#when she teleports with him she squeezed his shoulder like a half hug

[solargeist]

i love Her and think She should get to keep Her baby forever. like i think he should just never grow up. it's very rude of him to be anything other than Her baby when She is such a loving mother

SKSNSKSK right like 🙄🙄🙄how dare he break his mothers heart loLL

#ask #i love her sm she’s an architect she has a little book that she carries around. doodling buildings #she was a big fan of the death games when she was younger tho. a nun and her knives.. funny stories abt her traps! #evoau #she has feathers under that veil. she doesn’t know how long humans should sleep so sometimes grian makes her nervous #when she teleports with him she squeezed his shoulder like a half hug #she could just touch his should but she wants to make sure he lands steady #I’m so sad rn wtf that her son 😤 #she lets him go

[superbat-is-king]

At first, Fearne thinks the twin looks of relief are because they’ve finally found each other again. Overjoyed at their reunion, and sandwiched in between a much needed group hug, she doesn’t notice until after they’ve broken the embrace. She doesn’t notice, or maybe ignores, that their relief is also twisted up in sadness.

When she sees Imogen and Laudna hold onto each other like they’ll never let the other go again, when she sees Ashton give FCG the most affectionate fist bump they can muster, that’s when she realizes… twin looks?

“Where’s Orym?” She asks, smile still spread wide, looking around the forest they’re in.

If she didn’t want to acknowledge something was wrong before, it’s hard to deny now.

Because now Ashton is looking down, at Chetney, at Grass, anywhere but back at her.

Because now Laudna has black tears collecting in her eyes, hands squeezing tighter around Imogen’s.

Then she notices the sling on Ashton’s back. One that looks eerily like the one he used to carry Laudna back then. They start to undo the knot to lower its contents to the ground.

“No,” Fearne says, taking a step forward. “No, that’s not—” She pauses, unable to look away as the genasi bends down to pull back the shroud. “Stop.”

Ashton does, just lets a hand hover over the fabric. They still can’t look at her. “I— Fearne, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop,” she repeats, “It’s not— it’s not.” She kneels, barely registering that Chetney has skittered over to her side, the rest of the Bells standing quietly in a half-circle before them. Deanna and FRIDA have hung back, expressions of worry and curiosity gracing their features.

Fearne grips the edge of the shroud, slowly pulling it down, until brown hair is visible, until his face is visible. She calls his name once because he looks a little like he’s sleeping. (But she knows better, because he hasn’t looked this peaceful in a long time.)

“What the fuck happened?” she demands, though it comes out pleading.

“We got into some trouble,” Ashton starts. “He tried to… he did save me— and Laudna! We didn’t see— we were going to find someone to heal him, and then we found you guys!”

“He died protecting you? Why didn’t you help him!?”

“I tried, Fearne, I did, but we didn’t have any potions and I don’t have that kind of magic,” Laudna exclaims, despair in her tone. “But it’s only been a day, not even a full day! We can help him, right? We can find something?”

The magic is already sparking at Fearne’s fingertips before Laudna can even finish her sentence. She brought him back before with this, obviously she can do it again. She sends the revivification spell through his still body, and does what she knows can work. “Hey, best friend, you gotta come back, ok, please? We— we’re here, we’re all here, we're back! Just missing our fighter!”

He lies there, unmoving.

“Hey… hey, Orym?”

FCG wheels over, spindly fingers reaching out towards her. “Fearne, that only works one minute after they’ve—”

“I can do it!” She snaps, putting both hands over his torso and trying again, even though the magic has already fizzled out, even though she doesn’t even have the components needed. She can’t do it again. “I can— FUCK!”

She looks up at everyone there, searching their faces, all broken, all helpless. “Deanna? Can you-? You have to have something!”

The gnome shakes her head, apology on her lips.

“Ok, then, what do we do?” The druid asks, gathering up her friend again, cradling him close to her. Mister crawls out from under her hair then, and climbs onto her shoulder. He paws at Orym, screeching quietly, eyes fixated on him. “Wha— what can we do? We should call the— umm, Pike, right? Imogen? She can get him back!”

“Yeah, yeah, of course!” Imogen nods, one hand letting go of Laudna’s and finding Fearne’s. “Messages are still— they’re still not working, but that’s ok! We- we just… we need to figure out what’s going on with the solstice and- and the teleportation circles and we’ll find a way to Whitestone!”

“Here, let me—” Motioning for the faun to pass him towards them, FCG gently bumps heads with the halfling, a spell coursing through to bless him. “There, it’s like what I did with Laudna, so his body stays protected and we can have more time to get him back.”

“As long as the spirit is willing,” FRIDA adds and before the thought fully leaves him, he knows he’s made a mistake.

Fearne whirls on him, a fire rapidly simmering behind her eyes. “Why would you say that? You don’t know him! Orym would never leave us, leave me, like that!”

“No, no, we don’t doubt that!” Deanna jumps in, bailing the aeormaton out. “FRIDA just means it does get… more difficult to come back the longer— at least, that’s sort of what it was like for me.”

"I'm sorry, who the fuck are you?" Ashton questions, though no one has a chance to answer before Fearne gets up, her little spoon laying limp in her arms.

“Well, ok… then, I’ll just get him back now!”

“Fearne, we will,” states Chetney with conviction. “But we can’t right this second. Where would you—?”

“I’ll figure something out! The magic here is all— what if we take too long? What if Pike can’t-?” She doesn’t allow herself to finish, just shakes her head clear. “I need to go home— Nana… she’ll— she’ll know what to do!”

“Yeah, yeah, Nana Morri, that’s a good idea!” FCG chirps, wheeling back the way they came. “We just have to find our way back to the gateway! Let’s go!”

“No, no, what about the solstice stuff? Your mom, Keyleth? You guys focus on that, I’ll go—”

“What?” Imogen interrupts, “that’s— no, come on, we’ll get Orym back first. That can wait. We’re coming with you.”

“It’s ok,” Fearne says, a bit tersely. “We need to figure out what’s happening out here with the arcana, divide and conquer is the best way.”

“But we just found each other again,” Laudna mumbles, a sad smile finding its way to her lips. “We should do this together. Like you all did for me.”

“What’s…” Chetney wonders aloud when he notices the conflicted glower on the faun’s face. “Do you not want us to come with you?”

“… not really.” Adjusting her hold on Orym, Fearne blows out a breath and rubs at her eyes with one hand. There’s a memory coming forth in her mind, one of a dark fey— of a fanged, soot-black skinned, angry version of her. She glances down at her one hand, forming the blackened claw-like fingers into a fist. “If this doesn’t work… I don't know if you'll like the person I'll become.”

When there is only stunned silence, she flicks her gaze back up to her friends, letting out a short laugh. “But you guys will figure it out, I know you will! So even if I can’t, I’ll come back and magic will be turned on again and we— we can try again, right?”

“Are… are you sure?” Imogen asks, stepping closer to her, cupping Orym’s cheek with her other hand.

“Yes,” Fearne nods. “I wasn’t there for him before, but I can be now! I’m going to get him back.” She looks at everyone assembled there for a moment, then turns to Deanna, lowering Orym down to her. “Can you hold him for just one second?”

“Of course.” Without hesitation, the cleric hands her staff off to FRIDA, taking him in both her arms.

As soon as she does, Fearne reaches out towards Bells Hells, pulling them all in for one more hug. Separately giving one to FCG and Imogen, she says, “he’s gonna be fine!”

“We trust you,” they reply in unison.

Doing the same for Chetney, she stoops down, lays her head on his yarn hat for a moment and declares, “I’ll be back before you know it! You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“How could I not?” She hears him mumble back and bites back a snicker. “Be safe,” he tacks on, “bring him back to us.”

She turns lastly to Ashton and Laudna, holding her lost companions a little tighter and a little bit longer than the rest.

“Fearne, I really—” They both start to say, stumbling over their words slightly.

“I know,” Fearne cuts them off, nuzzling her head in between theirs. “I know it wasn’t your— We got separated and you got into a fight and… I know it can’t be helped, because that’s just the kind of guy he is! He’s selfless and protective and really, really great… so I am going to get him back, ok?”

“Ok,” is Ashton��s only reply.

“I wish you’d let us go with you,” Laudna laments, hand carding through seafoam green hair.

“I can’t,” Fearne reiterates. “If he’s gone…” she trails off. It’s not their fault, she knows, but she can’t help thinking otherwise. It’s cruel, she knows, but she can’t help the way she feels. “If he’s gone,” she whispers through tears, “I will never forgive you. I’ll never—”

She stops there, places one more kiss to Ashton’s head, squeezes Laudna once more, and turns to take Orym back.

“I’ll come back… We— We’ll come back,” she promises, “we’ll find you.”

With one last look at her friends, she leaves into the forest, Mister at her heels.

#critical role #orym #fearne calloway #EXU besties #so anyway I had a dream Orym died but I didn’t remember any of it except that he died #so I wrote this #and decided to make it everyone’s problem :) #orym of the air ashari #fearnrym

[kagedbird]

TESSDE AU (+ Taliesin) Continuation of this

Allora has spent the last week at home with the boys and Bren, relaxing not too dissimilar from a dysfunctional family. The trio have been taking their time getting to know one another better and Allora has become more comfortable with displays of affection- slowly. She's received a letter from a courier that Lucien will be coming home in the next few days, and another from Inigo that she was free to teleport him to her whenever she needs. Deciding to wait until both were back, she happily runs into Lucien's arms as he entered into Whiterun.

Allora: You're back! *squeezes him tightly, burying herself against him* Welcome home! Lucien: *a little teary eyed at her tight hug and the big warm welcome, chuckling softly* Well hello! This is certainly nice. Allora: I missed you. Lucien: Awh! I missed you too. Hello Kaidan, Taliesin! Kaidan: Welcome back Lucien. Find out anythin' interestin' in yer studies? *claps Lucien on the shoulder* Lucien: *eyes bulging in surprise* Uh... w-well, yes! Many very interesting things! Would you like to hear about them? Taliesin: Perhaps we should have Allora bring home our final guest first? Lucien: Final guest? *releases Allora as she pulls away* Allora: *focuses on Inigo's soul as the magick forms into her palm, whispering* Inigo. *casts the spell a few feet from her, and out apperates Inigo* Inigo: Whoa! You are very lucky my friend, I just finished going to the bathroom- oof! Allora: *flung herself to hold onto Inigo just as tightly, laughing happily* Welcome home! Inigo: Hehe. Thank you, my friend. It is good to be home. Lucien: Inigo! Where were you, old chap? And what on Nirn was that spell?! Inigo: Oh, Lucien! You returned! It is good to see you. We went on a long quest for myself after you had left to your Dwemer ruin; it turns out I also have a big prophecy just like our friend here! Taliesin: Yes, perhaps we can discuss that back at the house? *gently pulls Allora closer to him and guides her back home* Kaidan: *walking after the two* Aye, plenty to talk about. Good t'see you, Inigo. Inigo: Yes! I am glad to see you are all well. What has happened while we were out? Allora: Well... *** Lucien: *frowning in thought as Allora sat between Taliesin and Kaidan, both of them hovering around her quite a lot more than normal* ... Inigo: Julian? Lucien: Hm? Oh, my apologies. Were you saying something? Inigo: You were saying something about your Dwemer ruins, but you went quiet. Lucien: *flustered, coughing into his hand* Ah, sorry, I believe the... long travel is getting to me is all. Allora: Do you need to rest? You can take my room! Lucien: Ah, no no. I wouldn't want to kick you out of your own room! Kaidan: *standing up to gather more alto wine* You wouldn't. She's been sleepin' in the master. Taliesin: More accurate to say you'd be taking the room from Mr. Folsterhan. Inigo: Does this have to do with the kidnappers? Allora: *blushing brightly as she doesn't look the two in the eye* ...Not... exactly... but kind of... Kaidan: *returns with two bottles of alto wine, refilling Allora's glass before his* We're all sleepin' in there together. Lucien: *eyes widen as he stares at Taliesin and Kaidan, realizing they haven't bit off each other's head once since he returned* You're- you're together? Inigo: When did this happen? Congratulations you three! Allora: *swallows down half her glass of wine in one go to try and curb the embarrassment* Oh god...

[Next one here]

#kajshsakdj #It begins #Taliesin Skyrim #Modded followers #Kaidan Skyrim #Kaidan Khim #inigo the brave #inigo skyrim #lucien flavius #Lucien skyrim #Allora #Dragonborn oc #Shorts #TESSDE AU #tes #tesblr #Skyrim #She's not embarrassed that she's with those two btw #I'm very private about my personal affairs; so I know I would be dying in a conversation about who I'm dating LOL #Also I always feel like if I'm dating others it prevents me from finding other partners because of most monogamous mindsets- #And Allora is still very interested in those two #They would absolutely take the longest to confess though #Mostly bc of their nature as non-romanceable NPCs- Taliesin being exempt as Dynamite is wanting to make a romanceable route for him

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

Based on this post by @broodygaming

read on ao3 (1.5k)

Caleb watches Veth crouch before her son, hugging him with all her might as she says goodbye. He sees the tears slip from her eyes and he knows what they are all too scared to admit, none of them think they will be coming back. Veth thinks that this is her last time hugging her boy. It’s in that moment that Caleb makes a decision, no matter what, Veth will make it out of this. Her boy will not grow up without a mother, her husband will not lose his wife.

Before they leave, Yeza touches Caleb’s arm and pulls him to the side. In the halfling’s eyes, Caleb sees so much fear. Yeza is silent for a moment. “How…How dangerous is it up there? I know Veth was lying to me.” 

Caleb reaches down and squeezes his shoulder, “It is nothing the nine of us can’t handle. I will do everything in my power to make sure she comes home to you and Luc. You have my word.” 

Yeza nods, “Thank you, Caleb. I’ve-I’ve lost her once, I don’t want to lose her again. I don’t want Luc to lose her again. And I know you can’t promise her safety, you can’t promise that she’ll be okay. All I ask is that you don’t let her sacrifice herself.” 

“I swear.” Caleb nods sharply. 

“Caleb!” He looks down to see Luc running over to him with a wide smile, something dangling from his hands. Caleb smiles and leans down to lift the boy up onto his hip. “I made you something.” 

“You did?” 

Luc nods happily, not understanding the gravity of the situation. He lifts something up and Caleb sees that in his hand is a bracelet of golden buttons, nine of them, tied together with a red string. “It’s to keep you safe,” Luc explains with a smile. He ties it around Caleb’s wrist without prompting.

“Thank you, Luc, it’s a very beautiful bracelet,” Caleb assures the boy. “Now, I think you should run and go give your mother another hug.” He lowers Luc to the ground and almost immediately, the boy is off like a shot towards his mother. 

He can’t fail. He would be glad to give his life to defeat the Nonagon, he will do whatever it takes to make sure Veth doesn’t pay that price. When they appear back in Eiselcross, Caleb looks down at his new bracelet and then over to Veth who is quickly buttoning her coat, having forgotten about it before the teleport. 

Whatever it takes.

He talks to Fjord about it one night when the rest are sleeping, Jester’s head on the half-orc’s leg. “Fjord, in the event that things don’t go as planned, I have one get out of jail free card. I will be using it for Veth, to send her back to her husband and child. But…in doing so I will most likely be leaving the rest of us to die.” 

Fjord nods seriously, “That’s the right thing to do. It’s the same decision I would make. The rest of us…well we’re mostly alone. Veth’s family needs her.”

“I am…concerned that some of the others may think I am prioritizing her life over theirs.”

“They won’t. Everyone knows what’s at stake here.” Fjord’s eyes fall to Jester, running his thumb over his shoulder. Then he lifts his eyes to Caleb’s once more, “But only if it comes to that.” 

“Ja, of course.” Then a beat. “It won’t come to that.”

“It won’t,” Fjord agrees, though Caleb can see in his eyes that Fjord doesn’t quite believe it. 

But of course, it does come to that. 

Caleb is lying on the ground, his blood melting the snow around him. He is close to death, he can feel it creeping over him. Beau is the only one still standing, blood pouring from her eyes, leaning heavily on her staff as she stands in front of Yasha who leans against a snow bank, clutching her side painfully, sword missing from her hands. Fjord lies breathing heavily, mere feet from Lucien and his gang behind him menacingly. Jester is the closest Fjord, unmoving on the ground, tail limp. 

And Veth. Veth is hunched behind a rock, reloading her crossbow. She too has blood running from her eyes and nose, but unlike the others, she’s still trying to fight. Caleb’s eyes fall to the bracelet on his wrist, he thinks of Luc’s wide, trusting eyes, of Yeza asking him to bring his wife home safe. 

It’s time. 

Lucien tuts softly, looking down at all of them with a wicked smile. The worst part is, neither he nor his compatriots look the least bit injured. Lucien’s tail swipes lazy arcs in the snow behind him. “You all seemed so confident, did you really think that mere mortals could destroy the Nonagon?” He laughs lightly as looks at Beau, “Don’t you want to join your friends?” He nicks his nail against his wrist, sending sharp bolts of his own blood towards her, three strikes landing on Beau’s chest as she cries out and crumbles to the ground, bleeding steadily. Lucien pays it almost no mind as he walks towards Jester, kicking her head gently so her face rolls to look at them, allowing the rest of the Nein to see her vacant eyes, streaks of blood freezing to her cheeks. “Killing you is just the first step of many. And do you know what the best part is?” He walks over to Yasha, leaning down and tucking a strand of her bloody hair behind her ear. Yasha doesn’t even fight it, tears washing away the blood on her face. Lucien smiles, “Your deaths will mean nothing.”

Caleb grunts softly as he inches his hands towards Veth. Any second now, she’ll spring from her hiding place to attack Lucien. He can’t let her do that. She is his dearest friend, he cannot let her die here. The sun glints on the gold buttons around his wrist. Caleb’s eyes fall closed for a second as he conjures up an image of the Evening Nip, the place they left the Brenattos. 

Caleb swallows thickly, muttering softly under his breath as his hand creeps forward in the snow towards Veth. She’s just about to jump out and fire, but a bolt of amber energy shoots from his finger, wrapping around her. There’s a brief second where Veth turns and looks at him, her face full of shock and terror. Caleb wishes he could say something to her, some last, parting words. But he can’t risk drawing Lucien’s attention. 

Veth disappears from the snow with a soft whooshing sound.  

Almost immediately after she vanishes, Lucien stomps on Caleb’s wrist, breaking it soundly as the human screams. The tiefling looks at Caleb with venom and hisses, “You shouldn’t have done that, magic man.”

Veth appears in the basement of the Evening Nip, hit by the sudden heat and smell of alcohol. And she screams. Her family is dying and she is thousands of miles away, she could have saved them, she could have helped them live. But instead she’s safe and warm with nothing but despair and grief crushing her in a wave. 

Hands touch her shoulders, her husband’s face swimming in her gaze. His face is full of concern, but she shoves his hands away. She doesn’t want his comfort. 

“Veth-”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Veth snaps, gasping for breath. “Don’t fucking touch me!” She shouts, putting a shaking hand between her and her husband. She kicks the wall as hard as she can, fists yanking at her hair. 

“Don’t do that, honey,” Yeza says softly, taking in her bloodied appearance, snow still melting on her coat and pants. “You’re hurt. Talk to me, what happened?”

“I don’t want to be here,” Veth cries desperately. “I want to be with them and-and they’re dead and Caleb, he-he sent me here.” Veth falls to her knees, the fighting draining from her as she sobs. Almost immediately, Yeza pulls her into his arms, holding her tight. “He sent me away,” Veth sobs into his shoulder. 

“Shh…” Yeza rocks her back and forth, having no idea how to comfort her in this moment. 

Veth cries for a long time, her momentary anger replaced with pure grief for the family she lost. Yeza holds her through it, brushing back her hair, kissing her head, doing anything he can to comfort her. None of it works, but he keeps trying anyway. 

When Luc comes inside the room and sees his mother, he shouts in joy, running over and throwing his arms around her neck. Veth hugs her boy as tight as she can, tears dropping into his hair. But even with her husband and her child, she can only think of her friends, the ones she abandoned in the snow. The ones who died without her. 

Thousands of miles away, there are six bodies frozen in the snow. Maybe a passing traveler will see them and whisper a prayer for their souls, maybe that traveler sees the golden bracelet clutched in one of their hands, held like it was the most important item in the world. 

#my fic #critical role #mighty nein

[shycoconutt]

I Found My Light: Chapter 2 (Kakashi X Reader)

Chapter 1

A/n: Well, I decided to continue! I'm very excited about this. Hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Left confused after last night, you talk with Kurenai over breakfast at your favorite diner.

Word Count: 1400

Warnings: fem!reader, SFW (but might not be later lol)

“You… cuddled?” You could feel Kurenai’s eyes burning into the top of your head as you stared down at the coffee cup between your hands, her tone of disbelief unquestionable.

“I mean, yeah, I don’t know how else to describe it,” you started, nervously biting your lip, “one moment we were under the tree with his arms wrapped around me, and the next I was waking up in my own bed this morning with him nowhere to be found.” It was strange really. You don’t remember even moving from the spot you two were in, so how could you have made it all the way home without waking up? Did he carry you all the way there? Teleport? How does he even know where you live?

“Are you sure you’re not imagining it? Sounds to me like you were just having a realistic dream.” You could see Kurenai’s hand reach out and grab your wrist, giving it a small squeeze. “Didn’t you say you were thinking about him the other day? Maybe he just ended up slipping into your dream because you miss him.”

Looking up from your cup, you meet her sympathetic eyes. Kurenai knows more than anyone else about the feelings you had for Kakashi when you were young, so dreaming about him wouldn’t be a far-fetched idea.

“Listen, I get why you would think that way,” you started, “but I’m telling you, as ridiculous as it sounds, that’s what happened.” You lean back into the booth and fold your arms across your chest, escaping Kurenai’s grasp. There’s absolutely no way you will let anyone take that moment away from you, you decided.

“Alright, alright, I believe you!” Kurenai chuckled with her hands coming up in defense. “If you want I can ask Asuma to tell me if Kakashi says anything about it to him. I mean I highly doubt Kakashi would go around telling people you two had a cuddle session, but who knows? He sounds like a whole new man.”

“Order’s up!” Your waiter exclaimed, bringing three plates of food over to your booth. “Let’s see I have the eggs and bacon,” placing the plate in front of Kurenai, “the veggie scramble, and the pancakes you wanted to share.” Placing the rest of the plates down, you both give him a warm smile and a thank you.

“Mmm yum.” You both say in unison as you begin to eat.

“Honestly, (y/n), you better hurry up and eat that scramble because I am ravenous right now and will finish our pancakes before you even get to them.” Kurenai teased with a mouth full of eggs.

