#they should invent parents that are normal and kind and say nice things and don’t make their daughter cry 👍
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parents exist to take u on trips to guilt town 🚦🚏🚗
#i’ve refrained from venting here as much as possible but today has been so bad#my whole life has been them treating me like dirt and me excusing it with ‘well they’re going through a lot’#my dad accused me of neglecting the dogs as soon as they got home today#when i’ve been getting up every single day at the same time to feed them and refill their waters#but because he didn’t see me on the camera on the side of the house that means i didn’t do it?? and i could have killed one of them??#but i explained that i don’t feed him in an area the camera can see and i used a different bowl for water#bc the bowl they left me with was mossy and gross#but he says i’m lying and he can’t trust me and that he doesn’t ask much of me and ???#it’s just so mean. i didn’t do anything wrong. i know i didn’t. i don’t deserve to be yelled at#it’s like whiplash because last week they said i was perfect and i did a good job#they should invent parents that are normal and kind and say nice things and don’t make their daughter cry 👍#anyways.txt#delete later
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Say Cheese and Die
Like a skeleton at a barbeque, I rise from the dead to bring you a truly iconic Goosebumps entry: Say Cheese and Die.
So, a few of things about this one. First, it has the best title of any book ever published. Second, it has the best cover of any book ever published. (The Jacobus cover, that is, not the new one.) Third, the main character was played in the TV episode and also in my brain by a young Ryan Gosling with bad hair.
This is a story about cameras and about how cameras are very scary, or would be if they caused people to disappear. It starts with a group of friends sneaking into an old, abandoned house, a time-honored kid pastime that only occasionally results in evil cameras. Now, the thing about this house is that it’s not actually empty; a homeless man named Spidey lives there, which to their minds only makes the house spookier. (Spoiler alert: there’s no Home Alone 2-esque plot twist revealing that Spidey is actually a nice, not-scary guy.)
The camera they find in Spidey’s basement is, in the show, an obscenely large and clunky prop that doesn’t look like a camera at all. It looks like if a toaster achieved its lifelong dream of becoming a spaceship, but didn’t achieve it super well. It has dragon ears, you know, the sort of ears that would be on a dragon? And weird stubby wings with lights on the end, the purpose of which is inconceivable to the human mind. It’s absurdly top heavy and you have to hold it in the least comfortable way an object could possibly be held. In the book it doesn’t say it looks like all that, but it also doesn’t say it doesn’t; I recommend imagining it that way because it’s much funnier.
When protagonist Greg (post-Mickey Mouse Club, pre-abs) takes pictures with this goofy-ass camera, the pictures come out wrong: This photo shows his friend Michael falling over a railing, but Michael didn’t fall until after the picture was taken. That one shows his family’s shiny new car all busted up. When the family takes the car for a spin despite Greg’s objections, Greg’s dad drives like an absolute lunatic and almost gets his entire family killed, so you honestly don’t have to be an evil camera to predict that car’s days are numbered. Sure enough, it’s totaled within days. The man should have his license revoked.
It feels like R.L. Stine kind of runs out of plot right about here, so he just has Greg (future Oscar loser) run around taking pictures even though he already suspects the camera is causing bad things to happen. He also dreams about taking pictures—this is where the skeleton barbecue scene comes from, because much like a skeleton, Robert didn’t have the guts to put it in the actual story. Haha.
Things come to a head, finally, when Greg’s friend Shari peer-pressures him into taking a picture of her with the camera, and it causes her to disappear. She’s gone for two days, and her parents are terrified; this is the only truly harrowing part of this book. She reappears when Greg rips up the picture he took of her. Then Spidey materializes to provide some action and chases them, because the thesis of this book is that cameras are scary but unhoused people are even scarier.
For some reason this, not his dad almost dying like ten photographs ago, is the breaking point, and Greg (one of the white guys in Remember the Titans) and Shari decide to return the camera to the scary house, instead of just, I don’t know, handing it to Spidey the next time they see him. Greg even insists on taking it down to the basement, for plot reasons. Here they’re confronted by Spidey, who reveals his bananas backstory: He was once a scientist, and his lab partner invented the camera, which was at that point I guess just a normal camera that somehow “would have made him a fortune.” Spidey stole it, so the lab partner, who was a part-time evil wizard, placed a curse on it so that it would steal people’s souls. God, science is cool.
Spidey wants to keep Greg (soon to be Sandra Bullock’s boyfriend) and Shari in his basement forever so they can’t tell anyone about the camera, but before he can do so, Shari accidentally takes a picture of him, which kills the man. Greg (soon to be Sandra Bullock’s ex-boyfriend) posits that he died of fright. This is a patently wild choice on Mr. Stine’s part. There’s is a supernaturally evil camera that can (or so Spidey says) kill people, but the one person who dies in the whole book just drops dead of his own accord because the very idea of the camera is so extremely scary that his heart gives out or whatever. I don’t even know what to say.
Obviously the main thing about this book is that it’s shot through with anxiety over unhoused people—not concern for their wellbeing but unease over their physical existence. In popular culture, these people are portrayed as either frightening and gross or, at best, sort of magical, and R.L. Stine managed to do both here. The one moment when you might feel bad for him—when he reveals that he was cursed by a scientist/wizard and desperately wants to keep the camera from hurting anyone—is immediately undercut by his attempting to kidnap two children. Thus Spidey is both extra scary and extra pathetic, and you’re meant to believe that he’s homeless because he deserves to be, because housing is a privilege to be revoked and not a necessity hoarded by the rich, and that his death was perhaps unfortunate but mostly inevitable.
At the beginning of the book, Greg comments that the house Spidey is living in “looks like a haunted house,” which it fitting, because neither the narrative nor Spidey’s neighbors treat him as if he’s a person with a physical form and needs. “I’ve seen that guy around the neighborhood,” comments Greg’s neighbor, making it clear that he thinks of Spidey not as a member of the community but as an entity floating around a place he’s not quite meant to be. This mindset is the reason the kids never consider the morality of breaking into a place where they know someone is living and going through their stuff—the idea of Spidey having or deserving privacy doesn’t even cross their minds. But unhoused people aren’t ghosts, they aren’t hauntings, and they aren’t cartoon villains or inconveniences to be solved: they’re people who live in the same city or town or suburb you do.
If the scary camera represents the fear of being seen, of thinking of yourself one way only for others to see something different, even monstrous, it actually makes sense that Spidey is so terrified of it. When people aren’t staring at them—again, part of being so their being so relentlessly dehumanized is the lack of respect for their privacy—they’re averting their gaze. Kayla Robbins writes that the lack of direct eye contact makes unhoused people “begin to feel as if they were ghosts watching the world but not able to fully participate in it…ignored, dehumanized, and invisible.” Like Spidey, they’re rarely looked at directly, only through lenses—both metaphorical and literal—that work to remove their personhood.
I’m just saying, if Spidey had been given stable housing, he probably would have been able to hide the camera in a better place than the basement of an abandoned, unlocked house. It would have been better for him and for the kids, because then they never would have used the camera. To be clear, though, they also could have avoided using the camera by not robbing people. Honestly, they’re the real villains of this book.
Cover: It’s the best of all time. I want these skeletons to adopt me and then cook me a black bean burger, in that order. 100/5
Scare factor: I can’t even remember the scares because I got so worked up about how Spidey’s character was treated. The skeleton barbeque is decidedly unscary because it rules. The camera is only a little creepy. 1/5
Human decency: I hate these children and I think the evil camera should steal all their souls. 0/5
#if you saw me accidentally post this to my personal no you didn't#goosebumps#say cheese and die#r.l. stine#long post
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Little Storm Cloud
The first installment of my superhero/villain au: Virgil's origin story
Unethical Funding (Logan’s origin story)
Word Count: 846
Rating: Teen
Pairings: minor Intrulogical and Roceit
Warnings: minor swearing, implied child abuse
~~~START~~~
Stupid Roman being on his stupid honeymoon. Usually, Logan would have asked Roman to check out the storm with the weird energy signal, but since Roman and Janus were on their honeymoon — gross — Remus had volunteered.
Of course, Remus had volunteered. There was a storm, Logan thought it looked strange, and Roman wasn’t available, so Remus was more than happy to see what was up. If the origins of the energy source were evil though, then Remus might just let the storm go — he was a villain, what could he say?
Volunteering didn’t mean that Remus was particularly pleased to be trudging across town though. It was pouring for Pete’s sake. (And yeah, Remus could control water and therefore protect himself from the downpour, but that wasn’t the point!)
“You’re getting close to the source of the energy signature,” Logan’s staticky voice came through Remus’s earpiece.
“Lolo, this street is abandoned,” Remus told him. He was in the middle of the suburbs — weird place for evil-doing — in the middle of the day, and all he could see were soaked cars, soaked trees, and soaked houses.
“Storms don’t normally emit these readings,” Logan reminded him. “Something has got to be causing it.”
Remus rolled his eyes but trudged on. According to his handheld scanner — one of Logan’s wonderful inventions — the source was coming from the abandoned lot at the end of the block.
The lot was surrounded by fencing and filled with random things that people abandon in lots — old tires, an antique refrigerator, broken furniture — nothing seemed out of place so far.
“I don’t see anything.” Remus carefully picked through the debris, it could be that someone hid some kind of storm generator here, but there wasn’t much evidence for any kind of nefarious plan. “How long do I have to look before calling it a day?”
“If you’re certain that there isn’t anything then maybe—”
“Wait wait shut up,” Remus ordered. There was a sound coming from the far corner of the lot. The sound was barely audible over the rain, but it sounded kinda like someone was crying. “Lolo, I think something’s here.”
“Why would anything be out in this weather?”
“I dunno, I’ll go find out. Hello?” Remus called. “Is someone there? Are you okay? Do you need help?”
“You’re starting to sound like a hero,” Logan commented dryly.
“Shut it,” Remus hissed. He’d almost reached the corner where the crying was coming from.
There! It was—
—a kid?
There was a kid, huddled against the fence, soaking wet and crying. The kid didn’t even have any protection from the downpour, what the hell was it doing out here?
“Hello?” Remus called softly. He wasn’t entirely sure how to talk to kids, but quiet and small seemed like a good idea.
The kid’s head snapped up. It stared at Remus with wide, terrified eyes.
“Are you okay?” The kid still didn’t answer. Remus tried crouching down to be closer to the kid’s level. “Do you need help? What are you doing out in this storm?”
“‘M not supposed to talk to strangers,” the kid murmured.
“A child?”
“Smart,” Remus commented. “But I’m sure you know who I am. I’m The Duke!”
The kid nodded. “You fight the dumb prince guy.”
Remus preened, extending his water umbrella to cover the kid. “I do! Where are your parents? They shouldn’t let you be out here in this weather.”
“My parents are dead,” the kid said bluntly.
“Oh… I’m sorry,” Remus floundered. “Who’s in charge of you?”
“I am fairly certain that the child is the source of the energy signature,” Logan said in Remus’ ear. “Now that I’m getting a clearer reading, it does appear to be a signature consistent with that of an untrained Atmokinetic.”
“I live in a foster home,” the kid answered, unaware of Logan’s commentary. “They probably won’t notice I’m gone.”
“That’s very mean of them.” Remus frowned, what would Roman do in this situation?
“They’re not very nice,” the kid said. “I don’t like them.”
“If you calm him down then the storm should end.”
“Would you like me to kidnap you?” Remus asked. That might not have been a good choice — and it definitely wasn’t what Roman would do — especially when Logan said he needed to call the kid down, but this kid’s guardians didn’t even seem to care that the kid was missing in the middle of a storm. Remus didn’t want to send the kid back to them.
“Will there be food?” The kid asked with such wide, innocent eyes that Remus’ heart just about broke.
Yep, this was his kid now. Logan better be ready to become a father because this was happening.
“Remus…” Logan sounded just as affected as Remus was.
“As much food as you want,” Remus promised gently.
“Okay,” the kid whispered, finally uncurling himself and standing up. Remus stood too. “My name’s Virgil. I’m eight.”
“Hello Virgil,” Remus crooned. “My name is Remus. I’m old as shit.”
Virgil started to laugh as sunshine began breaking through the clouds.
The storm had ended.
~~~END~~~
Thank you @canvas-the-florist for suggesting Roman and Remus have fire or water powers. I know you probably intended Remus to be fire and Roman to be water, but Fire, Red, Passion those are all Roman-y things. Plus it means Remus can call Roman Prince Zuko related nicknames
I had intended to start this AU with Logan's origin story, but Virgil's story called to me
General Taglist: @royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple
#sander sides#ts sanders sides#remus sanders#logan sanders#virgil sanders#intrulogical#kid virgil#roman sanders#janus sanders#roceit#thursday writes#my writing#sanders sides fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#superhero au
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ED MYTHBUSTING
Eating disorders are NOT contagious! Stop treating them like they are. It’s a mental illness, just like any other...not contagious!
Thin celebrities aren’t The Reason™️ people have eating disorders, although the way thin bodies are presented may cause or contribute to feelings of insecurity or shame about food and the body.
The invention of size 0 and 00 are not The Cause™️ of eating disorders—and they aren’t unrealistic sizes, some people are just small and need those sizes.
That whole idea that we look in the mirror and see a big fat person when we actually look like skeletons?? It’s just not universal, and it’s strange to assume that it would be. I’m sure some people do have that experience, but it’s not universal. My eyes are fine, I can see my body just fine, it’s about feelings—not about what my body actually looks like.
Not everyone with an ED is super skeletal skinny, or white, or female, or able-bodied, or teenaged. Just like everyone else, we come in all shapes, sizes, colors, ages, etc. We aren’t all skeletal, white, teenage girls 🤷🏽♀️
For some reason, in all the fiction I’ve seen about EDs, the girl with the ED has divorced parents with whom she has a rocky relationship? Dysfunctional family situations are a big risk factor and can contribute to stress and disordered eating. But everyone has different experiences and, needless to say (I hope) some of us have good relationships with our parents, some of us have parents who aren’t divorced, etc etc. This one feels particularly harmful though, because it kind of implies that it’s the parents’ fault that their child has an eating disorder because they got divorced.... And divorced doesn’t always mean bad! *EDIT* Divorce can also be very good, as it ends marital conflict that can be traumatic to children and can remove children from a toxic and abusive situation. Unfortunately, this doesn’t erase the trauma that happened before the divorce and doesn’t mean that the divorce itself won’t be traumatic either. Children need love, care, and stability—which they can adequately receive from divorced parents, if no abuse is involved, but sometimes this isn’t provided and the trauma can manifest as an eating disorder.
People with anorexia DO actually eat. Sometimes, we even eat normal, balanced, sufficient meals. Which leads me to...
Not all days are bad days, at least not for everyone. I have an eating disorder, but some days I feel totally fine and normal. Just like any other mental illness...it’s not constant uninterrupted anguish.
“Diet culture” is not The Cause™️ of eating disorders, but it may contribute to feelings of shame about food and the body.
Eating disorders are “about” a person’s relationship with food and their body...but they aren’t really ABOUT a persons relationship with food and their body. For some people, it’s about control, or shame, or gender dysphoria, or fear of adulthood, or purity. For some people it’s about a fear of abandonment, fearing that people will leave you and not take care of you unless you’re sick.
Not everyone with EDs hides their body under baggy clothes! Not all of us feel the need or want to cover up.
Like all mental disorders, EATING DISORDERS ARE NOT A LIFESTYLE CHOICE. They’re complex mental disorders, trust me! No one just chooses to starve themselves, force themselves to vomit, eats until it hurts, or exercise till they pass out. These aren’t fun quirky lifestyle choices.
Not all of us “look sick,” you can be a normal weight and still have an ED. This goes back to #5. I’m olive toned and tan which makes my complexion look healthier than the skeletal, white, teen girl you’re expecting—that doesn’t mean I’m doing great.
Getting up to a healthy weight or “looking healthier/better” doesn’t mean someone in recovery is actually doing better. If they were in inpatient care, they likely HAD to gain weight to get out...this doesn’t mean the mental part of this MENTAL ILLNESS is cured.
On the other hand, being thin doesn’t mean someone, even someone with a history of EDs, isn’t doing okay. Again, and I cannot stress this enough, people with EDs come in all different shapes and sizes. Even if someone is “too thin” and in recovery, it doesn’t mean they’re faking, all bodies are different maybe this is normal for them, or maybe they arent at a normal weight for them but they’re really trying to gain weight and get better. Maybe they’ve broken the ED in their brain and are waiting for their body to follow—don’t invalidate their progress by commenting on their size.
Anorexia and Bulimia aren’t the only eating disorders! There’s orthorexia, diabulimia, binge eating disorder, OSFED, etc. No one is worse than another per se, everyone has different experiences, different severity, and no matter what ED someone has it is always deeply painful and everyone deserves help!
Not all eating disorders are connected to or caused by a single traumatic event or by any traumatic event at all. Everyone has different experiences, and some people are just predisposed to develop eating disorders...
If you haven’t guessed by now there is no single Cause™️ of eating disorders. People have different life experiences, different brains, different habits....
People with EDs are not an enemy to people in larger bodies, fat acceptance, body positivity, etc. That would be like saying that people with depression are an enemy to happiness and positivity, and I think we can all agree that that’s not the case. Body positivity is wonderful, and I’m sure there are far more people with EDs than you think who are strong advocates for body positivity or who want to be able to accept the body positive message but aren’t currently capable because of their disorder.
Having an eating disorder doesn’t mean that you just hate food, that you judge others for eating or what they eat, that you fat shame others, etc. I know a lot of people with EDs who LOVE food and are wonderful cooks. Some people with EDs may feel uncomfortable being around people who are eating, but not everyone feels that way. As with any insecurities, people sometimes project their body insecurities onto others—it’s not a great thing to happen, it’s not fun, but it is fairly normal and it doesn’t mean that someone with an ED is necessarily judging other’s food choices or body.
Treatment and recovery are different for everyone—and they should be different for everyone. It’s wrong and dangerous to administer the same treatment to every person with an ED. People with both Type 1 diabetes and an ED (usually, have been misusing insulin to lose weight) need vastly different care than someone with a different condition, and beyond that different people just need different care. No single thing works for everybody, it would be nice if that was the case though!
Please feel free to keep adding, it’s really important to bust these myths, stereotypes, and misconceptions. Just like everybody else, people with EDs are widely varied and diverse and it’s important that we recognize this to make it easier for people to recognize disordered eating and get help.
Feel free to comment on this post. Are there any ED myths I missed that really bug you? Am I wrong?? Let me know!
#ed recovery#ed#eating disorder#pro recovery#anorexia recovery#recovery#anorexia#mia#bulimia#anamia#bonespo#thinspo#not pro just using tags#pro ana#thigh gap#thin#skinny#rexie
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wyd?
modern au, established relationship, i think nancy's gay
Steve’s on TikTok when the text comes in. He’s doing better lately, good enough that he can get baked by himself and not worry about spiraling. Instead he made a peanut butter marshmallow sandwich and listened to his most recent playlist all the way through like eight times and texted Robin for a while- she’s visiting family, lots of ‘Steve pls come rescue me pls ’- and now he’s on TikTok.
It’s not late-late. But it’s not early. And he knows Nancy and Jonathan are having issues- he heard about it from the kids who don’t get that gossip is not helpful to feelings- but he didn't know they went on a break. Until he gets the text.
10:46pm - 1 New Notification
Nancy Wheeler: Hey
Typing…
Nancy Wheeler: Haven't talked in a while. How are you?
Steve clicks the notif bar. He stares at the text. It’s not like he never talks to Nancy. She’s just not Baby <3 in his phone anymore. Hasn't been for a while. He used to wonder what Jonathan put her as in his phone.
Steve can scroll up to see previous texts- Hey i had a doctors appointment during third did you get the homework outline? And Lucas left his water bottle at our house! Mike has it with him
And, more recently: Happy Birthday! Hope it's a good one :)
But this feels different. This singular ‘hey’ in its own grey bubble kind of puts Steve on edge. He doesn't respond right away, figures he should text Robin to ask if he’s just being paranoid first but- shit she went to sleep didn't she. And while he’s typing out a “Hey when you wake up” message to Robin he gets another notif.
Nancy Wheeler: Jonathan and I are on a break
Then,
Nancy Wheeler: Sorry, I probably shouldn't be texting you haha. Just wanted some company i guess
Steve feels a hot flash of anger. Rolling in his stomach like lava. Jesus he’s too high to be this angry.
He picks up his phone again.
Types out “fuck you” and deletes it and then “thats understandable but maybe you should text one of your other friends” and then deletes it and then types out “why are you texting me we're not friends" and then deletes it and then-
Clicks back, scrolls down, and texts Billy.
You: R u still awake?
Steve gets a response within seconds.
Billy <3: aw do u miss me or smth?
Billy <3: gay
That makes Steve smile. Makes the anger cool down considerably, and he sits up a bit in bed.
You: Yes but also
You: Nancy texted me?
Billy <3: about what
Billy <3: about how she broke up with Jonathan?
You: H o w do you already know that
Billy <3: i know everything. Why’d she text you??
Steve gets another notif from Nancy. He doesn't want to open it.
Luckily, he doesn't have to right away. Billy calls him.
“No one’s home.” Is Billy's opener. “Speak freely.”
“Good evening to you too.” Steve says, relieved to have the sound of Billy’s voice to lean into.
“So what does Wheeler want?”
Steve’s thumb hesitates over the notif bar.
“She said her and Jonathan are on a break and she ‘wants company.’”
“Wow.” Steve can hear poorly concealed jealousy in Billy’s words. “That’s. Wow.”
