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devotion · 3 years

Text

say it right → t.h

summary: you show a little contempt towards something tom loves. maybe somehow coaxing you into liking it will change your mind. in other words, he fucks you.

prompts: college (uni), porn without plot (?), small town.

warnings: fluff? + smut 18+ minors dni!! extended warnings below the cut.

notes: this ticks my boxes for the prompts on @rosyparkers’s fic bingo! also, no hate towards anyone studying history (i love it) just !! got stumped a bit with the plot but you'll see ;)

word count: 3.2k+ | masterlist

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ex. warnings: mentions of alcohol, dom!tom, bratty behaviour, a bit of ice play, fingering, slight degradation, dirty talk, kitchen (unprotected) sex (be safe!), one orgasm denial, pussy slapping, creampie.

❀───❀───❀

"fucking finally."

tom groans, tossing his backpack to the side after greeting you in the kitchen. settling back into the sofa, he exhales loudly; 'mentally drained' would be putting it lightly and the only reason to explain his pain is because university is stabbing him in the gut lately. however, it's fortunate that it was his last day of term; almost a month of no classes to deal with. and the smell of food wafting in the air is enough for him to forget his worries for a while.

luckily, you took your time walking back from the same uni an hour or two ago, having finished class earlier. tom was at a trip at the time you told him, the slightest bit of upset now that you couldn't get ice-cream on the way back home; only a little custom you both arrange at the last day, and to start the break on a high note.

with a text saying he was almost home, you prepared him some tea─just the way he fancies it. he'd be lying if he said he didn't notice the littlest things, one of them right now being the frequent clink of your ring when you pick your cup of tea. being married and in a six-year long relationship does that. and it subtly makes him smile at the thought of how far you've come. together.

after placing the mug in front of him, you see tom extending an arm around your midriff and before you know it, you're on his lap, his mouth brushing your hairline. then, your lips─meeting them in a sweet kiss. his grip on your bare leg tightens only focussing on how soft he feels against your mouth, how addictively you invade all his senses. like every other time, that same carefree warmth permeates his senses as you're within his hold.

once you hear the timer go off, you pull away, pecking him on the nose. tom releases you, nose ticklish and feeling almost intoxicated after such a short kiss.

"did you have wine?" tom asks you, tongue swiping his lip, savouring the flavour, "can taste it."

you wink in response. "m' mate gave it. left some for you if you want." at that, you head into the kitchen.

"what you making?"

"you know that extra pizza you made a few days ago?" he inclines his head in understanding at your reply as he gets up. "got it out the freezer and popped it in the oven. and can i just tell ya, smells fucking amazing."

he chuckles. the cooking class as an extra-curricular activity works then.

tom tags along behind you, shrugging his blazer off on the way there and hooking it on the coat hanger. he rolls up his polo shirt too and disregards it, the material making him feel stuffy. he feels under-dressed anyway, with you in just a silk robe and no bra─which is normal.

switching the oven off, you spin to see tom only in his slacks and black vest─a perfect fit, for sure. though you don't see a difference if he went shirtless; it's been a while where all of his tank tops, shirts included, have just been showing every crevice and defined structure of his abs and chest.

every time he comes in the room shirtless─now because of weeks of training with his mate, harrison─you've been left in somewhat of a dizzy state. he looks far more than sexy when he arrives home from the gym, in a way you can't particularly describe. you haven't mentioned it in fear of slacking due to the exams you had these past two weeks, knowing full well what would happen if you did. though, you admit it would've helped if you pointed it out, instead of him coming in front of you every now and again like... this. it's like he just wants you to say it.

as if his ego isn't inflated enough.

you roll your eyes at the thought. unbeknownst to you, he catches it, smirking.

it's working, he thinks.

but immediately the buzz of his phone effaces the thought of prompting you further. he'd have to leave flexing his biceps later in the evening.

tom gets distracted by the photos he's taken earlier on in the day, rather than harrison's text. you're taking the pizza out of the oven when tom asks you, making you whip your head around, "wanna see where i went to today?"

tom raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for an answer.

you hum, knowing briefly what he's talking about. he had mentioned it a week ago saying he was to go to a place nearby─somewhere in cirencester─as a treat from the history department and studying your market town.

"c'mere, look," his eyes light up, phone in front of your face as he explains, "this building, right, is the 'cirencester lock-up' where the criminals were kept back in the day."

you sit atop the table as he moves to come stand in front of you, examining the pictures-- for almost a minute. then, compelled to do anything but frown, with both your hands, you tilt his head with your forefinger so he could look at you. mindful of his love for the subject, you question him, "this... is the place you went to on your trip, is it?"

"yeah," his ruffled eyebrow furrows, "why? is it not what you expected?"

"well... thought it would be more... grand is all. looks a bit, dunno... shabby─"

you hear him gasp before you have the chance to continue. "─this is history!" he exclaims, before shaking his head at you; he couldn't believe his ears. "big or small... it means so much to this area. sure, it looks old, but they're literal gems of time's past."

the distress on his face is evident - that you can see. it's beyond him why you feel like this. but then again─the drama gcse he took in secondary school offered him the ability to stress a light situation far too much. up till the point, it looks a bit silly when he's being dramatic. to you, this was one of those times.

meanwhile, when you stare tom down, eyebrow raised, the brief aspect swims in the forefront of his mind─that being, you have a tendency to become a puddle whenever he hopes to cajole you into anything, regardless of what he wants. right now, either due to his boredom or you underrating history, it doesn't matter. tonight he decides that it's just going to be about you and him. with a little fun twist.

"i'll just pretend you didn't say anything for my sanity..." he trails off, a slight teasing tone present in his voice, "for now."

"thank god," you mutter. the light of the sun outside reflects on tom's rolex, the same one you gifted him on your anniversary, almost blinding you as its redirecting near your eyes; it's dusk, and the blinds aren't closed yet─also revealing a really beautiful sunset outside which you haven't had time to admire yet because of him. "can you also not blind me? much appreciated."

advancing towards you, he laughs dryly, head coming in level with your own. his happy demeanour from the moment he came home has changed: he's biting his lip, gaze boring into your own with his jaw tight shut.

but then, what really gets to you, the most poignant sound that makes your heart drop is that... he tuts.

you swallow; knowing tom, you feel like it's not really the end. with that in mind, you're not prepared for what's to come. yet immediately, your thighs squeeze together because of the electrical-like current that passes through your body─all the way to where you want him.

in short, you know you're his. heart, pussy and soul - his. and he certainly acknowledges that. your legs slightly go apart at the thought, ready to give any indication for him to bury his head where it rightfully belongs. it's hard not to - especially with the warmth that's radiating from him, his breath hot as he's a few centimetres away, as if luring you already.

the sudden change in atmosphere brings a chill to your spine. the control within his hands is powerful. and you're his victim.

tom gets the message. yet, he doesn't give in all at once. he wants to enjoy you, savour you, adore you. to simply rush would ruin doing all of those things.

"let's focus on how good you've been for me these past few weeks, yeah?" he starts, retreating back to the freezer. he dives in and then, shuts it, an ice cube at hand.

the confusion on your face doesn't go unnoticed; firstly, only one? second, he doesn't use ice except with gin. and there's none of that in the house. unless...

placing the ice cube on the table next to you to stop it from melting, he continues, "maybe after, i can fuck that attitude out of you."

it takes seconds for you to remark, "just because of history? seriously?" you resist the urge to roll your eyes, turning your head to the side, "for the love of fuck."

he shrugs his shoulders, "yep, that's me. i love to fuck," his arms come on either side of you, "any excuse to fuck you."

"so you're basically admitting that you're being a dramatic bi-"

at once, your bottom lip is captured with tom's, swallowing your words altogether when you deepen the kiss yourself. pulling away a little, his voice is raspy when he speaks, "my girl is always so ready for anything."

he knows you're wet, you suppose. it only burns the fire within you moreso at your implication. just as the belt of your robe is untied, your breasts are being caressed by tom's large and callous hands.

tom moves to kiss the underside of your neck, "my woman," a nip at your sweet spot, "my wife," another kiss at your clavicle, "my everything." the primal desire in his kisses grows with each kiss and the affection in his words is sufficient for you to bring him closer, crying out to him for more.

you plead, "tommy-"

"always ready for my cock," he starts again, making your breath hitch in an instant. you bite back a moan at his brazen choice of wording.

"what was that?" he presses, "you can't take it can you? my pretty girl can't take it."

"'course i fuckin' can't."

tom brings the ice cube from earlier over your clothed pussy, grateful for the cold weather. the extreme difference in temperature makes you hiss in delight, body quivering. already, water drips from tom's hands, and it's hard to tell whether it's your arousal or the melting ice.

after moving your navy blue panties to the side, he swirls it around your bundle of nerves again, hips jerking upwards. not only do you notice the cheeky glint in your husband's eyes, but the absence of the ice cube too as his own thumb replaces it.

"already melted?" tom chuckles, "this─" his middle and forefinger slaps your clit with a slight force that makes you yelp, "─warm for me, yeah?"

he doesn't give you a chance to respond, a finger entering your wetness in a heartbeat. whilst his thumb circles your clit, he adds another digit, starting to move in and out in a slow manner─watching you unravel before him.

"you feel so good for me, princess," he coos, leaving a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

darkness soon prevails the room, though not fully, as the street lamp outside only grants tom the pleasant view of your yearning state. a few minutes go by with your chest heaving─letting out aching breaths of air that sears the walls of your lungs. the only thing that treat tom's ears is the squelching sound your cunt produces. his cock twitches at the noise, feeling it pulsing the more the seconds tick by. he feels restrained in his boxers; it's a shame you're not witnessing how hard he is as your eyes are shut tight.

but it's not too long when he feels you convulse around him, because he starts going on a pace that would be considered merciless at this point. whines turn into loud moans, the pressure building up.

owing to this, your legs are shaking, unable to lay off the climax that's approaching. instantly, when at the same moment you become so close, the coil inside you on the borderline of snapping, your attention is averted towards tom's ridiculous belief. again.

"history is what makes us today, don't you believe that?" he pants.

you knit your eyebrows together, trying to focus on cumming first. yet, you snap your eyes open, to see him licking his lips, "t-tom, please─" you falter, chest heaving.

"no," tom responds bluntly, ceasing his movements then and there. his fingers─wedged deep inside your pussy─tense as you somehow suck them in further at his disapproval. you were so near to what you wanted. he goes on, "say it─"

"─gosh, you're insufferable, tom."

he responds by pressing his thumb harshly on your throbbing clit, making you whimper.

"i said say it," tom repeats, "say it right so you get what you think you deserve."

"say what, tom, huh?" you snap through gritted teeth, "history is great?"

"yes, for crying out loud."

"do i get bonus points if i act like i care?" you prompt, seeking to provoke him further; if irritating him will get him to fuck you, then so be it.

he flares his nose, reluctantly pulling his fingers out your dripping cunt. you gulp as you see him remove his trousers as well as his boxers, his cock springing out bold and unbound. you're enticed at his length, no matter how many times you've seen it─stiff and thick and his tip leaking pre-cum. tom catches you licking your lips and you're now more aware than ever of the hunger that lingers in his gaze.

as he strokes his cock, tom's eyes darken as he scans your figure. your body yearns for more, and it shows; the way your body arches up, the way your hands clutch the edge of the counter so tightly─you look so beautiful under his torture.

"just have to prove it to me, darling," he draws closer, "scream my name," he growls, his tip prodding your entrance to which you shakily gasp at the familiar sensation, "when i stretch your walls, i fucking want people to know that i make you feel good,"

"you gonna do that for me, princess?"

his free hand grips your hip, sliding behind to your ass to bring you closer towards the edge of the surface. after squeezing your bum, he slaps it─evoking a sharp jolt of your hips to move forward. the abrupt action causes the aching tip of his cock to slip inside your warm hole whereupon you both groan at the contact.

"reckon i could make you cum in five minutes?"

you shake your head, smirking, "two."

he grins, shutting his eyes and sinking in ever so slowly. he breathes out, "fuckin' ell."

your head falls back, moaning in agreement. fucking hell, indeed; he feels so snug, your pussy accustomed to his size easily as he reaches further. like it was made for him.

whilst your fingers claw into his shoulders, tom moves down to kiss you, mouth hot and wet as it explores every inch of your own and tongues moulding each other repeatedly. you take the chance to clamp around his hips, placing your foot below his ass─allowing him to drive into you deeper.

tom recedes, grunting, "oh."

forget seeing stars─you feel like you can picture planets as he rocks into you. it goes to show how long you've gone without fucking. long enough for your orgasm to be building so soon. two minutes it is. or maybe tom understands your body too well, bottoming out as soon as he sees your jaw going slack. the angle that he's pounding in at is beyond perfect.

soon enough, the shockwaves that edges nearer in your stomach compels you to shove your hips, meeting his strong thrusts without thought. tom's name rolls off your tongue over and over again, the volume of your voice amplifying the more he hits that spot deep inside you─up till the point you're screaming. just like he asked you to before. and there you are, cumming, clenching around his dick as you fail to remember your surroundings. and unfortunately, your neighbours, too.

it's rather quick when you hear tom crying out your name into your neck after you. his thrusts become sloppy, given that he's draining as much of his cum inside you─spending of what he has in him. eventually, he comes to a stop, as well as the harsh bite of his teeth below your jaw. you feel turned on again but not adequate enough for your body to want to come again; you're absolutely spent.

"were you teasing me the whole time?" he mumbles into your chest a minute or two later, still inside you, creating circles with the pads of his fingers on your waist.

the answer you give him lies in the glimmer of your eyes when he looks up at you. "of course i love history, babe," you tease, "glad i pissed you off, though."

"this is why we can't have nice things," he whines, "you're always fucking my feelings over."

"awh no," you murmur, "you know i love you and your inner-nerd of history."

a blush appears on his cheeks. "forget it, now the pizza's cold," he pouts, head resting onto your shoulder.

"your fucking fault, babe," you remark, palms smoothing over the sides of his head, "now eat it."

he has different plans. "wouldn't mind eating you out actually. much better," he murmurs, hands coming to sit on the inside of your thighs. he stretches them again, cock slipping out of your cunt. the whimper you let out is because you feel empty.

you crave to feel stuffed again.

"you really know how to change the mood very quickly. innit, tom?" you ask.

he ignores you; once he's in line with your core, his eyes lock with yours, your breath hitching at the prospect of him giving you head. even after fucking you senseless, you feel like you won't be able to take it.

tom's tongue is already prepared to dive into your hole─some of his cum he's dumped inside moments before decorates your thighs and dribbles onto the floor, though more of his seed seems to still be confined inside you.

it looks heavenly. all his.

"may i?"

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#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader smut #smut #tom holland preference #tom holland one shot #rosyficbingo #lmk what u think btw !!!!

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styleswithaseaview · 3 years

Text

ottery st. catchpole

ok so new fic ;)))) (This is based of forest gump so basically forest and Jenny’s relationship but at hogwarts ykykykykykky) y/n had a reall Ruff childhood and she lived in St. Otterpole with Ced and they grew up together and she would always sneak in to his house so she wouldn’t be alone in the night But once they have been at Hogwarts a couple years Ced realised his feelings for y/n and is like “ what happened to the original plot of the movie?” Sjdjdjdkskkskskskd… One night, our girl is having a nightmare about sm sm u can decide and ceds like hell nah not my girl and takes her up to his dorm and they sleep and cuddle like they used to do at his house when they are younger :) Then she wakes up and is like “oh shiii i fell in love with Diggory” That’s all I have for the plot rn but lemme know if you need anything else :))) - @feliciamint (thank you for the lovely idea babie!)

warnings : food mention, slightly vague family issues, nightmares, tooth-rotting fluff, swearing

a/n : this is kind of different to my usual, and it’s kind of terrible, but ah well! thank you for the help and the lovely request, lu!

taglist: @cedricsbrowncurls @hoe4cedricdiggory @feliciamint @sugarywinterroses @faeinorbit @truly-insatiable @dianadiggory @animalcrackersinchurch @ceofcedric @annasdani @punkrific @anchoeritic @dogsandrocketsocks @blacksbooksx @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @inks-and-jinx @tomriddleswifey @kmcedric11 @orifortheweeknd

—

You were in love with Cedric Diggory, that you knew for certain. Now, how did you come to this conclusion? Simply because every moment leading up to this day was like a time bomb, fuse burning oh-so-slowly until it exploded in a flurry of light.

Ottery St. Catchpole, early childhood; a chilly December night.

You flicked on your light tentatively, searching the window opposite you for a sign that the boy you desperately needed at the moment was still awake.

Alas, his light switched on, as well, and you practically squealed in joy. You saw his face appear in the window, childish grin spreading across his features, and he nodded to you.

Taking his signal, you quickly grabbed your coat from where it hung above your bed - in your small cupboard off the kitchen that you resided in - and made your way silently to the door.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to be quiet, as precisely no one but yourself - a ten year old - occupied the house at the moment. But you were, simply by instinct, and it proved helpful at times other than this; your parents, the ones who were currently out Merlin knows where, often reinforced that you make not a peep when the rare occasion that they were home came up.

And so you hurried out the door and around the back, not stopping until you saw the faint yellow light emanating from the small window on the Diggory’s kitchen door.

The door opened precisely at the moment you arrived at it, revealing a smiling Cedric who pulled the door open for you, allowing you to step into the warmth of the Diggory household.

“Ced? Is-” Amos Diggory started, walking down the stairs, stopping when he saw you. “Ah, hello, Y/N. Staying the night? Have you had dinner yet? There’s food in the cupboard, we just-”

“Thank you, Mr. Diggory, s’very kind,” you said warmly, smiling at the man, who simply shook his head with a chuckle.

“What have I said about my name? Please call me Amos, s’only right with the amount of time you spend over here,” he said, and Cedric shot him a glare.

“Dad.” he warned, grey eyes flaring, and the man just smiled.

“I do mean it in a good way, Ced, you know I love dear Y/N as much as you do.” Amos nodded, exiting the room and up the stairs.

“Have y’eaten?” Cedric asked when his father left, gesturing for you to sit down on one of the stools near the counter. You shook your head with pursed lips, trying to quell the hunger that rumbled in your stomach. “Have some, please,” he implored, taking a bowl of pasta out and a plate for you. You opened your mouth to decline, but the emptiness that growled in your stomach was evident, so you merely nodded, taking the fork from him.

“Thank you, Ced. Y’really don’t have to do this,” you said in between bites of food, and he shook his head.

“It’s the least I can do. Y’want a cuppa?” You nodded in response, and he started the kettle with a wave of his hand. Although you weren’t in Hogwarts yet, and a normal ten-year-old wizard wouldn’t know wandless magic, Cedric and yourself had learned some when he’d realized that he was a disaster in a magic-less kitchen, and with the amount of times a night such as this had occurred, magic was needed in some form or another.

After you’d finished eating and sipped the warm tea he’d provided, the two of you quietly went up to his bedroom, which frankly felt more like home than your own cramped cupboard.

“C’mon, don’t just stand there,” Cedric said with a laugh, opening his own sheets for you to climb into, which you did more than willingly with a giggle. You fell asleep that night in his arms, not a thought in your mind about the troubles that riddled your ten-year-old-self.

—

You were attempting to fall asleep, which proved to be an extremely difficult task with the thoughts that swirled around in your brain, providing you no respite.

When you finally did so, you found that the respite you desired still did not come.

You were flailing in open water, which you saw that stretched miles around you, and the desperate kicks of your limbs did no good to the way you were positively drowning, face barely above the surface as salty water filled your lungs. Upon looking up, you were met with your parents, who were in a boat - a relatively nice one, too - lounging about with cocktail in hand. They spotted your screaming figure and payed no mind, steering their boat the other way as you succumbed to the ocean that pulled you below.

You woke up with a sharp intake of breath, filling your aching lungs, and you found that your throat was sore. From what, you didn’t know - your only concern was the state you were in. Your palms were clammy and you couldn’t stop trembling; it felt like there was water around you, drowning you, when you were merely in your dorm.

You looked up through waterlogged lashes, you assumed from your own tears, to see two people standing in the doorway. One, your roommate. Two, Cedric. You practically sobbed in relief, and the boy rushed to your side, falling to his knees to meet your eye level.

“What happened to her?” Cedric asked worriedly, turning to your roommate.

“I dunno, she was screaming and crying and kicking like mad, and then I came and got you.” the girl said, grimacing. Evidently, she hadn’t gotten much sleep, either.

“Fuck,” he muttered, brushing a sweaty piece of hair from your face. “Y/N, can y’hear me? Wanna go to my dorm, you can get some sleep, alright?” He asked softly, and you nodded, still incredibly shaken but conscious enough to register his inquiry. He picked you up off your bed, bridal style with one arm wrapped under the bend of your knees and the other around the curvature of your spine, and excited the room with a quick ‘thank you’ to your roommate.

He walked you all the way to his dorm, which he was alone in thanks to Head Boy privileges, and set you in his bed, leaving you there for but a moment to fetch a washcloth and some water. He returned, turning you over to softly brush the washcloth over your perspiring face, cleaning you up from the sweat that your nightmares had caused.

“Can y’drink some water f’me?” he asked softly, holding up the water bottle he’d grabbed, and you parted your lips in response, allowing him to nurse the water to your mouth, which you gulped gratefully, thankful for the soothing sensation that the liquid provided you with.

After a minute, you were returned to a relatively normal state, but were still incredibly tired. Cedric gently got into bed beside you, careful not to touch you as to not disturb you, to which you frowned.

“What are y’doin’?”

“I’m-”

“We’re not strangers, get over here, please.” you said simply, pulling the boy so that his arms were around your waist and your head in his chest, inhaling his scent. You were finally able to sleep with the warmth of him around you, and a dreamless sleep, at that.

When you woke up the next morning, the bomb had gone off in your heart, and it was simple for anyone to see. You were in love with Cedric Diggory.

#cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory #cedric diggory fic #cedric diggory imagines #submission

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Two Sides of a War

Peter Parker x reader

warnings: a fight scene that makes no fucking sense bdhshagag, bad writing in general

a/n: thank you !

prompt: anonymous: “okay so dating peter parker and then fighting him during civil war cause the reader is on team cap?? thank much love you and your writing”

You and Peter were just two wannabe up-and-coming vigilantes heroes based in New York. You barely had a name for yourself, just some YouTube videos with some...interesting comments. Why are people so attracted to masks?

Peter and you crossed paths as Spider-Man and y/h/n a couple dozen times while watching over the streets of New York, after a while, you guys became good friends and revealed your identities to each other. It wasn’t long before the two of you fell for each other.

Now you were being approached by the famous Wanda Maximoff and Clint Barton, two Avengers who needed your help. You couldn’t just say no! This was the opportunity of a lifetime.

“Where are we going?” You asked as you packed up your suit.

“Germany.” Hawkeye replied while you slung your backpack over your shoulder.

“I’m good to go.”

Along the way, you picked up another masked individual, Scott. He sure talked a lot, he talked until he passed out. Once it was quiet, you realized something. You hadn’t told Peter where you were. This was the coolest opportunity you’d ever received and you had yet to share it with him. You stared at your lockscreen, the picture of the two of you sitting on a rooftop eating cardboard-tasting pizza. Never again would you order from there.

You typed out your message, reading it over and over again.

Pete, you’ll never guess where I am right now. I’m in Germany, dude!! Apparently the Avengers aren’t doing to well, so they called me in. They told me I’d be home for dinner though, I don’t know if they meant dinner in NY or dinner here, either way, it’s gonna be awesome! Wish me luck, love you!!! 💙❤️💙❤️

You selected the entire message and deleted it, casting your phone aside on the seat of the van. Honestly, that text might worry him more than anything. Suddenly you just run off to another country with some rogue Avengers? Sounds a bit sketchy. Your stomach didn’t feel too good now, what if you made a mistake coming here? No way, this is your chance to do the right thing. The Accords they told you about were ridiculous, they shouldn’t have to wait for a vote on where to help. They should just be able to help.

The van came to a halt and the engine switched off.

“Ready to meet the Captain, y/n?” Clint asked you as you gathered your things.

“Definitely.” He stepped out of the van and opened the door for you, you stepped over Scott and hopped out, dropping your bag on the pavement. “Hi, I’m y/n, y/h/n. Here to help.” You waved at the three men in front of you with an awkward smile to go along with it. You were so caught up in the thought of fighting alongside these big names that you forgot that you were probably going to be extremely intimidated.

“It’s good to have you, y/n. Thanks for coming here on such short notice.” Captain America himself reached out his hand and you nearly forgot how to shake somebody’s hand. “Are we all ready to go?”

—————

You marched through the lot of the airport beside your new teammates, heart racing with anticipation, you should be a bit scared, but this was the coolest thing you’ve ever had the chance to do! After some bickering between the Tony Stark and the Captain America, Tony called out some random word.

“Underoos!” Iron Man yelled and a red figure flew onto the scene.