“You eat my half of the pancakes and you can expect a kunai in your back during training today.” You threatened, pointing your butter knife at her.

“Wait,” Kurenai paused and then gasped, “that’s right!”

“What?” You ask, a tad concerned at her excitement.

“Kakashi!”

“Kakashi—”

“Will be at training today!” She exclaimed. You could feel the blood begin to drain from your face. “Yeah since he’s not a member of the Anbu anymore he has time to train with us. Gui finally convinced him to, saying something about taking advantage of the springtime of our youth.”

“Ah, typical Gai.” You spoke flatly, trying to remain as casual as possible, but inside you began to panic. How are you going to face Kakashi so soon? You have absolutely no idea how he feels about last night. I mean, he instigated the cuddle session but left you in your bed this morning without any word. Were you supposed to keep that moment between you a secret? Did you already mess up by telling Kurenai? How could you be so—

“(Y/N)!”

You snapped out of your train of thought and met Kurenai’s concerned eyes, a small smile forming at the corners of her mouth.

“(Y/n), I can feel you spiraling from over here.” She gave you a small chuckle. “You’re going to be fine. If anything, he should be the one nervous to face you. How can he explain what happened last night without admitting he has feelings for you?” She reasoned while taking the last bite of her half of the pancakes.

“Admitting he has feelings for me?” You repeated in disbelief after a pause. “You can’t be serious.”

“Well, how else do you explain it?”

“He’s lonely, or lost.” You begin to think out loud. “Ah, or he needed human connection and I was the only one around, simple as that.” Proud of your answer, you take the last couple bites of your food as well.

“I suppose you could be right,” Kurenai began, “but you're definitely wrong.”

“How am I wrong?”

“Well, to be completely honest with you, if anyone in the world ends up with Kakashi, it’s going to be you,” Kurenai stated matter-of-factly.

“What!” You scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

“Hey, hey, not too fast there with the rejection.” Kurenai reasoned. “Besides Rin, you were the only girl he gave any attention to.”

Rin.

My poor Rin.

I miss her.

“You realize that’s because Rin and I were best friends right? I was only given attention by association. He was close to me because he had to be.” Your voice began to trail off at the end as you could start to feel your throat tighten, Rin’s death still stinging like salt in an open wound. “Don’t forget what happened in the months after Rin’s death.”

“I know,” Kurenai said almost to herself.

You continued anyway, “He avoided me. We crossed paths probably a thousand times at Rin’s grave, no words exchanged. Until one day I told him that I knew what happened and that I didn’t fault him for any of it. Then we exchanged a few words here and there only for it to ultimately fizzle out again. Now here we are, years later, and we’re somehow connected again? Seemingly out of nowhere? It makes no sense.” Damn, maybe I was dreaming.

“Maybe it does.”

“How?”

“Well,” Kurenai sat back and began to play with the ends of her hair, “what if he wants to start over? What if he wants to get back to the way things were before?”

“When we were just little genin?”

“Sure.”

“Or,” you began after a moment, “he feels guilty and wants to clear his conscience.” That sounds more realistic.

“Ah, there you go being a grade-A pessimist again.” Kurenai chuckles with her hand covering her face. “How about we quit the speculation and just find out naturally?”

“Fine.” You sighed, putting your chin in your hand while gazing out the diner window.

“It’s tragic really.” Kurenai pondered, also staring out into the distance.

“What?” You looked at her confused.

“We should’ve gotten two orders of pancakes. I’m still hungry.” She complained.

You stared at her for a moment, unamused while she gave you a big, goofy grin.

Finally feeling yourself break into a smile, you laughed and threw your napkin at her face. “I swear the only things on your mind are Asuma and pancakes. You have a problem.”

“Ugh, not true!” She joked, pretending to be offended. “I also think about how nice it would be if my future maid of honor and Asuma’s future best man were in a happy, fulfilled relationship together.” She stated, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Shut up.”

“Careful, (Y/n),” she smiles, getting up from the table and taking your hand in hers, “at this rate your eyes are gonna roll out of your pretty head.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You mused, putting your arm over Kurenai’s shoulders as you stroll out of the diner, leaving money and a tip for your waiter.

“You never know, (Y/n).” Kurenai spoke as you made it outside. “Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind tonight, okay?”

You sighed, feeling stressed again about the training session.

“Yeah, okay,” you finally answered, turning to face her. “And you promise me you won’t tell anyone else about what happened last night, not even Kakashi can know that you know, okay?”

“I promise to not tell a soul.” She spoke sincerely. “I’ll see you tonight, my love.” She gave you a strong hug, a kiss on the cheek, and walked off in the direction of her apartment making sure to look back and give you a teasing wink.

You smiled and yelled after her, “People are gonna start thinking we’re lesbians if you keep that up!”

“Let them think what they want!” She yelled back without turning around.

And just like that, there you were, one of the strongest kunoichis of the Hidden Leaf, feared by many, standing alone on a busy street terrified to attend your training session tonight because of one silver-haired shinobi.

One very handsome, insanely smart, terrifyingly strong, porn-reading, sharingan-wielding, silver-haired shinobi.

That you cuddled.

Last night.

Shit.

#kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi fanfic #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi #kakashi fluff #kakashi imagine #naruto fanfiction #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi one shot #kakashi x yn #kakashi sensei #i found my light

[catrasredemption-moved]

Can you do a fic where catra gives birth without adora by her side and panics please

I feel like I can't do justice compared to the others that exist, but sure!

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

Adora hadn't wanted to go.

Catra hadn't really wanted to let her go, either. She was coming up on her eighth month of pregnancy, and every single nerve screamed in imagined agony when she wasn't in Adora's arms. She hated it - she had gotten over clinging to Adora years ago. But everyone assured it was okay. She was pregnant. She was allowed to want Adora right by her side all the time.

But this was important. Two ally planets were threatening to go to war, and there was a risk of Etheria ending up in the middle of it. Which, unfortunately, made it very much their problem. Normally, Glimmer would have brought Catra (who was surprisingly good at being diplomatic and talking people down), but Adora had flat out said no to the idea of her very pregnant wife going anywhere near a warzone. Catra would have argued, but that was fair, really. She felt the same way.

So Glimmer had taken Adora and Bow, with the hopes that the three of them would manage to calm everyone down. Catra had resisted the urge to point out that they hadn't even know what a coherent plan was before she joined them.

It sucked, watching the three people she trusted most clear Etheria's atmosphere and disappear into the stars. But after ten years, Catra no longer felt completely alone in the castle. Netossa and Spinnerella had agreed to stay in Bright Moon while Glimmer was gone; they had declared themselves the baby's aunts the minute Catra announced she was pregnant. Entrapta, after nearly two year of work, had managed to replicate Prime's teleportation technology to create teleporting points in each kingdom, so Scorpia could visit her bestie whenever she wanted. Micah had decided the new baby was going to be his grandchild (with a pointed look at Glimmer, who had rolled her eyes and informed him they were adopting), and was happy to look in on Catra every single hour, if she'd let him. She did not let him.

And they were great. They were all great. Catra loved all of them. But Adora's absence was an aching hole in her chest. She wanted her wife. She wanted her when she woke up at three in the morning, back screaming in pain, and there was no one she could ask to give her a massage, or even just hold her until she managed to fall back to sleep. She wanted to see the adoration in Adora's expression every time the baby kicked. She wanted to hear Adora's excited babbling as she told literally anyone who would listen about how they had just finished decorating the nursery, and it was so cute. She wanted Adora.

She really wanted Adora now, as she whimpered into her pillow, tightly clutching her swollen belly. Melog nuzzled her cheek, meowing nervously.

"No, it's fine," she mumbled. "It's nothing. Fake contractions, remember?"

That got her a very unimpressed meow in return. The fake contractions were sporadic and mildly painful, but this? This was a steady pain, pressing down on her uterus, coming approximately every ten minutes, as Melog kept reminding her. She reached out, pushing their snout away.

"I'm still three and a half weeks from my due date. It's fine."

Lying down wasn't a viable option; there was no comfortable position. She pushed herself out of bed, shuffling unsteadily around the room to try and relieve the constant ache on her back. Melog helped support her when she had to stop and lean on the wall, breathing heavily.

It wasn't fine.

"Fuck," she breathed, sliding down the wall, tears burning in her eyes. This couldn't be happening now. No. No no no no. Adora wasn't here. She didn't even know where Adora was. Not within communication range - Catra had already tried to call her. Who knew when she would be back. Catra was alone.

Not alone, Melog reminded her, nudging her shoulder. There were people here who could help her. A healer from Mystacor had even transferred to Bright Moon to be on hand for any emergencies, and the eventual delivery.

"Okay," she whispered. Melog nodded and disappeared. And she was alone.

She was alone.

Adora wasn't there. Adora wouldn't make it back in time. Her entire support system had relied on her wife, because why wouldn't it? Adora would be there. Adora didn't break her promises. Adora would be there.

Another contraction seized her, closing up her already struggling lungs. Tears pricked at her eyes as she wheezed uselessly. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe.

A hand rested on her shoulder. "Easy," Micah said, squeezing. "It's okay. You're okay. Can you breathe with me?"

He exaggerated his own breaths, giving Catra a guide to follow along. It took a few minutes, but finally she managed to take a shaky breath, curling in on herself. "Okay. Good. What's wrong?"

"I - I think I'm in labor," she admitted unwillingly. "And Adora isn't here, and she supposed to be here, she was so excited, I can't take this away from her, I can't - I'm the worst wife-"

Micah squeezed her shoulder again, cutting her off. "You can't control when this happens," he reminded her gently. "That doesn't make you a bad wife. Or mother for that matter." Was he a mind reader? "If Adora doesn't make it back in time, it's okay. I know she'll be disappointed, but she'll be here for everything else. And I know this is hard, but you have to relax a little. The stress isn't good for you or the baby. Take another breath for me. Please?"

Catra nodded, sucking in a breath and letting it out slowly. The bedroom door burst open, Netossa and Melog hurrying in. "Spinny is getting Ivy. Is it really time?"

"Think so," Micah said, taking Catra's hands and helping her stand. "Keep trying to call Darla. Hopefully we can get in touch as soon as they're back in communication range."

Melog brushed against Catra's leg, purring loudly. She scratched the back of their ears, smile turning to a grimace when the dull pain of contraction started to grip her again.

It was going to be okay.

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

"Adora?"

"Yeah?"

"Catra is never allowed to be pregnant again. That was the worst."

It turned out talking and being diplomatic was a lot harder than just punching things. It had taken nearly four days to negotiate a deal that made both planets happy and stopped a war. Adora was fairly certain defeating Horde Prime had been easier.

She and Glimmer were sprawled out on the floor, staring at the ceiling. Bow was slumped in the captain's seat, sleeping. Entrapta was working energetically at the console. She had gotten to spend the last week on Darla, since they all knew letting her try to talk to people was a nightmare. Adora wanted her energy.

"I'm so tired," Adora groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. Glimmer reached out to shove her shoulder.

"Aren't you the one about to have a newborn? You better rest up now, you'll never sleep again."

Adora laughed, ignoring the uncomfortable swoop in her stomach. She missed Catra. She hated that she'd had to leave. She just wanted to be back.

"Entering Etheria's atmosphere!" Entrapta called, as if reading Adora's mind. "ETA - oh."

The console was beeping. There was a call coming in. Entrapta tapped a few buttons, bringing up a large screen. It flickered to life, showing Netossa, who was looking at something off screen.

"Yes I'm sure I'm calling the right - oh!" She jumped when she saw the call had connected. "Hey, finally!"

"Is something wrong?" Glimmer asked, immediately sitting up. Adora shot up as well, suddenly shaking. Netossa chuckled nervously.

"Okay, don't freak out. But um... Catra had the baby."

"What?!" Adora's voice cracked. She practically sprinted across the flight deck, grabbing the screen. "Is she okay? Is the baby okay? How?!"

"Are you asking how the baby was born?"

Normally, Adora liked Netossa's humor. This was not normally. "Netossa!"

"Okay, sorry. She's okay, the baby is okay, they're both sleeping now. It got a little rough, and Catra might need a little more time to recover, but she's okay."

Adora felt lightheaded. She took a step back, sitting hard on the ground. Catra had the baby. The baby was born while she was gone.

"Um... ETA five minutes," Entrapta said, quickly hitting a few buttons on the console and speeding Darla up. Glimmer and Bow moved to sit on either side of Adora, hugging her tight.

"I missed it," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. She had one job, to be there when Catra gave birth, and she missed it. "She probably hates me."

"There is no way Catra hates you," Bow said confidently. "Trust me."

"She never stops talking about how much she loves you and how you're going to be a great mother," Glimmer added. "I share an office with her, I hear about it every single day. 'Adora stayed up all night painting the nursery, Adora's been practicing how to swaddle with some stuffed animals, she's trying to set a record swaddling time, Adora woke me up at three a.m. because she had her head on my stomach and was letting the baby kick her ear' - seriously, it never stopped. I tried to send her on maternity leave two months ago so she'd stop."

"But I-"

"I know, you missed it," Glimmer said, hugging Adora. "But Catra isn't going to be mad. She probably just wants you there now. It's going to be okay."

Adora scrubbed her eyes, sniffling. "Yeah. It'll be okay."

They landed, and Adora darted off the ship. Bow and Glimmer smartly decided they could visit later, and let her go.

Netossa and Spinerella were sitting outside of Adora's and Catra's room, playing a game on their tracker pad. They both gave Adora a grin when they saw her approaching.

"Hey Mom. How's it going?"

Adora slowed to a walk, hands shoved in her pockets to keep from fidgeting. "Is... Is Catra mad?"

"Is Catra ever not mad?"

Spinnerella elbowed Netossa. "She's a little upset, but mostly at herself. I think she'll be happier you're here, though."

"How long has it been?"

"About twelve hours."

Adora had barely missed it. She did her best to put on a brave smile. "Thanks for being here."

"Honestly, thank Micah. He's the only one besides Ivy who knew what was going on."

"And he didn't almost pass out," Spinnerella added, smiling wickedly at her wife. Netossa gave her an offended look.

"I did not almost pass out."

"You absolutely would have if I didn't drag you out."

Adora left the wives to their argument, carefully peeking into the room. Catra was sleeping, bundled up in a nest of pillows and blankets. Adora just barely got a look at her before she was being tackled. Melog nuzzled up to her, purring and licking her cheek. She laughed.

"Hi, Melog."

This was good, right? Melog always did this when Catra was feeling particularly needy but didn't want to say anything. Adora couldn't have been in too much trouble.

She stood, feeling a bit more emboldened, and toed off her boots before making her way across the room.

And she finally got her first look at her baby.

They were so small. A small mop of blonde hair barely hid twitching ears, little claws kneading mindlessly against Catra's chest. Their fur was a mix of Adora's skin and Catra's fur - a beautiful dark blonde that was absolutely the most amazing thing Adora had ever seen. She wanted to pick them up, to hold them, to feel their weight in her arms. But she also didn't want to disrupt this moment of pure tranquility.

Catra made a small noise, nose twitching, and one eye fluttered open. "Hey 'Dora," she mumbled sleepily. "Really left me t'do all the hard, huh?"

Adora pressed a hand to her lips to keep from laughing. "Mind if I join you?"

"Left enough room for you, didn't I?"

She had, Adora realized. A perfectly sized space right next to her for Adora to slide into. She tossed her jacket off and carefully slid in next to Catra. Her wife shifted slightly to snuggled into her chest.

"How're you feeling?"

"Tired. Your child is so difficult."

"Oh, my child?"

"Yup. Stubborn, just like you."

Adora finally reached out to brush a finger against one of their tiny paws. "Cute, though."

"Got that from me."

George and Lance, it turned out, had a surprisingly extensive knowledge about Magicats, and had been more than happy to educate Catra after they'd met her. One of the big things they'd learned was that Magicats didn't name their children before they were a year old (some superstition) and all babies used neutral pronouns until they were old enough to understand what gender was and could choose their own. Two more things Shadow Weaver had taken away from Catra. Two things she was determined to give their baby.

"Do you think I can..."

Catra rolled her eyes, yawning. "No, Adora, you can't hold your own child. Come on, seriously?"

"I just don't want to bother them!"

Adora was reaching out even as she said that, carefully scooping up the little bundle. They wiggled a bit, making a few distressed noises, but stopped when they were close enough to burrow into Adora's shirt. And if the baby hadn't owned Adora's heart before that moment, they certainly did now.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, to their baby and to Catra. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"M'sorry they were so impatient," Catra murmured, snuggling a bit closer to Adora now that she was free. S'okay, though. You're here now."

Yes, she was. And she'd be damned if she ever left this planet again. Why would she? Everything she needed was already here.

#Sam Writes #askbox fic #pregnancy cw #vague descriptions of labor #Catradora

[mynumberfivethings]

The Hargreeves realize Five does, in fact, love them.

The Handler laughs and it’s an ugly, harsh sound. “You fight so hard for them.” she coos at Five. “And for what? Not a single one of them would bat an eye if you decided to go up and missing again-you’re smart enough to know that.” 

Five pretends her words don’t sting the way they do. He scoffs. “Is there a point to this monologuing?” 

“I have to ask,” The Handler continues on as though she hadn’t heard him utter a single word. “Are their sad, pathetic lives-their so called happiness-is that really worth your life?” 

Five folds his arms across his chest. “You don’t really care.” 

She waltzes across the room and leans forward when she’s within reach of the man trapped in the body of a pubescent child. “True.” The Handler runs the back of her hand slowly down Fives cheek, her lips upturned by the subtle little flinch that doesn’t escape her notice. “Call it curiosity.” she says. “You are nothing but a faint-perhaps even unpleasant-memory, to those you call a family. And worse still, now you’re just the boy who cried ‘apocalypse’, who appeared to ruin and burden their lives right at the final hour.” 

“I’m just trying to stop the end of humanity as we know it.” Five shrugs in an attempt to brush off her comments. “I don’t see what one has to do with the other.” 

The Handler raises an intelligent brow. “Is that so?” she grins, her lips puckering. “Then I have wonderful news for you.” she swivels around and practically skips back over to her desk. She holds up a single manilla folder. “Do you know what this is?” 

“I’m sure you’ll shine a light on that soon enough.” Five sighs, teleporting across the room so that he’s sitting with one leg crossed over the other atop her desk behind her. He revels in the way she jumps in surprise-though she does a decent job of hiding it. 

She turns to face him. “This,” The Handler says, “Is the only way the Temps Commission will ever let you, Five, alter the timeline to stop the apocalypse, without making a whole big fuss over it.” She hands him the file without any qualms and Five knows there’s a catch. 

There’s always a catch. 

He flips it open to view the contents, all the while keeping one eye on The Handler, in case she were to try anything. He stares at the letters and the numbers on the page and it all makes terrible sense. Five closes the folder abruptly and rips the entire thing in half several times over, tossing the remains onto the floor. 

“That’s your final answer?” The Handler shakes her head in disappointment. “So much wasted potential. You could have been great.” She makes a show of looking down at her watch. “Would you look at the time. I should get going, but if you change your mind,” she boops his nose. “You know where to find me. Now, remember to close up behind you.” And just like that, she’s gone, brushing her dress down and adjusting her hat before heading out. 

The silence lasts about ten seconds before the storage door bursts open and his siblings clamor out, gasping for air. “God, it was so cramped in there! And Luthers giant ass was hogging up all the space!” Diego complains. 

Luther ignores the jab and crouches down to take a look at the file-now in pieces on the white granite tiles. “Why wouldn’t you take the deal? Whatever’s in this thing could solve everything! No more apocalypse!” 

Vanya nods. “Luther’s right Five, we should at least consider-” 

“It’s garbage, forget it. We need to focus on finding a way out of-” 

Allison interrupts Five. “Ok well, I’d like to know what this ‘garbage’ solution to the literal end of the world is before we veto it.” she helps Luther and Vanya piece together the folder. 

“We don’t have time-” 

“This is...” Allison stares at the ‘solution’ in her hands once they’ve managed to make it whole again. “What the hell?” 

“To save the world we need to get rid of...us?” Vanya frowns. There in black and white ink, it states, that to stop the apocalypse without repercussion, the Hargreeves must be eliminated from the current timeline.

Luther shakes his head. “Why would she offer you this? A suicide mission?” 

Allison looks at Five, having worked it all out. “It’s not a suicide mission, though. She offered him a job-kill us and he stops the apocalypse once and for all, and probably a cushy position here at the agency, no?” 

Diego whistles low. “And you didn’t take it? Not that I’m complaining. Real happy to still be alive and kicking but damn.” Stopping the apocalypse-that awful thing he was forced to live through for so long?-that’s been Five’s single minded goal this entire time, right? It doesn’t make sense. 

Klaus teasingly says, “Aw, guys, I think maybe old man Five loves us?” 

Five swipes the tattered file from Allisons hands and dumps the pieces into the trash can beside The Handlers desk. “No shit.” he bites out. “Look, we’re wasting time, everyone gather around, we need to get out of here.” He turns around only to be engulfed in the giant arms of his biggest brother, Luther, who lifts him off his feet in the hug. “Luther, what the hell?” he kicks out in an attempt to be put back on solid ground, with zero success. 

“Dude, you do love us.” Diego grins, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “You totally just admitted that shit.” 

The others quickly join in what is definitely now a group hug. Five sighs, realizing he’s trapped and that no amount of squirming will help. “I should have taken the deal.” 

Vanya squeezes him a little tighter from behind. “But ya didn’t. Cause you looove us.” 

#long post #drabble #ficlet #tua #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five loves his family #hargreeves family #the handler #hargreeves siblings #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #number five

[marvelyningreen]

Late-bloomer

[Summary: Professor Xavier once said that there was much more in you than you knew. You weren’t sure what he’d meant by that. Then again, when push comes to shove, who knows?

Warnings: mild language, references to injury

Notes: Peter Maximoff x reader, of the low-key established relationship variety. Sequel to “Linger.” ]

“You are gonna come with, aren’t you? Please?” Peter had laced his fingers through yours, swinging your hand playfully. “The professor thinks you’re ready, and I wanna be there for your first mission!”

The better part of a year had passed since Professor Xavier promised to spend more time helping you master your abilities and, true to his word, he devoted time every week to training you. To your own surprise – if not to anyone else’s – you’ve actually been improving. While you sometimes still feel that you’re behind the curve, you can’t deny that you’re much stronger than you used to be.

For your part, you kept your promise to the professor.