“Don’t be j-”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Oookay.” Steve laughs a little. He still hasn't opened Nancy’s text.
“Are you going to respond?”
“No fucking way, man-” Steve starts, then another text.
Unread message: I need someone to talk to. I don’t know who else I could ask.
Steve’s brow furrows.
“What happened?” Comes Billy’s voice.
“She, uh.” Steve opens the chat finally. “Hang on.”
You: Hey
You: Seems like you're in a tough spot. Not sure I’m the right guy. Maybe you could talk about it with a closer friend?
Nancy: That’s just it.
Nancy: I don’t have any friends.
Nancy: I have no one else. Johnathon was the last person left I was close with and i fucking blew it. I have no idea what to do i'm lost and confused and i just really really could use someone to talk to.
Typing...
Nancy: Please
“Babe?” Billy again.
“Yeah,” Steve exhales. “Nancy, uh. Sounds pretty bad actually.”
“She reeling you in with that act?”
“I don’t think it’s an act, Bills.” Steve sits up straighter. “Something’s wrong.”
He’s typing out a vague enough response when the next text comes in.
Nancy: I think I'm gay
Then-
Nancy: Can I call you?
I think I’m gay.
That’s. Okay. That’s… something. Something that kind of makes sense now that Steve thinks about it, connects a lot of dots Steve didn't know were floating around but.
Jesus, Nancy must be having a heart attack.
“Billy, I have to call you back.” Steve says, then realizes the kind of push back he’s going to get on that.
“Call me back?” High and mighty already. “You can't just ditch me with a ‘call you back’ when your ex is actively weedling her way-”
“She’s not weedling. She’s not doing well and she has no other friends.”
Silence.
“Please don’t pout-”
“I’m not pouting.”
“Aw,” Steve leans his head into the receiver a little. “If I say you look cute when you pout, will that hurt or help my case?”
“Hurt.”
“Ok, I promise I’ll call you back right after I talk to her.”
“You fucking better.”
Steve says “I love you” before he gets off the phone and is medium relieved to hear Billy say it back.
Steve calls Nancy. She takes a while to pick up. When she does, he can tell she’s been crying.
“You didn’t have to call.” Is the first thing she says. She sniffs right at the end.
“Seemed like you were having. A rough night.” Steve says. Her text hasn't fully sunk in, he’s thinking about all the times she called him crying. How they got more frequent right before the end.
“I shouldn't have bothered you, I’m sorry, you can go.” Nancy’s voice builds a little. She sounds frantic.
Steve can’t really feel soft feelings about Nancy cause all of them just piss him off or ice his blood but. He’s worried.
“No, no it’s-” Then Steve hears the background noise. “Dude, are you driving?”
“I- w- yeah.” Nancy sounds a little defensive.
“Oh my god.”
“I just needed to clear my head! I know I shouldn’t have called it just…”
Steve steeled himself for the words he knew were about to come out of his mouth. No matter how much of a hothead Steve could be (not as much as Billy but still), he was still a total pushover about shit like this.
“Do you. Want to come over?” Steve asked stiltedly. “If you're, you know, already driving around.”
Nancy sounded relieved when she said yes.
When Steve got outside to meet Nancy’s mom’s car’s headlights, it was raining.
“Hey,” was the first thing he said when she walked up.
Looking at Nancy doesn't do much to Steve anymore. Not the way it used to. Not the way looking at Billy does now.
Looking at Billy feels how Steve assumes people in the way-back-when felt when color TV was invented.
Nancy looks as washed out as Steve thinks she feels.
“Hi.”
“You wanna come in?”
Nancy hesitates. “I don’t. Want to impose.”
“It’s raining, Nance.”
She looks surprised, like she didn't notice. “Oh.” then. “Okay.”
Steve steps back as Nancy walks onto the smooth tile right in front of the front door. It’s quiet enough after the door closes Steve thinks he can hear her hair dripping onto the ground.
“So,” Steve says after a bit. “Did you-”
“I’m sorry.” Nancy says suddenly. But it’s not the panicked little “sorry’s” from earlier, it’s a single, earnest one.
“For what?”
“Everything.” More tears are streaming down her cheeks now. “I know I shouldn't have bothered you, I didn’t- I wasn’t a good girlfriend. Or a good friend. I just. I thought maybe I would know who I was if someone else did, but I didn't. And I don’t have anyone else, and I remember when- when you told me you were bi when we were dating and I was weird about it but now i think I was just jealous- because- bec-” Nancy cut herself off, unable to keep going with the tears closing up her throat.
Steve swallowed pretty hard. “Because. You think, you’re gay?”
Nancy sat down on the floor.
“The floors all wet-”
“I know, Steve.” Nancy cut him off gently. He was familiar with the tone.
Steve looked at her, looked at the floor, and opted to sit next to her. The rain was hitting harder on the door behind them.
Nancy didn't seem like she had anything more to say. Steve tried to think of something to ask.
“Why, uh. Why do you think you are?”
“I don’t know if I am.” She said quickly.
“Why do you think you might be?”
She sighed, pushed the wet hair off her face. “You don’t have to talk to me about this. I figure it probably doesn't feel good to hear.”
Steve hadn't thought of that. If Nancy is gay, that means she probably wasn't ever actually into him. Not just after a while, but from ‘go,’ it wasn't the same for her.
“Not great.” Steve admitted. “But. It isn't about me.”
Nancy sighed again. “Why are you so nice?” She mumbled. “Both you and Jonathan.” Then she teared up again.
“I thought maybe.” Nancy started up after clearing her throat. “That I didn’t… feel as much because. I was just with the wrong person.” She glanced sideways, clearly feeling worse with every word. “But. I didn’t. I just. I felt the same. Like something was missing.”
“You always feel like that?” Steve was kind of surprised. “Like, with every relationship?”
“Romantic ones, yeah.”
The rain got louder again.
“I was…” Nancy fought to say the next words. “I didn’t always feel like that.”
“With us?” Steve hopes a little. “Or with Jonathan?”
Nancy speaks a little softer, like it will soften the blow to Steve, to herself. “...With Barb.”
Billy was going to give Steve so much shit for falling for Robin and Nancy since it sounded like they were both gay. He already had gotten shit about Robin. “This is a problem unique to bisexuals.” had been Billy’s quip.
Nancy talked a bit more easily after that one admission. About why Barb's death hit her so hard. About why she felt bad for hurting Steve, how confused she was, how alone.
How she pushed everyone away except whoever held the position of boyfriend because she didn't ever feel right around people. But boyfriend seemed. Normal.
Steve was pretty familiar with feeling like he Should Do whatever was ‘normal.’ His parents weren’t exactly pleased when ‘being bi’ turned out to be an actual thing and not just a family conversation they could keep pretending they didn't have.
Nancy was crying again. Said she was sorry again.
Steve hugged her.
It was pretty awkward. He was trying not to touch her too much and her hair got his sweater wet, but she tucked her face against his chest like she always used to.
Something about that clicked. How hugs had always felt closer for them than kisses. How maybe they had been meant to be friends, and just misread the signs.
Maybe they could be friends now. Maybe.
Nancy pulled away and wiped her nose. “Thank you.”
“Yeah.”
Steve checked his phone to let Nancy fix her face a little and then winced at the sheer volume of messages from Billy that popped up on his screen.
“What’s up?’ Nancy asked, leaning back over.
“Oh, just Billy.”
“Oh god,” Nancy grimace. “He can’t have been pleased I came over.”
Steve opened the messages. “He’s not. But I told him it was important.”
“You can. Tell him.” Nancy said tentatively. “If you want. About what we talked about. About me.”
Billy was gonna get a kick out of this. But Steve felt more somber about it than Billy probably would.
It was weird.
He’d been in Nancy’s shoes. But he’d also been completely in love with her. So at once he was hurt and sympathetic.
But he also felt. Better.
Something about the two of them, Steve and Nancy, always seemed. Unfinished.
This was probably the close out they needed.
“I should call Billy back.”
“Of course.” Nancy looked almost embarrassed. “I can go-”
“Nah, stay a bit.” Steve was standing up, unlocking his phone to a slew of “wheeler has been on my shit list from day ONE” and “i know you’d never cheat like i know that i'm not crazy but my therapist said.” Makes Steve smile at his phone. “‘I'll make you tea or something."
#i just! think nancy is a lesbian#shes not been Great to either of her bfs#so maybe theres a good reason!#nancy wheeler#steve harrington#billy hargrove#steve x billy#billy x steve#harringrove#harringrove fanfic#background harringrove#my fic
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Devil’s Sweet Star (42)
Fandom: Dead by Daylight
Ghostface x Female Reader
Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut
***
Ah... that expression of shock on your face, that lack of reaction... Or at least that frail voice that is yours. Danny couldn't have dreamed of a better reaction from you. We would think we were in a movie, where the girl discovers a terrible secret about her boyfriend. This is actually the case, with one exception: We are not in a movie. Danny watched you, his sneaky smile on his lips, like a cat watching the little mouse in his cage, the lion watching the gazelle, or the wolf devouring the poor little doe that will soon serve as his meal. He was slowly moving towards you, but you backed up against the wall, causing him to stop.
“Surprise, Honey. Happy to see me?” He said with a provocative smile.
“J-Jed? No... I don't believe it. It's a nightmare... or a prank! You can't...” you start to say.
“Can’t what? Being the one who since all this time harasses you every night making you doubt about your loyalty to your boyfriend? I can tell you my sweet little star, that all this is real. But... let's redo the presentations. Jed... never existed. My real name is Danny, Danny Johnson, to serve you.”
“You've been lying to me all this time... But why??”
“Think twice Sherlock. I am... quite wanted in other states. I wasn't going to swing my true identity, to a complete stranger I had just met. And then... there was a good chance... that you have heard of me. But luckily for me... that was not the case.”
“Your office...”
“Want to take a look? since the time you wish to enter it, now that you know the truth, I can show you. Follow me.”
Danny walked past you, while looking behind him to see if you were following him. He unlocked the door of his office and opened it so that you could finally enter it. He saw this expression of surprise on your face again, and this temporary absence of voice made him shudder. Everything went as he had imagined. It remains more than to know how all this would end.
“It's you who... who did all these murders... these innocent people... McKellan and... Hoggins.” You said finally.
“Nice deduction Sherlock. This is me. All those nights when I was inventing an excuse to go out... it was only for that. Spying, stalking... and kill.” Respond Danny leaning against the door.
“And also, to see me as Ghostface. You... you tried... you tried to rape me... and you pretended nothing had happened the next day.”
“And I apologize for that. But I had to... play my role. You would have suspected me too soon otherwise. I had to dissuade you from Jed. Let you accept me as I am. More confident, more... Enterprising then Jed." Replied Danny.
“From the beginning you lied to me. On everything. Your identity, your past, your work... I'm sure this story about this Carla is not real! You invented it or stole it from someone!” you said a little angry.
“Everything I told you about my past... is true. My parents were real assholes. Treating me like a dog. And as for my life with Carla... everything is true. Except one thing: When I learned that Dr. Pheels, the one who cared for her, had let her die, I went to see him one night. I entered through the window. He was in his office. I confronted him with his actions and he... he has denied everything. *You won't be able to prove anything Johnson. No one will believe you, you're wasting your time, Johnson. You'd better leave and find yourself another jug to fill your nights. And if she's sick... think of me. You can touch a small part. * At that time... I took out a knife that I had taken from home... and I slaughtered him like never before. My first murder, the one that made me who I am today. This is where Jed Olsen was born as well.”
“And I would still be there. You won't get rid of me as easily. I've told you before: I'm a part of you now.” said Jed in Danny’s mind.
“That night. You could have killed me. You could have made me yet another victim of your massacres. And yet you left me alive, you played with me, you... persuaded me to kill Hoggins. At least to let you kill him. Why? Why didn't you kill me that night?” you ask calmly.
It's true. He could have killed you that night. It would have made you just another victim and move on after hiding your corpse somewhere. He could have done it so many times... But he didn't. On the contrary, he lets you live, he spends time with you, shares his life and his past as you did with him. By curiosity? that's what he's always said to himself so far... but in the end isn't it for another reason? Isn't it more because he has found, or at least he thinks he has found something he thought was lost forever? And that he wanted to protect at all costs?
“Lying to her won't do much good here Danny. We both know that. Be honest with her. Like she was with you. And be honest with yourself. Believe me.” said Jed in Danny’s mind, leaning in front of him.
“I could have. At first, I confess that I did it out of curiosity, to see how far you could amuse me and I would have killed you as soon as you bore me. But... you were... so innocent. But just as fierce. Like Carla. She was like you, dreams full of heads, with punchlines when it was necessary. And a heart of gold, always ready to help people and do good around her. And the more time I spent with you, the more I felt like I was reliving my life before.” responds Danny sincerely to you.
“Good choice. It's a bit late, but better late than never.” replied Jed smiling.
“Now, that's the question everyone is asking. You know everything. What are you going to do?” Asks Danny to you.
Danny looked you straight in the eye, his smile having sag to make way for a more serious face. He had his knife in hand, ready to use it if you ever try to play the heroes or warn the police. He would like to not do that, but his secret has to come first. Even if it means killing you. He doesn't want to, but he won't have a choice. He no longer has a choice, and neither do you. You could have stopped before, avoided this relationship. It would have been easier for him. But here... it will be the first time for him that he will have to kill someone reluctantly. There is no turning back now. For both of you. This is where everything will play out.
Deep in his mind... Danny knows how it's going to end. There is no chance that you will accept all this. Even if you have shown flaws, he knows that you will denounce him, or try to stop him. If that really happens, so be it. But he can't help but hope. What a stupid spirit of humanity. And yet, what was not his surprise, when he saw you approaching him hugging him. For a few minutes, he waited for you to take out a knife or a weapon of some kind to attack him. But nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just... a normal hug. As if none of this had happened. Nothing had been said.
“Well... I... I didn't expect that. Unless this is a ruse on your part.” said Danny suspicious.
“What good would it be now that I try anything against you? You said it: if you fall, I will fall too. And... you may be an assassin... you've always been there when I needed... you listened to me, you protected me. You could have killed me a long time ago... and you didn't. And all those moments we spent together... I could never forget them. Never.” You respond without letting him go.
“Me neither.”
“I guess you've made it. You have succeeded in making me your accomplice. That's what you wanted. You wanted me to enter your world.”
“It won't be easy... but I would teach you to get ready for this new life. Lie... Keep one's mouth shut... Trick... As long as you are with me, nothing will happen to you.”
Danny gently took your face with his gloved hand before placing a quick kiss on your lips. But before he can back off, you kiss him passionately, hugging him a little more. He is not a doctor, or even a psychologist, but he could easily conclude that he caused you to have Stockholm syndrome. Or at least something close to it. However, he will have to be careful in the early days. He doesn't know if all this is real... or if you cheat. It's in Danny's mentality, he was betrayed too often in his youth, he will not let himself be fooled so easily.
“We're going to have to put ... two three little things to the point. First, outside of these walls, and when someone comes here, I'm Jed. no one should know my true identity. Not even Mattew and Melina.” starts Danny.
“It's horrible... to have to lie to them. They're friends, I'm sure they would understand.” you respond.
“They will especially warn the cops. At least after researching me. Journalistic curiosity, honey, can wreak a lot of havoc. Especially at the level of the closest people. Second, if the police come to ask you about Hoggins, you say you don't know anything. You tell them that the last time you saw him was when he threatened you in your café. Your employees will be able to confirm this.”
“Because I have to use them as an excuse now?” you replied.
“Everyone around you can serve as an alibi. I've done it often... very often during all these years.” responds Danny shrugging his shoulders.
“Anything else to know?”
“Even if you know about my office, I'd appreciate not seeing you inside. Everyone has their own business. Was I clear enough?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. So, how was your day?” Danny asks as if nothing had happened.
“As usual... I had two calls. For the succession, it is settled. And my aunt can't wait to meet you one of these days. But other than that, nothing very extraordinary. I'm exhausted.” you respond sighing.
“I know exactly what you need to... relax.”
Danny slowly lowered his hands until he reached your ass, putting a small slap. You jump slightly before looking at him, biting your lips slightly. A smirk comes to his face, provoking you just with the look. His piercing blue eyes, the secret of his charm. And it is in a fiery kiss that you both direct in the room, undressing each other before finding yourself on the bed, completely naked. The kiss continued, more sensual, and Danny finally entered you, making you moan with pleasure. He waited for you to relax before he began to move, and every move caused the two of you an insatiable pleasure.
No need to hide, no need to live under Jed's identity, no need to be Ghostface to satisfy his fantasies. Now that you know everything, now that you know who he is, he can finally be himself. He will continue to "play" Jed outside his walls because it is not necessary to arouse the suspicions of either office colleagues or the police. And even less of Wilhelm. This guy is a real leech.
Now with you he can finally be himself. You are the sweet little star of the devil. And no one will be able to approach you. In every sense of the word... the beast has been released. And nothing can stop it.
Not even himself.
***
(And it's done! This chapter was quite quick to write because since it is the continuation of the previous chapter, the ideas came to me quite quickly. Well, it's true that almost the entire chapter is mostly dialogue between Danny and the reader, but really, I didn't see how I could write it other than that. I don't forget the fic RE8 and the little teasing I talked about! By the way, if at the moment you do not know what to play, whether on Switch or PC, I recommend Road 96, a real surprise that I love! I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)
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Miraculess Ladybug Salt AU: You Always Liked To Play With Fire ~ The Meeting
I have no idea how long I want this to be, but I doubt it will be too long, so maaaaybe 15 chapters? But I’m super glad that this has gotten more attention than I thought it would have.
Might need to point out that I only said there weren’t any Miraculous here, but heroes still exist, but they all hide their identities (from the public because I think it’s stupid for random civilians to know your identity) if they chose to or they only tell families.
This fanfic and its ideas were all made before season 4 came out, so if something doesn’t add up please don’t worry. That information wasn’t available then, and unless it fits into my story or I like it, I won’t include it in my story. Also, that new Miraculous wiki can get lost, I’m not putting any of that new information in here if they couldn’t even put it in the show.
Word Count: 7661
Tags: @vixen-uchiha, if you wish to be tagged all you must do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged. I’m very sorry if I’ve missed anyone.
Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.
Summary:
(Fire doesn't exactly have anything to do with this story I just really liked the title)
Note: This book contains OOC scenes of Miraculous Ladybug as well as a ton of salt, so if you don't like that stuff you may scroll past and have a nice day.
In a world with no Miraculous, no Hawkmoth and no Ladybug, how does our little heroine do?
Well, it usually would be hanging out with her friends, as any other teenager would do...
But, of course, this wasn't normal.
This was reality. It was cold, hard, and definitely not welcome.
So, when this girl wishes to have some kind of adventure in her boring, mundane life...
How long does it take for her to regret it?
Trigger Warning (If you believe there is absolutely anything in my works that can be classed as triggering please tell me and I will include it after the summery. All off my works are made with a keep reading so you should be able to see if there's anything in the warning before hand.)
Mentions of guns, poison and stitching flesh.
***
Beep… Beep…
Alarms were annoying. Why had someone decided to invent a device that makes you feel guilty for sleeping in? Why not just be a gentle reminder in the form of a lullaby? Or a small caress of a hand brushing some hair, as you simply start to close your eyes, drifting of-
“Marinette you’ll be late for school again!”
She groaned.
So that was why.
Getting dressed she sighed knowing what the day would hold. Glares, being alone, eat, hopefully become nothing but invisible and make sure to go unnoticed before rushing back home.
For the past three years, this is what would happen to her. This same boring, frighteningly normal routine.
And she hated it.
Not just for being alone, or all of the sadness she felt grow each day to a meter she wasn’t sure what level she was on now but whatever. It wasn’t going down any time soon.
No, what she hated the most…
Was the boredom.
Yes, her creativity streak could not be higher, she had been going through her sketchbooks so much she had to work longer hours at her bakery to afford them all, but her love for fashion just wasn’t the same, she didn’t feel any joy producing her work anymore. There wasn’t anyone new to show it with.
She was just alone in her room, mountains of book piles covering every surface.
But she was bored in general. She wouldn’t be able to place the feeling, or even be able to describe what it was. But for whatever reason, she craved for adventure, I mean sure she was safe here, and she didn’t want to worry her Parents with this silly idea of hers. But she just wanted a tiny little taste of some venture.
So why couldn’t she?
“Did you hear?” Marinette heard the whispers, walking up to her classroom door she could hear what they were talking about, over the years she had become silent, become part of the crowd, it was so much easier to eavesdrop, although it was a bad habit of hers, she couldn’t help it.
For example, she heard about Adrien’s relationships.
Now don’t start getting worried, she was 100% over the boy. She would under no circumstances ever fall for someone like him, or even make such a god-like illusion of someone ever again.
But she heard how, the first day Lila came, and their kiss they shared. He really had meant to pull away.
Because he was starting to see Kagami.
But, his feelings became conflicted.
And he didn’t want to hurt Kagami, so he simply never told her.
But then he never told Lila to stop with all of her advances, and Alya had tried numerous times to set them up.
Again, Adrien never said for them to stop, instead went along with it. He never told them he was with Kagami, and Marinette couldn’t help but feel so sorry for the girl.
She learnt from hearing Adrien’s conversation he was her first friend, and she wanted to keep hold of that fact.
Just like her.
Except, the bluenette was able to escape that motion before she was sucked in too far.
She would’ve warned Kagami, don’t get her wrong. But Marinette wouldn’t lie. She was intimidated by the girl.
Every time she saw her, she would glare all the time. It just reminded her of everyone else, and she couldn’t go through with it.
Pathetic she thought bitterly.