“That can’t be..?” You muttered loud enough for Cap to hear and he looked over to see your puzzled face. It was. “What the hell?” You said loud enough for everyone to hear, now all eyes were on you.

“Oh, shit.” Peter put his hand to his forehead, this could not be happening right now.

“Wait, kid, you know them?” Tony asked his newest recruit, who’s white eyes grew larger as he stared at you in shock.

“That’s...heh, funny story, Mr. Stark.” Peter stood up with Cap’s shield on his arm.

“I’m his partner, his s/o. You got him a new suit?” You cut in and Tony gave you a dirty look.

“I wasn’t asking you, pipsqueak.” He snapped back at you. “Of course I got him a new suit, he was wearing rags. You could use an upgrade, too.”

“This is awkward.” Peter piped in before getting punched in the face by Ant-Man. And just like that, you all scrambled to take each other down, you were determined to make it over to Peter, hiding behind a gasoline truck to talk.

“Peter, why didn’t you tell me that Tony Stark picked you up?” You and him yanked your masks off and your boyfriend engulfed you into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark told me to keep it quiet! I honestly don’t want to fight you, this could get bad.” Peter held your cheeks in his hands and brushed his thumb on your face. “Please don’t punch me that hard.”

“I dunno, Pete, I can’t make any promises.” You joked and kissed his palm. “Kidding, be careful out there. There are some heavy hitters.” You put his mask back on and adjusted your own before running back to the fight, Peter swinging above you. The fight couldn’t have been more tense, all these friends were suddenly turned against each other and somehow you and Peter fell into the middle of it.

“Hey, Spider-Boy!” Tony called to your boyfriend. “Why don’t you take care of your little lover?” He suggested, making Peter very uncomfortable for many different reasons.

“It’s ‘Spider-Man,’” he whined and reluctantly swung back over to you, making you lose your balance and tumble backwards, “hey, me again!”

“They want you to take care of me, huh?” You crossed your arms and cocked an eyebrow, the ultimate look of disapproval. Peter lifted the bottom half of his mask for you to see his lips move.

“I think you may be on the wrong side of this one, y/n. I mean, these guys are doing something illegal.” Peter grabbed you by your upper arms and pulled you to safety, there was debris flying every which way.

“Did Tony tell you what it was?” You turned you head and gave him a know-it-all smile, Peter sucked his tongue and did you one better, an awkward smile.

“Well, no...” He rubbed the back of his neck and you nodded along.

“That’s what I thought.” You reached your arms out to him, which was deceiving since your next move was a front-flip over his shoulders, pressing the button to his web shooters and wrapping the webs around his wrists. Peter barely reacted because, well, he didn’t think his own s/o would disarm him like that. “You should sit this one out, babe. You’re doing more harm than good.” You folded his mask back down and patted his head, strutting away to help your team again.

“Y/N?! Are you serious?!” He squirmed around trying to break loose from the binds of his own weapon. “Mr. Stark? I could use a little help here!” Peter cried out while shimmying against a piece of metal to free himself. “These things are so strong! I can’t tell if I should be happy or mad at my work!”

“What’s going on, kid?” Tony flew to Peter and witnessed his struggles.

“I’m a little stuck.”

—————

The fight came to rough close for your team as everyone went down one by one.

“What’s gonna happen to them, Mr. Stark?” The freed Spider-Man asked his boss.

“Well, my young padawan, the proper authorities get to deal with them!” Tony told the Spider-Man and realized what this would mean. With a reluctant groan he looked around the airport for you. “Alright, kid, your little friend is laying on the ground near that plane wing. Go get them, I’ll cover for ‘em.”

“Thank you, sir!” Peter rushed to go and get you, worried by the fact that you were just laying there. “Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?” Peter fell to his knees and shook you by the shoulders.

“Yep! I’m good.” You answered without opening your eyes. “Can we go home? Please?” You begged him, reaching out and accidentally hitting his face.

“Yeah, let’s go.” He laced his arms under your knees and back, when you were moved you moaned in pain. “You’re gonna be okay.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlisbeth // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @allthecreativeonesaretaken // @frostedgiant // @praellee //

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #tony stark #iron man

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things-can-be-seen-here · 4 years

Note

Oh! That uh. Headcanon thing??? Is that ok? If it was the Germany Bros and Denmark with zzz, pda, and built?? I dunno if your still doing this or not. But thank you anyways!! You're writing is good!!! And remember to take care of yourself.

I didn’t know if you wanted Germany Bros as a ship or as separated characters so I did them separately, but I think you’ll have the image to how it would look like in their relationship :D I hope you’ll like it! Im very glad that you like my writing!

Enjoy!!

Affection = How affectionate are they? How do they show it?

Germany - He tries his best to show affection in any possible way. He just has no idea how to do it and that makes him a bit unsure of himself. He uses gifts and dates as a form of showing affection, he even writes love letters. But he is always unsure about whether it’s good enough or not.

Prussia - Not very affectionate. Gilbert likes to assure and be assured of their love by words, not actions. He knows it might seem stupid, but he can read honesty in the other’s voice, so he knows if they mean it or if there’s something wrong.

Built = How did their relationship begin? Who took the first step?

Germany - Ludwig had never started a relationship before. He tries to show his love and he tries to read the other person, to see if he is not getting mixed signals or something like that.

Prussia - Prussia is being all touchy and laughy with the other, bumping into them playfully and asking them out for ice cream, coffee, to see a movie and so on. It comes to the point when he assumes the other loves him too, even to the point when he assumes that they are dating. Just when he leans for a kiss, he realizes that “No, I should have say something” and his s/o thinks “Oh, I should have known!”. It usually ends up in a relationship, so he doesn’t mind the awkward minute between them when they pull away after the kiss.

Denmark - No Matter how old Matthias is, or how many relationships he had, he is always very ashamed when asking somebody out. He is blushing, stuttering, he is fidgeting his fingers and he always, always end up asking “So... Can I kiss you?” and then “And... Could I kiss you again?”. His partner finds that funny, Matthias not so much.

Care = Do they take care of each other - mentally and physically? Are they usually interested in how the other’s day was?

Germany - He does not want to talk about his day. It gets tiring doing it for the first half of a day, he does not want to talk about it for the rest of it. But he is interested in how the other’s day was or how the project ended or if they felt happy... As for physical care, Ludwig likes to give massages. With fancy oils and candles. He thinks it’s a nice way to relax after a long day.

Prussia - he doesn’t like talking. He keeps his problems for himself and he assumes people want to do the same. So if his partner wants to talk about their day, they are welcome. But he won’t share how his day went. He prefers watching a movie and relaxing while cuddling, or just napping together. He feels much better after that. He believes that thing helps his partner as well.

Dates = How often do they go on dates? How do they look?

Germany - For important dates, Ludwig likes to go on fancy lunches and dinners. He likes long walks and alcohol tasting. If it’s just spending free time together, he likes to go hiking, he likes to visit museums and generally just travel to see new things.

Prussia - Is more of a lazy dater. He prefers staying home or somewhere close, like on a nearest beach or in nearest bar. Gilbert isn’t fan of fancy places if he doesn’t have the reason for it. But once there is a special occasion or his partner and him get to be together after a long time, he’s the one to chose a theater play or a restaurant.

Exceptions = What do they do, to make their partner happy (even if they don't enjoy it?)

Germany - Sings or reads to his partner in the bed. He really prefers not to do so, but once his partner asks him to, he can’t say no.

Prussia - Cleaning. If he’s partner is away, he takes care of the house, of the backyard, he goes shopping, does laundry, he will change sheets and clean the windows. He hates it, it takes whole day (maybe two) but the look on his s/o’s face is always worth it.

Future = Do they think about it? How does it look?

Germany - He’s a week in a relationship but he already knows how their wedding will look like and what will they kid name’s be. He knows it’s ridiculous, but he always feels like his partner is the one for him.

Prussia - Gilbert knows better than to give himself a hope of any kind. He is open to talks about future and he takes them seriously, but he doesn’t think of it much. He would be happy to make his dream future come true one day... Lots of kids and animals in big house - that’s what he wants the most.

Gifts = How often do they give the other gifts? What are the gifts?

Germany - Every anniversary, anytime they see each other after a long time, every birthday, Christmas, Easter... He uses every special occasion just to show that he loves the other person. Why? Because he can’t use his words properly. It’s always something practical and rarely it’s clothes or accessory.

Prussia - Is terrible with gifts. He is trying, he’s trying his best! But he can’t do it and he needs helps. He often asks somebody to help him and he is listening to his partner so he at least tries to buy the thing they seem to want the most.

Hiatus = Did they ever had to take a break from each other? Or is their relationship smooth?

Neither of them is fan of breaks. Whilst Ludwig believes everything can be settled after a long discussion, Gilbert knows that a break equals a break up.

Item = What belongs to the other, but they always use it?

Germany - He is usually bigger, so he can’t keep any clothes and wear them. But he really likes to borrow watch or glasses. It’s subtle, it’s elegant and no one knows.

Prussia - He goes with the saying “What is mine is yours and what is yours is mine”. (He borrows shoes a lot.)

Jealousy = Are they jealous? Does it show?

Germany - Not without a proper reason. He is trying to let everything slide and make himself believe, that there is no reason he should be jealous. So he does not show it either.

Prussia - He hates being jealous, but he is afraid that somebody might be better. He thinks he is good enough, but there is always someone who can be a better match for his partner. He does show it in a strange way - he si trying to please his partner and make himself look better, just to show his partner how good their relationship is and why they should stay together.

Kitchen = Who owns it?

As for Germany and Prussia, they both have their way around the kitchen. But the can’t work together, they are very different types of cooks, so the switch. (Ludwig end up cleaning after Gilbert most of the time.)

Likes and dislikes = What is the best and the worst thing about their partner?

Germany - Ludwig really likes when his partner is honest. At any cost. On the other hand, being lazy is a big no-no in a relationship.

Prussia - Gilbert appreciates if his partner is laughing at his jokes. However terrible they are, he just wants to make his partner smile. What he doesn’t like is being lectured by the other. He can stand it in private, but once it happens on a public place, that’s it for him. Gilbert knows he has many flaws, but he knows his worth and he won’t let anyone scold him in front of other people.

Mistake = What did they do and how did the situation ended?

Germany - Time is always a problem. He hates to admit it, but he could give his partner more attention and spend more time with him. As an apology, he buys something that his s/o wanted for a longer time and leaves his phone at home, spending as much time with his partner as possible.

Prussia - He does a lot of mistakes, but he never admits it to himself. So he is ignoring it, hoping his partner isn’t hurt in any way. They both end up forgetting about it in few days.

Nicknames = How do they call each other?

Germany - He doesn’t like nicknames, he never uses them. It feels weird for some reason. But when he uses any other name than his partner’s given name, he says it with the softest tone possible.

Prussia - Gilbert is playing with names. And he uses them all at the same time. (And he makes up nicknames for himself.)

Out of character = What is something nobody would believe they do in a relationship?

Germany - He is very needy cuddler. Once his job is done and he can finally rest, he prefers to have his partner near him. They don’t have to talk or kiss or anything, he just wants to be close to them and hug on the couch.

Prussia - Gilbert loves big cheesy romantic gestures. Every other anniversary he borrows a microphone and speaker and he stands under his partner’s window, singing ABBA and Bruno Mars’ old songs.

PDA = Their opinion on PDA? How does it look?

Germany - No. He knows that people don’t like seeing it and then it’s a private thing. So why would he want to show the others how much he is in love when his partner is the only one who has to know? Even when they see each other after a long time, he just hugs his partner and kisses them on both cheeks.

Prussia - It’s not like he doesn’t like PDA, he just isn’t that big of a affection-showing partner. He doesn’t need to hold the other’s hand or brush their shoulders together. He doesn’t really miss kissing anyone, he doesn’t need to be touched or touch. As long as he is sure that his love is being returned, he’s more than happy.

Denmark - Matthias is a very touchy person. He likes to hold his partner hand, he likes to hug them a lot... He enjoys those things. But he wouldn’t like them to be screaming at other people, so he is very subtle with them. There is the thing though - he can’t keep his lips away. Whether it’s pecks or just whispering, he keeps his lips close to his s/o’s body.

Quirk = What is a silly activity they really enjoy?

Germany - He loves shopping - in pet stores. He spends way too much there every now and then. But he never keeps those things (not until he goes there on purpose, for his own dogs). He is giving them to animal shelters, helping them as much as he can.

Prussia - Singing naked around the house. It starts in the shower, but it continues until he’s completely dry (without using a towel). He doesn’t need a microphone, he is just loud and he dances with his eyes closed. (Oh yes. It got awkward few times.)

Rough times = Do they argue? How often?

Germany - He can get loud if there is a problem that is ignored by his partner, but once the “debate” starts accelerating and it becomes an argument, he backs off and uses more calm, soft voice. He’s a patient man, so if he starts an argument, it’s not more often than once a month.

Prussia - He’s blunt and oblivious and even though it’s not much of a arguing problem, he often says things differently that he should and explains things to himself the wrong way. That leads to hard and dangerous conversations few times a week.

Sex = nothing too explicit, just a random headcanon

Germany - He’s very shamed of it, but when he’s the big spoon in bed, he gets a boner too often. It never happens to him, even if his partner is teasing him any other time of a day or place, he has his buddy under control. But once he is in bed, oh boy. It just keeps happening.

Prussia - He loves morning sex. Slow, relaxes, caring morning love making is the best kind of all.

Together time = How often does that happen? How are they usually spending it?

Germany - He loves his job. He knows it's bad, it's actually the worst, but his job is very important. But when Friday comes, he spends whole night planning their weekend together, making sure both of them will have something fun to do. (Unfortunately he never turns his phone off and chose his job over his partner.)

Prussia - He’s always putting work on the second place. He doesn’t care if the documents were supposed to be finished yesterday. He’s just going on a date and nothing can stop him. Does he regret his decision? Yes and no. Yes - he hated doing his job last minute. No - the date is always worth it. He prefers movie nights, cinema dates, he can even settle for operas and musicals. Anything to spend two hours quietly admiring his s/o and then having what to talk about for the rest of the evening. (He keeps all of the tickets.)

Unacceptable = What will they NEVER do in a relationship?

Germany - However jealous he might be, he never confronts his partner. Ludwig believes that trust and honesty is the most important thing in a relationship so he thinks his s/o would come to him and tell him if something was off. He is a bit worried, sure, but he would never make a scene or corner his partner. He just waits patiently, however hard it is.

Prussia - He can't break up with his partner. He knows it's bad and that it's terrible thing but he can't make himself break someone's heart. So he is bad boyfriend, he is making scenes, he is doing that typical "What's wrong? Nothing!" thing and finds as much excuses as he can, to be away from his partner. He just doesn't want to hurt the other, he knows just as much or a pain it is.

View worth millions = What is the part of their partners body they admire the most?

Germany - For Ludwig it's definitely hands. Not nails, he doesn't care about those at all. They can be long, short, acrylic or they can have dirt behind them. Whatever. But hands, fingers, skin... He likes to touch his partners hands a lot and caress them. Hard to tell which he likes more - if small or big hands, if soft skin or hard skin of hands that worked a lot. He just adores hands and palms.

Prussia - Gilbert is a simple man. He really is. But no so simple that he would settle for round butts and big breasts (not that he doesn't like those). Or for big muscles. But he's a hair man. He likes to play with them, caress them, smell them... He even braids them, even though he is terrible at it. He's just having fun.

When separated = Are they calling each other? Missing each other much? What happens when they see each other after a loner while?

Germany - He doesn’t want to be needy or annoying, so he is never the one to call and he’s texting the other just occasionally. It’s always a short, direct text, such as “Miss you.” “Love you.” “Hope you will come back soon.” but he answers every call or text in a minute, trying to make the conversation as long as possible.

The reunion is his favourite part. He buys one flower and big chocolate box and cooks lunch. In the evening, he and his s/o go to a restaurant for a fancy dinner, which always ends up in them talking until the late night, and then going home and cuddling in the bed.

Prussia - Doesn't care if he's annoying. It's the opposite, actually. He uses "one word - one text bubble" style of texting. Not that he wants to, he just uses it as a way of reminding his s/o that he is alive and they are still dating... (And that he misses his s/on a lot). He's the king of emojis too. He uses them much more than it's necessary and he actually thinks a lot about which he will chose.

As for reunion, he's always asking one question over and over again to the point when he annoys himself. "Missed me much?". To which is s/o answers "No, not at all." just because they want to mess with him. But once they say "Yes, very much." he is the happiest man in the world, he jumps around and laughs loudly, hugging the other tightly.

Xtra = extra headcanon

Germany - Ludwig loves to play RPG games. He won’t tell anyone, he could never tell anyone. But he secretly loves them. He got so mad the other time, he scared Gilbert to death with how angry he was and how much he was cursing.

Prussia - He is watching cartoons. Not anime - cartoons. My little pony, Miss Mallard Mystery, Totally spies, Avatar, Gravity Falls, Phineas & Ferb... you name it, he knows it.

Yours only = marriage headcanon

Germany - Ludwig cried. He cried at every single wedding he had attended and he cried at his own wedding. His s/o though it was cute, but Ludwig couldn’t look into anyone’s eyes until he started drinking. It felt a bit awkward... But he couldn’t help it. His s/o was just the most beautiful person in the world and now they were only his.

Prussia - Was looking just stunning. He was nice, he was smiling, he was thanking everybody... Gilbert was a changed man on his wedding day. He was taking a lot of pictures (even though he had the best and most expensive photographers around him) and selfies. And then dancing - Gilbert had danced with everyone who was invited. Twice. He gave his soul and heart to every dance and for the first time they all had to admit that the Prussian looked hot.

Zzz = sleep headcanon

Germany - Some might think that Ludwig is a heavy sleeper. That he goes to bed and won’t wake up until the alarm goes off. The opposite is the truth - Ludwig reacts to every sound, every smell... He knows when his s/o moves. That’s actually the reason why he doesn’t need an alarm. He keeps waking up on the sound of the clock in the kitchen (which is on the other side of the house).

Prussia - Gilbert sleeps with his door open. What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. Haha, sorry... But he really does! And his windows open too. He likes night breeze. Why, you might ask, won’t he just close the door? He’s too lazy. When he goes to bed (which isn’t sooner than 2AM) he just wants to sleep. He can’t be bothered to do anything anymore.

Denmark - It doesn’t matter how long his sleep or nap is (it can be five minutes or five hours) but he always wakes up with pink cheeks. Rest of the Nordic is making fun of him, but just because they don’t want to admit that Matthias looks... kind of cute.

The thing that Denmark, Prussia and America have in common is, that they once made a pact and swore they will never ever wear pajamas again. Nightgown is cool, but they prefer to sleep in boxers or sweatpants (commando).

#hetalia #bringbackhetalia2020 #hetalia headcanons #aph germany #aph prussia #aph denmark #headcanon game #alphabet headcanon #alphabet game #ludwig beilschmidt #gilbert bielschmidt #mathias kohler

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justheretobreakthings · 4 years

Text

Kings Over Aces - Chapter 7

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Word Count: 4,445 (Total Word Count: 26,986) Read on AO3 Fancy a cup o’ joe?

Story Summary:

The Voltron Coalition has an alliance in the works with the resource-rich planet of Yuipra, and it’s the paladins’ job to keep on the king’s good side while the deal is made. That shouldn’t shouldn’t be too great a challenge; after all, they’ve courted plenty of planets before for the sake of alliances.

Unfortunately, things are made much more complicated when the king takes a special interest in Keith.

Chapter content warning for discussion of sexual assault. Fic content warning for attempted rape.

Time passed in a sludge, hiding in the silence of his bedroom and switching between sitting huddled on his bed and pacing the length of his room. He had gotten dressed in his regular day clothes right after he’d made it to his room, after triple-checking that the door was securely locked so no one could burst in on him. It felt good to have his gloves and jacket on again, and focusing on the feel of their fabric against his skin almost blocked out the lingering sensation of Olren’s fingers brushing along his torso or intertwined in Keith’s own, almost made his body feel like his own again.

Almost.

Somehow he’d managed to fall asleep at some point, despite his jacket and boots remaining on and him not daring to get under his bedcovers, and it wasn’t all that different from being awake, since the visions of his evening with Olren and where else it could have gone assaulted him relentlessly regardless of whether he was awake or sleeping. Still, it was probably a good thing that he was woken by a knock at his door.

He startled awake, fishing instinctively for his knife under the pillow before Coran’s voice joined the knocking. “Number Four? Are you all right in there?”

Keith let his grip on the knife loosen and took a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He wasn’t sure if its elevated rate was due to him being startled or left over from his dreaming. “Number Four? Keith?”

“Yeah,” Keith croaked out.

The knocking stopped. “We’ve made breakfast. Are you up for joining us? We, ah - we’ve noticed, you’ve been in there a while, without eating��”

Keith grimaced. “Um… no, thank you, Coran.”

“Right. Ah, I understand.” Coran cleared his throat. “Well, whenever you’re ready. Let us know if you need anything, anything at all, okay?”

There was silence at the door, probably Coran waiting for a response, and when he didn’t get one, he audibly sighed, and footsteps retreated down the hall as he left. Keith waited a few ticks after they were out of earshot before he got up and resumed yesterday’s pacing.

He wasn’t keeping track of the time passing, so it was hard to say how long it was before he was greeted by another knock at the door, accompanied by Hunk timidly trying to tempt him out for a snack. Again Keith declined. When Shiro came knocking later, Keith couldn’t even bring himself to reply aloud, and he waited silently on his bed until Shiro gave up and let him be.

They seemed to be taking it in turns to check in on him, and when Pidge came next, she wasn’t so easily deterred. Keith jumped at the sound of her knocks, which sounded like Pidge was throwing her entire weight into, and she half-yelled through the door. “Keith!” she said. “Keith, this isn’t healthy, okay? You have to eat, you have to - have to do something! Come on, please, we’re worried about you.”

Keith remained silent where he was, huddled on the bed, legs throbbing from all the pacing he’d done with no food to energize them.

“Keith?” Pidge called again. When Keith still didn’t reply, she let out a frustrated breath. “Keith, if you don’t respond, I’m coming in there. I have to make sure you’re okay.” True to her word, a couple of soft beeps followed, sounds that Keith recognized as coming from a comms tablet. She was probably hacking into the lock on the door. “If you’re okay and you really don’t want me coming in, say something.”

Keith opened his mouth, ready to speak up, to tell her to go away, but no sound came out. On some level, he knew that what he was doing, isolating himself in his room and not moving from his bed and wallowing in thoughts of what had happened, wasn’t good for him. And he knew that he would have to face the others eventually, to talk things out, but he didn’t know if he was ready. He didn’t know that he ever would be.

It seemed, though, that it was happening, ready or not, and he let it. He sat still as Pidge got the door unlocked and it slid open with its familiar electronic hiss, and he waited for her to make the first move. It took a moment - Pidge didn’t seem to have had much of a plan beyond getting his door open, seeing how long she spent hovering in the doorway, tablet gripped tightly in her hands and eyes darting around Keith’s room. Probably looking for some indication of what he’d been doing all this time shut in here by himself.

Eventually, she took a deep breath and asked, “Is it okay if I sit down?” She gestured toward the foot of his bed.

After a few seconds, Keith silently nodded, pulling his feet closer toward himself and wrapping his arms around his knees. The mattress sank a little as Pidge took a seat, tucking the tablet into her sweatshirt’s pocket, and Keith kept his gaze down, not wanting to meet her eyes despite her intense gaze obviously wanting him to look up.

When it became clear that he wasn’t going to, Pidge cleared her throat. “Keith, I, um - ” she said. “I wanted to, uh - to say that - well, we all want to say sorry. About what happened. What we talked you into doing. It was - it was fucked up, and it was so fucking obvious that you didn’t want to and - and - and we could’ve been looking for alliances with other planets, so that excuse, that we needed it, it - it didn’t - it didn’t justify, um… just, I can’t even begin to - ”

“Forget it,” Keith mumbled, eyes still on his knees. “It’s over. You weren’t the one pushing for it. Wasn’t your idea.” He sighed, turning his head to rest his cheek on his knee. “Wasn’t your fault.”

“Okay, fine, I didn’t force you. But I didn’t stop it either. I - I didn’t want to - I mean, like, Shiro and Allura were all for it, and I was thinking that, like, if they wanted you to do it, then I couldn’t exactly shout them down, but - but - God, Keith, that was so stupid of me. I should’ve - I should’ve - ”

Her voice broke, and the rest of the sentence was cut off by her hitched breath. Finally Keith lifted his head to look at her, and was surprised by the sight. Pidge had removed her glasses, and was scrubbing at her eyes, her cheeks and nose a bold pink.

“Pidge?” Keith said. “Are, um - are you - ?”