You’d always been too intimidated to speak to Jean, but one morning, you psyched yourself up and did it. You asked to sit with her at breakfast, and initiated a fumbling conversation that was mostly about the weather. Scott seemed baffled – and frankly embarrassed for you – but from across the room, Peter gave you a thumbs-up.

You did manage to find out that Jean’s fond of phlox and peonies, and resolved to add more to the garden. You must’ve thought it pretty loudly, because Jean caught your eye and smiled. She greets you when you pass in the hallways now.

You’d overheard Kurt mention that a certain disused alcove was probably once a little Mary garden. He’d sounded wistful to you. You did your homework, bringing in a small statue of Mary and filling the surrounding flowerbeds with irises, lilies, and roses.

The next time you saw Kurt in the gardens, you casually suggested that he walk over that way, trying hard not to sound like a try-hard and hoping that you hadn’t overstepped yourself. Not two minutes later, Kurt suddenly teleported in front of you and hugged you before you could say a word. Now, you often see him go out there to pray. Sometimes, you join him.

Summers are fairly quiet at the school. The students who were able to would go home for summer vacation. Some elected to stay around to further their training and some, sadly, didn’t really have homes to return to.

Your summer project has been an effort to revitalize the mansion’s disused kitchen gardens. You let the remaining students know that anyone who wants to is welcome to help out, and the response so far has been enthusiastic. You haven’t had any shortage of volunteers to help with the planting and weeding and watering. Some of the faculty joined in as well, when they were between missions. You think you might able to get a head-start on replanting the orchard.

And Peter, well…

Peter may not be inclined to gardening himself, but he’s definitely inclined to hang out with you while you garden. Apparently, you’d been the last to figure out that Peter was smitten with you, so it was to the surprise of no one when it was clear you two were seeing each other.

He’d even volunteered to help with your training. Of course, he was almost immediately banned from using the “think fast!” technique, if only because he was way too nice about it. The second it looked like you weren’t going to catch whatever he’d tossed in your direction, he’d zip in and catch it himself so it wouldn’t hit you. It was adorable, but not exactly helpful to your learning process.

He’d be gone for weeks at a time, though. He would get sent on missions here and there, and he took summer as an opportunity to spend time with his mother and sister. Your windowsills are beginning to fill up from all the souvenirs he brought back.

Just this morning, you’d promised him homemade apple strudel for breakfast, and he’d mentioned he might bring someone else along, if that was alright with you. You’d assumed that meant Kurt was coming home early. But no, Peter turned up at your door with Mr. Lehnsherr in tow.

It might’ve been nice to have a little advance notice so you could make a good first impression on your boyfriend’s very intimidating father – who happens to be an ex-supervillain – but at least Peter’s easygoing confidence managed to keep things from getting awkward.

And somehow – somehow – the offshoot of all this was that you and Mr. Lehnsherr both ended up tagging along on this mission. Whether it was the professor’s reassurance that it was strictly a diplomatic errand or Peter’s puppy-dog eyes that were more convincing, neither of you could say.

You’d managed to convince yourself that this was fine. The professor wouldn’t have brought you if he didn’t think you were ready, right? And all of your doubts were in your own head; you knew that. Nobody was looking at you and wondering why they’d brought the help along. Peter, who for some reason seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to spend time with you and Mr. Lehnsherr simultaneously, stuck close to you and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

And then everything went all to hell before you could blink.

Now you’re trying to telekinetically prevent a net-full of plastic waste barrels from falling into the harbor, Scott has just lasered a third shipping container in half, Mr. Lehnsherr is turning the wreckage into a makeshift holding cell, and Peter is zipping around tossing your assailants into it.

And just when everything’s finally been safely contained and you think you’ve got a second to breathe, the professor speaks up.

“I’ve lost Hank.”

The fairly upbeat mood darkens instantly.

“One of those guys was running psychic interference, wasn’t he?” says Peter.

“Yeah, but he got knocked out,” says Scott. “Nice shot, by the way.”

That last part is directed at you, with an approving nod.

“We’ll find him, Charles,” says Mr. Lehnsherr. “He can’t be far.”

“I’ll take a look around,” says Peter.

He disappears, and there’s a second or two of silence. The professor presses his fingertips to his temple and glances around worriedly, as if listening all the harder for any trace of Hank. Before you can suggest heading back to your transport, you hear Peter shout.

“Over this way! Hurry!”

Wordlessly, you all take off at a run. He’d only said to hurry. He hadn’t said that Hank was alright, which can only mean…

As you round the corner, you gasp in horror. There lies Hank – injured, unconscious, and bleeding out on the ground. As one, you all rush to his side, but Peter’s there in a blink.

“I can run him back to the mansion,” he begins, but Mr. Lehnsherr interrupts.

“If we move him before we stabilize him, it might kill him.”

Peter had looked worried up until this moment, not panicked. But at the thought that his particular skills won’t help here, his expression turns grim.

“If we don’t get help, he’ll die anyway,” Scott argues.

As the others speak, the floor seems to tilt under you, and you sink to your knees just to keep yourself from falling. You press your hands against the cold pavement, trying to steady yourself.

Is it because of the blood? No, it’s something else. Something pressing against your skull.

Hank, who’d always been kind to you, who’d become like family to Scott after Alex was killed. Hank, who’d been giddy as a schoolboy all week waiting for Saturday, when he was going to take Mystique out on a real date – dinner at a fancy restaurant, just the two of them.

It isn’t fair.

You feel Peter’s hands on your shoulders. You feel sick, like you’re about to faint, like you’re seeing double, like-

You are seven years old, playing out in your yard. A windstorm the night before has knocked several baby birds from their nest. The mama bird hops nearby, chirping and calling to no avail. You watch as the baby birds, featherless and helpless, struggle in the grass.

You feel a horrible crushing sadness in your chest. You’ve been told never to touch baby birds, and even if you did, there’s no way you could climb all the way up to their nest.

A heartbroken sob shakes your body. It isn’t fair. The birds are too small to fly, and too weak to defend themselves. And you’re too small, too.

It isn’t fair. You should be able to fix this. You should be able to help.

You aren’t allowed to touch wild animals. Why couldn’t there be a way to help without breaking the rules?

You reach out, and –

The mama bird shrills in alarm. Your sobs fade, and your eyes widen, and you watch as the little birds are lifted into the air – up and up and up – and set gently back in their nest. You know somehow, although you don’t understand, that you made it happen.

“I can fix this.”

The words leave your mouth before you know you’re speaking, and suddenly the others are staring at you in confusion. They know, as you do, that you don’t have any healing abilities, and yet… There’s an inexplicable certainty in your mind, in spite of the panic in your chest.

“I can fix this,” you say again, “But I don’t know how.”

You turn away from Hank, looking up at Professor Xavier. There’s worry in his eyes, and something unreadable along with it.

“Sir, please, can you help me?” you plead.

The professor nods, and reaches out to place his fingertips on your temple. Almost of their own accord, your eyes close, and your hand reaches out to Hank’s shoulder.

Through the chaos of your fear, there’s a calm presence in your mind.

Focus, it bids you. You can fix this. You can change it. Reach out to that which is damaged, and make it whole. Focus.

You reach out, and your mind is overwhelmed with a sensation that it struggles to comprehend. You’d thought that trying to use your powers was like trying to remember the words to a song. You see now that that’s not quite accurate. It feels like having heard a song played backwards your whole life, and finally hearing it the right way ‘round.

You are thirteen. A girl in your class has just seen her friend get pushed down the stairs by a bully. The girl shouts, and suddenly the granite steps rearrange themselves into a ramp, and the landing turns to sand, and the friend slides down into it unharmed.

The girl runs off before you have a chance to say anything. The following week, she doesn’t show up for class. You learn later that her family moved away.

You’re afraid, and you don’t understand, and you keep going. The effort of focusing is immense, impossible. You hardly know if you’re remembering to breathe, or if the pressure is inside your skull or around it.

You feel… What you feel defies description. It’s as though you’re at a beach, and you press your hand against the sand, and you can feel the pattern, the structure in the seemingly random grains of sand, and you know that it isn’t right. And if you focus – if you focus all your energy – you can will the millions and millions of grains of sand to rearrange themselves into the right order.

For a moment, the sheer vastness of the situation threatens to overwhelm you. But the professor’s steadying presence stays in your mind, like a hand holding yours as you lean further and further out over a ledge. Slowly, grain by grain, the sands are beginning to shift.

You’re in college. Yet another class has devolved into a debate about mutants – their existence, their rights, their purpose.

You don’t speak up in class under normal circumstances. That isn’t about to change now.

A voice, outside your head, drifts through the garbled static in your ears.

“His wounds are healing. He’s… he’s stabilizing. Charles, how-?”

You’re vaguely aware that the professor is answering him out loud, but you hear him in your mind: Come back now. Come back. You’ve done it; just relax.

Relax? You can try. The strange sensations fade from your mind, and their place is filled by the sounds of the world around you and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. It feels as though the hand has pulled you back onto solid ground, but you can’t seem to keep your balance, and-

The instant you begin to fall, you find your head resting against somebody’s shoulder, and their arms are wrapped around you.

You’re twenty-five, and the entire world is shaken to its foundations by some catastrophe in Cairo. You try with all your strength, but nothing you do can prevent your apartment building from collapsing.

“Professor…?” Peter’s voice is beside your ear, strident with worry, but it seems so much further away.

“It’s alright, Peter,” you hear the professor saying, dimly.

You’ll be alright.

You are twenty-six. It’s far too quiet in this room. This building may function as a school, but it still feels like a mansion. You stare at the cup of tea in front of you. It smells wonderful, but you’re too nervous to take a single sip. Across the table, Professor Charles Xavier regards you with a thoughtful expression.

“I understand you wish to work here at my school. Is that right?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say. “I know I’m too old to be a student, and I don’t really have any experience teaching, but I… I want to learn, and I’m willing to work. If there’s any job that needs doing, anything at all; if you need a custodian, or help in the kitchens, or… or a groundskeeper, maybe. Anything.”

Your gaze darts longingly to the gardens outside the window. The grounds here are so beautiful. It’s one of the things you missed most when you lived in the apartment – having a garden to look after.

The professor takes a sip of tea and sits back.

“My school is open to anyone who wishes to learn,” he says. “What are your abilities, exactly?”

“My…? Well.” Your heart sinks. You were afraid of this.

Painfully aware of the professor’s eyes on you, you telekinetically lift your spoon into the air. Focus, now. Focus. The spoon dips into the sugar bowl, and – spilling a trail of sugar along the way – shakily hovers back to your teacup and stirs itself in before returning to the saucer with a loud clink.

“I know it’s not much,” you say, “But that’s why I want to learn.”

With hands trembling as badly as the spoon had, you pick up the teacup and take a sip, just to buy yourself a precious few seconds.

The professor nods. “I see.”

He leans his chin on his hand. You’re certain that you’ve failed. Just as you’re bracing yourself to hear him politely send you packing –

“We hire a local company to maintain the grounds,” he says, “But the gardens themselves could use better tending, especially from someone who cares about the work. There’s even a little groundskeeper’s cottage that’s only being used to storage now, if you need somewhere to stay. The job is yours, if you want it.”

You can’t believe your ears. Professor Xavier – the Professor Charles Xavier – is offering you a job, and a chance to learn, and a place to stay? You nearly upset the whole tea set as you stand abruptly, reaching across the table to shake the professor’s hand.

“Yes! Absolutely, yes,” you say, “Sir, thank you. I’ll work hard, I promise.”

The professor laughs. “I don’t doubt it.”

-

Are you ready to wake up?

No, you mumble. Five more minutes.

The voice in your head chuckles gently.

It’s been three days already.

Three days? Ridiculous. No one would’ve let you sleep for three whole days. The gardens would be overrun with weeds. The windowboxes would’ve dried up. Indignant, you open your eyes.

And immediately squint them shut again. The intense brightness of the room stings.

You feel a hand lift from your forehead, and a shadow falls over your eyes and lingers there. Beyond its merciful shade, you can tell that the light in the room has dimmed. Cautiously, you open your eyes once more, blinking a few times.

You’re disoriented for a moment, expecting to see the familiar walls of your room in the cottage. But this rather featureless room is in the infirmary beneath the mansion. You don’t have the faintest idea what you’d be doing there.

The hand shading your eyes withdraws, and you follow its movement to see Professor Xavier looking down at you. He smiles.

“Welcome back.”

“Back?” you repeat. “Back from wh- … wait.”

You remember. You remember all of it – the docks, the blood… Hank.

You have to get up. You have to find Hank.

The professor catches your shoulder, preventing you from sitting up.

“Easy. Easy, there,” he says.

“What happened? Where’s Hank? Professor, did I… Is he-?”

The professor speaks slowly and gently, like he’s calming a frightened child. And to be honest, that’s exactly what you feel like in this moment.

“Hank is fine,” he says, “He’ll need to take it easy for a while, but he’s going to make a full recovery. You saved his life.”

Relief floods through you, tightening your throat. For a moment, you don’t trust that your voice is steady enough to speak. You look away from the professor’s kind gaze and blink back tears. You’d been so scared that a good man might’ve died because you and the others were too late to save him. You’d been certain that, once again, you were powerless to help.

“I don’t understand what happened” you say, finally, “All of that… Was it you, Professor?”

He shakes his head.

“All I did was help you keep your focus. Everything else was you entirely. Didn’t I say that there’s more in you than you would guess?”

“I… I figured you were just saying that to be nice.”

Your sheepish honesty makes the professor laugh, and that puts you a little more at ease.

“I said it because it’s true.” He pauses, then continues on to answer your unasked question. “Hank has some rather complicated term for your abilities, but the more common expression for it is a reality warper. Telekinesis is merely the simplest manifestation of those powers.”

“Reality…? I’m still confused,” you say, and it’s the understatement of the century. The sporadic, barely-adequate telekinetic abilities you’d possessed since childhood weren’t really telekinesis at all?

“Within limits, you have the ability to alter reality. For example, it would be simple enough for you to change an apple into an orange, or freeze the water in a glass. It follows that you are able to take something damaged and repair it again. And if the damage is an injury, you could heal it. Of course, Hank was quite badly injured, so undoing the damage required tremendous exertion on your part.”

Your head is spinning as you try to process all of this. You can change things, transform them, fix them.

Your gaze drifts to Professor Xavier’s wheelchair.

If you can heal people, then maybe…

But when you look up, the professor is shaking his head.

“As I said, there are limits even to powers like yours.”

“But if I tried,” you say, “Maybe I could-”

“No.” The professor’s tone is firm. “You’ve been unconscious for days, and that was from healing recent injuries. Something new is more easily altered than something old. And an old wound… It’d only do you harm to try. I can’t allow you to do that, even for my own sake.”

The confused elation you’d been feeling starts to flag. You’ve been so used to feeling useless that it’s easy to slip back into that familiar territory. It startles you when Professor Xavier lays his hand on yours.

“Someday, you may be able to accomplish that and more,” he says, and laughs gently. “I’ve just told you that you have the power to reshape the world, and the first though that comes to your mind isn’t a way to use it for gain or entertainment. Your first impulse is to use it to help someone. I’m touched. Truly, I am. Thank you for thinking of me.”

There’s a deeper warmth in his voice as he says this, and you cannot doubt that he’s speaking from the heart. He’d know – he must’ve known, somehow – what you were when you came to him, offering to take on any job that needed doing just for a chance to learn. On some level, you’d always assumed he hired you out of pity.

But things are becoming clearer now – why he’d accepted you, why he hadn’t told you what you were, why he’d let you find your own way.

You’ve known the professor long enough to understand that his decisions are motivated by kindness. He had no choice in gaining immense powers at a young age, himself. Jean was just the same. You couldn’t fault him for wanting to spare someone else that burden.

The professor must be following your train of thought, because he nods slightly.

“I always had faith that your path would lead you here,” he says, “And that whatever the circumstance, you would come into your own out of an earnest desire to help others. That’s exactly what you did. I’m proud of you.”

Your hand closes around the professor’s for a brief, fervent instant.

“Thank you,” you say.

The sincerity of this validation warms your heart. You blink rapidly, trying to keep yourself from actually tearing up, when –

“Awww…”

You’re startled by the sound of another voice in the room. You look sharply over to see Peter sitting in the corner, his feet kicked up on a table.

“Peter!” you gasp, “How long have you been there?”

He shrugs. “The whole time. You just never looked over this way. And it seemed like you two were having a moment, so I didn’t wanna interrupt. Good morning, by the way.”

“Good… morning,” you say, haltingly, suddenly realizing that you have no idea what time it is.

Peter grins and pushes himself to his feet, walking over to stand at your bedside. The professor watches him with a smile.

“Peter’s hardly left this whole time,” he says.

“Not true,” says Peter. “I went out to try and help keep up on your groundskeeper stuff. Don’t, uh… Don’t look too impressed. I don’t actually know what’s a weed and what’s not, so I might’ve pulled up a bunch of your flowers. Sorry.”

Oh god, you can just picture the state the gardens must be in. You’re going to have a lot of work to undo whatever happened out there. But the mental image of Peter speed-weeding the entire estate is too amusing not to smile at.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you say.

“Tell that to the geraniums,” says the professor, shaking his head wryly. “Well, I’d better go tell Hank that you’re finally awake. I’m sure he’ll want to thank you in person. I’ll be back.”

The professor could’ve easily just called for Hank telepathically. You get the feeling he’s being polite and trying to give you and Peter a moment alone.

You start to sit up, and wow, apparently that’s a bad idea, because the room is no spinning. You close your eyes, reaching out as if to steady yourself against thin air. In an instant, Peter’s sitting on the edge of the bed, gently holding onto your arms.

“Whoa, take it easy,” he says. “I got you.”

You take a moment to breathe, and the dizziness slowly fades. “It’s okay. Just headrush.”

When you open your eyes, Peter’s still watching you intently. Never fully letting go, he moves his hands to hold yours.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Alright, actually. Just… tired. Not in a bad way.”

You smile, hoping it’ll reassure him, and it seems to work. Peter leans in to kiss you.

“Who’s exceptional and important and incredible now?” He grins brightly as he tosses your own words back at you.

“That’s not- You don’t- Um…”

He laughs as you trip over your tongue completely. You’d always felt a little inadequate in the face of compliments, and that’s a lot of them to accept all at once.

Peter rolls his eyes. “Alright, fine. Bite-sized compliments from now on. Got it. But you are all of that. I always knew you were.”

Though his tone is teasing, the look in his eyes is entirely sincere. And, to your surprise, you believe him. There’s not an insincere bone in his body; you know that for a fact. So, it stands to reason that his feelings about you must be just as genuine.

The rush of that feeling – the confidence in Peter, and in yourself – puts on you cloud nine, almost literally. You have to focus to keep yourself from actually levitating everything in the room.

“I can’t believe I’m just figuring all this out now,” you say. “I mean, I’m thirty, for crying out loud.”

“And I lived in my mom’s basement until I was twenty-seven. What’s your point?” says Peter, shrugging. “Just ‘cause it took us a little longer to figure things out – we both still got there in the end. Late-bloomer solidarity, am I right?”

“Late-bloomer solidarity,” you repeat, grinning back at him. “Wait, do you think this means I’m gonna be an official X-Man now?”

Peter’s face lights up. “Hell yeah, you are! I’m officially calling dibs on having you as a partner. Hey, have you thought about what your codename’s gonna be?”

Your brows furrow in a look of confusion that Peter seems to find amusing. You actually hadn’t thought about it at all. You never thought you’d get this far, really.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” you say.

“Yeah, you’ve got a lot going for you. You’re a jack of all trades, a wild card. Oh!” Peter snaps his fingers excitedly. “Wild Card. That’s a good one. You don’t have to pick right now, but… I’m just sayin’- if you don’t pick your own, somebody’s gonna pick one for you.”

You grin. “That’s true. I mean, look at you. You’re fast, you’re full of sass, and you love sugar. In another life, you might’ve been The Amazing Hummingbird.”

The look of disgust on Peter’s face is priceless. “That’s tragic, and I’m offended.”

You can’t help but giggle.

“I like Quicksilver,” you say. “I think it suits you.”

You run your fingers through Peter’s hair, and he seems to melt. He turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand.

“You don’t know how glad I am that you’re back,” he says. “I didn’t realize just how boring this place can get without you.”

In spite of Peter’s frank expression, you can’t quite believe that. As a fairly reserved gardener, you know you’re not exactly the life of the party.

“Without me?” You laugh. “Be serious.”

Peter snorts. “Right, right. Baby steps. I forgot.”

By chance, your gaze drifts to the far side of the room, where Peter had been sitting before. You just now notice that there’s a cot set up over there, and it’s clearly been slept in. He really had stayed down here for the past three days, hadn’t he? It gives you kind of a warm fuzzy feeling that he’d wanted to stay close to you.

When you look back at Peter, you see that he’s frowning slightly.

“Y’know, you had me worried for a minute there, back at the docks. I mean, the professor explained that you just exhausted yourself because you never changed anything that big before, but…” Peter blows out a breath, shaking his head. “It really looked like you pulled some sorta equivalent exchange healing thing, and I thought, like, what if this is it? I guess what I’m trying to say is – there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Before you can ask what he means, Peter leans in and kisses you.

“I love you,” he says.

You wonder if this is how Peter feels when he uses his powers – like being the only person truly awake while the rest of the world is frozen in time. In spite of yourself, you feel the gravity in the room loosen its hold just a little, and everything’s floating gently an inch off the ground.

“I love you, too, Peter,” you say.

The trace of apprehension in Peter’s face melts into a smile.

“Even though I wrecked your geraniums?” he asks, sheepishly.

“I can find more geraniums. There’ll never be another you.”

At that, Peter actually looks bashful. Is he… is he blushing? He absolutely is. Gently, you take his face in your hands, and even as you kiss him, he can’t seem to stop smiling.

#peter maximoff x reader #x men fanfiction #peter maximoff #mostly the result of my mind latching onto the idea of creating a character that’s the antithesis of a jean grey #not meant as a criticism of jean or anything #just... we get quite a few ‘my powers are too strong!’ x men characters #I was intrigued by the thought of a mutant who sucks at being a mutant #a true late bloomer if you will XP #if they existed in canon everyone would mistake them for an ordinary human at first #I also definitely thought out a scenario in which they’d become a villain #but that’s a story for probably never XP #just shouting into the void #peter maximoff fanfiction

[stargaze-sunflower]

✨Triplet bonding!!✨

Summary: Louie is worried that he's being left behind.

Ao3 Link     Word Count: 1913

Somewhere in another room in the mansion – somewhere far enough away so as not to startle him but still close enough to hear – a clock chimed midnight.