But still. If she had confessed to Adrien, and then Lila came. Would he have told her about that kiss?
.
Well, er- Besides that, she had a knack for hearing other things too, for example, footsteps, she was able to tell who’s were who’s just by the sound. Some were light like Rose’s and Juleka’s. Some were heavy like Ivan’s and Mr Damocles. Some were sneaky like Chloé’s and Lila’s.
And she had to learn to avoid interactions with anyone she knew would make a fuss.
It became easy after a while.
Opening the door, she quickly scanned the class, they were all there, usual spots an all.
Around Lila’s desk.
Oh well.
It would be less likely they would notice her.
She was, fortunately, able to get to her seat without any interruptions.
“A hero is coming to Paris, to help all of the Parisians out. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Really, that’s so cool. I wonder what they’ll be like?”
“Oh, I sure hope he’s strong. Hey, do you think it’ll be Eostrix Or Sparrow?”
“And why exactly do you think it’ll be Eostrix? What about Medusa. Or-” Alya gasps, excitement seeping out of her.
“What if it’s Nebula?!”
“Nu-uh, it’s definitely Eostrix”
“No way Nebula all the way”
“Eostrix”
“Nebula”
“Eostrix!”
“Nebula!”
“EOSTRIX!”
“NEBULA!”
“BATMAN!!” The once quiet Rose belted out, before covering her hands in astonishment.
“Sorry I wanted to join in.” She gave a sheepish smile as Juleka pattered her head.
Marinette breathed a sigh of relief, they would always get loud but today must’ve been special.
She looked out the window. A superhero Ey? Coming to Paris? How exciting. She knew she would never get the chance to meet them in person, what with her not so chaotic schedule. But she would love nothing more than to thank them for all they had done, for even volunteering to come here and help.
If she was brave enough, she would love to bake something for them, as a token of appreciation for their work. Maybe even make an outfit inspired by them-
Wait- that wouldn’t be considered creepy, right?
She tried to work on that, with her attachment issues. But she was trying, with no friends at least, she wasn’t sure if it had worked. No one could see her progress without any other remarks.
“You shouldn’t work yourself up so much, besides there’s going to be an announcement in 2 hours, we’ll just see it at break.” Alix laid back in her seat, Marinette couldn’t tell if she had finally realised the truth but was just drowning it out or just grew bored.
But she hadn’t made any type of engagement with her.
Oh well, I guess she was done with hoping.
But it wouldn’t matter, Mlle Bustier came in clapping her hands to gain the classes attention.
“Now now, please return to your seats, I have a very special announcement to say” Please don’t let it be another pop quiz. It was bad enough when someone would glance her way in general. Not when her test score would be one of the highest.
“As you know, this small, lovely class has been so pleasant these past few years. Our own tight little nest, and I couldn’t be prouder of… All of you” Marinette saw the little glance she made, whatever she thought. It was all lies anyway.
“But, we will have to make another new addition to this class” A laugh was heard.
“Well, I for one hope they’ll be better than the last bunch… Except for you Adrikins” The others glared at her as Adrien looked away, not wanting to get involved.
If there was one thing Marinette could commend Chloé for, it was the fact she saw through Lila’s lies with ease. Having Sabrina by her side did make it easier, but she saw through none the less.
She didn’t care that everyone else believed her little tales, Chloé thought it was funny, and loved the idea of their reactions when they would inevitably freak out and cry.
She just had to be patient.
Plus, there was no way she would feel pity for Marinette. In this world, its use or be used. And like hell she’ll be used. She just had to see for herself.
“Chloé please, that’s no way to make a first impression. Ahem, excuse me, you may come in now!”
“Ok~,” A singsong voice said.
If Marinette had been paying attention, she would’ve noticed the newcomer walk in. She wore a long-sleeved unbuttoned cardigan with a t-shirt underneath and a knee-high length skirt. A scarf was tied around her neck, matching her attire and small petite shoes.
She would’ve noticed the pretty little bows in her hair. The pigtailed braids, all going down to her waist, showing off how long it still was even tied up. Little earrings so small worn, a detail many wouldn’t have noticed.
She would’ve noticed the little introduction she did to the whole class, and how it seems she brightened up the whole room. Or the smile she sent their way, not for one but for all. And how a blond boy blushed from it.
But more importantly, she would’ve noticed, or at least heard her name being called out multiple times.
“Marinette, please pay attention for once, I swear your behaviour has gotten worse” She wanted to shrink, now she made a fool out of herself in front of the new girl.
“I’m very sorry about that, that was very rude of her, I do hope you’ll forgive the situation, the only available seat is at the back” Great, now she will hate her.
“That’s alright, I love sitting at the back, that way, I can see everyone and know they’re ok” Hearts stopped, and smiles grew, she really was just a sweet little child.
The bluenette, however, was dreading it. Now there would be another to hate her. And she seemed so innocent. It was only a matter of time before she would be corrupted as well.
Oh, the horror, she really didn’t deserve it, but Lila would have her way, she always di-
“You’re Marinette, right?” She jumped, forgetting she had just been in her own little world again, staring off into space. She really needed to stop that.
“Err y-yeah, and you are?” She cursed herself for not paying attention, now she may just think she was an ignorant stupid-
“My name is Rosaniline Keyne-Hill, but everyone calls me Rosann, it’s a pleasure to meet you Mari” She giggled as Marinette stared back.
Mari? No one had called her that before. But she liked it.
“Yeah, same”
And it felt like something else.
Maybe… Hope?
…
She shouldn’t be so optimistic.
***
Trying to eat in peace was a nightmare. There weren’t many places where she could go to without being in trouble. The library prohibited any foods due to not wanting any books to be damaged, you weren’t allowed to eat in a classroom without a teacher present, and considering all of the teachers chose to eat in the staff room she wouldn’t be able to sneak into any room. The art club, again didn’t want to damage any works, not after Chloé “accidentally” spilt her drink all over Nathaniel’s sketchbook four years ago. He refused to go to school for a week. And the roof was out of the question, too unsafe and a risk if anything were to happen.
But Marinette, since it’s lunch, couldn’t you go eat at home? Why yes, she could, at least two times a week she would just go back and stay at home to eat, but she felt as if she couldn’t always retreat home just for convenience, besides, Mlle Bustier would sometimes tell her to eat in the cafeteria with the others instead of hiding herself away. If she tried going to her Parents when told to stay, she’d be given warnings that soon turned to detentions.
Even if at times she wished to just sneak away, she couldn’t, she didn’t want her Parents to be called in and get wind of any other situations.
Marinette sighed as she played with her food, boredom crept on her face before she tuned into that hero announcement appearing on Face To Face.
Despite everyone trying to shove it down the school’s throat, she was ever so slightly curious about it. She may not have been able to voice her opinions to anyone in particular but she just wants to see who this mystery hero was.
Her pink earbuds at the ready and plugged in, she waited until Nadja Chamack’s report would come in, eerily, the whole cafeteria was quiet, the suspense was enough to put anyone silent.
Then, the logo came on, the sound resonated throughout the room since it was on the TV but Marinette stuck to her phone, she didn’t want anyone catching her watching it.
“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news. Now a new rumour has been circulating throughout Paris about a new superhero appearing to protect the civilians. I’m sure you’re all dying to know just how true it is. Well, I can assure you that only the best reporter in Paris would only speak of the truth, considering I have the key to answer all your questions.” Lights appeared behind her, all moving in different directions before centring on a doorway in the centre of the stage.
“I’m confident you’re very excited to find out who our mysterious hero is, so without further ado, let’s see who it is.” People began to hold their breaths, the excitement of who this bigshot would be, Nebula, Eostrix, or someone even bigger, they didn’t know, but you could hear a pin drop in that cafeteria with how silent it was.
From behind the curtain, there were ruffles, smoke emerged to give off a more dramatic flair as the crowds became excited.
.
.
*A turquoise and light emerald outfit came into view. Baggy clothing on her arms and legs appeared along with white high boots. Her main outfit seemed to reside a sweetheart neckline dress with a mini skirt, although Marinette noticed it gave the girl some mobility to move around instead of being restricting. She also noticed the slight cold colours centring around her skirt, since she always had a keen eye on different types of design patterns. Light blue overlayers obscured most of the skirts view with golden rims on the bottom.
She had a light blue neck jewel, although she couldn’t see much off it, she’d have to admit. Her mask was a gradient of turquoise to match her dress, her hair was tied up in two twin buns, two red hairpins also there she noticed, but the rest left down, Marinette had to wonder how long it would’ve been all down.
There were a lot of things Marinette noticed, however, one thing everyone could agree on…
Was that they had no idea who she was.
“Salutations everyone, why it’s a pleasure to be here.” Marinette had to admit, she looked… Kinda young to be a superhero. And maybe, just maybe, not what she’d envisioned when she’d heard about a hero coming to Paris. Why, she was making an assumption, and she should really know better than to do that since, y’know, but you couldn’t blame her right?
“WHAT? WHO THE HELL IS THAT?” She heard over the other side of the dining room. Of course, it was Alya, she never could control her voice volume. But she couldn’t tell if the ombre girl was upset over it not being Nebula or supposedly getting hyped up for a hero none of them had ever heard off.
Looking back at the screen, she could tell the news reporters seemed a bit taken back as well, Nadja never was good at concealing her emotions, even on air, maybe they had been promised someone else instead?
“O-Oh, I see. Well, I-’ Her recovery was the same, Nadja always fretted she had to rely on the people up in management to give her a line if she couldn’t think off one herself, she wasn’t very good at improv either.
The heroine smiled before walking down to sit beside Nadja.
“I understand the scepticism, my appearance deters most, but that is just a ploy, however, I’m here to make a promise to all off Paris. My name is Soliane Rin and I’m here to risk my life for everyone in Paris, with or without my mask on. All I ask is to be given a chance.” She bowed to the camera, to all off Paris, and Marinette was able to see her smile, her truthful words as the whole dining room stayed silent at her speech.
Marinette seemed to feel…
Hope?
“Ah- no it wasn’t that, it’s just we were given information you were appointed by both Eostrix and Nebula? How? I mean, how did you meet them, or more importantly how did you get to have this opportunity?” She smiled as Nadja had time to recover from her obvious disappointment.
“Oh that, well I had worked with them on a few cases in New York. I had trained for a few years to be just like that until I was finally able to convince them to train me fully. And well I guess they believed I was ready to protect this jurisdiction by myself over time.” Nadja nodded along, seemingly more at ease as the time passed by, more questions being asked and answered before everyone had noticed how much time had passed.
A beep emitted from the girl’s necklace, in turn making her stand up and bowing or at least curtsying once more.
“I’m sorry for the early interruption, but I must be going now, I have some business to attend too” She threw a peace sign as a puff of smoke surrounded her. When it had passed so had she disappeared. As the crew tried to cover from most of their unscripted events. Nadja headed to commercials.
The long-awaited announcement was over, what would the audience’s reactions be like?
“Really? We get a new hero like her? I’ve never even heard of Soliane Rin. Ugh, we might as well have gotten someone like Doorman” Kim flung his arms up into the air before sitting back into his chair.
Not good apparently.
“I know right, and to think I was excited for this” Alya dramatically fell back into her seat. And she was so looking forward to this news as well.
Marinette would admit to feeling more guilt, she may have… Possibly thought the same, but even still, we’re judging a book by its cover, surely, they all should’ve waited until maybe after she had proved herself.
Wait- making her have to prove herself was too judgemental still, she didn’t mean for it to sound that bad, she just- she was just wrestling with the thoughts in her mind.
Not noticing the annoyed looks from the class, the tiniest blush from a blond, or the tiny smirk residing from a brunette.
With a plan in action, she set to work ravelling a new story that was sure to captivate her ‘friends’. With a tremble of the lip and bowing her head, she waited until at least one person would notice her sudden change of expression.
Luckily, her plan went just as she thought.
“Lila? Are you ok, what’s wrong?” Rose, a sweet and naïve girl mind you, immediately took the bait.
And with that, the others finally took notice of her, a new record she thought, after so long she was used to this routine.
She knew how to work them.
“Oh- it’s nothing important, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to spoil the mood.”
Hook
“Hey c’mon girl, you can tell us. What’s on your mind?” Alya pats her shoulder to comfort the smaller girl.
Line
“Are you sure?” Lila asked again timidly, the other girl nodded, in fact, everyone did, and gave encouraging words to her, they couldn’t see the smirk inside her mind.
And sinker.
She fiddled with a piece off her skirt, a habit she formed when noticing they were always a lot more concerned when she fidgeted, it was a clever trick really. Being able to get anyone wrapped around her finger was a power she loved.
“Well, I just think it’s a bit sad really.”
“What was?” Someone asked, at times she didn’t really care who it was that responded, she just knew what the next response would be, she could always make them say what she wanted without them ever knowing…
Oh, she loved this life.
“It was meant to be a surprise.” She rambled on, waiting for someone to stop her, they had to.
“Lila, what are you talking about?” See, she knew how to play this game a thousand times over.
“Well… I wasn’t really meant to tell anyone. But since all of you are my friends, and I know I could trust you with this, so I guess it's fine to say.”
Everyone around the table leaned in, intrigued by what she had to say. Lila took a deep breath in, bracing herself for the aftereffect of her words she knew would come.
“I knew it would happen, that no one would like her, but I had hoped and prayed that you all would, I guess I should’ve asked for someone higher up” It took a few seconds for those words to tick in the aspiring journalists head, but when they were finally processed, she nearly erupted. It was better to make them think of what she said instead of just outright saying it, decent off her to help their brains.
“Wait- you- you were the one to suggest a hero to come to Paris!? OMG girl that is fantastic” Lila gave a small smile as everyone then shouted the usual praise at her, she nodded along before turning her head down.
“But- you all weren’t happy” They all felt guilty at that, maybe that was why Lila had been quiet the entire time while the news was on. She must’ve been checking for their expressions and yet they hurt her feelings instead.
“Sorry- we must’ve just presumed it was gonna be Eostrix or Nebula, that morning probably messed with our responses” Alya laughed as she draped an arm around Lila.
But the ‘lie’ wouldn’t end there.
“I see, I just thought she would’ve wanted more recognition while being here” Out of nowhere she started crying more, everyone tried to comfort her, but it was no use.
“She’s just such a nice person, and so kind. When I last met her, she was still in training and I promised I would promote her as much as I could” She sniffed as Rose handed her a tissue which she greedily took a hold of.
Before they could exclaim their surprise she immediately jumped right back into her story.
“I knew I should’ve tried harder; I should’ve gotten Nebula or Eostrix. I’m sorry I ruined everyone’s day. I- I should’ve left my big mouth shut. I’m sorry guys” Their guilt immediately intensified.
Lila had done all of that for them, and they had quite easily tossed it aside without realising, how could they? And to one-off their best friends? Despicable, absolutely despicable.
Wait, why did that sound vaguely familiar?
Oh well, Lila was more important.
“Lila no” Alya cooed in a soft voice, feeling mostly responsible, hyping everyone else up and being one of the first ones to dismiss the new hero entirely. She tries to comfort Lila was the least she could do.
“It’s not your fault Lila” Her plan came together.
“Of course, not. We shouldn’t have judged her so quickly” Just like all the others.
“We’re sorry, so sorry Lila.” And she knew how to do it so efficiently.
“We shouldn’t have judged so quickly” Lila’s smirk in her mind grew in size, they were so wrapped around her finger.
As Alya was happily explaining that she would be in fact honoured to create a blog about this new hero- she had forgotten her name, and would quite happily like to interview Lila as well to be able to learn anything else about the hero, a lone figure grew upset.
Lila had just created another lie, she was used to that, but for it to be about the new hero, couldn’t Lila tell just how dangerous that could be? I mean sure, it would be great to actually be able to meet a hero, let alone be friends with one. But to publicly announce that? Was she crazy? Did she want a massive target on her back?
She could only hope no one would buy into that blog, as mean as it was, but she didn’t want them to get physically hurt.
She could only hope that the new hero wouldn’t care about fake news or blatant lies.
She truly could only hope.
.
As shoes tapped against the floor along the dining room, a new figure turned her head.
She had been walking around her new school, looking around for entrances, exits and just in general any hidden secrets. She had previously asked for a school plan from a teacher, but had been informed that her students would be more than happy to help her instead, and she needn’t need some piece of paper. But that didn’t suit her, so when she wasn’t looking, she may have just acquired one anyway. She was quiet so she wouldn’t have been caught.
Now she was walking through the dining hall, she had wanted to take in the cafeteria, just in case there were any rooms she had missed, until she heard footsteps approaching her.
“Hey Rosaniline, come join us, we haven’t seen you all lunch.” She knew she’d have to concede, having analysed each person in her class, she knew, Alya, would not take no as an answer.
So, she flashed her innocent smile and nodded along, it may prove useful to study them further.
Her arm was grabbed before they walked over to a table full of people, so different from the other tables.
“So, newbie where were you? You totally missed the special hero announcement.” Alix asked her, the others looked over to see her answer, if Rosaniline hadn’t been used to having a crowd around her she believed she would’ve been nervous as hell.
“I had taken the liberty off looking around the school, I’m afraid I can get pretty lost in large places, I only wished to remember the layout beforehand.” She placed her hands together with a bright smile appearing. It was half a lie; she couldn’t exactly state her true reason, now could she?
The ombre haired girl pulled a large smile onto her face. She was just like Adrien, new, polite and a literal ball of sunshine, she thought before sneakily looking over at the blond-haired person who hadn’t said much, most probably due to his shy nature due to his upbringing.
She latched onto Adrien’s arm before practically flinging him towards Rosaniline.
She literally took falling for someone to a whole new level.
“Well looks like the two of you would get along swimmingly” Her new ship was bound to sail, she could see it now, their immediate attraction for each other, the dates and interactions they’ll have before proclaiming their love in the rain, a sentimental scene in which she’ll be gladly recording while hiding behind a tree.
I mean who wouldn’t just map out her new friends love life in a matter of minutes of knowing each other?
But… It may just become a crash course instead. They rubbed their heads simultaneously due to bumping into each other. However, one was ever so slightly overjoyed with being in such close proximity to her while the other would think that prank wasn’t funny in the least.
Before any of the duo could express their annoyance/apologise and maybe a get together sometime, someone of course just had to interrupt the moment.
“Oh, Rosaniline we need to apologise to you” Rosann had expected the apology to come from Alya but it appeared that girl didn’t know that she had done something wrong.
“We’re so sorry that you have to sit next to her” That caught Rosann’s attention, what did they mean by that? They must’ve noticed her confused face as the explained further.
“Oh, you poor thing, you really don’t know do you?” Well, no. That is what she wanted to say, she was new, of course she wouldn’t know, hell she hadn’t even been able to see the whole layout as she had planned to. She was sure there was a hidden basement somewhere, she just needed to locate it.
“That girl, the one you have to sit next to in class. The one with dark blue hair?” They all tried to provide as many details as they could without trying to make it too obvious, but Rosann was able to make out who exactly they were talking about.
She took a sneaky glance towards the person the group had started to talk about. She heard a few words of bullying, mean, lies and stalker before zoning it out, she needed to concentrate.
The girl, in a pink jacket and a grey skirt. Sitting alone on a table that seemed to be mocking her by how big it was. All of the tables were big, possibly to do with teachers wanting students to sit with their friends.
But she wasn’t with anyone, she just absentmindedly played with her food as nothing interesting happened.
Rosann stared, that girl, she hadn’t seen her smile once, or even display any kind of positive emotion. She was just lonely; couldn’t they see that?
That girl needed to be saved!
***
Midnight.
Or at least close to that time she thought.
She didn’t know, she had spent many a night out on her balcony just sketching in her book. One would think it would’ve been too cold but the bluenette didn’t mind, she had been used to it, the wind wasn’t particularly chilly out here, even if it was late September. This was part of her routine anyway. Staying up late was just something she was used to, her sleeping schedule was the worse. But she produced so many fantastic ideas when she was awake at night, it was a sacrifice she was willing to take.
With her earbuds plugged in, she was jolted out of her streak when she heard a different notification pop up, pulling out her phone she looked at what could’ve possibly caused it.
[BREAKING NEWS: New Hero Prevents Bank Robbery On First Day.]
Marinette smiled at that. Her first achievement, in Paris of course, she knew she had done a lot before, she had checked a few articles before, although she did have to rely on google translate on a few instances, but this hadn’t been the only thing she had prevented. There had been house fires to museum robberies to even outright terrorist attacks, and yet she was able to stop them all, she did have some help but from what Marinette could make out the other heroes got there after taking most of the civilians out of the buildings, and from what she could tell, she could’ve easily handled everything herself.
She could see Soliane didn’t need to prove herself to others if she was just given a chance for everyone to see what she could do.
To not be judged based on baseless accusations tossed her way. For people to look through and see the truth!
.
.
She didn’t know who that had been aimed at, but she knew she just wanted to get back to her sketching.
But… She couldn’t.
Not now.
Not when she heard a noise behind where she had been sitting!
She quickly dropped her belongings as she jumped up from her chair.
-
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but she knew she had heard something, it wasn’t just her hearing she knows that.
She knew something had happened; something was there. When she stayed put, trying to concentrate more- she heard slight breathing, slow and- hurting!?
She didn’t know who it was, she didn’t know their intentions or they alliance, but, if something was hurt, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t check it out.
So, she quietly approached the wall, having to stand on the bricks on the side of the wall since she wasn’t tall enough before pushing herself up.
!!!
‘That’s-!’
Even in the night she could see a prominent colour.
Turquoise!
“It- no it can’t be! Soliane Rin!” She whispered more to herself, but even still she couldn’t comprehend how this could have happened.
