptly silenced and clamped back against his spine while the rotors in his pedes cut off with a sharp grinding noise. “What?”
“Given your reaction, and those names you said….it is the only conclusion that makes sense.”
“Wait, Blades…you’re part of a gestalt?” Boulder asked, his own optics blown wide.
“That…would explain your reaction.” Chase offered hesitantly.
“Blades.” Heatwave prompted at the copter’s continued silence.
“Uh, hello? Clueless humans here!” Dani called. “Blades, put me back up. Also, what’s a gestalt?”
The youngling bent down, allowing his partner to climb her way back up to his shoulder before he sat up. He sagged, looking defeated,
“A gestalt is the other way Cybertronians can have siblings.” he said quietly. “It happens in the Well. Most of the time, the Well creates on spark at a time. Creating a living spark is a complex process, so it can’t afford to create too many at once. Every once in a while though, the Well has an excess of energy, undetectable to any technology. When that happens, it creates multiple sparks at once. If all those sparks survive to the edge of the Well, then the excess energy pulls them together into one large, massive spark. Many sparks, becoming one. They remain combined until the energy stabilizes, and then split into the original number again and that’s when the protoforms are created around the sparks.” He sighed. “When that happens, all the bots in that group are linked. They were created by the Well together, and they were merged together by the Well to bind their sparks. That’s a gestalt. Because of the spark merge that occurred in the Well, gestalt can actually merge themselves again outside of it. They can push together their sparks and processors and very beings to become a singular bot. Gestalt frames are even adapted to that they can physically combine, each member becoming a different body part, in order to form the body of a new, larger mech while their sparks combine to form the mech’s own spark. Many, becoming one.” Blades looked down. “My brothers and I are that. We can combine to form Defensor. I’m the arm.” he said weakly.
——————————
Part 3
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Heather
A one shot based on Conan Gray's Heather song.
First attempt at writing since an early teenager so apologies if it's a little disjointed. And thank you @boldlyanxious for your encouragement to take the plunge and actually get this idea out my head!
Also to @zambie-trashart @loveswifi for being amazing and connecting people ❤️
Masterlist
..................................................................................
Damian and Jon were a dynamic duo. Best friends. Super sons since they were “forced together” Damian taking the lead with Jon following shortly behind. Damian’s brothers liked to tease him, that Jon was like a puppy dog, with his “adoring eyes” only for Damian. ‘Tt’ thought Damian. Jon was his acquaintance and team mate of course he would follow him. They were a Super Son duo team; it was them against the world.
Jon and Damian were in the training room when Batman and Wonder Woman wandered with an unknown person. 
“Robin, Superboy, this is Ladybug, Wonder Woman’s apprentice.” Batman said when Damian and Jon had paused from training. “She will be joining you on your next recon mission. She has just rejoined the world from being in Themyscira for a while. Working with you two will help her readjust to working with the Justice League.”
Jon, rushing up to the newly introduced Ladybug “Hi there, I’m Superboy! WOw you’ve been to Themyscira? What is it like?? Do you have super powers! We have a briefing on the mission in an hour, have you been shown around the base yet?”
Damian turned to Batman and hissed “Can we trust her? We don’t know her at all. She will be a liability” not impressed by the surprise new element and glaring at her when he got the chance. 
“Robin” growled Batman, “She can be trusted, you will work with her nicely”.
Wonder Woman observed the situation with mirth while Ladybug just looked overwhelmed with the conflicting energy pulsing between everyone.
Diana’s apprentice, “Ladybug” was a similar age to them and after that initial mission she ended up joining them on other missions. 
Damian wasn’t happy with this initially, but he slowly started to warm to her. Ladybug held secret identities in high regard and never tried to “uncover” his or Jon’s, she took missions seriously, far more than Jon, and was apt at strategizing and working with the bare minimum. She didn’t demand their attention, monopolise Jon or try to be best friends with them. She needed work on her fighting technique outside the suit and had trust issues too, but eventually she grew on Damian. It helped she listened to his critique and responded accordingly as well as took any opportunity to train especially with him and Jon. Compared to others Damian and Jon could have been paired with, she was adequate.
Jon welcomed her too quickly from Damian’s point of view, but he followed Damian’s lead for the most part when socialising with her, though always friendly didn’t reveal too many secrets unintentionally. On the positive, Jon had ‘finally learnt’ some etiquette with others. Jon didn’t drape his arm over her shoulder or continually try to initiate his tactile friendship with her like he had with him. Damian would rather not scare Ladybug off with Jon’s annoying need to hang off people. After the last mission when paired with a Green Lantern, he’d rather work with her than be paired with someone else, she was tolerable at least.  
….....................................................................
Damian had been noticing a shift occurring in his best friend over the last year or so. At first, he was finally learning how to tone down his tactility with their friendship. Damian was pleased with the result as Jon was finally growing up, though he did miss the warmth of Jon’s arm over him occasionally or the enthusiastic hugs when they met up, especially when it was just the pair of them. He would never admit it out loud, but the hugs were something he never thought he would miss. He missed Jon lean his head on his shoulder when they watched films together. The sleepovers had subtly reduced too. That Damian really did miss. At least Jon’s social etiquette had improved though.  
Well, that was Damians originally though, more recently he had noticed Jon was slowly losing his newly gained etiquette with Ladybug. His tactility was starting to return around her, and it was very unbecoming. Damian had sworn Jon had finally been trained out of that, what was worse though, was Ladybug started to respond in subtle tactility too. Not as extreme as Jon’s and was, a hand on his shoulder, a 'la bise’ when greeting, all within socially acceptable etiquette, but it should be frowned on. They were professionals. She was encouraging Jon’s behaviour to return. Damian did note that it seemed only with her though, he couldn’t make that out. Part of him wanted it to return with him too or only him maybe. 
….........................................................................
Damian was sulking down in the Batcave when his “idiotic” brothers found him.
Upon seeing Damian growling at the computer searching through a case “What’s up little D? I thought you usually patrol with Jon tonight” echod around the cave. Damian glared at Dick “He cancelled. Jon said he is training Ladybug this evening”.
Jason whistled “So he finally got over his crush on you and moved on to Ladybug huh!”
Tim replied “Kon says he doesn’t shut up about her at home.” putting on a ‘high pitched voice Tim continued “‘Oh, what blue eyes she has’ ‘Oh, how strong she is’ ‘how pretty her smile is’”
Damian turned his glare to his other brothers. “Tt, Drake stop with that infuriating voice. Todd, Jon does not have a crush on me! That is ridiculous! He is training with Ladybug to improve her fighting skills and strength. She is overly cautious when in her suit with those without super strength therefore Jon is the perfect candidate. And Drake you are being ridiculous. If Jon and I mean IF he likes her it should be for her hero professionalism not for her looks! Tt'' rolling his eyes at the absurdity of the situation.
“Oh please! Jon has been flirting with you for years and not got anywhere. Ladybug turns up and responds to his flirting of course he’ll move on and want to spend time with her. He is using the training as an excuse to be close with her ALONE. If he really wanted to train, he’d have invited you too for feedback.” Jason snarked back. 
That got Damian to pause for a second, though still scowling at his siblings. ‘Why hadn’t he invited him along to help train. He was always up for training and was happy that Ladybug had started to get Jon to consider training more seriously… wait, what if Todd was right and that wasn’t what Jon was after…. And Jon flirting with him... when did he do that???’
“Please tell me, you knew Jon was flirting with you right! That you were ignoring his advances due to being uninterested and didn’t want to hurt his feelings more than you were. Don’t say that you are pulling a Bruce and being dense on the emotion spectrum” supplied Tim. 
“Jon has never flirted with me Todd! Drake! He is my best friend that is all and being a good partner to Ladybug” spat out Damian and looked as if he would reach for his katana any moment now. 
Dick taking pity on Damian, stepped in before any maiming occurred and the conversation got any more heated. “Little D, you do realise that there are other methods of flirting other than the ones we typically witness at Gala’s where people ‘thrusting’ themselves on to us. That there are different languages of love? Jon’s most obvious ones are spending time, touch… I’d agree with Jay and Timmy. Jon did have a crush on you with him following you around all the time, even at his own inconvenience. His constant touch and being near you. The puppy dog eyes which he only gave you. You must have noticed this. And this had started to decrease before Ladybug’s arrival. I’m betting he got fed up with waiting for you to notice him and started noticing others. Ladybug has just kick jumped his next crush, and I’m guessing, and I do mean I’m guessing, but based on the facts and observations she returns his feelings.” Dick then turned and grabbed Tim and Jason and started drag them to change for patrol, “We’ll leave you to process”, frowning at Tim and putting a hand over Jason’s mouth when they looked like they wanted to say something more.
 
Post patrol Damian went to do research in his room on his ‘secret laptop’, he did not trust Tim not to try and hack into his known tech. Damian looked up “flirting techniques”, language of “love”, then “how to tell if someone is flirting with you” “how to tell if you like or love someone” and “how to interpret your own feelings”. Dread built in his stomach. 
When Damian did fall asleep it was not fitful slumber at all. 
 
 
I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater
You said it looked better on me than it did you
Only if you knew how much I liked you
But I watch your eyes as she
Walks by
What a sight for sore eyes
Brighter than the blue sky
She's got you mesmerised while I die
 
It was at the Justice Leagues winter party; Jon was wrestling Damian into an old Christmas jumper of his. “There! See. It looks fab on you. Actually Dames, I’m pretty sure you wear it better than I did'' Jon stated with a cheeky grin. Damian “Tt, the jumper is hideous” fighting a subtle blush by looking away with Jon being so close. “C’mon Dames. It’s Christmas. The jumpers aren’t meant to be ‘tasteful’ and whatever. It's meant to be....” Jon tailed off. Damian looked back at Jon to follow his line of sight. Ladybug had entered the room with Diana. Damian finally got what his brothers meant with “puppy dog eyes” Jon’s whole face softened as he smiled and waved her over. Damian’s stomach clenched. 
 
Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester
But you like her better
Wish I were Heather
 
Jon greeted Ladybug with a kiss on her cheek, “M you made it! But where’s your jumper?!”. Ladybug replied with a smile “I said I would be here Jon.” then uncharacteristically nervously stated “I wasn’t sure about the jumpers though. It was so open ended” before going into a ranting “Did you mean thick ones, or thin ones, sparkley, tasteful, ugly! Urgh! AND you didn’t respond to my messages to help!”
Damian felt the girl was a whiplash of emotions at times. Jon laughed kindly while semi leaning on Damian though put his hand on Ladybug’s shoulder “Calm down M, here take mine. I brought lots with me as I knew Dames would potentially kick up a fuss. His is the fifth one he tried on”
Jon took his jumper off and handed it to Ladybug. As soon as she had it on Jon fussed over her “We need to have you looking perfect! You pull this jumper off amazingly” causing Ladybug to sport a faint blush.  
Damian felt sick. It hit him. Jon liked Ladybug. Jon knew Ladybug’s identity. Jon had liked him, but he only was realising now that he liked him back, but it was too late. Jon was moving on. And Damian couldn’t even blame him. Ladybug was objectively pretty, but she was more. She was a good hero, not just a vigilante but a hero. He’d seen her on missions, and she cared about others, civilians, her team and even criminals and villains she took done with force but strange care. It made sense that Jon would move on with her.
 
Watch as she stands with her, holding your hand
Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder
But how could I hate her, she's such an angel
But then again, kinda wish she were dead as she
Walks by
What a sight for sore eyes
Brighter than the blue sky
She's got you mesmerised while I die
 
From there Damian witnessed Ladybug holding Jon’s hand as he dragged her around introducing her to other members of the league she’d yet to meet. Jon draping his arm over her shoulder, while they held conversations. ‘Just like he used to do with me’ Damian’s brain supplied. 
“Hey Brat, how you holding up? You’re looking pretty glum here without Jon and the others keeping you company” Tim surprisingly snuck up on Damian. “Tt, I’m fine Drake. Jon is introducing Ladybug to everyone and ensuring her first party isn’t unpleasant.” 
“That doesn’t explain why you aren’t there with them” 
Damian looked at Drake with narrow eyes trying to figure out what he was digging for. 
“Look Damian. I’m probably not the best here” 
“Tt, I’d agree to that” snapped Damian rolling his eyes
“Oi Brat! I meant comfort, support and what not. That’s Dick’s department really” Tim sighed “Damian! Look I’m offering a listening ear, as unfortunately for the pair of us you are my brother, and you look like you need to talk to someone.”
Damian looked at Drake for a moment and contemplated what he wanted to do, other than grab his katana and maim someone. Preferably Drake or... maybe Ladybug, which was a surprising thought. 
“I want to hate her, but I can’t as she is a literal angel, and she makes Jon happy.” Damian quietly disclosed to Tim before wandering off to avoid the bombardment of questions that potentially could follow. ‘At least Drake is better than Grayson or Todd to admit that too, his form of torment is less overt’.  
 
Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester
But you like her better
I wish I were Heather
Oh, I wish I were Heather
Oh, oh, wish I were Heather
 
Damian now wasn’t sure whether wondering off from Drake was a good idea after all. He had sneaked out of the main hall where the party was to try and find somewhere quiet to untangle his increasingly chaotic thoughts. Unluckily for him though, he’d stumbled upon Jon showing Ladybug the stars from the gallery room. Before Damian could react by letting them know of his existence or get away, Damain witnessed something he really wished he could unsee. Jon gently lifted Ladybug’s chin and slowly kissed her. He had given her every chance to move away if she had wanted too but she hadn’t.
The nausea and pain returned by the time Damian slipped away from them. 
Jon liked Ladybug; Ladybug liked Jon. They were kissing. 
‘I wish it was me instead’ ‘I like Jon’ ‘Jon likes Ladybug’ ‘I missed my chance’ whizzed around Damians head. 
Damian thoughts spiralled from there. He reviewed his interactions with Jon. He could bash his head against the wall with his obliviousness. Damian took a deep breath and schooled his icy façade back into place. He re-joined the party like he hadn’t witnessed Jon kissing Ladybug and his heart was finally admitting to hurting. 
 
When Jon joined him later, Damian kept his hurt locked up with Jon bounced with happiness in front of him. 
“I asked M, I mean Ladybug to be my girlfriend. I was so worried she’d reject me, but she didn’t! She said Yes Dames! M said yes. To me Dames, she actually likes me! Oh gods I didn’t imagine it did I”
Pushing down the hurt, Damian replied “Tt, tonight is real Jon, and she would be an idiot to reject you” ‘like me’ left unspoken.
 
Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester
But you like her better
Wish I were
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seokmingiggles · 3 years
Text
comfortable.
@gloryofroses19 requested on 201219: “Would you write a fluff Min Yoongi one shot where he’s crushing on Jimin and Taehyung’s fellow 95er best friend who’s birthday is 11 days before Taehyung’s (aka today), so she and Yoongi get together when he find her taking a break on a balcony at a surprise birthday party they threw for her (lying to her that it was for Taehyung) even though they know she hates the idea of being the center/doesn’t like making a big deal about her birthday?”
Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader
Genre: fluff, friends to lovers(?), first confessions.
1.96k words
Warnings: some alcohol consumption.
At your surprise birthday party, you find yourself to be more enamoured by the musician accompanying you on your balcony than the happenings inside. Alternatively, where Yoongi has been waiting for the opportune moment to confess to you, unknowing that his feelings are mutual.
A/N: First of all, thank you for being my first request! I hope I’ve done your concept justice :) There are a couple of small details that I haven’t included, but the overall gist should be the same. I hope you enjoy it! And happy birthday if it’s anyone’s birthday who may be reading!
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•• "I can't believe you two! This looks amazing. Thank you," Jimin beamed as he spun around to look at the array of decorations you and Taehyung had embellished his apartment with earlier that afternoon.
For Jimin's 25th birthday, you wanted to do something special. The boy was the biggest libra you knew—loving to host parties and social gatherings. While parties weren't typically your cup of tea, you and Taehyung knew that Jimin would appreciate the sentiment.
"I think we make a pretty good team, right, (Y/N)-ie?" Taehyung smiled back at Jimin's praise, patting your shoulder as he referred to you.
Only a couple of months later, you found yourself in a similar situation.
"Surprise!" A chorus of voices called out as you stepped into your apartment, Taehyung nudging you through the doorway as you were momentarily stunned.
"What's all this?" You forced a smile and directed the question to your tall friend beside you, slipping your shoes off and proceeding to remove your outerwear. You could already feel your face beginning to heat at all of the gazes directed at you.
Taehyung chortled, "It's for you, obviously. Happy birthday, (Y/N)-ie."
You had just been out for your annual birthday dinner with Taehyung and Jimin, your two best friends for many years. You should have suspected something when the elder suddenly stood from across the table shortly before he finished his meal, claiming he got an emergency text from his brother and had to leave right away. Really, the blond just wanted to make sure everything at your place was properly prepared before your arrival. Jimin picked up some last-minute snacks and drinks on his way to your apartment where everyone else was waiting patiently for your appearance.
You scanned the room around you. Where you'd normally have your comfortable, minimalist furnishings occupying the room, you found yourself standing before what had to be nearly a dozen people. You knew everyone here, that wasn't an issue. Instead, the matter was you simply didn't find joy in parties—even your own birthday party—despite the kind gesture from your two best friends who you knew put this gathering together out of love.
Your eyes landed on Seokjin, who was standing at your kitchen island having a conversation with Moonbyul and Sana; the two girls were laughing at something the eldest had said. Hoseok, Namjoon, and Nayeon, three you weren't completely familiar with, went to greet Taehyung behind you after wishing you a happy birthday. Mingyu and Jungkook were sitting on the sofa, each already with a drink in their hands. Yoongi sat in the armchair next to them; the youngest was beckoning you over to join them. As you were still a bit bewildered by the noise of the party, Jimin collected your hand and guided you to join him and the other three in the seating area.
Jimin took a seat on the floor after stealing a couch cushion to sit on, wanting to be close to the array of snacks organized on your coffee table. You figured it was because he had left the restaurant before he finished the last bits of his dinner (which Taehyung had no problem volunteering his stomach to handle the few remaining bites). You squished onto the end of the couch next to Mingyu, declining the offer of a drink that the boy held out to you as you sat down. Jimin accepted the drink on your behalf and the three gave a brief toast to you.
You eyed Yoongi for a moment. You knew him as a like-minded individual to yourself, in the sense that he also wasn't too fond of parties. Maybe that's why he was occupied with something on his phone. You noticed the slight pink tinge to his cheeks, likely from the beer, you considered, spotting the can on the side table next to him.
In reality, Yoongi was forcing himself to keep his eyes on his phone because he's sure he'd otherwise be caught admiring you. He already took in the pretty blush on the apples of your cheeks and the way you styled your hair nicely for your dinner with Jimin and Taehyung.
Yoongi didn't let himself have crushes very often, yet, he was unmistakably drawn to you. With your airy laughter and bright eyes and the most beautiful smile; how you'd appear lively even though he knew you were uncomfortable in party settings. Words couldn't encompass the effect you had on Yoongi. He was tongue-tied; smitten like a schoolboy having his first love.
He wanted to do something about his feelings for you, but he didn't know where to begin. Yoongi first met you through Taehyung when you were all back in college. He didn't know what to expect when the younger boy asked if he could bring his friend to Yoongi's piano recital later that spring but agreed nonetheless. Apparently, you were fond of classical music.
What was initially only some small talk at the end of the recital became a new acquaintance between the two of you. Sharing your favourite musicians and songs over coffee or the occasional study session after class happened naturally. Yoongi cherished the times you spent together during your studies. It was only natural for him to become disappointed when you drifted apart after graduation.
He thought that his feelings for you would subside from the distance created, but here he was in your presence once again, and it was like nothing had changed in his heart. He gulped down the last of his beer in an attempt to calm his senses.
Some playful conversation with your friends and a drink in you later, you found the heat radiating off your face becoming unbearable and decided to excuse yourself for a moment onto your balcony to regain your senses. For a one-bedroom apartment in the city, the balcony wasn't anything special to you. You typically didn't use it at all during the colder months of November to March, instead truly only utilizing it for the early summer sunrises that you had a front-row seat to.
Yoongi figured he must have done a poor job concealing his concern for you when Jungkook asked if he had too much to drink.
Yoongi just shook his head, muttering that he was fine as he watched you close the balcony door behind you.
"You should just tell her, hyung," Jimin had one hand on his full tummy and the other clutching a drink half-full, still sat on the floor. "Otherwise, nothing's going to keep happening between you two."
Yoongi tried to act like he was none-the-wiser of what the blond was talking about, only stopping his act when Jungkook interjected, "The least you could do is check if she's alright out there. Or maybe bring her a coat."
Yoongi wondered since when has Jungkook thought of good ideas? Especially after having a couple of drinks. The kid was more profound than he let on.
The nervous musician stood from the chair he'd been glued to thus far, wiping his clammy hands onto his jean-clad-thighs as he neared the balcony door after collecting your jacket. He told himself it was silly to be so anxious; he was only checking in on you.
Yoongi cleared his throat to prepare his voice from faltering, "Hey, are you feeling alright?"
You turned away from the cityscape to see him stepping outside, eyeing the bit of warm air escaping from inside as it became visible, mixing with the cool night atmosphere. The closed sliding door nicely muffled the overlapping voices and music from inside.
You nodded as Yoongi approached you, "I was getting a little bit stuffy inside. I'm good now, though. Crowds can wear me out after a while, especially in that small of a space."
"I'm the same way. I should've told those two to hold off on inviting so many people," the boy admitted. He briefly stood behind you to help you slip on the outerwear before taking a spot next to you by the railing.
"No, it's okay. I know how Taehyung and Jimin can get carried away when they plan something together. They were just excited and went overboard. Besides," you looked over your shoulder to peer past the door, "it looks like they're enjoying themselves, so it's all worth it."
The boy turned to look where your gaze was directed at, although he first admired the way your lips were tilted upwards as you watched your best friends dancing around in the living room with some of the other guests. Currently, Taehyung was trying to convince Seokjin to join him on the makeshift dance-floor between your furniture.
"This was supposed to be for you, though, (Y/N). It means nothing if you're not comfortable. If you're not enjoying yourself."
You turned your attention back to Yoongi, considering his point and then saying, "I'm comfortable. I feel comfortable out here with you, where it's much quieter other than the street noises below. You make me feel comfortable, Yoongi."
Despite the chilly December temperature, Yoongi's face never felt more warmed.
"You make me feel comfortable too, (Y/N)," he whispered. He saw your expression change as he spoke; you now looked genuinely content than how you were acting inside.