“Oh, God, Keith, don’t do that!” Pidge said, waving a hand at him. “Don’t be asking me if I’m okay! I’m not the one who just - who had - who went through what you did! You’re the one we’re worried about! Trust me, having to watch it was bad, yeah, but being in your shoes… I can’t even…”

She took a deep breath and lowered her head, moving her glasses down to wipe at the lenses with the hem of her shirt. “You know, back in middle school, there were some kids who were kinda - well, they were assholes. Had a habit of picking on me, and anyone else they considered ‘weird’. And they liked to dare each other to do things, you know, stupid things that they could film and thought were funny. And one time, apparently one of the guys had been dared to kiss me. They didn’t know I was aroace, heck, I didn’t know it at the time either, it wasn’t about that, it was just like, ‘haha, won’t it be so funny and embarrassing to have to kiss the freaky nerd girl, isn’t that a riot’.

“So, I’m walking in the hall during passing period, minding my own damn business, and all of a sudden I’m grabbed by the arm, and this fucker is spinning me around and plants one on me. Tongue and all. Only took a couple seconds, I was just too stunned to do anything but stand there. And when he’s done he runs off to his buddies, laughing his ass off, and I just - I didn’t even know what to do. I’m standing there shaking and confused and people are staring, and if I could go back in time and do things over, I would have chased that guy down and knocked his teeth out. But I didn’t. I was, I dunno, in a bit of a stupor, I guess. I went to the nurse and told her I felt sick, which, you know, was true. And she let me go home early.

“And that was… God, even now, all this time after it feels… icky, just thinking about it. And I can’t even - I can’t even imagine, how it felt, for you, after, um, after what - what that guy…” She took another deep breath. “Look, I don’t know where on the spectrum you are when it comes to romance and stuff, like, in terms of favorable and neutral and repulsed and all, but if it were me… Like, um, there was a point in that garden of his where we couldn’t see what was happening, because your camera was pressed up too close to Olren’s chest, but we could still hear, through the mic, and - and even just watching from the Castle, I was getting queasy, got that same feeling in my stomach that I did back then. I should’ve pulled the plug on it right then and there. I should’ve told the others, that’s it, we’re going in there and stopping it. But…”

“Pidge,” Keith said, the word coming out in a dry crackle. “It’s not… I mean, he didn’t even, um - he didn’t manage to - ”

“So what?!” Pidge snapped. “Yeah, he didn’t manage to do the absolute worst, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t do plenty else to you! And don’t try to claim it was any less fucked up than it really was, because you wouldn’t be hiding out in your room like this if everything else he did wasn’t bad too.” With a sigh she set her glasses down on the bed and leaned up against the wall, head tilted toward the ceiling. “Lance and Shiro told us how they found you. How close it got. And Allura and Coran - they turned the camera off, but apparently they still could hear everything. Allura was looking like she was gonna throw up when Hunk and I got back. Just being witnesses to that shit was awful, so to actually have it happen to you… however bad we’re feeling, it’s nowhere close to you. And it’s our fault, for pushing this, for not stopping it. I should have stopped it, fuck, if anyone knows how weird this would have been for you, it’s me. I should’ve - I - ”

“Hey.” Tentatively Keith uncurled a little to reach out a shaking hand toward Pidge. But she was sitting too far from him to reach her, and he couldn’t bring himself to uncurl any further, not right now, so he let his hand drop onto the bedspread as he gulped down the lump in his throat. “Don’t - don’t do that. Don’t start beating yourself up over this. I mean… you… you’re the one who suggested the cameras.” His eyes widened, the realization hitting him even as he said the words. “God, if you hadn’t, then…”

“We wouldn’t have been there to stop it,” Pidge whispered. She let out a strangled sound and brought her hands to her mouth, eyes watering anew. “Holy shit, Keith. This was way too close. Shit, Keith.”

“I know.”

Pidge shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “You know, the others all want to apologize too. It’s why we were all there waiting when you got out of the pod. Well, that and just, you know, making sure you’re okay. Physically. But I - I don’t think it’s possible. To say sorry enough. To be apologetic enough to make it okay.”

Keith winced. “It’s… it isn’t their - ”

“I know, I know, wasn’t our fault. It was that fuckface king’s doing, I know. Not ours. But we all still let it happen. And, well, sure that king was a bastard, and none of us should’ve trusted him. But the rest of us… we’re your teammates. Shiro and Allura, they’re our leaders. You should have been able to trust us.”

Keith was silent, unsure what he could say to that. It wasn’t as if any of them were flawless. Hell, he had made plenty of his own bad calls as the Black Paladin. They had all been thrust against their will into an absolute hell of a situation, unprepared to be soldiers and diplomats and intergalactic symbols of hope. Even Allura had been raised in peacetime, and hadn’t expected to take the throne so suddenly or lead Voltron in Alfor’s stead.

They were all still learning, finding their footing, and they’d come a long way, but… it suddenly seemed almost arrogant, to think that they had come far enough to be making the calls for things like this. And trusting his team’s ability to do so had nearly destroyed him.

“Keith?” Pidge said softly. “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” Keith said. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry, just - just thinking.”

“Oh.”

“I think… I think I need a break.”

Pidge paused, brows wrinkling. “A break… from, um, from being Black Paladin?”

“... I don’t know.”

“Hm.” She pursed her lips.

“It’s not, um, it’s not that I don’t - ”

“You don’t need to explain. I get it.” She sniffed once more and swiped her sleeve across her nose. “Hey, so, uh, how are you - how are you feeling right now about, uh, about being touched?”

“Being touched?” Keith repeated.

“Not - not that way, not like - I meant, like, would you be okay if, say… I hugged you right now?”

“Oh. Um, you can hug me, if you - ”

He didn’t even have a chance to finish his sentence before Pidge was diving across the bed, wrapping Keith in a tight hug and burying her face into the fabric of his jacket. Keith hesitantly returned the hug, resting his face on her shaking shoulder, and as Pidge’s tears soaked his jacket, he couldn’t help letting a few of his own fall as well.

He stayed silent, though, letting Pidge’s muffled sobs be the only sound for the length of the hug until she finally, reluctantly, pulled away and cleared her throat. “Right. Um. So, I told you that the whole team wants to apologize, and, um, if - if you’re okay with it, I just have to give the go ahead and we can meet up in the lounge, get it all out. But only if you’re okay with it.”

Keith took a long, slow breath. “I… probably should hear them out,” he said. “Guess hiding out here isn’t exactly great for me.”

Pidge smiled sadly. “Yeah. Not that you aren’t good at the whole hermit thing, just, there are definitely better talents to have. I’ll message the others.” She pulled the tablet out of her pocket, then frowned before muttering, “Shit,” and digging into the pocket again. “Promised Hunk I’d give you this.” She pulled a little rectangle from the pocket, one of the Altean energy bars Coran had dug out of storage a while back that were surprisingly filling despite tasting like styrofoam. “Seeing as you haven’t eaten anything in forever.”

“Thanks, but, um, I’m kinda nauseous right now. Not up for eating.”

Pidge huffed. “Nausea’s a sign of hunger, genius. It’ll only get worse the longer you don’t eat. Come on, it’s small.” She shoved the bar into Keith’s hand. “Eat it. I’ll message the others, and we can go eat them once you’re done.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but at Pidge’s scowl, he obediently unwrapped the bar and bit into it. After a few taps on the tablet, Pidge pocketed it and watched Keith closely, as if worried he’d try to hide the energy bar instead of eating it, like a picky toddler. He ate slowly and the food sat in his stomach like concrete when he finished, but admittedly he didn’t feel quite as shaky anymore once it was down.

“You ready?” Pidge asked as he crumpled the wrapper and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

“No,” Keith said, but he stood up and nodded toward the door. “But I’m coming. Lead the way.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

He could hear the voices of the other paladins, hushed though they were, as he and Pidge neared the lounge, but they dropped off the moment he entered. All eyes turned toward the entryway, and Keith hovered uncertainly at the edge of the room.

Allura was the first to acknowledge him aloud, rising from her seat with her hands crossed in front of her, almost the very picture of grace and decorum that she always was, but the loose tendrils of hair and tiredness of her eyes gave her away. This wasn’t her making a speech before foreign dignitaries or giving a report to coalition members. This was her being fully aware that the threads holding her team together were growing frayed, and knowing she had played a part, however well-meaning that part may have been.

At least, that was Keith’s best guess as to where her mind was. She was never easy to read, but at the moment, at least she was giving a little away. In the seat adjacent to hers, Shiro’s face was a blank mask, revealing nothing at all, so perhaps it was just her seeming open in comparison.

“Keith,” she said. “It’s good to see you up and about again. I must admit, we were growing worried.”

“Forget worried, Hunk here has been a blubbering mess,” Lance said, gesturing with his thumb toward Hunk, who even now was dewey-eyed and red-nosed.

“Oh, excuse me for caring about my friend’s well-being,” Hunk said. “No shame in crying, Lance.”

“Hey, I didn’t say it to embarrass you or anything, just letting Keith know what he missed while he wasn’t around.”

“The point they are trying to make, Number Four,” Coran interrupted. “Is that we’ve all been quite concerned about you and how you were, ah, dealing with things. I imagine you’ve been having difficult since everything that occurred on Yuipra, and we want to be there for you, if you’ll let us.”

Keith nodded minutely. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Pidge, uh, she told me as much.”

“Well, you certainly deserve to hear it from us too,” Allura said. She nodded toward an empty spot on the sofa beside Shiro. “Will you please take a seat?”

“If you want to,” Hunk said hastily. “You know, only if you’re comfortable. You can stand, if that’s better. Or, here, I’ve got the good cushion, you can take my seat - ”

“Hunk,” said Pidge. “Take it easy.”

“That’s okay, Hunk,” Keith said, slowly descending the steps toward the center of the lounge as Pidge followed close behind. “I’m fine here.” He settled in next to Shiro, glancing toward him as he did. Shiro offered him a little smile that didn’t seem to reach his eyes, but kept his hands folded tightly in his lap.

“Right,” Allura said, lowering herself back into her seat and smoothing out her already smooth dress. “Now. I’m sure you know that the reason we all want to speak to - ”

“We’re sorry!” Hunk cried out suddenly. “Oh my God, Keith, we are so so so sorry! About what happened with Olren, and making you do that practicing and making dumb jokes during the ‘date’ thing and not stopping and it was so messed up, man, so messed up, and that guy is a total sicko and we never should have let him so much as touch you but we did and that was wrong and we didn’t listen, oh God, you said you didn’t want to but we didn’t listen and he almost - ”

“Hunk, breathe!” Lance said, grabbing his shoulder as Hunk let out a long, loud sniffle.

“Um,” Keith said. “Uh, look, Hunk, it’s okay - ”

“We appreciate the sentiment, Keith,” said Coran. “But no, it’s really not. We know how bad things got down there, and it wouldn’t have gotten that way if we hadn’t pushed it the way we had. You deserve to have your boundaries and your comfort respected, and it shouldn’t have taken something like this to get us to realize it.”

Lance sighed. “Yeah, dude, it was - it was fucked up, honestly. Look, I don’t really, um, get how you, uh - like, your whole thing about dates, it’s not something I can, uh, relate to, or whatever, but - but it’s pretty obvious that it matters. A lot. And I, um, I shouldn’t have, like, been making jokes about it or making fun of you while everything was going on. I mean, I swear I wasn’t trying to be mean about anything, honest, I was trying to relieve the tension. But, uh, there shouldn’t have been all that tension in the first place, is what I’m saying. And I kinda just made things worse. I’m sorry too.”

“I certainly don’t expect you to just be all right with everything right away,” Allura said. “Well, I should say, I don’t expect you to ever be all right with what happened with King Olren, but I meant that I understand if you’re not quick to forgive our involvement. You made it clear from the start how dreadful something like this was for you, but I was too focused on Yuipra’s resources to realize you were hurting. There are other alliances out there that we can make, other planets we can bring into the coalition. But there’s only one Keith and… we nearly were careless enough to let that be destroyed. I cannot apologize enough.”

“Neither can I, Keith,” Shiro said, speaking up for the first time since Keith had arrived. “I know you have your boundaries, and I know how important they are to you, and you deserve to have them respected. Believe me, if I had had even the slightest inkling of what kind of person Olren was, what he really wanted from you, I never would have encouraged you to agree to the date. I’m sorry that everything turned out the way they - ”

“Hang on,” Pidge said, lifting her hand slightly. “What do you mean by that?”

Shiro blinked over at her. “What? By ‘sorry’?”

Pidge shook her head. “No, not that. You said that if you’d known how far Olren wanted to go, you would’ve stopped it.”

“Pidge, I don’t know what you - ”

“Look, this isn’t a conditional thing, okay?” Pidge said, her eyes narrowing. “Sure, Olren was a bastard who deserves to have his large intestine ripped out through his throat, but that’s not the point.”

“Ew. Pidge,” said Lance.

Pidge ignored him. “Imagine that wasn’t the case. Say that Olren was a perfect chaste gentleman throughout the whole evening with Keith. Wouldn’t change the fact that we had pushed Keith into going on a date after he made it clear how distressing that would be for him, basically ignored him after he came out to all of us. That’s still on us.”

Shiro sighed. “Pidge, I’m apologizing for that, you know that I’m sorry about all of this.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“Pidge,” said Keith. “It’s okay, you don’t need to - ”

“Yes, I do, okay?” said Pidge. “Sure, everyone’s sorry, but, shit, we all gotta make sure we know what we’re apologizing for. What Olren did, that’s not our fault. We didn’t make him treat Keith the way he did. But Keith being there in the palace with him in the first place? That’s our fault. And that’s what we have to take away from this. What if next time someone wants to get all cozy with Keith in exchange for an alliance, it’s someone who’s actually sweet and polite and non-rapey. Does that mean it’s okay now to force Keith into their arms against his will, tell him to grin and bear it?”

Shiro grimaced. “Look, that’s really not relevant to - ”

“Holy shit, Shiro, the answer is no!” Pidge said, getting to her feet and jabbing her finger toward him. “Are you fucking serious right now?!”

“Pidge, you need to calm down,” Shiro said, a bit of a stony edge creeping into his own voice. “I know that, okay? I don’t need you making me feel any more terrible about this whole thing than I already do. Because I do. I feel awful and the last thing I would ever want is to see my little brother hurting like this. You know that, don’t you, Keith?”

Keith gulped and nodded. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

“And it was never my intention to disrespect you or harm you in any way.”

“Oh, good,” Pidge huffed. “Because the road to Heaven is the one that’s paved with good intentions, right?”

Shiro sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Allura cleared her throat. “You know what, this is all growing rather intense,” she said. “We’re all tired, emotions are running high. Perhaps it would be best to clear our heads for a bit. We all could do with a chance to cool down.”

“Good idea,” Lance said, getting to his feet as his eyes darted between Pidge and Shiro. “Uh, Coran, you got any more of those smoky bubble things for the bathtubs?”

“Oh, plenty, Number Three,” Coran said. “I’ll show you where I keep them. Keith, would you be interested in trying one? I can’t begin to describe how relaxing they are. Don’t even need to take a bath with them, just plop them in a bowl of water near your bed and enjoy the mist.”

“I’ll pass, thanks, Coran,” said Keith.

Coran nodded understandingly toward him before following Lance out of the lounge, and Pidge stomped off behind them without a word to the others. The rest of the team began making their way out of the lounge too, while Keith stayed seated, unmoving.

“Hey,” Shiro said, his expression pinched and tight as he got to his feet beside Keith. “I do mean it. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Keith said.

“About everything.”

Keith nodded.

“You okay?”

“... Uh-huh,” Keith said.

“Good,” said Shiro. He hesitated, then gave Keith a stiff pat on the shoulder. “If you need to talk some more, my door’s always open.”

“Right. Thanks, Shiro.” One more pat on his shoulder, and then Shiro was gone. Keith didn’t bother watching him leave, just listened to his receding footsteps as they gradually faded to silence.

#aroace keith #vldgen #vld fic #keith #pidge #my writing #fic: kings over aces

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aquariusrunes · 4 years

Text

The Superfriends AU (part 12)

Damian kept his eyes on Marinette.

She had been off all day, and their talk that morning had only proven his suspicions. Something was bothering her, and it was all Adrien Agreste’s fault. His fists clenched as the woman in front of him began working on him. Thinking about that blonde tom cat made his blood boil. Whatever he did, Damian would kill him for it. His cousin was sweet and naive despite her vast genius. She wanted to trust people, and when she did, she did it with her whole heart. And that blonde buffoon had broken it in to a million pieces.

It wasn’t just the boy though, no. It was also that stupid video, it had to be. He hadn’t enjoyed it when it was sent to his phone. It was messy and loud, and while he had misjudged the small blonde girl, he still thought the spectacle was stupid. Anyone who poked a cadged animal was stupid, and that was obviously what that Italian girl was.

At least he was finally able to put a face to the name of Lila Rossi.

It was a tactical failure for sure. His cousin had mentioned that she had everything involving the girl under control, but this was not what she could have planned. Marinette looked like she was on the verge of puking all morning, Damian recognized regret easily enough. That had been why he’d tried to talk to her, only to find out that it was the mistake of the morning and something that awful model had done that was upsetting her.

Now his phone was being blown up with messages from the small blonde french girl who was, for some reason, still in his phone as ‘Sweetness.’ She wouldn’t stop texting him, hadn’t since the video had arrived. She apparently got the wrong idea from their earlier correspondence and was now under the impression that they were friends. And she kept asking for pictures of him and Colin.

Said boy was currently the one in possession of his phone. His boyfriend was switching between gleefully rewarching the video with a wickedly satisfied grin and texting with the blonde girl. Damian found the whole thing ridiculous, seeing how Colin didn’t know any French. Yet somehow he and the girl were holding some sort of conversation and he was, apparently, taking immense joy from the video that he couldn’t even understand.

Suddenly a brush was in his face, painting foundation onto his skin. Damian could make a list fifty feet long detailing how much he hated makeup. He would growl at the woman currently caking his face in the disgusting stuff, but Colin was sitting in front of him on the edge of the platform, and the last thing he needed was for the redhead to be mad at him.

Marinette was currently in a changing room, trying on the brand new outfit Edna’s people had slapped together in just under an hour and a half. Chloé was, strangely, also in the changing room his cousin was in. The two girls had been inseparable from one another’s sides since coming back from lunch.

It was strange.

Damian didn’t like it.

The blonde bitch was surely just trying to get his cousin to stop being upset with her precious model, which would not fly while Damian was here. He wouldn’t let Marinette be manipulated like that. Honestly, she was far too trusting. And here he thought she knew better than to trust that bitch. He’d have to talk to her later about Bourgeois. Even if Jon liked her, something was off about the girl, a feeling he couldn’t rip from his gut despite trying for the half Kryptonian’s sake.

Damian’s eyes scanned the room, his mind suddenly being alerted to an absence. Something was missing. Someone was missing. The person’s absence had been nagging at him all morning, but then the empty space was filled during lunch. But it was gone now once again.

“Colin.” he nudge the boy’s back with his foot. “Where did Jon go?”

“Dunno, he got a call from his dad and wandered off to take it in private.” Colin looked up, neck twisted to stare at his boyfriend. “It’s actually weird, because he was on the phone with his mom all morning.”

“Why did Lois call him?”

“I don’t know.” The redhead shrugged. “But it seemed like it really messed with him. I tried to ask him about it but then Mr. Kent called and he disappeared.” Colin’s eyes went back to Damian’s phone, texting out a few more messages before looking back at his boyfriend. “Actually, I haven’t seen Mr. Wayne around either. Do you know where he is?”

“He informed me last night that their was some business he had to attend to, something to do with Diana Prince’s exhibit at The Gotham Museum of Antiquities.” Damian leaned back in his seat, the look Colin gave him making it clear he understood the code. A Justice League Emergency. “He said he should be back before the festivities at the end of the week.”

“Do you know what happened?” Colin asked, turning his whole body to face the boy, scooting over a tad so that the makeup artist wasn’t blocking his view. “At the museum, I mean.”

Damian shook his head, his chin quickly being grabbed by the woman working on him, forcing him to stay still. He bit back a growl before responding. “Wouldn’t tell me a word. Maybe Kent’s filling Jon in on it. If my father’s involved I would assume his father is as well.”

Colin tried not to laugh at his boyfriend’s obvious discomfort. “Guess we’ll just have to wait for him then.” Colin turned back around, eyes going back to the phone. “God she is so nice,” He whispered.

“How are you even holding a conversation with her?” Damian asked.

“Rose is fluent in four languages, English being one of them.” Colin smiled back at him. “I think I’ve made a new best friend.” he teased. Damian just sighed. Between his cousin and his boyfriend, he was never going to get his phone back.

Suddenly Colin’s head whipped back around. “Wait, what would Mrs. Lane have to do with the museum?”

Damian thought for a moment. Lois wasn’t overly involved in Justice League affairs. She was a deputized civilian, meaning she was technically a League member. It was a complicated system that was hard to explain and sometimes difficult even for Damian to decipher. But he did know that Lois handled the bulk of the League's publicity. Thanks to how she handled Superman, and a handful of other heroes, before she even knew their identities.

But what kind of disruption could need Lois, Clark, Bruce, and Diana?

“I don’t know.” Damian resisted the urge to rub his chin. The only thing involving the League and Lois at the current moment was Lex Luthor Senior. The man had been in jail for several months now and his trial was quickly approaching. They’d tried to get that man arrested on several charges including tax fraud, terrorism, and other things, for many year, but nothing ever stuck. But now, now they had him on attempted murder, attempted murder of Lois Lane. Usually this wouldn’t fly, with the public knowing Lois’s loyalties to Superman and the League it would be assumed anything she said to reflect negatively on Luthor would be for the heroes, but they had a witness now.

“The case maybe?” He whispered, hoping to god nothing bad had happened. If that man got out so many things would go up in flames. He would have to get in touch with Tim, ask him to ask Conner. He hated Conor being so involved with his half brother, put if Lex Jr. really was so great, maybe he would have some useful information.

“Case?” Colin asked.

“Look up Lois Lane and Lex Luthor, see what pops up.” Damian turned his attention back to the woman currently painting his lips an ice blue. He didn’t want to discuss such sensitive things carelessly out in public. He also didn’t want Jon to magically appear while they were discussing it. He knew the whole situation was bothering him. But, no one took the attempted murder of their parent well. At least, that’s what Damian’s experience told him.

…

Marinette was living for this redesign.

The tube top had been changed to black, the shall had disappeared, a silver collar, like Chloé’s golden one, now adorned her neck. Instead of the skirt she now wore a pair of high waisted black short shorts, a thick silver belt wrapped around her abdomen. Silk straps in silver, lavender, dark blue, and a lighter black made up the overskirt that hid most of the shorts, only exposing them from the front few. She was also now given shoes, heeled gladiator boots in silver, matching all of her jewelry. The diadem, earrings and bracelets from earlier had also stayed apart of the outfit.

Was it less revealing? No.

If anything it was more so.

But it was a million times more fashionable, and by Edna’s smile said that she knew it too.

Marinette still felt awful, and if anything was a million times more confused after her talk with Chloé, which was still on going. Every time they had a break, the blonde girl would start whispering more of her story, basically retelling the past three years from her perspective.

Chloé was in her outfit from earlier that morning, the two girls were on a platform filled with fake pink, orange, blue, and whtie clouds. Currently Marinette’s back was leaned against the blonde’s, repositioning her head as the photographer dictated.

“I’m a little pissed.” Chloé whispered. “The boy’s get to-” The flash of the camera went off, several photos being taken. “Get to do their photoshoot with bows and arrows. Like that’s so unfair.”

“Bows and arrows?” Her cousin? Angry at Adrien? With a bow and arrow in his proximity? That would not be good.

“Totally unfair, I want to play with weapons too.” Chloé’s pout only lasted a moment before the photographer was ordering them to pose in different positions. The group shots the other day hadn’t been awful, mainly because she was only taking pictures with Damian. It was beyond strange to be all over Chloé, especially with how sensitive her thoughts towards the girl currently were.

She had known.

She had known for years.

She’d been akumatized multiple times with knowledge of both her and her partner’s identities in her head and Hawkmoth never found out. She didn’t even know how that was possible. Just how much control did Hawkmoth really have?

But possibly what had taken her by surprise the most, what she still couldn’t quite believe, was that her sweet, idiotic, adorable partner, outed himself with Physics.

“Physics?” Marinette was in disbelief at the blonde’s words, her sandwich barely half eaten.

Chloé simply nodded. “Yup.” She leaned forward, having laid down on the bed, she propped her chin on her hands. “See, back before Adri started school, I would go over to his house and try and get him to do some of my homework for me, cause he’s crazy smart ya know?”

“I think only Max can surpass him in book smarts.” Marinette nodded.

“Well, he would never actually do anything for me. But he’d explain everything.” Chloé rolled her eyes. “Adrien has a very specific way he explains things, especially physics.” She leaned forward a little further. “So, when Ladybug instructed Chat Noir to watch over me after Nathaniel got akumatized I tried to get him to do my homework.”