Louie was sitting huddled on the ground against the wall near the front door, his hood over his head and his phone in his lightly shaking hands, staring don at the lit screen displaying countless unanswered texts. He’d been trying to contact Huey and Dewey for hours; casually at first, but then growing more and more restless.

Sometime around noon, Huey, Dewey, and Webby had left the house, going somewhere to do something. They hadn’t told him where they were going, and they certainly hadn’t invited him, so it was safe to say that it was meant to be an adventurous outing.

And while Louie didn’t want to go, he also didn’t want to be left behind. He didn’t want to be in danger, but he didn’t want his family to be in danger either, so there was really no way to win. There was no angle out.

His siblings used to ask him if he wanted to go, of course, and sometimes he could get up the nerve to shrug and agree, but other times he’d feign apathy and decline. Somewhere along the way, ‘no’ became the only answer he could give, and he supposed that it only made sense that they’d eventually stop asking. He’d known that it would happen, he’d known for a while, but it still stung to watch them leave and not know why.

Huey or Dewey or Webby used to tell him all about their plans – which would surely go south, at some point – and then they’d invite him to come along. Louie would be frozen for several seconds, fighting with himself and trying not to let it show on his face. If he said yes, he’d spend the day choking on terror and wishing he’d said no; if he said no, he’d spend the day tense and worried and distracted, wishing he’d said yes.

The more he said yes, the more frequently bad things happened to him, and the more he wanted to say no. It was a vicious cycle and a dangerous game, one that he never seemed to win. He dreaded the question being asked, but he equally dreaded the day they’d stop asking – the day they finally gave up on him.

And that day had finally come, the realization dawning on him as he watched his siblings leave the house together with no indication of where they were going. His heart had plummeted to an all-time low, and it hurt even though he’d seen it coming.

He’d held out for about an hour before he gave in and texted to check on them. Webby didn’t have a phone, so he’d been left attempting to text his brothers on and off for the rest of the day, to no avail. His messages became increasingly frantic, in a lowkey ‘Louie’ kind of way. Eventually, he found Dewey’s phone in their shared room, because he’d apparently forgotten it in his rush to leave the house on an adventure that Louie hadn’t been—

Anyway. He focused his efforts on Huey, who continued to not answer. And that wasn’t normal, because Huey always answered, especially when it was family. Around the time the sun went down, Louie’s messages stopped sending altogether, and his panic had overwhelmed him so much that he’d sat on Huey’s bed for an hour just trying to calm down.

Then he’d paced in their room for an unknown amount of time before finally giving in and going downstairs to stand watch by the front door. He continued his pacing for a while, but eventually his knees became too shaky and his breaths were coming too fast and shallow, so he’d pulled his hood over his head and hunched down against the wall in an attempt to make himself as small as he felt, which in reality would be physically impossible without Gyro’s shrinking ray.

The clock chimed midnight, and Louie’s resolve to not completely break down crumbled. Walls only held for so long, after all, and his had been flimsy to begin with.

Tears collected in his eyes and dripped down his face, not at all deterred by him closing them. The ball of nerves that had been strangling his lungs expanded and squeezed tighter, writhing like a living thing, and he brought his hands up over his heart as if that would help, as if his hands could ever do anything but hurt.

His phone clattered to the floor, the screen going dark and leaving Louie alone in the shadows. He gasped at the sound of it hitting the ground, irrationally startled by it and it put him even more on edge. He buried his head in his knees, crying like he was five years old and Huey and Dewey had gone to play a game without him.

He missed them. He missed Huey, he missed Dewey, he missed Webby. He—

“Louie?”

He’d missed the sound of the door opening.

Louie stiffened at the voice, even though he’d been wanting to hear it for hours now. He stayed still for a moment, staring at his legs at he listened to the hesitant shuffling of the people who’d just come inside. He felt cold and too warm at the same time.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder suddenly, and he jumped a bit, finally lifting his head to make hesitant eye contact with Huey, who was kneeling in front of him with a terribly concerned look in his eyes, which were not-so-subtly checking him for any kind of injury. Dewey was standing behind him, fidgeting from side to side. Louie looked away and sniffed, hugging his knees tighter to his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Huey asked, worry making his voice higher pitched than it usually was. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Louie shook his head, certain that his voice would break if he tried to talk, and he wiped at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, making an effort to pull himself back together. Now that he didn’t have to worry about his brother’s safety, he could start worrying about how on earth he was going to explain what they’d walked in on.

“No, I— I’m not hurt. Nothing happened,” Louie said, and he cleared his voice when it came out weak hoarse. He tried for a wry smile, but was certain that it fell flat. “Welcome home?”

Huey’s brow furrowed, and he fully plopped down in front of him, sitting cross legged and moving his hand from his shoulder to hold Louie’s own, because Huey probably remembered that that helped, when Louie was overwhelmed.

“This doesn’t seem like nothing,” Dewey said, speaking up for the first time as he came closer. “It seems like a lot of something.”

Louie glanced at his brother as he dropped down to sit next to him against the wall, and without really thinking about it, Louie drifted a little closer.

“It wasn’t a lot of something,” Louie said quietly, when it seemed like no one else was going to talk. “It was more like— like too much of nothing.”

No siblings, no information, no texts. Nothing.

“Where did you go?” Louie changed course, trying to ask the question without making it sound like an accusation.

He couldn’t see it, but he could tell that Huey and Dewey had shared a look. Louie hunched a little further in on himself, already feeling like he shouldn’t have asked, even though chances were that his brothers didn’t mind.

“Okay, so, it’s kind of a long story,” Dewey began, a little awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “You’ve seemed a little down lately, so we wanted to surprise you with, like, a cupcake or something, but then Webby saw a thrift store or antique shop or whatever it was, and she thought she could find you some shiny stuff you might like—”

“Long story short, we stumbled across a cursed object and dealt with the consequences for ten hours straight,” Huey interrupted, and Louie finally noticed that his brother was missing his hat. “The thing kept teleporting us to random parts of the world, and teleporting back to us if we tried to throw it away, and it was really just a whole mess. My phone was fried.”

“Oh,” Louie said weakly, unsure of which emotion to feel. There was warmth that his siblings cared enough to want to do something nice, and there was worry that even a simple outing turned dangerous so quickly, and there was sheepishness at how much he felt he’d overreacted. “I guess that’s why you didn’t answer the phone, huh?”

“You were trying to call me?” Huey asked, and Louie shrugged tiredly. “Why?”

“I was worried,” Louie said, which didn’t cover even half of what he’d been feeling, but he was too exhausted to really get into it. It explained enough anyway; Huey and Dewey would know what he meant.

“Oh,” Huey said, sounding a little guilty, and Louie squeezed his hand.

“It’s fine,” said Louie, heading off any apology at the pass. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Dewey grabbed his other hand, and Louie found himself leaning into him, smiling a little when Dewey switched to hugging instead. Huey was remarkably good at comforting Louie with words, but Dewey gave the best hugs. Not that he would ever tell him that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Huey asked, and Louie opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed.

“…Not tonight,” Louie answered, blinking slowly and yawning, offering Huey a tired smile. “Sleep would be better.”

Huey met Dewey’s eyes above his head, a twinkle in his eye, and Louie didn’t have time to protest before Dewey was picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder.

“Wha— Dewey!” Louie hissed, as quietly as he could. ”Put me down!”

“Nerp!” Dewey shot back enthusiastically, shifting Louie so that he was getting more of a piggyback ride than a fireman’s carry. “We’re gonna hang blankets from my bunk and sleep in yours.”

Louie sighed and went limp except for his arms, which he linked around Dewey’s neck as they started to their room. Huey walked past them with an amused smirk on his face and fond eyes, and Louie glared playfully.

“Are we inviting Webby to this sleepover?” Louie asked sarcastically.

“Of course!” Huey said, smiling back at them. “She would’ve come in with us, but she wanted to climb through the second floor window.”

Louie chuckled a little, feeling his breathing finally return to a healthy speed.

“I was wondering about that,” Louie said, grinning a little. “I guess you didn’t lose her in some faraway place, then.”

“’Course not,” Dewey said lightly, completely unaware that he was about to say something very important. “No one gets left behind in this family! That’s like, the number one rule.”

Louie blinked, the last of the tension melting out of his frame. No one gets left behind. They weren’t ever going to leave him on purpose, and if one day they didn’t have a choice, then chances were that they’d come back. It wasn’t complete certainty, but it never would be, with his family. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.

Louie fell asleep before they made it to their room, and he woke up surrounded by his siblings.

It was more than enough.

#ducktales #ducktales fanfiction #ducktales fanfic #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #my fic #this just happened #most of my fics are the same djsakdajdsj i just #Louie: needs reassuring #Huey and Dewey: reassure him #the system works ig #hope you like it!! #and yayy i'm finally posting something before midnight!

[iatethepomegranate]

Just a post-Aeor fic where Caleb buys a house with Beau and Yasha in Rexxentrum, becomes a professor, and learns how to be a person and protect people from what he has endured.

Content warnings: Caleb's backstory (a lot of it)

Chapter summary: Caleb's mind was in overdrive. There were so many calls to make, so many spells to prepare, so many things that could go wrong at every stage of this delicate operation, so many plans and backup plans and backup plans for backup plans. He could not let the past repeat itself.

Chapter notes: Say hello to a major plot arc. Also, I did my best to figure out a vague layout of the relevant parts of Rexxentrum but I am bad with directions, so *finger guns*

Chapter title from Eight by Sleeping At Last.

****

Chapter 6: I’m just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence

Caleb’s scars itched as he headed home from the Academy, mind buzzing uncomfortably. His hands were somehow steady as he messaged Beauregard.

“Beauregard. I had an unsettling conversation with Astrid and Wulf. Two Volstrucker students are missing. Felix and Nicolaus. Evocation wizards. May have self-orphan orders.” He realised belatedly that he had forgotten to ask Astrid for a description. Also, he hoped Beauregard never told anyone he had used the term self-orphan. He’d made himself a little queasy in his haste to keep to the word limit.

“I’ll make sure the Soul keeps an eye out. And I’ll get a description from Astrid in the morning. Get over here. Dinner’s ready.”

Beau and Yasha kept the conversation flowing over dinner, absolving Caleb of that social responsibility. He felt useless, sitting here while there were two boys out there somewhere, who were possibly in the process of deciding whether or not to kill their parents based on an implanted memory of treason. If they weren’t found in time, Caleb wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself.

The two women hugged him goodnight after dinner, and he shook so hard he feared he would collapse. Yasha held onto him a little longer than she had probably planned, while Beauregard stepped back to take a look at him.

“Caleb.” She had that tone, the one what told him he looked like shit but she was trying not to freak him out. “Maybe you should take a spare room on this side tonight.”

“I’m all right, Beauregard.” He knew he sounded ridiculous. “Hear me out. Please.” Beauregard tilted her head in a silent challenge. “I need to think. I need to process this. I need to come up with plans for every possible outcome. And I may need to make some calls.”

“Do you want to talk it out?”

“I would like to be alone. Just for tonight. We will talk tomorrow.”

Beauregard looked for a moment like she was going to argue, and then she quite intentionally relaxed her shoulders. “Okay. You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?”

“Ja, of course.”

Yasha gave him one last squeeze. “We mean it. Anything.”

“I know. Danke.”

Caleb escaped to his bedroom. He forced himself to slow down a bit, take deep breaths, and get dressed for bed. He settled under the covers, slowly circling his palm over the quilt and feeling the different animal patterns. He’d already committed them to memory. But, on a night like this, it helped to know that what he thought was reality before was still reality now.

What a fucking mess. Before he could get too deep into his head, he messaged Caduceus.

“Hallo, Caduceus. Two of Trent’s students are missing. We suspect memories may have been modified. If we locate them, are you available to help us?”

There was a short pause; Caduceus was probably weighing his response, aware that he would not be able to track the wordcount once he began to speak. “Of course. Let me know when I’m needed. If you could spare a teleport, that would be great.”

Caleb cast the spell again. “I will give you a head’s up when I need you and then grab you from the Grove. Danke. Today has been… a lot.”

“Get some rest, Caleb. I left some sleepy tea in your kitchen if you need it. I’ll be here when you need me.”

That was one problem handled. Caleb burned through another Sending.

“Astrid, Caduceus is on call to correct any memory modification. Beauregard will be in touch with you tomorrow to get their descriptions.”

“Danke. I will ensure the Cobalt Soul is adequately informed. Now go to bed.”

Caleb let him feel her unspoken concern for him, just for a moment. Maybe one day they could be friends again. He curled up beneath the covers and closed his eyes. He would have to ensure he packed Counterspell and Sending every day. Perhaps Hold Person would also be useful. Control Flames would also not go amiss, just in case. And Expeditious Retreat or Fly would be useful in case time was of the essence at any point. Suggestion could be useful if they had the chance to talk. Running through spells he should prepare made him feel a bit better about how little control he had over this.

He was still losing his mind a little bit.

“Caleb,” came Essek’s voice, pumping air into Caleb's lungs. “Apologies. I meant to message earlier. I’m safe. Saved a child’s pet cat from a tree. He hugged me. Strange. How was your day?”

“Intense.” Caleb wasn’t sure how much to say, and he would definitely have to burn more spells to go into any detail. “Astrid promised to find a venue for the ex-Volstrucker support group. Two boys are unaccounted for. We are concerned. They are… almost graduates.”

Before Caleb could decide whether to say more, Essek Sent again. “Are you all right? Can I help with anything?”

“Not right now. We will… see how this pans out. They’re from Blumenthal, and I didn’t hear anything when I was there. May have time.” Caleb burnt another of his own spells before Essek did. “I have Caduceus on standby and Beauregard will talk to the Soul tomorrow. We may have a chance. I hope.”

“I will come in a heartbeat if you need me. Keep me updated. Get some rest if you can. Goodnight. You are in my thoughts.”

It helped, just a bit. Caleb still tossed and turned for a while, unable to turn his brain off. But things were… maybe they were manageable. He had half a mind to take himself to Blumenthal tomorrow, find out where the boys’ parents lived and get them somewhere safe. Or maybe he could… no, they would not handle a stranger showing up at their door in the dead of the night very well.

****

Astrid came to the house the following morning, with sketches for Beauregard to distribute to the Cobalt Soul. It was odd to sit on the couch with her. Like friends would.

“Eadwulf is in the city with the Volstrucker we could mobilise,” she said. “If either of them come to Rexxentrum, between us and the monks, we will find them. I spoke to my guard contact; the families are okay.”

“Have we considered evacuating them?” asked Caleb. The thought had kept him up for a long time last night. Maybe it was the best option.

There was a flicker of discomfort across Astrid’s face for the barest of seconds. “I don’t trust the Crownsguard to handle a delicate mission like that. It would be up to us. Or perhaps the Soul, but I’m already stretching our relationship with them.”

“Yudala Fon knows the stakes,” said Caleb. “If you are not comfortable visiting Blumenthal yourself…”

“Are you?”

“I have been once. I can bear it again to save half a dozen lives.”

They both knew it wasn’t just the parents whose lives were in danger. If Felix and Nicolaus followed through on this and were not stopped…

Well, Caleb had lost eleven years, and then another six running and running and running. Astrid and Wulf had lost their freedom as well. And Caleb could not even begin to comprehend the special kind of pain it would bring these boys if they murdered their parents only to discover Trent had been in prison for weeks, his crimes exposed, his orders no longer in effect. Caleb wasn’t sure he could have survived that.

Astrid must have understood what Caleb was feeling, because she spoke gently. “It is an option. We could also leave them in place under guard to draw the boys out.”

“I would rather not.” Caleb could already conjure a dozen scenarios in which that could go horribly wrong. “Astrid, we cannot fuck this up. You and I both know these boys could overpower a Crownsguard, or sneak past a security detail. No risks. We have to move the families.”

Astrid opened her mouth to respond, and then paused, eyes drifting upwards in concentration. “Thanks, Wulf. Do not engage. Herd him towards us if you can. We will be there shortly.” She focused back on Caleb. “Felix is in the city. Eadwulf is trailing him. They are approaching from the south.” She hopped to her feet, and helped Caleb up. “Shall we?”

As they raced out the door, Caleb messaged Beauregard. “Felix has been spotted. Approaching The Tangles from the south. Wulf is trailing. We are headed to intercept. Could use a hand.”

“I’m in the Court of Colours, southwest of your position. I’ll link up with Eadwulf. Will get the monks to surround. We got this.”

“Beauregard is southwest of us,” Caleb told Astrid. “She’ll try to find Wulf and have the monks form a perimeter.”

“We only have one shot with Felix,” Astrid muttered. “This could make or break everything. No fuckups?”

“No fuckups.”

They ran.

As they drew closer to the suspected middle point, Caleb shot a quick message to Wulf. “We are close to the midpoint. Turning invisible now.” He grabbed Astrid’s hand, hiding them both from view.

Wulf’s response was a whisper. “Slowing down. I think he knows I’m here, but hasn’t done anything yet.”

Caleb was grateful most seventeen-year-old wizards had not yet figured out teleportation. He and Astrid also slowed, still hand-in-hand.

“We try to talk to him before we do anything aggressive,” Astrid whispered. “Get us close.”

“Worst case scenario, Beauregard stuns him and Wulf carries him somewhere we can have a secure conversation. I can try casting Suggestion if necessary, before we do anything to freak him out.”

They turned a corner and Caleb spotted the boy in a crowd of people carrying baskets and cloths and the like, probably headed to market. Felix was slim and blonde, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. His shoulders were tight. The pair stayed ahead of him. Caleb spotted the instant Felix started getting a little too nervous, his eyes darting backwards for the barest of moments, towards Eadwulf, buried even as he was in the crowd.

Caleb tugged Astrid’s hand towards an alley before letting go and stepping into it, hoping he had read this right. Felix also turned into the alley, putting his back to the wall of a nearby inn, raising a hand to prepare a spell. Caleb recognised the somatic components of Scorching Ray. He prepared to counter it.

As soon as Wulf emerged, Felix tried to release the spell, and Caleb counterspelled, losing his invisibility.

Felix shook out his hands, still focused on Wulf. “Why are you following me, Eadwulf?”

Wulf raised an eyebrow. “Did you consider asking that before trying to set me on fire?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, and Caleb wondered if Trent had tried to drive a wedge between the Volstruck, and Astrid and Wulf.

Astrid dropped her invisibility, appearing next to Wulf. “Felix, what’s the matter? Are you well?”

Her emergence did not calm Felix in the slightest. “Am I--” He scoffed. “Are you kidding?”

“We have been looking for you for weeks,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I have a mission to complete.”

Caleb considered recasting his invisibility, but the spell required verbal and somatic components. He just had to hold still and hope Astrid and Wulf commanded Felix’s attention until Caleb figured out what to do.

“Felix, you have been gone from the city for a long time,” said Astrid, and Caleb slowly reached for his component pouch. “Things have changed. Your mission, whatever it is, may no longer be viable.”

“We need to take you back to the Candles,” said Wulf.

Caleb felt his snake’s tongue and a piece of honeycomb, and began to slowly extract them from his pouch.

Felix didn’t move. “Why?”

Astrid glanced at Wulf, before evidently deciding on a course of action. “Trent has been arrested. We are trying to gather the Volstrucker so we can explain the charges against him.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Felix, what did he ask you to do?”

“It’s confidential.”

Caleb had the materials in his hand, so he rubbed the honeycomb against his lip, and spoke. “Felix, we are here to help you, but we need you to help us. Could we please have an honest conversation with each other?”

There was a moment where Caleb feared Felix would resist the Suggestion spell, and that Beauregard would have to swoop in and stun him. Felix turned to him, head cocked.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “You are Bren, right? Trent talks about you a lot.” He glanced at Astrid and Wulf. “He seemed worried the three of you were scheming behind his back.”

“Let’s head to his old office, ja? We have a lot to talk about. We will answer your questions, if you answer ours.”

“All right. Lead on.”

Caleb could not fucking believe that had worked. Judging from Astrid and Eadwulf’s brief but clearly shocked glances in his direction, they couldn’t believe it either.

****

Caleb couldn’t risk sending a message to Beauregard explaining what had happened, but she seemed to get the sense she shouldn’t reveal herself. Caleb led Felix through the city to the Academy, and up to Astrid’s office. They sat him in front of the fireplace.

Caleb crouched in front of him while Astrid stood by the fire, and Wulf leaned by the door. “Thank you for cooperating, Felix. Give me one moment. I need to message a friend who is going to help us.” He cast Sending. “Caduceus. We will need you in a moment.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

“I’ll go,” said Eadwulf. “Be right back.” With a muttered incantation, he had vanished.

“Where is he going?” asked Felix.

“To fetch a cleric friend of mine,” Caleb replied. “You look tired. Are you well?”

“Had a lot on my mind, I guess. Sleeping has been difficult.”

“I know the feeling.” Caleb looked to Astrid. “We should explain the situation, ja?”

“Why was Trent arrested?” asked Felix.

“A number of Volstrucker spoke with the Cobalt Soul about his training methods,” Astrid replied. “They documented it and took him to court. He’s in prison for life.”

Felix frowned. “I’m confused.”

Caleb should have expected Felix probably wouldn’t understand Trent’s behaviour as abuse; Caleb hadn’t either. “Felix, I would like you to listen to me.” He rolled up his sleeves so Felix could see the scars, which he was certain Felix shared. “A good teacher does not force his students to endure what we have.”

“We will face worse every day in our work,” Felix replied. “The pain… it makes us stronger.”

“And the residuum experiments? With no pain mitigation? I know people who have passed out in the process. Has that happened to you?”

“Once or twice,” Felix muttered, evidently still under the effects of the spell. “Puked more often.”

“Me too,” said Caleb, resisting the urge to scratch his itching scars. “It made me very ill most of the time. Astrid and Eadwulf had to force me to eat.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why are you asking me these questions?”

Astrid was gazing into the flames. “Felix, how old were you when Trent first hurt you?”

“Sixteen.”

Astrid managed to look at Caleb, just for a moment. “The same for him.” Astrid was a year older so it made sense to invoke Caleb instead, and maybe it was easier for her to project these things onto him.

Wulf popped back into the office, with the very welcome form of Caduceus beside him. Felix jumped, but Caleb had told him what was happening, and that seemed to be enough to stop him from bolting.

“Hallo, Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Can you give us just one more moment?” He turned back to Felix. “I’m going to have my friend Caduceus take a look at you and make sure you are well, but I would like to ask you a question first.”

“Fine.”

“What has Trent ordered you to do?”

Felix dropped his gaze to his lap. “My mother and father are plotting to betray the Empire. I have been asked to stop them.”