You maintained eye contact with the boy in front of you, taking in every feature on his face; the way his eyes looked in the moonlight, the small roundness of his nose, his cheekbones slightly flushed, his lips.
You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't find Min Yoongi attractive. From the moment you first saw him, you had been entranced by his performance on the piano; and it grew every minute after. Beginning to learn more about him as a person just made your admiration grow stronger.
"Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but could I kiss you?"
Your eyes widened for a split second as you processed the words leaving Yoongi's mouth, but you found yourself nodding before you could verbalize your thoughts.
Yoongi brought his hand gently to the side of your face, grazing your hair out of the way before he leaned in to connect your lips. His hand was cold from standing outside, but his lips were hot; you relished in the feeling of moving your mouth against his. He tasted slightly of beer but smelled of vanilla and musk.
You finally parted but kept your bodies close. You noticed how your hand made its way to his arm while his other one was delicately resting on your waist.
"Was that okay?" Yoongi timidly asked, not removing his gaze from you, your noses barely brushing.
"That was wonderful, Yoongi. The best birthday present," you smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his torso.
"I can think of something better," he began, taking in the cute tilt to your head as you questioned his thoughts. "How about I take you out for dinner later this week. Does Saturday night work for you?"
You hummed like you were in deep thought, earning a light chuckle from the boy in your arms. "Tomorrow? I'll agree to dinner on one condition."
"And what might that be?"
You smoothed your thumb against his side, suddenly taking an interest in the collar of his jacket, "Could you kiss me again on Saturday?"
Now Yoongi was the one to pretend to be in profound consideration, finally replying, "I guess you'll have to wait to find out. But the odds seem likely. I like you a lot, (Y/N)."
"Good," you giggled, pulling him closer into your embrace, "I like you too. Otherwise, that whole interaction would have been uncomfortable."
Yoongi squeezed you back and smiled at your words, already wanting to kiss you once more without waiting for Saturday.
••
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tuagonia · 3 years
Text
mistletoe - adam du mortain x f! detective
Pairing: Adam du Mortain x f!detective Summary: The detective catches an unsuspecting Adam under the mistletoe during the division’s holiday party.  Rating: G/T (to be sure).Pretty tame, just fluff. Warning: alcohol mention. Word Count: 2.3k  Note: I just really really wanted to write this scene that cropped up in my head during a  f u n  bout of insomnia. I’d like to think this takes place teetering on the edge right before the deep romance sweeps these two fools away. Anyway i used this fic as a way to get over my fear of writing for twc and to get to know my detective... before i launch into the other ideas i have.
It’s not that she’s drunk.
No. Not drunk. 
Happy, most definitely, and loquacious. More than the usual amount of conversation that he’s used to. And more laughter. 
Definitely more laughter. 
It’s an unrefined, rough, pitched-at-the-end sound he’s grown used to (fond of?) over the last year. 
Where the more uncouth the subject... the more untamed it becomes, and fighting the stiff edges of his mouth to remain in place becomes an active task.
There’s something so unsuspecting about it too, like how everything concerning her has been up to now. 
Olivia dances with Felix and Nate, and his oldest friend attempts to teach her how to move with the steps that feel like a lifetime ago. Where her shoulders, ankles, hips twist and she turns on the spot.
She sways with the motions of days gone past, as if she’s caught time in her hands — the elixir to it in her mug of wine clasped firmly in her grip — and Nate praises her. 
Adam didn’t catch the name, he didn’t care for it six decades ago and he doesn’t think he’ll bother remembering it now. But he’s certain it’s something as ridiculous sounding as it looks... if she weren’t doing it surprising justice.
When she spins in Felix’s arms, the silver, sparkling discs of her dress catch in the station’s white light and he’s dazzled...more than he usually already is.
No. Not drunk.
Just happy.
In the handful of instances she stops by him during her social rounds, she asks if he wants anything -- a refill of the uninspiring wine? -- and his responses are short. Yes. No. Good. Hmm. And when he doesn’t have the words he manages a slight shake of his head or a passive shrug.
Too distracted by the smile on her face, the mischief he can see twinkling behind her eyes. Sometimes, he can believe it. That she was a troublemaker, up to no good with too much time on her hands, and not this...woman...this decorous facade of pencil skirts, unscuffed heels, and neatly ironed blouses.
He can hear it in the deep, unearthed tone she takes when she lands a passing, unassuming, coquettish comment.
The reason he keeps his answers mono-syllabic.
He watches as she hovers over the snack table, where the food has undoubtedly gone cold, compiling a paper plate of random assortments and grabbing a tin of soda. And when he can no longer see her, he follows the sound of her heels out of the main floor towards the entrance -- barely visible from the wall he’s been hugging all night.
Olivia places the plate on the officer’s desk currently on graveyard duty. He's been longingly listening to and watching the party taking place just a few steps away. But he thanks the detective kindly, playfully clinks tin against mug of wine. 
She meets his eye on the way back -- brief, ever so brief -- before turning her gaze downward.
“You should come,” she said, directing her attention to the rest of the group. She avoided his stare, almost always avoiding his stare when it came to matters of bypassing his jurisdiction. But flitted reflexively to him, and then swivelled back to Nate and Felix (briefly over Mason), and she repeated. “All of you. You’re practically honourary members of the division.”
And although she didn’t say it to him, Adam knows (hopes?) she expected him to answer the invitation. 
Earlier in the evening (much earlier because how long is this going to go on for?), Nate asks him if he’s enjoying himself and Adam muddles together a gruff answer.
His response, with the words “work commitment” hardly audible, prompts bark-like laughter from the second-in-command and claps him on the shoulder before heading back towards the crowd. 
At the end of the night, which finally arrives right when Adam decides he can’t take another rendition of the tracklist that’s been on loop for the past four hours, he stays behind to help the detective clean up.
He sends the rest of the unit home, much to Mason’s relief and much to Felix’s displeasure, and volunteers to make sure the detective catches her cab and gets home safely. 
Or, at least, that’s what he tells himself after Felix winks at him, corralled out of the station by Nate.
And then they’re alone... save for the officer who’s gone on his break. 
She moves about space, clearing paper cups and forgotten plates of food in a large garbage bag. And she talks, and talks, and talks. 
Adam loses track of what exactly, he’s just too busy listening to the quality of her voice. A little hoarse after all the chatting over the music and enthusiastic laughter. It gives it a new edge, one he could grow to like -- the sudden deep, tender quality of it. 
Definitely not drunk as she launches into a spiel about something or other Nate taught her last week.
She tends to do this, jabber on about absolutely nothing in particular when it’s just the two of them. And although he prefers silence, he welcomes it. Because sometimes she’s not actually talking to him, instead using the stoic agent’s still presence to bounce ideas off of. 
Not like he minds. 
He’ll be whatever she needs him to be.
Adam tenses, unaware of where the thought could have surfaced out of so easily. He shocks himself out of his trance, out of following the detective around the room with soft, measured steps. Out of the unconscious non-committal noises he punctuates breaks in her speech with. 
He stops just short of the doorway of the kitchenette. 
Olivia turns to face him after dumping a number of coffee cups in the sink. She quirks an eyebrow, wiping her hands in a tea towel before casting it aside. Her mouth opens, but whatever witty remark she has ready dies in her throat.
Adam can’t decipher the zoetrope of emotions that flicker then disappear, hiding and lurking behind a wily smile. Her mouth is the colour of wild berries, purples and reds, and the crisp jasmine notes in her perfume remind him of a frosty mid-afternoon -- low winter sun in his eyes as he wades through a forest.
He can’t look right at her.
Gleaming winks of silver, a peek of white teeth, and a twinkle behind a dark curtain of hair.
“What?” 
He can scarcely recognise his voice, mostly a husky and unexpected croak. 
A full view of pearly teeth and the stretch of Mondeuse Blanche shiraz-coloured lips.
Adam almost misses the throw-away manner she points a finger up in the space in between them. For a fraction of a second, he’s distracted from the sudden kick of her heart and flickers his gaze to where she’s directing him.
Obnoxious oval-shaped gold leaves, thickly crowded plastic branches, and pearly-coloured fake berries hover in the space he’s decidedly placed between them. His stomach lurches in immediate recognition of the artificial plant.
“Mistletoe,” she chuckles an airy sort of sound. Different from all the crass, rough gleeful noises she made all night. 
A sound, maybe, she might wield against his sanity?
Adam’s gone rigid, the heat he’s been staving off all night makes a mockery of him, only egged on by the tugging of her lips when he glances back down at her. 
She steps closer and he can’t react fast enough, genetic mutations damned under her vexatious gaze. Her heart thumps a little heavier, a chaotically determined sound he can’t fend off. 
His own heart starts up that racket he’s grown to call reckless. 
“I heard,” she begins, so close now he can see the little scar on her nose from an old piercing. Tannin, oak, and jasmines -- the sparkling and sweet scent of violet from her lipstick, “that it’s bad luck...to refuse a kiss under the mistletoe.”
The click of the ‘k’ and the hiss of the ‘s’ in that word hanging so heavy in the air, the breath of its remnants brush his cheek. Faintly, his mind wanders between two realms. One of old wives tales and superstitions where a kiss is required for every berry in the bunch and, the second, how, if it weren’t for those heels, where would that breath have landed instead?
Her sly grin is tickled by his lack of response, the stiffness creeping into his muscles and his conflicted expression.
“Commanding Agent, do you -- maybe -- want to help me…” she begins, another step closer and this time he doesn't think he wants to move, “fight off any unnecessary misfortunes?”
Adam doesn’t recognise himself. He doesn’t know where it comes from, or how he’s sanctioned the movement of his body. It’s minimal, but to Olivia, who has spent the last year fighting off the hunger from the nearly nonexistent mementoes, it’s colossal. 
The smug smile on her face nearly slips.
It’s the tiniest, faintest, barely discernible half-nod as his gaze refuses to leave the curve of her lower lip. Fuller, rounder... he’s thought of the seam of her mouth longer than he’d like to dwell on.
She moves forward and there are no thoughts just the drumming in his chest that pounds a deafening beat. Her hand finds his first, a comfort from the heat roaring inside him, and he responds by tracing the lines of her palms with jittery fingertips. 
Olivia shivers and why does that thrill him? He wonders how long until she decides to put him out of his misery.
Please. Please. Please. The thumping against his ribcage wants to meet the erratic pulse of hers.
Roused by his response, her other hand so warm and soft draws a curious path up his arm, over the swell of his bicep and past his shoulder before it hesitates to fully press at the back of his neck where he knows she can feel fevered skin. 
It takes her an eternity, staring up at him with hooded eyes, dark fluttering eyelashes almost touching the tops of her cheeks. And he’d wait until whatever comes after that eternity.
This is the closest she’s ever been to him and he can’t help but revere the details he once took for granted. 
Olivia rises and the hand behind his neck cautiously coaxes him to meet her. 
And then, right as he thinks the world beneath his feet as he knows it will be thrown off its axis, she tilts her head a fraction and the hot press of her mouth meets his blushing cheek instead.
She lingers and everything amplifies. 
She is a dizzying bottle of Chianti, left out in the sun too long, and warming him all the way down with each indulgent sip.
A field of blooming shrubs of jasmines.
Warm, brisk, spring morning sun.
He hears her deeply inhale, and does he have the same effect on her like she does on him?
His heightened senses register the moment she parts and moves away, suddenly cold and left with the weight of the cream of her lipstick.
Her touch is deliberate, soaking up the feel of his skin, the fine hairs at his nape, under her gliding palms -- and she settles back on her heels.
The imprint of her lips remains on his cheek, willing it to singe him -- mark him -- so he never has to forget what they feel like. The pressure of her mouth, the moment her breath shuddered. 
Olivia makes to touch his cheek, to wipe away all evidence with the sweep of her thumb, but Adam stops her. He catches her wrist with reflexes she’ll never get used to.
He closes his eyes and he tunes in to the demanding call of his heart, thundering, thundering, thundering. And it won’t still. 
Just a moment longer. 
Is what it would ask.
Just a moment longer, so he can memorise the feel of her mark on his skin -- of the instance she cherished him, made room for him, during a fleeting blip that will be her life. 
Olivia moves again, fighting against the gentle strength of his hand, and she rubs the pad of her thumb once, twice, three times. Until the smudge of her affection is reduced to a memory.
She smiles, unlike the smiles she shared earlier. There is no arrogance, no teasing, no playful ridicule. 
She smiles -- with those lips that have touched him.
A sharp ringing echoes in the tiny kitchenette and, like he’s waking from a deep sleep, he blinks away the haze of their bewitchment. 
As if nothing happened, Olivia digs into her purse, sources her mobile and answers. The conversation is brief, he doesn’t follow any of it, still reeling from her magnetism.
“My cab’s outside,” she says when she hangs up. 
Still paralyzed, Olivia meets his eye and grins, before she drops her gaze to the floor.
She shakes her head and releases a small, anxious laugh. She touches his arm when she moves past him, out of the kitchenette, and heads for the exit.
He watches her leave, listening to the light click-clack of heels, still shaking her head and-- he practically hears the smile in her voice when she calls out behind her. 
“Happy holidays, Commanding Agent du Mortain.”
--
Note II: Yeah, it’s The Twist. Nate was teaching Felix and Olivia the twist....because I said so and because i hc N being really into the 60s/70s music scene....long legs.....in....flared....jeans. So many typos. But if I didn’t post it when I did I was never going to post it.
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mcheang · 4 years
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The critic
Sometimes restaurant owners are aware there is a critic among them, but they don’t know his identity. Sometimes they are unaware they are being visited at all. This is for @edeniz001
Meet Alain Ego. A youthful young man admitted to Ms Bustier’s class as an exchange student from Provence.
Here’s what you need to know about Alain. He is smart, responsible, but he’s dull. He is a wallflower. His appearance is unremarkable, his voice is softer than Nathaniel’s. And his social life is generally shy. His hobby is writing stories and taking photographs.
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His deskmate is Ivan.
Predictably, after class was let out for lunch, Alain was surrounded by his class. Well, most of them.
Chloe and by extension Sabrina; could not be bothered to waste her time with a wallflower.
Marinette and Alya introduced themselves as the class president and Vice President. They warmly asked him to come to them if he needed help.
Nathaniel invited him to meet Marc since they both seemed to love writing.
Lila had never been to the French countryside but was inclined to boast about the Tuscan landscape. She seemed annoyed that Alain did not ask her for more details and that the rest of the class were paying more attention to the new student than to her.
Thankfully Alain would only be here for one semester. That was enough time for like...what, 25 akumas to show up?
Hope the new kid was fast. Dupont tends to be an akuma hotspot.
And was it ever...
The majority of the akumas were from Caline’s class. And that was remarkable considering how they had already been akumas. What is up with that?
Are they an emotional class?
Why is Hawkmoth out for them?
Granted some akumatizations happen outside school. But Alain happens to be there thanks to being invited to class activities.
Part of the blame belongs to Chloe.
A real bully that one. Alain can understand why the principal would be cowed by a corrupt mayor. For a so-called hero, he was a coward.
But Alain has noticed some students standing up to Chloe.
Namely the class president and her Vice President.
And yet for some strange reason, instead of telling Chloe off for being rude and mean, they just brush her off and redirect everyone’s attention.
Alain shyly asked Marinette why she lets Chloe get away with that.
Marinette: Because Ms Bustier told us to be good examples and forgive Chloe.
Alya: it’s why Chloe likes her so much. She lets Chloe get away with everything and tries to get her to be nice.
Alain’s eyes were wide at such a scandal.
When Alain’s witnessed his first akuma, he was at art class, making a photo collage of the students.
Let’s just say Chloe didn’t take criticism well at her first attempt at fashion design. Let’s also just say there’s a reason she stole Marinette’s design instead of relying on her mother’s genes.
Point is, Fashion Critic could make her harsh criticism a reality.
During that time, Alain had run for cover.
Unsurprisingly, Alya had run in the opposite direction.
Frightened, Alain asked for help as to where to run to.
Alya: There is no safe house or bunker. Akumas usually blow those up. Here in Paris, just run for cover.
Alain: any ideas?
Alya: not really. I don’t hide.
Alain: ....
Nino: don’t worry, dude. I know where the guys like to hide. Follow me. I’ll take him, Alya.
As they were running, Alain pointed out it should have been Alya leading him to safety.
Nino: she would have delegated it to me anyway. That girl loves to get her scoop.
Alain frowned in disapproval but said nothing. But perhaps he could try to talk to Alya later.
He did, and even Marinette took his side, when they both said she should stop running after akumas.
Alya: the public needs to know!
Alain: can’t you just post the location and powers and physical description? Why do you need to record the whole thing?
Alya; how else will my blog be popular?
Marinette: it’s still not safe, Alya.
Alya: oh relax, it’s not like the Teachers are complaining.
Ok, so Ms Bustier not only lets bullies run rampant without correcting their behavior, she also does not stop dangerous habits.
Curious about the students, Alain decides to be nosy. He visits the bakery and tries their delicious breads. He talks about animals with Mr Cesaire. He explored Juleka’s boathouse. He even babysitted Chris.
One day, Alain just so happens to visit the embassy building where Mrs Rossi works, at a time when she would be leaving for home.
Alain: Hello, excuse me, are you Mrs Rossi?
Mrs Rossi: Yes. And you are?
Alain: I’m Alain. Lila’s classmate. I thought I recognised you from her photos.
Mrs Rossi: oh. How nice to meet one of Lila’s friends. But I’ve been so busy with work, I barely have the time to spare.
Alain: I understand. But it’s nice to see you include Lila in your work.
Mrs Rossi: excuse me?
Alain: you know...you brought her to Achu last year to help out Prince Ali.
Mrs Rossi: I never went to Achu.
Alain: um...Lila was gone for months and FaceTimed us from there.
Mrs Rossi: when did this happen exactly?
Alain nervously tells her.
Mrs Rossi: Lila has been lying to all of us, it seems. She told me the school was shut down because of akuma attacks.
Alain: what? Akumas last only a day. The school has been disrupted by them, yes. But everything goes back to normal the next day. Didn’t you try calling the principal?
Mrs Rossi is stiff and she thanks Alain. She needs time to think. More than that, she wants another person’s opinion and confirmation about akumas before she decides on what else to do.
The next morning, Lila is at school. She makes no reference to Alain meeting her Mother. In fact she prefers to avoid him because he is so annoying. He rarely asks about her adventures and the questions are obviously and disinterestedly polite. What teenager isn’t excited by Jagged Stone?
In the middle of class, Lila is asked to the principal’s office. She returns fuming, with Mrs Rossi and the principal by her side.
Mrs Rossi ordered her Daughter. “Tell them the truth Lila.”
Lila is forced to confess her lies. In addition, for forging her mother’s signature and truancy, she is hereby expelled.
An akuma arrived to target her. As Caline rushed Lila away from the akuma, Marinette actually ran out and used her purse as a makeshift butterfly net. Since she wasn’t feeling negative (actually she felt pretty good about Lila getting exposed), the akuma was just fluttering around in her purse until Tikki threw a macaroon on it and proceeded to sit on it.
Alya is already posting on her blog about it, hopeful Ladybug will arrive to cleanse the akuma.
Marinette rushes out to the roof to wait for her there.
In the aftermath of Lila’s exposure, the class is certainly feeling wounded and guilty.
Caline is trying to advise them to forgive Lila who probably felt shy of their accomplishments.
Alain: Um, she asked me to carry her school bag because her arm was supposed to be sore from planting trees.
His words were a spark.
Kim: I bought her lunch.
Alya: I posted false information on my blog. Ok, technically I didn’t fact check. But Lila was not innocent!
Rose: I donated my summer job cash on her fake donation! (She proceeds to sob)
Caline: but she has already been punished, shouldn’t we extend our friendship to her now that she is alone?
Alain: She didn’t look all that repentant if you ask me. Didn’t you see her smiling at the akuma?
Adrien: Lila wouldn’t have hesitated to hurt us.
Alix: what a psycho.
Caline: that is enough. I want you all to forgive Lila and try to reach out a hand in friendship.
Ivan: But she’s dangerous
Max: and clearly not well if she keeps on lying that she can call Ladybug right after admitting she lied about knowing her.
Alain mutters to Ivan, “Wanna bet that Ms Bustier becomes Lila’s puppet if she actually does this?”
The next morning, Caline actually tries to order the class to say one nice thing about Lila and to write her a nice letter. Never mind that she clearly heard Alya report that Lila was exiled from Paris after Chat Noir admitted she had been working with Oniichan to endanger Ladybug. Apparently he had somehow heard how Lila was smiling at the akuma and suspected she was in league with the terrorist.
Alain so couldn’t wait for the term to end.
When it finally did, he gladly reported to the school board his investigation on the akuma class.
He blames Caline mostly for her redundant perspective that people need to forgive bullies and liars instead of educating them and correcting their behavior. Like seriously, how else would the victims get justice? She also lacks a sense of responsibility in that she refuses to correct Alya’s lack of self-preservation.
His advice: fire her or suspend her indefinitely, send her to get proper training. Get the class a strict and just teacher with a sense of fairness.
Once his job was done, Alain sighed and emptied his bag of textbooks. He could really go for some wine.
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screamxqueenx94 · 3 years
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For Your Protection/ Unexpected- Mitch Rapp
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A/N: It's been about a year and a half after the incident in Italy, after Mitch saved the world from complete destruction. It's in danger again with Russia wanting to attack the U.S. President and his family. Mitch is assigned to protect the President's daughter and executing the Russian assassin going after the President and his family, however Mitch may be in over his head with the First Daughter who will do anything for a night of partying to cope with a secret her family has been hiding for years.
Warnings: depictions of smoking
Pairings: Mitch Rapp x OC!Violet Monroe (eventually) 
POV: Third Person
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Mitch was use to walking down this hallway. He did it at least once a week to get his new assignment whenever the old one was completed. His sneakers hitting the redwood floors towards Irene's office was a sound he knew all too well. He knocked on the big wooden doors leading into her office and waited to be welcomed in. He opened the door and seen both Hurley and Irene waiting for him. That was new, it was usually only Irene. This had to be a big deal if Hurley was there too.
"Take a seat, Mitch." Irene commanded, gesturing to the empty seat next to Hurley. 
He sits and waits for what's next. 
"We have learned that the Russian Prime Minister has planned an attack on the President and his family. The secret service has the President, his wife and son covered, but they need someone a little more...experienced, to protect his daughter." Irene informs him.