Noises of pain interrupt her train of thought. She- she was hurt!
Her mind had taken action, and immediately propelled her forward, she couldn’t leave someone out here in the middle of the night hurting, even if she was a hero, she was still human!
She ran towards her, instantly trying to ask if she was ok? Where was she hurt and if she can respond?
But nothing came, no answer, nada. She had to check if she was alright.
She came closer, forgetting about maybe not accidentally startling the young hero.
Her hand was caught midway to the hero, she gasped, her reflexes were still there. Her head was nonetheless limp and her left hand resting on her abdomen.
“W- who ar-” She grunted in pain again. Marinette shot forward to grab her before she could fall back.
“Hey, m-my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you’re on my roof right now. Please let me help you” Through her strength, she opened one eye to look at her. And through her eyes, she could only see one thing.
Sincerity.
“Right- leg… anti” Her breathing grew slower, as if she were falling unconscious, Marinette had no idea if it would’ve been eternal.
But Marinette was able to determine what she had meant. Looking her over, she looked at her leg, her baggy clothes were slightly torn but that didn’t matter now, slipping her hand inside, she hoped Soliane wouldn’t mind her hand being cold, she tried searching for it, for her antidote.
Her fingertips tried reaching out until she felt smooth glass. Wrapping her fingers around and pulling it out she pulled it up for further inspection.
The writing around the glass wasn’t in French unlucky for her, however, there were pictures, she had to quickly conclude this would’ve been used for situations just like this.
The picture appeared to show that it should be drunken not spread on the wound, so she quickly unscrewed the cap. Looking back at the hero she could tell she had indeed turned paler, she wasn’t faring so well, she knew she needed to do it quick.
Tilting her head back so she could pour it down her throat, she could only pray that she wasn’t too late.
.
.
One minute.
.
.
Two minutes!
Why wasn’t anything happening!?
Marinette had to take a deep breath, maybe it would need some time to take an effect.
In the meantime, maybe she could look her over to see if there were any other injuries. And then maybe go downstairs to collect some supplies. Living as a baker meant she knew her way around burns, scars and scratches, so they were always prepared with a medical box in the kitchen.
Looking at her over appeared to be the right choice in action. Her lower abdomen had been hit, Marinette reasoned with herself that must have been why she had yet taken her handoff.
But as Marinette covered her own mouth with her hand, she was a gasped at how much blood there was.
Now what? She couldn’t tell her Parents, she loved them, she really did, but she knew how loud her Dad would get whenever he got happy, angry, or frightened, she knew it wouldn’t be a smart choice, especially with how jumpy the hero was. Not like she couldn’t blame her.
Then that would mean calling an ambulance might be out of the equation as well, plus the Soliane Rin may not want the publicity of her going to the hospital after only one day of patrolling. She knew if she had gotten cold feet or even hurt like this on her first day heroing they’d be a high chance of her giving up.
Well… She was a seamstress.
She had been doing it for a very long time, so she knew the ins and outs of sewing.
But still… It could be extremely risky, and she’d need to get consent first… But if she didn’t wake up… And she knew how open wounds could be, how dangerous it could be if they didn’t get any treatment, and how much trouble she’d be in if she accidentally killed the hero when trying to help her.
.
Well…
She had dreamed of some adventure in her life…
And she got her wish.
***
Stitch… Stitch…
Flick-
“Ahh!-”
“So-sorry”
Her prayers off Soliane Rin waking up were answered, after she had collected a few blankets, medical supplies, and a needle & thread, she had come back up.
Only to find Soliane on her balcony, if it wasn’t for her shock, she knew she would’ve screamed out zombie.
How she had the strength to get there she would never know, but she had to guess, heroes have all sorts of endurance.
She quickly sped to catch her. She did reprehend her of course; it was in her caring nature, so she just had to.
But… The way she weakly smiled at her, she couldn’t help feeling guilty, she probably was in so much pain and here she was berating her for- for what exactly.
This was why they had all left her. She was too quick to jump the gun, to jump to conclusions, too fast to even see from anyone else’s perspective.
Which is why she was a perfect target.
She lowered her onto her bed, careful not to hurt her anymore. Setting her down so she would’ve been comfortable, lots of pillows to help as well, she was glad she brought so many in her childhood. Or whenever her Nonna would come, she’d always get a new toy from her travels.
And that was when she set to work, conversing with her about what she may have to do, and as hesitant as Soliane was, she also knew there was no choice.
“Fine, I’ll trust you Marinette” Those words felt like a gift, in any other situation she would have been jumping for joy, getting acknowledged by a hero? That was amazing.
But- she really couldn’t celebrate, the look in Soliane Rin’s eyes, the were… Fearful. She knew she wasn’t trusted, yet. But she would prove it.
Snip, snip.
The room was silent, no words had been muttered or mentioned, Marinette was concentrating on her stitching, just hoping she wouldn’t hurt her anymore. She must have regretted her decision now, of course, she had, anyone with the right of mind would’ve. No wait- she didn’t mean it like that! She just meant-
“It’s not your fault. I- shouldn’t have let my guard down” It became silent again, and this time Marinette had a lot more to think about. There had been one thing that was stuck on her mind and couldn’t leave her mind.
“H-How did it happen?” She saw Soliane grab a nearby pillow even tighter than she had.
She knew she should’ve kept her mouth shut! It wasn’t her place to ask anyway.
Before she could utter any type of apology, she was stopped when she heard her start to speak.
“It was right after one-off my patrol routes. I was surveying the city, just in case, I needed to report anything else. I guess- due to this being my first time alone, as well as having previously prevented some other crimes, I would have to say I wasn’t in the same mindset.” Marinette stayed quiet so she could continue without pressure, she knew from personal experience how frustrating it could be to start talking and get interrupted by someone else, it was always a pet peeve of hers, making her not wanting to finish her story out of pettiness.
“So… When I was too busy with moving around on my wire. I was shot!” Marinette jolted away, she knew something drastic had to have happened, and she had tried to brace herself. But she couldn’t, it sounded so surreal.
“I was careless, it was such a stupid mistake, no novice would’ve been hurt like me” Marinette jumped again, she was so serious, and so… Angry with herself. But, she had just saved a bank from robbers, of course, she could’ve been tired, she was human after all.
“And due to my shock, I wasn’t able to pinpoint who it had been. A poisoned bullet had just barely scared me, and I was still affected by it… Sir would be so disappointed in me.”
The last stitch had been completed. She was done, now she just had to bandage it. She noticed Soliane seemed physically more relaxed.
“I should be going now, I’ve troubled you too much” She was trying to get up, but even the bluenette knew she would still be in pain for a while, just until she would get herself checked out, probably as her civilian self.
“No, you’re still hurt. If you move too early the stitches might come undone” She laid a gentle hand on her, just enough to draw attention to herself.
“But I must, I need to report back, besides, don’t you need to go to sleep?” Yeah but- the words paused in her throat, why could she say anything?
“You’ve already helped me so much, surely you’d prefer me to leave, it would be unbefitting for a hero to be seen so helpless for so long?” She saw it, her face, it was just like her a complete replica, always so helpful, to never think about yourself even when it could be life or death.
…Ok maybe that last part was a bit extreme.
“Hey, don’t try to suggest that, I could never think that! You still need help, just because you’re a hero doesn’t mean you can’t rely on anyone else.”
…Maybe it was her stubborn side, or even her Mother’s. But she couldn’t even think of the hero going out in that condition.
Grabbing her hand, she was adamant about letting Soliane Rin stay. So, she just told her.
Told her that she can’t just go out in that condition.
Told her that she needed to get better, because if she was still hurt, how could she save other people. And how she also needs to look after herself.
Told her that… She shouldn’t have so many expectations of her, because it won’t do her any good, mentality wise… And if the expectations become broken, she’d be unrightfully angry at herself.
Told her that- oh god she was arguing with a hero in her bedroom and she wasn’t saying anything.
She wasn’t saying anything! She’s just standing there looking at her. Never had Marinette wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out?
“I-I’m sorry, I should have never shouted like that, you were just doing your job and here I come saying you need to stop- wait not to stop I meant maybe slow down, although if you wanted to carry on then that’s fine by me. What am I saying you don’t need my permission; you don’t need anyone's! Do you-?” Her hands had been waving in front of her frantically. She just couldn’t imagine all of this would’ve been happening to her, her emotions were spreading out of control. She really needed to compose herself.
-
Wait, why did she grab her hand?
“I -ahem- it's fine, I’m incredibly humbled by your generosity. You have a big heart, not many have such kindness like you” She brought her hand closer to her mouth, and the blue-haired girls’ heart was pounding more and more.
“I shall stay” She pressed the hand to her mouth, a small feeling off lips against her skin sent shivers down her back while she held her gaze.
“So long as mi Belle stays with me” It took her a moment to compose herself. It took another to realise to she was talking about her… It to yet another to compose herself from that.
“Sou yure- I mean you show- ah, I’m mean. Yes.” Marinette felt as if she couldn’t say no, and yet, she didn’t feel uncomfortable, she felt accommodated. She believed if she had said no, she wouldn’t have felt pressured by the hero to stay.
And she smiled at that.
They both had.
So sincere.
***
The morning had come.
And not a moment too soon.
Light poured through her drawn curtains, and her first reaction was to grab the closest thing to plummet it towards the sun.
Not like that would’ve done anything mind you. It would’ve just been to make her point.
Rising up and stretching her arms, she headed down her steps, it had been a weekend, after all, she was allowed a lie in occasionally.
Although, she felt oddly a lot more refreshed than she had remembered, what had change-
Soliane Rin!?
Her head zoomed around the room, where- where was she?
No one was in the room besides her.
So- was it just a dream? Did she really see just imagine it all?
But she couldn’t have, wouldn’t that have just been too cruel, even for her?
Did the gods really hate her as well?
Wait-
That piece of paper wasn’t there before?
Stepping over to her desk, she gently picks it up, almost afraid she’d rip it up.
As her eyes traced over the first words, her mind relaxed.
‘Dear mi Belle, apologise for “dropping in unannounced” and to cause you such trouble. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine thanks to you, I’ll promise to be more careful next time, sincerely your local hero, Soliane Rin…’
Her heart fluttered in gratitude; those events were real. She really did meet her.
As her hands curled around the letter, she smiled. A true sincere smile.
Because after so long, she felt…
Hope.
***
*I absolutely suck at describing clothes, which is why I much prefer to draw instead, I literally have no idea what some clothes types are called so I always end up having to ask my Mum and even then, she doesn’t know half the time so I may end up not describing much clothing in the future so sorry.
Well, I hope you liked it, I do believe these chapters are gonna end up getting longer and longer. I know a few of them are but hopefully, you won’t mind that. It will just make my progress slow but hey I was always slow so it shouldn’t matter too much right? Anyway, well Marinette has met the hero and classmate, she’s definitely different to my other version. But I do hope you like both versions.
Oh, and I may need help with Jess/Jace. I know that she’s Native American, but I’m unsure if there’s any type of detail I must include for them, for example, I’m aware that they don’t cut their hair for symbolic reasons? I’m not even wholeheartedly sure about that. So, I would like to ask if there’s any information that I’m forgetting/missing and I would love to be informed, aka if I need to include a tribe, any type of clothing that would be appropriate to wear or activities they do. Sorry if it seems stupid, I just want to be informed and try my best to make an accurate representation. You can ask me questions, but I will apologise if I don’t understand them in advance. (Just so you know, I’m changing everyone’s design but I’m definitely changing her earrings, I just keep having images of someone pulling them out ugh, hence why I’ll never draw large earrings that people could grab)
Also, if you’re confused about anything feel free to ask any questions.
Cya next time.
Note: Please tell me if I should add anything else to the card, there will be one of these cards for all 15 chapters, however, because I have uni work all updates will be slower because I really need to focus on the uni stuff, then I might be able to upload quicker. They also may change in the future because I can never stop adding stuff.
#ml salt#ml salt fic#miraculous ladybug salt#ml bashing#ml class salt#ml alya salt#alya salt#ml lila salt#lila salt#adrien salt#ml adrien salt#Marinette deserves better#miraculous au#there are no miraculous#but there are heros#miraculous ladybug fanon#marinette dupain cheng#ML Marinette Dupain-Cheng#rosaniline keyne-hill#ML Rosaniline Keyne-Hill#forget what else to tag#please comment#have a good day#hope you like it#ml oc#my OC#My OC Character#my OC tag#my art#2nd of 15 i think
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losing my mind
pairing: endings, beginnings! frank x reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, sex, drugs, cheating, creative liberties with endings, beginnings plot, time jumps, angst, accidents, wounds
based off “losing my mind” from bernadette peters/or follies
sequel to “always hate me”
The sun comes up, I think about you. The coffee cup, I think about you. I want you so it’s like I’m losing my mind. The morning ends I think about you, I talk to friends I think about you and no one knows it’s like I’m losing my mind. All afternoon doing every little chore, the thought of you stays bright, sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor not going left not going right ...
The sounds of the night infiltrated Frank’s mind like a drug, probably the only one he could take. Life seemed bleaker and this time he just couldn’t deal with it the was he normally did. Somehow drinking seemed to have no effect on him, drugs were just childish things and girls didn’t matter to him. He just roamed the Earth like a doomed soul with heavy metal spheres shackled to his ankle. Even his house no longer felt like home, every small thing reminding him of Y/N. From the little Beanie baby in the fireplace to the lingering scent of the laundry detergent she had swore to him was the best thing he could ever get and would make his clothes as soft as ever. It hurt him more not to have her on his side rather than Jack, Jack who he had known since he was a kid. No, he missed her and how she would drag him to watch Gossip Girl with her as Jack merely sneered at the idea or how she would eat only sweet and salty popcorn believing it tasted better.
The only thing that seemed to take his mind off was driving. He couldn’t sleep so driving was the only thing he could do. Just drive. Anywhere, for hours and hours on end with sleep weighting his eyelids and regret on his mind.
- Where are we going? - he turned his head to the side, Y/N sat on the passenger seat, burgundy dress on and feet up on the car console. She had a sassy look to her, hair pushed back with a gaze that almost mocked him. Slowly, he blinked his eyes wondering if his mind was playing a trick on him, which it definitely was. - Don’t worry, darling. I’m just a personification of guilt and lack of sleep.
- Go away. - he steered the wheel of his car, hoping the hallucination of Y/N would just disappear.
- I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel so guilty. - the corners of her lips were pushed upwards. - How long did you think I took to sleep with Jack, huh? Think we’re doing it right now?
- Shut up.
- He was always much more interesting than you. Smarter, sophisticated, the type of guy I’d take to my parents. You know my parents, right? You know they love Jack, they’re always talking about him and how smart he is. Do you wanna know what they say about you?
- Shut up. - he screamed but what was he screaming at? His own guilt, screaming at the personification, the realisation of his guilt standing there in that damned burgundy dress, the same dress he had met her. She was not there, she was not real, she was just a vision. Guilt and regret personified. - Go away.
- I can go away whenever you want, darling. Go on and do what you always do, go get high, overdose even and maybe I’ll disappear or maybe I won’t. We all know you’re gonna end up like that, dead, just a bit too much and I’m not gonna be there. Jack’s not gonna be there when you’re gone and we won’t care. You wanna know why? Because you push people away, you push them away because you know you’re a mess and being next to you is like dying from radiation poisoning. Slow and painful, side effects lasting forever.
- SHUT UP! - the lights of his car got brighter and brighter until he realised it wasn’t the light of his car that were shining at him. In a flash of second, his forehead hit the wheel of the thud and everything went black. The last thing he heard, his heart still beating and seemingly breaking out.
I dim the lights and think about you spent sleepless nights to think about you. You said you loved me or where you just being kind? Or am I losing my mind? I want you so it’s like I’m losing my mind. Does no one know? It’s like I’m losing my mind.
The sizzling of the pan was everything that was heard on Y/N’s very small apartment just on the outskirts of town yet still with an unbelievable rent price tag. As she moved the pan, she looked up to the clock shining 4:04 AM. She sensed something was wrong yet she couldn’t pin point what is was. Had she forgotten rent? No, rent was surely paid. Were all bills paid? She didn’t know but something was deeply unsettling to her and as Jack, who had come over for a small dinner and catch up, spoke to her the tragedy-like feeling just rose out of her chest.
- Y/N? - he touched her wrist, noticing how still she was. - Hey, are you alright?
- Something’s wrong.
- What? Do you feel a disturbance in the Force? - he joked, trying to lighten the mood but Y/N was much to distressed to even get the joke. - Please tell me it’s not about Frank. It’s been two months.
- Frank? No. I’m just .. I’m just tired. - she sighed, grabbing the pan from the stove and placing it on the table, a perfect frittata. Jack merely raised an eyebrow, setting down his cutlery as she sat. - What?
- Normally if you don’t sleep that’s what happens. At this point I’m not entirely sure if stopping communication with Frank is hurting him or you more.
- It’s not about Frank, Jack. Cut it off, please. - she rolled her eyes, slicing half the dish for her and half for Jack. Of course that deep down she knew she was lying to herself, of course it was about Frank. Half of her didn’t want to admit it that she hadn’t caught a wink of sleep ever since Frank professed himself to her as that half knew what he was. She knew the type of guy he was, she had picked him up from one night stands houses, from the curb of sleazy bars and strip clubs. He wasn’t exactly what one would consider a partner yet at the same time she knew he could be good. He would always make sure to buy some sweet and salty popcorn despite hating them, even having a quarter of a shelf filled with them. Or when her engagement broke off and he sent her a care basket with the whole box collection of Friends and Gossip Girl.
- C’mon, Y/N. Spit it out, what is it? Have you also been in love with Frank for all these years? - it came out as more of a joke, a tiny yet full laugh coming from his throat yet Y/N remained still. - Oh my god. You’re in love with Frank.
10 YEARS AGO
Y/N walked into the Valentines’ Day party thrown by Jack, barely holding herself up in her pair of new heels and burgundy long sleeve fit and flare dress which at the time she had thought was very appropriate. The mood was mellow with low lights and pink and red helium balloons suspended into the air while a very slow and almost melodic version of “Can’t Take my Eyes off You” played.
Jack quickly noticed her, waving at her to come join him and his friends. In all honesty, she didn’t know any of the people here. She knew Jack from her English class as they had been paired together at the beginning but other than that it was mostly frat boys and their boyfriends.
- Hey, Y/N. I’m so happy you came. - he gave her a friendly hug before turning to his friends, or rather, one friend as the other men around seemed much more interested with their dates than him. His friend however quickly caught her attention. He was much more casually dressed than the other boys, wearing a button up shirt with a worn out coat and slightly ripped jeans. - This is my friend, Frank. Frank this is Y/N, we go to English class together.
- Nice to meet you Y/N from English class. - he raised his glass at her as she took a seat in the middle of the two boys. - What’s your poison?
- Oh, I’m really not in the mood for alcohol tonight. - she gave him a shy smile, feeling like a school girl talking to the jock.
- Ah, that bad? - he questioned, bringing the cup up to his lips. - Don’t feel bad. Valentine’s is a commercial invention and the break up rate is usually higher around it.
- Sounds like you’re the one who’s not dealing well with it. - he raised an eyebrow at her statement, amused look in his face. - Statistics quotes and all? Who broke your heart?
- No one breaks my heart, I don’t have one.
- Everyone has a heart no matter how hidden it is. That is just how anatomy works and you can choose to ignore that you have one or you can chose to accept you have one.
- You speak like an English student.
- You speak like a Law student. - she noted.
- How did you know? - he was amused by her, mostly how cut throat yet somehow soft she was about the information she was giving out.
- Law is reason free from passion. - she quoted, leaning her head against her own shoulder. - You seem to be void of it.
PRESENT
- You know Jack just because you’re very happy in a new relationship doesn’t mean I need one. - she was protective but she knew. She knew she loved Frank, she had loved him from the very moment they had known each other, she loved him through the recounts of his night stands, she loved him when she accepted a marriage proposal and she loved him when she left his life months ago. However, just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should be together.
- I’m gonna ask you this only one time and whatever answer you give we won’t speak about it ever again. - his hand went to rest on top of hers, a caring look of that of a parent that Jack somehow always carried. She just stared at his hand, softly and safely on top of hers as he let the question go. - Are you in love with Frank?
The truth is not always kind or reassuring, it’s not always soft or climatic and in this case it was just ... freeing in a painful sort of way. The pain of holding it in for ages, pretending it would just disappear, the pain of leaning her head against his shoulder whenever they had show marathons and knowing it was just that, just a momentaneously second of paradise which would never come to fruition. The truth that she knew, that she had always known, coming out scared her more than her words could ever describe them. There’s knowing and there’s saying and sometimes speaking is harder that acknowledging.
- Yes and I really don’t ... - her phone ring interrupted her. Her gaze moved slowly across the room, sensing something in the air that felt like tragedy in the end. Without much thought, she grabbed her phone from the kitchen island, putting it up to her ears.
There are moments that the words don’t reach, you hear something but it just doesn’t register, it just doesn’t reach your senses and for Y/N this was one of those moments. The grip on her phone grew lose causing the device to slide off her hand and into the ground which in turn made Jack get up to notice how every single thread of joy seemed to have left her face. Before he could even question what was happening, she rushed up to her door, grabbing her jacket and keys. Jack followed behind the crazed woman who pretty much pulled the door of her car open.
- Where are we going? - Jack asked her but she continued to drive. The short ten minute drive seemed to take hours and hours and as the emergency unit of the hospital became clear to Jack, he understood what that call was about.