“That must have been weeks ago,” said Caleb. “What’s the matter?”

Felix scowled, and tried several times to supply an answer, as he was required to be honest while under the effects of Caleb’s specifically-worded spell. “I don’t know. They are not the people I thought they were. They are traitors. But. It’s not… I don’t know what to do. I’ve been waiting for Trent to give me more information, but I haven’t heard anything. I guess I was trying to figure out if there was a way I could convince them to…” He shook his head. “No. There is no mercy for traitors to the Empire.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Caleb. “It must be very difficult. May Caduceus take a look at you? You have clearly been under a great deal of stress.”

Felix had probably never seen a firbolg before, and he eyed Caduceus with trepidation. “What is he going to do?”

“It’s all right,” said Astrid. “He is a healer. The three of us have spent time in his family’s garden.”

“I… suppose…”

Caduceus approached slowly. “This will be quick, I promise. Just a healing spell to make you feel a bit better.” He already had the diamond dust for Greater Restoration in his palm. He touched Felix’s shoulder. It took a second for the spell to sink in, during which Caleb couldn’t breathe.

Then Felix slid to the floor, head in his hands. Astrid knelt beside him, whispering too quietly for Caleb to hear.

“One down,” Caduceus said softly, smiling at Caleb. “One to go.”

Caleb couldn’t speak. He watched Felix curl up on the floor, muttering to Astrid. She looked up at him, beckoned him over. Caleb knelt by her side.

“I don’t understand,” Felix said. “Why? Why? I don’t…” He shoved his fist against his mouth and screamed into it, eyes squeezed shut. “Why would he do this?”

There were a lot of things Caleb could say; he was not convinced any of them were right. But he had to say something. “He’s done this to all of us. Every Volstrucker went through this to graduate.”

“He does it for a few reasons,” Astrid said, quiet but somewhat detached. “It eliminates any family connections, leaving us reliant on Trent. And then, we’ve done the worst thing we thought we could do. Anything Trent has us do after that means very little. And those who break…” She looked at Caleb. “They are held up as an example of failure that we are measured against. We all know Bren’s name for a reason. First, as an example of failure, of weakness. Later, an example of endurance, of admirable but problematic stubbornness. A cautionary tale nonetheless.”

Felix looked to Caleb as well. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this information?”

Caleb wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know what Felix would tolerate, and there was a pressing matter. “First things first, we need to find Nicolaus.”

Felix drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them. “I don’t know where he is. We argued and then we went our separate ways.”

“What did you argue about?”

“I wanted to come here and find Trent. Ask about the order. See if there was anything we could… I don’t know.”

“And what did he want?”

“Nico doesn’t know what he wants. He was always more scared of Trent than I am.”

“Okay, we have ways to track him down. Caduceus, can you scry today?”

“I can,” Caduceus said slowly. “Might I also recommend, if Mr Felix knows the spell, that he should try Sending to him.”

“I don’t know that spell,” Felix said thickly. Caleb would just make out the side of his face, to see it was screwed up as if in pain.

“I can teach you,” said Caleb, “but I suspect it will take more time than we have right now.” Sending was an Evocation spell, so it would probably only take Felix three hours instead of six to copy it into his spellbook and practice it until he could do it, but that was still too long.

Caduceus sat cross-legged on the floor. “Do you have anything of his? Or a likeness?”

Wulf handed him a sketch. “Does this help?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Caduceus closed his eyes and began the ritual.

“I can try messaging Nico,” Astrid said, gripping her copper wire. “Nicolaus. It’s Astrid. I must meet with you in Trent’s office. It’s an urgent matter.” She waited, scowled. “Nothing.”

Caleb refused to panic, no matter how bad that sounded. “Okay. Good to know.”

Felix lifted his head. “What if we’re too late?”

“We don’t know that yet,” said Caleb. “Whatever happens, we will deal with it.”

Felix frowned at the floor. “What happens to me now?”

“We can take you home to your parents once we’ve got an idea of Nico’s situation,” said Caleb. “Unless you need more time.”

“Just a bit. I think. But I’d like to see them. Not today.”

“There is plenty of dormitory space for however long you need,” said Astrid. “Bren will visit you regularly once you are with your parents, to check in.” Felix nodded. That had not been discussed, but it was something that Caleb would want to do, so he let it slide.

The ten minutes it took for Caduceus to complete the spell were some of the longest of Caleb’s life. But then Caduceus’s eyes went white, and it seemed to be working.

Caduceus began to narrate what I saw. “I see your boy. He’s in a field. The clouds are pretty dark. It’s hard to see much. I think I see some buildings ahead of him. I’ll follow him for a bit.”

There was a sick feeling in the pit of Caleb’s stomach. “We should be ready, just in case.”

Astrid’s fingers weaved around the wire. “Expositor, are you close by? We may need your assistance. Come to my office on the--ugh, just ask for directions.” She listened. “Expositor Lionett is outside the Academy. She will be here soon.”

Caduceus spoke again. “He is approaching the village. Not many people in the streets. Probably the incoming storm. He looks like he has a goal.”

“What can you see of the buildings?” asked Caleb. “Any signs?”

“The signs are Zemnian,” said Caduceus. “The buildings look like farmhouses, mostly. I think I saw an orchard.”

“Blumenthal is a farming town,” Caleb muttered. “Fuck.”

Beauregard burst through the door, gasping for breath. “I’m here!” She doubled over, hands on her knees, as she sucked in air.

“Get ready to move,” said Wulf, stony-faced. “It looks bad.”

“Shit.” She gulped in another breath. “Okay.”

Caleb felt a little better now that she was here, but he was wound too tight to process it. “Caduceus. Is there anything else?”

“He’s picking up speed. Turned a corner. Looking at a house in the distance, I think.”

Caleb did not let himself feel anything. He turned to Felix. “Felix, do you know where Nico’s parents live?”

“On the northeastern edge of town.” Felix’s voice was as tense as Caleb. “Look for the cabbages.”

“Danke.” He squeezed Felix’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. “We need to go.”

Caduceus was still in the vision. “Go on ahead. I’ll stay here with Felix. If I see anything I think is useful, I will Send. But it will break the scry.”

Caleb gathered Astrid, Wulf and Beauregard around him and cast teleport, aiming for the northeastern end of Blumenthal. He knew it well, once.

Caleb’s scars itched as he headed home from the Academy, mind buzzing uncomfortably. His hands were somehow steady as he messaged Beauregard.

“Beauregard. I had an unsettling conversation with Astrid and Wulf. Two Volstrucker students are missing. Felix and Nicolaus. Evocation wizards. May have self-orphan orders.” He realised belatedly that he had forgotten to ask Astrid for a description. Also, he hoped Beauregard never told anyone he had used the term self-orphan. He’d made himself a little queasy in his haste to keep to the word limit.

“I’ll make sure the Soul keeps an eye out. And I’ll get a description from Astrid in the morning. Get over here. Dinner’s ready.”

Beau and Yasha kept the conversation flowing over dinner, absolving Caleb of that social responsibility. He felt useless, sitting here while there were two boys out there somewhere, who were possibly in the process of deciding whether or not to kill their parents based on an implanted memory of treason. If they weren’t found in time, Caleb wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself.

The two women hugged him goodnight after dinner, and he shook so hard he feared he would collapse. Yasha held onto him a little longer than she had probably planned, while Beauregard stepped back to take a look at him.

“Caleb.” She had that tone, the one what told him he looked like shit but she was trying not to freak him out. “Maybe you should take a spare room on this side tonight.”

“I’m all right, Beauregard.” He knew he sounded ridiculous. “Hear me out. Please.” Beauregard tilted her head in a silent challenge. “I need to think. I need to process this. I need to come up with plans for every possible outcome. And I may need to make some calls.”

“Do you want to talk it out?”

“I would like to be alone. Just for tonight. We will talk tomorrow.”

Beauregard looked for a moment like she was going to argue, and then she quite intentionally relaxed her shoulders. “Okay. You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?”

“Ja, of course.”

Yasha gave him one last squeeze. “We mean it. Anything.”

“I know. Danke.”

Caleb escaped to his bedroom. He forced himself to slow down a bit, take deep breaths, and get dressed for bed. He settled under the covers, slowly circling his palm over the quilt and feeling the different animal patterns. He’d already committed them to memory. But, on a night like this, it helped to know that what he thought was reality before was still reality now.

What a fucking mess. Before he could get too deep into his head, he messaged Caduceus.

“Hallo, Caduceus. Two of Trent’s students are missing. We suspect memories may have been modified. If we locate them, are you available to help us?”

There was a short pause; Caduceus was probably weighing his response, aware that he would not be able to track the wordcount once he began to speak. “Of course. Let me know when I’m needed. If you could spare a teleport, that would be great.”

Caleb cast the spell again. “I will give you a head’s up when I need you and then grab you from the Grove. Danke. Today has been… a lot.”

“Get some rest, Caleb. I left some sleepy tea in your kitchen if you need it. I’ll be here when you need me.”

That was one problem handled. Caleb burned through another Sending.

“Astrid, Caduceus is on call to correct any memory modification. Beauregard will be in touch with you tomorrow to get their descriptions.”

“Danke. I will ensure the Cobalt Soul is adequately informed. Now go to bed.”

Caleb let him feel her unspoken concern for him, just for a moment. Maybe one day they could be friends again. He curled up beneath the covers and closed his eyes. He would have to ensure he packed Counterspell and Sending every day. Perhaps Hold Person would also be useful. Control Flames would also not go amiss, just in case. And Expeditious Retreat or Fly would be useful in case time was of the essence at any point. Suggestion could be useful if they had the chance to talk. Running through spells he should prepare made him feel a bit better about how little control he had over this.

He was still losing his mind a little bit.

“Caleb,” came Essek’s voice, pumping air into Caleb's lungs. “Apologies. I meant to message earlier. I’m safe. Saved a child’s pet cat from a tree. He hugged me. Strange. How was your day?”

“Intense.” Caleb wasn’t sure how much to say, and he would definitely have to burn more spells to go into any detail. “Astrid promised to find a venue for the ex-Volstrucker support group. Two boys are unaccounted for. We are concerned. They are… almost graduates.”

Before Caleb could decide whether to say more, Essek Sent again. “Are you all right? Can I help with anything?”

“Not right now. We will… see how this pans out. They’re from Blumenthal, and I didn’t hear anything when I was there. May have time.” Caleb burnt another of his own spells before Essek did. “I have Caduceus on standby and Beauregard will talk to the Soul tomorrow. We may have a chance. I hope.”

“I will come in a heartbeat if you need me. Keep me updated. Get some rest if you can. Goodnight. You are in my thoughts.”

It helped, just a bit. Caleb still tossed and turned for a while, unable to turn his brain off. But things were… maybe they were manageable. He had half a mind to take himself to Blumenthal tomorrow, find out where the boys’ parents lived and get them somewhere safe. Or maybe he could… no, they would not handle a stranger showing up at their door in the dead of the night very well.

****

Astrid came to the house the following morning, with sketches for Beauregard to distribute to the Cobalt Soul. It was odd to sit on the couch with her. Like friends would.

“Eadwulf is in the city with the Volstrucker we could mobilise,” she said. “If either of them come to Rexxentrum, between us and the monks, we will find them. I spoke to my guard contact; the families are okay.”

“Have we considered evacuating them?” asked Caleb. The thought had kept him up for a long time last night. Maybe it was the best option.

There was a flicker of discomfort across Astrid’s face for the barest of seconds. “I don’t trust the Crownsguard to handle a delicate mission like that. It would be up to us. Or perhaps the Soul, but I’m already stretching our relationship with them.”

“Yudala Fon knows the stakes,” said Caleb. “If you are not comfortable visiting Blumenthal yourself…”

“Are you?”

“I have been once. I can bear it again to save half a dozen lives.”

They both knew it wasn’t just the parents whose lives were in danger. If Felix and Nicolaus followed through on this and were not stopped…

Well, Caleb had lost eleven years, and then another six running and running and running. Astrid and Wulf had lost their freedom as well. And Caleb could not even begin to comprehend the special kind of pain it would bring these boys if they murdered their parents only to discover Trent had been in prison for weeks, his crimes exposed, his orders no longer in effect. Caleb wasn’t sure he could have survived that.

Astrid must have understood what Caleb was feeling, because she spoke gently. “It is an option. We could also leave them in place under guard to draw the boys out.”

“I would rather not.” Caleb could already conjure a dozen scenarios in which that could go horribly wrong. “Astrid, we cannot fuck this up. You and I both know these boys could overpower a Crownsguard, or sneak past a security detail. No risks. We have to move the families.”

Astrid opened her mouth to respond, and then paused, eyes drifting upwards in concentration. “Thanks, Wulf. Do not engage. Herd him towards us if you can. We will be there shortly.” She focused back on Caleb. “Felix is in the city. Eadwulf is trailing him. They are approaching from the south.” She hopped to her feet, and helped Caleb up. “Shall we?”

As they raced out the door, Caleb messaged Beauregard. “Felix has been spotted. Approaching The Tangles from the south. Wulf is trailing. We are headed to intercept. Could use a hand.”

“I’m in the Court of Colours, southwest of your position. I’ll link up with Eadwulf. Will get the monks to surround. We got this.”

“Beauregard is southwest of us,” Caleb told Astrid. “She’ll try to find Wulf and have the monks form a perimeter.”

“We only have one shot with Felix,” Astrid muttered. “This could make or break everything. No fuckups?”

“No fuckups.”

They ran.

As they drew closer to the suspected middle point, Caleb shot a quick message to Wulf. “We are close to the midpoint. Turning invisible now.” He grabbed Astrid’s hand, hiding them both from view.

Wulf’s response was a whisper. “Slowing down. I think he knows I’m here, but hasn’t done anything yet.”

Caleb was grateful most seventeen-year-old wizards had not yet figured out teleportation. He and Astrid also slowed, still hand-in-hand.

“We try to talk to him before we do anything aggressive,” Astrid whispered. “Get us close.”

“Worst case scenario, Beauregard stuns him and Wulf carries him somewhere we can have a secure conversation. I can try casting Suggestion if necessary, before we do anything to freak him out.”

They turned a corner and Caleb spotted the boy in a crowd of people carrying baskets and cloths and the like, probably headed to market. Felix was slim and blonde, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. His shoulders were tight. The pair stayed ahead of him. Caleb spotted the instant Felix started getting a little too nervous, his eyes darting backwards for the barest of moments, towards Eadwulf, buried even as he was in the crowd.

Caleb tugged Astrid’s hand towards an alley before letting go and stepping into it, hoping he had read this right. Felix also turned into the alley, putting his back to the wall of a nearby inn, raising a hand to prepare a spell. Caleb recognised the somatic components of Scorching Ray. He prepared to counter it.

As soon as Wulf emerged, Felix tried to release the spell, and Caleb counterspelled, losing his invisibility.

Felix shook out his hands, still focused on Wulf. “Why are you following me, Eadwulf?”

Wulf raised an eyebrow. “Did you consider asking that before trying to set me on fire?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, and Caleb wondered if Trent had tried to drive a wedge between the Volstruck, and Astrid and Wulf.

Astrid dropped her invisibility, appearing next to Wulf. “Felix, what’s the matter? Are you well?”

Her emergence did not calm Felix in the slightest. “Am I--” He scoffed. “Are you kidding?”

“We have been looking for you for weeks,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I have a mission to complete.”

Caleb considered recasting his invisibility, but the spell required verbal and somatic components. He just had to hold still and hope Astrid and Wulf commanded Felix’s attention until Caleb figured out what to do.

“Felix, you have been gone from the city for a long time,” said Astrid, and Caleb slowly reached for his component pouch. “Things have changed. Your mission, whatever it is, may no longer be viable.”

“We need to take you back to the Candles,” said Wulf.

Caleb felt his snake’s tongue and a piece of honeycomb, and began to slowly extract them from his pouch.

Felix didn’t move. “Why?”

Astrid glanced at Wulf, before evidently deciding on a course of action. “Trent has been arrested. We are trying to gather the Volstrucker so we can explain the charges against him.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Felix, what did he ask you to do?”

“It’s confidential.”

Caleb had the materials in his hand, so he rubbed the honeycomb against his lip, and spoke. “Felix, we are here to help you, but we need you to help us. Could we please have an honest conversation with each other?”

There was a moment where Caleb feared Felix would resist the Suggestion spell, and that Beauregard would have to swoop in and stun him. Felix turned to him, head cocked.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “You are Bren, right? Trent talks about you a lot.” He glanced at Astrid and Wulf. “He seemed worried the three of you were scheming behind his back.”

“Let’s head to his old office, ja? We have a lot to talk about. We will answer your questions, if you answer ours.”

“All right. Lead on.”

Caleb could not fucking believe that had worked. Judging from Astrid and Eadwulf’s brief but clearly shocked glances in his direction, they couldn’t believe it either.

****

Caleb couldn’t risk sending a message to Beauregard explaining what had happened, but she seemed to get the sense she shouldn’t reveal herself. Caleb led Felix through the city to the Academy, and up to Astrid’s office. They sat him in front of the fireplace.

Caleb crouched in front of him while Astrid stood by the fire, and Wulf leaned by the door. “Thank you for cooperating, Felix. Give me one moment. I need to message a friend who is going to help us.” He cast Sending. “Caduceus. We will need you in a moment.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

“I’ll go,” said Eadwulf. “Be right back.” With a muttered incantation, he had vanished.

“Where is he going?” asked Felix.

“To fetch a cleric friend of mine,” Caleb replied. “You look tired. Are you well?”

“Had a lot on my mind, I guess. Sleeping has been difficult.”

“I know the feeling.” Caleb looked to Astrid. “We should explain the situation, ja?”

“Why was Trent arrested?” asked Felix.

“A number of Volstrucker spoke with the Cobalt Soul about his training methods,” Astrid replied. “They documented it and took him to court. He’s in prison for life.”

Felix frowned. “I’m confused.”

Caleb should have expected Felix probably wouldn’t understand Trent’s behaviour as abuse; Caleb hadn’t either. “Felix, I would like you to listen to me.” He rolled up his sleeves so Felix could see the scars, which he was certain Felix shared. “A good teacher does not force his students to endure what we have.”

“We will face worse every day in our work,” Felix replied. “The pain… it makes us stronger.”

“And the residuum experiments? With no pain mitigation? I know people who have passed out in the process. Has that happened to you?”

“Once or twice,” Felix muttered, evidently still under the effects of the spell. “Puked more often.”

“Me too,” said Caleb, resisting the urge to scratch his itching scars. “It made me very ill most of the time. Astrid and Eadwulf had to force me to eat.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why are you asking me these questions?”

Astrid was gazing into the flames. “Felix, how old were you when Trent first hurt you?”

“Sixteen.”

Astrid managed to look at Caleb, just for a moment. “The same for him.” Astrid was a year older so it made sense to invoke Caleb instead, and maybe it was easier for her to project these things onto him.

Wulf popped back into the office, with the very welcome form of Caduceus beside him. Felix jumped, but Caleb had told him what was happening, and that seemed to be enough to stop him from bolting.

“Hallo, Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Can you give us just one more moment?” He turned back to Felix. “I’m going to have my friend Caduceus take a look at you and make sure you are well, but I would like to ask you a question first.”

“Fine.”

“What has Trent ordered you to do?”

Felix dropped his gaze to his lap. “My mother and father are plotting to betray the Empire. I have been asked to stop them.”

“That must have been weeks ago,” said Caleb. “What’s the matter?”

Felix scowled, and tried several times to supply an answer, as he was required to be honest while under the effects of Caleb’s specifically-worded spell. “I don’t know. They are not the people I thought they were. They are traitors. But. It’s not… I don’t know what to do. I’ve been waiting for Trent to give me more information, but I haven’t heard anything. I guess I was trying to figure out if there was a way I could convince them to…” He shook his head. “No. There is no mercy for traitors to the Empire.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Caleb. “It must be very difficult. May Caduceus take a look at you? You have clearly been under a great deal of stress.”

Felix had probably never seen a firbolg before, and he eyed Caduceus with trepidation. “What is he going to do?”

“It’s all right,” said Astrid. “He is a healer. The three of us have spent time in his family’s garden.”

“I… suppose…”

Caduceus approached slowly. “This will be quick, I promise. Just a healing spell to make you feel a bit better.” He already had the diamond dust for Greater Restoration in his palm. He touched Felix’s shoulder. It took a second for the spell to sink in, during which Caleb couldn’t breathe.

Then Felix slid to the floor, head in his hands. Astrid knelt beside him, whispering too quietly for Caleb to hear.

“One down,” Caduceus said softly, smiling at Caleb. “One to go.”

Caleb couldn’t speak. He watched Felix curl up on the floor, muttering to Astrid. She looked up at him, beckoned him over. Caleb knelt by her side.

“I don’t understand,” Felix said. “Why? Why? I don’t…” He shoved his fist against his mouth and screamed into it, eyes squeezed shut. “Why would he do this?”

There were a lot of things Caleb could say; he was not convinced any of them were right. But he had to say something. “He’s done this to all of us. Every Volstrucker went through this to graduate.”

“He does it for a few reasons,” Astrid said, quiet but somewhat detached. “It eliminates any family connections, leaving us reliant on Trent. And then, we’ve done the worst thing we thought we could do. Anything Trent has us do after that means very little. And those who break…” She looked at Caleb. “They are held up as an example of failure that we are measured against. We all know Bren’s name for a reason. First, as an example of failure, of weakness. Later, an example of endurance, of admirable but problematic stubbornness. A cautionary tale nonetheless.”

Felix looked to Caleb as well. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this information?”

Caleb wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know what Felix would tolerate, and there was a pressing matter. “First things first, we need to find Nicolaus.”

Felix drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them. “I don’t know where he is. We argued and then we went our separate ways.”

“What did you argue about?”

“I wanted to come here and find Trent. Ask about the order. See if there was anything we could… I don’t know.”

“And what did he want?”

“Nico doesn’t know what he wants. He was always more scared of Trent than I am.”

“Okay, we have ways to track him down. Caduceus, can you scry today?”

“I can,” Caduceus said slowly. “Might I also recommend, if Mr Felix knows the spell, that he should try Sending to him.”

“I don’t know that spell,” Felix said thickly. Caleb would just make out the side of his face, to see it was screwed up as if in pain.

“I can teach you,” said Caleb, “but I suspect it will take more time than we have right now.” Sending was an Evocation spell, so it would probably only take Felix three hours instead of six to copy it into his spellbook and practice it until he could do it, but that was still too long.

Caduceus sat cross-legged on the floor. “Do you have anything of his? Or a likeness?”