“Oh my god.” Marinette mumbled through a mouth full of sandwich.

“And he started explaining in that special Adrien way. He even said, ‘You go this Chlo’ which is what he always said whenever I would get frustrated while he was helping me.”

“Physics.” The bluenette mumbled, after swallowing. “I always thought he’d out himself with a pun.”

“You okay?” Chloé’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, Marinette blinked a few times, smiling at the woman touching up her lipstick. The woman smiled back before leaving the platform.

“Fine.” Marinette huffed. “Just lost in thought.

“I know everything we talked about was a lot, sorry to dump it on you so suddenly.” Chloé looked down, eyes on her clasped hands.

“Honestly, it was probably for the best. If you hadn’t told me when you did I would have just been worrying about it all day long.” Marinette’s hand raised, landing on Chloé’s shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly. “But you do know that I’ve got to tell Adrien, or if you want to-”

“I think I’d prefer it if you did.” Marinette nodded.

“Alright girls!” The photographer clapped. “I want Artemis laying on that cloud, and Apollo on her stomach on that one!” He pointed as he spoke, both girls going where told, adjusting their bodies at the man’s command.

Marinette’s eyes ran over the room before focusing back on the camera. Damian still wasn’t in his outfit. It still hadn’t been fetched from Italy. Edna had mentioned Violet’s younger brother. The bluenette’s mind was filled with memories from her last visit to the Mode Building, when she’d first met Violet and a very eager eleven year old who would not stop aggressively hitting on her.

If who she thought was really going to collect this garment, she could only hope that he wouldn’t be let up onto the floor where the shoot was happening. Violet probably wouldn’t allow it. She’d collect it from him in the lobby or something and bring it up herself.

She’d just been dealing with so much today, she didn’t know if she could handle-

‘ ding ’

She really did have the most fantastic luck.

The elevator door slid open, a short muscular fourteen year old sauntering out with a black garment bag slung over his shoulder. A self satisfied smirk plastered across his chiseled jaw. His cheekbones hard and square, the bridge of his sloped nose splashed with light brown freckles. His blonde hair was swept back, resembling someone who’d just gone for a joy ride in a ferrari. He swaggered across the room, a free hand stuck deep into his khaki slacks. His clothing suggesting he’d just come from a private school of sorts.

“Have no fear!” He announced, holding up his free hand. “Your hero is here!” He pressed it to his chest, mumbling something along the lines of “hold the applause please.”

Violet came into the room from behind him, smacking him across the back of the head and snatching the bag out of his hand. “You’re late.”

“Ow!” He said very pointedly at her, so pointedly that Marinette doubted it actually hurt. “You said asap, well, I had a test.”

“Like you actually try in any math class.” She walked past him, taking the garment straight to the changing rooms, several other assistants flocked to her, checking the outfit for possible damages from transit.

The boy shot his sister a dirty look before turning his attention to Edna, the woman was standing in the middle of the room. “Dashiell!” She called, arms open wide.

“Edna!” He opened his own arms, but instead of hugging they high fived, resulting in a complicated handshake that reminded Marinette of her and her cousin’s own. “So good to see you!”

“I trust you had no trouble?” The woman asked.

“Not an ounce.” He smiled wide. “I assure you, I took this job as seriously as possible, I even went a longer root so that I would be on the water for the shortest time possible.” Marinette didn’t know Dash well, but she did know he was god awful at keeping his secret identity underwraps. She had never been more thankful for the fact that a specific person didn’t know she was a superhero.

“Who is that?” Chloé whispered harshly to her.

“Dash Parr.” Marinette said dryly, watching as Edna handed Dash a thick stack of American dollars. “Violet’s little brother.”

“So, we don’t like him?” The blonde asked.

“As promised, double the normal fee, in assorted bills.” Edna said, patting Dash’s hand once the money was in his grip.

“Happy I could be of assistance.”

“And if your parents ask?” The short woman’s eyebrow quirked up.

“As far as mom knows, I just wanted to see my lovely sister.” The boy’s grin turned into a smirk. “And as far as dad’s concerned, I ran across an ocean today in under three minutes.” Dash winked, the two girls, and several other workers, watched as Edna pulled a fifty dollar bill from her coat, placing it on top of Dash’s stack.

“Always a pleasure Dashiell.” She patted the boy’s cheek before turning back to the photographer.

Marinette was hopeful for a moment, finally responding to Chloé’s question. “It’s not necessarily that we don’t like him.” The boy turned, most likely to leave, but for a moment he faced Marinette and Chloé’s platform. His eyes locked on her. And suddenly he was walking towards them.

All hope was lost.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheg!” he called.

“Cheg?” Chloé whispered.

Marinette held back her grimace. “Hi Dash.” She bit out through clenched teeth.

“Well,” His eyes ran up and down her body and Marinette had never felt more icky in her entire life. “Don’t you just look awesome.”

Chloé’s eyes narrowed. “How old are you?” She whispered, watching as Dash hopped up on the platform. He was a few inches shorter than Marinette, meaning he was several inches shorter than Chloé.

“Fourteen gorgeous,” Dash winked at her and Chloé’s face twisted immediately.

“Oh god no.” She spat.

“How’ve you been Mar-Mar?” He asked, leaning against one of the clouds, he immediately began to flex.

“Mar-Mar?” Chloé asked, eyes narrowing. “What is happening?” She began looking around, trying to find someone to explain. Damian had been shoved into a changing room now that his garment was here, and Adrien was getting his makeup touched up for his and Damian’s shoot.

Chloé was curious as to what would happen when the boy noticed, but seeing as Gabriel was in attendance today, she thought it best not to draw his attention. When she turned her attention back to Marinette, the girl’s face had grown extremely pensive. The short blonde boy was bragging about how much he could bench press.

Chloé took a step closer to the girl, leaning close to whisper in her ear. “No, seriously,” She hissed. “Who is this kid?”

Marinette only shook her head. Both girls turning back to face Dash as he launched into a story about how the entire cheerleading team was currently arguing over who he’d be taking to prom. “Course I haven’t said yes to anyone yet.” He winked at Marinette again, this time Chloé was close enough to feel the girl shiver. “Incase a special little lady shows up intime.”

Chloé grabbed Marinette’s hand, unsure what else to do in the moment.

“DASH!” All three of them jumped at the noramly calm Violet’s angry shout. “Oh my god! Get off of there! We are in the middle of a shoot.” Violet reached up and grabbed Dash’s ear. She yanked him off the platform that surprised Chloé but didn’t seem to phase Marinette.

“Ow! Ow! OW! Violet!” The boy cried.

“No!” Violet began to march toward the elevators. “No! No! No! You need to leave now! You are disrupting the shoot! Demarcus!” a large black man suddenly appeared, he was dressed in a nice suit and was very obviously security. “Please escort Dash here out of the building, in fact, make sure he leaves the city.”

“Yes ma’am.” Demarcus took Dash’s arm. “If you’d come with me please sir.”

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Vi!”

“What?” Violet crossed her arms, face set in a glare.

“There are a bunch of robot pigeons that keep showing up at the house, and Mom is starting to get really frustrated cause JackJack keeps fighting them and-”

“Oh my god.” Violet slapped her forehead. “Okay, just please leave. I’ll talk to Hiro.” Violet turned away as the door closed on Dash and Damarcus. “Jesus christ I hate all of them.”

Chloé slowly turned to Marinette, releasing the girl’s hand. “No seriously,” She said. “What-who was that? What just happened?”

Marientte sighed, slumping against one of the clouds. “That was Dashiell Robert Parr.”

“I hated that.” Chloé said. “I never want to experience that again in my entire life.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” The bluenette crossed her arms. “He’s a lot.”

“He called you Mar-Mar Dupain-Cheg.” Chloé pointed out. “Like, what the hell? Cheg? Mar-Mar?” Chloé looked around, almost like she was trying to find proof of what she just experienced. “Did I dream that?”

“More like nightmared it.” Marinette commented.

Chloé stared at her wide eyed. “Mar-Mar.” Chloé said monotone. “And I thought Bugaboo was a stupid nickname.”

…

Adrien rolled his shoulders, trying to regain some sense of comfort now that he was strapped into the white silk tank top. Thick leather straps in brass and gold had been draped tastefully around his abdomen, then wrapped tightly around his bare arms, constricting his muscles to the point where it was hard to move. But he didn’t want to make the jobs of the two men working on sorting his outfit any more difficult than it had to be, so he stayed as still as possible.

“God she’s a genius.” He had heard something along those lines so many times in the past two days, he’d lost count. He had greatly underestimated just how much Edna Mode was worshiped by her followers. Not that he disagreed, or not a lot, but he definitely thought that for some of the designs he’d seen so far, Marinette could easily make a better version. His point only being proved by Marinette’s amazing redesign of her own outfit that very morning.

And she did that while not even functioning at a hundred percent.

It was pretty obvious to Adrien that his partner had been off all morning. Heck, he had been off all morning. He was hoping to talk to her over lunch, see if he couldn’t help her and maybe discuss some things that had been distressing him as well. But Chloé had dragged her off before Adrien could even get to her.

Now that was distressing.

The two girls showed back up to the shoot together an hour and a half later, looking thick as thieves. While the thought of his oldest friend and his best friend (best female friend as Nino was his best male friend and that was the only way he could sort them in good conscience because they both meant so much to him) finally getting along made him so happy, he would be lying if he said their time alone didn’t worry him.

One of the men wrapped a gaudy golden belt around his middle, it was thick and rested heavily against his hips, but he didn’t complain. “You really do look like an everyday adonis.” The other man commented.

“Thank you.” Adrien gave a polite smile as one of the men started adjusting the straps that fell over the belt. Soon four sets of hands were at work on the straps hanging off the slim dark brown pants he wore. A woman came over, fixing his quiffed hair to be a bit more messy. Edna had referred to the style as ‘sex hair’ but he preferred to think of it as a windswept look. Once the woman was done with his hair she moved on to his neck, placing a heavy golden collar around his throat, letting it rest against his shoulders. It reminded him of a cat collar.

Next to him stood Damian. The boy wore a black vest with silver accents, his arms wrapped in similar leather straps to Adrien’s, but his were colored silver and ice blue. He wore loose black slacks, silver leather straps hanging off the sides of his hips in hooped fashion, the straps having similar black details to the vest.

In terms of jewelry, Damian had a silver collar like Adiren’s gold one, but he did not have a belt like Adrien. Instead Damian’s wrists were clad in long gauntlet like silver bracelets. He also had a silver diadem placed on his forehead. A brilliant blue stone set in its center, it matched Marinette’s eyes well, and also matched the matte color Damian’s lips had been painted.

“You know, when Edna referred to these as strappy ensembles, I was kind of hoping she was kidding.” Adrien said, eyes moving back to focus on his reflection.

“Edna doesn’t kid, especially when it comes to her work.” Damian’s voice was monotone, his hands raised to push back the curls of his bangs.

“Seems like that runs in the family.” Adrien whispered, hoping Damian hadn’t heard him once the words left his mouth. “So…” God, this silence hurt.

“We don’t need to talk while this happens.” Damian said, eyes firm on his reflection, it looked like he was glaring at himself.

“Oh-o-okay.” Adrien looked down, as the woman who put the collar on him placed a golden diadem on his forehead. His stone was a much darker blue, possibly Lapis Lazuli but he wasn’t sure. All the knowledge he had in regards to gemstones came from Steven Universe.

“Couple of Princes the two of you.” The woman said, smiling at the boys. “No wonder Edna fought so hard for you.”

“She fought for him, I agreed rather seamlessly.” Damian corrected. “Am I done?” He looked over at her, eyes cold.

“Oh, um yes.”

“Good.” Damian walked away from the two, going to sit down on one of Edna’s platforms that’s only purpose, Adrien was roughly seventy-percent certain, was to make the woman taller. His boyfriend greeted him cheerfully, but seemed to be mainly preoccupied with Damian’s phone.

“Well isn’t he a ray of sunshine.” The woman commented, resting her hand on her hip as she cocked it out.

“No kidding.” Adrien whispered, eyes downcast. It didn’t necessarily bother him when people didn’t like him, he’d had fans and haters since day one of his career. But it was bothering him that someone so important to Marinette disliked him, or at least it seemed like Damian didn’t like him. Adrien could see Damian in the mirror, he was glaring at him.

It also didn’t help that he’d had a knot in his stomach since he found out Marinette’s plan that morning. Nino’s video only amplifying his pains. While he didn’t like Lila, and knew she needed to be stopped, he couldn’t help but think there was a better way to do it then publicly humiliate her in front of the whole school. She wasn’t a good person but she wasn’t down right evil, she deserved a little sympathy.

Or maybe Adrien was just too nice. Which was something Chloé had insisted that morning when he complained about not liking what was happening. Plagg had agreed with her when Adrien relayed the story to him. Saying that Adrien was far too forgiving for his own good, and insisting once again, that it was okay to be angry with someone. He knew that. He wasn’t a child. Nor was he as innocent and helpless as people around him seemed to think. He just didn’t like conflict.

He wished, once again, that he could have discussed these feelings with Marinette at lunch. He knew he would feel better once he talked things out with her, he always did. That is why he originally started visiting her as Chat Noir. Marinette, as herself or as his lady, she always made things better, made people feel better, made him feel better. He just needed a few minutes with her, to discuss what happened, explain why it caused him such unrest. He needed to hear her side. Needed to talk to her, or maybe just be in her close proximity again, after she dodge him all morning long.

Just a few minutes.

She was like a battery, super charging him whenever she was near.

Suddenly a large ornate golden bow was handed to the blonde boy. It was heavy in his hands, and he had to wonder amidst his marveling at the details, if this was a real weapon. Had someone just handed him, a sixteen year old boy, a real weapon?

He looked around, sure this must be a mistake, but instead of someone taking the thing away, he was taken by the arm. One of the men from earlier leading him to the platform, a forest scene. His stage for the next photoshoot. A photoshoot that involved weapons?

He saw someone handing Damian a silver bow identical to his golden one. Adrien couldn’t put his finger on why, but it made his stomach drop. Now Damian had a weapon, a real weapon. That couldn’t be a good idea. This couldn’t be right. There had to be a mistake of some kind, right?

Suddenly he was on the platform. Damian facing him across the fake grass. His eyes still set in a galre. Adrien gulped. He had an awful feeling.

“Okay!” The photographer shouted. “So I want these photos to have a bit more aggression to them. You boys think you can give me that aggressive vibe?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe.”

Damian’s quick answer only made the blonde boy even more nervous.

“Good!” The bald man clapped his hands. “Someone give them their arrows.”

Arrows!?

…

Damian couldn’t help the smirk that stretched across his features as he placed his arrow against the bow’s string. It felt good, natural. You never forget, it’s like riding a bike. Weapons always made him feel so comfortable. He knew how to deal with weapons, unlike people.

His cousin was in distress, and now she was avoiding him. She was upset because of Adrien Agreste. He upset her and she was still worried about him, it was obvious. She was worried Damian would do something, which he wouldn’t of course. But he wanted to. He wanted to do something to make her feel better.

“Wouldn’t piercing that pretty face with an arrow make her feel better?” Something wicked whispered in his ear. The voice was icky and made his skin crawl, evil. It sounded like his grandfather, but at the same time like his mother.

Hurting Adrien wouldn’t make her feel better, just Damian.

He pulled the drawstring back, stopping when it grazed the corner of his lips. The photographer told them to do it, but Adrien wasn’t doing it quite right. Someone had to get up on the platform and help him, show him how to position it correctly.

He reminded Damian of a baby deer, fumbling on new legs.

“Easy Pray.” The voice whispered.

It was like riding a bike. His senses were always on fire, acutely aware of how to take down everyone around him. Even with all the training, all the philosophies his father had spent years shoveling into his head, his inner assassin never slept. His beast was always awake, waiting for a week spot in Damian’s defenses, waiting to break out and cause havoc.

Damian barely registered the flashes of the camera.

He was so angry, the longer he stared at Adrien’s face. The blonde’s glare was fake, he knew that. The boy didn’t seem like he had it in him to hate. Damian had too much capacity for hate, or so people told him.

Damian’s glare was real.

He had a large capacity for hate, currently that hate was mostly directed towards Adrien. Marinette trusted too easily, she trusted her heart to people too easily. Why would she pick someone to love who could hurt her so easily?

More flashes, he registered these even less.

They were told to walk forward a few paces, they both did. Adrien had to have that same assistant come and help him reposition his bow. How was he a hero? How was Paris not destroyed? How was his cousin still alive with a partner who was so useless, with a partner who so carelessly hurt her.

“He hurt her.”

Did he care that he hurt her? Damian hadn’t seen the two of them speak since Adrien left them that morning. Adrien was avoiding Marinette, that was the only explanation. Of course, he was hurting her and he knew it.

“He wants her to hurt.”

Damian was so angry.

...

“Now some without the bows!” Edna had clapped, clapping while giving orders, it was something she had always done. But Damian had lost focus on the world around him, he was just so angry. He’d lost focus. The noise startled him.

He hadn’t meant to.

He didn’t mean to.

His eyes widened as a scream filled the room. It was his cousin, he knew that. She screamed. Marinette screamed and then his arrow sunk deep into the fake bark of a prop tree. He’d missed Adrien by a millimeter, he was sure there was a cut on the blonde’s cheek. It wouldn’t be more than a hair's breadth. But it would be there.

Edna would know it.

Marinette would know it.

Damian knew it.

He wasn’t trained to miss. He always hit his target. Not always lethally, but he always hit them. He had just been so angry. He was startled. He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t. It was an accident, he was startled.

“Damian!”

“Oh my god!”

“Adrien!”

Suddenly Marinette and Chloé were on the platform. The girls flanking the blonde’s sides. For his worth, Adrien hadn’t moved. It was like the arrow hadn’t even phased him. All he had done was lower his weapon.

Enda was at Damian’s side. He hadn’t lowered the bow yet. She ripped it from his hands. She was yelling at him but he wasn’t quite registering it yet. He had been startled and his hand slipped.

Marinette’s eyes hurt.

His eyes had the power to cut people, cut them down, crush their strength, strike fear. Her eyes had the power to hurt, to cause hearts to break. He felt that hurt, felt his chest ache as she stared at him, eyes narrowed, frown set.

Adrien had hurt her.

Damian had hurt him.

Had Damian hurt her?

“Damian what the hell was that!” He was hit by the bow, his head ached now along with his heart. Edna was still at his side, she was fuming.

“I-” He didn’t know what to say, honestly. He hadn't meant to. His fingers slipped, he was startled and it made him release. It was an accident. “I don’t know.” He whispered.

“You don’t know?!” Edna shouted. “You shot at him!”

“I’m fine Ms. Mod-Enda. Really, I am.” Adrien raised his hands, why was he trying to help? Damian had just shot at him.

“Adrien you’re hurt.” Marinette’s fingers traced the cut, the boy flinched barely. Tender flesh. Damian knew she’d be able to see it.

“It’s just a cut.” The blonde whispered.

“Edna that psychopath just shot an arrow at my son!” Gabriel Agreste’s voice cut through the crowd. Now the asshole cared? Damian couldn’t help the thought.

“Why are these real arrows?” Chloé asked, getting Marinette’s attention. “Shouldn’t they just be props?”

“Did you seriously give him a real weapon?” Marinette’s words were quieter, but Damian caught them. He was dangerous with weapons, everyone in his family knew that. They feared him when he was armed.

“Edna.” Gabriel pulled the woman a way.

Damian had to wonder if he would be getting sent home. They were only two days into the shoot. His father wasn’t here to defend him. Would Father defend him? Edna could easily replace him, eat into a few safety days to reshoot. Maybe it was for the best? If a Justice League emergency was brewing they might need him.

They wouldn’t ask him to leave, he would ask to be dismissed. It was only right after all. He caused such an incident. He should leave. They would want him to.

Damian stepped down from the platform. He felt an odd sort of emptiness, not even necessarily regret. Just nothingness. He was used to that feeling, it was much safer than anything remotely close to an emotion.

Suddenly he was grabbed by the arm and pulled off to a secluded corner. He hadn’t even registered the person until they were yelling at him in harsh whispers.

“Damian what the fuck was that?!” Oh, it was his boyfriend.

The dark skinned boy blinked a few times, probably more times than necessary, but he still wasn’t quite back yet. Still wasn’t quite sure what had happened. His eyes focused on Colin. He was angry, it was obvious, he was disappointed.

With focus came his emotions, back and at full force.

They hurt like a bitch.

Marientte was upset with him, he hurt her. Edna was upset with him, she was angry with him. Colin was disappointed with him. Colin was disappointed in him. “I-I’m I don’t-” Damian tried to figure out his words but everything wasn’t quite back yet, not back in focus.

“Damian you just shot that kid with a freaking arrow!” The redhead growled. “Why? Why did you do that? What the hell was that!”

“I-don’t know.” He finally managed. God, now he was the baby deer wasn’t he?

“You don’t know?” Colin hissed. “Damian you almost killed him!”

“It was just a scratch.” Defensive. He was defending himself, his actions, that’s right. Because he’d messed up, he’d slipped up. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to?” Colin asked, eyes scrutinizing. “Damian you aimed, you shot, you hit him.” His jaw was set. “Why? Why did you do that? What the hell Damian!”

He’d only used his full name this whole time. No nicknames, no shortening it, no pet names. It was strange, but that hurt more than Marinette’s eyes.

“I don’t know.” Damian choked. “I don’t-I didn’t mean to. Enda startled me and I just let go-my finger slipped I didn’t mean to.” He was drowning, that’s what it felt like. Colin was so angry at him. He had never seen Colin angry at him quite like this. Though, typically, when Damian hurt people, far past the point that he should have, it was a very bad man. Sometimes Colin even helped him.

“I didn’t mean to.” Damian whispered, eyes falling to the floor.

He should apologize, shouldn’t he? Yes, say he was sorry for hurting the model. He should apologize to Colin and Marinette and Enda. So they wouldn’t be hurt or angry or disappointed any more. But the problem with him wanting to apologize was that he could never get the words out.

Colin sighed, turning away from Damian. His head shook as he began walking away. He was still angry and hurt and disappointed. And Damian still couldn’t breath or focus right. He was in trouble, his father would be upset. Everyone was upset.

He headed for the changing rooms as quickly as possible. He needed to be out of this environment. He needed to be somewhere else.

He needed to breath.

…

Well, today was just going swimmingly.

First Damian got woken up and torn away from his warm and cuddly boyfriend. Then that distressing video. Then his cousin, who was obviously upset, wouldn’t talk to him. Then Colin stole his phone and got a brand new best friend in the form of some random french girl. Then he tried to defend his cousin’s honor, but instead got yelled at by his boyfriend and aunt and by Gabriel Agreste. And his cousin, his cousin looked so upset with him. Colin wasn’t talk to him either. He was being ignored and possibly suffered a panic attack in the changing room, but wasn’t quite sure. He’d never been good at diagnosing his own symptoms, just the symptoms of others.

And now Damian was alone, going back to his room to take Titus for a walk. He needed to blow off steam. Today had been awful. He needed to move around, be angry and sad and mostly alone, but walking Titus would help, it had to help.

The elevator opened and he began walking down the hall, but stopped when he noticed a figure in the small lobby area. The tall muscular boy leaning against the window, all his focus directed towards something outside. Damian recognized him immediately as Jon Kent.

That was the other thing.

What the hell was going on with the Justice League and the two boys’ fathers.

“You okay Kent?” The boy didn’t turn around at his name. He didn’t even respond. That wasn’t good.

Damian took several steps forward, slowly. He reached out and placed his hand on Jon’s shoulder, the boy didn’t move a muscle. “Jon?” Damian asked, voice a little softer. “Are you alright?”

“Trisha Bailey was killed last night.” His voice was emotionless, and Damian took note that the boy wasn’t wearing his glasses. “It was a hit and run.”

“Trisha Bailey?” The name sounded very familiar but it took Damian a moment to place it, when he did, his stomach dropped. “No.”

“Lex Luthor was released from prison this morning.” Jon’s face grew angrier. “No witness, no crime. Or whatever.” He spat. “Forget the fact that man had mercenaries hired to kill my mother. Forget that he planted bombs to killer. Snipers following her. Hitmen. All so she wouldn’t write a damn article.” His fists clenched against the glass window.

“Jon calm down.” Damian increased the pressure of his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Lex-” The boy’s Jaw clenched. “Lex Jr. stopped returning Conor’s calls. He also left the country late last night.” Jon’s eyes narrowed. “They can’t figure out where he went but they’re trying to track him, unsuccessfully I might add.” Jon turned away from the window and Damian. “God we were so stupid! Conor trusted him!” He banged his fist against the wall, a small dent forming.

“Jon.” Damian’s voice was a tad sterner. “You need to calm down before you break something you can’t fix.”

“What if he comes after my mom again Damian?” The boy turned around, tears in his eyes. “What if he comes after me or Conor or my dad? Kara? Grandma! He could come after any of us!”