"And why is that?" Mitch asks, head leaning slightly to the side as he sat in a comfortable slouch, legs open in the padded arm chair facing her desk. 
"She doesn't sit still. Likes to run off and cause problems for the secret service agents and doesn't exactly do things that keep her father's reputation straight." She explained.
"Which is why I recommended you for the job, Rapp. Because you're just so good with people." Hurley added sarcastically, smirking at Mitch. 
"I'm guessing I can't say no, right?" Mitch asked, assuming correctly.
"No one would be more perfect for keeping her safe and under control than you, Mitch..." Irene insists "... She needs someone's who's tough and won't take shit, and that's you." She continues, pointing directly at him on the last word before sitting down in her big, black leather chair.
He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, then inhales sharply as he looks back at Irene. 
"What do I need to know about her?" He asks reluctantly.
She slides the file across the desk to him. "Violet Monroe. Age twenty-three. Youngest winner of Miss Teen U.S.A at the age of 13. Was Cheer Captain at Phillips Academy her senior year. Graduated from Stanford University top of her class with a Masters degree in Political Science. President of the Alpha Chi Omega sorority. She's the eldest of the Monroe children by seven years. Not only is she his only daughter, but she is her father's pride and joy." Irene informs him.
As she speaks, he's looking at her file and sees her photo, which looks like a social media profile picture, paperclipped to some pages. He's taken aback by how attractive she is, especially her crystal blue eyes. She had beautiful full lips, high, defined cheekbones, ivory skin that seemed damn near flawless. He had not seen a woman this beautiful in his eyes since Katrina…
Before he got too distracted, he closed the file and gave Irene his full attention. "Seems like she's her father's perfect angel. You sure you got the right person who does the partying?" 
"We're sure. She's just good at making herself seem otherwise." Irene insists.
"Don't let the pretty ones fool you, kid. You've certainly learned that by now." Hurley smirks at him again, making Mitch look his way. Irene looks at her watch, then to Mitch. "Get going, we have a car waiting for you to take you to the White House to get aquainted with the family before they send you and her off." 
Mitch pushes himself out of the chair by the armrests and heads towards door. As he reaches for the knob, Irene calls back to him, "Mitch…". He looks at her, waiting for her to speak again.
"Don't let her on social media either, she likes to tag her locations in her posts." She tells him.
He just nods and heads to the car outside waiting for him. 
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When he arrives to the White House, he's stopped by a guard at the entrance gate. 
"Name?" The guard asks.
"Mitch Rapp." Mitch answers. 
"State your business." The guard commands.
"I'm the new Bodyguard for the First Daughter." He informs.
The guard makes a dry chuckle, shaking his head as he types on his small computer. He waits a moment and gets a notification and turns back his attention to Mitch. "Good luck, kid. You're gonna need it." 
He pushes a button, a buzzer goes off and the gate opens for Mitch. He drives through and follows the directions of where a second guard leads him to. He parks where all the other black SUVs and a limousine are and is met by two secret service agents. One is a tall man with a buzzcut and the other is blonde with a military style haircut. The agent with the buzzcut speaks into the small microphone on his watch. 
He listens to his earpiece, then both agents lead him into the White House towards the Oval Office. The blonde agent with a military style haircut opens the door and announces Mitch's arrival. He steps to the side and let's Mitch inside with the buzzcut agent right behind him. He could see Violet sitting on the couch with her back turned towards him until her and the rest of the family look towards him when his entrance is announced.
There on the couch, facing the door was the President, who had medium length gray hair, crystal blue eyes and a tan that looks like he's lived on the beach his whole life. Next to him was his wife, Amelia who was a thin woman with long brown hair, fair skin, full lips and big, brown eyes. On his other side was his son, who looked like his father, but with green eyes. A kind looking family with kind smiles. All of them making Mitch feel very underdressed in his old jeans and black shirt with the sleeves pushed up just above his elbow. President Monroe gets up from the couch he was sitting on and offers his hand out to Mitch for a handshake. 
"Mr. Rapp." He greets.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. President." Mitch greets back. 
"Please, call me Richard." He insists with a friendly smile. "I appreciate the service you've done for us, Mitch. You are a true hero." He praises, resting a hand on Mitch's shoulder. 
"Just doing my job, sir." 
President Monroe turns to look back at his family and secret service staff, smiling and exclaims "Look at that. A hero and humble. You don't see that everyday!" He turns back to Mitch and squeezes his shoulder. 
"Mitch, let me introduce you to my beautiful family." He puts his arm over Mitch's shoulders and guides him towards where his family was standing and directs him towards the couch he was sitting on before Mitch arrived.
"This is my lovely wife, Amelia." He introduces. Mitch shakes her hand and she smiles kindly at him.
"My talented son, Elliot." Elliot stands and shakes Mitch's hand with his other hand in the pocket of his khakis.
He then turns Mitch towards the other couch, facing Violet. "And my gorgeous daughter, Violet." 
She stands up, she's much shorter than Mitch would've expected. She comes up to his chin with her heels on. Her photo in her file didn't do her justice. In his mind, she was even more beautiful in person. Her blue eyes looking even brighter, her skin looking softer than silk. Her curled, long light blonde hair shaping her face perfectly. 
She put out her hand with perfectly manicured candy red nails out to shake his with a sickenly sweet smile on her face. He shook her hand and half smiled at her. 
"Well, I won't take up any more of your time Mr. Rapp." Richard spoke up, clamping his hands together, making both Mitch and Violet look his way. 
"Amelia, Elliot, we must get going to Atlanta. Violet, we will meet you in New York once things blow over." He continues. 
Violet just nods. The secret service agents lead Mitch and Violet out of the white house with some of her Louis Vuitton luggage in hand and help Mitch load them into the trunk next to his old duffle bag that he takes on every trip. The agents leave, but not before telling him good luck and both snickering. Mitch rolls his eyes and opens the passenger door for her. She smiles at him, then hops in gracefully as she holds her nude shoulder bag close to her body. He closes the door and rushes over to the driver side. 
He starts up the car and leaves the White House property. Once they're a good distance from the White House, she finally speaks up. "Are we out of view of the White House now?" 
He checks his rear view mirror, then answers without looking directly at her, still facing forward. "Yes ma'am." 
She lets out a sigh of relief and takes off her lace front wig, surprising Mitch with a head of long, mint green hair and making him do a double take. She kicks off her nude four inch heels and takes off the jacket of her black and gray tweed skirt suit, unties the bow on the collar of her blouse and unfastens the first few buttons, exposing a bit of her chest tattoo. She pulls the hairtie out of her hair and runs her fingers through her hair a few times then rolls down her window and flips open the flap on her purse and pulls out a pack of American Spirit cigarettes and a gold Zippo lighter.
She puts a cigerette to her lips and lights it. She takes a long drag and leans her head back as she blows it out, flicking the ashes out the window. He just looks at her with a raised eyebrow. She looks back at him, not understanding why he's even staring. 
"What?" She asks with a shrug. 
He quickly turns his attention back to the road and just shakes his head.
"Just didn't expect that is all." He answered.
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@mrs-mitch-rapp93 @coconutstars @javalavax @lavenderrosegoddess @hufflepuff-foodie @okaybestfriend @bxchanansbarnes @life-is-obrien @daisyxbuckley @porg-damneron @ohhhhmybrien @stiles-o-dylan24 @maliatatevevo @confuscita @blueraindrops
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arlingtonpark · 3 years
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SNK 134 Review
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Thank you. Thank you so much. This means so much to me.
(Ofc this chapter is called “In the Depths of Despair.”)
Sigh.
So, I guess I have to have an opinion on this chapter now.
For a while there, it looked like SNK had made the right choice.
Eren was the asshole. He was insubordinate, ungrateful, uncooperative, and above all else, a fucking sociopath. Cool, got it. One and done.
But then his friends started talking about how it was really their fault he’s doing this.
Ok, that’s fine. They’re desperate to stop him, so they’re just saying whatever they think will ingratiate themselves with Eren and help talk him down. Dynamics like that are very common in abusive relationships.
Now we arrive at this chapter, where even random people are saying Eren is a victim *as he is murdering them!*
It is patently absurd that Eren is having a warranted or natural or reasonable reaction to what he’s been through.
If Eren were a better person, he would have known that mass murder against the Eldians was wrong because mass murder is wrong. Unfortunately, Eren is a fundamentally amoral person. The only moral compass he has to guide him is a childish belief in “you hit me, so I get to hit you.”
He’s said as much on multiple occasions. He has said, “If someone tries to take my freedom away, I will take their freedom away.”
Instead of being the better man and ending the killing, his solution was to kill more people than them, faster and on a larger scale.
I think the clearest picture of Eren’s worldview was given when he spoke to Historia. He said the only way to end the cycle of violence was to destroy the whole world.
That is Eren’s deeply felt belief: there can be no peace or coexistence; the only way to win is to be the last man standing.
This mindset is so natural to him that he will even kill his friends for opposing him.
He told them that they were free to oppose him, and he was free to fight back. That’s how he justifies killing them to himself. They have the choice to oppose him, so if he fights back and kills them, it’s their fault they died, not his, because they could have made the choice to flee and live, but decided to stand and die.
In reality, the alliance is fulfilling a moral duty to protect life, while Eren is an asshole who has killed billions.
The series wasn’t kind to Eren about that. He was depicted as a cheering child as he murdered everyone. The Rumbling was not white washed either. The take away was obviously that Eren’s decision was not the product of a sound mind.
And yet.
Now I have to wonder if the series is seriously trying to say the Rumbling embodies some form of justice.
There are multiple layers to this issue, so let’s start at the surface level.
So in what is obviously a ham-fisted attempt by Isayama to lecture the audience about morality, a Random Commander Guy filibusters about the ills cast by the Marleyans on the Eldians and how this has rebounded back at them.
It is generally considered good writing for characters to get their just desserts. If someone sells drugs to kids, you expect something bad to happen to them. If someone helps a kid cross the street, you expect something good to happen to them.
What’s different between a generic case of just desserts in a story and this chapter in SNK is that the dessert is typically delivered through some nebulous, karmic force, rather than a vengeful twerp with God-like powers.
When the drug dealer’s car blows up, it’s karmic fate, not revenge.
The car doesn’t blow up because one of the kids devoted his life to exacting revenge, it’s because the car just blows up for no reason, or because something completely unrelated to the dealer causes a bomb to be planted in the car, or the dealer brought it on themselves by getting caught up with terrorists.
People may or may not deserve to suffer, but it’s fine to show people suffering if you’re just trying to make a point about how people should act.
Eren’s a different case. For several reasons.
To help untangle why, let’s think about the death penalty.
The death penalty is an example of retributive justice. Put simply, it’s the idea that retribution can be morally just.
The Rumbling is immoral precisely because it is something a supporter of retributive justice would emphatically NOT support.
Most supporters of the death penalty would justify it as an act by a legitimate societal authority. Eren is not that.
Eren is not an authority figure. He does not speak for the Eldian people and has no right to exact this genocide on their behalf. No one made him King of the Eldians. It’s not his place to decide what’s in the Eldian’s best interest.
Also, killing people because “it’s what the scumbag deserves” is usually justified because it’s a sentence for a crime handed down in a legal process.
Rights can be taken away, but not arbitrarily. Transparency is an important part of this. Acts that are a crime are public knowledge, as well as the prescribed punishments. The criminal law is also supposed to apply to everyone equally, not selectively. To say nothing of the law itself being duly enacted by a legitimate governmental authority.
The same principles apply to the process by which a right is taken away. The process must be laid out in a law that was duly enacted by a legitimate government authority, applies to everyone, and is publicly known.
Eren’s process, of *fucking* course, is nothing like this. Eren has no legitimate authority. He’s a Guy With an Opinion who bumbled into attaining absolute power, and now he’s acting on that Opinion.
He not the government punishing a convict. He’s a guy with a gun shooting people he doesn’t like. The Rumbling is not just retribution, it’s just murder.
Commander Guy says that if they knew this would happen, they would have acted differently.
That’s a good point.
Why the fuck do they deserve to die, then?
To some extent, everyone’s worse impulses are kept in check by the knowledge that there will be consequences if they act rashly.
But it’s not just that.
Laws are public knowledge for a reason: it’s fair. If you know your act is a crime and that performing said act will result in a certain punishment, then by committing the act anyway you have tacitly accepted whatever punishment will be meted out.
The moral onus is placed on you.
This is why knowledge that you are committing a crime is necessary to be convicted of a crime.
In principle, the case with the Marleyans is the same. Is it fair to punish someone for an act they did not know would carry that punishment? No.
They may know the act was immoral, but that is not the same thing as knowing it will lead directly to their death.
And needless to say, but you only deserve to be punished for an act if you deserve to be punished for that act. The Marleyans do not deserve to be punished for that act.
There are multiple ways a wrong can be righted. There are punitive ways, in which the perpetrator is harmed outright. There are also restorative ways, in which the victim is compensated for the harm done to them, usually at the expense of the perpetrator.
I have already explained why Eren lacks the authority to pass judgement on the world, and that the process by which he made his decision was completely illegitimate, but it needs to be said that this punishment is totally improper in itself.
Wiping out humanity is purely punitive. To use the obvious analogy, I don’t think any sane person would argue white people deserve to be punished for racism. Supporters of racial justice usually talk about restorative, rather than punitive, forms of justice, like reparations.
The Rumbling does not make the Eldians whole again. It does not restore their trampled dignity. It is purely an act of vengeance.
Casting it as some kind of deserving retribution is crazy.
Oh, and, you know, suffering is bad, so retributive justice is wrong even disregarding everything I just said.
You could theoretically believe life is a miracle, but that people forfeit that right if they act wrongly…it’s not something many people would support.
If Dino!Eren had been depicted as a random force of nature that visited ruination upon humanity, we could have potentially gotten a good story about how hatred leads to no good outcomes. Like how Godzilla is a metaphor for the ills of nuclear weapons.
Instead we get a nihilistic tale about two sides punching each other until one keels over dead. And somehow the one that keels over deserved it.
What makes it nihilistic is that you could easily reverse it. What if right before Eren destroys Fort Salta, aliens invade the Earth and help the Marleyans.
Now the Eldians are on the verge of annihilation and *Eldian* Commander Guy gets his turn to say “Woe is us who surrendered to hate. We deserve this.”
There is no right side or wrong side. No deserving side or innocent side. The Eldians were cheering for genocide the same as the Marleyans. The difference is the Eldians had a God on their side.
The morality of this series is just all over the place.
The Alliance and Eren are equally sinful, but now Eren is an agent of karmic destiny and his victims “deserve it.”
There isn’t much to talk about this chapter besides that.
Armin still hopes to take Eren alive, but good luck with that.
Eren can manifest other titans from his body, which is cool I guess, though it’s pretty clear this power only exists to give the Alliance things to fight.
There were a lot of allusions to parenthood this chapter. The baby and the cliff. Reiner’s mom realizing how shitty she’s been. Historia’s pregnancy. The Commander Guy saying it’s the fault of “us adults.” The numerous shots emphasizing the kids at Fort Salta.
Child abuse is a common theme of SNK. And not just parental abuse, but societal abuse, too. Children are the victims of individual foibles and broader social ills, like racism and police brutality.
The cycle of violence at the heart of the series’ conflict is bad for everyone, but the story emphasizes that it is bad for children in particular. It harms them, and leads to a world that is worse off for them.
If there’s one takeaway from SNK, it’s that we should think of the children. Adults shouldn’t just take care of their kids, they should fix broader social issues, if not for themselves then for the children’s sake.
It’s a fucking insult.
Historia’s pregnancy is all but confirmed here. There’s no way it’s fake. There may have been motive to fake being pregnant, but there is no fucking way she’d have a reason to fake *birth*.
I always leaned towards the pregnancy being real, so that didn’t get to me. What gets me is that Historia is just…there. On Paradis. On the sidelines.
Not only was Historia, who is the only likable female character in this show now, impregnated, she’s also been MIA most the last two story arcs.
I had thought Isayama was saving her for the finale. Surely, Isayama understands that if you sideline a major character for no reason, they have to come into play at some point, I thought. Surely.
Characters are tools; they exist to be used. So use them.
But no, it seems Historia is legit not going to be a thing in this final battle. My dreams of the domineering boss saving the day are dashed.
But what really messes with me is how shafted Historia has been since basically the end of the Uprising Arc.
Historia’s only contribution to the plot after Uprising, but before the pregnancy was making the disastrous decision to make the truth of the world public, which paved the way for Paradis society to become radicalized and back Eren’s coup.
She has done nothing other than that.
Obviously her pregnancy will have thematic importance, but at this point the best Historia stans can hope for is that she’s the main character in the epilogue.
I’ve always assumed the pregnancy was the product of a loving relationship. For all his incompetence with Historia, I was willing to assume Isayama would not force her to carry a forcibly impregnated child to term.
And you know that even if the child is the product of rape, Historia will still have to say she loves and accepts them as her child and will raise them lovingly, with no regard or acknowledgement of the trauma of having to raise a child born out of her being raped.
Because the theme of the story.
All life is a miracle.
All children deserve to be loved.
Even if it was rape.
Except it’s more complicated than that, and I’m terrified to think that Isayama may not understand that.
So for now, I choose to presume that Historia is pregnant because she loves someone, decided to have a family with them, and we’re being led to believe she was raped for shock value.
But arguably more important is what this means for the queer audience.
Historia’s first love interest was another woman.
She’s queer. A lesbian. A dyke. What have you.
Now you’re telling me she either loves a man, or was not only raped, but has to love and accept the child that results from that trauma?
And for what?
So we can end the manga on a speech by Historia moralizing about the value of posterity?
Historia stands at the nexus of two subjects in this manga: the value of posterity and the denigration of queer people.
It is very homophobic of this series to pair a queer character with a dude to affirm a message about the value of children and motherhood.
As if queer people can’t have children.
We seem to be headed down that path.
It didn’t have to be like this.
Queer people can have children through artificial insemination. And artificial insemination is conceivable with Paradis’ current level of technological development.
Isayama is choosing to do this because queer people are not a part of his vision of a world where people, especially children, are able to live free.
That’s very sad, because it shows how empty SNK’s morals are.
So who’s the slave here?
Who here is truly free?
The ones who are free are the ones who aren’t reading Attack on Titan anymore.
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clownattack · 3 years
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Castor - character bio
I’ve been struggling with getting a bio out for Cas for waaaaay too long now, but i feel pretty ok with how it looks currently - i'm going to repost it on my art blog with some drawings of Cas and Hjalle in the future (hopefully). If you want to skip most of the nonsense and just get a feel for her personality, the section under the bio paragraphs is FULL OF POINTS.
links to drawn refs here and here
Longpost under the cut
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✦ Early life in Hjalle:
Being born into the noble family Aran, Castor’s early life consisted mostly of being pampered by the attendants and strict education. Cas was a rowdy kid, and with time, lack of affection and validation from her family served to amplify the trait - she went from occasionally disobedient to full-on antagonistic towards her parents, and the nobility as a whole. She began to sneak out; spending her time outside of the Fort, spying on the guards and trying to bribe knights into taking her on as a page.
When Cas turned nine a sibling came into the picture, and she made it her duty to assure Aster’s upbringing would be better than hers. She poured everything she had into Aster, but soon developed a brash and overbearing streak, unyielding in her focus to teach the meek little sister to stand her ground. Aster became torn between Cas and the parents, who in all fairness, treated her much better than their firstborn. This would remain the case until Castor’s dragon-induced injuries.
In her late teens, Cas was seldom seen in the fort - to everyone's great relief. Her mood was always sour, she gave up on her studies and only seemed to care about Aster and joining the hunting parties. Her parents reached their limit when Castor announced she would not become one of the renowned judges of House Aran - this led to an explosive argument, which concluded with Castor storming out. For the following two years, she lived and worked with rangers tasked with protecting and providing for the town.
It was in those years that Cas acquired her battle prowess and scars, the most prominent being a gift from an especially large and angry dragon. A single swipe of its tail tore Castor’s chest and forearm open, forcing the hunting party to rush her to the fort in (what the hunters expected to be) a futile attempt to get her family to provide medical help for their dying kin. The reception was cold indeed, and if it weren’t for Aster’s hysterics and outrage over her family’s indifference, Cas would have not survived the grievous wounds. The upside to this event was a new high tale to impress people with, and strengthening the bond between two sisters. The downside - Castor was now under her parent’s thumb. They made her accept the position of inquisitor; to make up for the hassle she caused them. Taking up the mantle turned Castor’s world upside down - not only would she have to work in close proximity to her father, but her dreams of being knighted were shattered, as inquisitorial duties stand in stark opposition to virtues of knighthood. As Inquisitor she was tasked with investigating and interrogating for the court - the latter, as Aran tradition had it, was extraordinarily bloody.
 ✦ Vesuvia:
Almost as soon as she arrived, the city sparked something in Cas. This was unexpected to say the least; she was certain the years of gruesome work as inquisitor numbed her to simple joys of life. The sights and sounds of Vesuvia however, made her eager to explore and see how everything ticked - and the more she saw the more she wished to remain in the city. After attending the Masquerade and becoming acquainted with Asra, Cas was prepared to do anything to stay - even if it meant sucking up to the Buffoon count and begging for a job. Lucio proved to be anything but opposed - he’d heard of the “bloody good shows” (pun intended) Castor was infamous for, and was eager to take her off her parents hands. This led to working parallel to the count and his court, but also enabled Cas to dabble in magic under Asra’s tutelage.
This slight betterment of Cas’ situation would not last long however, as The Red Plague took complete hold of the city mere months after she took up her residence in Vesuvia. After perishing, and being brought back by Asra, she very slowly regains certain memories and traits - her sister, love of astronomy, sword skills. She sneaks out, snoops, and is a handful overall; but Asra is happy to see Castor’s “new” self free of bitterness and pain.
After this point, the “game events” take place. I like to imagine Castor braving an amalgam of Nadia and Portia routes, with a fistful (or multiple) of courtier drama. Castor is tasked with an investigation, slowly  but surely unravelling how deep the corruption runs in Vesuvia, and how much of it can be attributed to the courtiers. The conclusion of her story focuses on first facing off against the court, then the Justice Arcana.
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  ✦ Physical appearance
Light olive skin, she picks up a slight tan in Vesuvia.
Dark gray eyes, striking marbling on the iris.
Long girl - 176 cm tall, loves being the “tall friend” (and manhandling people close to her). Being taller than her is taken as an indirect challenge.
She has a rectangular body type, could be described as a “runner’s body”.