Wulf handed him a sketch. “Does this help?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Caduceus closed his eyes and began the ritual.

“I can try messaging Nico,” Astrid said, gripping her copper wire. “Nicolaus. It’s Astrid. I must meet with you in Trent’s office. It’s an urgent matter.” She waited, scowled. “Nothing.”

Caleb refused to panic, no matter how bad that sounded. “Okay. Good to know.”

Felix lifted his head. “What if we’re too late?”

“We don’t know that yet,” said Caleb. “Whatever happens, we will deal with it.”

Felix frowned at the floor. “What happens to me now?”

“We can take you home to your parents once we’ve got an idea of Nico’s situation,” said Caleb. “Unless you need more time.”

“Just a bit. I think. But I’d like to see them. Not today.”

“There is plenty of dormitory space for however long you need,” said Astrid. “Bren will visit you regularly once you are with your parents, to check in.” Felix nodded. That had not been discussed, but it was something that Caleb would want to do, so he let it slide.

The ten minutes it took for Caduceus to complete the spell were some of the longest of Caleb’s life. But then Caduceus’s eyes went white, and it seemed to be working.

Caduceus began to narrate what I saw. “I see your boy. He’s in a field. The clouds are pretty dark. It’s hard to see much. I think I see some buildings ahead of him. I’ll follow him for a bit.”

There was a sick feeling in the pit of Caleb’s stomach. “We should be ready, just in case.”

Astrid’s fingers weaved around the wire. “Expositor, are you close by? We may need your assistance. Come to my office on the--ugh, just ask for directions.” She listened. “Expositor Lionett is outside the Academy. She will be here soon.”

Caduceus spoke again. “He is approaching the village. Not many people in the streets. Probably the incoming storm. He looks like he has a goal.”

“What can you see of the buildings?” asked Caleb. “Any signs?”

“The signs are Zemnian,” said Caduceus. “The buildings look like farmhouses, mostly. I think I saw an orchard.”

“Blumenthal is a farming town,” Caleb muttered. “Fuck.”

Beauregard burst through the door, gasping for breath. “I’m here!” She doubled over, hands on her knees, as she sucked in air.

“Get ready to move,” said Wulf, stony-faced. “It looks bad.”

“Shit.” She gulped in another breath. “Okay.”

Caleb felt a little better now that she was here, but he was wound too tight to process it. “Caduceus. Is there anything else?”

“He’s picking up speed. Turned a corner. Looking at a house in the distance, I think.”

Caleb did not let himself feel anything. He turned to Felix. “Felix, do you know where Nico’s parents live?”

“On the northeastern edge of town.” Felix’s voice was as tense as Caleb. “Look for the cabbages.”

“Danke.” He squeezed Felix’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. “We need to go.”

Caduceus was still in the vision. “Go on ahead. I’ll stay here with Felix. If I see anything I think is useful, I will Send. But it will break the scry.”

Caleb gathered Astrid, Wulf and Beauregard around him and cast teleport, aiming for the northeastern end of Blumenthal. He knew it well, once.

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #professor widogast #critical role #astrid beck #eadwulf grieve #fanfiction #my fics #cr2 #the pomegranate's professor widogast fic

[43sparrows]

r e j e c t - {Five x Reader} AU!

Read Part 1 & Part 2

WARNINGS: drunkenness

Word Count: 2,133

Note: let me know what you think of this development!

It's a huge ass diamond.

The newspaper is still open on your coffee table, and you can see the grainy black and white picture from your spot on the couch. You shouldn't be able to spot the ring from this far, not with your eyes as puffy as they are, not with the tears constantly clouding your vision, but the small white spot practically glows amongst all the grey. It's probably all the carats.

You snatch a tissue from where the box sits at the end table, running it under your eyes to collect tears and make up. There's a part of you that wishes your roommate was here to bitch about how ugly the girl was and how dumb he was. To remind you of how the sex was only ever good and help get your mind off of it.

But she left for her parents' last night and wouldn't be back until tomorrow evening. So it's just you and Laura Williams' from Channel 13, whose story about a soldier returning home to surprise his pregnant wife is doing absolutely nothing to ease the shaking breaths that leave you.

A knock sounds from the front door, stopping further descent down the spiral. Instead, you push yourself up from the couch and haul yourself over to the door, one shuffling footstep after the next. There's another knock as you undo the deadbolt and pull the door open.

Five stands before you with eyebrows raised. His look shifts slightly as he takes you in, his gaze intensifying as he studies your face. A wave of anxiousness crashes over you, leaving a gut twisting feeling of embarrassment in its wake. You've never cried in front of Five. There's never been much of a reason to, but even when you've stumbled into things or had a bad day, you've always been so careful to keep it in. It seems like just your luck that he'd walk in on you feeling your absolute lowest.

"Bad time?" he asks.

"Kind of," you say, wiping at the tears under your eyes once more with the tissue that's still in your hand. You hope you don't resemble a raccoon, but you have a feeling that the powers that be aren't taking any of your requests at the moment.

"What happened?" He's direct and to the point, like always. No offer to kill someone for you or gently asking if you want to talk about it. Still, it's a bit surprising that he's waiting for an answer as opposed to teleporting away.

"Just a long day. A long bad day," you needlessly clarify. His head tilts slightly but he doesn't press you on it. He doesn't need to. "Work is rough," you offer up.

"That sucks," Five says.  He either doesn't know you well enough to tell you're lying, or doesn't care enough to try. Either way it cuts deeper than it probably should. You blame it on the fact that you're emotionally raw right now because there are only so many truth's you're capable of facing at once. And you're already feeling overloaded. Your head keeps cycling through the same five truths.

You'd been with your ex for two whole years and he'd never even broached the topic of moving in.

It only took him eight months to fall in love and get engaged to someone else.

In the same eight months all you got was a friend with benefits minus the actual friendship.

All you want is to be hugged and there's nobody around who'll do that

You're all alone.

The near silence between you seems to exacerbate this last truth, only the sound of Laura Williams' voice in the background announcing a new birth at the zoo cuts through the quiet. It's almost a full minute of willing your eyes not to water before Five speaks again. "Do you want me to leave?"

You're not sure if he's being the world's biggest asshole or doing his best at being considerate. You are sure there's absolutely no way you can make it through a session with him without bursting into more tears. You're also sure that you don't want him to leave. Not at all.

"I'm not really up for anything right now," you shake your head, looking down at the crumpled and stained tissue that's still in your hand.

Five doesn't say anything, and you bet he's either nodding or still staring at you like he's trying to read your thoughts. And then you see his feet angle themselves away from you, ready to leave. Your heart sinks in your chest. You shouldn't have expected him to offer to stay. To comfort you. You need to stop hoping for things that he would never--could never--deliver. Because being warm and caring--that's not Five. It never has been.

"Hey." His voice calls to you, and you hate how quickly your head snaps to him. "Make some coffee, take a bath, and put on something other than the news."

You nod as he offers a ghost of a sympathetic smile before turning and vanishing.

You close door, walk back into your apartment, reach over for the remote and turn off the news.

It's approximately six hours later, and you're still on the couch but at least now you're surrounded by all of your new closest friends: Jack, Jim, Johnnie, Jose--all of the J's  and of course remnants of the Captain from last time you and your roommate made mojitos.

Who the fuck needed people when you had these guys and a playlist of 2000s hits.

Not you.

It was a good thing your roommate wasn't home. There's no way she wouldn't have made fun of your dance moves as you let the beat of the Black Eyed Peas' "Don't Phunk With My Heart" take control of your limbs. And while to the outside eye it might look as if you'd lost control of your motor skills, it felt good just giving in to the influence of the music and your friends.

"Y/N?"

You turn more quickly than your legs are ready for, stumbling over yourself to face the person in your apartment. You just barely catch yourself by throwing out a hand and bracing yourself against the coffee table.

"Five?" you ask, squinting your eyes at him. You can't tell if his face is more amused or bemused. For some reason all you can focus on are his raised eyebrows. He nods at you, tilting his head slightly.

"What are you doing?" It takes a minute to parse his voice out from will.i.am's rapping.

"Dancing. What are you doing?" You return back, pushing yourself back up to your feet. His eyes run over you and your apartment, seeming to take in the scene more fully. From the fact that you're only wearing a bralette and sweatpants (which has never been your style but you spilled one of the whiskeys on your shirt) to the various pages of the newspaper scattered around the floor and the song pulsating through the apartment.

Don't you worry about a thing, baby / 'Cause you know you got me by a string, baby.

Five takes a step forward, examining the assortment of bottles on your coffee table.

"You called me," he says, picking up the bottle of Jack Daniels that doesn't have more than a swallow left in it. "Eight times. Did you drink all of these?" he asks, gesturing towards you with the bottle.

You scoff at the ridiculousness of the question. As if you could drink five handles of liquor and still be on your feet. "No, they were mostly empty."

He nods, putting the bottle back down on the table and then looks at you out of the side of his eye as the song ends.  "Are you going to tell me what’s really going on now?" Five asks, turning slowly to face you fully as the intro for the next one picks up. You pause, staring at him as your brain tries to piece together what he's asking you. It's not until the verse picks up that it clicks. You nod, reaching for the nearest page of the newspaper. It's cartoons. It takes a few more tries to find the right page before you thrust it at Five, the beat continuing to increase the anticipation, and you find yourself rocking to the song and waiting for him to finish reading.

Never meant to make your daughter cry / I apologize a trillion times.

I'm sorry Ms. Jackson--

"Ooh," you sing along to the one part of the song you're able to keep up with. Five tosses the paper onto the table.

"Your ex?"

You nod, bouncing your shoulders to the beat.  "He's getting married,"  you sing at Five despite the fact that it is not a line to the song and you are horribly off tune.

"Statistically, it'll only last eight years," Five responds, but his eyes continue to linger on you, watching as you make a horrible attempt at lip syncing the rap. He pauses, narrowing his eyes lightly before asking: "You're still…in love with him?"

This elicits another scoff from you. "No," you say as if he's stupid for even suggesting it. "No, no, no-no." You stumble towards him. "He--no," you shake your head, grabbing onto Five's arm so you can brace yourself. You pause, squeezing at his tricep, momentarily distracted by how muscular he is.

"Y/N," Five prompts, and you look up at him and into his green eyes.

"I just wish I had something to shove in his face," you say, withdrawing your hand from Five so you can cup your hands to hold this imaginary item. "Something to show him how wrong he was about me. You know? I'm fucking future material," you say shaking your hands in Five's face. You step back, grabbing the handle of Captain Morgan from the coffee table. "But it looks like he was right," you mumble, looking down into the clear liquid that sloshes at the bottom of the bottle. "The fucker was right. I'm a reject." You lift the rum to your lips to take a swig only to find it yanked from your grasp.

"Hey!" you shout in protest, reaching for the bottle, but Five shakes his head and finishes it off before you can get it back. "Asshole," you mutter, brow furrowed.

"You didn't need it," he says, placing the bottle down as you glare at him. Five turns and begins to walk away towards your bedroom. He pauses half-way there and looks at you. "Are you coming or not?"

You almost trip over the couch in your hurry to follow him.

You do tumble over when you make the poor decision to try to take off your pants on your way to the bedroom. Five's head sticks out your door at the sound, and seeing you on the ground, pants wrapped around your left ankle and right calf, he sighs and comes back out. After a few moments of furious kicking, you're free of the pants and Five is bending over you. It takes a second to realize what's happening, but the next thing you know he's hoisted you over his shoulder and is hauling you off into the bedroom. The act sends tingles racing through your body in anticipation despite the fact that your head feels significantly more cloudy, and it's hard to focus on much.

Your back hits the mattress, and Five is bending over you, but something is off. He's not on the bed. And his hands aren't on you. Instead, he's creating a wall of pillows behind you. As he draws away, you catch hold of his arm and tug him towards you, lifting yourself up off the bed enough so that your lips connect.

Even though your world is fuzzy, the feeling of his lips against yours are enough to keep you grounded in the moment. You reach up with your other hand to pull him even lower, to deepen the kiss, to make him join you in this bed where he belongs, but instead he backs out of your grasp, gently breaking himself free. It would sting more if your limbs weren't so heavy, if your eyelids weren't drooping, if you weren't already half asleep.

You wake up the next morning feeling like shit.

Everything hurts and it seems like your skull is actively trying to split itself in half. Getting out of bed is a process that looks far more like coordinated falling than getting up and at 'em. You walk heavily, stiff legged into the kitchen, and there is one piece of mercy.

Sitting on your counter is a full carafe of coffee with a mug and bottle of aspirin sitting next to it.

You feel a little less like shit.

Read Part 4

#five hargreeves #number five #number 5 #number 5 smut #number five smut #five hargreeves smut #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #number 5 reader

[t-lostinworlds]

...and Action! (Tom Holland)

A/N: This was not planned at all. i wasn’t going to do a birthday fic ‘cause i have no idea what to write and birthday surprises can be so redundant (since i’ve written two of it already lmao) but then this idea came to me this morning and here we are a couple hours later. Wrote this quickly so bear with me aha. Hope you still like it! x

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was Tom’s birthday, a surprise shouldn't be at all surprising. But he never expected his girlfriend to pop-up in the most unlikely way while on set.

Warnings: Just fluff really and a bit of a steamy moment in the end?

Word Count: 3.1k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

"No, no, it's okay love, don't worry about it. Yeah, thank you darling, and yes, I'll try and have fun. I love you too sweetheart. Okay, I'll see you soon, bye..."

Tom lets out a groan after he hung up, throwing his phone on the pillow before his whole body plopped down on the hotel bed with a soft thud.

"Who was that?" Harry asked, feigning concern by his brother's sudden change in mood as he tried his best to keep a steady face.

"Y/N. Something came up with work and she couldn't fly out here. She's not coming for my birthday," Tom answered dejectedly. Though his face was covered with both hands, the sadness in his voice was too obvious to miss.

"I'm sure she tried her best Tom," his brother reassured, small smile plastered on his lips.

"I know. It's just—it's so last minute and I was looking forward to seeing her today since I haven't seen her in months," Tom shot his brother a frown. "I just really miss her man," he added.

It wouldn't be such a big deal to him if it wasn't so sudden, if he had time to prepare for it basically. Tom was already getting ready to pick you up at the airport, excitement filling him up head to toe. But with an hour and a half to go, you suddenly called and said you couldn't make it. To say that his heart dropped in the pit of his stomach at the news would be a huge understatement.

You were apologizing profusely on the other line, voice filled with regret saying how it was out of your control and Tom does understand. You have a life too after all, but it doesn't make him feel any less disappointed by the whole thing.

"Want to walk around the city for the meantime?" Harry proposed as he sat on the edge of the bed, giving his brother a comforting pat on the leg.

"Let's just go to set a bit early," Tom sighed, flashing Harry a small smile. He then stood up from his place begrudgingly, heading to the en suite to pack his essentials for today's shoot.

The plan was now completely thrown out the window. He was supposed to meet you at the airport, bring you back to the hotel for you to settle your things, and then you'll go together to set so that you can watch what he does for a living. And to have you there would've been an added energy boost, his cheerleader as you've said that one time.

But with you still in London and him in New York, there was no possible way that it could happen now. Unless you teleported which was highly unlikely.

Tom will have to celebrate the day with you miles away, as heartbreaking as that sounds.

***

"Ready to go?"

Tom only answered his brother with a hum and a nod, energy at a low given that his excitement was robbed away from him.

Harry did feel kind of bad to see his brother so down, and he was itching to say something. But with that said, he's more scared of you than Tom, and he wouldn't want to be the one to ruin everything, so he kept his mouth shut.

Once inside the cab, Tom sat at the very corner with a sigh, head pressed against the window, all overly dramatic that Harry tried his best to suppress a laugh.

Pulling out his phone, the younger brother then quickly typed in the text and hit send, making sure he was being discreet as possible to not spoil the surprise.

Message to Y/N: We're in the car now. I already told the front desk to give you the key then you can put your things in his room. I'll meet you on set later.

Tom had no idea what's in store for him.

***

"Harry! I missed you, you dork. How's he doing?" you greeted with glee as you got off the couch of the make-up trailer to give the younger brother a warm hug, him returning the gesture with just as much enthusiasm.

"Missed you too. And he's still moping. He has no idea you're here, at all," Harry chuckled as he pulled away.

You couldn't help but frown a little at that. Of course you feel bad, it was his special day and the first thing he's heard wasn't the greatest of news. But then again, every birthday always has a surprise. His wasn't an exception.

"Right, how do I look?" you asked, gesturing towards yourself from head to toe. It was a waitress' uniform what you wore, your hair up in a ponytail with a visor to hide your face just a little. The fabric from head to toe was a shade of light pink, save for the shoes and apron that were both white.

"A little different, but still recognizable," Harry pointed out with a knowing smile. "He won't be able to tell it's you right away though, the mask doesn't let him see much," he added with a chuckle.

"Good, great... okay wow, why am I suddenly nervous?" you laughed shyly, bouncing on your toes anxiously despite your task being as simple as holding onto him.

You've already talked to Jon Watts on what needs to be done. In fact, he was the one who pitched the idea in the first place. You were supposed to go for the typical pop-up with a cake when everything was wrapped for the day. But Harry accidentally spilt the plan on Jon who then got excited and offered an alternative route, which wasn't at all simple for sure but it would be great fun if it worked.

Then it resulted to the planning, Tom's manager getting involved, and then the crew helped you test it out and rehearsed it earlier this morning. Preparing was a bit of a handful but Jon was enthusiastic all throughout, saying that he wanted to surprise Tom in a not-so-normal way.

Quite frankly, most of everyone was in on it. Except Tom of course, just as he always is, in the dark with most things.

"Don't worry, you'll do great," Harry chuckled as he gave you a side-hug, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze before making his way towards the door. "I need to get back to Tom before he gets suspicious. I think you're going to get called to set in a bit."

"Okay, see you Harry."

***

"Tom, last scene for the day and then you're through," Jon said, shooting the lad a sympathetic smile at the tiredness that was obvious on his face.

Tom nodded with a small smile of his own. He was slightly confused because the scene before this was supposed to be his last, but you never know with Marvel. New things get added even at the last minute.

"It's just a short scene, you're simply going to swoop in and save a woman who's about to get hit by fallen debris. And then when she thanks you and runs the other way, you then look up all shock and then cut," the director elaborated, Tom quick to get the drift given that he was already hooked up to wires, and that he's done this countless of time before.

Thankfully, due to movie magic, they don't need to do the actual swooping off the ground, just the swing with the women already in his arms and then him placing her back on the floor, said woman whom Tom has yet to meet.

Tom was quickly ushered to his place on top of a tall platform, and after he's put on the mask—with a bit of help—just then he noticed a figure standing right next to him who stayed awfully silent and still.

Maybe she's just shy.

"Hi, I'm Tom," he introduced sweetly, completely having no clue that it was his girlfriend he's talking to.

"Hello, big fan," you answered softly as you changed the tone of your voice a little. Your nerves were eating you up in fear that he might recognize you—and the fact that you were so high up, but you were hooked up to wires too, so it's all good—but you also can't hide your excitement given that Tom was right here beside you, finally after so long.

You wanted to just hug him, to pull him close and kiss the living daylights out of him, but composure and control is key as it is not the time for the reveal just yet.

"Right just hold on to me," he spoke kindly and you couldn't stop the grin from erupting on your lips as your wrapped your arms around his shoulders, very much amused at the fact that he still has no clue despite being so close now. Maybe it was the suit constricting his senses.

"Good, hold tight and don't look down," he playfully added.

"Ready!" One of the crew yelled, you and Tom putting your thumbs up at the exact same time.

"We are rolling... and action!"

With only one arm wrapped around your waist as the other pretended to take hold on to his web, Tom jumped. No hesitation, no warning, no countdown, just pure confidence as he full on jumped.

The short squeal you let out was quite embarrassing as you held onto him tighter, wind moving pass your face in top speed that you couldn't bear to keep your eyes open. It was only five seconds tops that you stayed in air, your feet touching the ground in no time. But still, your heart hammered against your chest loud and fast, a pure rush of adrenaline coursing through you despite already having done this a couple of time just hours before.

"Are you okay?" Tom asked, Queens accent now in full play as he lets go of your waist to hold you in arm's length. You kept your head low as you nodded, acting your best on being out of breath and a little shaken—which wasn't that hard since that genuinely was a high swing.

"Y-yes, thank you for saving me Spider-Boy," you spoke in the squeakiest tone you can muster, still trying your best to hide your real voice just to play with him for a little more.

"Uh, it's Spider-Man," he corrected unknowingly, the confusion clear in his voice because Jon's instructions weren't being followed, but he can improvise.

"I don't think you're there yet though," you answered normally this time, Tom's whole body going rigid at the sound of the familiar voice.

Both his hands lets go of your shoulders in a haste as he swiftly pulled his mask off, eyes growing wider once it landed on your beautiful face.

"No way," he gasped, stumbling back away from you in utter surprise, hands going on top of his head to tug at his hair as he tries to comprehend what was going on, if what he was seeing was real. It felt like he's just seen a ghost, one gorgeous ghost that is.

"Hi there birthday boy," you giggled, the whole set erupting in cheers and wolf whistles while Tom still kept a fair distance from you. He was completely awestruck at the sight of you standing there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as his brain tried to process everything.

"I—what?" He looked around set in pure bewilderment, his eyes meeting his brother's who only gave him two thumbs up, that's when he realized Harry was in on it too. Tom shook his head before looking back at you, tears now starting to well up in his eyes as he jutted his bottom lip out in a cute pout.

"Do I not get a hug?" you teased as you opened your arms wide. The boy didn't waste any more time as he ran towards you just like how they do in movies, he's an actor after all. He didn't even bother to put his brakes a little as he jumped into your arms. A soft 'oomph' came out of you at the impact, quickly followed by hearty laugh as you wrapped your arms around him, sighs of reliefs coming out of the both of you at the familiar feeling of warmth.

"It's actually you," Tom whispered as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin and his grip around you tightening sweetly, your familiar scent filling him up with nothing but joy.

"Of course it is. Did you really think they'd find someone who looks exactly like me?" you flashed him a wide smile as you pulled away a little just to get a better look at him. Tom mirrored your grin as he rested his forehead against yours, eyes coated with adoration as it stared right into your own, and oh how much you've missed this boy.

"No, because you're one of a kind," Tom gushed, grin all wide as he nudges the tip of his nose with yours lovingly, just so glad to finally be so close to you after being away for far too long, to feel the softness of your skin after months of being deprived from it.