She parked the car like a crazy person, immediately jumping off the car, still wearing her pyjamas and slippers which were hidden by her black trench coat. Her heart was beating like a drum as she hit the front desk where a less than bothered nurse was filling her nails and having small talk with her colleagues.
- Hi? Sorry, hi. - Y/N knew she sounded desperate but she was. - I got a call about a car crash. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.
- Follow me.
All afternoon doing every little chore the thought of you stays bright. Sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor not going left, not going right. I dim the lights and think about you, spend sleepless nights to think about you. You said you loved me or were you just being kind? Or am I losing my mind?
The small noise of beeping woke him from his transe. All around white, nothing but white and if people were right than maybe he was in heaven however as his eyes got accustomed he could see the machines but more than machines, what really frightened him was the vision of Y/N.
- Hey, darling. - her hand came to caress his face making him wonder if he was seeing her or if she was one of his tired mind’s inventions.
- Are you real? - his words were slow and droopy, caused by the high amount of morphine they had injected him with.
- Yeah, I’m afraid so. - she gave him a kind smile, hand pushing his messy hair away from his forehead. - Me and Jack were so worried.
- I wasn’t high, Y/N. I promise. - he didn’t know what was wrong with him, maybe he didn’t want her to be even more disappointed than she already was with him.
- I know, you just had a car crash, darling. You probably have enough morphine in you to put down an elephant.
- No, Y/N. I, I got distracted in the road I wasn’t using or drinking or with a girl, you have to believe me.
- Frank, darling, I know. You’re in the hospital, you don’t need to apologise to me. I was so worried about you and so was Jack.
- Jack’s here?
The girl nodded, pushing the hair away from his forehead once again, leaning to kiss his forehead. He was covered in small cuts caused by small shards of his car’s broken windows and a few gashes which she just couldn’t look at without feeling the tears submerge to her eyes. A sea of guilt was storming in her chest and although her subconcious kept telling her this would never be her fault, it was merely a car crash, her heart told her something else. Friday night. Gossip Girl night when Frank would bake the only thing he could without setting the kitchen on fire, mozarella and tomato pesto salad, and the two of them would sit down and watch two seasons in one night. If she hadn’t ... She didn’t even wanted to think about it.
Frank on the other hand could see the distinct pain on her features. The pressure of her muscles creasing her soft features, lines by her eyes and lips quivering. It hurt, it just hurt more than he could phantom something would hurt, it hurt more than his wounds, it hurt more than knowing he’d hurt her several times, it hurt to see her so hurt and being able to do absolutely nothing yet that seemed to be a pattern. Frank always did nothing.
9 YEARS AGO
Valentine’s Day. Again. And Y/N was once again at the same party, the same decorations, the same slow version of “Can’t Take my Eyes off You” playing in the background, the only thing missing being Jack and Frank. Jack was on a date with a girl named Catherine whom he gushed about all the way through first until last period and Frank, well, Frank was out with a girl named Mandy. Oh Mandy, where to start with Mandy? Y/N hated Mandy. They had been housemates during the first year of university and if there was someone who could get her on her last nerve and consider murder it was her. Not only had she been a nightmare to live with, constantly refusing to clean or do any house chores, eating the food Y/N bought for herself. God, she was an absolute nightmare but Frank was interested in her and therefore Y/N held herself back.
She sighed ordering a virgin mojito, wanting to remain sober and not get drunk and end up in bed with one of the various frat boys around. Looking at her phone she noticed the hour, 23:20, only forty more minutes of this painful holiday and she could be free from her feeling of loneliness. As she was about to turn off her phone to enjoy her drink, a message fell. Frank.
“How’s commercial holiday? Found a suitable partner yet?”
She smiled faintly at the text, finger lingering over his name on the phone.
“I guess it’s alone commercial holiday for me once again”
She turned off her phone, not wanting to see another text from him, afraid it would be about how well his date was going with the housemate from Hell. Staring at her glass, she mixed the drink using the little heart shaped wood pick. As she took the first sip, the slow version of the song ceased to play and in its place “At Last” started to play because why play actual upbeat songs on a holiday where 50% of the population was miserable.
On that moment she decided she was better off alone in her room rather than in the middle of various single people expecting their fantasy of coupleness to occur. As she picked her clutch and looked for the door, she found Frank coming him, same old beat jacket that had become a trademark over the years. He gave her a little grin, walking towards her.
- Couldn’t let you spend Valentine’s alone. - he said before she could even question his appearence at this party. - C’mon, I have some red velvet cupcakes, wine and a blanket. Let’s go to the beach.
PRESENT
Y/N had remained at the hospital for the two days he had been in, barely catching a second of sleep until tiredness finally beat her and had her sleeping against the uncomfortable hospital chair. The moment she went to sleep was the moment he woke up from his morphine induced sleep, eyes immediately focusing on her and how her hair fell in front of her face as she rested for the first time in two days. He moved slightly in his bed to better stare at her which led her to wake her up with the noise, moving her head upright immediately.
- You’re awake. - she gave him a sleepy grin, straightening her back. - The doctor said you should be free to go home today.
- You should go home, Y/N. - his voice was still somewhat raspy from all the medication they’d been giving him. - I’m really not worth this.
- I have nothing better to do besides my neighbours are renovating, so it’s awfully noisy.
- Y/N, you really don’t need to be here.
- I think that’s the thing, Frank. - she gave him a soft smile, raising from her couch to go stand near him. - I think ... no, I know, I know I’m always gonna be here.
You said you loved me or were you just being kind or am I losing my ... mind?
everything taglist: @connie326 @lookiamtrying
#sebastian stan#sebastian stan/reader#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan/you#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan/y/n#sebastian stan drabble#sebastian stan fanfic#sebastian stan imagine#frank imagine#eb!frank#endings beginnings
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Baby Avenger
Summary: (Y/N) is one of the youngest avenger members and some government officials repeatedly let her know of “her position.” So, she lets them know exactly what her position is.
Word Count: 2100
Fandom: MCU Avengers
Pairing: Avengers x Reader
Genre: Fluff, soft, slight angst and sadness, & family love.
Rated: 18+
Content Warnings: profanity, death, abandonment, bullying, this is my first ever post of any fanfiction ever so it’s probably bad
**** This is my first ever imagine that I have ever finished and published. Please give me feedback and let me know what else I should write! I’m very excited and nervous so please let me know if you enjoyed this :) I’m thinking of making this Y/N character into a little “Baby Avenger” one-shot series, so let me know your thoughts ****
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Baby Avenger.
Baby Avenger.
Baby. Avenger.
In her head, her stomping can be heard throughout the whole Compound and all of its residents and guests can hear her anger. They know she’s going right to the meeting room; not the team meeting room, but the meeting room they use when they have special guests in for a meeting.
The new government officials who are now “in charge” of the Avengers since The Snap Part 2 were in for the day to go over the general plans that the Avengers have been coming up with. They’re nicer than those in charge of the group from the Accords, but in no way were they nice to majority of the group as a whole.
(Y/N) (L/N) happens to be the second to youngest member on the team coming in at an age of 18, second only to her best friend Peter Parker
(Y/N) is an orphan, the typical origin story of any superhero. Her parents spent their last minutes pushing her out of their burning house in rural Pennsylvania. Actually, it was her father who got her out of the flames and by their fishpond 100 meters from the house. Her mother was inside, trapped under a steal beam in the basement.
(Y/N)’s mother was a scientist who worked in secret in a little band of scientists who tried to accomplish their own small victories in testing the alterations and limits of humans. The goal of these scientists is to stay out of sight of the CIA, FBI, S.H.I.E.L.D., and other government agencies. Most of them are left alone and those who get found are either immediately sent to a high security prison or recruited to continue their experiments for a certain country/agency.
(Y/N)’s mother decided to give herself her treatment she was working on instead of potentially kidnapping someone in the everyone-knows-everything kind of town that they had been living in. Her experiment and life studies were all in trying to find a way to unlock the rest of the human brain so that more than that small percentage is being used at a time. It has been hypothesized that humans could do a lot if their brains just used itself more.
The only problem is when she gave the treatment to herself, she was unknowingly pregnant, and the treatment attached onto that small lifeform instead of her own. She created a super baby.
No one knew the exact answer to what is on the other side of that tunnel of science. No one knew what opening the mind could do, there were only theories to support ideas. Plenty of scientific evidence, but it meant nothing with no legit proof.
Well, turns out that those on the team of “you will gain the ability to read minds and shit unlike any human” were the correct guessers.
(Y/N) can read others’ minds, move things with her mind, slow down time in her mind to be able to successfully breakdown a situation and perform the best possible reaction to anything that comes her way. Oh, and the color spectrum is broader for her, allowing her to see a significantly more amount of colors than a normal human (including seeing the aura’s and heat that people give off. Very useful in the few missions she goes on.).
But her parents are dead.
After setting small (Y/N) down, her father ran back in to save the love of his life. Or, well, that’s what the towns’ people say to romanticize the situation. A brave man trying to save his family.
In the end, her father had shaken his head, laughing at the moment like a mad man with tears running down his face. He pulled (Y/N) in for the tightest hug that he had ever given the girl—which is tight considering how close the two really were. They were just like two peas in a pod, the light of each other’s lives, basically soulmates.
But love makes you do crazy things.
“You listen to me, (Y/N).” He gripped her face in a painful grip, cheeks sure to be bruised later. “I will always love you. Don’t doubt that, baby girl, okay? I love you so so so so much” By this time, tears are pouring off his face, the neon flames coming from the house reflecting off his wet face. “Mommy… mommy just needs me now, baby. I need mommy, too. We love you so much.”
It had confused her, his words. Nothing could prepare her to watch her father run back into the house, leaving her by the pond with nothing but a small bag of little family things like pictures, little stupid gifts, and a notebook she had stolen from her mom’s bookshelf one day.
Her mother’s grandfather had been friends with Howard Stark, both science men having been in the same circle of famous inventors since before WWII. While neither her mother nor father personally knew his son, Tony, he was still listed as the godfather to the child. With no close friends allowed in their secret circle, old bonds and pacts that her grandfather had with the older Stark led to a blind trust in the man.
Tony Stark had agreed to be the godfather during a one-week bender in his 30s, and when he was yelled at about it, he chose to just keep it there because “the chances of this happening is very slim.”
But here we are, Baby Avenger.
The officials who are here now actually were the same people that used to do check-ins and such with them pre-Accords, so they knew the team better than any government official save for the rare union that the team members may have with government officials. (Y/N) randomly has one with the Queen of England (she did a favor for Her Majesty once, and now they have tea every third Thursday of every month).
They knew that Tony suffered from panic attacks, and they knew Steve was going through a never ending loop of an existential crisis, and that Bucky will most likely always be having an identity crisis, and that Sam cries to sleep a lot around a certain time of year that renders him almost useless in his sleep deprived state he puts himself into. They know EVERYTHING vulnerable about the team.
So, that means they know how when she first got to the team and to Tony that she wouldn’t speak to anyone unless absolutely necessary. It took her almost a year to be able to speak more than a sentence to every person she was around. No one was too upset, though, Tony was trying to figure out how to save himself and rebrand his whole legacy and the Avengers weren’t really a family family yet like they are now. (Y/N)’s shyness made it much easier on the adults to figure out their stressful situations.
The officials, though, never got why she wouldn’t speak to them. They actually pushed her progress back more and more with taunts and comments such as “Oh, the baby can’t speak?” or a “Get your phone out! She’s about to say her first words!” every time she did go to say something.
Tony soon got fed up with it and filed a lawsuit against them which threatened their agency enough to pull them out and let a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent be a liaison for them. After their presence was rid of, (Y/N) grew exponentially with her new family. She was still home schooled, but now she had Peter Parker as a friend and world geniuses as her teachers. She was an only child, but now she’s a big sister to Morgan and has plenty of people on the team that are dubbed her siblings (since they don’t act their age majority of the time to be considered aunts and uncles).
While she’s trained to fight, (Y/N) doesn’t go out on the field much unless they need her brain or her extended vision. She likes to remain behind the computer screen and help that way. She’s invented a way to make prosthetics like Bucky’s become more available to the general public and has started a school/home that’s three miles from the Compound for orphaned kids, mutants, super kids, and those who aren’t accepted where they come from.
In conclusion, (Y/N) is 18 and not useless in any way, shape, or form.
So why, why, do these absolute short dick idiots decide that they can come into here, her home, and push her around like she hasn’t contributed more to the Earth and society in the short 18 years than their middle-aged asses?
Eyes narrowed and seeing red, she stomps her way down the last hall, shoving herself into the door of the meeting room and throwing it open.
The team stays unfazed, knowing she’d show up pissed at some point. The officials, though, jump in their seat and turn to look at her.
It wasn’t the biggest meeting, the original Avengers plus Bucky, Sam, and Wanda sit around the table. Though, Rocket and Groot are here sitting along the back wall, looking bored as hell. Thor must have drug them along.
Fists clenched, (Y/N) narrows her eyes more. She’s been here since the first attack. Sure, she didn’t fight since she was like, 8 or so, but she was in charge of her man-behind-the-computer work. She’s been a part of the team since the beginning, and these assholes are too big of pricks to acknowledge that.
That’s what’s pissing the girl off. This could have been a meeting for every one of the fighters of the team, which she wouldn’t go to because that’s not her role. This meeting, though, was scheduled as “Originals plus the newly appointed leaders only.” She’s an original.
SHE IS AN ORIGINAL.
SHE. IS. AN. OG.
AND YET, they remained in telling her she wasn’t invited because “The Baby Avenger doesn’t need to join big kid conversation.”
She locked eyes with her adopted father and her best friend, aka Peter Parker, aka the only reason she knew this meeting was still being held.
Poor, lovely Peter. He grew confused when his best friend wasn’t sitting in between Mr. Stark and him for the meeting, especially when the officials referred to the meeting as they did. He was just there to take notes for Mr. Stark, not that the man wouldn’t remember it all. Pepper thought it’d be a good idea if Tony had written evidence to anything said in these meetings so that he wouldn’t be pouring statements out of his ass without proof, and poor, lovely Peter got elected to take such notes.
When he noticed you weren’t there, he had sent you a text asking where you were and that your drink that he brought you was right next to him.
“(Y/N)! It is so great to see you, my wonderful flower.” Thick arms wrapped around her as a golden man squeezed her tight to him. Thor and (Y/N) had a special relationship. They’re always close and do the most innocent of tasks together like flower crowns, step-by-step painting classes, and making those Tik Tok crocheted blankets made with that big yarn. He even had taken her to Asgard (back when it was a planet) for a royal ball where she was the guest of honor. They’re just soft together.
Though, rage blocked that softness that normally occurs between the two. Pushing off of him, she points her finger at the men in the front. The officials look like they’ve seen the devil and all of Hell and (Y/N) can see the fear pouring off of them.
“Let’s get this clear,” she says as she slowly stalks her way up to them. “I am an Avenger. I am an original Avenger. I know about 3,000 ways to kill you in this room at this very moment with anything. I drink tea with the fucking Queen on Thursdays, and I’ve created a better orphanage/school system in 2 years than this country has in the 250 years it’s been around. Don’t you EVER call me a fucking baby again, you fucking hear me?”
By this point, she’s right up in their faces, her glare unwavering and them sweating. The silence in the room was great and seemed to go on forever. The team held their breaths, some trying not to laugh and some scared of backlash that might be trust upon the girl.
With one last eye narrow (you could blindfold her with toothpicks at this point), she whips around and walks back to Thor, placing herself sideways on his lap and relaxing into his hold. Peter passes her (Drink Order) down the table, and (Y/N) takes it.
Clint, Bucky, and Sam try and hide their laughter when the meeting starts again as they look at their long-time teammate cradled and curled up in Thor’s arms, head on his shoulder and under his chin as she sips her drink with an angry look in her eyes and a pout on her face.
All wrapped up like a baby.
#the avengers#avengers#avengers x reader#avengers x fem!reader#mcu#mcu imagine#tony stark#peter#peter parker#iron man#spiderman#steve rogers#thor odinson#captain america#sam wilson#the falcon#bucky barnes#winter soldier#x reader#my mcu imagine enmy-writes
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Pleasant Surprise (Indruck Superhero AU)
A little fic I’ve had bouncing around my head for awhile, set in the universe of “The Thrilling Adventures of the Green Knight.” It takes place after that story, and after the events of the small fics “Aww, Rats” and “Back in Time”. You can read it as a standalone, but it does contain some spoilers for main fic.
“You know how you always say communication is important in a relationship?” Indrid drums his fingers on the arm of the couch.
Dr. Mwangi nods, the chain on her glasses glinting in the soothing lights of her office.
“I...there is something I am not sure how to communicate to Duck. I, it’s something I’ve been dishonest about. I” Indrid takes a deep breath, “I lied about the date of my birthday.”
Dr. Mwangi doesn’t so much as cock an eyebrow, much like she managed not to gasp in horror when he told her what his training regime involved when he was learning to be a villain. Indrid’s going theory is that this self-control is his therapist's super power.
“Do you want to spend part of our session today figuring out how you’d like to talk with him about this?”
Indrid fidgets with his glasses, “Yes, please.”
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Duck comes home to one of his favorite scenes; Indrid sitting with his easel in front of the rat run. His boyfriend decided he needed to cultivate his artistic streak, so that one part of his life would not involve superheroing or villainy in any capacity. From the look of it, he’s still on the theme of inserting the rats into still-lifes of different styles.
Duck loves watching him paint, in a way at once connected to and completely different from the attraction he feels observing the other man train in the hideout or dig himself into engineering a new invention. There’s the same cleverness in his hands, the same concentration lining his face. But there’s an innocence that’s absent other places, a kind of happiness that only exists in activities untouched by his past.
“Hello, chivalrous one.” Indrid murmurs as Duck comes to drape his arms over his sweater clad shoulders.
“Hey sugar. I like the new paintin’--is that Dr. Harris Bonkers?”
“Indeed.” Indrid turns his head, his grin as bright as the streetlights flickering to life outside, “The fuzzy medical practitioner in the style of Seurat. I foresee Aubrey liking it as a Christmas gift, and I wanted to do it while the inspiration was still fresh.”
“Bet she’ll get a kick outta it.” Duck kisses the top of his head, then starts removing his work clothes, “you had dinner? Thought I might reheat some pizza.”
“I ordered us dinner, it should arrive within ten to fifteen minutes, depending on whether this is the broken stoplight timeline.” Indrid sets his brushes aside, stands so he can follow Duck down the hall to the bedroom.
“Thanks for doin’ that.”
“There is, ah, something I wish to discuss before it arrives.”
Duck turns and his heart twinges. Back when Indrid was his nemesis, Duck learned to read his emotions, a skill that eluded everyone else. He can tell when Indrid is nervous and, most often, when Indrid is nervous and doing everything he can to hide it.
“What’s on your mind?” He takes a soft step towards the other man, who goes very still as he summons his next words.
“Do you remember what I told you about my birthday?”
“That it was in the spring and you’d let me know when we were gettin close to it. Wait, fuck, you never did, not this year or last year. Then again, last year was when the White Star boys kept tryin to fuck everythin up, think a lot of stuff got missed. Do you, uh, wanna do a birthday observed or somethin? Could even get a little goofy and do a half-birthday.”
Indrid shakes his head vehemently, “No. That is not it. I, I ah, I lied. My birthday is not in spring. And before you ask ‘when is it,’ the answer is I have no idea. We never celebrated birthdays. I only know my age because my father unleashed my brother and myself upon the world some time after I, or rather we, turned eighteen.” Indrid tucks his hands into the pockets of his sweater, “that is all I wish to say.”
It would be easy to giggle at his serious tone.
Duck pulls Indrid into a hug, “Thanks for tellin me. Do you want help tryin to work out when it really is?”
“I...I do not know. I was simply tired of such a small lie weighing me down.”
“Okay. You wanna cuddle until dinner?”
“Of cour--oh damn it all.” Indrid steps back, pulling off his sweater, “Baron Thorne is going to try and hold an entire dormitory of students hostage in forty-five minutes.”
“More than a two hero job?”
Indrid tips his head back, then replies, “it’ll go best with for. I shall alert Barclay and Aubrey.”
“Roger. I’ll get the car.”
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Duck’s researching potential plants for Dani to modify into non-lethal weapons when the secure elevator dings open and Agent Stern hurries out, looking a kind of excited he hasn’t seen since Barclay’s parents landed their ship to meet their son’s new boyfriend.
“Gettin the feelin you got good news for me.”
“I do.” Joe pulls out his datapad, “I went through the files we confiscated from Abbadon to find the one on Indrid. It did indeed have his birth date, and you are not going to believe what it is.”
Duck looks at the little boxes of letters and numbers beneath the photo of a much younger Indrid with a much crueler smile.
“No fuckin way.”
“I know right?” Joe grins, “ I think he’ll get a kick out of that.”
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“My birthday is on Halloween?”
“Yeah!” Duck looks so happy that for a moment the emotion carries Indrid as well.
“That is rather fitting. It’s always been my favorite holiday.” He can see it now; little orange lights, a black tablecloth, some cake.
“And it’s three weeks away, so we still got time to plan somethin to mark the day. I was thinkin we could have it Friday, since Halloween is a Saturday and I know at least Barclay and Dani got things they do every Halloween. How’s that sound?”
He isn’t sure. Something circles up from the deep, animal part of his mind, but he can’t name it and so does his best to ignore it.
“It sounds wonderful.”
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Indrid cannot escape. Everywhere he turns there are birthdays; on the T.V, in the restaurants he and Duck go to, on cards and balloons when he’s getting groceries
It’s your big day!