Prominent scarring across right forearm and torso, missing right breast.
Tastefully disheveled. Her hair has a constantly windswept quality, and the gray streaks seem to be especially unruly.
Inherited the “Aran silver” (early graying), she tries to ignore it. “The more you hide it, the more it shows”.
Secretly really bothered by the many similarities to her father. Avoids looking at herself too much, and whenever she does it feels like he’s looking back at her, judging.
Only ever smoothes herself over before important court meetings and social events. She doesn't know how makeup works, so before any party she asks Asra to sort her out. Cas looking prim is both a treat and a source of friendly jabs.
✦ Character traits
Power walking by default. This can be somewhat intimidating, and she won’t stop if someone is in her way - just put them to the side and continue.
Puts up a really convincing pretence of formality and refinement.
In actuality she finds this facade tiresome, and just wants to talk fast about battle/hunting feats or astronomy. Maybe show off her pyromancy.
Loves socializing, it recharges her batteries.
Dilligent worker.
Tends to overwork herself and neglect her relationships.
Often scatter minded and wanting to do too many things at one time.
Doesn’t appreciate people instigating physical contact or getting up in her face. She needs to prepare herself for it, or be the initiator.
Stubborn as a mule. Never knows when to stop pressing people.
Extremely callous at times.
Annoyingly overbearing
Most of this springs from a place of fear - things had a habit of getting worse whenever her family imposed decisions onto her. In her mind, if she’s the one holding the reins, everything will be better. And if something does fail - she will be the only one to blame.
Starting arguments comes much too easily to her, but she’s just as quick to introspect, and seek out the person she argued with to apologize and approach the issue in an appropriate manner.
Forgives easily
Eternally scoffing at astrology. She knows shes being bigoted, but at this point its almost like an inside joke between her and Asra. “Astrology? It's baby stuff. PSEUDOSCIENCE!” (she cries as she worries over her afternoon tarot reading and preparing pretty horoscopes for the Shop...)
A huge hypocrite at times. “Do as I say, not as I do” could easily be her motto.
Both the upright and reversed Knight of Swords card sums her character up perfectly.
✦ Occupation & Residency
Vesuvia:
Beginning of her story follows the game canon almost to a T - Cas lives with Asra in the Shop, and works there. It bores her to death, and she plays tricks on every customer just to entertain herself.
After being officially hired by Nadia as the Palace Magician, Castor moves out of the shop and purchases a modest house in Goldgrave, much below the value of what Nadia offered her, and what she could afford. It’s convenient and that’s what matters to Cas. She continues supplying the shop diligently, and takes over whenever Asra runs off.
Nadia insisted on Castor having an office in the palace. It grew on her with time, and after The Devil is dealt with it becomes her little “hub”.
Hjalle:
Cas lived with her family in the castle site until 17 years old.
After denying her parents their plans for her future as a judge, she hunkered down in a hunting lodge outside of the town, and spent almost two years living that way - she still thinks of these two years as the most joyous time in her life.
The only thing she ever used her family’s wealth for was commissioning the construction of an extravagant observatory. Reminiscent of a gothic fortress, the stark exterior is contrasted with insides filled with artwork and art-nouveau ornaments. The central chamber is a vast library with a powerful telescope in its apse - it is a sight that could take the breath of the most haughty of nobles.
There’s a tiny living space below the main chamber, furnished sparingly, but with a lovely fireplace (in Hjalle, its a necessity). It’s where Cas stays after becoming the inquisitor/whenever she visits after the in-game events.
✦ Trivia
Cas is 23 years old when she first arrives to Vesuvia - 28 at the time of The Devil’s downfall.
She freed Merlin from a merchant’s cage in the Red Market, during one of her outings in the three year interlude after her death - Asra fumes after they find out she snuck out to the market - yet is amazed that Cas found a familiar.
Cas regained her first memories via touching objects linked to her past life - a letter from Aster, articles of clothing, a sword...
This self re-discovering takes a turn for the worse when Cas finally finds a large, ornate knife - the one she inherited after becoming inquisitor. The memories it resurfaces are a staggering blow to Castor, completely derailing the beliefs she had about her own person. She thought of herself as a paragon, and remembering the torture she inflicted upon others, the lives taken in the name of “justice” made her relapse into bitterness and disenchantment. She deals with those feelings as her investigation into the courtiers progresses.
Predominantly uses pyromancy, other types of magic are strictly used for her work at the palace, and rather sparingly.
Could be best described as a battlemage - enjoys being in melee range and assaulting her quarry with both sword and fire; the latter being used more as a way to distract or stagger the enemy than actually harm. There's no fun in just burning them up!
Doesn’t cook for herself, although she has a natural knack for it - will only cook for guests and short people.
Her dislike of Lucio clashes with gratitude for employing her when she first arrived to Vesuvia - he was the knife which cut Cas off from her parents, and it’s something she could never forget.
Demiromatic/sexual.
She was offered to be knighted by Nadia after defeating The Devil. Cas declined - It’s much more than a title to her, and accepting seemed like mockery (considering her past as inquisitor).
Short fuse, she learns to better control herself while working in the palace. But if someone really pushes her the nearby candles miiiight get a bit out of control. Or she’ll just throttle them.
Hates her full name - Castor is such a mouthful. Sounds stuck up too...
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honney-boy · 3 years
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Wonder (Part 1)
Rudy Pankow x Oc!Reader
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gif by → @riobeth​
Wonder Series Masterlist | Wonder Playlist
Chapter summary:  Rudy and Nevaeh meet in person for the first time and things aren’t awkward. Yougurt cups, bananas and ice blended in a cup and maple syrup.
Full Summary and Story Concept
Warning(s): language, shenanigans, jet laggness, social media zombies, teenage girls
Words: 5k+
A/N:  This is my first attempt at a Rudy fic. My first series too! But if this flops, let's pretend it never happened, okay? :) But If you guys want to read more, please do let me know. Your love and support is the encouragement I need. I got the concept from tik tok haha. Fair warning, I am handwriting out chapters with a pen and paper before converting it digitally, so updates with be spread out. THERE WILL BE GRAMMAR MISTAKES! I'm human, and Tumblr is my test run for this series. Anywho, hope you enjoy :)
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One | “Social Zombies”
            In Nevaeh's opinion, airports were the worst. It wasn't due to the 38,000 feet in the air flying ride or the nothingness in the sky you see your whole flight; it was the people, the airports themselves, and the limited space.
Airports were much worse than flying - especially the San Francisco International Airport. Also known as SFO Airport. The few times, literally very few times, Nevaeh has been to the airport, she had poor experiences. Now, SFO Airport is definitely smaller than LAX and not as busy - it's a nightmare. You would think with a much smaller airport, there would be fewer crowds, but no, it's like a family reunion every day but with strangers. If you bump into the wrong person, your day on the off chance will get ruined.
Along with the busy crowds, there are many places to eat. From pizza to Italian to pie, your choices are endless. That's until half or more restaurants are closed or have long lines. Nevaeh never ate airport food, so she couldn't give her opinion on it. She'll leave that to the professional reviews. She wasn't at SFO Airport to judge the food or traffic flow, not even the staff's attitude - except she already gave a flight attendant a glare. The flight attendant took a bathroom break before their next flight and griped at Nevaeh because she used the last paper towel so they couldn't dry their hands. Air drying is a thing, and it works well, she thought to herself while leaving the restroom. She was not going to let one grumpy flight attendant ruin her great mood. She was going to meet someone who she hopes is special today.
Over the past two months, Nevaeh and this person had gotten to know each other well, virtually, that is. They met online, and Nevaeh lived in San Francisco while they lived in Alaska. Countless messages, facetime calls, photos, and videos were exchanged, and a bond was formed. Who would have thought that two people could meet through a video sharing social media app and hit it off? Most people start with dating apps, meet and get to know different people, but Nevaeh met them all because a video of hers popped up on their for you page.
Nevaeh created and shared a variety of things on the app. From cooking to creating and her little hobby of disco skating. She wanted to keep her followers and supporters entertained and herself; she didn’t want to be stuck, making the same content, so she did many things. Nevaeh thought maybe one of her disco skating, videography, or cooking videos drew them in, but it was one of her mini vlogs. In the video, she showed how she would scout places before spending the day getting footage for a short montage film or scenes for a movie she is working on. Not long after the discovery, they - he sent her a message asking about a more in-depth explanation of her process, and it went up from there.
Now, after all this time of them chatting back and forth, they get to meet. Nevaeh gets to meet him. 
Standing by the arrival gate, her eyes bouncing around the room at different things just to keep her mind centered and not all over the place. She wanted to pick at her nails, or hold her hands to her chest but she couldn’t hold them in place for long; she opted for playing with the white beaded bracelet he bought and sent to her in a box full of other things. It was so sweet of him; just thinking about the box she received makes her smile and her heart swell. Just last week she received a box full of thoughtful gifts. Inside were some of her favorite snacks, a movie she loved, one of his hoodies - it was the hoodie he wore the first time they facetimed. The hoodie was one of his favorites, but he had the urge to send it to her, he just wanted her to have it. And finally was the white beaded bracelet with a single aqua blue bead on it - he had the matching one with all aqua beads and one single black bead. She was having an uncreative and pretty shitty day until that box arrived on the front door step of her shared apartment.
“I wanted to surprise you, so I messaged Birdie asking her for your favorite snacks, I added the hoodie and got the two of us distance bracelets. You know, because we are long distance.” He told her later that day when they talked on the phone.
“Until you come here, or I go there,” she replied. She hasn’t stopped wearing the hoodies since and she has had the bracelet on since the moment she got it.
Nevaeh watched different people walk past her; none of them were him yet. The dirty blond mess he sported for hair shouldn't be that hard to miss, but the longer she searched, the more she doubted her assumption. 
It was another couple of minutes that went by, and she didn't see him, so she pulled her phone out to see if he had sent something. Maybe he has to catch a different flight, and he forgot to tell her, or perhaps he didn't want to meet after all. Her fingers type out a message to send, but a figure stands in front of her before she hits the send button. Nevaeh could see the shadow of their body from her peripheral vision, but she did not look up, hoping they would go away - but they didn't. Sending her message, the woman was preparing to turn away until she heard the stranger's phone go off. It's just a coincidence that their phone went off a couple of seconds after I sent a message. She said to herself, then she looked up and there he was. Dirty blond hair - a little long all over, but instead of it being in his face like it always is, it was pushed back and tucked underneath a red cap. His eyes were more lovely in person. The pair ranged from a light blue to gray, depending on the day. Today they were light blue. He sported stubble across his chin and cheeks with a blond mustache above his top lip. He wore nothing flashy, just a simple red ACDC sweatshirt, cargo shorts, and a pair of vans. He looked tired, but that didn't throw off the good vibes and smile he had going on. She couldn't help but smile back. He's here in the flesh. Rudy.
"Hi," he said light-heartedly, breaking the silence.
"Hi," she echoed; the smile on her face grew some more. "Wow, you're really here in the flesh."
He chuckled, and the sound woke up the butterflies in her stomach. "Yeah, I am. And you...the pictures and videos don't do enough justice for the actual thing." His eyes scan over her, noticing the navy blue Hilfiger sweatshirt he sent to her. Nevaeh couldn't help the dust of blush that appeared on her cheek.
“Talk about me, what about you? Who knew those Snapchat filters were hiding such a god-like person.”
“Oh, stop, you’re making me blush,” he joked while bashful. No matter online or in person, Nevaeh was still able to get him flushed; it was something he didn’t want to admit, not while he was flying blind with this.
Nevaeh smiled and had a tiny giggle; the full laugh was muffled by the hand she brought up to her mouth in an attempt to hold the sound back. He could watch her smile for a while. Is that weird? “How was your flight? I hope it wasn’t too horrible.”
“It wasn’t too bad,” he admitted. “Definitely long, but nothing a pair of earbuds, music, and a couple of movies couldn’t fix.” The two quickly began walking toward the direction of baggage claim. More of Rudy just following whichever direction Nevaeh was going. She did know the airport better anyway.
“Which movies did you watch?” she asked.
“Since I had six hours to waste - Joker, 1917 and Pride & Prejudice.”
“Oh, I see you listened to my suggestions; not surprised you watched Joker again,” Rudy shrugged his shoulders with a hum. “I’m surprised you didn’t watch the Harry Potter movies.”
Rudy rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Actually, I already watched them a couple of days ago,” Nevaeh hummed as if she were to say, ‘of course’ “You can judge me all you want. I won’t pay you any mind. Just the same as I did with the guy that had the aisle seat in my row. I guess other guys find it weird that a guy decided to watch a period drama on a flight.”
“He was just jealous he didn’t think of it first. Mr. Darcy’s pinning for Miss. Bennett and the film’s  overarching theme is too good not to watch.”
“That it is, who would want to miss the warnings heeded against trusting one’s first impression or prejudices?”
“Or the character arcs that grow throughout the storyline. I pity that aisle sitting man.”
“I do too,” Rudy agreed. “He missed out on a classic and had to get up to let the other person and me out to take a tinkle.” He did it again. He made her laugh genuinely. The conversation between them flowed. The small worry Nevaeh had earlier about the two of them not being able to continue the light-hearted and enjoyable nature they had over text had diminished. He seemed just the same - goofy, charismatic, charming, and caring - as he was over the phone the past month and a half. She, too, was still kind, compassionate, and sarcastic as before. Yet both of them had their own doubts about the thing they were doing; they didn’t know what it was or where it was headed, but they were willing to find out.
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           In the car, Nevaeh drove the route she knew from the airport to her shared apartment. Rudy sat in the passenger seat; his gaze focused out the window, watching the San Francisco scenery appear, disappear and morph as they passed by the window. The radio played while they sat in a comfortable silence - it impressed her how easily they fell into it. Wasn't it common for an uncomfortable silence? Two people who just met for the first time should struggle in an attempt to make a conversation, but not them.
To Rudy, the comfortable silence was almost expected. Granted, he did expect one of them to talk the other's ear off - he's glad neither of them was. The six-hour flight took its effect on the man, but he wasn't going to let his fatigue ruin the time they had together. He'll rest later. Spend time with her now, sleep later.
The car rolled to a stop, a red light shined on the traffic light hanging in front of them. Rudy's eyes watch a girl across the street riding down the sidewalk on a skateboard. Her stance relaxed, feet planted in a way that helped her ride easily; she was experienced, probably skated regularly. Watching her skate triggered a longing in Rudy for his board back at home. He rides on concrete and in the snow, but he was missing snowboarding the most. It was beginning to be summer, so the temperatures in Alaska were warmer. To warm for snow but warm enough for the evergreen to take over. Now he was in California, the state that was sunny all the time. The state that thrived in the summer and its soil hardly ever to never had the chilled touch of snow. His longing grew more for the chilly weather and white flakes.
The woman sitting next to him took the next couple of seconds between the light change to look at him. Catching the moment of his gaze out the window of her jeep. "I know you're probably tired from your flight. I had some ideas about the things we could do, but we don't have to do anything today." She spoke and after, glanced at the traffic light only to see it was still red.
Rudy tore his gaze from the distant image of the skater and met Nevaeh's. "I am, but if you want to do something, we can. I'm more than happy to hang out." He said.
Trying to reason, she said, "I know, but you just got off a six-hour flight." 
"Nevaeh, it's fine. I'm not that burned out. Time zones are an hour apart, and seven am isn't that bad." she begins to give him a skeptical look. She heard his words but feels as if he was only saying that to make her happy. He sat by her, leaned back, and relaxed. His head sat lazily against the headrest, and the smile he was giving her was light but tiresome. She switched her gaze from him to the traffic light, which turned green, and she didn't know when. Nevaeh eased her foot off the brake and to the gas pedal. "Seriously, we can do something."
“Fine,” She says after a moment. “I won’t wear you out too much more.” Flicking her left turn signal on after checking her mirror, she merges into the lane beside her. “There’s somewhere I wanna take you - well, maybe two places, but we’re going to the apartment first.”
“Alright, sounds good to me.” Nevaeh drove them to the apartment she shared with her long term friend. Rudy followed behind her as she led the way; they only spent a few minutes there. After a short tour, a bathroom break, and dropping off a couple of suitcases later, Rudy and Nevaeh left the place. They began a walk along the San Francisco hills to the mysterious place Nevaeh had in mind.
“This place is somewhere I walk to every other day. It’s Birdie’s and my favorite place.” It was a short six to eight-minute walk. Nevaeh reassured him before briefly going into a conversation about the impressive things you see in the city. Just like Nevaeh told him, they both come up upon a corner shop with a couple of large windows to see inside and out, a brown exterior with outside tables with green umbrellas and foldable outdoor chairs. The corner shop was known as the Nasik Cafe. For a small cafe, the place was doing well. There were a handful of people inside sitting, chatting, or ordering and quite a few sitting outside.
“This place is pretty health-oriented, and like Starbucks, it has things you could make at home for free, but their stuff is great,” Nevaeh explained to the man.
"So you spend way too much on yogurt cups, fruit drinks, toast, and other food you can make at home?" She nods her head like it was evident at what he said. Rudy shook his head. "Couldn't you just spend ten dollars on a yogurt cup?"
"Oh my goodness, they don't have yogurt cups, Rudy." She shook her head in disbelief.
"Okay, so ten dollars for a banana blended with ice in a cup - still sounds ridiculous to me."
"I can't with you," She tilted her head back, but she wasn't annoyed. She found his witticism amusing. At this rate, Nevaeh should prepare to always smile all the time around him. "You should find a table out here, and I can grab us something - wait, do you want to sit out here?"
Rudy nodded, then began to scan the area but only briefly seeing a couple of empty tables. "Yeah, it's nice out, let's enjoy it. Out here is great."
"Great," she says, pleased. "I'll grab something; I wanna surprise you. I'll be back." Nevaeh turns to walk inside. The smell of strawberries, oranges, and granola invaded her nose. It wasn't a new smell to her, but a new one for the day. She would always smell fruit and granola wherever she would walk into Basik. Some days it smelt like bananas and chocolate, or honey, peanut butter, and coconut. The smells varied, but the most prominent one was the tropical smell. To her left at a table was a couple enjoying smoothies. Both cops were a little under half full. A person sat at another table, invested in their laptop. To her right, more people sat. Art adorns the walls as realism paintings along with abstract images. There was a line at the counter; no more than four people stood waiting. She took the time to look up at the big and wide wood board hanging from the ceiling. When Nevaeh told Rudy she wanted to surprise him with something, she knew what she was getting for the both of them. The colorful and fruitful acai bowls.
Nevaeh and her roommate Birdie loved acai bowls. Birdie was the one to introduce her friend to the fantastic bowls she grew to love. Now it was her turn to turn another friend onto them.
The line moved along smoothly and grew smaller by the minutes. Once Nevaeh got closer, her lips stretched into a grin as her eyes caught sight of the barista.
"Hi, what can I get you? Could I interest you in our new fall to-Vae! Hey." the blonde barista's mood brightened significantly when she realized she was taking Nevaeh's order. She leaned across the counter and grabbed hold of Nevaeh's hand, and laced their fingers together. "What are you doing here? I thought you had to pick up your friend." She said, then making finger quotations. The barista was her roommate, Birdie. Birdie was a full-time college student and full-time barista to get by. She was more than happy to talk to her friend now that she wasn't as busy - Nevaeh was the only person in line for now.
"I was - I did pick up my friend. No air quotes, we're friends."
"For now."
"Whatever," she rolled her eyes at the blonde. "He's here with me, just outside." Birdie looked past Nevaeh and out the window in search of this guy. Nevaeh looked around for him, too; she didn't get to see where he chose to sit. "He's...the one with the red cap, right there." She pointed out once she spotted him. Birdie hummed and squinted her eyes to get a better look, which was difficult with the angle he sat at.
"He looks nice...from here," Birdie leaned back, so her fingers could let go of Nevaeh's and tap the terminal screen as she put her friend's usual order in. While Birdie did that, Nevaeh nodded in agreement but kept her gaze on him. "Lemme guess, the usual?"
"Kilauea; everything but-"
"No pollen and extra honey." Birdie finished with assuredness and not a drop of doubt in her answer. Her friend smiled, her eyes looking to Birdie with amazement.
"You know me too well."
"Well, you order the same thing almost every time."
"Touche," she couldn't argue with that. When it came to her acai bowl, she liked the Kilauea - made with mango juice, granola, berries, papaya, honey, and acai - the best. "And water, of course - make that two." She stepped back to look over the menu. Rudy wasn't familiar with the place, and he didn't know what they served, so Nevaeh wanted to get him something he hopefully liked. She decided to go with something not too fancy - directing her attention back to her barista friend. She went ahead and finished her order. "And...let me get the Islander acai bowl." That one was made with hemp mylk, granola, banana, berries, cocoa shavings, and honey.
Birdie rang up the rest of the order for Nevaeh. After catching a glimpse at the total, Nevaeh reached in the little card pocket of her wallet and grabbed her card. Unbeknownst to her, while she was getting her card, Birdie took her name tag and gave her friend her employee discount - she got it for half the price.
“I know you’re an independent woman and paying for the first date, the least I could do is give you a discount. Just don’t tell Daniel.” She winked, and Nevaeh gave her a thumbs up with one hand, and with the other, she made a zipping and locking motion over her mouth before throwing the key.
Outside, Rudy sat at the table he picked out for the two of them while waiting. While Nevaeh ran inside to get their order, he observed the small San Francisco scenery around him. California weather was sunshine with fluffy clouds. Just about everyone was either in shorts, a tank, and a cut-off shirt or any other summer clothing that provided them some comfort in the blazing sun. He dressed just right for the weather, though in Alaska, it was more on the chill side, causing him to wear a sweatshirt while he left. Now that he was basking in the California weather, he took off the warm sweatshirt and left it at Nevaeh’s apartment.
There were other people outside along with him. A group of girls sat a few feet away at a table in front of him, trying not to giggle as they attempted to make a video. At another table, there were two guys, perhaps brothers. They were eating something colorful from a bowl - it looked like yogurt to Rudy - and having a conversation with one another.
Rudy shook his head at the drastic difference between the two tables. Maybe it was just him, but it was amazing how much the world - more specifically America- was wrapped up in technology and social media. Sure the brothers at the one table had digital watches that told them the time and lit up, catching their attention with a vibrate when a text or notification went to their phone. But at least they could carry on a conversation without having their phone in their hands. On the other hand, those girls haven’t put their phones down longer than a few seconds. After those seconds, they tap away or show the other something they thought was worthy enough to gauge a reaction out of them.