"That was so cheesy," Jon interrupted with his megaphone, tone playful which was soon followed by laughter echoing around the whole space.

Tom groaned, head falling softly on your shoulder in an attempt to hide the shade of red on his face, completely forgetting that you were still on set surrounded with a bunch of crew members. He had no problem being cheesy, but those lines were saved for only you and him, so when other people gets a chance to hear them unintentionally, Tom can't help and get all shy about it.

You rubbed his back with a giggle, turning to place a soft kiss on the side of his head making your boy let out a satisfied hum, Tom squeezing your waist in response.

"Right you two, let's start from the top and get this done so that you can go off to your little honeymoon," the director called out again, laughter obvious in his voice.

"Wait is this scene actually going to be in the movie?" Tom called out to Jon. "Yes, but don't take of your mask. And except for the part where you run off looking all scared of her, and then the part where you looked like you were about to cry and—"

"Got it Jon!"

With that, you two were back on the platform again, Tom sporting a wide ass grin as he never did take his eyes off of you, not even for a split second.

"Quit staring," you muttered with a pursed of your lips, cheeks heating up at the attention he was showering you. He only answered with a sweet laugh, leaning closer to give you a peck on the temple that's made your heart melt.

"Are you okay sweetheart? You look a bit nervous for someone who's already done it once," Tom teased, noticing how deep you we're taking in your breaths.

"I auditioned for this part months ago Tom, I have to do my best," you grumbled, face all serious that made him furrow his brows at you in question. "Wait, really?"

"No," you puffed out your cheeks with a laugh. "See, this is why it was so easy to surprise you. You are so gullible," you teased, earning a scoff from your man.

"Shut up and just let me save you from distress," Tom retorted with a light-hearted tone, shooting you a playful eye roll before he puts the mask back on, but never did he deny your statement.

Once everything was ready and set, you did the scene again, but without the extra shenanigans this time.

***

The party was a blast.

Granted, it wasn't all extravagant or over-the-top, it was just simple, a casual dine and drink. But when you spend it with the right people then it will always turn out better than expected.

A small local restaurant was pleased to host it, food and drinks delicious, ambiance great, and company even better. But as the night took its course however, especially with all the alcohol in his system, Tom hasn't been able to keep his hands to himself.

His smile was casual as he kept his end of the conversation with the people around him. But you knew better, especially with his hand going up—too high up—and down your leg in a way that wasn't good for your sanity. And the fact that you wore only tights paired with a skirt wasn't at all helping your case.

He was the one who called it a night for the both of you soon after. The moment you placed your hands on top his bulge as payback, he just lost it completely.

Once the door of his hotel room was shut close with the click of the lock to match, he was onto you in a split second. His lips were pressed on yours in a searing, hungry kiss, hands touching everywhere just so he could pull you as close as he possibly could.

"I missed you so much," he groaned between the kiss, hand gripping on your waist as he stirs you towards the bed. But you had a plan for the night too, so you quickly turned around and pushed him back instead, Tom landing on the edge of the mattress with surprise written on his face but pure fire swimming in his eyes.

You leaned down to kiss him again, only slowly, teasingly this time. You raked your fingernails up and down his jeans, the feeling already making Tom feel ecstatic and hot as he lets out another low groan. But before he could lift a hand up to bring you down to him, you pulled away with a knowing smile, slight mischief laced on your lips but more of it found in your eyes.

"What do you have in mind love?" Tom asked, voice a deep grumble as he watched your every move with intent. With your palm flat against his chest, you pushed him back a little more, up until he leaned back on his hands, whole body now spread out, and what a tasteful sight it was. You leaned forward towards him with a sweet smile, both hands resting palms flat on his jean clad thighs.

"The birthday boy deserves a private show, don't you think?" you whispered in a honeyed tone, tilting your head to the side as you gave his thick thighs a playful squeeze.

Tom lets out a shaky breath at that, eyes raking up and down your body, making sure he wasn't discrete about it before he met your gaze again, eyes coated with lust just as much as yours are.

With a pleased smirk, Tom opened his legs wider for you to easily slip in between them, voice deep and gravelly as he said,

"Sounds wonderful, darling."

-:-:-:-:-

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[dawnwriterimagines]

"At least somebody's happy to see me.": Vanya Hargreeves

Summary: When the Umbrella Academy finally reunites in 1963, an amnesiac Vanya reunites with her sisters, happily, especially Number Eight, who Klaus actually makes visible, after her death by Vanya's hand.

Warning(s): Fluff, light angst, etc.

- - -

You could still remember the way Vanya's sound wave had cut straight into your body, slicing messily through your clothes and across your chest. Vanya was dragged away by Leonard, or Harold Jenkins, sobbing and screaming out her frantic apologies when you felt yourself slipping away.

Allison had been next to you, having used your power to block Vanya's accidental attack, but it only caused the energy to bounce off your materialized shield and into you. It cut off, slicing the nape of Allison's neck, she stuttered out a painful "I heard a rumor..." to no avail as Harold Jenkins escaped with Vanya in tow.

Your sister held you tight as your family came to rescue you both, and she didn't let go, even when you quickly passed in Luther's arm's during the frantic car ride home.

Later, Vanya came home, to the Academy but by that time, Luther was fully aware of what his sister could do, but he would soon see for himself. Blinded by loss, he was quick to isolate Vanya until he was sure of what to do with her, in short, it didn't work out.

Meeting the enraged Vanya at her recital theater, with the commission's lackeys on their tails, the group of siblings banded together to take her down. During the battle against gun wielding agents of the commission, Klaus unleashed his hidden power, a magnificent display of his growing abilities.

Luther's eyes were wide in disbelief as you came to view in an ominous blue light as well as Ben Hargreeves, their long deceased brother, having grown up apparently in his ghost form. The siblings couldn't believe their eyes as you and Ben made quick work of taking down the agents, their bullets flying straight through your intangible bodies while you sent them flying and Ben's monsters ripped them apart.

Exchanging a glance with Klaus, you looked away to turn towards Vanya, who's eyes were squeezed shut as she focused deeply on the resonance of her violin, holding tight to the bowl of her instrument as she glowed with a pure white light and the wood draining of color with her clothing. You began to walk down the aisle, towards your sister, your siblings finishing off the agents behind you.

A violent wind consumed the theater as Vanya went on, her music as beautiful as it had always been, tears slowly manifesting along the corners of Vanya's eye's as she remembered her sister, how she had dreamed of seeing you in the audience, embracing you off stage when her performance was finished. The memory of you pulled her to continue, her sorrow pouring into the strings of her violin, the sound growing and energy rising all around her.

"Vanya..."

At the sound of your voice, Vanya's brows furrowed, her Boe pausing, missing a chord in the song. Was she imagining your voice now?

"You play so beautifully," Vanya felt your hand on her shoulder. She gasped harshly, her eyes bursting open, her tears finally falling like raindrops, she sucks in a breath as she looks over to see you. Her eyes are wide, her core filled with energy she had unconciously built up, the sound of the violin chords still floating through the air despite not a note being played. "You always have," you continue, a soft smile upon your lips.

Vanya stares at you in shock and disbelief, she can see the blue hue to your skin, the ominous light that surrounds you but there is no mistaking your presence, it was you. "(Y-y/n)?" She stutters with a small, fragile voice. Reaching her hand out to touch you, gasping and flinching back as she can feel your hand in hers, so cold, yet as comforting as you had always been.

"It's me," you wrap your arm's around the broken woman, who quickly drops her violin and bow to return it with a desperate embrace.

Vanya releases a choked cry, shaking as her body quickly racks with sobs, the light surrounding her soon begins to diminish. She holds you tight, crying with a stuttered, "I-i'm s-sorry! I'm sorry!" Repeating brokenly while you squeeze her tight to you, feeling Klaus's power fading.

"It's ok," you pull away to wipe away her tears. "It's ok." You smile, leaning forwards and pressing your lips upon her forehead, "Don't worry anymore, Vanya. It's ok."

The moment her hands slip through you, your form suddenly vanishing, she breaks down, clutching her chest painfully, before feeling the build up of energy within her quickly taking shape, she gasps out as Allison behind her, fires off a shot behind her that startles her senses. A large beam of light and paralyzing sound leave Vanya and shot out of the circular window atop the Icarus Theater, hitting the moon and destroying it.

It doesn't take long for the siblings to realize their fucked. Five quickly devising a plan to go back in time to evade the apocalypse.

Obviously, he fucked that up.

The siblings find each other after a year and/or more of being apart, all separated between 1961 to 1963. You and Ben stuck with Klaus, who somehow found himself becoming a cult leader. You had found Diego a while back, having declared himself a psychotic and sent to an asylum for trying to save the president from his future assassination. Klaus found Allison later on, or she found him, she had married and became a civil rights activist. Luther was found by Five, who was last to teleport to 1963, he became a body guard for a big shot mob boss, you were actually pretty surprised to find that out. Vanya...well, you weren't sure where Vanya was, Five did say he saw her, she's supposed to be a nanny now, on a farm?

Five found Klaus and Allison, eager to finally get the group back together, meeting up at the hideout he had with a alien theorist, this family can never even say the word 'normal'.

Vanya sat on the couch, facing Luther and Diego, horrified to find out about the evil deeds of her asshole adopted father. Keeping her drugged up on pills to suppress her powers? Keeping her isolated from her siblings? Jeez, now she really had to meet this guy.

"Hey! Get down here already!" Vanya perked up, upon hearing Five's voice, the three siblings getting to their feet and walking over to the railing to view.

"Is it just me...or did we all get hotter?" Klaus wondered aloud.

Your eye's widened upon seeing Vanya, you smiled to yourself in relief, "Vanya," you hummed to yourself.

"I can't believe I have a sister," Vanya laughed excitedly before skipping down the steps, a smile on her face, looking at Allison. You raised a brow before recalling what Five had told Klaus of Vanya's memory.

"Klaus," you nudged the seance. Klaus looked at you before back at Vanya.

"I mean, won't she maybe, freak out?" Klaus wondered, glancing at Vanya.

She shuffled in front of Allison, recalling how pretty unwelcoming her brothers had seemed when they found her, none of them seemed to had missed her. She hesitated in embracing the only other woman of the many siblings, wasn't she told that she had 2 sisters?

"Vanya," Allison breathed, smiling softly as her sister came waking down the steps to her, brightly. Allison stood there, almost awkwardly, "I missed you." she couldn't help herself when she walked forwards to finally embrace her sister.

"Thank god, somebody did," Vanya joked half heartedly, stiffly welcoming her embrace before relaxing and hugging back, relieved.

Klaus couldn't help himself as he aww'ed at their sisterly reunion, "Aww! This is precious," he wrapped the both of them in his arms before giving a loving kiss to Vanya's forehead, "Finally, Vanya! Where have you been?"

Vanya blushed at the love she was suddenly receiving from her siblings. "Around, I guess."

You frowned, shoving Klaus's arm, "Klaus!" You warned, Klaus flinched lightly before sighing.

"Ok! Ok, I got it!" He raised his hands in defeat. Then, turned to Vanya and Allison, who raised a brow confused. "Hey, um, Vanya, come with me, please."

Klaus dragged Vanya away from Allison, who gave her brother a confused frown, before he pulled Vanya into a corner as everyone began to go upstairs to discuss Five's plan.

"Hurry it up, Klaus," Five sighed as he straightened the collar of his uniform, looking over the balcony before turning to head to the couch.

He waved the old man in a child's body off. "Yeah! Yeah, I got it!" He then turned to a nervous Vanya.

"Did I do something wrong?" She wondered, her fingers pull down on the end of her shirt, anxiety filling her.

Klaus raised a brow. "No, no. Why would you say that?" He then realized what it seemed like, dragging her secretly over from everyone in attempt to have a private conversation that may have to do with telling her off. "Oh, no! Haha! Don't worry, I just wanted to talk to you, Vanya." He smiled, the girl laughed lightly, her shoulders relaxing visibly. "Well, I mean--" he glanced over at you, "Not me. But, another member of the family."

Vanya titled her head to the side, her brows furrowing. "I thought we were the only ones left?"

"Well, yeah...but--she wanted to see you again. She's kind of bugging me about you." Klaus let out a small 'ow' when an invisible force seemed to jab him in the ribs. "Alot."

Vanya's eye's widened before she began to grin widely. "Wait...I have another sister? Really?!" She questioned, happily. "That's great, no offense, but there's way too many boys in this family," Klaus shrugged his shoulders, nodding at the fact. "So, where is she?"

He looked over at you, "You ready?"

Vanya glanced at the empty spot before assuming he were talking to her. "Yeah?"

You nodded. "Always."

Klaus stepped back alittle, taking a deep breath, shaking his hands out to prepare himself. Vanya pursed her lips, blowing out a low breath, "What're you doing?"

"Just a sec!" His hands begin glowing an ominous blue, that makes Vanya step back in surprise. Klaus leans over into himself, concentrating his ability to conjure up a misty figure beside Vanya, she notices, jumping back to the side with a loud gasp.

"Woah! Hey, what's happe--!" Vanya presses herself against the side wall as the person comes into view, illuminated with the same blue light coming from Klaus's hands. A beautiful woman her age, (h/c) hair and leather pants with a fitted top under a loose jean jacket that steps towards her. "W-what?"

You smile widely, "Vanya!"

The small woman's eyes are wide in disbelief before she pushes herself lightly off of the wall, taking a hesitant step. "W-who are you? Do I know you?" She looks over at Klaus, who's already begun to sweat faintly along his brow. "Is this--is this my sister?"

Klaus grin's, nodding. "Vanya, this is our sister, (Y/n) Hargreeves."

You can't wait any longer and quickly rush up to Vanya, she's shocked when she feels your arm's wrap around her, a warmth she's never felt before enveloping her upon your touch. You held onto her, running a hand down her hair as her hands come up to wrap around your waist. "I've missed you, sis."

Vanya can't help the smile that spreads across her face, she let's her head settle into your chest, she wonders if the heartbeat she hears is from you or her. "I have another sister..." she breathes, you chuckle.

"Yeah, you do," you pull away, keeping your hands on her shoulder's. You then look at her eyes, they're different, "So, you don't remember us, at all? The academy? Me?" Some part of you hoped she would've, when she saw your face.

She shook her head, tilting it down, guiltily. "I was hit by a car, I lost my memory, I don't remember anything..." her eyes then narrowed before she glanced up. "Well...I think I remember something...but I'm not really sure. It's a fragment of a memory if anything," she sighed, alittle frustrated. "It's just a song. Not even a lyric...just the name, I think. But I've never heard of it, and it doesn't exist here, I guess it's one from the future. Our future, I guess."

Your eye's widened, before you asked her. "What...what's the song called?"

Vanya paused, looking at you now, fully. The glow of blue around you reminded her of a black and white movie, she wondered if she could remember the color of your hair if she tried, did you have highlights, maybe two different colored eyes? "...she told me her favorite song was (f/s)...I...it's like listening under water, it's not very clear...but I can still feel a hand around mine throughout the entire thing..." Vanya's lips tug up, recalling all the nights that the memory had comforted her, knowing someone out there was waiting for her to come home.

You would've cried if you could've, but you could only smile, sorrowful and relieved at the same time, "I'm glad to know you still remember...you used to hate that song...so much!" You chuckled at the end, Vanya's eye's drifting upwards, her heart doing flips and her eyes going red as they burned. "But, you put it on the record like clockwork, every Sunday night. We'd lay on the rooftop and watch the stars until the sixth flicker of the low brook street lamp. The city never got that thing fixed," you recalled fondly.

Vanya sniffled softly. "...b-but...but how could---how'd this happen to you? I remember you. I remember you like....like it was so recent. How did you die?"

You shook your head. "It doesn't matter, Van," you rough your hands up to her cheeks, wiping the tears that began to fall down her cheeks. "It doesn't matter. It matters only that, I got to see you again. And I've missed you, so much, Vanya. So much," you brushed her hair to the side cupping the side of her face as Vanya breathed a sad laugh, taking your hand in hers. "I love you, Vanya. Always know that, okay?"

Vanya couldn't speak, biting her lip to hold the sob creeping up her throat, she hasn't heard those words in years, and she could feel every emotion that you carried in that single sentence and it made her want to hold you and never let go as she sobbed her heart out. She nodded, vigorously, "I-i know. I know," she sniffled harshly, she could hardly believe she was breaking down right now. She hardly remembered you, she didn't know why she was crying but a part of her was just falling apart and she didn't know why.

Klaus placed a hand on your shoulder, "(y/n)..." he whispered, softly. Not wanting to break up the two of his sisters, he guiltily spoke, sadly nodding towards the spirit of his dead sister, "I'm sorry, I can't keep going..." he apologized, before you shook your head.

"No, Klaus," you reached out, holding onto his hand, "This was more than enough," you leaned up, placing your lips along her cheek. "Thank you for giving me this time. You can rest now."

Klaus nodded, before letting you go, briefly. Turning to Vanya, who's grip on your hand grew tighter, "Vanya..."

"P-please, just give me...give me alittle more time," she begged. "I don't know why but...I'm just so...I'm so scared to let you go!" She wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you tight as she sucked in a shuddering breath as she sobbed into your chest. "Please, don't leave me."

You closed your eye's, wanting so badly to cry, to shed even a single tear but everything felt so bottled up, thrown into a pit so big it would never be released, it hurt. You hugged her to you, she held you tighter, "I'm always with you, Vanya. I won't ever leave you," you breathed, kissing the top of her head as Klaus's power began to fade, you felt her touch begin to slip, your body be coming intangible once more. "It's ok. I'm right here, for you."

Vanya collapsed to her knees as you slipped through her hands, silently wrapping her arms around herself as Klaus tiredly walked up to her, going to his knees in front of her, he sat there, laying a hand on her back. Before the young woman leaned forwards to wrap her arms around him, her head against his shoulder. Klaus encircled her shoulders, pulling her to his side as she began to slowly calm.

A few days later, Vanya's memory returns. She remembers everything about her family, about you.

And as she stands, walking out of the FBI building, she wipes away a stray tear as she remembers the last time she had seen you. You had forgiven her, loved her unconditionally, embraced her and welcomed her despite what she had done to you.

Today, she'd save the world with her family, for you. And she knew that you would always be by her side through that and the future ahead.

#vanya x reader #umbrella academy x reader #umbrella acedmy #umbrella academy klaus #klaus x reader #vanya hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader

[fanficshiddles]

Trust, Chapter 14

Darcy was rudely awoken to alarms blaring throughout the compound.

‘What the hell?’ She jumped out of bed and threw on some clothes as quickly as possible before darting out her bedroom to find out what the hell was going on.

There was a sudden loud rumble that shook the entire building, making her heart race. Not in a good way. She ran down the corridors until she eventually found Jane and Bruce, rushing towards the front door.

‘What’s going on?’ Darcy asked as she ran with them.

‘No idea!’ Jane said quickly.

But as they headed outside, they quickly learned what was going on.

There were aliens attacking the compound, guns were firing everywhere. The aliens looked similar to stick insects, with long and weird limbs that could twist this way and that.  

Tony and Thor were flying through the air, blasting at them. Steve was kicking some ass on the ground with Natasha. Clint was on the roof, hitting as many as he could with his arrows.

Darcy looked around for Loki, then she spotted him using his Seidr, tricking some of the aliens with his illusions and getting close to stab them with his daggers.

Bruce was quick to turn into Hulk right beside Darcy and Jane, who decided to run back inside for safety.

‘What can we do?’ Darcy squeaked, feeling helpless as they shut the door.

‘Nothing! We can just… stay in here.’ Jane said. But finished with a scream as an alien came bursting through the wall.

Darcy and Jane both ran away screaming through the compound. The alien was chasing them though, it managed to corner them. It had long fangs, clicking together. Darcy really was starting to wonder if it was Hydra again, having modified some sort of insects.

They were backed right against a dead-end wall, with nowhere to go. The alien had what looked like blasters from the end of two of its limbs, they started whirring and firing up, aiming right towards the two humans.

‘Oh shit.’ Darcy said, eyes wide. Ready to accept her fate, there was no way out.

But just as the alien started firing at them, Loki jumped in to the rescue in a blur of green. He moved on front of Darcy and Jane, holding his cape up, taking the hits as he shielded them both. When the alien stopped firing, Loki then attacked. Taking the alien out quite easily with a few energy blasts. Darcy hadn’t seen him fight before, but she was pretty impressed.

‘Get to safety.’ Loki barked orders at them.

‘How the hell do we get to safety? In-case you haven’t noticed, they’re everywhere!’ Darcy shouted over the ruckus as another alien was clearly coming in their direction.

Loki flicked his hand in their direction and both Darcy and Jane were transported to safety. Surprising them both when they landed in some random hotel room.

‘Woah… what the hell just happened?’ Darcy asked, looking around in shock.

‘I… have no idea. Did Loki really just teleport us somewhere?’ Jane rushed over to look out the window. The hotel room was basic, but clean and safe. ‘We’re in London?’ She looked over at Darcy with wide eyes.

‘What the hell are we doing in London?’ Darcy rushed over to look outside too.

‘More importantly, why does Loki have a hotel room in London?’

‘Who knows. But I’m ordering pizza!’ Darcy said as she spotted a takeaway menu on the bedside table. Along with information of the hotel they were staying in.

‘How can you think about food at a time like this? What if he doesn’t bring us back?’ Jane panicked, pacing back and fore.

‘Calm down, Jane. He wouldn’t have saved us otherwise. Can’t you just trust him for once?’ Darcy hissed at her.

‘Why would I trust him? He’s a villain.’

Darcy rolled her eyes and didn’t bother asking what she wanted, she just phoned and ordered herself a pizza. When it arrived half an hour later, Jane was really antsy. Darcy had to physically stop her from leaving, saying it might affect Loki’s ability to bring them back if they weren’t where he put them.

Jane didn’t really argue with that logic, but she didn’t think he was going to bring them back. They were stranded in London with no passports or documents, she just knew it.

But Darcy wasn’t worried at all. She enjoyed her pizza, knowing Loki and the team were kicking ass back home.

‘Jane, you should be glad that we are at least in a safe place while they’re back home defeating weird aliens.’ She said as she munched through another slice of pizza, lounging back on the bed.

Jane couldn’t settle though. She ended up storming out of the hotel, to go and try to figure a way to get back. Darcy stayed where she was. She had food, and she knew that Loki would bring her back once it was safe.

And he did, of course.

Darcy appeared in a shimmer of green onto the sofa, shoving ice cream in her mouth. She paused when she realised she was back, with Loki and the others looking at her in amusement.

‘I see you got the takeaway menu.’ Loki smirked.

‘Where’s Jane?’ Thor demanded.