“We won’t let him hurt any of you!” Damian tried to assure.

“What about Lena Luthor!?”

Lena Luthor? Damian didn’t know a hefty amount about her, just what was outlined in her file. She was the younger sister of Lex Luthor Senior. Slightly less evil, known for having a conscience, and eventually turned against him. She was in JLA witness protection, had been for eighteen years now.

“What about Lena?” Damian asked.

“They can’t find her Damian.” Jon let out an angry breath, resting his back against the window. “Mr. Queen went to Rome yesterday, that’s where she’s supposed to be. But he can’t find her. People are searching the whole continent of Europe. No one can find her.”

“Okay,” Damian looked to the ground trying to think. “That’s not great but her brother may not know where she is either.”

“Be real Damian.” Jon looked up at him. “I may not be smart, but I’m not dumb. And you aren’t stupid enough to believe that Jr. isn’t cozying up to his aunt right now.” His fist clenched again, Damian could see it smashing into the glass, but thankfully Jon seemed to still have some semblance of control.

“Damian the Luthors have enough kryptonite stock piled away to fuel two nuclear bombs.” The boy’s eyes suddenly looked so empty. “Lena Luthor was the only thing we had on him, along with Trisha. Now we don’t have either, and my family is his number one target.”

“Yeah well, I hate to break this to you but Batman had double that amount of kryptonite.” It was meant as a joke, but as anyone who knew him knew, Damian was bad at those. “Luthor, Luthor isn’t going to be able to pull shit. I’m sure the whole League is working on this as we speak.”

Damian walked in front of his friend, he wasn’t a hugger. Typically he wasn’t one for prolonged contact at all, save for a handful of very specific circumstances, like a warm cuddly sleeping boyfriend. But this was his friend, his perky, never not happy friend who, no matter what, was always there for him.

It was easier than he was expecting to pull the half-kryptonian into a tight hug. “We will figure this out.” Damian whispered. “I swear Jon, I won’t let him hurt you or your family. If there’s one thing that scares the shit out of Luthors, it’s Waynes.” Jon was fully crying now, but Damian could swear he heard something along the lines of a small chuckle escape the boy’s mouth.

“I just don’t know what to do Damian.” Jon’s arms were suddenly around him, tightly hugging him back. “M-my mom, she’s staying with Dinah while Mr. Queen is in Europe. Damian I’m scared.”

“I know.” Damian wasn’t good at this, comforting wasn’t what he was good at. He was good at getting even, at defending people he cared about, at pissing people off and arguing his point. “Do you remember that ridiculous thing you always tell me?”

“N-no.” He sniffled.

“Good always triumphs over evil, right?”

The Kansan let out a stronger laugh. “Right.” He was still crying, but he was still laughing too. “Good always wins.”

“Well we’re good. And they’re evil.” Damian hugged his friend a little tighter. “So that means that everything is going to be fine. Jon I promise.” Even as Damian said the words he couldn’t help the thought that crossed his mind. “Everything will be fine.” Famous last words.

_______________________________________________________________________

(part 1) (part 2) (part 2.5) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 12) - Here (part 13)

Photoshoot Part 4! Y'all I don't know what happened. I sat down to study for finals last night and instead turned on Hamilton and cranked this mess out. Anyway, Dash is finally here and I love him. But he’s also the worst, hence why he isn’t a prominent Character in this fic, but who knows, maybe he’ll show back up at some point. So a lot of what I was excited for at the end of part 11 actually isn't’ in this. It started getting really long so I had to chop it in half. Hopefully part 13 will come just as quickly as this part did. And hopefully I can actually get some studying done before my test tomorrow. I hope you all enjoyed this part as much as I did writing it! Please leave comments! I love reading everyone's thoughts on the chapters, they always make me smile. Like comments, I have discovered, can change my whole outlook on a day. And I could seriously use some positivity heading into my finals! As always if you have any questions about the story or AU feel free to ask, I love getting them and will happily answer any question you got (even if it’s not about this AU)! And if you want to be tagged let me know!

Also for future reference in this fic, the version of Lena Luthor that I am using for my writing is the character Tess Mercer from Smallville.

@graduatedmelon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @bamagirl513 @vixen-uchiha @beaversuenightly @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @todaylillypads @laurakinneylance @vgirl-10123 @wellcrud-blog-blog @silvergold-swirl @crazylittlemunchkin @an-ahez @queencommonsense @ladybug-182 @meganemily231 @driftingmoonlitpetals @kand-roo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @theatreandcomicfreak @paradoxal-occurance @miraculousl4dybug @thanks-captain-obvious @sassydepression @multishipper1needshalp @wegan97 @surprisebishhhhhhhhh @redscarlet95 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @synnesstra @fandomkitty8 @tired-yeetling @saluteswifties @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dast218 @naclychilli @royalchaoticfangirl @panda3506 @nataladriana9 @shreky-boi @my-name-is-michell @dawnwave16 @thethirdwheelfriend @quiet-oracle @heaven428 @dabub167 @kris-pines04 @severelyenchantedwonderland @urbanpineapplefarmer @goblinwhoships

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abbybubbls · 4 years

Text

For Nostalgia (Wilford Warfstache and Darkiplier)

Summary: Dark tries to find Wilford’s pants, but finds something completely different.

--------------------------------------------

“Wilford, I have a very important question for you.”

“Yes?”

“Where the fuck are your pants.”

Wilford was being very indecisive that day. It took him half an hour explaining why he couldn’t find his favorite pants with a bunch of side stories that had absolutely nothing to do with Dark’s question. Or maybe Wilford just didn’t want to wear pants and he wanted his story to sound interesting. It all concluded to him not getting fired, so that’s a… plus?

“Can you tell me why you didn’t want to go without pants today?” Dark asked. Wilford felt offended.

“I just told you, I couldn’t find my favorite pair! What, you don’t believe me?”

Dark put his palms together. “Precisely.”

“I’ve looked through my closet for hours,” Wilford pouted. “None of my other pants fit me, that’s all.”

“You just wanted to go waist-down clothless,” Dark replied flatly.

“Not true!” Wilford exclaimed, pointing down at his feet. “I’m wearing socks!”

At least he’s wearing ‘boxers’ too, Dark thought, trying not to look. But it doesn’t explain why he doesn’t have his real damn pants on.

I am innocent, I swear~ Wilford made a smug face while looking at Dark without his lips moving.

Sure you are.

“Why don’t I look through your closet and find your pants myself, Wilford?” Dark asked out loud.

Wilford’s face flinched, exclaiming “No!” before covering his mouth with his hand. Dark’s face stiffened.

“Why not?”

Wilford cleared his throat and chuckled, waving his hand around his face. “O- Oh, you wouldn’t like my closet, Dark. You wouldn’t like my whole room at all! It gets so messy and everything is everywhere- Oh! And it’s so cramped! We both know how much you hate tight spaces!”

“I was just in your room three days ago, Will,” Dark’s tone lowered. “It was perfectly clean since then.”

Wilford scritched his chin. “Y- You know me, Dark. I see no mess, so I create the mess!”

“And I’ve been in worse situations when it comes to tight spaces,” Dark added. “I’m pretty sure your exit-able closet is more tolerable than a broken-as-all-hell elevator that we never use.”

“When you mean ‘we’, you mean you, cuz you’ve never used it since that incident-”

“I know what I meant.”

Wilford huffed and crossed his arms. “Well, I’ve got some things that are super important in my room! What does it take to not disrespect a man’s privacy around here?”

I’m fairly certain you don’t even know the half of it.

Dark eyed behind Wilford, and spotted the Captain Magnum near Wilford’s gun, that was quite dangerously lying on the counter.

“And who cares if I don’t have pants on?! I’ve run around like a moron without them during an interview before, and nobody seems to remember it!”

Dark pointed over Wilford’s shoulder. “Oh hey, Wilford, look. The Captain is touching your gun without your permission.”

Wilford gasped and gripped at his hair. “WHAT HAPPENED TO COMMON DECENCY?!”

He ran down the hallway with Dark covering the side of his face with his hand. “MAGNUM, DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH MY BABY!!!”

“It’s alive?! ”

Dark smirked, and quickly sent himself inside of Wilford’s room.

(Click keep reading, or read on my AO3!)

Just as Dark suspected, everything in the room was spotless. Only a dozen pieces of sticky notes of doodles and interview questions were scattered all over the floor, but it seemed like they were brushed aside near Wilford’s desk mirror right next to his door. Will’s bed was a mess as well, with the blankets draping over the other and pillows flattened, but Dark thinks he likes sleeping like that anyway. There was also a sparkled up fake fireplace with a rack of colorful suspenders hanging above it as if they’d be stockings, with the red-faded-to-pink pair hanging at the dead center.

I’m sure those all won’t overheat and catch on fire. Sarcasm.

Dark bumped into the closet door, seeing that the frame reaches to the very ceiling of Wilford’s whole room. It’s not like Captain Magnum is ever gonna sneak in, why is it so tall? No matter. Dark opened the closet door, only for an avalanche of clothes to fall right on top of him. Not enough to make him stumble over, for Dark is as sturdy as a boulder.

Dark yanked all the clothes off of him, and saw that MOST of them… were shirts. The clothes that were pants though…! Were either stained, torn up, or just straight up too small. Dark was going to suggest in his head that Wilford could wear his collection of tight shorts like layers, but that’d make him appear too… big.

“Goddammit, Will.”

Dark stepped over the pile of clothes to hesitantly get himself inside of the closet. His head bumps against a light bulb with a pulley-switch next to it. Dark didn’t really need to turn the light on because since he was wearing his new white suit for a change, and he’d practically be glowing more easier that way with his twins’ auras and such.

But just because he can, Dark turned the light on by pulling the switch. The closet was a tiny bit smaller than the elevator he never uses, but at least there’s an escape route. Dark looked around every nook and cranny in the closet to at least find one, one good pair of pants that isn’t too revealing, and so that Wilford would give in to wearing until he finds his ‘most favorite’ pair soon. But if that doesn’t happen, it could be the goldfish situation where Dark buys or makes the same pair, and Wilford wouldn’t even know the difference.

There was a very tall shelf at the end of the closet, and Dark tried to reach up to the top to grab something, any thing… only to have a tan round thing fall off and land on the floor. Dust was flying, enough dust for Dark to almost hack and choke on while coughing it all away. And waving his hand around was definitely helping. “What the hell-?”

As soon as the dust died down to the floor, Dark rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. The helmet rolled on its side for a moment, and wobbled near the wall. It was Wilford’s old old old old old pith helmet.

Dark stared at it for a long minute, knowing perfectly well that Wilford wouldn’t remember having this helmet, not even remember being a colonel.

Dark picked the helmet up from the floor, and gently brushed the dust away. He looked up at the shelf. “He wouldn’t happen to have the rest, would he…?”

A corner of a sleeve was hanging from the very top of the shelf. To avoid the possibility of getting dust all over the place again, Dark put the helmet down on a lower shelf and stood on his tip-toes, and reached up with both of his hands tugging on edges of old linty clothing. His grip on both edges tightened, and he slowly lifted a neatly folded pile of bright tan clothes off the top of the shelf.

“No,” Dark muttered, blinking away dust. “There is no way…”

Indeed, it was 100% Wilford’s old outfit for when he was a colonel from the early 1900’s. Dark already had questions running through his head. How in the world does Wilford still have this? When did he put it in the closet? Why does Wilford still have this outfit after all these years, even when he’s so far gone from who he was?

Dark slowly brushed the grime and lint off of a small, silver winged metal that is still pinned on the coat. Same with a red and white metal on the other side.

Dark had no idea where Will’s red ascot went, it probably faded to pink like his suspenders and turned into the bowtie he still wears to this day. And Will’s glasses were definitely snapped apart, or shattered, or burnt when he realized that even seeing clearly didn’t matter to him anymore. All that is left is the pith helmet, the coat, pants (finally!), and the boots, which were surprisingly very well hidden in the darkness of the bottom shelf. Will shouldn’t have these.

Wilford’s voice from outside of his room gradually got louder, but that didn’t phase Dark at all. He had a few questions to ask. Chances are, Wilford might not know all the answers, but it’s worth a try to ask anyway.

“You may be taller than all of us, but it ain’t gonna phase me, Captain!” Wilford shouted, shaking a fist. “You wanna know why? Cuz Warfstache don’t take no sh(BLEEP!)t from nobody! ”

With a slam of his door, Wilford looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “I should really fix that swear-detector thing.”

“Wilford.”

Wilford hiccuped, seeing Dark standing right in front of him with his hat, boots, and the rest of Will’s outfit in his hands. “Hiiiiiiiii…!”

Dark’s face was frozen in place, stern. “Care to explain to me what these are all about?”

Wilford was grinning nervously. “W- Well, they’re um- they’re winter clothes!”

“We live in Ca-”

“Traveling vacation winter clothes!”

“You know, depending on how much Mark uses us for projects, we’re technically almost always on vacation,” Dark said. “We’ve never traveled once.”

Wilford’s face dropped, and Dark took a step forward.

“So, Wilford,” he continued. “What are these clothes here for?”

“I- I found it in a zoo! I won it for a bet!”

“Wilford.”

“I don’t know!” Wilford exclaimed, throwing fists like a child. “I’ve always had them in my closet! I don’t remember what they’re for, but they give me warm fuzzy feelings, maybe a tiny memory or two.”

“A bad memory or a good memory?”

“I dunno, does it matter that much to you?” Wilford asked. “The good and bad don’t matter to me, cuz they’re useless memories! Memories that’ll come back and disappear from my head like always!”

Dark didn’t know exactly what to say to that. Why would he care about somebody else’s memories and whether they’d be good or bad? It’s like having someone constantly looking over your shoulder. Sure, Dark has been invasive when it came to Wilford being a pain in the ass, but Dark only did it because he didn’t want Wilford to cause any more trouble than he already did.

Wilford pouted with his arms crossed, and looked down at the floor as if he’s been ashamed of himself… for some reason. Dark stared down at the pile of clothes in his hands. His grip tightened, and he sighed.

“I’m sorry, Will,” he muttered. Wilford blinked at him. “I didn’t mean to make this appear as a bigger deal than it should be.”

And all of this started because of pants.

“Have you…” Dark continued. “Worn this outfit lately?”

Wilford’s frustrated and hurt face softened. “Not in a while, no.”

“I was just wondering because of how much dust it was collecting,” Dark’s tone went gentle. “Have you thought about wearing it?”

Wilford’s hands were gripping on his sleeves loosely. “Kind of.”

Silence filled the room. Dark’s hands leaned forward. “Here. You can wear it. If you’d like.”

Without saying anything, Wilford hesitantly held the outfit out of Dark’s hands, and kicked some clothes out of his way as he headed inside his closet. Dark sat down at the edge of Wilford’s bed, waiting patiently.

A moment later, and Dark heard the closet door open. The familiar sound of boots slowly walking on the floor filled the room, and Dark saw Wilford in the entire outfit. He looked the same as he did a long time ago, only the mustache stands out a LOT more now than it did before.

Wilford was still doing the last few buttons of his coat as he left the closet, and Dark just noticed the wearing out on them. The belt around Wilford’s waist was a bit loose, but there was nothing for it to hold anyway.

“How does wearing all of that make you feel?” Dark asked.

Wilford’s hands rubbed all over his arms, and he tucked his face in his collar. “Warm, mostly! Gives me a trip of nostalgia.”

“You know how you said earlier you don’t remember what the outfit was for?” Dark asked, head tilting. “Maybe nostalgia is why.”

The front tip of the pith helmet was hiding Wilford’s eyes, which he did not like. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t remember a whole lot, just a few baby pieces.”

“I see no problem with that,” Dark replied, smiling gently. His watch hidden in his sleeve beeped. “Meeting. Wilford, do you want to go dressed like that?”

Wilford took his helmet off, tossed it on his bed, and ruffled his hair. He and Dark went over to his door. “Why not? It’s cozy and makes me feel good. And I did find pants so you wouldn’t be staring at me all day~”

As Wilford opened the door, Dark smacked his back. “Shut up.”

#markiplier #a heist with markiplier #who killed markiplier #takes place after the 'The Interview' ending #wilford warfstache #darkiplier #darkstache #i've posted this on DA and AO3 #why am i so nervous posting this on tumblr #probably because i'm a noob in this site #oh well

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Somethin’ I’m Good At - Gerry x Reader (Mississippi Grind)

@sufferthesea - Not the one I had in mind, but one none the less ❤

I want to call this a Pre-Sequel to Diligence. Because it is a sequel, but it’s not the one that ‘Reason Why’ is waiting for.

Author’s Note: I remember telling @mandy23b that Brett Eldredge songs were to be earned, but then I went to see him in concert on Friday and this one smacked me in the face. And here we are...!

That isn’t to say Gerry didn’t earn this

Somethin’ I’m Good At - Brett Eldredge

Disclaimer: Mississippi Grind Characters not mine / lyrics not mine / gifs not mine / lyrical liberties taken.

Premise: Having dated for a few months, Gerry knows for sure, there could be one thing he’s good at...

Words: 2056

Warnings: Fluff, mostly.

______

I'm a real bad liar, I'm a burnt toast kinda guy Or if I try to build a fire I'll burn the woods I ain't a mover or a shaker, can't keep up with the pacer Never met a dancefloor that ever did me any good I got a poor sense of direction, sometimes too strong of affection For a whiskey made in Lynchburg, Tennessee If there's a hole in my boat son, you bet that's all she wrote I'm a Titanic sinking down into that deep blue sea I can't change the world, no I can't change a flat If you give me your heart, girl, well, you may never get it back You said you'd never smile again, but oh no, here it comes Would you look at that? I finally found somethin' I'm good at

---

It'd been a few months down the line since your little talk over hot chocolate. When you'd given him your number, and he'd waited two days to call you. When you enquired as to what had taken him so long, he'd simply told you he didn't want to bother you on your day off. And you thought that maybe he hadn't quite grasped the point of you handing your number over.

Gerry still used the cafe like an office. It was well frequented, but had long periods of quiet where - to him at least - there was little difference between this and being in the estate agents. Besides, most of the time he also had you here. And now he knew that all those small looks and gentle smiles were for him. Really for him.

You didn't think you'd been in a relationship quite like it. Gerry was, as his demeanour would suggest, just adorable. You'd thought that before just watching him - but now he got to be yours, and somehow he could up the ante on that. The little I saw this and thought of you - which happened fairly often. Or, if you or he wasn't working or... At least in the cafe on any particular day the I was just thinking about you... messages you'd get on your phone. And each one was sweet - unlike texts along those lines you'd ever got before.

He was cute, and according to a lot of people who had commented more than once, the two of you together we're even cuter.

He liked watching you work sometimes - but also just liked leaving you to it, and he loved when you'd walk passed and just brush gently against him, or lace your fingers just long enough for it to be considered holding hands, until his arm refused to stretch after you or bend back any further. Or on occasion you'd even reach out and run your hands through his hair - and if he was busy concentrating on his laptop that was your favourite time to do it. Gerry longed for those fleeting moments the most, and you liked that sound he emitted and that excitable shiver as his heavily fixed concentration switched from whatever he was reading to the sensation of your fingertips.

Sometimes you'd stop by because he wanted to show you something, and you'd lean your arms on his shoulders and your head on his, and on occasion kiss his hair - and for a moment things didn't get better for him. But you didn't stop by all the time, and he didn't want to hinder your work either. He just liked being surrounded by you. Even if you were super busy and all he got was the scent of your perfume as you ran back and forth between tables. He would still smile absentmindedly and get to think about you.

But, if you ever had a break between the busier and quieter shifts, or you got a full lunch break you still liked sitting with him. Gerry might have told you about the way he hyperfixated on things... How his obsession, and addiction, to gambling had all culminated and been put on... you. But if it was supposed to induce pressure, you never felt it. And he was the only consistently calm thing in the room. You knew he'd slide his laptop and notes to one side and give you his full attention as you told him about your day, or picked his brain for advice. He knew when you came first. If you had an issue, and what hadn't he been through!?, he likely had some kind of solution. He just liked seeing you smile - and being the cause of such a beautiful thing. Gerry knew just when to make the right joke, or be gentle and easy going, or get excited about something... He'd watched you so long he knew your emotions, your expressions... Your body language. That was something he’d picked up from tables that he could be thankful for. Perhaps he knew you better than you knew yourself - and he was only getting more used to it now you were dating. And that obsession meant he wanted to know everything, and help in whatever way he could. You were still responsible for keeping him from tables, after all.

Sometimes he still felt like he was gambling with feelings... It wasn't like Gerry could possibly know where this was going to lead.

Sometimes he'd drop by for a few hours and then leave and come back, the way he used to when you'd have his coffee order ready for him by the time he crossed the parking lot. Only this time the name Gerry was accompanied by a heart, and he got to kiss you over the counter as he picked up the cup and left. ‘See you later’ really meaning that, even if he didn't return to the cafe.

When he did return from his house viewings though, he was always happy, and all he wanted to show you were these houses. And Gerry didn't miss out on one single detail, because sometimes pictures couldn't do any justice to it. You gotta hear about this one, it has the works!! He didn't seem like the type to get so excited about houses - even if he was an estate agent. And, usually, Gerry would agree with you... That was simply what his job happened to be. And he was just pretty good at it. But, he wasn't thinking about the people he was showing around, or even the houses themselves. (Heck, not even the pay check and well it's a job!) But he was thinking about aspects of those houses, and you.

It always came back to you.

What would you like to live in? What sort of house would you walk into and say this is where I want to be. Would it be with him? That's obviously where his thought process was going. But Gerry knew it was far too early to start asking you questions like that - and he kept it quiet. But secretly he'd show you these houses and take note of what you liked. Or, what caught your interest when he described them. If he could build up that perfect picture in his mind - he knew eventually it would come onto the market... Even if it was only close enough; and he'd find it.

Back when you'd first had a real discussion, you'd talked about being therapy for him. But you didn't talk like any therapist he'd ever known. And he thought you were doing better for him than any therapist ever could. And sometimes those conversations got intense - and you took a lot of Gerry's emotions and burdens on for yourself. So he would pull you to him and cuddle you and end up reversing the situation. He was as much a remedy for you.

The end goal was just to see you smile again - he didn't matter what kind or how small - he'd count it as a win if he saw one. Usually it didn't take long, the second you were wrapped in his arms and one of his extensive collection of jumpers, you were almost always good to go.

But today you were having a tough one, and he could tell that the second you sat down. You had this cheerful service front you put on. But Gerry knew all about fronting situations - and yours was a real poker face - so he'd been worried from the moment he'd heard it. Your shoulders slumped and you placed your head in your hands - exhaling loudly. "What's up?" This time he closed the laptop as he slid it across the table - and leant forward on his elbows "Nothing." You looked up at him "It's okay." Well, he knew - or at least from what he'd heard - that it wasn't customers, so it must have been personal. "You know you can tell me anything." He reached for your hands, "And you also know that you won't get passed someone who spent a lot of his life at card tables with a face like that-!" He meant your fake little smile; the only one he wouldn't accept seeing. "I dunno, I don't want to bother you with it." He gave a shrug "You might as well, I'm going to worry anyway." "Well that's really the last thing I want." Your eyes met his, "Me too, so just tell me." "I dunno... Maybe it's all in my head." "Boy trouble?" He raised an eyebrow, and you laughed - and it was score 1 to Gerry because that was genuine. "No, you know, for the first time in my life I actually don't have boy trouble." His smile became playful, "Good - had me worried for maybe half a second..." You ran your hands across the tabletop to his, and let him hold you between his; large hands enveloping yours safely. "I guess… I just… Sometimes I guess, it just feels like my friends would be better off without me… Then there’s times you miss one thing and you just feel totally lost.” You gave a shrug, “I don't think it's conscious - I can't blame 'em. I don’t blame them. But… If you go quiet for a while what happens? Does it show they care if they don't bother you because they are respecting your space? Make you think they don't care if they don't check in? Maybe I'm just fragile. I'm certain some of it's in my head." You looked to him "You ever get that?" Given that his hands were in yours, Gerry tipped his head as he began thinking; "I'm sure everyone wants to give you their 5 cents on it." "For sure, but I'm asking you." "Friends? I ran out of a lot of them a long while ago when I was incredibly bad at paying people back. Enjoy the ones you have. Remove the ones you no longer enjoy. Not worth risking your own health if it keeps happening, huh?" He gave a gentle smile, "Ask me and my... Acquaintances!" You smiled gently; "I'm not so great at forgiveness either..." or maybe you just weren’t good with the right words, sometimes you felt you found them a little too late… "Forgive those worth forgiving. Unless the bridge is well and truly burned… But that’s not my decision to make – is it?" "But what if my reaction-!" His eyes narrowed; "Hey. Who do you think I care about more?" "Me." "You." He nodded in agreement "So, whose side am I always going to be on?" That smile continued to grow as you realised what he was getting at "Mine." "Yours." His smile continued to coax yours out of hiding. "I'm happy to talk it out with you, but I want you to realise that all I'm going to want at the end of it is you happy..." "Well that's all I want for you, too." "Me?" He tipped his head once more, gentle sparkle in his eyes "Whenever I'm with you I'm happy. So, of course..." He chuckled "Yeah. I'm... I'm happy." But then he pushed it right back where it belonged; "Are you?"