Rudy wasn't one to judge. He didn't have much right to because while watching them and waiting for Nevaeh, he had the urge to pull out his phone. It was almost like a habit, but he chooses not to feed the temptation. He wanted to enjoy the day with Nevaeh; notice the burn on his skin from the sun, get to know her, have fun, pick up on little cues she has, and find out what he likes the most about her. And though it was kind of ironic that the two of them met through social media, he hopes Nevaeh is not one of those social zombies. Then this trip would be a waste of time and effort.
Ruby pulled his sunglasses down due to the sun starting to bother his eyes. Then he also wanted to cover his eyes and focus on something else while he waited. A minute later, Nevaeh walked out of the cafe's door backward with her back pushing the door open. In her hands, she had what she ordered; he wondered what she got. Rudy briskly stood up out of his seat to help her out.
"Hey, let me help you out," he walks around the table towards her, but she only nods him off.
"I got it, you sit."
"You have all the food and drinks in your hands; it's the least I can do." he stood off to the side, not interfering but reading despite what she said. He watches her struggle a bit and almost drops the stuff. Rudy immediately reached out, but Nevaeh had already saved herself and looked at him with a smile.
"I got it, Rudy. I was just pulling your leg." He picked up on the playfulness in her eyes, which made him pull his lips into a smile matching hers; her smile is definitely contagious.
“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands, backing away and then taking his seat. Nevaeh took her seat across from him, sat everything down before passing him the items she got him. “What’d you get us?”
“Well, I don’t know if you have had this before, but it’s my go-to thing to get here. It’s an acai bowl,” Nevaeh’s eyes caught his confused expression before he tried to cover it up with an understanding.  She laughed softly and explained further. “It’s like a smoothie bowl with other things in it.”
“Smoothie bowl…” he murmured more to himself, but she still heard it.
Shaking her head, she continued. “Acai palm is the main ingredient along with bananas and granola, but you can add other fruits or peanut butter and syrups. Or take things off.”
“Like maple syrup?” he asked, looking at the acai bowl she got him.
Her face begins to twist in disgust until she covers it with a shrug and looks down at her bowl, ready to dig in. “Uh, I guess if that’s what you want, then yeah.” She answered, and Rudy nodded his head and grabbed his spoon to take a taste. Before Nevaeh tasted her own, she watched Rudy, waiting for his reaction. He took a bite, letting the flavor invade his taste buds.
“Wow, this is good,” He says after swallowing. He glanced up, catching Nevaeh already looking at him. She quickly looked away and stirred her bowl.
“I’m glad you like it; it’s my second favorite one,” she peeked back up, and Rudy was still looking at her. Laughing softly to herself, then shaking her head, she takes a bite of her own, almost moaning at the taste. “I’m surprised you haven’t had one before.”
“ I have wanted to try one, but never really went with actually going out to get one.”
“Well, maybe now you will get them more often,” She says but stops herself before taking another bite. “Wait...you aren’t allergic to any fruit, are you? Or granola?”
He lifted a brow while getting another scoop. “Oh, only bananas,” He replies. Nevaeh watches him as he lifts the spoon to his mouth and takes another bite that includes bananas before she could reach across the table and stop him in time. “What?” he looked at her. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear, her mouth opening to say something but closed when nothing came out. “Is there something wrong?”
Nodding her head slowly, she sat down her spoon and reached for her phone in her pocket just in case. "You ate a banana, and you just told me you were allergic to them." Nevaeh wanted to yell at him for being so careless, but that would mean she was too for not asking before ordering something random for him. She pretended to remain calm but was internally panicking.
"I actually eat them all the time," he held back the smile easing its way into his features. "I eat them quite often. They're a great source of potassium and vitamin C."
"So you aren't allergic to bananas?" she noted, and Rudy shook his head. His mouth broke out into the smile he managed to hold back for a few seconds. Nevaeh relaxed a bit, her shoulders dropping as she was no longer tense. "You're an asshole, you know that, right?" Rudy gasped softly, a hand placed on his chest as he looked at her, offended at her comment.
"What, me, an asshole? That can't be right, I'm really nice," he said and made Nevaeh huffed. "What do you not believe me?"
The woman shrugged, the smile still on her face when she looked down at her food. "Well, you did play a mean joke just now; I thought I almost killed you." She reminded him and picked at her bowl.
"I wanted to see how caring you were, and you passed the test. Now you love me, don't you?"
"You wish," she said, taking a bite then pointing at him with her spoon. "We're going on a road trip together, let's see if I survive that, then I'll let you know if I like you enough to be your friend or jump out of a moving car because you're an annoying little shit."
Rudy raised his eyebrows, smirking at her now. "Me being an annoying little...alright. Let's make a deal," he starts; Nevaeh gestures for him to continue. "If you survive this road trip, meaning - if you have a great time - I get to take you to my home town in Alaska. Ah, ah. I'm not finished." he held his finger up to stop her from making a comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, attempting to hide a simple, but you could see the amusement on her face. "If you don't have a great time, I'll do whatever you want."
"So, If I understand right, If you win, you get to take me to Alaska - assuming I haven't been there already,"
“Wait, you’ve been to Alaska?” Nevaeh held her finger up, echoing his movements moments before.
“If you win, you take me to Alaska, and if I win, you do whatever I want, correct?”
“Yeah, as long as it’s not too inappropriate or impossible,” He says, already finished with his acai bowl, which Nevaeh didn’t remember seeing him eat the rest. It didn’t matter when he ate it, she didn’t care, but that was quick. Looking down at her own, she wasn’t more than halfway done. “So, so we have a deal?”
Nevaeh looked up from her food, meeting his ocean-like eyes. The pair were becoming more familiar over the past few weeks from countless photos and videos the two have shared over Snapchat. Messages over text and facetime calls. They got to know each other digitally, and now they have to learn more in person. 
“We have a deal.” She says, and Rudy sticks his hand out, which she gladly took. They shook hands. While doing so, Rudy thought of a million possibilities to get the woman across from him to a great time and not just so he could take her to Alaska, his home. He found her intriguing, and he wants to take the time to get to know her better and maybe have a solid standing friendship at the end of it all. If the cosmos had a say, perhaps something more would blossom.
➣ End Note:
So, I honestly don’t know how the next few or future chapters will go but hopefully they turn out well. Here are the Revaeh interactions we all needed and plenty more to come so just you wait. ;)
AGAIN IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE THE SERIES I WILL, JUST LET ME KNOW.
Wonder Taglist:
@Scooby6, @ifilwtmfc​, @rudypankowswife​, @themaddies-obx​
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the-irish-mayhem · 4 years
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Fosterson Fic Rec Masterlist: Oneshots
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The Main Reclist has been split to fix the links that tumblr decided to break if there were too many of them in a single post. I’ll be keeping the main reclist updated (even if the links appear broken) as well as maintaining this list and the list for multichapters.
I need help expanding this list! If you have any favorites or fics of your own of your own you don’t see included in this list and you’d like to submit for consideration, please drop me a line.
List updated April 2020. New additions marked with **
Updated during this wild quarantined time, which should serve as a reminder to everyone to APPRECIATE YOUR CONTENT CREATORS! Leave all the comments and kudos to show our love for everything they do. Big thanks to everyone who recommended and/or created content for this amazing ship.
Rated G/K-K+
**Promise by igi_pigi: Thor visits Jane to say goodbye before he leaves for Asgard. Rec: Bittersweet but lovely post-AOU, semi AU pre-Ragnarok. | 1.1k
**Spooky Nights by igi_pigi: "So what is it about?" Thor asks. "Or are we to go in uninformed?"Jane's eyes instinctively flick towards the blank tv screen. Darcy was insistent about it being a horror movie this time - as they serve as "perfect romance fodder", according to the maniac. Jane has decided to go with the recent one, 'The Conjuring'. [Set a few months after Thor2] Rec: Just sweet, dumb, wonderful fluff. Not an ounce of angst to be found. Also Thor learning about Earth is always sweeeeet. | 3.2k
**Stars and Solitude by igi_pigi: It's Jane's first night in Thor's home, however unusual the circumstances. He wishes to show her somewhere. She thinks it's his room. [Set during Thor2] Rec: A nice lil add on, Thor inviting Jane further into his life. | 3.3k
**Can’t Go Back the Same Way You Came by gumbridge: Loki lets go. This is what happens after. (post-film; basically a fixit fic.) Rec: This is pretty Loki-centric, but Jane is fabulously written, the family unit that Loki gets inducted into makes me very happy, and the fosterson is understated but so important and wonderful. | 20k
**spring will come by LadyCharity: As if grieving over the death of her husband wasn't hard enough, Jane has to deal with Thor's angry, bitter, emotionally shot little brother. Rec: This is literally all pain but god it is so good. You can feel the love binding Jane and Loki and Thor and it is so, so well written. Holy shit. | Content Warning: Major Character Death | 12k
the universe in your hand by amonkeysue: For the free day of Fosterson Week 2019, Thor's finally taking the right chance to propose to Jane. Rec: an adorable little bite-sized proposal fic. | <1k
Who Lives, Who Dies by MissChrisDaae: When the dust settles, who is left? Rec: Post-Infinity War, semi-kidfic. Pretty cute, and brings Jane into the story like she should’ve been. | 1.2k
Morning by MissChrisDaae: Thor and Jane's morning is interrupted by their kids. Rec: Fluffy fluffy FLUFFY Jane and Thor with a whole gaggle of children. | <1k
Trending by MissChrisDaae: Jane and Darcy's work session gets a little derailed. Rec: For the Social Media day of Fosterson Week, a fluffy and silly bit, and feeds into the 2012 Avengers Fic nostalgia. | <1k
ever on and on by often_adamanta: Darcy has to correct three separate people at the reception about their relationship, not younger cousin or sister, but college professor and boss and finally best friend. Jane thinks about their surprise, the second glances they give her, and wonders. Rec: Jane deals with the implications of immortality. Her friendship with Darcy is so potent and real in this. | 3k
Before the Thunder Shook Us by niobium: #6, “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” #14, “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.” Rec: This is such a wonderful canon-insertion/canon divergence. Just enough fluff and bittersweetness to seem real. | 1k
Private Jokes by MissChrisDaae: Before his return to Asgard, Thor and Jane have a talk. Two years later, Thor misses a chance and Jane has to carry on. Rec: An AOU coda and a Ragnarok fix-it all in one. Feisty Jane and apologetic Thor. My bbs. | 1k
On the Physics of Magical Space Hammers by shinyopals: ‘So what does it mean to be “Worthy”?’ Jane asked. Jane doesn't mind sharing her life with Mjolnir. She just wishes she understood it a bit better. Rec: We’ve all wondered about Mjolnir and worthiness. Jane finally takes the initiative to find out with amazing results. | 4k
Fives Times Jane and Thor Broke Up and One Time They Didn’t by shinyopals: I didn’t know you were in the country, Jane,’ said Jane's grandmother. ‘Of course, nobody tells me anything.’ ‘It’s just a very last minute thing,’ said Jane, which Thor knew to be a lie. ‘I only arrived yesterday-’ another lie, ‘and I’m just on the way to work and thought I’d stop by and see Mom.’ This too was not true. ‘This is my friend Thor,’ she added, almost casually. ‘He’s been helping me with some work so we’re driving into the university together.’ This seemed the most flagrant of all the lies, but Thor decided not to let it show. It's not always convenient to be a relationship, so sometimes Jane and Thor have to make sacrifices. Rec: A giant SUCK ON THIS FEIGE that takes the “Jane and Thor break up” concept to the best possible places. | 12k
Hours Long and Short by shinyopals: The first night, Thor does not sleep. (Written for a post-TDW prompt for Fosterson Week 2017.) Rec: A really wonderful slice of life fic post-TDW. Deals with their trauma so wonderfully, and includes some lovely soft moments. | 4k
#7Days7Hobbies by shinyopals: Thor wants to try out some of Midgard's finest hobbies and turns to Twitter for suggestions. Jane isn't really sure how this is now her life. (Prompt for Day 4: Domestic, for Fosterson Week 2017.) Rec: One of my favorite things that’s ever been submitted for Fosterson Week. I love reading about Thor fully embracing Earth customs, particularly social media, which opal KNOWS is one of my weaknesses. | 5k
A Question of Honor by shinyopals: ‘Paintball?’ said Steve. ‘We could do… that…’ ‘What is that?’ asked Thor. He nuzzled into Jane’s hair. His mead-breath was giving her a headache. ‘It’s a thing- a game… thing. With paint.’ ‘Rogers, stop explaining stuff to Thor, you’re embarrassing me.’ Tony’s voice was remarkably coherent. Must have been drinking sensibly. Bastard. When it comes to deciding whether Earth or Asgard has better warriors, the stakes are high, and Jane is wishing she'd kept her big mouth shut. Rec: TEAM BUILDING EXERCISES FOR THE WIN. | 8k
The Gift Horse by fartherfaster: Sam and Darcy are formally introduced for the first time. Sam says “formally” with some flexibility. And a couch. A couch and a great deal of flexibility. Nevermind, he’s said enough. They met, is what he’s trying to say. Or, Sam's early days with the whole gang. Rec: Mostly a teamfic from Sam Wilson’s POV, which is awesome because how often do you see that. Fosterson is mostly background, but it made me smile so much. | 3k
on the verge of understanding something extraordinary by dirgewithoutmusic: “Jane, you’re an astrophysicist, not a storm chaser,” said Erik Selvig, and he was wrong. She was just an astrophysicist too. (A Jane Foster character study) Rec: I’m relatively certain I read this before and loved it, only it somehow didn’t make the reclist. An amazing, touching, wonderful, stunning portrait of Jane Foster. | 9k
starlight in her eyes by jdphoenix: “You,” she says, voice strong with accusation. “You’re the one who attacked me!” Thor really must laugh at that. “You are the one who attacked me. Or is it considered polite among stars to crash into one another?” Rec: A really awesome take on a Stardust fusion AU. Full of inquisitive Jane and cocky Thor. It gave me really hard vibes from the first Thor film. | 1.2k
a true lady of Asgard by jdphoenix: It's not uncommon for Jane to fall asleep working when she's chasing a new theory or hunting down evidence but the middle of a battle for the future of Asgard is not the time. Rec: Jane becoming a fixture of sorts in Asgard is one of my kinks. Also Jane being friends with Thor’s friends and the people of Asgard. Kink. | 3.5k
Afterwit by RC_McLachlan: Good with patients, bad with relationships. That's what she told Thor before she ripped the name tag from the shirt in his hands and crumbled it in her palm, relishing the way the sticky back clung to her skin before she threw it in the waste bin. She'd never been so right in her life up to that point—the rightest she's ever been was when she decided to offer the crazy blond guy a ride to his mysterious non-satellite in the desert. Or, the one in which Jane and Thor run into Donald Blake. Rec: I am such a sucker for the “running into the shitty ex with the New and Improved Partner” trope and this is that. All of that to such a wonderful degree. | 2.7k
drabbles by freshexes: Rec: Some really fantastic little bits of prose. Great voices of Thor and Jane. Some fluffies, some angst. | 1k
The Good Times are Killing Me by alwaysaprilia: Rec: Modern royals AU. Jane and Thor are perfect in this. The dialogue is sublime, and the interactions made me squee really hardcore. I only wish there was more. | 3.6k
College AU by anthropologicalhands: Rec: It’s kinda more meta/heacanon, but it’s really adorable. | 1k
all’s fair (in love and war) by sweetwatersong: This is what you fight for. This is what you yearn to feel: this moment, this passing of every second, this rush of life and the indomitable strength of the present. Thor is a warrior, born and bred, and he is glad of any battle - and yet, as with all things, even this can change. Rec: A Thor introspect and a really well done second person perspective. | 1k
Five Times Thor Gets His Shirt Off FOR GREAT JUSTICE And One Time He Doesn’t by shinyopals: Sometimes Thor’s armour is more useful when not being worn by him. He definitely doesn’t end up in these situations on purpose. Rec: Please bury me in every single five times fic shinyopals has written. This one might be my absolute favorite. So many fantastic interactions for Thor, not just with Fosterson (which is BEYOND perfect), but the whole team. Plus: naked Thor fighting bad guys in an apron. Also the SamSteve is so strong and I’m in love. | 9.8k
A Discussion of Hypotheticals by shinyopals: Jane and Thor talk about their future. Hypothetically. Rec: I am so glad we’ve made Fosterson Week a thing because this fic is WONDERFUL. Great communication makes me weak, and also so many squee-worthy moments. | 5k
Jane Foster Versus the Internet. Or: Five Times Jane Allegedly Dated An Avenger And One Time She Apparently Did Not by shinyopals: Jane discovers that the internet is The Worst. Rec: It’s the thing I loved so much I made graphics for it because it’s so good. Jane’s interactions with all the Avengers are delightful, not to mention her steady relationship with Thor that is so grounded and real. It’s also freaking hilarious. | 10.4k
Untitled by polyamoryavengers: Rec: Angst and fluff and Jane comforting Thor. *cartwheels into the sun* | 1k
Sexiest ‘Something’ Alive by Niobium: Tony is bound and determined to make sure a human is awarded the title of Sexiest Man Alive (he even has a solid candidate in mind); Jane just wants media outlets to get their science right. Rec: This is absolutely fantastic. Just the right kind of blend of humor, sweetness, and meta criticism ever. | 7.5k
The Hours Filled by websandwhiskers: Ritual and comradery are basic human needs. Rec: Focus on Jane, not a ton of Thor, but pregnant Jane is always a delight. | 1.7k
First Dates? by hariboo: Jane’s not really sure what her and Thor’s first date is? The party or the barbecue? In end does it matter? Rec: I am not a big fan of high school AUs, but if they float your boat, this is definitely worthwhile. | 1.4k | Part of Let’s Be Young Forever series
Of Car Crashes and Coffee by hariboo: “you bumped my car and I’m so piss- oh wow no you’re hot let’s go for a coffee” au prompt. Exactly what it says on the tin. Rec: This made me giggle. Super duper cute. | 1.3k
Tactile Perception by RC_McLachlan: “The day I met you, I knew you would see me.” Her hands find his face, sliding over his jaw, his cheeks, and she brings their foreheads together. “The day I met you, I hit you with my car. Twice.” Rec: *dies quietly* Teasing and cute story telling and just so many good things. | 2k
Clarke’s Third Law by shinyopals: “Of all the people to knock down the stairs, she would pick the practically-seven-foot-tall son of the Minister for Magic who just happens to be the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.” Jane’s just trying to read every single book in the Hogwarts library in between classes, and she’s not quite sure how Thor happened to her. Rec: I never read Harry Potter but damn it this makes me want to. I just love this. So much. I don’t know how but it happened. I actually really wish there was more? | 3.8k
The Most Daring Prophecies–Dr Jane Foster at TED Talk by Rozilla: A transcript of Jane giving a TED Talk on her experiences of crossing the cosmos, Asgard and her hopes for the future of interstellar travel - as reported on WHIH. Rec: I can’t tell you how badly I wanted this to be real. Fosterson is mentioned a bit, and it makes me smile a lot. | 5.1k
Paradigm Shift by jdphoenix: “Jane’s implementing a ‘new organizational paradigm.’ She does this like once a year, usually when she’s extra stressed. Like after that time your brother messed up NYC.” Rec: cute domestics plus Jane is worthy. | 1.5k
Raging Storm by jdphoenix: Thor knows the moment he touches the hammer that it is not Mjolnir. Rec: A brilliant continuation of Paradigm Shift (above, previously recced) wherein Jane bests Loki and is worthy, plus Jane talking down berserker!Thor. So many of my Fosterson hot buttons. | 4k
Overlap by littlestardust: A moment between Thor and Jane. Alternative summary: Thor is respectful of Jane’s life choices, and also there is cuddling. Rec: Teeny tiny fic, but super cute. | <1k
amazed & confused by tashlae: Dating an alien/god/man who fell from the sky isn’t something to take lightly. Rec: Jane/Darcy centric with lots of talk about fosterson and a kinda sweet moment at the end. | 1k
untitled by ifilovedyouless: jane/thor, modern royals. Rec: Oh my god, the sweetness overload was too much. Also YAS Thor in military uniform. | 1k
Fosterson - dancing by batsonthebrain: Rec: Introspective, sweet, and with a heavy dose of mutual respect. | <1k
Unplanned by hariboo: The first person to hear Jane is pregnant isn’t Thor. It should be, but extenuating circumstances. This happens a lot when it comes to living in Stark Tower. Rec: Very much toeing the crack line. Baby!fic, obviously, plus fabulous Clint, and a semi?redeemed Loki. | 1.2k
clash of the (scientific) titans by anthropologicalhands: Thor brings Tony to meet Jane. Thor admits he probably could have thought it through a little better. Rec: this fic always makes me giggle. Fosterson is mostly background, but the interactions between everyone makes this worth it. | 1k
Through Doors by nayanroo: The Jedi Order knows a good team when they see it, but unfortunately even the best-planned missions always have something go hilariously wrong. That’s when the true strength of any bond is shown. Rec: A Star Wars fusion is always a good idea. The way Jane and Thor play off each other and their bond through the Force is lovely. | 4k
Straight On 'Til Morning by arsenicarcher: Thor and Jane are having a baby. Tony’s conflicted about the whole thing. Rec: Kinda Tony-centric, but I’m always up for a fosterson baby. | 4.4k
hard to keep the rainclouds out by veliseraptor: Rec: A unique view on Thor’s grief and Jane’s struggle to be there for him. Very lovely, very angsty. | 2.1k
Perils of an RPF Life by hariboo: Look, it isn’t that she isn’t excited for Jane, sure she is. But Darcy wonders if Jane ever thinks about that. The fact she’s dating the sexiest E.T. ever. Rec: Darcy’s voice in this is hilarious and touching all at once. Jane and Thor’s caring for each other is so clear and endearing I audibly squeed a few times. | 2k
amazed & confused by tashlae: Dating an alien/god/man who fell from the sky isn’t something to take lightly. Rec: Jane and Darcy friendship is a lot of fun. Jane’s pondering of their relationship seems very characteristic of her. | 1k
On The Unsubtle Nature of Fish Ties by Niobium: Fancy clothes shopping for your alien boyfriend should be easier than this. Or, how Thor got his red velvet jacket. Rec: Fosterson is mostly background, but cute Jane/Darcy/Pepper interaction. | 3.3k