‘She left the hotel room, didn’t think we’d be brought back.’ Darcy shrugged.

Thor looked to Loki angrily. ‘Where is she?’ He held Mjolnir up at Loki’s chest angrily.

Loki put his hands up in defence. ‘She clearly didn’t want to wait for me to bring her back. I can only bring them back if they are in the place I put them.’

‘I told Jane that, but she wasn’t having any of it. Clearly thinking she knew better than a God who saved her ass in the first place.’ Darcy shoved her spoon into the ice cream tub and stood up.

Thor huffed in annoyance and headed off to go find her himself.

The rest of the team all headed off in their own direction, Tony had a lot of work to do with repairing some parts of the building.

Darcy put her ice cream down and walked over to Loki. He was half expecting some smart-ass remark, but instead she put her arms around him and hugged him.

‘Thank you for saving me.’ She said as she squeezed him.

At first Loki wasn’t overly pleased about her hugging him. But as he looked down at her, his heart melted a little. He of course had a soft spot for her, hence why he saved her. If it had just been Jane, he wasn’t completely certain he would’ve saved her…

But Darcy? He would always save her if she was in danger.

Darcy was secretly pleased when the God of mischief started hugging her back as he wrapped his arms around her and placed his chin on top of her head. She felt like she was finally getting through his tough exterior.

‘I do have one question though.’ Darcy tilted her head up, looking at him.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her. ‘What may that be?’

‘Why do you have a hotel room in London?’

Loki smirked. ‘I don’t. I stayed there once, they had a takeaway menu already in the room so I knew that would keep you happy. I figured I’d take a chance and hope I didn’t send you both to a room that was already occupied. I guess I got lucky.’

‘So you just sent us to a random room, that might’ve been occupied by some weirdos?’ Darcy asked, not entirely surprised, actually.

Loki nodded with a shrug. ‘I figured nothing could be worse than what was going on here. Your taser would work on humans anyway. Besides, you’d have an advantage since any occupants would be startled at your arrival.’

Darcy rolled her eyes. ‘Well, you saved my life. I’m really grateful.’ She smiled up at him.

Loki nodded. ‘Of course.’ He smiled back at her.

‘I owe you.’ Darcy patted his shoulder before heading off.

‘You owe me?’ Loki quipped.

‘Yep. Never thought I’d say that to you, but saving my life and all is kind of a big deal.’ She called back over her shoulder.

Loki smirked and folded his arms over his chest. ‘How about a blowjob?’

‘I value my life, but not quite that much.’ She laughed as she headed out the room.

‘Can’t blame me for trying!’ He called after her, chuckling.

#Loki #Tom Hiddleston #trust #fan fiction #tasertricks #darcy lewis

[the-last-cuddlebender]

Kataang Pilot!AU

(This prompt was really fun. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, Anon!)

Words: 1,659

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Katara met him when they were in flight school. Well, ‘met’ might be too strong a word.

She was walking down the hall and contemplating fluid dynamics when she passed him—the boy with tattoos a shade of blue that put the sky to shame and with a smile so bright that she had to squint to behold it. His laugh was a vapor trail that made her giddy like nothing else had done before. He gesticulated so animatedly that he nearly cut off the heads of a dozen passers-by.

Katara tried, once, to talk to him. It was the only test in flight school that she failed. She was too quiet; the world was too loud. It didn’t exactly help that some boy named Haru had pulled the tattooed boy into a headlock that devolved into a wrestling match just as she got his attention.

He tried, twice, to talk to her. He was more than successful both times.

The first time, he spotted her from across the courtyard and damn near teleported to her.

His name was Aang. He wasn’t that tall.

He was the kindest soul she’d ever met.

When he left the school, he took most of her with him, and Katara had been searching for what he stole ever since.

...

Not too long after he left her puzzled, empty, and longing, Katara had to leave, as well. But it wasn’t for an advanced program like he flew off to.

Gran-Gran had a heart attack. It wasn’t pretty. Katara was the glue and the salve cooing her brother and her father to cope and recover. They helped her just as much, and she vowed to visit them more.

(Gran-Gran told her that she saw death, called him a bitch, and reminded him to tell her daughter-in-law that Kya had to wait another ten years for her company.)

...

Katara was only a little behind and only had to retake a few classes when she returned to flight school a year and a half later, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

Graduating was easy, but choosing an employer? That was hard. Katara was an ace—the top of her class. They even put her photo in the hall of notable students.

...She was reminded of Aang and what he stole from her every time she saw his portrait pinned next to hers.

...

It was a requirement to serve as a co-pilot for the first few years after schooling. It was like a continued education after medical school when an MD truly learned what it meant to be a practitioner, but turning from co-captain to captain felt like it was taking twice as long.

Sometimes, it took students twelve years to become a captain. Sometimes, it took them two years.

It took Aang eight months.

Katara was entering her ninth month when she was transferred to his airline.

He spotted her from across the terminal like he had been waiting and looking for her. He vanished and reappeared at her side, and if only he had a puff of smoke, she would have thought him a magician.

He shook her hand and talked at Mach speed. His smile alone nearly blew her away, but his hand holding hers kept her on her feet.

“—it was you! They all said you dropped out, but I knew you wouldn’t! And then I saw your plaque when I visited on a favor-call from Roku, and I couldn’t believe—!”

He paused. Katara’s world stood still. Her world also looked kindof splotchy and dotted with black.

That was weird…

Oh wait.

Breathing.

Breathing was a thing she had to do.

Unfortunately, Katara was too late in her revelation. Her heart broke when his eyes softened like that and his concern boiled over into panic. She was thinking about how nice it sounded when he said her name even as she fell back and fainted.

He caught her, of course.

Luckily, Mai and Lu Ten were willing to exchange their schedules to save either Katara or Aang from being fired.

(He had refused to leave her. It was incredibly foolish. Top in the industry or not, their superiors would only take so much from even him.)

It wasn’t exactly a first date, but he bought her food from the cafeteria and bought her one of those super-fuzzy travel blankets to keep her warm. They talked over pizza that was so greasy that they had to dab it with napkins, and they laughed over coffee that was far too bitter to be called ‘edible’.

They shared secrets over hot cocoa and talked like they knew each other forever.

Aang thought he was being sly when he loaded his straw with a paper wad and blew it at her.

He smiled like a kid on Christmas.

Katara felt like she was one, too.

The g-forces she experienced when he smiled—at her—made her so lightheaded that she whispered a thankful prayer to whoever was pulling her life’s strings that she was seated when she first witnessed the miracle so close and in its entirety.

They fell asleep back-to-back (though it was more like side-to-side) in the terminal—just another ‘couple’ bending under the stress of a connecting flight.

...

“You seem eager to be out of here.” Katara settled into her co-pilot’s chair as her captain fussed over the little details that Katara’s classmates had made fun of her for caring about.

“Ba Sing Se has never been...Well, let’s just say that it’s not like how I was raised.”

“But the South is?”

“Of course! Middle of nowhere, lots of high places, room to run and frolic as I please—”

Katara couldn’t hide her laugh. “Frolic?”

“Have you never frolicked?”

“When I was a girl, maybe.”

“You should try it sometime. It’s not like it gets any less fun with age.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“...Maybe.” Aang scratched his face, didn’t meet her eyes, and flushed a color even brighter than the emergency exit sign. “Or it could...be a date?”

“To go frolicking?”

“Of course.”

It was quiet until it wasn’t. A giggle slipped past Katara’s defenses. She hugged her middle and laughed so hard that she cried, and she nearly laughed herself into a coma when Aang bent over, too. His laugh sounded like how good memories felt, and Katara never wanted to hear more of something in her entire life.

She couldn’t feel her seat beneath her—just the feeling of her hand on his arm and the soft bumping of his head against hers.

Katara was falling, and she was falling hard.

But, for some reason, she wasn’t scared of hitting the ground.

If she didn’t know any better, she might have thought that she was flying.

...

Sokka, having heard the hint of interest in Katara’s voice when she recounted her tale with her dreamy tattooed captain, made immediate plans and cashed-in on more than a few favors to get himself onto her new schedule. He didn't trust Aang, not at first. No one could be that happy.

“—and gentlemen, in the event that you have not been in an automobile since 1942, we’re gonna show you how to fasten a seatbelt, so watch closely—”

Sokka, while a phenomenal flight attendant, was walking a razor’s edge onto Katara’s last nerve.

But Aang and her brother got along famously.

Katara should have expected nothing less.

This was Aang she was talking about.

Her boyfriend could befriend the devil himself.

The thought made Katara’s world get fuzzy and black-splotchy again. Luckily, Aang was laughing too hard with Sokka to notice her holding tight to the wall.

Breathing.

Breathing was a thing she had to do.

Aang’s vapor-trail-laugh gave her the cardinal directions and guided her towards which way was up. His arm curled around her waist like the seatbelts that had kept them anchored when they hit turbulence two months ago and dropped 400 feet.

Katara didn’t notice when next she blushed so hard that her vision went black-splotchy again.

But Aang, without pausing his conversation, was already tugging her closer so she all but pressed right against his heart.

His laugh died out. His chest slowly expanded.

Breathing.

Katara smiled.

Breathing was a thing she still had to do.

...

When Katara finally got her wings, Aang couldn’t have been more proud.

Sokka puffed his chest. “This is Katara, my flying sister.”

“Sokka, please…”

“Yeah, Sokka.” Aang was a grinning shadow touching her shoulder and a reminder to smile brushing her side. “Katara isn’t your ‘flying sister’.”

“Thank you, Aang—”

Aang hugged her from behind and held her so tightly that he curled over and started to eclipse her. “Katara is my flying girlfriend~”

Aang rubbed his cheek to hers. Katara grumbled and fought fate to keep angry as long as she could. “You both are insufferable.” She kissed Aang’s cheek like she was swatting a mosquito, but it only made him giggle and hold her tighter.

Sokka pretended to gag and uttered ‘Oogies’ like a mantra.

Katara blushed, lost her slippery grip on the smile fighting to make itself seen, and looked at her father just as the shutter on Hakoda’s camera went off.

...Aang carried the photo on his person like it was a medical device so vital that he would die if he was ever without it.

“Do you have to keep it there?” Katara pulled one switch and then two, and she side-eyed her smirking First Officer.

Aang ignored her and adjusted the photo pinned to the gauges in front of him. His smile got a little bigger, his eyes a little softer. He looked down at the clouds below them and then up at the heavens beyond. “...The stars sure are beautiful, tonight.”

His hand found hers—they were at an altitude that required little more than autopilot, but it was still breaking regulation.

Katara gently squeezed his fingers. “Yeah. They are.”

...

All of their nights melted into a routine that felt like the same night played over and over.

Katara wouldn’t have had it any other way.

She didn’t mind when Aang put up a fuss just because he could and because he liked to get her flustered. She didn’t even mind when he cocooned himself in the blankets and pouted in a silent demand for five more minutes.

He was only playing. He could be plenty serious if he wanted.

Like the time he crabbed the plane onto an icy runway in an emergency landing. Or like the time he dove into the belly of the plane to give CPR to an elderly passenger.

His seriousness could only go so far, though. He truly was a child at heart. There was nothing wrong with that, of course. Something forever young could never grow brittle and die.

Like the way he blushed every time she reached for his hand. Or like the little hitch to his voice that took over his words whenever she hugged him.

He could hardly speak when he asked her to marry him.

Katara wasn’t that much better off, but neither of them had needed words for the longest time. They sat side-by-side in the nose of the plane and ‘spoke’ in the silence for hours on end.

Kisses were quiet, anyways.

Well, not entirely.

Aang laughed, absolutely giddy, every time, no matter how much or how often they did.

Katara’s laugh drifted in his vapor trail as a gentle hum that made his smile impossibly bigger.

Then, and only then, did it feel like she had finally gotten back what he had stolen—all those years ago—from her.

...

His voice was a song, and his love bled into every worded lyric. They were the warm purrs of an engine that would never fail, and they made Katara’s stomach fall and bounce heaven-ward like her wheels had just left the ground.

When she danced with him, every step felt like lift-off. Every turn gave her g-forces that had her sinking into him to keep from being blown away.

The wedding was over, their guests were gone, but every star and galaxy crowded the sky to witness their love for each other.

This was her captain and co-pilot—her husband and best friend for life.

His name was Aang. He was very tall and quite proud of it, though he made himself eye-level with every person he met.

He was a simple monk and a dirty thief.

But Katara finally had back what was hers.

What was hers was named Aang.

He was the kindest soul she’d ever met.

He kept her grounded even though her feet never touched the earth when she was with him.

He was the part of her that she loved most.

His kisses were g-forces.

His ‘I love you’s were free-falling.

His hugs were the wings that handed her the sky.

His smiles were the spirit that held her aloft.

His name was Aang.

He was hers.

He was the kindest soul she’d ever met.

And Katara would remind him of how much she loved him even long after they were both tied to the earth.

*********************************

.

.

If you spotted that reference to Tao philosophy, I give you a cookie🍪☺️

#kataang #Aang #Katara #avatar the last airbender #atla #modern!au #pilot!au #Sokka #captain!aang #cocaptain!katara #kataang wedding #first dates #Aang is a ~little shit~ #littleshit!Aang #friends to lovers❤️ #this made me smile thank you for the prompt anon☺️ #fic request #myfanfictiontag #post

[catrasredemption-moved]

I'm really struggling and hurting with what's going on in the fandom right now as im losing the only comfort i had in quarantine. could you please write something happy post-s5 catradora based on noelle's statement that once Adora realises she's in love with Catra she'd be SO into the reslationship?

((I get you, Nonners <3 *hugs* Again, white af, so I’m going to limit my comments, but - it isn’t all downhill from here. Try not to give up)) (((Disclaimer it’s almost 4am and my sleeping meds are kicking in, so I’m sorry if this isn’t completely coherent)))

Adora had never half-assed anything in her life.

And she’d be damned if she was going to start now, at a time when being fully on her game was more important than ever.

“I just want to do something for her!”

Bow practically had hearts in his eyes. Glimmer was a little less impressed. “I’m pretty sure if you just stayed in bed and napped together all day, she’d be happy.”

“I know, I know.” Adora sighed. “But that’s not - I want to do something good. Like, really show her that I love her.”

“Take a vacation.”

“Glimmer!”

“What? I’m serious,” Glimmer insisted. “If you just like... took an entire week off to do nothing but spend time with her, she’d probably be speechless. Which I would pay to see, by the way.”

Adora frowned, thinking it over. It was true that Catra would probably be floored by Adora taking a week off, no need for She-Ra or anything, just for her.

“I don’t know. Do you think it’s enough? What should we do? What do people do on vacation?”

“You could just travel?” Bow suggested. “You know, get as far from Bright Moon as you can then call Glimmer for a ride back or something when you’re done.”

It was... actually a good idea, Adora thought. They’d spent their whole lives in the Fright Zone wondering what was beyond the Whispering Woods. They could actually see things now. They could see a world full of magic!

The happy thoughts died almost as quickly as they had started. “I... I dunno. I mean, it sounds great, but that would take more than a week, and-”

“Take a month,” Glimmer encouraged. “Take six months, honestly. You guys saved the universe. If anyone’s earned time off, it’s you.”

“That’s a lot of time.”

“And you’ve earned it,” Bow assured her. “Maybe not six months - I mean, you should take six months but I know that would drive you nuts. But take a month. Go places. Spend time together. I think it’d be good for you guys.”

Adora chewed on her thumbnail for a moment before slowly nodding and smiling. “Yeah. Okay.”

This whole thing had started with Catra not feeling like a priority in Adora’s life, after all. A month together would be the perfect way to show Adora she was invested and she cared. Perfect. * * * * * * * * * * * * Catra didn’t get back to Bright Moon that night. “Your cat passed out on my couch,” Mermista informed Adora flatly, turning the screen so Adora could see Catra curled up in a tight ball, sleeping.

“Is she... okay?”

“She’s dumb. Sea Hawk found her almost sick with heat stroke and had to drag her away from the house she was working on.”

Adora’s heart jumped to her throat. “She’s... She’s really trying hard to help with Salineas.”

“And I appreciate it,” Mermista admitted in a rare moment of genuine honesty. “But I’ll appreciate it less if she kills herself in the process. If she’s going to die, I should at least get the first shot.”

“Glimmer can come get her, if you want.”

“Nah, she already feels like hell. She can sleep it off on the couch.”

Adora scrubbed her eyes, smiling weakly. “Thanks, Mermista. Sorry, I guess I should’ve warned you, she gets really intense when she actually puts effort into things.”

“She’s not someone I would’ve pegged for a workaholic. Want me to wake her up to say... I dunno, good night or whatever you guys say to each other?”

“Nah, let her sleep.” Adora wanted Catra home, wanted to talk to her about a vacation, but she was sleeping, and that was more important than anything. She’d been exhausting herself for nearly a month working on Salineas. And while it was earning her some begrudging tolerant will with Mermista (who firmly believed actions were better than any apology Catra could ever say), Adora was worried. A vacation would really do her some good. * * * * * * * * * * * * Glimmer and Adora went to Salineas the next morning to get Catra. They thought it was reasonable to assume she was still sleeping off the heat stroke at the palace.

“Nope, she took off before I woke up,” Mermista said flatly when they found her. “Sea Hawk tried to find her, but he’s not exactly subtle about it, so she probably had plenty of time to hide.”

“Great.” Adora sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll... track her down.”

“Tell her if she’s going to keel over to get out of my kingdom. She can die on Bright Moon’s turf.”

“Tell her not to die,” Glimmer added.

“Yes, and yes.”

Mermista pointed Adora in the direction of where they’d found Catra yesterday. She approached a half built house, quietly climbing up the ladder at the side and finding Catra working on the roofing.

“Seriously?” she asked, resting her arms on the edge of the roof. Catra looked up, surprised.

“What?”

She looked exhausted, her face flushed red. Adora sighed. “Are you coming home any time soon?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She went back to work, distracted. “Sorry, I dunno what happened yesterday.”

“You made yourself sick working in the sun all day.”

“Sea Hawk overreacted.” Catra waved Adora off. “He’s just scared you’d kill him if you found he let me overwork myself.”

“Sooooo you’re admitting it?”

“No, that’s just his logic.”

Adora shook her head. “Come on, take the day off and come home. I wanna talk to you about something.”

“I really need to finish this.”

There was a weird moment where Adora thought she understood how Catra had felt for years. Catra had been working nonstop on Salineas for a month, and Adora was starting to feel a little ignored.

But she also understood Catra’s side. She took a deep breath, hauling herself up onto the roof and crawling over to Catra, gently putting her hand on Catra’s and stopping the hammer. “Hey. I get it, okay? But you’re not responsible for fixing all of Salineas.”

“Actually, I kind of am,” Catra replied bitterly. She was far too warm for it to be comfortable.

“I’m pretty sure Hordak could stand to take a little more responsibility than he has.” Adora couldn’t help but be a bit bitter about that. He had mostly stayed in Dryl, working with Entrapta on tech that would help with the rebuilding process. And that was great and all, but it wasn’t much compared to Catra being out here every day working herself half to death.

Catra let out a long sigh, finally relaxing her hand. “I just... need to do this, Adora. Okay?”

“I get that, but you don’t need to do it at the expense of your own health. And yes, I know I’m a hypocrite. But I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Adora squeezed her hand. “And that’s okay. Have you eaten anything?”

“No.” The honesty was nice.

“Did you skip eating because you felt sick?” Catra nodded. “Okay. So... you can leave with me, or Mermista can wash you out to sea so you don’t die in her kingdom.”

Catra looked around, and sighed, finally nodding. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Getting her back to solid ground was a bit dicey, but she held herself up and managed to walk back to the palace without much help.

“She lives,” Mermista said dryly when they arrived back at the palace. Glimmer smiled, although she couldn’t hide her worry.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine.” Catra smothered a yawn, scrubbing her eyes.

“Picture of health all right,” Mermista deadpanned. “Look, you built like, an entire neighborhood on your own. Come back when you’re not burning up.”

Glimmer rested a hand on Catra’s shoulder, wincing when she felt the heat radiating off of her. Adora took a moment to whisper, “Thank you for taking care of her,” to Mermista. The princess shrugged.

“Yeah, you know. Whatever.”

Catra was not happy with the teleport back to Bright Moon. Glimmer put them close enough to the bed so she could drop straight onto it, groaning. Good luck, the queen mouthed before disappearing. Adora went to the bathroom, wet a washcloth with cold water, and returned to the bed, resting the cloth on the back of Catra’s neck. She shivered.

“Cold.”

“Yes, because you’re burning hot.” Adora settled in next to her. “So, I had an idea, and I already know you’re going to argue with it, but hear me out.” Catra hummed in affirmation. “I was thinking we should take some time off. You and me. I was thinking traveling, but now I’m thinking maybe go visit Frosta and spend a week in the snow.”

“Oh hell no,” Catra muttered. “I am not going anywhere with snow. That’s where I draw the line.”

“But you’re agreeing to the vacation?”

“I dunno.” Catra raised her head. “When? Can it wait until Salineas is-”

“No.” Adora gently clasped Catra’s face in her hands. “I know this is hard for you, but you can’t hurt yourself trying to fix things. That won’t accomplish anything, and nobody wants to see you hurting, not even Mermista.”

Catra looked ready to argue, but something in her expression flickered. “You’re willing to take time off just to do nothing?”

“Not nothing. To spend time with you. We can hold each other accountable. You keep me strapped down, and I’ll lie on top of you to make sure you don’t run off to Salineas.”

Tears slowly filled Catra’s eyes, and Adora panicked for a moment before Catra spoke. “You’d... really take time off to spend time with me?”

“Of course.” Adora kissed her gently. “I love you, Catra. And I know we’ve been through a lot and done a lot that doesn’t really... support that, and I want to prove it now. And I want to take care of you.”

The moment of silence between them was comfortable. The same silence they could have spent hours in at one point in their lives. “I love you too,” Catra finally murmured. “Maybe taking some off to spend together wouldn’t be so bad. If only to see you try and relax.”

“Ha. Ha.” Adora grabbed the washcloth and began gently wiping Catra’s face. “Glimmer gave us a month, but I’m pretty sure she’ll be happy if we want to take more. Let’s start with getting you better, then we can figure out what we want to do from there. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Catra snuggled into Adora’s chest, taking a deep breath. “That sounds good.”

It had worked. Adora couldn’t believe it. “So uh... I’m doing this relationship thing pretty good, huh?”

Catra snorted, reaching up to push her face away. “Get over yourself.”

#catradora #catradora fic #Mystery Person #Sam Answers #askbox fic