There was silence for a moment as you looked between his eyes, and that prolonged smile on his face. That you were just as responsible for as he was the one manifesting on your own. You realised that it was a longer discussion for another time - but you knew that by what he was saying he'd help you as far as he could... But the decision was yours. Still, it was a million-dollar decision, and he'd probably made a billion of those in his life. Probably not always called right, so hopefully he'd help you with the right call. Even if that would be all your own.

"I'm happy." And there it was, a genuine, beautiful, full smile. Almost a beam, but there was a soft blush across your cheeks as you admitted it all out loud. And he knew it wouldn't be long until he got it there.

Gerry wasn't good at much, he knew. But he sure was good at that.

---

@dennismitchell @happyskywhale @wltz-bby @3134045126 #MendoTagSquad.

#I've kept that up.#Minimal dialogue? Linzi what happened-!?#Gerry x Reader #Gerry #Mississippi Grind #tsk tsk I still haven't named her...!#Ben Mendelsohn #111 #HUH-! 111!#Here is the heavily cut edit.#I'll... keep the authors draft version to myself.#Honestly if I didn't promise this I wouldn't be posting.#Softcore version of the original discussion #would hit a little too close.#Suri

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greengargouille · 5 years

Text

AC x ML: Static, Part 1

((So... Do any of you guys remember when, more than one year ago, I posted something about Which Partner, and I mentioned something about an akumatized Mimura? And then I mentioned it here and there and never seemed to publish any actual content about it?

Well, one year, multiple changes on the costume/power idea and a lot of inspiration, I’m... still not done. But since it’s Which Partner’s second birthday, why not publish the first half as a way to mark the occasion? Besides it being a bad idea for editing in details I forgot, I mean.))

The days following a big project always had a special taste to Mimura.

The freed time was great, of course, nobody would argue that. And it was a relief not having to worry about his parents catching him working on that when he pretended to be studying (well, not so much pretending as not correcting them when they assumed it was the case). But, mostly? It was just the satisfaction of a job well done. One step further toward maturing his skills. Sharpening his vision and showing it to the world.

…To think not so long ago, he was still settled on never letting others know about his amateur film productions. The second year of junior high certainly had dampened his enthusiasm over the creative process. If it wasn’t for Korosensei- if it wasn’t for becoming friends with other artists- he might have actually abandoned it all, letting this part of him rot and suffocate till he no longer felt anything toward cinema or directing. Falling into class E might have been what saved him.

Still, nothing Mimura had ever done, even before that year, was comparable to how ambitious he has been this time. With how popular Ladybug and Black Cat were, not just on a town or prefecture level but actual national status due to the moon explosion theories making all of Japan aware of supernatural beings, any project related to them was sure to bring views. For this one-of-a-time opportunity, his work had to be flawless. He had spent days seeking the highest quality videos available on the two superheroes, pondering over and over on the music, the transitions… Even in his first year in the film research club, he never had spent so much time and effort in a single work- not for one of such a short length, at least.

A fake trailer. By using fan footage of the akumatized fights and the TV news interviews of the town’s heroes, with some editing and a voiceover narration, making a pretend video for a movie about the miraculous holders. Especially tricky since he couldn’t go ask said holders to play out a scene for him to film.

Boy did Mimura had felt his heart pound when he posted it online. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep without checking every five minutes if he actually posted the right thing, hadn’t made any glaring error or anything off-putting. And checking the ladybug forum for new messages and seeing the positive reactions… The excitement had kept him awake. Thankfully he posted it on Saturday afternoon and didn’t have to worry about dozing through morning classes.

Still, this Sunday might be free of classes, but not of any event. As a sort of celebration- and partly because Mimura had put his social time aside while he worked-, the artist trio decided to hang out together at the mall and go see a movie. The boy wasn’t too sure about its potential quality, as he had very mixed feelings over the director’s previous works, but it was his first time making a horror story, and he was working with that music composer Mimura liked.

“Hey, you guys! I didn’t make you wait too long?”

It was rare for him to be the last to arrive. Granted, whenever he went to an exhibit with Sugaya, the artist was dragging with him way too much supplies, a supplementary weight he brought ‘just in case’. God, how many times Mimura had to help him carry his stuff as they had to run away from the rain. Thankfully the boy had judged unnecessary to bring anything this time.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Okajima replied while getting up from the bench where he was waiting. “We’ve got largely enough time before the screening. -More importantly,” Sugaya interjected, “congrats for your video! I saw this morning, it was almost at fifty thousand views? -Wow, no way, let me check.” Okajima took his phone and started to type. “Well, there are a lot of people on the Ladyblog forum…” Mimura started to answer, all kinds of excuses rushing into his head. “Right, there was a lot of positive comments, wasn’t it? You deserve it.”

Mimura really didn’t know how to reply to that, and it was even tougher knowing Sugaya was probably sincere and he couldn’t brush it off as politeness. Being praised- having an undisputable achievement- those weren’t things he was used to. Not like this. Not on that.

But it’s not like he could deny he had done something, and that something was successful. How much time one had to wait for the other shoe to drop before having to admit they did a great job?

“…Thank you.” It was hesitant, but it was a start.

Sugaya replied with a smile, one of those soft smiles where he unconsciously tilted his head on the side, which made Mimura finally relax. It was fine. Maybe he did deserve it after all.

“Hm. Guys. You need to check that.”

Okajima turned his phone toward them. A single sentence, white over a dark screen. A single, ordinary sentence, one Mimura had read plenty of times; yet seeing it brought out an uneasy feeling, which increased as Okajima explicated the obvious:

“The video had been taken down.”

“It wasn’t great, but it was entertaining, at least.” Okajima commented before biting on his burger.

Despite the unpleasant news, Mimura had insisted for them to go through what they had planned. After all, they were already close to the shopping mall, and just because he would skip a movie and fast food lunch, his video wouldn’t suddenly magically reappear. He would need to look into the details of it, of course. But, later. No need to rush. It wasn’t urgent. Nothing that mattered.

“I dunno, I feel like I wasted my time. Like, the special effects are clearly the main point of the film, but they felt uninspired.” Sugaya replied while grabbing some fries.

Plus, a movie was distracting, which was welcome at this moment. No need to act before calming down. A great film would have been better, of course, one where Mimura could get immersed and forget all about his current worries as he analyzed it. That’s what he did back when his grades started to drop. It had bordered more on denial then, actually, ignoring the problem till he was too big to ignore, and at that point it was too late. But that wasn’t the case now. Because there was nothing to ignore. Just a silly little problem.

“Yeah, I see what you mean. Instead of showing us the creature, it would have been better to leave it in the dark, it would have been scarier.”

The thing was, Mimura didn’t have the authorization for some of the footage he had used. He had tried to contact whoever he could, all the small intrepid reporters that happened to be on place during an akumatized fight, but he had completely forgotten to check for the TV interviews. It wouldn’t have been a problem most of the time, but maybe, for a more popular video…

“There’s that, of course, but also the music, it was fine but I felt it wasn’t used very well? They should have just cut it at some place. I don’t really know how to explain… What do you think, Mimura?”

Or was it the music? He was pretty sure it was free of rights, was he mistaken? Either way it would be able to remake the video while cutting the faulty element. It was all structured together. He couldn’t correct it.

“…Mimura? -…Sorry, what? I was thinking of something else.”

Sugaya and Okajima shared a look of concern. Oh, that was what Mimura had wanted to avoid. Concern. He wasn’t especially upset- shouldn’t be, over such a trivial matter- but with all the akuma attacks over the town, everyone was a bit on edge over any potential crisis. Still, he was annoyed his friends would think he would break down over something so unimportant. Between the school’s ostracisation, the wall he had constructed between him and his parents, and now the assassination, he had gone through much more stressful. It’s not a little annoyance over a hobby that would change things.

“…Dude,” Okajima said, “if you want to talk, we’re here, okay? -That’s great to know.” Mimura replied in a way he hoped was casual. “But I’m fine. I was just thinking about something else, that’s all.” He immediately switched on an excuse. “My father told me to stop at the convenience store on the way to buy something, but I couldn’t remember what. I think I should try to call him now before I forget. Can you guys watch my stuff? -Sure?”

Mimura got up from his seat and took his phone from his pocket while leaving the table, barely checking to see his classmates’ reactions. Only a phone call. It was normal to go outside- well, outside the restaurant at least, he wasn’t planning to leave the mall- when calling someone.

Right, that won him a few minutes to himself. Couldn’t do more, or that would be suspicious. He still had barely touched his own meal after all.

…Sometimes it was exhausting pretending to be fine. Mimura knew his face showed his emotions easily, and he wasn’t so smooth a liar he wouldn’t slip up if someone asked him directly what was wrong; he was more the kind to redirect the subject before said question came up. All of this… it made him feel resentful against those who were concerned over him, for all the stress that added to him. Couldn’t they just ignore him and leave him sulk? But at the same time, it was his own fault for feeling bad about the situation in the first place. Why did he had to invest so much into something that didn’t matter? Why did he had to bring his hopes up when it couldn’t be any different from usual? He should know by now he wouldn’t get any recognition for his efforts. It was stupid to think otherwise.

Mimura put back his phone in his pocket and felt a piece of paper inside that he took, intrigued. Ah, right, the movie ticket. Stupid movie. So bland and so overdone, so many things that would have been easy to fix- but he didn’t have any right to talk about that as an amateur, did he? God he hated this. Why did some people get so much money to make their movies while he was stuck seeing his videos taken down for some petty authorization- it’s not like he did anything bad with it, it wasn’t a whole song nor a complete footage- why did others got away with making mediocre works and his had to be perfect and it still wasn’t enough, why wasn’t he enough, he hated this, he hated them all, he hated-

No, he had to calm down. It wasn’t the moment. Later, in private. No, not later. Never. Getting over it. He would close his eyes, breath deeply and count to three, and then everything would be fine.

One, two, three.

When Mimura opened his eyes, a dark butterfly just entered his field of vision.

He barely had the time to register it, to see it land on the ticket without being able to react- And then it was sudden clarity. Pure feeling. All parasite thoughts numbed down to barely a whisper.

“Static”, a foreign voice spoke into his mind- and the name felt so fitting, somehow, “I am Kochou. I can give you the power to get revenge over the unfair treatment your videos have been given. I only ask for one thing in return. -The ladybug and cat miraculous.” Mimura- no, Static- completed, a smile on his lips.

Sentences popped into his mind, distant, the shadow of a thought process. ‘Bad idea’. ‘What will others think of you?’ But, already, those words dissolved into the resolute feeling that had taken him.

“I accept with pleasure, Kochou-sama.”

Okajima looked at the entrance, his fingers tapping on the table as he waited. Not necessarily for Mimura’s return, but… something. A form of acknowledgement on how the situation was wrong.

Okajima thought of himself as an honest man. If he liked something, he had no problem saying it, even knowing his opinion was unpopular. If he disliked something, he would complain about it with all the frustration and anger he felt- even when his classmates thought he was overreacting. He was just that kind of person. True manliness was to be totally shameless no matter the topic. That’s why dishonest situations like this one didn’t sit well with him.

“Say”, he addressed Sugaya who seemed absent-minded, “what do you think we should do? -Walk around in the mall? There’s a clothing shop I would like to see. -Not what should we do after eating,” Okajima corrected with annoyance, “about Mimura. He’s clearly not taking the video thing well, despite how he refuses to admit it. -Oh.” His classmate just replied with a small sound. “So I wasn’t just imagining things then. -Well, yeah, that was very obvious. I kinda want to force him to talk just for that, but he might just close up even more and we will go nowhere. Plus, you know. That might just add even more negative feelings to the pile.”

Sugaya stayed silent, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. His fingers idly played with his straw, twisting it as he seemed lost in thought.

“I don’t know what to do.” He finally admitted. “Neither do I,” Okajima replied, “but you know Mimura better than me. Plus, you’ve been akumatized already, so you should know how he feels. -That’s… I don’t think it can apply. I mean, I wanted to be left alone, but look at what that did for me. Do you really think Mimura could be akumatized over this? -Eh, dunno. Honestly I feel like bad luck is also at play, but it’s not like you can tell how important something is to someone, even if it seems silly. A man’s passion should never be ridiculed,” Okajima added on a serious tone. “…Wow, that would sound so cool if it wasn’t from you. -Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? -…If Mimura feel bad over this, then I want to help.” Sugaya totally ignored Okajima’s last comment. “But I never had this problem before? Like, with Chiba I trusted him to come to me if he felt like I could help him with something? -Dude, no offense but Chiba ended in class E with us and neither of us saw it coming. -Well, I did say something I could help him with, not sure what I could have done.” Sugaya sighed. “You’re not totally wrong though, I felt bad about it. -What about the other guys then? Didn’t you hang out with people of the art club sometimes? -Them? I… am not sure they counted as friends? Like, in the first place it always was way more casual, and it soured up quickly anyways. Because I’m ‘too much of a troublemaker’. -Oh, yeah, so they were this kind of guys, uh? I know what you mean. -…So, yeah, I don’t have much experience dealing with this. I want to help and I feel like there’s something I could do, but nobody is telling me what. It’s frustrating.”

Okajima wasn’t sure either what it was that they could do, but fortunately the noise of a door brutally closed and a scream stopped the conversation before he had to reply.

“AKUMA ATTACK!!”

He turned his head toward the entry door, that an alarmed woman was closing, clearly terrified by what she saw outside.

“An akuma… Shit, Mimura’s still outside. -What, do you think he…?” Sugaya didn’t dare finish his sentence. “I don’t know if it’s him, but if it isn’t then he’s in first line to be attacked. -Crap, you’re right.”

People around them were starting to panic, some already diving under the tables, other running towards the kitchens, probably hoping to find a back door. Honestly, Okajima was tempted to follow them. He didn’t know what super villain would appear, but it certainly wasn’t going to be a fun experience.

…But, he already had made his decision.

“Let’s go,” he said to Sugaya, walking towards the entrance.

Hayami had to pull her nails into the palm of her hand to keep her face calm.

In front of her, on the other side of the small plastic table, Nakamura was currently playing with her nesoberi plushie’s pigtails. A Ladybug nesoberi. She wasn’t sure what was flustering her most, that her friend was so fond of her new acquisition, or the fact that it was sold at all.

“It’s obvious,” Nakamura explained, ignorant of the girl’s inner turmoil, “if you have the blueprints and material to make nesoberi in a factory, then you’re not going to stop at fifteen. Probably, the collab with the arcade was to see how popular they would get. Man, I kinda want to see what kind of face the fans who spent so much on the game will pull learning they could just have waited a few months instead, it will probably be hilarious. -You don’t say”, Hayami replied, impassive.

How would Nakamura react if she knew Hayami was such a fan. She would probably be too busy harassing me over how I’m a Black Cat fan. The endless teasing… Thankfully she was good at keeping a cool appearance.

At first, when the two of them had planned an afternoon at the mall together, she had thought it would just be a relaxing moment between friends. Some shopping, maybe a movie, trying out the new purikuma booth, checking out from afar that children live stage performance the mall was organizing- she vaguely remembered Chiba mentioning accompanying his sisters to see it sometimes, and it had intrigued her- just silly fun activities two teenage girls would do on their weekend. To be perfectly honest, Hayami would have tried to include some homework into that schedule, but Nakamura had loudly complained about it, and with Tikki insisting so much lately about all the work she did, she hadn’t pressed further.

She would have never expected they would end up facing a shop window full of Ladybug and Black Cat themed goodies. It kind of baffled her sometimes, how popular was her other identity. She and her partner were just a pair of local heroes doing their job. Maybe it was the magic? Of course people would be all over something that proved the existence of the supernatural. She had seen some topics speculating on the subject on the Ladyblog, but she might have underestimated their importance. Usually people ask us more about our relationship… Well, revealing anything about the Miraculouses to the public would be a big no-no, even more than some hints about their true identities, so it made sense that interviews gave up on that.

Still, Black Cat goodies… She would have to come back there, maybe with a disguise. And to think they would end up selling that nesoberi plush… Would she have tried to win one if she knew the exclusivity would only last for a few months? Probably.

God, I really fell hard for him.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” Nakamura grinned with a face full of mischief. “Can you take a photo with my phone? I’m going to kiss my Ladybug and send it to Okajima. -Wh- I- Don’t do that!”

Seeing her friend’s surprise, Hayami knew she made a mistake. It was uncommon for her to get excited over something, and she had tried to keep her composure the whole conversation. But, how could she stay cool over this. The idea of Nakamura kissing Ladybug- it’s not like she talked about some distant celebrity after all. And then thinking that Okajima could do the same… Now that was giving her chills.

“My, my, seems like someone is jealous.” Nakamura playfully reacted by swinging her nesoberi in front of Hayami. “Do you want to steal a kiss? I’m willing to share~ -That’s not the problem.” Hayami replied as calmly as she could. “Oh, so perhaps you want to kiss m- -It’s unhygienic,” Hayami interrupted her, knowing very well how her friend would twist her words if she let her speak, “and you’re going to give him bad ideas. -Eh, I’m probably not the first. Heck, I bet someone among those who got the first fifteen have done it at some point.”

Hayami immediately thought about the Black Cat nesoberi in her room, and had to focus back on the conversation before having any weird ideas. She was too mature for that. She couldn’t- No, she should think of something else. Plenty of people might have kissed my effigy at some point. Yep, that sure calmed her. Oh, how she wished she never had this conversation. Popularity was terrifying sometimes.

“Akuma alert.” A voice resonated through the speakers of the mall, interrupting the girl’s inner troubles. “Our customers are invited to go walk to the nearest exit. No need to panic. We repeat- -Urg.” Nakamura’s face soured. “Goodbye, relaxing afternoon. Let’s go before we get caught up in the crowd. -I…” Hayami started to speak, while her mind was getting into a highly alert mode. She needed an excuse “We didn’t pay for our drinks, go ahead while I do it, I won’t take long. -What? Hayami, you can’t be seri- -It’s important! No need to argue, we’re only losing time. Trust me, I will leave right after. -Geez, why do you have to be serious like that… Alright, but only if you go along with me the next time I get a fun idea. -Accepted.” Hayami was certain she would regret it. “See you in a few minutes.”

She didn’t wait for an answer and went right into the shop, straight to the bathroom, while getting pushed on the way by intrigued people trying to leave. Thankfully the stall was empty; she opened her bag, from which flew a very familiar red creature.

“It’s too bad,” Tikki lamented, “you finally had a day to relax… -No need to feel bad about it. Tikki, spots on.”

The familiar surge of power filled her body as her clothes changed for her more practical hero suit. Time to get into Ladybug mode. It wasn’t complicated, honestly. The focus, her shifting perception, the strength that filled her muscles, everything contributed to her feeling like an entirely different person. Maybe the glamour supposed to make her unrecognisable played a part too.

Still, I need to play it safe. She counted the seconds in her head, and when she felt she had waited long enough, left the shop’s bathroom. Nobody was there anymore. Good. She didn’t have time to think of excuses for anyone who might have seen the young girl enter- she had an akuma to deal with.

Ladybug walked around the mall, ready to react to any upcoming attack and directing any civilian she saw toward the exit, when she finally spotted an unnatural thing. In front of her stood a giant foggy pile of inconsistent color, minuscule spots of black, white and grey all mixed together; it kinda reminded her of TV static, in a way. The pile, if that was the right word for an accumulation without a specific form, didn’t seem to have any weight to it, as if it was superposed to the air rather than a solid mass, but she knew better than to touch it to verify. Who knew what it did.

She saw a black silhouette move from the corner of her vision, and, sure enough, when she turned her head her partner jumped to her side.

“Good afternoon to you,” Black Cat greeted her, then immediately switched to the main topic. “Any information on our villain of the day? -No, I just arrived.” Ladybug informed him, hesitating to say anything more, then decided she was silly for doubting her every word. “I’m glad you could come. I was wondering if you would be able to show up before the fight. -Yeah, I wasn’t sure I would be on time either,” admitted her partner. “I was nearby, but surrounded by… well, it’s not important.”

Ladybug looked at him, but said nothing. Civilians, friends, family… Many ways to end the sentence, and none that mattered. They couldn’t talk about their true identity.

“What do we do with this?” She pointed toward the foggy obstacle with a move from her head. “Good question.”

Black Cat looked around, his eyes settling on a deserted chair from some shop on the side. Ladybug already understood what he was thinking about, and didn’t feel any surprise when he walked toward it only to throw it into the fog.

“Doesn’t seems solid, but I didn’t hear anything hit the floor. -Try to see with another chair what happens if you only put one partially? -That was the next step of my experience, yes.” Black Cat smiled at her.

Despite the situation, Ladybug couldn’t help but feel her heart warm up at the boy’s soft face. They might be in potential danger at any point, but at least she got him by her side, and he seemed to appreciate them thinking alike as much as she did. Well, maybe not as much, but at least a little? It sure made things easier for both of them.

“Hmm, it doesn’t seem to melt.” The second chair, that Black Cat put partially in the fog, still was intact when they pulled it away. “I guess it’s like smoke? Let me try putting my hand in it.” He looked at Ladybug for approval. “…It might not be safe. -All the more reason that I do it rather than you. Plus, you can always heal me afterward. -…That’s not wrong, but…” She would rather not see him get hurt, of course. Surely he could understand that? “Don’t worry, it’s just a test.” He put his left hand in the fog- it would only be silly to risk his ring hand, after all- and took it out. “See? Nothing happened. Actually, I didn’t even feel any pressure or change. It might be safe to walk in. -Even if it’s some kind of gas, it might be toxic.” Hopefully no civilian was caught in the middle of it. “Hmm.” The boy nodded, his green eyes still on the fog. “Only one way to know.”

Black Cat took a step forward, and soon his head disappeared in the smoky thing. Ladybug was uneasy about this- her partner always was the one who took risks in those situations. It was logical, of course, she was the one with the power to fix everything, and so had to be the last standing at the end, but… she didn’t have to like it. What did the boy think about it? Was he secretly resenting her for this? This didn’t seem in his personality, yet it was still a possibility.

I wonder how the previous Ladybugs felt about it.

Multiple times her and Tikki had spoken about the precedent heroes. Their powers, their strategies, their allies; most notably, how they still found time to relax and have fun. But as for their feelings… It was a subject Hayami didn’t want to bring up. Even if they were different people, it would break her heart to hear they didn’t get along with their partner. What if it was the case, and Black Cat heard about it from his own kwami? Would he assume she was the same? Even though I love him. No, it wasn’t even that. She cared about him. More than her crush, he was the partner she had come to rely on. Anyone could feel attracted to him, but their bond was special, important, in a way that would be hard to explain. If he told her he loved her, but couldn’t trust her… that would be just as terrible as the opposite.

The boy eventually got his head out of the fog, his face expecting something.

“…So?” Ladybug asked, unsure what he was waiting for. “…Didn’t you hear me? -No? Did you say something? -Yes? That’s weird. I can breathe inside just fine, but I can’t see anything. Or hear, now that I think about it. And I guess you couldn’t hear me either? Wait, let me check again.”

Once again the hero’s head disappeared in the fog. Did that thing block all light and sound? That would be inconvenient. What if the akumatized was waiting for them insi-

“Ladybug, behind you!!!”

It was only thanks to her quick reflexes she was able to react immediately. Her full body rotated, her hand in a fist ready to hit, but the person quickly jumped out of the way, a jump too big for a normal civilian. An akumatized. The villain made no sound when his feet hit the floor, which was, as Ladybug suddenly noticed, covered in the same foggy substance as the one behind her. So that’s how they were able to approach without me noticing, this removed the sound of their steps.

She looked around quickly on what was the source of the voice that alerted her. A very familiar voice… Barely hidden behind a pillar, she apperceived Fuwa and sighed internally. The girl had said she wanted to start investigating for the Ladyblog, and nothing Hayami had said had been able to convince her it was a bad idea.

She gently tapped Black Cat’s arm to alert him of the change in situation, as he probably hadn’t been able to hear anything, but her eyes were fixated on the villain, who didn’t move from his spot. Which was for the best, as they were closer to Fuwa if they had wanted to take her hostage.

The most noticeable thing in the akumatized’s appearance, the one that immediately popped out, was the giant color bars on the chest area of the suit. Like a malfunctioning TV, Ladybug thought despite never having seen the phenomena -it was a thing of movies, on older televisions. The rest of the costume, on the opposite, was all monochrome, mostly grey with little square spots of black and white, white the extremities of the limbs were all black.