“You don’t turn thirteen everyday”
To my son, on his eighteenth birthday
“To my brother, my favorite partner in crime”
“This week on ‘My Neighbor’s a Werewolf,’ Jamie throws Max a surprise party, and gets a big surprise of his own.”
When that one flickers across the screen, Indrid clicks the T.V off with a little hiss. He’s tense, feels like the embodiment of the moment a knife-tip meets skin; resistance and resignation in the instant before it all comes pouring out.
“You got a cake preference?” Duck rests his hand on the couch near Indrid’s shoulder, tone light as he continues, “know you like really sweet stuff, I could get mom’s hummingbird cake recipe from Jane-”
“Whatever you think best.” Indrid flexes and coils his fingers.
“‘Drid, it’s your party, you get to mark the occasion however you want.
“And what if I do not wish to mark it at all?”
“Uh…” Duck clears his throat, “uh, that’s fine too.”
Indrid turns his head to see the expression he knew would be there.
“That upsets you.”
“N-uh, fuck, I uh, it don’t uh-”
“Duck, please do me the courtesy of not drawing out the lie.”
Ducks shoulders sag, “Guess I’m a little disappointed. I, uh, I was havin fun plannin it with you. Thought I could make up for all the times you didn’t have one.”
“Well, you can’t.” Indrid snaps, stands more dramatically than he means to. He just wants this to be over, wants to stop seeing the memories he thought he’d properly laid to rest, “you cannot make up for what I saw, what was done to me, what I did.”
“I-”
Indrid holds up his hand, “I know you see it as your job to remove all traces of my tragic past that you can.”
“Hold the fuck on.” Duck shakes his head, “Is that what you think I’m doin? ‘Drid, it’s just a party. If you don’t want it you don’t want it, but don’t fuckin pretend this is some indicator of us as a pair.”
“Oh but it is.” Indrid feels his lips curl into an old smile, “you get to play the nice, normal hero making everything better, while all I am is someone to pity, broken long before you ever met me!”
Duck goes still, and in his visions he sees the rats finishing skittering to the far side of Ratopia. It’s at this moment he realizes he’s been yelling.
“I…I am going to bed. Goodnight.” He hurries down the hall, only bothering to change his pants before crawling under the covers. In most futures, Duck follows him and demands they finish their argument, leading to a far larger fight. But the hero doesn’t come. This gives Indrid time to get his breathing and heart rate back to normal, to try and work out why the thought of his loved ones gathering to celebrate his birth makes him want to disappear into the night.
He’s not quite asleep when Duck comes in. He’s not quite ready to apologize. As he’s contemplating his options, his boyfriend slips under the sheet and lays in such a way that his right hand is inches from Indrid’s own.
Without opening his eyes, Indrid slides his fingers across Duck’s palm. Duck shifts to interlink their fingers, and closes his hand.
Indrid wakes up five hours later in two discrete stages. The first is coming out of the nightmare, of his body registering the need to move, to hide, before his brain is fully back to the present. The second is waking up enough to wonder why he always hides in the closet after these dreams; he didn’t have a closet growing up.
He creeps into the living room, hoping he hasn’t woken Duck. He has woken Chicken, who decides it’s close enough to her breakfast time to yowl at him until he feeds her. While she crunches her cat food, he opens one of the doors to Ratopia. The mischief is mostly asleep, but at the sound Void rouses from his spot atop Mallard and scurries over to Indrid’s hands.
“You forgive so easily.” Indrid murmurs, cupping him in one hand and closing the cage with the other, “or perhaps you just forget with much greater skill than I.”
He knows when Duck is behind him. Without turning, he sets Void on his shoulder and says, “I think I know why I have been so unpleasant tonight. I...I have only ever marked two changes in age; being old enough to face the trials of my order and being sent out to cut down those who dared oppose us. My ‘birthday’ is a harbinger of suffering and death. And I, I know that is not the real truth, but it is the one my body believes, the one my mind has been bracing for without me fully understanding that’s what it is doing. I did not mean to take that fear out on you.”
“‘Drid” Duck’s voice is scratchy with sleep, but when Indrid turns his eyes are alert, “I’m so fuckin sorry. It, uh, it didn’t occur to me that your birthday would be wrapped up so tightly with the shit you went through as a kid. I never meant to push you into somethin you didn’t want.”
“But I do want it!” Indrid shoves his hands into his hair, “I want to have dinner with our friends, to get gifts, to enjoy a thing that millions of people partake in every day. And I am so, so very angry that I cannot, that instead I am dealing with all of this.” He gestures vaguely to himself, then looks at Duck, his body registering safe as the hero joins him by the rat run. When Duck opens his arms, Indrid nestles into them without hesitation.
“Whatever you decide on, that’s what we’ll do.”
Indrid hums, snickers when Void clambers onto Duck to tickle his cheek with his whiskers. After the shadows of the past recede in the warmth of Duck’s embrace, Indrid whispers, “I would like to have the party. I would like to help you plan it. But I...I would like a few of the details to still be surprises for me. It might be nice for my birthday to bring me a pleasant one for once.”
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“Oooh, this looks so cool!” Aubrey sets a gift on the table as she admires the mothman string lights, banners, and balloons, “dang, Duck, didn’t know you had a decorator streak.”
“Don’t get a chance to flex it much. And it’s kinda easy when the theme is so specific.”
“I’m trying to compliment you, doofus.” Aubrey playfully whacks his arm, then squeals, “honey, look, rats in hats!”
“Awww” Dani joins her to regard the mischief in their tiny party hats (only Mallard is still wearing his, the others in various states of tossing them about), “Indrid, did you make these?”
“Indeed, though Barclay made these.” He slides the enclosure open and sets five rat-sized cupcakes on the floor, “which is wonderful, because I did not want them to feel left out. They’re getting them earlier than the rest of us because Barclay is looking for ways to keep me out of the kitchen.”
“It’s your birthday, that means letting someone else cook!” Barclay calls from the kitchen.
“But I modified the blender and the mixer to be self-operating!”
“Wait, what?” Is all they hear before Barclay is drowned out by whirring.
“Should we help him?” Dani says through their laughter.
“He’s a professional, he’ll be fine.” Joseph steps from the kitchen, his casual wear of jeans and a Loch Ness Monster dress shirt still somewhat jarring to the former villain who only ever saw him in suits, “Aubrey, Dani, can I get you anything to drink?”
“Yes please. Okay doctor, time to play.” Aubrey opens the special hatch in Ratopia and deposits the rabbit, who settles in to be groomed by his smaller friends.
Dinner is fancy macaroni and cheese and fruit salad, Indrid’s favorites. As Ned regales the table with his latest misadventures in fixing up his new van (“I was unaware an owl could nest in a seat cushion”) Indrid glances at the entryway.
“Everythin okay?” Duck whispers.
“Yes. I, ah, I simply did not expect so many gifts. I know it’s customary to receive them but I thought you got one or two. Not that everyone brought them.”
“You wanna open them?”
Indrid nods, grinning, “very much so.”
He takes care not to peek at the futures when unwrapping them, wanting to preserve the excitement as long as possible. Aubrey gives him a six pound bag of Lucky Charm marshmallows, Dani sneaks out to the car and returns with a potted plant (“I modified it so that the blossoms will be extra attractive to moths”). Ned gifts him a signed, limited run poster from Red Dust on His Soul, Joseph and Barclay a stack of new romance novels (“I think you’ll like Agent X, it’s a mystery series but he romances quite a few characters in them”). Mama sent a package from West Virginia that contains a small, wooden duck she carved herself and made especially smooth so it would be soothing to rub). And Lydia Little, AKA Sylvia Cold, presents him with a mug declaring him “Favorite Brother.”
Duck’s present is the last one he opens. Waiting for him in the rectangular box is a white shirt with “World’s Greatest Rat Dad” on the front. The back is covered in squiggle-scratches of five different colors, which Duck explains are signatures from the mischief made in rat-safe fabric paint.
“It’s perfect.” Indrid sighs, kisses his boyfriend and then beams at his friends, “it is time for cake.”
They dim the lights, sing to him as Barclay emerges from the kitchen with a massive, mothman shaped cake with lots of candles. To his delight and surprise, the inside is layers of pink and yellow, flavored with strawberry and vanilla. He eats far more than is perhaps wise, but it is his birthday and it is his understanding that such things are allowed.
His guests linger for a few hours more, Aubrey and Dani the last to leave with a reminder to put the plant on the balcony. Indrid waves goodbye, closes the door and arms the security to full. He turns back into the house, sees the cards and gifts his friends put so much thought into locating for him, the stray dishes and half-empty glasses that signify they were here. For him. Because they wanted to be, because they care about him.
“‘Drid? You want any more cake before I put it aw--oh fuck, sugar, what’s wrong.”
“Nothing” he sniffles, grins, “these are tears of happiness. I, ah, I hurried us into cake because I felt them upon me when I opened the gifts. It will take some time yet for me to be willing to show such feelings around our friends.” He wipes his eyes, “thank you, my love, for arranging this.”
“Any time, darlin.”
He smiles, “Have I mentioned lately that you are my hero?”
“Pretty sure you called me that this mornin. But I sure as hell don’t mind hearin it again.”
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“What is this?” His brother scowls up from the paper plate Indrid passed to him through the complex delivery system keeping his cell from the world around it.
“Cake. Today is our birthday. Did you know that?”
“Who cares for such frivolous things, little brother?”
“Those of us who do not spend our lives steeped in the misery of others, twin brother. If you do not want it, give it back and I shall share it with one of the guards.”
Apollo looks at the cake. Then he kneels on the floor, tearing into it with his hands. He doesn’t eat it what he destroys, and after a moment Indrid grasps why.
“Did you really think I hid some device to help you escape in there?”
“Yes.” His brother is now trying to light stab the cake with his gaze.
Indrid rubs his forehead, “Perhaps some day you will learn to see things for how they are, not how you believe them to be.” He starts for the door, looks over his shoulder and says softly, “happy birthday, Apollo.”
A slam as his brother strikes the see-through front of his cell, “Get back here this instant you worthless, traitorous, coward!”
The door slides open and Indrid steps into the hall. Joseph is waiting for him, drops his eyes from the security feed to the man in front of him, “what a waste of Barclay’s cooking.”
“Agreed.”
A gentle pat on his shoulder, “You tried, that counts for a lot. Now go enjoy your night.”
“And my knight?”
“Him too.” Joseph waves goodbye, then adds, “and happy birthday!”
Indrid gets home before the city trick or treating hours begin; he’s feeling rather good, all things considered, and Halloween is so beloved by villains that the odds of his evening being interrupted by work are almost none.
Duck is on the porch lighting their Jack ‘O Lanterns, grinning brighter than all the candles and lights on the block combined when Indrid walks up the steps to join him. He sees in the futures that he’s made him a special, Halloween themed birthday dinner.
He pulls Duck into a hug, kissing the top of his head with happy sighs, thanking whatever twist of fate pushed him into the arms of the man who was, in many ways, his first-ever pleasant surprise.
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I think someone (cannot remember who, might have been you? idk) wrote some meta about Spike’s outfits. Essentially, it was that Spike changes himself into what he thinks the women he is in love with want, which explains why he wears ugly-ass jewelry in s6 lol I was wondering if you have any thoughts on Spike’s outfits over the course of the series/over his lifetime.
I’m not familiar with the meta you’re talking about, but I’ll be honest, I disagree with the premise. I don’t think there’s actually a strong indication that that’s what Spike does. The only time the text tells us that Spike is dressing to please a woman is Crush, when he wears Riley drag to appeal to Buffy. And because that’s the only time the text makes his sartorial motivations clearly woman-related, it seems more like an exception that proves the rule.
Instead, I think there’s a much stronger argument that Spike’s clothing choices reflect his relationship to society and social rules. In his human scenes in Fool For Love we see him fully and properly buttoned up. But afterwards, when he says he’s “though living by society’s rules” he’s in more unkempt, lower-class clothing. Or even in Lies My Parents Told Me his state of dishevelment shows that he’s no longer bound to Victorian social mores. Spike seems to have authentically wanted to escape those social restrictions; there’s no indication that it’s something Drusilla wanted, and his flyaway queue and oversized greatcoat in the China scenes hardly match Drusilla’s carefully composed look. Obviously, Spike’s Fool For Love narration should be taken with a grain of salt, but the “through living by society’s rules” part does ring true (even if he’s puffing himself up a bit by saying it), given how it’s backed up by his anti-social behavior. I think it’s the “so I decided to make a few of my own” part of that line that we’re supposed to read as unreliable, given that it’s immediately contradicted by a scene that shows that he’s the lowest on the totem pole in his vampire family, and has been run to ground by a bunch of angry humans. Not much rule-making going on there.
The fact that Spike later adopts a punk look once again reinforces the idea that his clothing choices are about giving some sort of middle finger to society. Then the fact that his clothing is much more normal once he’s souled shows that he cares about trying to live within the bounds of society again. When Buffy asks him to find himself in Get It Done and he goes back to his all-black, leather-coat look, you could definitely read that as him trying to do what Buffy wants. But I think there’s also an implication that his punk-ness is the more authentic Spike, or at least part of the authentic Spike, and Buffy wanted him to find that part. Given that he sticks with the black and leather look all through season five of Angel, a time when Buffy isn’t asking anything of him and he has no intention of going to her, I think it’s reasonable to think that it’s an outfit choice that he thinks fits him. Or that he’s attached to for whatever personal reasons, even if it’s just him putting on a front. He also keeps wearing that same clothing even after Drusilla breaks up with him, once again suggesting that it’s not something he was doing to make her happy. I mean we see him painting his nails in his crypt. Who would he be doing that for? Note that when he changes out of the Riley drag in Crush he never says that he’s doing it for Drusilla. Instead, I think it’s clear that he changes back into his regular clothes because he’s “found himself” again. It’s there in the dialogue:
SPIKE: It's been fun while it lasted, Harm, but I think it'd be best now if you hit the road.
HARMONY: Why? Because [Drusilla’s] back?
SPIKE: No. Because I am.
As for his jewelry in season six (which, not gonna lie, I find hot myself…unfortunately), and overall look, I don’t think we really get enough information one way or another to say why he’s doing it. On a meta level, I suspect the show wanted to make him look like a particularly bad decision, by playing up the trashy boyfriend vibe. On a character level, it’s true that he could potentially be doing it to appeal to Buffy. Some sort of peacocking thing. He could also be doing it as part of his attempt to seduce her to “badness” by really driving home that he’s a bad boy and she wants him. He could also be doing it as a kind of rebellion against the Riley look in Crush. Like he’s not a nice normal guy and he’s not going to pretend about it. Regardless, I would agree that there are probably Buffy motivations there, since Spike is very wrapped up Buffy that season. But again, I don’t think we ever really get enough information to say for sure what the intent of the show was with his costuming that season. Those are just ideas for what they might have been going for.
All that said, of course we know that Spike’s behavior is often motivated by his love for various women. Allying with Buffy for Drusilla, changing for Buffy, etc. Not denying that at all. But I don’t think it’s his sole motivation. I think he has bigger issues with identity and power—which are often reflected in his relationships with women, but still exist outside of them. I would say that overall his clothing choices are about him trying to feel free and powerful and not some foolish, well-off milksop. Fool For Love makes it pretty clear that he’s invented this punk, Slayer-killer identity for himself to distance himself from that person. Not out of devotion to Drusilla. Even though he is of course devoted to her, and even though that relationship influences his decisions.
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A Little Nudge
The world is garbage and I’m writing fluff so I don’t have to think about it. Good Omens one shot. Fluff. Very dialogue heavy, because I like writing Dialogue.
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556994
Or you can keep reading below:
Crowley drummed his nails against the kitchen table as he watched Adam do his homework, periodically wondering which one of them was more bored and whether homework was an invention of Heaven or Hell. Crowley hadn't had a hand in it, that was all he was certain of. Seemed like something Aziraphale would approve of, though.
This had been a new Arrangement, and one Crowley had no designs in. But both he and the angel were certain Adam had retained some, if not all, of his powers. And both were convinced their sides were still up to something, so it made sense to keep an eye on the boy. But it hadn't been intended to be so closely. Just a little while after Crowley had started watching him, he started getting phone calls to come baby sit. Aziraphale, on the other hand, just came by every once in a while pretending to need to talk to the Youngs about mundane things like the weather.
Which just further proved Adam's powers were still there. How else had Mr. Young gotten Crowley's phone number? And how else could anyone explain that both Mr. and Mrs. Young always looked wary around Crowley, but still allowed him to watch their kid? Or that they both got a glazed over, bored look whenever they so much as caught sight of Aziraphale, but still always answered the door when they saw it was him?
Crowley could be patient when he needed to be, and he was wondering when the kid would break and admit why exactly he wanted Crowley to look after him. Especially when his parents had previously left him to his own devices. Adding in an authority figure didn't seem like the kind of thing Adam would decide to do.
But today he kept glancing up from his homework, apparently stealing himself for the favor he was about to ask. Crowley made a point of leaning back in his chair, trying to look relaxed. He was curious and also wanted to get it over with. His mind had gone over all the possibilities for why Crowley had been the one selected for babysitting duty, and none of the options seemed good.
It was unlikely, for example, that Adam wanted to know about his father – he made it very clear that Mr. Young was his father, and the biological one could go back right to where he came from, thank you very much. Possibly he wanted to know what hell was like. Or what the limits of his power were. Or how much trouble he could get into with his powers plus the help of a demon.
But what Crowley wasn't expecting was for Adam to put down his pencil, sit up straight, look Crowley in the eye and ask “Why aren't you and Mr. Aziraphale married yet?”
He folded his hands like he was a business man giving a performance review. Crowley crossed his arms. “And why would we be?”
“It isn't proper,” Adam insisted, “Mum says people in love get married. That's you two, and you've been in love for a while. Is it cause you're both blokes?” before Crowley could respond “I mean, you both look like guys but that's legal, and my dad says,” And here he adopted a gruffer voice, trying to mimic his dad, “'well, it's uh...it's not for me and I don't understand it but there's uh...there's nothing wrong with it'. And Pepper's mum says it's perfectly natural and ok for two guys to get married if that's what they want,” He paused for a moment and added, almost like an afterthought “Or two ladies. That's alright, too.”
“We're not technically male,” Crowley pointed out. “We're not human. Marriage is a human thing.”
Adam brushed it off, “But you're looking like us and acting like us. Wouldn't it help you blend in more?”
“I don't care if I blend in or not,” as though to make the point, Crowley whipped off his sunglasses so Adam could see his eyes. Adam had seen it before, but he always reacted the same way every time.
“Man, I wish my eyes looked like that,” he grumbled. And just like the last few times, his eyes would take on a snake like pupil for just a moment before flicking back to normal. “But you're trying to 'vade the question.”
“Evade?” Crowley suggested helpfully.
“Yeah, that. It's not right to be in love and not do anything about it when you can.”
“Why does a young boy like you care so much about what an old demon and angel are getting up to? Why do you want us to get married so badly?”
“Weddings can be all right. Wensleydale got to be a groomsmen in his cousin's wedding and he said he got a really big slice of a nice cake afterward.”
“You want us to get married so you can have cake?”
“No,” Adam said, pouting now, “I want you to get married because you love each other. And I want you to let me pick out the cake.”
Crowley chuckled in spite of himself. “That angel would probably never let you pick, he cares a lot about food. Probably already knows who the best caterer is in town for this sort of thing.”
“If you're not going to do it just say so.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you love him or not? Cause I thought when two people love each other they get married. And you're talking about everything else except whether you love him or not. And when Mr. Aziraphale came to trade gardening tips with mum he looked worried and I think he thinks your side's going to attack soon.”
“You want us to get married to take his mind off of Apocalypse 2.0?”
“Ugh, no,” Adam was getting frustrated. To him, it was the most obvious thing in the world – if you're an adult and you love another adult, you get married. Unless you were married to other people, like in that show his mum watched sometimes. Apparently, then you murdered one of the spouses together and then ran off to Mexico.
But Aziraphale and Crowley weren't married to anyone, and Adam had thought it was obvious that they were in love. At first, he thought maybe it was that part of him that just knew things – the part that had lead to that scary day not that long ago where the world had almost ended. But then Pepper had asked him about them, and Brian and Wensleydale had backed her up. It seemed ludicrous that with everything that had happened, they would all end up focusing on the love lives of the demon and angel involved but well, here they were.
“And have you talked about this with the ang-- with Mr. Aziraphale?”
“No,” Adam said simply, “I think he wants you to make the first move.”
Crowley arched an eyebrow. Here some part of him thought he'd been doing nothing but making moves on that angel for the last few centuries. “You are aware we're not a couple, right? Even for humans, you usually don't go from being associates straight to getting married.”
“I think you are a couple.”
“Those weren't the terms of our Arrangement,” Crowley muttered.
“Doesn't matter. Everyone already can see it.”
“You do know that just because people want other people to be together doesn't make it so, right?” Crowley thought for a moment of calling Aziraphale and making him deal with this, but at the same time he wanted to see where this conversation would go. “And that even if we are in love, the way you seem to think we are, we wouldn't have to get married? Even if we were human, humans don't always get married.”
“Not always, but the tax benefits alone usually make it the better choice than just living together,” Adam said with the authority of a child who had overheard that exact argument said by an adult once and was now repeating it with only the slightest glimmer of understanding. “He does know you're in love with him, right?”
“I thought you said we both loved each other,” Crowley was annoyed by how irritated his voice sounded – there was a twinge of longing there that he would like to have been better at hiding.
“Yeah, but I think he needs you to spell it out for him. He knows, but he doesn't know that he knows.”