Be Safe by MissChrisDaae: Thor and Jane have a contingency plan for emergencies. Rec: Speculation/AU for Age of Ultron. Baby!fic, and is just so damn cute. | <1k
It All Happens Here by MissChrisDaae: Her very first year of teaching, Jane Foster gets an unusual bonus in the form of one of her students’ extremely attractive father. Single dad and his daughter’s kindergarten teacher au. Rec: super fluffy and just adorable. | 7.5k
Remembrance by Are_you_ever_not_going_to_fall_for_that: Thor and Jane take a walk and come across something that sparks memories. Post The Dark World. Rec: Jane and Thor talk about Loki, and the lack of heavy angst is refreshing. | <1k
Traffic jam by kes: When you’ve been fighting omnicidal aliens and the bureaucracy, a getaway is in order. Unfortunately, flying from A to B isn’t always possible… Rec: domestics. cute domestics EVERYWHERE. | <1k
nothing is ever convenient (except to make things uncomfortable) by anthropologicalhands: After Thor returns, there is still the matter of responding to Richard. Rec: The awkwardness of dealing with Richard made me smile. A very smile inducing fic. | 1.3k
Jane on Top by Rozilla: Jane Foster is asked to lecture at the SHIELD Academy, but she feels her old anxieties and worries begin to creep in- but it’s okay. Darcy has her back, not to mention it appears she has a fan club at the Science and Tech Division of the SHIELD Academy! Rec: An unapologetic Jane-fest, which is my favorite kind of party. Fosterson is background, but very relevant. Darcy is a cool friend. | 4.1k
leave this star crossed world behind by anthropologicalhands: Sif visits Jane with an offering. Rec: Jane/ Sif friendship, and they talk about immortality. Great interactions and insights on fosterson. | 2k
Measured Uncertainties by plushbug: Gap-filler, applying to the 2011 Thor movie. A shot at what might have gone missing from the rooftop scene between Thor and Jane Foster, after his 'rescue’ from the SHIELD base. Fits between “…and Asgard. That’s where I come from.” and “Thank you, Jane." Rec: A good fill for the movies, explains some comic-verse continuties. Curious Jane is a lovely person, and Thor relishes in giving her knowledge. | 4k
halfway between the gutter and the stars by verity: Thor pulls his phone out of his pocket and lifts it above them to capture a picture of the moment, their hair lit by the sun, Jane’s soft smile next to his beaming grin. The Rise filter suits the image perfectly. “I shall title this 'THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE,’” Thor says, typing carefully on the touchscreen. “With the small image of your planet, flanked by sparkling stars." "Well, we abandoned a geocentric model of the galaxy hundreds of years ago,” says Jane. "'THE CENTER OF MY UNIVERSE,’“ Thor says. He amends his caption and selects the options to crosspost from Instagram to Twitter and Facebook. Rec: Okay I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE this. So much. I love the world-building that Avengers + social media allows for. Also, cute Thor and Jane and team stuff plus Neil Degrasse Tyson and George Takei. So much good stuff. | 2.2k
Catalysts by Niobium: Meeting people winds up being a catalyzing event in Jane Foster’s life more often than not. Rec: Well-written Jane, and super supportive boyfriend Thor. I love it when he treats her like a genius. | 2.1k
The Reconstruction of the Mind by Niobium: Jane Foster’s introduction to astronomy doesn’t start with a backyard telescope or a shooting star or the arm of the Milky Way strewn across the nighttime sky, but with an Alexandrine woman named Hypatia. Rec: Jane-centric, and very well done, as per usual with this author. Fosterson is more background, but they have some lovely moments. | 4.6k
Asgardian Cautionary Tales for Young Maidens by Niobium: Jane discovers that Asgardian love stories aren’t exactly romcoms. Rec: Jane and Thor sharing love stories. I audibly squeaked at their cuteness. | 2.3k
the new millennia by hoosierbitch: Thor’s life was measured in centuries, not days. Rec: Post-Dark World, very Thor oriented and introspective. Jane helps him through his grief over Loki. Angst on angst. | 1.1k
the drumming inside her by hariboo: she can feel everyone looking at her, waiting for her to break or give up. they don’t understand. she made a promise too. Rec: oh my god Jane being determined, Thor pining a bit, Heimdall being awesome, and a super sweet reunion. | 1.3k
Starchild by empyrean: One night Jane teaches Thor the basics of Western astronomy, and Thor tries to describe Asgard. Then the Bifröst breaks, and Jane isn’t having that. Rec: Jane and Thor bond over the stars, and Jane doesn’t take it sitting down when the Bifrost breaks. Love the simplicity and the power in this. | 1k
There by Barkour: Jane has found Thor and in the finding, she has gone somewhere she’d never dreamed she’d see. Rec: Jane geeking out over Asgard, plus some really cute banter, and Thor being a gent as always. | 1.9k
Numbers and Lines by Sheeana: Jane Foster visits Avengers headquarters to help install a program she designed, and gets caught up in helping with their latest problem. Rec: Jane and Natasha get some great action together, and the Fosterson is handled well. | 4.9k
Important Meals of the Day by hariboo: or alternatively: Five Breakfasts With Jane and Thor and them feeding their family and friends. Which sometimes lately seem to be the same thing. Rec: domestics! Fluff that makes me want to stay there forever! I love this author’s way of writing fosterson. Also Darcy is so great in this. | 6.2k
Fire in the East by Maat: He finds that there are sweeter things than mead and glory and the fierce bright colors and rich textures of Asgard. Rec: Best Thor-being-on-Earth-longer fic that I’ve read. Short, poignant, sweet, and painful. This is beautifully written and left me wishing this was how the canon story could have gone down. | 1.1k
Few So Generous by galaxysoup: After Odin falls into the Odinsleep, Frigga takes up her husband’s spear and the rule of Asgard. Rec: Jane and Thor from an outside perspective, and a different version of events. Though the focus is not on fosterson outright, it is still a very good fic. | 2.7k
we fall like stars by jadeddiva: All that is left of him now is the extra chair pulled up to her makeshift fire pit, which she never sits in and hasn’t had the heart to move. Jane, and the search for Thor and a greater understanding of herself. Rec: A character study of Jane and how Thor affected her life. Lovely and poignant. Fluid writing style. | 3.1k
Not "Functional” or “Elegant” by Niobium: Jane Foster has worked some bad jobs in her career; working with Stark Industries’ R&D is a vast improvement. Rec: Jane-centric, and gives her a great backstory. She and Thor are adorable as always. The author clearly respects Jane as a scientist, so that shows through a lot, which is amazing. | 1.6k
Jane Foster’s High School Reunion by Niobium: Jane Foster has a high school reunion to go to. Rec: Jane and Thor are adorable. Thor is a gentleman, and Jane gets to laugh in the face of a jerk. Very satisfying. | 5k
Nature and Nurture by nayanroo: What’s better than solving a physics problem that may well get you another Nobel Prize nomination? Having a baby on the same day. Rec: Part of an amazing series (full rec with multichapter fics below) but can be read as a standalone. Featuring pregnant!Jane and adorable and far-too-accurate expectantfather!Thor. The fluff is lovely. Features all of the Avengers with some lovely domestics. | 7.4k | Part of in progress series, The Kingsverse
don’t we all want happy endings? by hariboo: Thor is thinking about Jane, Steve cares (because Steve has Feelings about Lost Lady Loves*), and in the end it’s a team effort. Rec: We get the closure on Thor contacting Jane after the events in New York. Sweet and painful and just lovely. | 3.4k
Legacy by me: A generation later, a budding social scientist tries to figure out Jane and Thor. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. Both Jane and Thor have passed away in this fic. | 2k
Rated T
**Heed the Signs by igi_pigi: Thor wakes up from a nightmare. Is it just a dream, or something more? [Post Thor2, Pre Thor3.] Rec: A heavy, meaningful setup to a Thor 3 that never was. | 4.8k
**Heartless by igi_pigi: Everything reminds her of him, it's funny. Wherever she looks, whatever she thinks of, usually and especially to get her mind off him, will eventually lead to him. [Set the night before Jane's date with Richard in Thor2.] For Day 6 of Fosterson Week - 'things that make you think of them' Rec: A really interesting and fabulous rumination from Jane about Thor’s impact on her life. | 1.4k
**Her Healing Touch by igi_pigi: Jane doesn't really realise that the Aesir are a bit relaxed when it comes to physical hurt. And freaks out over what Thor thinks are just petty bruises of battle. Ending with a little confession from Thor. [Set after Thor2] Rec: A neat take on Asgardian culture, love the way Jane’s care connected to Thor’s past. | 2.5k
**Qeryana by Domenika Marzione (domarzione): Thor and his efforts to live on Midgard, as opposed to just defending it. Rec: Thor’s visceral struggle of living in a culture not his own, but is ultimately still hopeful and positive. | 3k
**First and Foremost, Red by RC_McLachlan: There's a reason Jane and Thor break up. It's not a great one but it's the right one. In the year that follows, Jane carries on, doesn't win a Nobel Prize, defeats Thanos and saves the universe, and finally allows herself to be a little selfish. Rec: YAAAAAS I want ALL the Jane Saves Everything in Infinity War/Endgame fic. ALL OF IT. It’s so satisfying and good. | 9.7k
**Gangráðr, Faðmbyggvir Friggjar by tsukinofaerii: Less than a week before her wedding, Frigga warns Jane of ancient Asgardian rituals she and Thor must undergo before her marriage ceremony. Jane and Thor call on their friends for help as they face what might be the challenge of their lives. Rec: Just an absolute fucking delight from start to finish. Hilarious and amazing. Absolutely the best of the 2012-era Avengers fics. | 19.1k
The Courage of Stars by always_a_queen: Half the universe turns to dust. Thor goes to find the one person who is his whole universe. Thor/Jane Post-Infinity War and during/after Endgame. Spoilers for both movies and Ragnarok. Rec: god this is so heartbreakingly perfect. A wonderful fix it that gives a perfect little taste of what we might’ve had if Jane had been rightfully included in these movies. Jane does pass away at the end of the fic. | Content Warning: Major Character Death | 4.3k
Family Values by shinyopals: ‘It would have been kinder to leave me dead,’ Loki informs her one day. Jane Foster, who’s just revoltingly kissed Thor goodbye, told him she loves him, and called him a disturbing pet name, snorts derisively. ‘He brought you lunch; quit whining,’ she says. Loki isn't sure how he feels about his family, these days. Rec: The best take on Loki ever. His relationship with Jane is fabulous, and the interplay between him, Thor, and Jane is AMAZING. What a freakin treat this fic is. Post-Infinity War AU. | 3k
The Second Law of Thermodynamics by shinyopals: ‘What have you done?’ he asks. He still attempts to sound grave, but with Jane it is hard not to give into smiles.‘Done? I haven’t done, well. I mean. I have done some things. But it’s not bad. I was just curious! And nobody stopped me. I mean, they even welcomed me. So. I didn’t do-’‘Jane,’ he interrupts, laughing and leaning down to plant a kiss on her mouth. ‘You are absurd. I missed you. Tell me.’ Rec: Pardon me while I try to physically scream this fic into existence. It’s perfect. Jane loves science, and Thor loves Jane. Post-Thor 2. | 1.8k
Storm Warning by shinyopals: Then he strides to her and presses a kiss to her lips, taking her face in his hands as he does and holding her close. ‘You planned this?’ he asks. ‘Your morning’s work was not astrophysics, then?’She gives a guilty smile. ‘I wanted to, you know, surprise you.’ Thor gets ~romanced. He kinda likes it. Rec: GOD THE FLUFF. THE. FLUFF. PURE AND GOOD. | 3k
Sakaar by MissChrisDaae: Jane's been stuck on Sakaar for a year and a half. So Asgardians are a welcome sight. Rec: A really original way to get Jane involved in Ragnarok. Jane + science for the win. | 1.3k
Lab by MissChrisDaae: Thor likes spoiling Jane. Rec: For the Jane on Asgard day of Fosterson Week, a short and sweet lil tidbit! | <1k
Domesticity by MissChrisDaae: Little moments around Avengers Tower. Rec: I literally gasped in delight with how much this made me nostalgic for the fluffy Avengers Living in the Tower fics of 2012. | <1k
The Prince(ss) and Me by asoulofstars, MissChrisDaae: Prince Thor of Asgard just wants a little time to feel normal before he has to marry the mysterious Princess Jana of Ameos. So, he runs away from home and enrolls at Harvard University as Donald Blake, where he meets Jane Foster. Jane is clever, kind, and everything he wants, but can never have.Princess Jana of Ameos has spent her whole life studying incognito, getting the best global education possible under the alias of Jane Foster and trying not to think about romance, or the fiancé waiting for her back in Europe. Then Don Blake comes along and throws that plan out the window. Rec: A funky Modern Royals AU. Charming in some nice ways, and I like the slow-building tension. | 17k
Misunderstandings by writerblocked: She looks up at Thor, who grins warmly at her, and looks at their surroundings again. “This isn’t my apartment,” she says. Thor’s grin grows wider. “I know,” he says back. Rec: Newlywed!Fosterson fluff. | 1.8k
Turtures in Aeternum by shinyopals: ‘Legend tells that some unlikely souls are known to pause in their work for reasons of leisure,’ deadpans Thor. ‘History does not say what trials they faced.’ Asgardian science is giving Jane a headache. Thor persuades her to take a break to see some of the sights with him. Rec: Asgardian worldbuilding (literally) via Fosterson field trip. I love everything in this. | 5.5k
Five Times the Bad Guys Interrupted Thor and Jane's Date Night and One Time Tony Freaking Wishes They Had by shinyopals: ‘I have told Steve,’ Thor says to Tony as he’s leaving to go back to his rooms, ‘but I thought I should tell you also. Jane and I plan to institute the ritual of ‘Date Night’.’ As always, Thor sounds like someone’s severely uncool father trying to be hip when he uses any slang invented since the Civil War. Tony's been an Avenger long enough to avoid deliberately tempting fate, even if he doesn't actually believe in fate. The universe is just plain cruel. That's why he knows to be prepared for the worst Hydra can throw at them whenever Thor and Jane make evening plans. Rec: IT’S SO FUDGING CUTE. I CAN’T. IT’S CUTE AND HILARIOUS AND PERFECT AS ALWAYS. | 4.7k
Unexpected Arrival by shinyopals: ‘Jane-’ Thor cut himself off, opening and closing his mouth without managing words. Her name on his lips sounded so familiar; warm and deep and like nothing else mattered. An undercurrent of nerves there that she could still hear after all this time, that she didn’t think anyone else would be able to. She wanted to run to him, bury her face in his neck and jump back in time. Back before the break up - not enough time for each other with the universe in peril. Back before the baby. The baby she still sometimes wondered if she should have terminated to save them both this moment. Rec: The angsty and painfully yearning babyfic that you never knew you needed. | 2k
Steadfast as the Stars Above by jdphoenix: It was not meant to be like this. With him so small and weak, fighting every second to find purchase on a tiny world that spins faster than he can fathom. He wanted to be strong for her. Rec: A fabulous use of the Soulmate AU that completely slots itself perfectly into canon. | 8.3k
too poor for silver, i have a copper tongue by venndaai: “Maybe you don't have the perfect words all the time but, you always have something to say, right? You never have to, have to stop and think about it, and you never stumble over your words or anything.” He squinted at her. “I thought such things simply aspects of Midgardian speech, which you know I am not well versed in.” Jane sighed. “They're not supposed to be.” Rec: A story featuring an explicitly autistic Jane Foster. So wonderfully done. Full of empathy and love and kindness and warmth. | 1.3k
Gift by spikewriter: Jane looked at the brightly colored rug on the floor of the farmhouse in the Hudson Valley they were still moving into. “I like it,” she admitted with a bit more enthusiasm, picturing how her six-year-old self would have run screaming around the room in glee at such a gift. Rec: Some post-TDW fluff with bonus Darcy inclusion. | 1.5k
to candle incandescent as you pass by sweetwatersong: The legacy of King Tristan and the Star Queen Yvaine is not a mere tale in Stormhold, a fantastical portion of the kingdom's history. It lives and breathes in the blood of their descendants, in their long lives and graceful aging, in the ruling King Odin and his son, the Crown Prince Thor… Rec: A Stardust/Huntsman/Thor fusion that isn’t so much a full fic as it is, as the author describes, “a sketch.” Still a really lovely read, a great blend of the films. | 5k
Raiment of The Gods by randomcelt: They say the clothes make the man ... or the god. But sometimes, they do the most for his friends. (Or, a tale of all the times someone else wore Thor's clothes and the adventures necessitating such a development.) Rec: A great Thor character piece. A heavy emphasis on Thor + the team which I love. Runs you through the full gamut of emotions in the best way. | 10k
How to Quantify by Rozilla: It turns out Jane has a personal top ten list of favourite equations - and a nice expanse of hot Norse God to write them on. Rec: Super sweet and also contains the phrase ‘who said science never got you laid’ so. Yep. | 2k
this new bravery by hoosierbitch: For alfadorisawesome, who requested Thor/Jane “about to hook up with someone who doesn’t know.” This is my favorite piece so far. <3 Rec: Incredibly well done Trans Jane Foster. I am such a sucker for open lines of communication between partners, and that’s exactly what this is. Thor is incredibly sweet, and this story establishes his very nonbinary opinions on gender which I LOVE, but he still makes an effort to understand Jane’s experience. I love this fic so much. | 1k
The Hammer and the Ice by grav_ity: In the course of her short and mortal life, the heart of Jane Foster has been twice touched by the sons of Asgard. Rec: I adore AUs where Jane was in the Avengers. This is a short flashfic, but really lovely. | 1k
A Royal Wedding by MissChrisDaae and Science_Thunder_Lightning_Love: After three years, ten months, an alien invasion, a cosmic event, and a baby, Thor and Jane finally make it to the altar. Rec: Ridiculously cute fluffies. | 7.5k | Part of the Convergence series
The Thunder God Job by fuzzy_paint: Jane and Thor are thieves. Rec: Oh lawd, the AU I never knew I needed. Beautiful characterization with a rich world they’re placed in. I only wish it was 200 chapters. | 16.2k
there was a star danced by tosca1390: This is the familiar rhythm of her days; the coffee shop until one pm, five days a week, then class and the lab, then home or the library. Here, in her last year with a future dark ahead of her, she doesn’t see anything to change her ways. Jane and Thor, meeting at a coffee shop. Rec: College/Coffee Shop AU. Bless the AU gods. Sly little Shakespeare references. Thor and Jane being cute, sweet idiots. | 6.2k
Proximity Alarm by fayedartmouth: Thor comes back to Earth. Jane thinks it’s great. Except all the times it isn’t. Rec: It’s a great writing style. Jane and Thor are awkward, adorable, and passionate in a realistic way. Them navigating how to be together is a challenge that not all authors can rise to, so this is a great piece. So much yes. | 13.7
Never So Empty by iwillavengeyou: Thor has traveled the nine realms and seen many things in his centuries of godhood. What could possibly make everything seem so empty? Rec: Wow, just no. This hurts. This is not cool. Ow. Ow. Transcends angst and ends up somewhere much worse. Read if you’re into self-flagellation or are making a reclist. I literally yelled “Wow rude” at the conclusion of this fic. Major Character Death | 1.5k
An Ancient Gesture by Niobium: Jane and Thor come up with a tradition for dealing with situations where a social function gets to be a little too much for either of them. Rec: Super smiley, stomach flutter inducing fic. Fluff upon fluff, but also Asgard culture/worldbuilding! Yay! | 2.8k
Five Times Jane Kinda Sorta Accidentally Slept With An Avenger, The One Time She Didn’t, And the Many (Many) Times It Wasn’t Even a Little Accidental by shinyopals: Some people collect Avengers trading cards. Some collect action figures. Jane Foster, almost entirely without meaning to, has them all beat. Rec: If you’re not convinced by that title and summary, I’m not sure I can help you. Hilarious, in character, and kinda cute. | 9.3k
Well Remembered by Rozilla: Jane’s met Tony Stark before. Rec: Cracky and hilarious. | 1.1k
you may end up wanting more from this life by tosca1390: Everything is cold where it was once warm, and Jane is at a loss. Rec: Not sure why I haven’t put this beautiful thing on here yet. Deals with their separation, and a great character study of Jane. Angsty. | 1.6k
The Hearts of Stars and Thunder by MissChrisDaae, Science_Thunder_Lightning_Love: Rec: A Snow White and the Huntsman/Thor fusion. Really great use of characters, and all of the medieval battles and fosterson abound. | 7.7k
You Get One Phone Call by MissChrisDaae: Following the Battle of Manhattan, Jane gets a phone call. Rec: Post-battle strain, but then suddenly fosterson cuteness hits you like a wrecking ball. | <1k
Abs of Thunder by Unknownnobody32: During a flight on-board Stark’s jet, Jane learns how turbulence, pasta sauce, her Thunder god boyfriend, and his rock hard abs can soon become a recipe for embarrassment all thanks to bad timing. Rec: Takes washboard abs to another level. God, this is just too funny. | 2.1k
London, underground by Maybug: Clint Barton meets some familiar faces and has a very bad day hunting the jotunbeast left behind in London after the convergence. Rec: an awesome outside POV on fosterson, plus badass science Jane and her science assistant Thor, and awesome Clint. | 2.6k | Part of the Fosterson Files series
We have loved the stars to fondly by Maybug: Jane and Thor are up to something on the roof of the Tower. Tony thinks he knows what it is, but doesn’t see why he should be the one to tell them to stop. Rec: Outside POV of fosterson. Basically Thor does cute/dangerous things for Jane’s happiness. | 1.8k | Part of the Fosterson Files series
change places by coffeesuperhero: Jane and Thor get in the way of a Stark experiment. This goes about as well as you might expect. Rec: Body swap madness. So many cute moments though, plus some implied sexytimes with swapped bodies “for science.” So much yes. | 3.1k
Slowly, We Adjust by katsumi: Jane Foster leaves the lab on Friday exhausted, overworked, and petrified that she won’t get the grant proposal for her wormhole experiment finished in time to get funding. So, of course she gets rear-ended, because that’s just the kind of week she’s having. Rec: Protective/Worried Thor is best Thor. Reassuring Jane is best Jane. So much angst/cute. | 1.4k
Put a Ring on It by fuzzy_paint: Jane makes Thor a wedding ring. Rec: What it says on the tin. | 3.9k
The Pretty Birds Have Flown by beanarie: "Jane never pukes, not when she first wakes up, not at any other time of day. She has a cast-iron stomach and wicked stable inner ears, and morning sickness doesn’t stand a chance.“ The one where Thor knocked Jane up that night they chilled on the roof, and offscreen Frigga swore Heimdall to secrecy in the interest of protecting everyone involved. The All-Father’s house has a lot of enemies, okay. Rec: Heartbreaking, fluffy, and feelsy. Batten down the emotional hatches. | 2.2k
Jane Foster and the Impossible Library by Niobium: Jane, Darcy, and Thor find a peculiar library, and their afternoon takes a turn for the bizarre. Rec: This one’s wild from start to finish (I say that lovingly), but as always, Niobium delivers on fantastic characterizations. Not super-duper shippy, but so worth the read. | 12.4k | Part of the Jane Foster Works series