When she finally looked at their- at his face, Ladybug finally recognized who was her adversary. No way she couldn’t- they might not talk on a regular basis, but Mimura was a classmate, and he sat next to Nakamura in class, so the both of them sometimes spoke while she was around.

“Another class E student,” Black Cat commented next to her. So he recognised him? Uh. He must have a good memory. “Right, it’s as if alienating and bullying a specific group made them more likely to have negative emotions.” Ladybug deadpanned as an answer. “…Seems like you feel a lot about this, uh?” Her partner replied in a sympathetic tone. “I just don’t like their school’s system.”

She couldn’t allow herself to say more. She couldn’t make it personal. Even just mentioning she was part of that school, no matter the class, would be too revealing. So Ladybug bit her lips and did what she had always done when she felt helpless about a situation: focus on the work she could do instead.

“Show’s over, you guys.” Mimura spoke to them in a harsh tone. “Hand over your Miraculous. -…Why do akumatized even ask this? Of course we won’t give them to you. -Maybe they expect us to make a special offer if they insist enough.” Black Cat joked. “’Congratulations, you’re the 100th akumatized, here’s a special prize for you!’”

Ladybug would have rolled her eyes for joking in this situation if this was anyone else, but she couldn’t help have a little smile instead. It was part of her partner’s charm to make silly jokes and puns in a serious moment. Their current adversary didn’t seem to appreciate it, though; he seemed ready to attack, whatever that would mean for him. Did he have another power besides that weird static-like fog? It was hard sometimes to tell with akumatized what skill sets did they have.

“I know where the akuma’s hidden in!” Fuwa shouted, momentarily distracting Ladybug. “It’s in his l-“

Before she finished her sentence, Mimura jumped on the heroes, filling the space between them with the static-like substance from earlier.

Then, only darkness and silence.

#long post #assassination classroom #assclass #ac x ml #gargouille writes #...Should I tag this as 'Which Partner'?#I mean. This is a fanfic of a fanfic #wouldn't that be confusing #Anyways. Congrats on the two years for WP

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mosylufanfic · 5 years

Text

Me and My Shadow

I was digging around in my files, as I am wont to do, and I found this story from last season, about 95% finished. Remember when they basically had no scenes at all together? And we were all starving for any little bit of Killervibe we could get? This is something of what I wanted to see after S4′s mid-season finale.

Just as a refresher, this takes place toward the end of the episode where Amunet Black kidnapped Caitlin, locked dampening cuffs on her. Before that happened, however, Caitlin discovered that Cisco, Harry, and Ralph all had private jokes and funny stories about hanging out with Killer Frost.

This story isn’t overtly romantic but it is about Cisco and Caitlin’s relationship at that point in the show. Title from the 1927 song, sung by oh so many people.

Me and My Shadow

Cisco peered at the power dampener Amunet Black had fastened around Caitlin's wrist. "Who designed this, the Incredible Hulk?" He tapped it. "Could it get any bigger and clunkier? Ugh. I'm so offended."

"Me, too, considering it held me prisoner," Caitlin said dryly. She waved her wrist a little, inviting him to look at the catch. It was a heavy-duty metal latch with wires woven over it in some way he couldn't quite follow. "Can we remove this, please?"

"Oh, yeah." He opened the toolkit he'd brought upstairs from his lab and pulled out some wire snips and an electric saw.

"Careful!" she said.

He paused. "It's not gonna blow up if I don't snip the right wire, is it?"

She angled her wrist. "No, but it's got spikes on the inside. It's part of the function somehow."

Now he could see them, thin metal needles piercing her flesh. A few dots of blood smeared her skin.

"Shit!" He yanked his hand away. All his poking and prodding must have been digging them in even further. Why the hell hadn't she said anything before this?

Probably the same reason she'd waited to ask him to remove it until after Dominic Lanse had been taken to a hospital and thoroughly checked over. Caitlin putting herself last again.

Another thought occurred. "Oh, fuck, it's not stabbing your veins or anything, is it?"

She touched the inside of her wrist. "No, it's just the top and sides."

"Well, that was nice of her," he said sarcastically, and got to work on the catch. The design might offend every aesthetic bone in his body, but it was doing the job very well. He could feel his own powers going a little fuzzy and wobbly, this close to it. And it also seemed to have solved the power issue he'd struggled with so much. He was going to have a look at this when he got it off her wrist.

She was quiet while he worked, and while he normally would have chattered and joked, all his lightness seemed like it was trapped underneath a boulder in the pit of his stomach.

Yelling at Ralph had helped some, but he still felt like a turd. Sure, Caitlin, the nasty, mean alter ego that you never wanted is our favorite new buddy. Yeah, we have a great time with her! We have inside jokes and everything!

He knew she knew he hadn't meant it like that. But just because he hadn't meant it didn't mean it hadn't hurt her. He remembered the look in her eyes.

And Harry had gone to apologize first. Harry! When Harry I-Can-Only-Relate-to-Other-Versions-of-Myself Wells was doing better at friending than you, that was kind of a bad sign.

He'd come for her. He'd rescued her from Amunet Black. She had to know he valued her more than Killer Frost. Right?

Yeah, he'd come for her, but so had fucking Ralph.

He glanced up, wondering how to start saying he was sorry, and found her staring off into space, looking thoughtful.

"Hey," he said, and her eyes came back around. They looked like root beer in this light, the way he liked them best. He smiled at her. "What's churning your butter, cup?"

"Just thinking how nice it was to handle something on my own for once, instead of having to depend on my mean roommate."

His stomach dropped. "Caitlin - "

She looked at her wrist. "Maybe you should leave this on."

"Leave on the spiky hurty ugly accessory? That's a hard no," he said, and snipped one last wire. "Lay your hand down and keep vewwy vewwy still," he added in his best Elmer Fudd imitation.

She smiled absently and flattened her palm to her lab table. He turned on the circular saw and started cutting through the lock. It was tough stuff, and he had to stop a couple of times to switch out the blade. Finally, the bracelet cracked in two, and he switched off the saw before it brushed her skin.

She pulled the cuff open, wincing as the spikes tugged out of her flesh, and let it clatter to the table. Now she wore a cuff of tiny pinpricks, welling with blood. It wasn't a good look, in Cisco's opinion.

"Mmm," she said, grimacing at the injuries. "I'd better get this cleaned up and bandaged." She rummaged in some drawers.

"Frost up," he suggested before he thought, and felt his stomach drop again. God. He'd stepped in it again. "Just - just to get rid of that," he added quickly. "Let her hypermetabolism take care of it."

"It's fine," she said, not looking at him as she wiped each pinprick down with a sterile wipe. "It's good. You should get along with people who are fighting alongside you." She tossed a used one, pink with blood, into the biohazard bin and pulled another one from the dispenser.

"Look, don't pretend we didn't hurt your feelings."

"They're my feelings," she said. "I'll handle them."

"Yeah, that's a skill you excel at."

She gave him a withering look. "I had a bad evening. I got over it."

"Okay, then how about letting me apologize?"

"You have nothing to apologize for. You can have friends other than me. You do have friends other than me. It's selfish and self-centered to be jealous of that."

She recited it as if it was something she'd said to herself over and over again.

"It's human to feel left out," he said. "And I was part of making you feel left out, and I'm really sorry for that."

"Yes, and I handled it." She bowed her head over her wrist, dabbing antiseptic cream on the marks. "Thanks for getting that cuff off me. You should probably clean it." She handed him a container of Q-tips and a bottle of ethanol.

He took them back to the table where the cuff still sat, dark and powerless now. He started cleaning the spikes, watching the white cotton soak up pink blood. He found he was gritting his teeth.

Why wouldn't she smile and accept his apology?

Why wouldn't she just let him feel better about seeming to prefer her darker side?

Why couldn't he just go back to thinking that she'd made peace with Killer Frost, now that she wasn't one of the bad guys, and didn't have any feelings about her divided self whatsoever?

Just like he was perfectly fine with the thought of Reverb, or any of his other evil doppelgangers that infested the multiverse. Oh yeah. No misgivings there at all.

He let out his breath and tossed the Q-tip down.

"You know," he said, "eight months ago, you never would have convinced me that there could be anything I liked about Killer Frost, but I do."

Caitlin looked up, but didn't say anything. She just watched him, silent, her face flat and expressionless.

"She's tough. A survivor. A fighter. She sees what needs to be done and gets it done. She's smart and she thinks on her feet. Every time she throws down, I swear she has three or four nifty new tricks that never even crossed my mind."

"Okay," she said. "I get it. You don't have to keep singing her praises."

He went to her and took her tight shoulders in his. "And you know what? Everything I like best about her is something she gets from you."

Her eyes met his. They were darker now.

"Tough. Smart. Creative. Gets the job done. Sound familiar?"

"A fighter, though?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not a fighter. I run and I hide," she said bitterly. "Just like Harry told me to do at Jitters. I didn't even try and bring her out until I was cornered, and that didn't work."

"Have you ever once run and hid when someone needed medical help?"

"That's different."

"I dunno if it is. That's your wheelhouse. Kicking ass is Frost's. Use the right tool for the right purpose. Killer Frost isn't always the right choice for what needs to get done."

She was quiet for a long moment. "Amunet Black said something like that."

He recoiled. "She did?"

Caitlin shrugged. "She wanted me to get the job done. She probably could have threatened me some more, but she took the logic route and pointed out why she needed me, not Frost. It worked. I got the job done."

Okay. He officially sucked as a friend. Amunet Black had figured out what Caitlin needed to hear before he had. That she, Caitlin, was valuable and valued, that her skills weren't lesser, that she was strong and effective in her own way.

He tried to make his voice light. "Much as I hate to agree with someone with that dated of a hairstyle, she had a point. We couldn't do what we do without you."

Her eyes searched his and then she sighed. Not a resigned sigh or an unhappy one. There was relief in it. As if she was letting out a breath she'd held for too long.

Then she hugged him, hard and quick. "Thank you," she said.

"Anytime," he said. "Really, I mean it. Anytime you're feeling conflicted over your morally ambiguous doppelganger, talk to me."

"It's not her state of evil or good," she said thoughtfully. "I mean, obviously I would rather she's fighting against the bad guys rather than alongside them. But it's - " She rubbed her wrists again. "It was easier when she was the bad one and I was the good one, and I had good things - like friends - and she didn't."

"I don't think either of you are that simple," he said. "I don't think anything's that simple."

She toyed with the q-tips. "The thing is," she said, brows drawn together, "I've spent my entire life trying not to show it when I'm scared, or angry, or upset, or even just sad."

"That's not news," he pointed out. He still remembered nearly a year of her flat, expressionless face after the explosion.

"Because nobody has time for that," she went on. "You know? Nobody wants to put up with that. People like a cheerful, helpful, smart little girl. Nobody likes a crybaby who can't do anything."

One day, Cisco reflected, he really was going to go find Mama Snow and punch her in the mouth. He didn't like hitting women, even the ones that hit him first, but boy, could he make an exception.

"So I tried to be cheerful and helpful and smart, and if I couldn't manage to fake any of those, I could at least push down all the bad feelings and show nothing. Until last year. I stopped being able to push things down. And in a way, it made sense that when I lost control of all my rage and my fear, that I lost you. All of you. Because that's what you get. Nobody wants you if you're like that."

He opened his mouth.

She aimed him a look. "And yes, Cisco, I know that I lost all of you because she joined forces with Savitar and was instrumental in H.R.s death and Iris's attempted murder. I understand that. I'm not stupid."

He had been going to say, she'd lost them because she'd left, but that was a fair point, too. "As long as you get there's a difference."

"I do," she said. "On a logical level. But when I realized that she was coming back, I tried to run, because I couldn't bear to lose you all again like that."

He refrained from pointing out that she would have lost them anyway.

"And then I didn't," she said. "And then I realized that you actually liked her. You have jokes together, you like fighting alongside her, Ralph thinks she's sexy. "

"Ralph tried to hit on a lamppost the other day," he pointed out. "Just saying."

"And in that case, what's the point? What's my reward for fighting down the worst parts of myself, if it isn't to keep my friends?"

"Look," he said, taking her hands. "You're going to have to figure that out yourself. I think the past year has shown that no outside influence is going to work to get a handle on Killer Frost. Power-dampening cuffs, solar necklaces, whatever it was that Black gave you - none of that, on its own, is ever going to be a permanent solution. You've got to get a handle on her yourself, for yourself, because it's the best thing for you. But while you're doing that, here's something I think you should keep in mind."

"What?"

"We like you," he said. "We like you when you're being smart and cheerful and helpful, yeah. But we also like you when you're snarly and mean, or sad, or upset. I like you. You don’t have be perfect to be our friend. You just have to be you." He waved at her up and down, trying to encompass her entirety. "Everything you are."

She swallowed hard. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he said, starting to go back to the dampener cuff. He paused. "By the way, your mom is wrong."

She looked up. "My mom?"

"Yeah. When she told you all that stuff about how nobody likes little girls who aren't sweet and nice all the time."

"Oh, Cisco, My mom didn't tell me that."

He blinked. "Who did, then?"

She shook her head, smiling at him a little. "Nobody had to tell me. All little girls know that."

"Well, they're wrong," he said.

She tilted her head. The smile got sharper; colder. "Are they?"

FINIS

#Cisco Ramon #Caitlin Snow #killervibe #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #Caitlin has a lot of feelings about KF #I do too #the flash

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beexle · 3 years

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why was no one home, someone should have been home it wouldve been so much better, i csnt prove this rabbits real, i cant prove mums real either but humans always bring it back

this was the second dream ive ever had about dying. the first was when i was younger than ten and it was from snakebite when i was down in a grove under a willow tree. i dreamt that afterwards i went to this white classroom type place with lots and lots of other sad children but who had given up. we were to learn from god in these tiny desks but i didnt and i begged him and pleaded to be able to see mum again and he said yes begrudgingly. but when i did see mum she couldnt see or hear me or feel me. and i clung to her and cried snd told her i was so sorry but she couldnt hear me and she just sobbed.

this time it was at this kind of retirement village/caravan park and me and jae and a bunch of her friends were staying there. mum and dad were also there, but in a different house and younger and different looking with the same personalities. and mum had had twins. i wanted so desperately to look after the twins so desperately and i did get to hold one breifly. it was so nice to look after a baby and he was so smart too. we did the tipping upside down thing and he loved it and then he vommed a little bit, and instead of wiping it i leaned over and he just spat it out. we were also painting at some point and he knew what to do with brushes even tho he was Baby. but the cousins were there too and i got just such a distinct radiance of hatred from them and they did Not want me to be there.

so i left and then along the way my more real mum wanted me to explain being nonbinary to this hippy and another like religious guy and they didnt really care they just wanted to snicker at me, which didnt feel great. went to where jae was and at first it was just bella she was staying with. and then it was bella and bellas boyfriend, who was that like dick from some tv show or other. way too cocky and fake friendly and mean. i feel like there was some kind of softer meeting in between but the next thing i remember is him getting jae to do something for him- ohh it was from feel good. and at some point bella turned into the terrible straight girl who was his girlfriend. but anyway jae was like tying something for him and he was facing straight towards her and apparently his dick was really hard abd pointing at her and it made me so ugly twisting jealous and so i tried to lay my head in her lap and she sighed but also did a bit of the soft 'youre cute' smile at me but the dude made a disgruntled noise cos id made him soft. so he turned to his girlfriend and started fucking her but i felt bad and moved away from jae and she started fucking herself with two dildos and i felt so sad and out of place and there were people and children from all over the campsite just staring. so i ran. and i ran so well, i jumped over like whole sets of stairs and i climbed piles and piles of empty plastic containers bigger than me. and i dunno if it was relavant but id know that i knew how to do it because evie had done it in the past while i was chasing her. there were like cracks behind walls and really tall buildings and seriously it was impressive. i jumped garden beds and ducked under shrubs and i knew they were chasing me. eventually i got to this plastic kids playground and i hid down the middle of the slide like you can if you put your feet up. the people had a black van and they surrounded me exept it was meant to be jae and the not-bella and her boyfriend but it was a bunch of dudes wearing black and the main one was this asian guy who knew to leave me alone and just make sure i wasnt alone. it felt a bit gratifying that they were there but it wasnt jae and i really wanted to be alone.

so i ran again, and this time behind houses so they couldnt get the car there and i found this cliff, very deserted, a part of the place i hadnt been before, and it had three ladders maybe, a wooden one, a rope bridge only attached on one side so it just dangled down the cliff and like a paddlepop stick thing. i took the wooden ladder and i did the cool slidey thing that firemen do, slowing myself down every now and then. it had pretty ivy all over it and looked out over this wide valley full of trees and i was starting to feel better. there was even like this castle halfway down the cliff i was gonna try to get to. i slid to the end of the ladder and by chance stopped myself on the last rung. the ladder was finished but there was still more than half the cliff left. the castle was above me though, so i tried to switch from my ladder to the one attached to the castle but you know the thing ladders do when there arent knots in the rope? where the wood just slides doen if you try to climb? well it was doing that and i couldnt switch and i was getting tired and i decided to just see what happened. i knew id die but i didnt tell myself that i said if i live i live if i die i die. and so i fell and it felt free and all the things ive imagined it might. and then numb. and then like i was waking up and i thought i might be in a coma but i wasnt. i was dead and i remembered that my great aunt or another mum had died from eating too much sugar and it had felt like this. i wound up at a bar where the people in black who had been chasing me were and it turned out they were dead (does that mean i was already seeing dead people before i died?) they had been dead for a while they knew how it worked. apparently to stay in this world you had to consume stuff from it so the asian guy was drinking a blue cocktail. i found jae and held her and said i was sorry because i really really had wanted to spend my life with her. i said it was the second worst thing i regretted, meaning noah first. no one else could see me and i didnt really care about them just her. annnnd i was crying and sad and didnt want to be dead and then i woke up.

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setoangel01-fanfiction · 6 years

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Beautiful Disaster

Beautiful Disaster - Chapter 8 (Previous Chapters)

Rated: T

Chapter Summary: After Johnny's long horrific night and near death-experience, Ash comes up with a plan that may be beneficial to them both…but will he accept her offer?

Fanfiction.net

A03

It was at least an hour before Johnny stirred.

Ash's hands still dragging in soft strokes across his slack face but the second he began stirring, she immediately stopped. Deciding instead to pick up the rag she discarded earlier and pretend she was still just cooling down the swelling even if the rag had already gotten much warmer with the passage of time.

Tired blue eyes met his half-lidded chestnut gaze that peeked out from behind gray (and for his right eye - purplish blue) lids. Johnny blinked a few times as if mentally evaluating where he was before licking his lips with a throaty groan - yeah, not the best idea to lick a swollen, bloody lip.

"...Ash?" he asked, accent heavy and thick with the clinging of sleep.

"Yeah," she reassured with a gentle paw stroke across his brow ridges. "It's me."

"Ugh…" Johnny grunted, arm lifting lazily before he placed a large hand upon his throbbing forehead. "'ow long was I sleepin'?"

"Not long." she answered truthfully, "Maybe an hour or two - couldn't tell ya exactly."

"W-Why didn't you just put my head down? That can't be comfortable for your legs." his genuine care shocked her at times. Here he was broken and bruised in so many parts of his body but yet he found himself worrying about her legs being uncomfortable of all things.

"I didn't want to risk waking you up." she shrugged, voice soft as she ran the damp rag across his eyes to rid him of the bit of crust that formed from his short nap. "If you're anything like me, I get grumpy when I get woken up so I thought it best you do it on your own."

Johnny chuckled, seeming a bit surprised at her gentle and kind action but said nothing other than a breath of "thanks".

"Yeah, well, you would've done the same for me…heh, probably more, but…" Ash's voice tapered off when she saw the pained look on his face; furry brows pinched as he rubbed the tips of his fingers over his forehead.

Ash gingerly brushed them aside and started massaging his forehead with the cooling rag and and purposeful strokes of her fingertips. Relieved when his hands fell back to his sides and he fully relaxed into her ministrations.

It grew silent for a long time as she stewed in the familiar anxiety nestled deep in her chest.

Knowing that while he was alive and in one piece, he was still hurting and that nothing had really been solved regarding his predicament. There was still three deranged animals out there wanting to hurt (kill) him and he refused to call the authorities or even go to a fucking hospital to get bandaged up properly. Terrified to even call the police to report the incident in fear his father would find out and get himself a longer prison sentence when he would indeed break out again and hunt down the bastards who did it. A part of her so tempted to get that to happen (she'd love to watch Big Daddy wring their scrawny necks) but wanting to respect Johnny's wishes won out that baser desire for vengeance.

It was still so damn infuriating though! Johnny refusing help from any outside sources and it was only the adoration she had nestled in her heart for him that she wasn't punching some sense into him right now.

"Well…" she finally spoke when Johnny's headache seemed to wane, "You really got yourself in a predicament, didn't you?" Ash asked (throwing out a million and one other things she wanted to say) while plopping the rag back onto the couch beside her.

"Heh." Johnny chuckled yet no mirth was ingrained in that bitter laugh, "My dad did, but I guess ya can say that…"

Ash bit back a response when he hastily continued; his eyes now open and pleading with her.

"Really, i-it's alright though. I don't want you to worry about any of this, Ash. You have enough on your plate - it's my problem - I'll deal with it."

"Hn - N-Now, how the hell do you propose to do that?" she questioned - quite transparent that she didn't believe he had any of this figured out quite yet. While awaiting an answer, her short fingers moved further up his head to twirl languidly in the longer, lighter fur; taking a second to thumb over the patch of hazelnut tinted fur.

"..."

"Johnny?" Ash asked again.

The gorilla let out a deep sigh before admitting, "I dunno, Ash… I - I know I can't stay here forever. Mr. Moon is already getting suspicious and the guilt is eating away at me, but…I can't stay at the garage either - especially now! A-And trying to afford a different place to live while dealing with my dad's lawyers and their outrageous bills that keep piling up, all these unnecessary court dates that cost so much and do so little! Every cent I make is going to this a-and I have no choice but to keep working and hoping for the best but I know this charade can't last forever…I just - I - GAH!" he yelled and pulled back her paw when he buried his face in his hands.

A grunt of pain followed the second his palms made contact and Ash wanted to bop him on the shoulder for being an idiot and touching his tender face so roughly.

"Johnny…look at me."

It took a good few moments before he pulled his hands from his face and laid them back on his bare stomach. Ash followed the motion and took in the darkening bruises that now lay scattered on his chest. Visual reminders of the hell he went through tonight - almost losing his life and now having to deal with the consequences of not having a safe, steady home and peering over his shoulder to wonder if they'd attack him again.

That's no life - it's hell, and Johnny didn't deserve that.

Prison was a better word for the situation he was in and Ash wondered if there was even a solution. Her own problems with her ex-boyfriend annoying her all hours of the night were nothing in comparison to the drastic switch Johnny's life had taken. Minor complaints and superficial issues seemed pale in comparison to the circus his life had transformed into. Multiple doubts and questions lingering painfully over what he could possibly do - what she could possibly do to help him…and then it hit her.

Ash's eyes widened as she thought about it and before she could talk herself out of it (or even mull over the idea completely), she found her mouth and tongue doing the work for her.

"Johnny," she spoke steadily, continuing when his eyes met hers, "You're not going back to the garage…and you sure as hell not staying here and taking showers in the fucking sink."

"Heh. I haven't gotten that far yet." he chuckled but she sensed the sadness lacing his voice. His face fell a breath later and all the worries he had buried underneath the surface echoed on his down-turned face - it broke her. "What else am I supposed to do? …I have no family that isn't in prison, I'm not even safe at my own house anymore, and I sure as hell don't want anyone else in the theater knowing about this! It's bad enough that you do now…"

Ash's offer died in her throat when that statement fell from his mouth - the rare swear nothing compared to him admitting he never planned on telling her.

"…Wait…y-you never planned on telling me?" Ash's eyes widened and brow heavily furrowed as she peered down at him; not quite believing what she was hearing even as she watched the words fall straight from his lips.

"I - I don't know…Maybe? Ya know, when it was all figured out or over and done with…"

"...or you were dead?"

Johnny was surprised at the tremble in which she spoke, shocked at seeing abrupt tears filling her icy orbs.

"...Yeah…I suppose that's how you would have found out, huh?" he acknowledged, eyes turning away from hers to stare at the ceiling.

The room became almost filled with an almost deafening silence. Only sounds that infiltrated the space were of the whirring lights exuding off the small lamp far off to their right, the muffled echoes of the never-sleeping city outside, and their unsteady breaths.

It came so suddenly - anger so alarming to her as it filled her chest. As if Johnny didn't care what happened to him; not allowing anyone to help - rather deal with it on his own until it sorted itself out or he died in the process. The confession on his lips broke something deep within her.

"How dare you." Ash whimpered.

Johnny's wide gaze suddenly met hers.