“I think your parents let you watch too much tv, you know that? I think I should tell them not to let you watch so much of it, and to keep an eye on what you're watching.”
Adam shrugged. “You can try. But I'll still ask you about when you're going to ask Mr. Aziraphale to marry you. I bet you could propose to him with a book – I don't think he'd like a ring. But maybe he would, cause it could match his halo.”
“So you want me to tell him I'm in love with him and then immediately propose to him? That's the long and short of it there, right?”
Adam nodded. “Dog can be your ring bearer. I think I saw that in a movie once. But the dog ran away with the ring and everyone got upset-”
“You just told me not to get him a ring, why would we need a ring bearer if we haven't got a ring?”
Adam thought it over for a moment, cocking his head to the side as he thought. “Ok. So he could be one of the groomsmen with me. And it's not fair to let Wensleydale be one, 'cause he got to be one this year already. But he can be one of those guys who shows people to their seats. And if you ask Pepper to be a flower girl she's going to think I told you to do it and then she's going to punch me, so maybe ask her to be a groomsperson, too?”
“Have you planned out my entire wedding?”
Adam gave a guilty smile that told Crowley everything. “I will take your concerns under advisement,” Crowley had invented so called 'office speak' and this, along with 'per my last e-mail' was one of his favorite responses. It didn't really promise any action, but people responded as though it did.
“You should probably do it now, cause he's on his way over.”
“For what? Your parents won't be back from the movies this soon and he always checked in with them.”
“I told him she'd need help today at 4 o'clock,” he jerked a thumb in the direction of the clock on the wall. It was almost 4 and Aziraphale would either be a little early or exactly on time.
“You lied to an angel. You realize that, right? Literal being from heaven and you lied right to his face.”
“Did not,” Adam shook his head, “I lied to him on the telephone. It's not as bad.”
While Crowley was pretty curious about that particular leap in logic, he didn't have time to get into it with Adam. Aziraphale was knocking at the front door and Adam had jumped up to answer it.
“Hello, Mr. Aziraphale! Crowley's here, too.” Crowley couldn't help notice that Aziraphale always got a “Mr” in front of his name from Adam, but he was always just “Crowley”. He wasn't sure which way he preferred it, to be honest.
“Oh, hello,” Aziraphale greeted him, but then immediately began to look about for the Youngs. “Adam, where are your parents? I thought your mother needed help with something in the house?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“But that's why you called me,” Aziraphale frowned. “Did you lie to me?”
“Yep!” Adam nodded enthusiastically. “I'm sorry.”
“Doesn't look sorry to me,” Crowley muttered.
“Well, dear boy, you're forgiven, but can I ask why you lied?”
“Needed you to come over so you could talk to Crowley!” Adam admitted, ushering Aziraphale in and practically throwing him into a chair at the kitchen table. The one right next to Crowley. Adam shut the front door.
“Crowley and I talk to each other all the time,” Aziraphale only looked more puzzled now. He gave a small wave of his hand and his coat moved from being on him to being hung up neatly on a coat rack (that hadn't been there when he came in).
“Adam has gotten it into his head that,” And here Crowley stopped. He wasn't embarrassed by the thought that he and Aziraphale were in love. Crowley knew exactly how he felt about that angel. But the idea he had been so obvious that a child had picked up on it was making him uncomfortable. And despite Adam's insistence, he wasn't completely certain where Aziraphale stood on the topic.
“Yes?” Aziraphale prompted Crowley to continue.
“I could leave?” Adam suggested. “Give you two alone time?”
“In your parents' house?” Crowley didn't say it, but he wanted to point out that it wasn't the most romantic of locales.
“I could go up to my room or something.”
“No, no,” Aziraphale shook his head, “It's your house and if it's so important to you that we both be here, we should discuss it. Is this, perhaps, about your uh...non-earthly father?”
Adam pulled a face. “That guy's not my dad.”
“True, very true,” The angel nodded his approval. “But then what did you want us both here for?” He shifted his attention back to Crowley. “I'm sure we'd both try to help, whatever it is. We're both in that unique predicament of no longer being on the side of who sent us, so the three of us are ..ship mates, if you will.”
“Mating's got something to do with it,” Crowley muttered so low that neither of them heard him.
“You're an angel, right?” Adam demanded.
“Well, yes, but-”
“So you're supposed to tell the truth, right?”
“I don't know what you're-”
“And you're in love with Crowley,” Adam finished, his eyes boring straight into Aziraphale's.
“I'm not certain this is an appropriate conversation for us to be having,” Aziraphale sat up, ram rod straight and started dusting at his already spotless pants. “Is there something else I could help with?”
“No,” Adam said stubbornly. “If you're an angel then you should do it right. You have to be honest – do you love him?”
Crowley's breath caught in his throat. It had never occurred to him to press Aziraphale in this manner, though he was pretty certain he wouldn't have, even if he had thought of it. Aziraphale was resolutely looking away from both of them, staring at the floor. He looked like he was having an internal debate with himself. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke up.
“Yes,” he said softly.
“Wait,” Crowley jumped out of his seat and flung his glasses off so that he could look Aziraphale in the eye. “You're in love with me?”
“Well, yes...” he admitted. “But aren't you in love with me, too? I had thought you were. Did I misunderstand?”
“Did you misunderstand?! Did you misunderstand?” Crowley paced back and forth in the kitchen. Adam and Aziraphale exchanged glances, both confused about what was going through the demon's mind now. “I didn't bloody think you felt the same! This whole time! How long, angel?” he demanded.
“At least since Germany...possibly further back. I don't know.”
“And this isn't one of those things where you mean like a friend, right?”
“No. I mean, at first, yes, I loved you like a friend and then it ...it became more.”
“And you knew how I felt and you didn't say anything?!”
“I didn't think I needed to,” he shifted. “I thought you knew and that we didn't do anything because of ...well, you come from there and I come from the other side so I didn't see how it could possibly work.”
“And now?”
“Now what?”
“Now what, he says!” Crowley threw up his hands and looked at Adam, giving a 'do you see what I've been dealing with all this time' look. “Now neither of us is with our original sides – heaven tried to kill you, hell tried to kill me and we were both tossed back here. Aziraphale,” Crowley put his hands on the other man's shoulders, “There is nothing holding us back anymore.”
“There's nothing holding us back,” Aziraphale repeated in wonder. “We could ...I could...”
Crowley pulled him up from his seat and immediately went in for the kiss. Adam looked away, trying not to intrude on their moment.
Aziraphale pulled away first. “There's a child present.”
“It's just a kiss,” Crowley muttered, “That kid's seen way worse on tv.”
“That's true, I have,” Adam admitted. “Neither of you has any secret spouse you're going to have to kill, right? I like you two, I don't want you to have to go off to Mexico.”
“What is he talking about?”
“No idea, angel,” Crowley had his arm around Aziraphale's shoulder and seemed intent not to move it.
“So are you going to get married now?” Adam persisted. “Now that you know he feels the same?”
“But we aren't human-”
“Don't even start with him, it's a lost cause, trust me. Look, Adam, we are not getting married. ….at least not yet.”
“Do you think we should?” Aziraphale looked thoughtful. “If we end up moving in together it would seem more proper, don't you think?”
“And it will save you money on taxes,” Adam offered helpfully.
“We'll revisit the question,” Crowley insisted. “You and I have a lot of catching up to do. You'll be all right then, Adam?”
“Yeah, my homework's done. Will you still come sit with me sometimes?”
“Do I even have a choice in the matter?” Crowley pointed out. Adam gave a crooked half grin in response.
“We all have a choice. You just needed a little nudge this time.”
#Good Omens#Good Omens fanfic#Ineffable Husbands#Aziraphale#crowley#adam young#fluff#also there are some jokes
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October Drabbles
Previous drabbles
26. Garden (post-canon Wangxian featuring bunnies)
Wei Wuxian doesn’t have a farm yet, but he does have a garden on the back hill in Cloud Recesses. “Why here?” Lan Wangji asked him when he started planting. “The rabbits will eat everything.”
“I don’t mind if my hard work goes to feeding the rabbits,” Wei Wuxian responded, grinning. “Besides, I’m not here consistently enough to tend to it and harvest things when they’re ready. At least this way, someone will enjoy the fruits—or vegetables, I suppose—of my labor. And maybe then they’ll love me like they love you.”
Lan Wangji smiled, petting one of the rabbits as they both curiously watched Wei Wuxian work. “I’m sure they will.”
It’s debatable, a few months later, whether the rabbits love Wei Wuxian any more than before, but they do love Wei Wuxian’s garden, and Lan Wangji loves watching him kneeling in the dirt, celebrating the first shoots of a new plant or complaining when the rabbits ate one before it even had a chance to grow. He looks so happy, so comfortable, so relaxed, not the fearsome Yiling Laozu or the brilliant cultivator Wei Wuxian with his ever-active mind, but just an ordinary young man, content with his simple life, with no fears and no painful memories weighing on him.
“What’s that look for?” Wei Wuxian asks, eyeing Lan Wangji with a freshly pulled carrot in his hand. There’s dirt on his cheek and a sparkle in his eyes.
Lan Wangji says nothing, keeping his thoughts to himself, but Wei Wuxian smiles like perhaps he knows anyway, and cheerfully turns back to his garden.
27. Serendipity (Wei Wuxian canon gen/character study)
It would be easy to think that Wei Wuxian has bad luck. He lost his parents young, and then the people who took him in when he was alone. He lost his adopted sister, and the people who lived with him like family for a year. He lost his golden core and the trust and respect of his peers, and the love of his adopted brother. He lost his home, and the one he found to replace it. And after all of that, he lost his life too soon.
But if you ask Wei Wuxian, he’ll tell you he’s lucky. He lost his parents, but then he was taken in by a new family. Sure, they weren’t perfect, but they saved him from a lonely life on the streets and they loved him, mostly. He lost them too, though not all at once, but then he had the Wens to care about him. That didn’t last, but he got Wen Ning and Sizhui back, at least, and he has the other junior disciples who are ready to fight for him, and Lan Wangji, of course. As much as he’s lost, he’s also been loved by many people, and isn’t that lucky?
As for the rest, well, the loss of his golden core was a fair trade for Jiang Cheng’s life, and it led him to abilities that helped avenge the Jiang Sect and defeat Wen Ruohan and later Jin Guangyao. He’s not the strong cultivator he was as a teenager, but he’s found new ways to be strong and fight the battles he needs to fight. He’s also blazed a new path and invented new things and made a name for himself, in his own way. Isn’t that lucky?
And yes, he died once, painfully, but that’s over and done with and he got a second chance at life. In his second life, he’s fallen in love, made new friends, done some good in the world, and at least done a little to make up for his past mistakes. So few people get a chance like that, including many who are much more deserving than him, so in the final sum, isn’t he lucky?
28. Drunk Confessions (junior quartet gen)
It started with a few bottles of wine and Zizhen declaring that true friends share their secrets with each other, but nobody could have imagined that it would end like this.
"You're what?" Jin Ling asks, his voice low and strained.
"You're what?!" Jingyi echoes in a loud squawk.
"I'm a Wen," Sizhui repeats, his nervous expression belying his calm voice.
"You never told me!" Jingyi's voice is still far too loud, his expression almost comically betrayed. "How could I not know that?"
"You knew Hanguang-Jun took me in," Sizhui points out.
"Yes, but I thought your parents were Lan cultivators who died back then, or at least non-cultivators from Gusu. Not...Wens." Jingyi grimaces, but wipes the expression of his face when he sees Sizhui's face fall.
“Sizhui is still the same person, right?" Zizhen puts in. "And we know Wen Ning's a nice guy. It's not like all Wens are bad."
"Right," Jingyi firmly agrees. "But I can't believe you didn’t tell me sooner!”
"I didn't know until recently. After meeting Wei-qianbei and Wen Ning, some memories came back." Sizhui finishes the drink in front of him, getting some liquid courage before he looks at the conspicuously silent Jin Ling. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I hope this doesn't change anything between us."
Jin Ling clenches his fist on the table, brow furrowed, and for a long, tense moment, the whole group is silent. Finally, he sighs exasperatedly and says, "Well, it's far from the worst secret I've heard about someone I knew. Do you two at least not have any dark secrets?" He waves his cup and Jingyi and Zizhen.
"None, I promise," Zizhen declares.
"If I do, I don't know them myself," Jingyi says.
"I've met his parents," Sizhui interjects. "They're nice, normal Lan cultivators for several generations back."
"Good," Jin Ling says. To Sizhui, he adds, "For this, you can at least buy us another bottle or two of wine."
Sizhui smiles brightly, getting to his feet. "Right away."
29. Cars (modern AU Wangxian featuring the Jiang sibs)
Jiang Cheng says Wei Ying drives like a maniac. Wei Ying says Jiang Cheng is a wimp and also boring and besides, he doesn’t go any faster than he can safely drive, but he does always slow down when he sees Jiang Cheng’s knuckles turning white.
“You’d better drive more carefully on your date with Lan Zhan,” Jiang Cheng tells him. “He probably drives perfectly the speed limit and obeys every traffic law to the letter. He won’t be able to deal with you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Wei Ying insists. “And it’s not a date!”
“Just don’t rush,” Yanli says. “You’ll have more time with Lan Zhan that way. And I’m pretty sure it is a date.”
“Not you too,” Wei Ying whines.
Later, though, when he picks Lan Zhan up and sees him looking very dashing even though he’s in what passes for casual clothes with him, Wei Ying has to admit that okay, yes, he wants it to be a date, and sure, okay, he wants to impress Lan Zhan, or at least not scare him away by driving too wildly. He forces himself to go only a little above the speed limit as he drives to the cafe where they’re going to study together, and Lan Zhan doesn’t complain or grab the panic handle like Jiang Cheng does.
On the way home, though, after endless hours of Lan Zhan sitting across from him looking casually hot but looking at his textbook or talking about economics instead of kissing Wei Ying, he forgets himself and drives as usual. Lan Zhan doesn’t say anything, so Wei Ying doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he stops in front of Lan Zhan’s building and sees him looking suspiciously paler than usual, his hand still gripping the door handle. “Oh, uh, Lan Zhan…you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Lan Zhan says tightly.
“Say, um…” Wei Ying feels bad and all, but he’s spent hours not kissing Lan Zhan and wishing this was a date and he just has to know if maybe it was, or at least could be. He unbuckles his seatbelt, turns in his seat and presses his lips to Lan Zhan’s. He’s not expecting to promptly get pulled into Lan Zhan’s lap, but he’s definitely not complaining, especially when it’s followed up with a whole lot more kissing.
They only stop when someone honks and Wei Ying realizes he didn’t pick the best parking spot for making out. “So,” he says, grinning shamelessly as he moves back into the driver’s seat, “let’s go out on another date some time soon?”
“All right,” Lan Zhan agrees without hesitation. He’s not smiling, but he is eyeing Wei Ying in a way that he really likes. “But next time, I’ll drive.”
30. Dessert (modern AU Wangxian, just a tiny bit NSFW)
The first time Wei Ying sees Lan Zhan in a cafe daintily eating whipped cream off the top of a parfait, he can’t believe his eyes. There’s something so unexpected about strong, serious, stoic, ever-responsible Lan Zhan enjoying any kind of dessert, let alone the same kind Wei Ying’s sister and her friends love—unexpected and adorable.
“Wow, Lan Zhan! I had you pegged for the health food 24/7 type,” Wei Ying says, sneaking up on him from behind. He’s obviously trying to surprise Lan Zhan, but he doesn’t expect it to actually work, so he’s thrilled when it makes Lan Zhan jump and then turn a glare on him. “Hey, no judgment. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying something sweet.” The temptation to stick his finger in the whipped cream and dab some onto Lan Zhan’s nose is so strong, but Wei Ying doesn’t want to die today, so he restrains himself.
It takes nearly a year after that encounter for them to start dating, though Wei Ying does manage to put whipped cream on Lan Zhan’s face twice before that. (Maybe he should have guessed that Lan Zhan liked him, despite never mentioning it, by how he didn’t murder Wei Ying for doing that.) It takes another five months after they get together for Wei Ying to convince Lan Zhan that whipped cream will also be delicious when licked off his body, but oh, is it worth it.
31. Trick or Treat (modern cultivation AU, A-Yuan and Wangxian)
“I want to go as Uncle Wen!” A-Yuan declares.
Wei Wuxian blinks at him, turns and blinks at Lan Wangji, and then starts to laugh. “I mean, I think a ghost or a vampire or a cat or something is more typical, but sure, you can go as a fierce corpse.”
“Not a fierce corpse!” A-Yuan protests. “Uncle Wen!”
Lan Wangji gives Wei Wuxian his patented You are not treating this child as he should be treated look. “Yes, of course,” Wei Wuxian amends. “We’ll find you the best Wen Ning costume anyone has ever had.” “Can Uncle Wen come with me?” A-Yuan asks. Wen Ning won’t do well with crowds or a sugar high A-Yuan, but on the other hand, he’ll blend in on Halloween in a way he usually can’t. “We’ll all come with you,” Lan Wangji tells him. “Yay!” A-Yuan jumps up and down in excitement. “What will you be? Ooh, I know! You should be a bunny.” He gestures at Lan Wangji, and then to Wei Wuxian, “And you should be a carrot.” “A carrot?” Wei Wuxian grimaces. “Come on, between the two of us, don’t I look more like a bunny?” “At least he didn’t say a donkey.” Lan Wangji keeps his voice low, and before A-Yuan can demand that he repeat it, says, “Those are excellent choices.” “You’re so mean to me,” Wei Wuxian whines, but that doesn’t stop him from going out on Halloween evening in a big carrot costume, hand in hand with rabbit Lan Wangji, with mini Wen Ning skipping on ahead of them and actual Wen Ning looking fondly on.
#mo dao zu shi#mdzs#cql#the untamed#mdzs fic#cql fanfic#the untamed fic#wangxian#wangxian fic#wei wuxian#lan wangji#lan sizhui#jin ling#lan jingyi#jiang cheng#jiang yanli#mine#fic#flufftober
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Soulmate Shenanigans Part Two (Electric Boogaloo)
Good morning (or at least, I’ve started writing this in the morning! Who knows when I’ll complete it)!
I’m continuing my Soulmate AU Tomfoolery (you can find part one here)
Prompt #2
There is a timer that counts down to when you will meet your soulmate.
Warnings for death mentions, and temporary major character death
World Building
Everyone blames the mad scientist.
Which is fair. When someone makes billions of clocks in about a weeks time, each declaring when everyone in the world (including people who wouldn’t be born for decades) would find their soulmate, it’s considered to polite to stick around to answer questions
Instead, Logan disappeared to who-knows-where and left everyone else to pick up the pieces.
Rude.
Ever since the early 1910′s, the clocks have existed, one for each person. When any kid is born, the first thing a new parent does is rush to the register to see when they’ll meet their soulmate. It’s a big deal.
If your child isn’t going to meet their soulmate in the next 13 years, they are told the exact number on their 13th birthday
Philosophers have been enraged by all of this. Is free will a thing? Is existence a lie?
Non-philosophers will often close their curtains when they see a wandering philosopher, which are easy to identify by their look of abject confusion and plucked chickens.
Characters
Remus: Remus pretended that he didn’t care about who his soulmate was when his 13th birthday rolled along. He wasn’t the best actor.
His brother seemed happy when he found out that it would be sixteen years until he found his soulmate. 29 wasn’t a bad age at all, considering that some people would have to wait until they were old and in a nursing home, or would never even meet their soulmate at all.
Remus waited for his parents to tell him. They gave each other nervous looks, and he was convinced for a few seconds that he didn’t have a soulmate after all.
The actual answer was much weirder
526 years. 526 years until he met his soulmate.
Remus said a silent thank you to his soulmate for making him functionally immortal. After all, that meant that he’d survive until then!
HE WAS IMMORTAL
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Now, whenever someone would try to say something like, “Why do you like serial killers? Planning to become one?”, he could just look them dead in the eye and say,
I’m going to outlive you, Brian
(On an unrelated note, Brian disappeared a few months later. It actually wasn’t Remus’s fault, surprisingly. One minute, he was at a museum, the next, gone)
Remus would be fine with never finding his soulmate, honestly. Connection is nice, but being eldritch is more fun.
Virgil: Virgil didn’t want to be immortal
Sure, he wasn’t a fan of dying in practice, but in theory he didn’t want to live to over 250!
His family and friends were going to die, and he’d have to live through it. And for what? To meet a soulmate? Who gave a fuck? Virgil had never wanted a romantic relationship in his life, and he didn’t think that a 526 year wait was going to change that.
He was determined to find his soulmate early so that he could live a normal life like a normal person who doesn’t cause additional distress to the wandering philosophers.
Plot
It was easy to find Remus. Local Child Will Live To Over 500 makes a good headline, and Remus wasn’t one to shy away from attention.
When Virgil was 16, he packed his bags and ran away from home to go meet his soulmate. He didn’t ask Janus how he got the bus tickets, but he did ask him to tell his parents that he’d be okay.
Virgil knocked on the door, and waited. Someone who looked almost exactly like the news site photo answered. The conversation went something like this:
Virgil: So, YOU’RE Remus McFricking Sanders-
Roman: Nope, not him, whatever he said isn’t my fault.
[Roman slams door]
Virgil was pretty sure that he had, in fact, met Remus, and he was just being annoying. Roman believed that his brother had just manage to piss off yet another person.
Virgil retreated to a restaurant, and looked up the photo on the news article, just to make sure. No denying it, that was him! Same eyes, same hair, same general face-wait.
Remus had a nose that had obviously been broken at least once. The guy who’d greeted him at the door had definitely been in less scrapes than his soulmate.