Northern Climes by Tyranusfan: Six months after the Avengers saved New York from the Chitauri invasion, Thor must convince Odin to return him to Earth. Rec: Jane and Thor doing cutesy couple-y things. The author captures well the eager awkwardness of a new couple while remaining true to their characters and story. | 4.3k
nowhere to go but up by anthropologicalhands: It is not uncomfortable, waking up with Thor’s arm draped over her waist, their legs entangled under the sheets. It is inconvenient when she wants to get out of bed or, at the very least, look over last night’s data. Rec: So very fluffy it makes me want to roll in it. Adorably domestic, too. Jane at her scienceing finest. | 2.3k
Late Night Waiting by hariboo: Jane didn’t often get home late. Rec: A very sweet and simple Jane/Thor that makes their relationship seem very grounded and real. Also, it is so sweet it makes my teeth hurt, and then I just want more. | 2.1k
Uru by sheffiesharpe: Thor cannot look after Jane, no matter how he wants to. Hogun offers a solution. Puente Antiguo receives another unexpected visitor. Rec: The author makes a really strange concept work brilliantly. Jane and Thor’s pining is frustrating and well-written, and the writing sizzles with unresolved sexual tension. | 6k
Star-Crossed by websandwhiskers: A vignette taking place during "Avengers”, after shawarma, before Thor returns to Asgard with Loki. Thor and Jane have their reunion, and discuss their future. Rec: Jane is an awesome person, and Thor respects the hell out of her. One of the best portrayals of Jane Foster that I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. | 1.7k
The Morning After by fuzzy_paint: "I can’t believe we’re doing this,“ Jane says. "Can you believe we’re doing this?" Rec: Even without much in way of dialogue, Jane and Thor’s devotion is plain. We get a little view of domestics, too. | 1.7k
The Observable Universe by Sarea Okelani (sarea): As an astrophysicist, Jane studies the observable universe for work, but in her free time what she likes to study is a bit closer to home. (Or: Jane has a low tolerance for stupidity. Clint and Natasha take exception to being called stupid.) Rec: Not a ton of overt Jane/Thor, and is mostly an outsider POV on Clint/Natasha, but there is lots of team shenanigans and there is definitely a lot of affection for Thor from Jane’s POV. | 10k
Deal by GreenVelvetCurtains: Jane introduces Thor to the great Midgardian tradition of being made to remove your clothing when you lose a hand of poker. Everybody wins! Rec: I got a huge kick out of this one. Toeing the line of becoming crackfic. Oh, how I wish there was a smutty follow up. | 2k
Before the Fall by verily-thor: Jane helps Thor prepare for Ragnarök. Rec: Oh god, if you’re in the mood for some sadness, come on in here. Tragic without being grotesque, stripping it down to the bare emotions, and two people who love each other more than anything. | <1k
top gun is not a movie; it’s a lifestyle by hariboo: jane and thor got that loving feeling. Rec: an AU that is reminiscent of Top Gun, which is a fab movie. Awesome Jane, and adorable Thor. | 2k
A Brief Introduction to Asgardian Dinner Parties by jonesandashes and pentapus:  This is the first Earth-Asgard bonding opportunity since that time Loki punched interstellar relations in the face, twice, and the king and queen of Asgard are here, and they are her boyfriend’s parents. Jane is absolutely not going to get drunk at this party, is the point. Rec: This fic makes you smile, then laugh, then cringe, then do it all over again. | 4.5k
Destiny, Disrupted by me: Loki never sends the Destroyer to Midgard. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 3.5k
Rated M (these won’t contain the smuts unless otherwise noted)
**The Teardrop by igi_pigi: Post-Infinity War reunion of Thor and Jane. Forewarning - heavy angst. [Set right after the movie] Rec: Angst, melodrama, and desperation ahoy. Contains some smut | 4.2k
all the best distractions by fuzzypaint: They've found a rhythm when they share Jane's lab, Jane with her science and Thor with his own work, and though it is easy to be distracted by each other, usually they're both very capable of avoiding such things. Usually. Rec: Cunniligus in the lab ;) | Contains smut | 1.8k
Patience and Poker by Rozilla: Jane and Thor sneak off from one of Stark's parties for a quiet chat. Nope, just kidding, hot tub sex. Snarky hot tub sex. Best kind. Rec: What it says on the tin and it’s delightful. | Contains smut | 4k
A Deal with the Duke: An Epilogue by hariboo: Thursdays were busy days around the house, but today was the first day of winter much. Thankfully, the skies were clear, without a hint of storm, but the wind was sharp and bit into his cheeks. He was looking forward to a warm meal and seeing his wife, curling around her in bed for rest of the evening. Rec: Historical romance AU. A nice slice of life bit. Contains minor smut | 2.8k
Ray of Light by evieeden: To Thor, Jane shone brighter than any star in the sky. Advent fic for 18th December. Rec: A sweet, introspective fic from Thor’s POV. | 1.5k
just memories to hold by tosca1390: When the dust and light and smoke clears, the roof of Stark Tower is still intact. Jane can still feel the surge of power in her fingertips, thinks she could hear the songs of Asgard, feel the chill of Jotenheim, as the bridge built itself through Yggdrasil, Thor calling her name across realms. And then, a shadow falls over Jane. Rec: A really, really great post-Avengers reunion fic. Contains some smut | 3.6k
set with the stars by hariboo: jane tries to teach thor earth’s stars. tries, being the operative word. Rec: Jane and Thor getting distracted by each others’ sexy is my favorite thing. Contains some smut | 1.5k
It Could Be Sweet by hariboo: Jane and Thor traverse their last year of high-school. However, they didn’t expect it to be together. Rec: I am not a big fan of high school AUs, but if they float your boat, this is definitely worthwhile. Contains some smut | 7.8k | Part of Let’s Be Young Forever series
Thunder Whispered Low by Niobium: Rec: I love it when Thor talks about his magic, and the bridge that makes between him and Jane. Contains minor smut | 1.5k
Specularity by Niobium: Jane’s bad day improves significantly with a little reflection. Rec: A great slice of life fic, really, really nice interactions. Contains very minor smut | 3k | Part of the Jane Foster Works series
My Blood is Singing by Niobium: Sometimes Thor pushes a storm a little too far. And, sometimes, the storm pushes back. Rec: Jane and Thor at their domestic finest, with some internal angst and the simple comfort found with another person. Contains smut | 2.9k
All my faces are alibis by agirlnamedchuck: Thor is strong and stubborn and she thinks she could be a good king. Maybe even a great one. Besides she’d never seen herself as queen anyways. Rec: Genderswapped Thor. Fosterson is minimal, but amazing insights into Thor’s character. | 6.5k
Leaving On An Airship by Rozilla: To escape to a better life, Jane Foster, maid to a cruel villainous Baron, must leave her lover and disguise herself. But not before one last goodbye. Rec: *cartwheels into the sun* FOSTERSON STEAMPUNK WITH SMUT AND FEELINGS OH GOD SEND HELP. Contains some smut | 2.6k
Unrememberance by letthesongtakeflight: Before he became the Huntsman, he was a prince. Rec: Marvel/Snow White and the Huntsman fusion. Prequel of sorts to SWatH. Angst on angst. Major character death | 1.2k
steal my heart 'til kingdom come by tosca1390: Her eyes stray over reading upon reading; she thinks she can taste the tang of energy and ozone even now, and that strange sense of pine and smoke that she associates with Thor. Rec: AU post-Avengers where Thor goes to visit Jane who has remained in New Mexico. Yay for a great collision of two characters who absolutely did not prepare for any of this. Contains some smut | 2.1k
fingerprints that leave me covered for days by tosca1390: It is not all lost, to be stranded here. Perhaps, he could make something of it. Rec: Another AU in which Thor is on Earth longer in the first movie. Great development for Thor, and the relationship he has with Jane feels very real. | 5.5k
journeys end in lovers’ meeting by tosca1390: Solitary moments in snow; it sounds conducive to rest, to a time of rejuvenation before her research resumes. Rec: A really cute AU based on the movie The Holiday (which I’ve never seen before). Just adorable holiday fluff wherein Thor is human. Contains some smut | 19k
Bound by Medie: It was ironic that his and Loki’s greatest mistakes had led to her. Rec: Some tame bondage featuring dom!Jane. Contains smut | 1.1k
Rated E (these will contain the smuts unless otherwise noted)
**Ambush by orphan_account: Jane isn't into violence, but there's something about those SHIELD debriefings, something primal and raw about hearing how the bad guys got their asses handed to them by the good guys, something that inspires her to act on instinct alone. Rec: If you’ve got a thing for Thor’s armor.... mmmhmmm. | 1.1k
Is This More than You Bargained for Yet by Anshin Archives: Thor and Jane's first go at sex. Jane's expecting Thor to have a cock, and is surprised when he doesn't. It doesn't take her long to adjust. (Pure porn for the excuse of writing Thor with a vagina.) Rec: Genderfluidity and completely accepted queerness for the win. | 2.5k
When Jane Pegged Thor by waldorph: They raise them slutty in Asgard. Rec: What it says on the tin. Pretty damn hot if pegging is up your alley ;). | 1.4k
Practical Magic by Rozilla: Freya’s flowers can do funny things to you. Rec: Roz is the queen of smut so this is amazing. Kind of a play on sex pollen, but takes it in a totally new, refreshing direction. Asgardian sex magic for the win. | 2.8k
built on the old rivers by fartherfaster: You catch her wrist and delicately kiss the bone of it. “Nothing to be sorry for,” you tell her. She composes her reality in absolutes and theories and the true phenomenal names of things. Colloquial language is not her means of communication. You like her hard lines, her curiosity, her determination. Jane would never call Mjolnir just a hammer, and that puts a small, needy part of you to rest. There is a storm in the desert, and Thor comes to terms with all of his changes. The one where human-Thor has Lichtenberg figures. Rec: Incredibly poignant and the author makes a second-person POV work incredibly well. | 3.3k
Tell Me Something New by hariboo: "Compile the data of the reading we took during Convergence. The gravitational–“ She trails off, can’t finish the sentence out loud or in her mind, her voice catching on the words as Thor’s mouth latches onto her throat. Rec: Cute and hot and perfect because smart Jane is Thor’s biggest turn on. | 1.5k
On the Throne by murdur: His insistence that she should sit on the throne had been in jest and merriment, but the sight of her sitting upon the seat now makes his heart beat quick and steals his breath. Rec: Oh my god, Thor goes down on Jane while she sits on the throne of Asgard. I have nothing else to say. *dies* | <1k
Experience Counts for Something by Rozilla: Jane was surprised at Thor’s new female body- but pretty keen to explore it. Rec: Bisexual Jane and Genderfluid Thor are great. Some hot femslash fosterson. | 2.3k
Just Get In The Van by paxnirvana: Written for a prompt on Anenko’s Bad Sex & Awkward Romance: a comment-a-thon that got away from me. Rec: All first time sex is gonna be awkward, friends, even if you’re Jane and Thor. Might as well enjoy the ride. | 6.3k
close your eyes and count to ten by fuzzy_paint: Post battle, Jane and Thor make sure the other still lives. Rec: Reassurance of safety sex is hot. Sue me. Still manages to be angsty too. | 2.4k
We Woke Up In The Kitchen by hariboo: He didn’t think he could miss someone as he missed her, but there is something singular in Jane that pulls at him and threatens to overtake him. Rec: post-TDW sexies that are adorable and awkward and hot all at once, plus some really nice conversation at the end. This author just really gets Jane and Thor in a way that is always awesome to read. | 3.7k
A Helping Hand by fuzzy_paint: Jane can’t sleep. Thor has a solution. Rec: Some nice, cute sleepy!smut to help Jane to relax and stop thinking. | 1.5k
The Scientific Method by Serious Snugglebunnies: Thor is much too honourable to have meaningless sex with Jane - but will he do it for the sake of science? Rec: Cracky, hilarious, and hot. | 3.3k
A Thorny Situation by GreenVelvetCurtains: Jane has a problem and she’s not afraid to try and solve it. Rec: A hot fantasizing/masturbation piece starring the lovely Jane Foster. | 2.7k
Detours by ancarett: Life is a highway. Jane takes Thor on the detours. Missing moments from the movie. Rec: Some mildly awkward sex which is actually kind of adorable and works out for everyone in the end. Not my favorite smut ever, but worth a read. | 3.9k
Say It’s Okay by theleaveswant: Darcy gave her a sympathetic pout and walked around the table to put both hands on Jane’s upper arms. “Okay. Honey? I know this isn’t your preferred way of handling things, but it looks like you’re going to have to talk with him.” Rec: Big premium on 'consent is sexy.’ Jane teaches Thor how to pleasure her. Not my favorite smut, but worth a read. | 2.1k
Accretion by RC_McLachlan: "You are burning inside,” Thor whines, rolling his hips again, and she rides it out helplessly, eyes rolling back, lungs cramping with envy for air. “Like a star." Rec: A seriously hot look at the simple difference in size between Jane and Thor. | 1.6
Salt On Your Lips by Barkour: The strawberry daiquiri is indeed a drink worthy of adulation, but Thor prefers the taste of Jane Foster. Rec: For it’s sense of fun that comes with the sex, and the pure happiness of two people who simply enjoy being in each other’s company. | 2k
Good Morning by me: Jane wakes up with Thor between her legs.My addition to Fosterson Week’s smut day. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 2k
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year by me: Jane and Thor do Christmas. (Finally.) Tis the season for holiday smut. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 5.4k
Your Highness by me: Jane wants something in bed and Thor is more than happy to oblige. For the first day of Fosterson Week, post-TDW. Rec: It’s not a true reclist without a self plug. | 6k
Not Your Average Star Trek Fanfiction by me: After several years of unresolved sexual tension, Jane and Thor are in quite a rush to rectify the situation. Takes place immediately following TDW. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 3.7k
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call-me-jerusalem · 4 years
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You guys know how much I love this scene. In the past I have even hijacked @hemisphaeric​’s post and wrote meta about it. Now, I wrote a fic. It’s already posted at AO3, but I wanted to share it here as well, so I can attach this pretty screenshot that took me forever to capture, because it’s right before the scene changes, it’s literally the last frame we see.
This fic is what happens next.
Petrichor
Helsinki falls asleep in your arms and that’s why you cannot move.
No, wait. That’s not right. Not Helsinki, no.
Mirko.
You sigh to banish the air from your body. You are now a set of clean, empty parts, empty lungs, empty chest, empty heart. All that room just waiting to be filled up again. You have told him your sins, but you never asked for forgiveness. He acquitted you all the same.
You rest your back against the door so you can hold him as he sleeps. He gave you something when you thought you had nothing else to hold on to.
You know you will be here for a while, so you say his name. Only for yourself, yes, but you say it, quietly. It’s a prayer, almost. You want to know how it feels on your tongue, against the roof of your mouth. This sacred offer.
It’s the only part of him you haven’t tasted yet.
“Mir-ko.”
It’s not that different from Martín, you think. Two syllables, two lives, two lovers who never got to use the words, two broken mirrors. There are so many pieces to be put back together now.
“Mirko.”
He still does not stir, face buried against your chest. He must be so tired.
You wonder if he managed more than a couple of hours of sleep in the last couple of days. You should have known it, come to think of that. You were responsible for him. For them.
For her, as well.
You close your eyes and you can almost picture him sitting by her sickbed, waiting for her to wake up from your mistake. She could make mistakes, he said, but not you.
You wonder if he prayed, then. It didn’t matter if he did, and it certainly didn’t help. Gandía found her first.
Gandía found him second.
And you can’t bear to think about what would have happened if Tokyo and Bogotá had arrived only two seconds too late. You stare in horror and awe at the purple bruises around his neck, scattered where the rope kissed him deeply and slowly, took his breath away.
You thought he would be heavier, here, somehow.
Maybe it’s just the way half of his body lies on the floor, legs curled against yours, chest against your lap, his head on your arms. His beard tickles your naked skin, but you don’t dare move. He must be tired, because he heard your confession, then he cried himself to sleep.
It’s the debris scattered on the floor that bothers you. It stings against your legs, but still, you don’t move.
You try to distract yourself. You try to add up the bullet holes around the room, but you lose count twice before you finally give up. They’re everywhere. They’re on the doors, on the walls, the windows, the floor covered with empty shells.
Like a beach after the hightide, a paved street after a hailstone storm.
The air is heavy with wood dust and it dances before your eyes. You can’t see very well, but it feels familiar.
You remember being inside a cathedral with Andrés, on your first time in Europe. Maybe it was Notre Dame, or Cologne, or la Sagrada Familia, it does not matter now.
He was the artist, he knew the stories behind each fresco, and you only wanted to see where the cornerstones were laid. Now he’s gone, so he won’t care if you don’t get the place right for this metaphor.
It’s the stained-glass you think about, anyway. How it filtered the sun into beams of coloured light.
You try not to breathe in the dust, afraid it would fill your lungs and pierce you from within. You close your eyes again and try to remember the cathedral, the light, the mass, the singing. You can’t help thinking about the hymn you all sang not even an entire day before. It feels a lifetime ago.
Her lifetime.
It was her life and you traded it for ninety tons of gold.
It’s seems much better a bargain than twenty pieces of silver, and you think maybe you should go and find a rope with your name on.
But you cannot move, because you don’t want to wake him up. He’s had enough. He has lost enough.
“Mirko.”
You say it again, a little louder this time.
You wonder if she knew his name. You never heard her say it out loud, but after two years of traveling together, she must have known, surely? He must have told her. She was in love, after all. Can you be in love with someone you don’t know completely?
He could.
He said he knew you from the beginning and you can’t help wondering exactly where, when... how? How did he find out? What gave you away?
Was it something you said? Something you did? Something you let slip in one of those nights you let him have you?
After the chapel, you promised yourself you won’t let it happen again. If no-one knew you wanted them to stay, maybe it wouldn’t hurt that much when they walked away, too.
Maybe someone told him. Maybe he heard something during all those months before the Mint... but before you can entertain that idea for too long, though, you chuckle. Andrés would never have admitted he failed.
Not even Sergio knew, not the whole story, surely. He certainly didn’t know about the chapel. He lacked most social skills, our Professor, but he was never a cruel man. Would he have made you sit there for two months and stare at his brother’s face if he knew?
Oh.
Maybe that’s how he found out.
He must have noticed the way your eyes avoided that space on your left, how your voice faltered, sometimes, when you talked about the plan, the times you tried to make justice to his favourite bits and pieces, when you tried to not let it show, every time you tried to compensate, to fill up the space that used to be his.
How could you keep singing by yourself a song written for a duet?
It hurts, still, but when you close your eyes, it’s her face you see, shoved through a door, wood splinters like a crown of thorns. She was in pain.
Somehow, you knew she wouldn’t make it. You knew every word of that hymn. Your mother used to sing it in the choir, but Gandía stopped before the third stanza. It was an important one.
There, that’s how it goes:
You know what I have In my boat there is neither gold nor swords Only my nets and my work
He told you she volunteered first. How she agreed to melt gold to help the family she never had, but that was not her dream, nor her abducted lover, nor her mistake. You all send her away in a wooden box.
It was the same one the Browning was brought in.
And you cannot forget there were tears in his eyes, when you pressed the button to close the doors, when he put down his harmonica. There were tears in his eyes when he restrained himself and didn’t shoot Gandía. There were tears in his eyes an hour ago, when he offered you his name, his losses, his future.
And what did you give him back? If he already knew who you are, you didn’t offer nothing but a name to put on it.
“Martín?”
You can’t say exactly when your silent tears turned into ugly sobs, when your whole body began to shake. You never meant to wake him.
He disentangles himself from you and he stares at you, a hand on your face.
You try to focus on him, but your eyes deceive you and your tears blind you, and still, you can tell he looks like he knows exactly what he sees. He presses a kiss against your forehead, and you bury your face in his neck, taking it all in.
You think he smells like blood and gunpowder and the air does not feel so heavy anymore.
Maybe it rained and washed it all away.
Tú sabes bien lo que tengo, En mi barca no hay oro ni espadas, Tan sólo redes y mi trabajo. Pescador de Hombres
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Comfort Crowd
Another song fic inspired by Conan Gray
Slightly obsessed with his album at the moment.
I've also posted this on my AO3 account.
Masterlist
............................................................
It all hurt. Saving Paris, hunting for Hawkmoth, helping her parents at the Bakery, trying to maintain designing, managing school and the drama of its social life. On top of that she was now the Guardian.  
Marinette felt like she was drowning. All the responsibilities and pressure were starting to cause cracks, but with Hawkmoth still at large she had to keep on smiling. Sticky taping the cracks together.  
Tikki, with the help of Kaalki, decided to get her in contact with a previous user, Hippolyta, Queen of Themyscira. Which ended up with Marinette getting support from the Justice League. The help she received was overwhelming from training to detective work, but she still refused to lift the box of suppressed emotions. 
Her detective training was mainly with the known “bat fam”, where she connected with them all in different ways as she trained with them. It was Red Robin, though, that she connected with most. He seemed to be one of the few who understand the conflicting pressures she felt mounting on her and didn’t add to them. Plus, their love of caffeine helped them bond. She much preferred tea, with tea ceremonies as a sort of mediation ritual but understood the draw of coffee and instant gratification. She had mentally adopted him as her “big brother”.
With the help of Red Robin, Marinette’s “stalking” board currently now held all her thoughts, ideas and suspects, with evidence, on who Hawkmoth could be. Under his guidance she had finally narrowed it down to the one and only Gabriel Agreste.
“Tikki, it has to be him, right?”
“hmmm, it does look that way Marinette” Tikki replied hovering in front of the board “You were right with your initial suspicion, though I’ve never seen a user to ‘akumatise’ themselves before. How do you want to tackle this?”
Depending on how she tackled this, Marinette knew, could have catastrophic impact of so many people.