"How fucking DARE you!" tears began trickling down her face without her consent; causing a thin wet trail to slip down her furry cheeks in their wake. "Not telling anyone what you were dealing with? Facing these maniacs and not even caring if they killed you!? J-Johnny, I - I…h-how….Don't you have any idea - o-or know how much you…" her trembling voice tapered off; the pain accompanying the thought of losing him and how little he seemed to care had her voice failing her.

Ash physically couldn't finish whatever statement she had tried so hard to say.

Plain confusion written on his face combined with the hell he'd - they'd been through tonight - had finally become too much for her fragile strength to handle.

No more hesitation present and not being able to handle his warm chestnut eyes looking at her that way, Ash lunged forward. Hurriedly burying her face in his throat; nose nestled against his pulse point followed by a heartbreaking sob leeching out into his fur. Small fingers pulling frantically at his thick black pelt in desperate need to grasp onto something, anything to keep her tethered to this earth and whatever remained of her sanity.

Forced to confront how close she came to losing him tonight was overwhelming and his blatant disregard for his own life broke whatever remained of her abhorrent grasping she had on a cold, uncaring demeanor. A mask she'd grasped onto for way too long. So simultaneously furious with him but just so relieved he was here in one piece and she still had time…

Johnny more or less stayed completely silent throughout.

Shock slowly wearing off at seeing her breaking down overtook any confusion; desperate need to comfort her simply overwhelming everything else. Large, shaking hands gently enveloped her body. Carefully smoothing down her frayed quills and brushing his palm over her lower back and sides in reassuring strokes. Melting into her touch and warmth bundled against his chest; comfort he'd needed so bad after tonight coming to fruition. It was soon followed by guilt - by hiding such pertinent information from her; not telling his best friend what he was dealing with when he knew she had the right to know.

Johnny had been so used to doing things by himself for so long at this point, he didn't stop and consider how it could effect others - especially her.

"'m sorry, Ash. I shouldn't 'ave said that. I shoulda told ya about all this sooner - I'm so sorry…" Johnny found his voice before it tapered off; accent thick and a bit nasally as he nuzzled her forehead with his furry cheek when words failed him.

Ash couldn't help but smile at the ticklish feeling it bestowed upon her. Hating how she let herself emotionally break down like this but in the same instance never wanted him to stop…just what was wrong with her? Yet her normal brazen and rather prickly side of her personality didn't care for soon enough, she felt herself nuzzling him back. Lifting her nose from the hallow of his throat to nuzzle her cheek against his; body gravitating even closer to his addicting warmth and feel of him under her fur and skin.

Johnny was alive, warm, whole - perhaps a bit battered and bruised but ultimately, he would be okay - and dammit, she was determined to keep him that way.

"J-Just -" Ash whimpered, swallowing back the lump in her throat before uttering, "…just…never fucking do that again - okay? You need to promise me that you'll be more careful and listen to your gut when it tells you something is off - alright?"

"...I will," he promised.

"You also better tell me anything that's wrong whether it be you need money for food or you're getting fucking stalked! Stop holding back information because you think it'll bother me or some stupid shit like that! From now on, you better tell me everything - I mean, it Johnny! You're my best friend, you should be able to tell me this stuff!" she muttered into his neck, one hand releasing from his fur to wipe furiously at a few rebellious tears that slipped down her face.

Johnny must have noticed this action and slowly pulled back to look at her; Ash following him as much as she could before she reluctantly opened her teary eyes. Shocked to no end when his massive palm was suddenly cradling her face, thumb tenderly brushing over her cheek to wipe off the few tears she missed in her haste.

"I know, and 'm sorry. B-But, I promise, Ash, I'll be sure to tell ya everything from now on. I swear it." Then he smiled at her; wiping away another droplet that fell and her eyes instinctively slipped away from his. Ash swore he felt the heat rising to her face with the brush of his thumb across her cheekbone…yet found out she kinda didn't care.

"...You better." she whispered before she again buried her face in his throat. She told herself it was only to hide from his penetrating gaze but couldn't help but admit how great it felt (especially after such hell tonight) to hold him close.

Ash wasn't sure how long they stayed like that.

It was easily the most intimate they'd ever been with each other. Touching and in closer contact than either of them had been comfortable being at any point in time before. Friends that would hug, hold hands occasionally when running through a nasty rainstorm - hell, even cuddle and fall asleep together during a movie -

…but nothing like this.

Ash supposed it could have easily been the life and death situation or her realizing (and him too) how fragile life really was. A delicate, beautiful, flighty thing that could be stolen and ripped away without rhyme or reason whenever fate deemed fit. Yet, Johnny was spared for whatever explanation and for that - she couldn't be more grateful.

In this moment, she didn't care that her nose was buried in his throat; arms scattered over his broad shoulders as she pressed herself fully against his chest and Johnny didn't seem at all eager for it to stop either. Going as far as holding her in his firm hold without having the barrier of his shirt to keep them apart and him grasping onto his usual modesty. Heartbeats thudding against each other where they could feel the rise and fall of their combined breaths and absorb the warmth of the tight embrace.

It may have been more complicated, but at this time, it was simply contact to let the other know they were alive and for right in this moment, the world was an okay place.

There were no gang members trying to kill him or no annoying ex-boyfriends at her door, no father's locked away in prison, no feeling inadequate and questioning her worth that haunted her on a daily basis. Just two souls enjoying a brief moment of respite from the harsh world that awaited beyond this small couch - nothing more.

And that was okay.

Time slipped by slowly.

Johnny's strong, steady heartbeat was pleasant and comforting beneath her palm; warm breath brushing over her forehead causing the anxiety she had been harboring since seeing him tonight slowly faded away. A quite moment of reflection to which Ash was able to re-think her almost offer she had yet to verbally state.

Only one thing was certain - Johnny returning to the garage was simply not happening.

Ash blatantly refused to allow him to go back in the vicinity of those assholes who wanted to hurt him and not even dare to give them a chance to finish the job. Simply wouldn't allow Johnny to live in the theater where there were no showers, places to store food, fridges nor kitchens and thinking of him permanently sleeping on a lumpy couch in some backroom at the theater made her stomach churn uncomfortably.

Throughout it all, she recalled Johnny's reasoning for not having the funds to get a new place. While well-warranted because of his recent struggles (of the barest minimum he told her of anyway): getting his dad out of prison, fierce prosecutors ready to lock him up forever coupled with parole boards, rising court costs and bloodthirsty lawyers (considering her dad was one) who threatened your love one's freedom if they dared miss one paycheck.

Johnny had been working so hard in spite of it all.

Promoting, practicing, cleaning, theater upkeep, and doing everything Moon asked of him and kept up their crazy performance schedule without being a minute late. To acknowledge that every cent he earned was being spent on an expensive lawyer - and knowing Johnny the way she did, he probably refused himself necessities as long as it meant a single chance for his dad to soon be free and come back home.

It couldn't have been easy but Johnny had been trying and kept his positive nature throughout; casual smile never faltering even if his world may have been crumbling underneath his feet at times. Johnny was never one to concern others with any personal issues he may have been harboring - while it was noble, it was quite annoying for she desperately wanted to help. This guy had been there for her through it all and truthfully, made it possible for her to start trusting others again. Johnny's permanent positivity (while irksome at times) had her grow to lean on him and now she wanted to repay the favor.

What Johnny truly needed now was a break - respite, relief and not be looking over his shoulder everywhere he went now. Worried they'd attack him or worse - his father subsequently finding out and worried about the lengths he'd go to avenge his son. Johnny didn't need that kind of stress along with his already hectic life and more than anything, Ash just wanted (needed) him to be safe somewhere.

A home away from his worries and those who may want to hurt him…so what better place than hers?

Part of her felt insane for considering it but they had spent so much time outside of work anyway it only felt natural. They were always together, calling, texting, and at each other's place to just bum around and it was great. Johnny was clean, respectful, and was nothing but a gentleman - so why would that change in any aspect when living with him? Both worked hellish similar schedules so it's not like they'd be home much anyway and it wasn't as if he'd permanently living on her couch; she had another room she designated her 'music room' but that could be rearranged. Having Johnny alive and in one piece meant more to her than losing out on a bit of her privacy - besides, her apartment felt a bit too empty and lonely most times.

Admitting to herself that having him around would be nice - so before she could talk herself out of it, she let the words form.

"Hey. Johnny?" she asked, breath ruffling his fur as it exited her mouth.

"Hn? Yea?" he muttered and Ash hid the smile when she noticed how sleepy he sounded; maybe even dozed off a bit without her knowledge.

"...You're staying with me and that's final." Ash spoke firmly, daring him to object.

"...W-W - ahem - Eh…What?" accented voice was nothing than a gasp, correcting himself partly through by clearing his throat.

"You heard me." Ash lifted her head to gaze at him. As expected, his eyes were wide and mouth agape while staring at her as if she'd suddenly acquired an additional head.

"...What?"

"Johnny," Ash sighed, "I want you to stay with me - and you're going to stay with me." the strange inkling of the first moment she heard him sing flicked in her head with those words. How something that at once seemed so insignificant at the time felt so profound now. A meaningless lyric once upon a time now felt pressing and breathtakingly significant in its referred meaning as it was used now.

"..."

Ash wondered if he lost the ability to speak; her own voice feeling heavy as her heart pounded painfully against her ribcage and she hoped to God the shaking that developed in her paws and the blood rushing to her cheeks wasn't too obvious. She was about to say something to make the situation and its circumstances seem lighter somehow, but before she could utter anything out, he interjected.

"Ash - I-I," his voice felt foreign; thick and upset in a way she wasn't used to hearing. So much confliction in the expression on his face and his eyes having trouble meeting hers as he spoke. Johnny took a few breaths to gather himself before he continued…and his words were not what she cared to hear.

"...I appreciate the offer - I really do," he gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "…but no. I- I couldn't impose like that - I couldn't do that to you! I -" Johnny froze when she gingerly placed her small fingers over his lips, effectively silencing him.

Ash surprised herself at her forwardness but didn't show it - dutifully ignoring how his warm, soft lips felt under her fingertips and the surprise widening those gentle eyes when she spoke out with all the certainty she felt.

"I want you to stay with me." Ash flushed beside herself at the conviction in her voice and the look in his eyes when she said it had her stomach churning in a way with which she didn't think was possible. How open and clear they seemed and to cover the blush that was becoming much to prominent, she thought a more 'Ash-like' explanation was warranted.

"N-Not only for you but ya see, I have this ex-boyfriend infestation problem and I think you'd make an awesome live-in bodyguard now that I know you're not afraid to throw a punch." Ash chuckled as if to break up the tension she felt lingering in the air. Still her fingers remained over his mouth, tenderly stroking his swollen bottom lip as if to ease it as well as him in the process.

For the first time tonight, she seen him smile (genuinely this time) and Ash savored the sweet sight of it. Something that was always so common on his face was nearly absent tonight until this very moment and it warmed her heart like nothing else had before. A few seconds later, her hand moved from his lip to cup his cheek instead; remaining there to absentmindedly brush the fur covering his cheekbones. It was some form of relief; believing that he'd accept her offer and all the worries that remained buried in her gut would subside.

Yet all too soon, the smile he gave her fell and her heart lodged itself into her throat.

"I appreciate your kindness, Ash - I really do…but…I can't."

Ash's own smile faded just as quickly; brows furrowing as she stared at him but before she could butt in with a few choice words of her own, he continued.

"I couldn't do that - those blokes aren't going to give up so easily… I know they aren't, and I care way too much about you to needlessly put you through this. I can't give them the chance hurt you - I-I'd never want that to happen - I'd die before I let that happen."

Ash opened her mouth to speak, to stop him saying those things but she froze feeling his fingers suddenly over her lips - effectively silencing her much like she did to him.

"I'm not letting them hurt you too - not because of me, Ash… Never because of me. So, I'm sorry, but… I can't…"

"..."

"I just can't…" he whispered helplessly.

The steel in her eyes and heart was suddenly back with a vengeance.

Johnny's selflessness an annoying pain in her ass she was not dealing with anymore; for in his thinking, he didn't even realize how much his safety meant to her. The fact she needed him, cared for him, and wanted him safe meant more to her than some three deranged jerk-wads finding out where she lived. If it meant Johnny would stay alive and safe, she would deal with whatever hell they bothered to conjure up.

"You think I give a fuck?!" she growled after firmly pulling his fingers away from her mouth.

"A-Ash?" he was obviously scandalized by her actions (and words) but she wasn't done.

"I live in a fuckin' apartment - a police officer living three doors down mind you - I highly doubt they'll figure out where you're staying let alone the apartment number. You've been to my place, it's crawling with animals 24/7 - believe me because it's hell trying to fall asleep with all the damn noise! Those criminals may be stupid, but they're not that stupid to try that shit again with all those witnesses around."

"But they might know you live with me, follow you, and even hurt you! Perhaps even try and ransom you to lure me out, and -" Ash placed her finger over his lips again and the way they were pursed had him essentially kissing her fingertips. She ignored the shiver echoing through her spine upon feeling it and instead spoke in spite of it.

"My God! You worry too damn much. Look, I take a crowded walk every morning with a bus full of animals and you usually end up driving me home at night if we're done practicing at nearly the same time…right?"

Johnny hesitated slightly before had no choice and nodded in agreement.

"I'll be fine…and if you stay with me, you'll be too."

Johnny's eyes fell away as if unconvinced.

"Johnny, look at me," Ash directed gently and he reluctantly obeyed, "I hate that you got hurt tonight - I really do. It pisses me the fuck off…but even you have to admit that what happened shouldn't have been a surprise. The guys had been casing the place for at least a week - maybe more - and the garage is in the middle of nowhere! Hardly any street lights on the whole damn property - it's dark as hell at night around there and there's barely any street or foot traffic! It's no wonder that they finally got the balls to make a move!"

Johnny's cheeks darkened in shame but he didn't bother denying it.

"…But if you're living with me, you're not giving them the advantage. There's no way they'd try anything, and if they did, I'll call the police and your dad will be none the wiser…Capiche? We'd go on, those fuckers will either let whatever grudge they have go or be in jail. Everything will go back to normal - only, we'd be roommates. That's all." she finished, hating how her cheeks flushed at the last part.

Slowly, Ash began pulling back her fingers from his mouth.

Semi-expecting him to complain or come up with another scenario in which it was all a horrible idea…but that didn't happen. Instead, the gorilla remained painfully quiet for long drawn out moments; eyes cloudy as if lost in his head and mulling over everything she had told him. Time slipped by so much so that Ash was tempted to continue to further convince him but he beat her to it.

"...are ya sure?" Johnny asked meekly and Ash was tempted to roll her eyes.

"Yes. Would you like it in writing?" Ash teasingly replied.

"Nah, it's alright." he chuckled, smile faltering a bit when it was obvious his swollen lip made it hard to smile for too long. "But I would like to pay you back, at least help with rent at the very least. It'll make me feel better."

"If you insist but only what you can afford, Johnny. Just until this mess with your dad and his greedy lawyers is over then get ready to shell out for half of everything, buddy." The way she made it sound like a permanent thing had both of them breaking eye contact for a moment.

"Heh…I'd be happy to." he chuckled.

"Good. Then it's settled."

"...but -"

"Oh for God's sake, what now, Johnny?" Ash groaned, the exhaustion that had been plaguing her for days getting harder to ignore when it finally seemed as if there would be slight reprieve.

"...it's just…all my belongings, how am I supposed to get them out of there? I'm thinking they might stick around there - or maybe not, I don't know…Maybe I -"

"Perhaps go back during the day?" Ash interrupted, "Or bring a few buff friends with you to make sure they stay back? Hell, even Mike has a concealed carry after the whole bear incident and I hear he's a pretty good shot if the assholes want to try anything." she smirked at the shocked look that crossed his face, "You also have a truck - perfect for moving and I bet Meena, Eddie, and Buster wouldn't mind helping you move some of the larger furniture. I would offer my services but I highly doubt I could be of much help." she finished with a gesture to her petite stature.

Those words seemed to have Johnny reconsidering, his eyes flitting to the side before meeting hers again and uttering out yet another excuse, "...even then, Ash, I've been to your place. It's not very large and I don't want to clutter up your place with all my junk - I-It's not right, you shouldn't have to do this for me..."

"We've been over this - I want to." Ash sighed heavily, "Johnny, the only place you have to bend down so you don't bump the ceiling with your noggin is my front door - Other than that, it's gorilla sized enough with the tall ceilings and you've sat on and even crashed on my furniture plenty of times and it never broke. As for room, I think we'll manage the space so don't worry about that."

"But -" Johnny opened his mouth to intercept but Ash talked over him.

"But nothing, Johnny! There's plenty of room even if you want to bring your piano over! Besides, the music room you'll be staying in is nearly empty after I threw out all of Lance's shit - I'll just have to move the few guitars and amps into my living room. It's no big deal because I wanted to reorganize the living room anyway now that Lance's music collection is nothing more than a pile of ashes in my apartment's incinerator." Ash shrugged off his fears in her normal laid-back way; even giving a devilish smile when she relived the joys of burning all of Lance's possessions. "Plenty of room." she winked at him.

Johnny cracked a smile and for Ash, it was great seeing the relief fill his face even if a slight bit of worry remained etched into the furrow of his brows.

"Okay," Johnny finally acquiesced and she physically breathed a sigh of relief at his acceptance before he said something she nearly forgot mentioning, "What were ya saying 'bout Lance? An infestation?"

"Oh… That. Well, long story short - he's the bane of my existence and won't leave me alone. It's been going on for awhile."

"...is that why you're here so late?"

Ash hid the flush of embarrassment knowing how Johnny told her of his own squatting ways at the theater. Instead, she just gave him a dry look before rolling her eyes and agreeing with a shrug.

"Guess ya could say that." she verbally admitted.

"He's not trying to hurt you, is he?" the low growl in his voice had Ash looking at Johnny differently. Face heating with seeing very unfamiliar anger crossing those warm chestnut eyes with flecks of reds and coffee browns.

In that moment, Ash couldn't help but recall how upset Johnny had been over Lance since she told him exactly what happened. How his happy demeanor shifted upon mentioning Lance cheating after all their years together; many times he put her down and kept her pushed to the background when singing together. Recalled the slight snarl Johnny spoke with when referring to him since - telling her how she deserved better and how Lance was a 'bloody wanker' for treating her that way. It was the closest she'd ever witnessed Johnny being actually angry…and it was rather flattering that it was over her.

"No." she answered, running a paw over his cheek absentmindedly as if to reassure him, "He's just annoying the hell out of me lately. Texting and calling constantly and since I don't answer my phone, he decided to mosey on over and stand outside my front door all night and irritate the hell out of me. Overall, being a gigantic dip-wad who doesn't take 'no' for an answer; but, another benefit of you moving in is he'll take one look at you and most likely piss himself." Ash chuckled lightly; face heating when she caught herself looking down his muscular chest and broad shoulders.

Johnny's cheeks were tinted red as well but he took it in stride; looking at her as if he wasn't completely convinced of this situation but yet her smile didn't falter.

"Ya want me to rough the ol' wanker up a bit?" he asked jokingly and Ash couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Here was perhaps the most gentle being on the planet joking about kicking her ex-boyfriend's ass for bothering her, and damn, it kinda sounded amazing even if it was said in a joking manner.

"Hell, if you can make it so he doesn't come over again, I'll be the one paying you to stay over." she teased back, bopping him lightly on the chin and he smiled with all his teeth (even if it couldn't feel good for his lip, he didn't seem to care). Flashing those white canines that had her stomach churning slightly in her nervous gut.

"I'm not making any promises." he brushed his chin against her fingers and she nervously pulled them back to rest on his chest. Wondering to herself how a night that started with such blatant horror and anxiety was now ending with teasing…and perhaps mild flirting caused by their tiredness, Johnny's blood loss, or something entirely genuine - she couldn't tell you exactly. Most of her dared not confront any of that - especially now of all times. Now that he was safe and secure, there was plenty more time to consider all of that later…but not now.

"Dammit," she muttered, smile plastered on her face as she stared down at him; biting her lip and not holding back the small chuckles that escaped.

The moment faded and Johnny, while seemingly convinced of the plan, held a hint of uncertainty in the purse of his lips and distance in his eyes. Ash admitted there was still many hurtles before things would ultimately come together. None of the things they planned would happen overnight or even in a few weeks time if she was at all honest with herself, but she was certain they'd get there in time.

"Ash, I -" Johnny began to speak when she yet again put her small hand over his lips. The surprise was obvious in his face but she just shook her head at him wanting to continue with the thought.

"No more tonight, Johnny." Ash sighed while removing her fingers. Ignoring the baser instincts to keep her distance, leaned down a bit to rest her cheek on his (un-swollen one of course).

Johnny flinched at the contact but didn't object; rather pushed into it, nuzzling her face lightly with his own and she tried not to read too much into it even as her heart pitter-pattered frantically against her ribcage. Ash's cheeks warmed at the intimate contact; surprised at herself how affectionate she was being with him and he with her.

More intimate than friends should be…but she supposed it didn't matter.

"…I'm fucking tired." she said as way of explanation now that she was still laying partially atop of him. As much as she wanted to stay up all night talking to him; it had been a long few days and this was the most comfortable she'd been in a long time.

So, she damn well was going to take full advantage of it.

"Oh…Right…Um, y-ya should get some rest and we can talk more about it tomorrow." Johnny uttered out and she felt her heart skip at the light blush that cascaded over his cheeks at her action. "Mr. Moon won't be here for a few more hours anyway." he continued almost as an afterthought and that made Ash smile into the fur of his neck.

"We should rest." Ash corrected.

A part of her told her to get off and lay on the other side of the couch. Even dig up some pillows and blankets to make her a place to rest on the floor - but the warmth and comfort of his body was much too tempting for her exhausted state. So, to both her and Johnny's surprise, Ash didn't pull away completely - merely scooted down his body a bit before fully laying next to him - squishing herself between his side and the back couch cushions.

Quilled head nestled on his broad chest (careful to avoid the bruising), the rest of her petite body curled snugly against his side with her shoulder brushing under his armpit and his arm nestled securely around her. He made no move to avoid her quills and didn't seem at all bothered of how they rested smoothed against his arm. Ash avoided his questioning stare and flushed cheeks as she tried and control the rush of blood infiltrating hers at her forward action.

Yet, she made no move to adjust from her spot and Johnny seemed content with his as well.

Johnny and Ash both lay there for a long time not knowing what to say or do and Ash, surprised at her actions, found she didn't care. Simply closed her eyes and relaxed into his body; strong heartbeat thumping against her ear and knew it definitely was the most beautiful sound she ever heard. Strong, steady, and the rising and falling of his breaths caused her nothing but relief. A night that could have turned into the worst scenario ever ended with her falling asleep on his chest. A night that would be remembered as one where she lost her best friend forever was now one where it would be a shift in which they became closer than ever.

The comfort of it all had her relaxing into a near serene state…

"Ash?" until Johnny's timid voice broke the silence.

"...Yeah?" she asked sleepily.

"I jus'…wanted ta say thanks - for everything," it was merely a whisper; voice heavy with exhaustion but he made sure to say it.

Ash was tempted to lift her head, to tell him it was nothing and she wished she'd done more, but decided against it. Merely scraped the tips of her fingers over his bare chest; warm, thick skin ruffling the fine fur covering her hand. She felt the shiver it caused him and she smiled, nuzzling the side of her head on his chest before feeling it necessary to reply.

"Yeah...no problem," she decided upon - no more really needed to be said (even if a lot went unspoken) but it appeared Johnny was satisfied with it all the same.

"...G'nite, Ash." he said a breath later.

"Night." she replied, eyes never opening but she knew he was smiling when he said it.

Soon enough, his body grew lax, breaths deeper and more even in sleep and she knew she'd be following him into sweet slumber soon.

In those quiet moments between her thoughts and the unconsciousness of upcoming sleep, she thought about tonight's events and those soon to be transpiring after. Sure, not all of their problems would be solved overnight, but what could have been an absolute disaster turned into something else…

A beautiful disaster she supposed because when tonight started, she had dreaded home - the mere idea of confronting the problems at her apartment making her stomach churn. Hating the idea of going there and whatever tomorrow had in store; another night of sleep lost because of Lance's hellbent (and annoying) persistence and the writer's block plaguing her creatively were problems of absolute insignificance when confronted with the very real possibility of Johnny almost losing his life tonight.

Confronting a life without him far worse than anything else so her little problems felt like whispers in a hurricane.

Yet, that didn't happen.

Johnny was here - alive, breathing, perhaps battered and bruised, but would be healed soon enough - and sooner still, he'd be living with her. The reality of that still sinking in but instead of nervousness filling her chest - it was excitement. Ash didn't need to dread Lance or fear whatever small inconvenience life held - she needed to simply enjoy this crazy life of hers and dammit, she was going to. As she settled into Johnny's side, she loosely embraced him - his warm skin and fur lulling her to the waiting arms of slumber.

With that final thought and with the soothing sound of Johnny's heartbeat and breath filling her ears, she fell asleep - ready to confront whatever tomorrow has in store for both of them.

The End

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