Whoops.
Meanwhile, Remus had a plan to avoid Virgil at all cost. Virgil had tried to shy away from press attention, but he tracked down a photo eventually.
And when his brother told him that some emo with “awesome” eyes had turned up on the doorstep looking for him, he had a bad feeling.
Well, spooky boy wasn’t going to cost him his long future.
And so the dance began.
In one corner, Virgil, who had spite, stubbornness, and a deadline on his side (he had to get home to his parents eventually)! Never discount a spiteful Virgil!
In the other corner, Remus, who has nothing on his side but fate. Fate, however, has a sense of humor, and Remus read enough old myths as a child to know that whatever happens can’t be changed by petty human actions.
Virgil tries breaking and entering many times, each failing in a more ridiculous way. He is a careful, but Remus is practically Kevin McCallister in terms of traps, and he fails to meet his soulmate face to face all day and all night.
They do get to have some verbal exchanges, which are pretty much
Virgil: You think you want the existential hell of immortality??
Remus: Oh, fuck off, I’m going to have the best vampire aesthetic!
Virgil: The vampire aesthetic is wonderful, but can we do everything for aesthetic?
Both at the same time: Yes. Yes we can.
And then Virgil is herded out of the house by Remus’s pet rats.
However, the final encounter goes a little differently. No witty quips, just Virgil picking the lock of yet another window, and then a very specific sound.
Have you ever heard a stubborn emo get pulled into a portal in the spacetime continuum?
It’s a distinct sound that is along the lines of loud crash-The fu-whirring noises-nyoom-eerie silence
Remus didn’t give a second thought before diving into the portal after him. If he had, he would have thought hey, this’ll probably bring us face to face, something I’ve been avoiding or maybe jumping into random portals in a stupid idea or I’m going to grab a weapon before just running at it. But his first impulse was to make sure his snarky soulmate hadn’t died, so into the portal he went.
The Year: 2550
The Portal: Glows a lot, thank you for asking
The Reason: A mad scientist has only one thing left to lose, and is terrified as it slips away
Logan: Logan was a geek at heart. He loved science, in both theories and practice. He probably should have toned down his obsession with Nikola Tesla. He wanted to travel to the sky, and touch the stars, and watch time like a film reel.
Time travel was his passion. If people could travel across the physical seas, why not the metaphorical ones of time?
It was pure luck that he actually figured it out, but figure it out he did. Logan loved his creation.
He wanted to create a million inventions, but more importantly he wanted Patton to see them all.
If there was one thing he loved more than science, it was him.
The two kept each other from drifting off into the stars, or sinking into the dirt because they’re too afraid of being rude. One of Logan’s favorite memories was he and Patton running through the St. Louis fair, giggling at terrible puns and sharing a quick kiss out of sight, before catching the next exposition.
Patton was kind, and caring, and knew how to talk to people to get them to like him, and was just good. He was good.
Logan dealt only in facts. And it was a fact that it would have been better, more fair for Logan to have died in the fire.
It was a fact that he didn’t (even though it felt like it sometimes). It was a fact that Patton had been the one to notice the smoke. It was a fact that the love of his life waited for a few seconds in the doorway, trying to call the cat out. It was a fact that, after Logan was out of the house, he turned around to see the doorway collapse.
He found a way back into the house, but it took too long.
Fact: Humans can only endure severe smoke inhalation for a few minutes before dying.
Logan took one look at his time machine, somehow still undamaged. He’d never tested it before, but he really didn’t have a choice, so he kissed Patton on the forehead and stepped into a portal.
Back To The Plot
Virgil and Remus immediately knew that they were in the 26th century.
How? There was a sign!
Hey! If You Happen To Be A Time Traveler, This Is 2550! Check In With The Lord Cerebrum To Know More, Unless You Don’t Have A License, In Which Case
You Know What Happens
They don’t have much time to mull over this before Remus tries to murder Virgil. He’s not IMMORTAL any more, and it’s not FAIR, and it’s all HIS fault!
This is where we enter the Rivals To Friends (While On The Run From Time Management) section
Remus and Virgil have many adventures escaping from Time Management, while learning to appreciate the other as a friend. They are platonic soulmates, after all!
But Time Management is nothing if not patient, and the boys are caught eventually (you know how it goes. You forget to check around for listening ears, you use 21st century slang, and suddenly a single “yeet” and a “same” get you dragged before the Lord Cerebrum)
A Handy Dandy Guide To The Year 2550 (transcript from the Handy Dandy Infomercial Station)
Hey, time travelers! I know that everyone likes zipping around the time-stream and seeing what the fates throw at them to keep them from murdering their grandpa, but we have to do this by the Rules!
If you break the rules, you know what happens
The Year 2550 is protected by Logos Industries’s time dilation filter, to ensure that no one gets the wrong idea about going free range!
If you have a license, just proceed to the Lord Cerebrum to get your stamp of approval and philosopher disguise for the maximum positive effect! After all, Logos Industries needs funding to protect us all!
If you don’t have a license, you’ll see the Lord Cerebrum too!
Have a Handy Dandy Time :)
Back To The Plot
The boys are led through a menacing government facility, taken to see the Lord Cerebrum. They try to ask questions, but Time Management is rather disinterested in their fleeting existence, so nothing much gets answered.
The final destination is a computer room, where the Lord Cerebrum sits. His form was half hologram, half skin, his age unchanging for 526 years, and recognizable at first sight to Remus
Lord Cerebrum, aka Brain, aka Brian: Hey, Remus, what exactly did you say about outliving me?
Brian: Brian was a dick. There’s no other way to put it.
He and Remus used to be friends, sticking brand new phones in water to see what would happen and planning out pranks (they made their history teacher think that she was being haunted by the ghost of Charlemagne!), but things changed, and by 8th grade his dickishness was on full display
It was really easy to get away with being cruel to Remus. He naturally unnerved people, and anyone in a position of power immediately knew he was trouble (which was true), so when there was a conflicting story between a star student and the kid who poured ketchup in the principal’s desk, you can guess who’d always get believed.
Brian was a dick, but he was 13. He could have grown later in life, regretted his ways (or at least stopped), but instead he touched an antique time machine on a museum tour of the Clock House (home of Logan, the famous inventor of soulmate clocks).
He’d been planning to snap off the handle and pin it on Remus (or maybe Roman for variety), but instead
Crash-what the-whirring noises-nyoom-eerie silence
And Brian arrived in the year 2520, the first of many time travellers.
He became a celebrity. The parts of him lost in the wormhole were quickly replaced with state-of-the-art holograms, and his fame went to his head.
Thirty years of good marketing later, he was the Lord Cerebrum. And when a desperate mad scientist came crashing through a portal of his own, it was easy to get him to work for him under the promise that Brian would let him save his “Patton” once he made some technology for him.
He recognized Logan from the museum. He knew who’s fault it was that he was trapped travelling through time, whirling through the portal, praying and promising and in the end just screaming. Brian knew who was to blame for the fact that he couldn’t tell how much of his body would stay when the power went out.
So the tasks got longer and more complicated, Patton dangled like a carrot over Logan’s head.
Fact: Logan would never win, and someday Brian would get tired of this game and there would only be one genius left in 2550.
Back To The Plot: Virgil punched the Lord Cerebrum in the face. He didn’t know all of the context, but his best friend seemed not to like the guy, and he seemed evil, so he punched the overlord in the face.
Brian was offended, and abandoned all plans for a monologue in favor of leaving them to die.
The most fitting way to do away with a time traveler is to send them everywhere at once. It’s an awful death, one where molecules are slowly lost as the traveler in question hits walls and trees and memories.
The duo managed to survive five or so timelines, before the machine miraculously shut off. A mad scientist ran into the room, unscrewed the vents in the walls, and told the teenagers that they’re late.
Things are explained as they escape the facility.
Things
Logan needed a way to break the time dilation filter. He did the math (which he tried and failed to explain to the boys), and it was determined that Remus and Virgil had the most butterfly effect capabilities to influence this particular event
Basically, removing them from the timeline changed things just enough for Logan to find the chink in the filter’s armor.
The duo’s job is done, and Logan is only sorry that he didn’t find them earlier to get them home.
Back To The Plot
Everything seems like it’s going to be fine, and the duo are almost able to go home, when the Lord Cerebrum finds them.
CLIMATIC SHOWDOWN
An Ending
In the end, Brian is sent to the 22th century, the year where nearly all of humanity were turned into giant rats for some reason
Logan found his way back to the 1910′s, and used the 26th century technology to heal his love. The time machine burned in the fire. Good. Space travel was where it was at, anyway.
Virgil had so much explaining to do to his parents
Remus knew that no one would believe him. Roman did.
Virgil and Remus stayed the closest of friends. They dressed up as vampires for Halloween. They stuck together. They got to grow up.
More soulmate shenanigans, amiright?
#sanders sides#ts sides#remus sanders#virgil sanders#logan sanders#logicality#platonic dukexiety#time travel#soulmate au#beware the drafts of march#soulmate shenanigans#unsympathetic brian#i don't know why this random shorts character is awful in my mind#i'm sure he's a perfectly nice fictional character#i love writing#fan fic#sanders side fic#sanders sides fic
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day 19 - 19th century au (thor/tony)
Anthony Stark is an odd one. He may be an earl, but unlike the rest of society, he prefers to spend his time away from Town, instead holing up in his family’s grand country estate. Which would almost be acceptable if he actually kept enough staff on hand to keep it looking as a grand country estate should, and if he ever invited people over or visited others in the countryside.
Instead he spends his days alone, working on all kinds of fantastical inventions. Half of them don’t work and the other half seem completely pointless, so they may as well have been the same thing. Lord Stark doesn’t seem to mind though, never discouraged by his setbacks or failures. He just thinks it all over and starts again.
When Thor first started working at the manor, he agreed that Stark was an odd sort, but that he was ultimately harmless. Thor hailed from the village closest to Stark Manor, as his parents had before him, and everyone generally agreed that Anthony is a better lord than his father was. He doesn’t overtax his tenants and treats what staff he still had working the estate well. There were far worse jobs.
Nowadays, Thor can’t imagine working anywhere else, and not just because he quite likes his job as the main caretaker of the Stark Manor stables.
Stark only keeps four horses and employs only one groom and one stable boy, despite Thor’s repeated suggestions that he ought to hire a coachman as well. Stark always replied that he never went anywhere so what would he need a coachman constantly on hand for, and anyway wasn’t Thor skilled enough to handle the carriage when it was needed?
He was, but that was beside the point.
There isn’t much work to be done today so Thor’s given the stable boy the rest of the day off. The weather is nice and summer is coming soon to an end, so he might as well enjoy it while he can. Thor goes about brushing the four horses and giving them their feed, making sure they’re all still in good health.
He’s so absorbed in his work that he doesn’t even hear the footsteps approaching the stables.
“Hard at work?” Lord Stark asks, and Thor looks up from brushing the pretty bay-colored horse that’s his favorite.
He smiles, surprised to see Stark away from his inventions and out of the house in the middle of the day. “As always, my lord.”
Stark laughs and walks closer, giving Thor a chance to see him better. He normally dressed casually, no jacket over his shirt and waistcoat, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, and today was no exception. Thor was always glad when Stark forwent a tailcoat because it meant a much better view of him in those extraordinarily tight pants. The one good thing about the nobility and the obscene amounts of money they spend is that half that money seems to go into tailoring pants so they’re as form-fitting as possible.
“So hard that you couldn’t spare a few minutes?” Stark asks.
Thor sets aside the brush and makes sure Friday has enough to eat before he exits her stall, meeting Stark halfway.
“I could probably spare just a few,” he replies, grinning, and Stark closes the distance between them to make good use of those minutes.
Thor has to lean down to kiss him, but Stark never seems to mind. He grips Thor’s collar and pulls him down into a hungry kiss, and Thor wraps his arms around Stark’s slim waist, pulling him closer. After a few minutes of heated kissing, Thor expects Stark to let him go and continue on his way. Instead Stark slides a thigh between Thor’s legs and tugs at his shirt so it becomes untucked and he can slide a hand up under it.
The stables aren’t exactly Thor’s first choice for an assignation, but he’ll make do.
Afterwards, when they’re flushed and fully sated, their clothing a mess, Thor laughs and rolls onto his back in the pile of hay, glad he’d cleaned out everything this morning. Stark tries to catch his breath beside him, and Thor doesn’t hesitate to reach out and scoop him up with one arm, drawing him closer to lie down on top of him.
“So what brings you down from your tower, hm?” he asks, basking in Stark’s presence for as long as he can. He assumes Stark had some pressing business he couldn’t ignore anymore and then decided to stop and see Thor when he was finished. “Some new invention not working out?”
Stark props himself up on Thor’s chest, his mussed up hair falling down over his eyes, and Thor reaches up again to brush it back from his face.
“Is this not enough of a reason?” Stark replies, looking puzzled.
Thor stops carding his fingers back through Stark’s hair, resting his hand on his shoulder instead. “You don’t normally venture out,” he reminds him gently. “You’re normally working.”
Stark makes a disgruntled sound. “Well, perhaps I should venture out more.”
Thor knows better than to get his hopes up, but he can’t help being optimistic. “You don’t have to interrupt your work for my sake. I know how important it is to you.”
Stark frowns, like he can’t decide whether he should agree with Thor or not. Finally he settles on, “But maybe I ought to. For you.”
“Oh,” Thor whispers, because that’s as good as a declaration of love from Stark. “Truly?”
Stark nods, and Thor brings up both hands to cup Stark’s face and kiss him thoroughly, not caring if the horses see. They’ve already seen worse.
“I look forward to your interruptions,” Thor murmurs, brushing his thumbs lightly over Stark’s cheekbones and then down over the neat cut of his beard. He’s not sure Stark even realizes facial hair hasn’t been in fashion for the upper class for years now.
Stark smiles, tilting his head to kiss one of Thor’s thumbs. “Should I let you get back to work?”
“The horses can wait,” Thor replies without hesitation, not about to give up a moment of this before he has to.
“Good,” Stark says, and kisses Thor again with gusto.
#thunderiron#thortony#tonythor#thor odinson#tony stark#thor x tony#my fic#alternate universe#mcu#2020 nano challenge#i stole half this premise from the lawrence browne affair by cat sebastian which i IMPLORE you to read#all her gay regency romance novels are so fun and sweet#i love regency aus so i had to force myself to make this short or it'd be 4 pages of backstory for no reaon
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hello! could you do headcanons for javi and reader where they were fake dating (maybe being undercover or something idk it's up to you!) turned real dating 😊
so first of all, @themandjalorian is already writing a fic very much like this, its very good and you should totally check it out here
i wrote out a bit of an undercover thing then i wasn’t feeling it, and i remembered the only fanfic i wrote in high school, which was this adorable fake dating thing i never published and it was based on some prompt about a character having been telling their grandparents about this s/o and them actually just being the neighbor, but then the grandparents come visit and want to meet the s/o so i’m going with something similar to that since it was kind of cute. idk how pleased I am with the final product... but it’s cute.
You had gotten so fed up with your parents asking you if you were dating anyone during your weekly phone calls that one day you burst and said it
“Okay! I’m dating someone! Is that what you wanted to hear? His name’s… Javier”
They were thrilled for you. Their calls started ending with “how’s it going with Javier” and they expected a little tidbit every time. About Javier. Your neighbor with whom you had only shared about 10 words with.
You had a crush on him, admittedly. It was easy to fall for that charming smile you saw strutting around the embassy. And yeah, you lived in the same building, and both worked at the embassy (in very different departments) but that didn’t mean you had a chance to talk with him.
The real danger of describing the fantasy of your relationship with Javier was that as your parents began to believe it, so did you. You saw him in the hallways and your brain was flooded with thoughts of your fantastical relationship.
But you never managed to work up the guts to even say hello to him.
That is, until your parents give you a call saying they’re coming down for two weeks to visit and they want to meet Javier, how about taking the two of you out to dinner the first night?
And you agree before realizing how bad of an idea it is.
In your panic you go running to Javier’s door because he has to agree or you’re going to have an awkward conversation with your parents.
You practically bang down his door and when he opens it, standing there, one arm on the door, hip popped out, you freeze, speechless.
“What can I do for you?”
“Um…”
It takes a very long pause for you to squeak out, “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”
He laughs. “Did Steve put you up to this?”
You flush. This was awful. He was laughing in your face.
“No, I—this was stupid I’m sorry. I should have known. You don’t know me at all, and— you know what? Can we just forget this ever happened?”
But when he sees you retreating, looking completely shot down, he feels a little pang of guilt.
“Wait! ...You were being serious? Do you want to come in? Have a drink?”
Your heart soars. He just invited you into his apartment? Of course you say yes.
The story spills out over a glass of whiskey. When you get to the end, carefully replacing the part where you chose his name because of your massive crush with some half-assed lie about how you had seen him in the hallway the day you started the lie and he was the first face that crossed your mind, Javier sits for a good two minutes, the silence almost killing you.
“Sounds like fun. I’ll do it. ”
Which is not the response you were expecting but you’re grateful and jumping right into giving him all the background information on your pretend relationship and your parents and Javier is just sitting back, smiling and taking it all in.
After an hour you’re both on your second glasses of whiskey and feeling a bit like you had known each other for more than the short time you had actually spoken.
You go home, smiling to yourself, because if you were being perfectly honest the whole thing felt a bit like a date and you had fallen for him a bit more.
You are fucked.
The day your parents arrive comes way too quickly and before you know it you’re sitting at a fancy restaurant, Javier at your side, and he’s lying his ass off about how you two met and you’re utterly confused as to where this Javier came from.
Where was the Javier who slept with another woman every night? The Javier who drank whiskey alone on a work night? The Javier who knew every prostitute in town? The Javier who any parent would hate to have their daughter date?
This was an entirely different man, one who was inventing a relationship you could only dream of being part of.
The little moments when he touches your arm and smiles so reassuringly, they feel so real.
You thought this would be a good idea and now your stomach is churning at the elaborate lie you’ve woven for your parents, and the one you’ve woven for yourself.
Javi wasn’t in love with you. He hardly even knew you. And he definitely didn’t mean a single word he was saying nor action he was doing.
And it was so much worse as the week went on.
Your parents asked why you weren’t living together, which was embarrassing enough a question on its own, but only made worse by Javier’s immediate reaction of disgust before covering it up with a cough and an excuse about wanting to take it slow.
And one night Javier had warned you he had to leave a dinner at your apartment early, and the way he shuffled a bit and didn’t explain why was enough of a clue that he had an informant to meet.
It was so much worse when he kissed you before leaving. On the lips. Long and much more intimate than you were expecting.
You realize halfway through your parents visit that your feelings had somehow escalated as you got to know Javier more.
You no longer had a little crush on the man.
You had fallen in love because you had fallen for a lie.
At that point things begin to change. Your gazes become a little bit more real, and your touches linger a little bit longer.
The day arrives that your parents are leaving and Javier joins you in driving them to the airport.
His hand is around your waist as you wave the two goodbye. As they disappear into the crowds of the international departures, you don’t know when to let go.
Javi is the first to drop his hand. And the ghost of his touch burns on your side a bit more than it should.
The drive home is silent. It’s not until you get back to the apartment building that you say something.
“What was in it for you?”
He’s silent and you realize how rude that sounds.
“I’m sorry, I just meant—Thank you. Javier. You saved my ass.”
He gets out of the car and you follow him up the stairs. He turns to enter his apartment and you continue on, but he calls your name.
“I did it because it was nice to pretend things were normal for a bit. Working for the DEA, we don’t get nice things like that.”
And as much as it hurts to know it wasn’t about you at all, it hurts more that Javier feels that way. You had learnt enough about him and his work in the past weeks that you know how much of a commitment it is. You just didn’t know how much it took away from someone’s life.
The real pain comes that night when you hear the loud sounds of Javier fucking someone. The ones everyone in the damn complex are familiar with. The ones that feel like a bucket of ice water was dumped on your head, reminding you how not Javier’s you are.
It’s not until work the next week when Javier walks by your desk and catches sight of how dejected you look. It’s not unlike his own appearance, if you were being perfectly honest.
That night you get a knock on the door. You open to Javier who’s got a six-pack of beer.
“I don’t know why you look like you’ve been trampled over but I haven’t had the greatest week ever and honestly you’re the only person I’ve enjoyed spending time with in the past two months so I thought we could maybe cheer each other up?”
You’re so surprised that you step aside, forgetting momentarily that he’s the reason you look like crap.
Three hours later you’ve moved onto some strong liquors, and are tumbling over one another, laughing and telling stories and talking like you’ve known each other for years.
And suddenly his lips are on yours and you’re kissing back.
You don’t remember much the next morning, but Javi and you are both naked in your bed. It’s not too much of a jump to the conclusion that you slept with each other.
He’s already awake, and you begin the process of kicking him out of bed. And out of your apartment.
“I’m sorry, Javi,” you say, pushing him out of the door. You didn’t want to become another number in his long line of women. But somehow last night didn’t feel like he was just using you.
“Wait. Tell me you didn’t want that?”
“What?”
“Am I reading into things wrong? Or is there something here?”
The change in tone gives you pause. Enough to seriously question everything you thought about Javier.
“...did you want that?” you whisper.
“I think I did—”
“You think?”
“No. I know. I know I did.” He’s staring at you now.
“So did I.” You take a step forward, pressing your lips gently against his.
#javier peña#javier pena#javier peña x reader#javier pena x reader#javier peña headcanons#camila writes#rated t#under 2#fluff#angst#c headcanon#request#narcos fic#javi x reader#anonymous#ask camila
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