“I don’t know Tikki, I... I’m not sure what the best way to tackle this to be? What if I do this wrong, what if I'm wrong about this and make everything worse.... what if... ”
Tikki looked at her holder pacing around her room. Crumpled pyjamas on, messed up pigtails and all. Tikki saw that Marinette needed some grounding. The catastrophising thoughts that were spiralling were obvious to see, and her erratic and chaotic behaviour becoming more pronounced. By the end of this, Tikki knew her holder and guardian would be able to weld Plagg just as well as she welded the miraculous of creation. A balance of creativity and chaos.
To stop Marinettes swirling thoughts of disaster growing, Tikki grabbed her phone and dialled Tim before dumping the phone in Marinette’s hand.
“...Hello...”
Marinette blinked at the unexpected voice drawing her out of the messy thoughts.
“Tim.... I’ve worked out who HE is”
“Bean? Congratulations! Knew you could do it. You had all the potential right there. All you needed was to be pointed in the right direction and how to refine your techniques. So, you going enlighten me who it is?”
Marinette paused. Tim knew most of her hypothesis as last time she visited she had gone on a rant. Sighing, “My original suspect before I was ‘encouraged’ to drop it”.
That had hurt. Being guardian allowed her access to work out who her partner was. She still hadn’t figured out how to tell him she knew, mainly based on how he behaved inside and out the mask. Adrian was naïve to the world and expected it to be ‘perfect’ outside his ivory tower, like a fairy tale. She understood now why he didn’t want it to suspect his father originally. It hurt that he didn't trust her reasons but understood the emotional draw of family. Again he didn't like "Ladybugs behaviour in drawing in “external help” but accepted it when she had spun that it was for her mainly and for him if he chose to. It hurt he had rejected that. That he still trying to live in his “ideal world” and force things to conform to that view. That he was the "perfect superhero", her needing help didn't support his dreamscape either but framing it as needing a "yoda" seemed to help.
Her thoughts derailed again, drifting from the present.
'Why did everything have to hurt her!? Why was everything against her?! Why... why is it always her having to pick up the slack and have to change... Why isn’t she enough?!?!!'
“Did you want to switch to facetime Bean?” Tim enquired. He could hear in her voice that she was cracking and needed a visual to confirm.
“...kay...” was the response he got.
Tim could see the dark bags under her eyes. The gaunt look she was sporting. Her whole body was screaming she was breaking. He really didn’t understand how her parents hadn’t noticed, but then he knew she was good at deflecting so was probably hiding it sufficiently for them and they were believing her surfaces responses that she was ok. rather than digging deeper. He doubted that they wanted to admit that she was struggling as wanted her to tell them rather than having to probe.
“Talk me through your thoughts Bean. We can work on a plan and I’ll call a team up so we can sort this problem out once and for all”
Taking a deep breath Marinette, suppressing the hurt and pain, launched herself into talking in semi coded strategy mode:
“Well, with a big final display and reveal could occur, but the impact on the company. The workers and families would be victims and it catastrophic to so many if the company tanked. The fall out would have so many knock on affects to so many people across Paris. There is also the risk that if it goes wrong well... everyone could see that it went wrong... Their hope stolen and be used to make the situation worse” taking a moment to ponder alternatives “Another solution would be stealthy solution with no witnesses and collecting ALL the missing items without a reveal. An issue with that would be that would be that others would not be aware that the end has occurred. The anxiety of waiting for an event that will never come, that would impact everyone... Plus, there would be no justice so to speak and could cause anger... if... when they decided that it wouldn’t happen. I... I know that there are porbably other alternatives, but I...” Frowning she stared into space “I want justice, but I think I just want it to end more...” she whispered looking at the phone and at Tim.
Tim could see the exhaustion in her eyes. He understood and felt for her. He subtly sent a message to his family to say that they were heading to Paris, NOW. Even through the small screen he could tell it didn’t matter what he said currently she would be doing something soon. He just hoped she would hold off till when he arrived.
“I’m tired Tim...”
This hurt that I'm holding's getting heavy
But I'ma keep a smile on my shoulders 'til I'm sweaty
Begging on my knees
Screamin', someone come and help me
But by the time they're there
I've already hid the body
By the time the Bat Family arrived in Paris, there seemed to be celebrations going on everywhere. Tim first thoughts were ‘What had Bean done’ along with ‘was she ok’. While the rest of the family settled into the hotel before they went out to investigate the celebrations, Tim dumped his bags and practically ran straight to the bakery.
Finding Marinette’s parents at the counter, he asked if Marinette was in. They looked at him before he was ushered up and into their home without a second glace. Tim was shocked, he could really tell Paris was nothing like Gotham. That they didn’t know him and was allowing him into their home. To see their child. He was a stranger to them!
Tim found Marinette curled up in the tiniest ball possibly going on her bed.
“Hey there Bean. I was going to ask if you’re good but the answer is pretty clear as a no. Is it ok if I come up and give you a hug instead?”
Marinette, slowly unfolded a little from her ball to gaze at Tim. It took a moment for her to process and to provide a shaky nod along with a croaky “hug”. Tim climbed over and wrapped her up.
Taking a moment for them both to settle Marinette slowly told Tim what had happened.
“I snuck in using Multimouse merged with others. I paralysed them while they slept and stole the miraculous. I searched the mansion for any traces linking to miraculous and took it all. With the Kwami’s help I erased all their memories of Kwami, miraculous and being involved.”
Pausing though before continuing “There was a fair bit of artifacts to collect. The worst thing though” she had to stop to collect herself again. Her voice wobbling again. “Mrs Agreste is hidden beneath the mansion in a secret chamber. He was willing to destroy Paris, the world, because of grief....” her breathing was getting unsteady, but she continued “Her soul has gone, the only thing he was preserving was an empty shell. If he had wished for her back it.. It.. She would have been a zombie, a shell of herself and not what he would have wanted. What if... what about... what... It would have been for nothing.”
Resting for a moment before continuing.
“I sort of left an anomalous tip for the police to search his building to find her. So, she can finally rest properly. Paris is celebrating as I used the fox miraculous to stage a ‘final show down’ with illusions. Paris witnessed the demise of Hawkmoth, I had him threaten Ladybug, they saw Chat “cataclysm” him, for the pair to take the miraculous and for them all to disappear. I...” she suppressed a sob. “I hope this truly is the end of it all and Paris is free”
My breath's gettin' short and I'm unsteady
Wellin' up in tears as I lay upon your belly
Telling you I'm fine
I don't really need nobody
But you say through a sigh
That I said that lie already
The pair stayed curled up together for an hour or so while both processed what had happened. Tim’s phone was buzzing with messages from his family as to where was he, how is Marinette, are they ok, and finally to meet them at the hotel, eventually he was able to convince Marinette to come with him. It took a while then as he had to work on prying her off him to get ready to face the world.
When back at the hotel Dick immediately wrapped Marinette in a blanket and a hug dragging her to the sofa so he could smother her in reassurances. Tim had been cryptic in his responses to their messages, but the meaning was clear. It was over and now Marinette was finally crashing in a sea of emotions but refusing to release them. Curled up against him, all he could hear was “I’m fine, honest” or a “I’ll be ok” and a “You don’t have to be with me” then a “I don’t really need nobody anyway” through tears which escaped despite how she tried to stop them running. Dick responses were always “shhhh”, “you will be eventually”, “we’re here” and “you’ve said that lie already”.
I just needed company now
Yeah, I just needed someone around
Yeah, I don't care what song that we play
Or mess that we make
Just company now
Comfort crowd
Comfort crowd
Bruce watched as his family dotted on the broken girl for the fortnight they were in Paris. He made sure to introduce himself and the boys to the girl's parents. He had already created plans mentally to help the girl recover, ever since he first met the child really. She was practically family now anyway. Now he needed to set them in motion.
The boys had taken to making sure Marinette was never alone. Playing loud Jagged Stone music while playing video games. The Dupain Chengs attempted to teach the boys to bake. The flour fight which occurred immediately had them reconsidering the idea quickly. Sabine and Tom could see the boys cared for their girl, and glints and sparks of her former glory could be seen at times with them around.
When Bruce asked Tom and Sabine if Marinette could join them for a break from Paris, they took a moment to consider before agreeing. They didn’t want to send her away but deep down knew she wasn’t coping in Paris. She still suppressed her emotions, the engrained behaviour from grown up with Hawkmoth around. As much as they didn’t want to admit it, she really was a shell of her former self since Hawkmoth rose. They could see that she needed time to breath and not worry about emotional fall out. None of Marinettes former school friends had visited since the downfall of Hawkmoth. Marinette held them, everyone at distance, since the "Lila" incident. These semi strangers though, they insisted that they were there for her. She seemed to seek their comfort particularly the second youngest.
We rot, thinkin' lots about nothing
Yeah, I could spend a lifetime
Sitting here talkin'
And even if I cry all over your body
You don't really mind
Say you like your shirt soggy
In Gotham, Marinette hid out in the library with Jason when it all got to much. Jason would read extracts from novels to the lonely girl. They would theorise what the author was trying to convey, debate about nothing. And when needed something else took to teaching her to shoot.
Damian had taken to training her. Using the physical work out to work out her anger against dummies and training in martial arts for grounding. The sessions ended up with sweaty bodies with anger some finally being released and slowly subsiding. If there were tears, mixed in with the sweat no-one said anything.
Dick took to training her to “fly” in trapeze and acrobatics. A new release for the nervous energy she held on to. Or wrapping her up in blankets and watching Disney or Studio Ghibli to still the frantic mind.
Cass took to teaching her ballet. To speak through dance, let her hurt out in a non-verbal way. Cass understood it was too soon for her to speak of the horrors she had seen. That to speak them would make the surrealness of the past few years real.
Steph and Marinette took to making waffles together. Steph insisting that they were the “gods food”, Tikki giggled at that and was a happy taste tester. While Marinette used the process of baking as a therapeutic ritual. The fact Steph had tricked Marinette into eating more and have some form of selfcare made Tikki so happy.
Late at night when sleep often escaped her. Marinette would creep down to the kitchen to find Tim.
One particular night when she crept down to the kitchen.
“Did I do the right thing Tim?” Marinette queried. Nightmares still plaguing her mind. The Parisian news stated this week that the Police had investigated a rumour that Mr Agreste had murdered his wife. Upon a tip to search the premises had found her body. He had been taken into custody with no bail pending further investigate. Adrian was basically parentless. And the company was now under scrutiny.
Marinettes guilt was eating her as she had effectively caused his downfall and the fallout she was trying to avoid with the company had failed as it too was being investigated.
Tim wrapped her up in his arms and at last the damn broke and she cried. Marinette finally let her self break.
“It's ok Bean. Shhhhh. I’ve got you. You’re not alone. We’re here for you”
Tim stroked her hair and hummed while she cried for all her worth. Dick entered and instantly went to grab a blanket to cover them with. Dick and Tim slowly manoeuvred themselves out of the kitchen into the living room where all the family could curl up and around the small broken girl.
When she was less hysterical. Tim lifted her face to tell the girl, “You did what was necessary, it would have happened either way. AND it's not your fault. You did not make the decision to break the law. You aren't responsible for everyone!”
Marinette gave an uncertain look before saying “I’m sorry I ruined your top” Tim laughed “I don’t mind a soggy shirt” causing a wobbly smile.
From that smile the Wayne's could tell she was starting to heal.
Yeah, I just needed company now
Yeah, I just needed someone around
Yeah, I don't care what song that we play
Or mess that we make
Just company now
Comfort crowd
Comfort crowd
When Marinette returned to Paris, the numbness started to creep in again. She wanted to miss her found family but as soon as a negative feeling cropped up, she went back to suppressing them. Paris felt, well, it didn’t feel. The engrained behaviour wouldn’t stop while she was there. She didn’t want to connect with those she went to school with. She went through the week like she was a zombie, there but not. Talking to the Wayne’s was the highlight she looked forward to, where she came alive again.
“Mamam” Marinette queried her mother one dinner time, “I was wondering if you and Papa would be ok with me going to university in the states?” Looking down and playing with her food as she worked her courage up again “Being in Paris, is, well its hard. I can’t shake my habits and just, just feel”
Sabine and Tom shared a look, as if they were telepathically communicating with each other.
“Marinette, mon chou, if you feel that is best for your health then of course we would support you” her mother replied. “When you came back from the Waynes you were starting to sparkle again. Your mother and I can see Paris sapping that sparkle again” her father stated. “Do you have an idea of where you would like to study?”
Marinette smiling a true smile. “I was thinking Gotham”
We mess around
And laugh too loud
And make the sounds
We try to hide when people are around
By blood we're bound
Through ups and downs
Through smiles and pouts
Comfort crowd
You can always count on
Yeah, I just needed company now
Yeah, I just needed someone around
Yeah, I don't care what song that we play
Or mess that we make
Just company now
Comfort crow
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Text
Okay, so this is the story I was talking about earlier!
PROLOGUE:
What did I ever do to deserve this.
I don’t want it to end this way.
I’ve had a horrible life. I just wanted something nice for once. I was going to start a family. 
I don’t wanna die.
I don’t wanna die.
I don’t wanna die.
I don’t wanna die.
I don’t wanna die.
I don’t wanna die.
I don’t wanna die.
I don’t wanna die.
No… NO! NO PLEASE NO!
LET ME LIVE!
CHAPTER 1:
“He was found dead, in an alley. He had a hole in his chest and you could see his heart, which had been stabbed. The machete was left behind, you’ll have to go check for anything else that could’ve been left behind.” I don’t wanna go. I was drinking last night and I have a huge hangover. But, work is work, I’ll have to go. “Alright, Miss. Thank you for informing me.”
My name is Alan Brooks. I’m a detective. This case is about the death of a wealthy man  ,Jackson McBriant.
The second I got to the crime scene I had to look to the side so I wouldn’t vomit. The victim’s chest was ripped open, his heart was perfectly visible. I was not ready. Now that I think of it, this could be symbolism. From all my experience, this would be very uncommonly not symbolism. 
It’s his heart. And it is very literally “broken”. Could this be… He might’ve rejected someone.
That someone could have killed him.
CHAPTER 2: 
“Sir, we gathered a few suspects that are close to him. There’s also a witness who heard the screams and went to check the alley.”
“Thank you, please bring the witness here.”
“Of course.”
The witness was a middle aged-man, looked quite normal. No distinguishing features.
“ Hello Mr Rees, pleasure meeting you.” Not really.
“Same here.”
“So, what did you see or hear happen?”
“I...I was walking home, it was around 11 at night. I suddenly heard a blood-curdling scream. I was stuck in place for a second. It was coming from the alley (no sh*t) and I saw the killer. They were pretty tall and were wearing all black. I couldn’t see their hair. They realised I was there and dropped the weapon and ran at an inhumane speed. I fell to the floor and when I looked back, they were gone.”
“ Interesting, is there anything else? Did you hear their voice? Is there any way to know if they were male or female?”
“ No, they hid everything perfectly and not a single sound came from them.”
“ Alright, thank you for the information. You are free to leave.”
“ Okay. Goodbye”
CHAPTER 3:
The suspects were 5 people but ,thanks to the witness, there are now three. Two men and one woman. One of them is the victim’s brother, he is an anti-social man and only ever spoke to his brother. His name is Jonathan McBriant. He looked devastated when the news got to him.
The second man was the victim’s boyfriend. He had a horrified look on his face and could barely keep himself together. His name is Royall Whittaker. The last subject is a woman. She had been rejected by the victim and never forgave him. Her name is Annabelle Leroy. She looked confused and a bit… glad that he had died.
They were all interrogated about where they when the crime took place.
His brother was at home, sleeping. This was confirmed by his neighbours.
His boyfriend was at work, he had to work late.
Annabelle was at work too, this was confirmed by her boss.
CHAPTER 4:
“I’m sorry, I can’t go today. I’m in the middle of an important investigation. I have a lot of work to do. Bye.” My friend was calling, what a bother. Does he think I don’t have a life apart from drinking with him? Well, it’s time to go to the victim’s home to see if anything could indicate who killed him.
When we arrived, it looked… abandoned. Even though the victim had been living there for quite some time now, it looked sad and lonely. It was very clean and had no sign of disruptions. In his bedroom, I found a small pouch. It was full to the brim of a white substance. Could this be cocaine? I smirked. Even this guy, who tried so hard to be a man of respect and no wrong-doings had his secrets. 
One of the cupboards was locked, all the others weren’t. They didn’t have anything interesting inside them. Why is this one locked? Would there be more drugs? A gun? 
Surprisingly, there was an old looking book. I opened it. It's a diary. I started reading a bit. I’ll have to take it with me and fully examine it. 
When I finished reading it, I was surprised. He had led a horrible life in his childhood. But that wasn’t what surprised me the most. His brother, according to the diary, had been very distant  these past months. He had been the most distant ever, on the night before his murder.
CHAPTER 5:
“I’ll have to go question Jonathan over the reason they were so distant all of a sudden. Is that okay with you, Miss?” I can’t wait until that old hag dies and stops being so controlling over what I can and can’t do in this investigation. “ Alright, but tell me when you finished.” I nodded.
“ Could you care to explain why you were so distant from your brother these past months?”
“ How do YOU know that, Mr Detective?”
“ Don’t answer my questions with more questions, McBriant. Why.Were.You.So.Distant?”
“ We had a small fight and didn’t make up. I regret not making up now.”
“ It didn’t say anything about that in his diary.”
“ He has a diary? Why wouldn’t he tell me that he had a diary?”
“ Look, everybody has their personal lives and he didn’t have to say anything about that to you.”
“ But he’s my brother! We used to tell eachother everything! I can’t believe this, why would he-”
“ Look, McBriant. That isn’t important now. Your brother is DEAD. You have to cooperate in this or the killer will NOT be found and justice WON'T be served. Do you understand?”
“ Yes… But, I feel betrayed and alone and… can I have a break outside? I really cannot answer any questions in this state of mind.”
“ Sure, I guess. Don’t take too long.”
“ Thanks.”
The audacity of this little brat. How dare he try to make that discussion all about HIM?! If he won’t cooperate in the investigation, I’ll declare him as guilty and let him rot in jail!
“ I’m back. Sorry for the wait.” Jonathan ran in and quickly sat down.
“ It’s no problem.” It is a problem. A huge problem and I am annoyed to say the least.
About an hour later, I finished asking him everything needed. He was being very irritating and making me very hot-headed. He barely helped and I am sure that he is hiding something. “ Well, I’ll be leaving now. Goodbye.”
“ Goodbye, McBriant.” As he went outside, he brushed my shoulder.
He. Brushed. My. Shoulder.
This kid has brushed MY shoulder. There was enough space for him to NOT touch me. He has been annoying me all day. He did NOT cooperate with me almost at all, and he says he was sad because his brother died?! If he was actually sad, he would be helping me ! I can’t take this. I turned around, looked him straight in the eyes and punched him square in the face as hard as possible. “ Hey, what the hell was that for?!?”
“ You haven’t been of any help ALL day and have the AUDACITY to brush my shoulder, like I was nothing! You’ve been annoying all day!” Wow. He looks angry. “ Well what are you gonna do McBriant? Continue on you merry way? Or punch me too? Come on, I dare you. I swear to God that you’re too much of a wuss to do tha-” An excruciating pain erupted in the left side of my face. I looked up at him. “ Why you little-” I kicked him in the stomach and he was left without breath for a second. He looked back up at me. I froze. There was something in the way he looked at me. It made me want to hide in the corner and not look into the outside world ever again, in fear that I would see that thing again. I felt like a mouse quivering in fear whilst a huge anaconda was about to kill and eat me. It was terrifying. He pushed me to the floor and started stomping my stomach and face over and over again.
 Those horrifying eyes were the last thing I saw before I passed out. 
CHAPTER 6: 
“ What were you thinking? Why would you fight one of the suspects in the middle of an investigation?” I shrugged.
“ It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a good fight. I was annoyed at him and he wouldn’t stop messing around with me.” 
“ You have to improve your childish behaviour. It feels like I’m talking to a pathetic child. Until then, you can’t continue with this investigation. Goodbye, Detective.”
“ Wait, what? You have to be kidding me!”
“ This isn’t a joke, Brooks. Leave now.”
“ Fine, screw all of you! You need me to finish this! I’m the only one capable of doing this!”
“ If you are speaking the truth, Brooks. Then it shall be that way. You will have to become a functioning adult, then you can continue with this.” She opened the door for me and I had no remedy but to go.
This is pathetic. How could I be treated as a mere child? I’m older than that woman! She shouldn’t be treating me this way! I’ll wait a week, then I’ll go back. 
Maybe I can go drinking with my friend.
CHAPTER 7: 
I got to the bar and ordered a beer. Before I got to drink at all, I saw a surprising sight. It was Jonathan McBriant, Annabelle Leroy and Courtney Bailey. That’s strange. They weren’t friends. They didn’t see me. I got up and decided to follow them, before I lost them. They were going to a more secluded part of the bar. Annabelle started talking: “ So gentlemen, how did everything go?” I was very confused. What IS she talking about? My gut tells me that I should record what they are saying. My gut never fails me. I started recording. “ I discovered when the police would go to Jackson’s house and left the pouch full of coke on his bed. They didn’t suspect a thing! They still think that a gang could’ve taken him out! These people are really dumb!” I was surprised. Wasn’t Bailey out of his former gang? I guess he never left… Jonathan started speaking: “ I beat up the detective pretty bad and everybody else in the police department thinks that I was defending myself. Hell no! I was having the time of my life! It was the funniest thing I had seen all week! What about you, Annabelle? What have you done all week?”
“ I have cleared all type of evidence that could point fingers at us being the killers of Jackson McBriant and that means all type of person that could’ve gotten in our way. We will get away with this, gentlemen.” I stopped recording. I got up and left the bar. I didn’t even pay the bill.
When I got home I didn’t even take my clothes off I just jumped on my bed and fell asleep.
Finally, I knew who had done this. 
Jackson can rest in peace.
CHAPTER 8: 
“ I’m back and I know who killed him!”
“ Weren’t you not allowed to continue the investigation?”
“ Look, Miss. Is it really important now? I know who the killer is. That doesn’t matter anymore!”
“ But-”
“ Shush.”
I showed the recordings to the other people working on the case and we arrested the killers. It will be taken to court and I hope that they are given the necessary amount of years in prison to pay for their crimes.
This was honestly one of my most interesting investigations. It was not because of the victim. It was not because how he was killed. It was not because of the suspects.
It was because of the killer’s eyes. Those cold, ghastly eyes. I have not yet seen eyes as horrid and petrifying as those.
And I hope I never will.
THE END
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