#hopefully get them moved somewhere more suitable to their needs and away from each other

[mydarllinglover]

Alone || As It Was

Previous

Soon, winter had passed, the Dixons had settled back into Alexandria, and the house had gone under some serious redecorating, a passion project for Natalia, whilst Daryl had resumed his old position of hunter for the group.

Firstly, the twins had been given an updated room for their age, a crib and a room full of diapers wouldn't be suitable for them anymore, though back in the cabin, they had still shared a bed, they liked sleeping beside one another, cuddled up with their twin, Natalia had spent about a week on their room, repainting the walls a soft pale blue, with a mural of a woodland gathering on one of the walls, from one of their favourite books, a big bed, for the girls to share, she had also hunted down some learning tools and toys that are more age appropriate for six year olds, that they'd enjoy and hopefully stimulate their brains as they start their schooling journey soon.

Natalia had also contemplated the idea of putting art supplies in their room, but after careful evaluation, ultimately decided to store it somewhere safe and hidden and to be used on the porch, where messes and fights wouldn't become so costly.

Lydia had moved in with them, which was something that Evie did not appreciate, but knew there were no other choices, she hadn't brought up her distaste, until Daryl and Natalia had broke it to her, that her and Lydia would have to share the basement as Archie was getting old enough that he wouldn't be able to share with his parents.

Though, Natalia had tried her best to be accommodating to both teen girls, splitting the room in half, and separating the space with a curtain and furniture, to give them both space and privacy from one another, but Rosita had also let it be known, that she had offered a bedroom at hers and Eugene's old house, if the girl ever needed to get away, the pair had grown even more close as they dealt with their griefs, being there for each other, and Rosita being able to give Evie some adult advice and supervision that isn't her parents.

Archie had took his first steps in the January, only two months before his first birthday, which was celebrated with only their close friends, keeping it small, not only for their son's benefit, but also for the girl that the people of Alexandria still saw as a threat. 

When Spring had finally come, Daryl took this as the opportunity to teach all of his girls a very important skill, something that could've potentially been very helpful to them in the world before, how to ride a bike.

Surprisingly, the twins had caught on very quickly, Bambi, who loved Daryls bike, and begged him many times to let her ride it by herself, was very excited when he proposed the idea, and had nailed it in just under twenty minutes, must've been in her blood.

But Daisy on the other hand, had taken a full day, as she was too nervous to hurt herself, something that had surprised the parents, considering how adventurous and courageous she is, but Daryl had worked with her on it, and promised that he wouldn't let her get hurt in even the slightest, and she had finally managed it.

Only a couple of days after the twins sixth birthday, the people of Alexandria travelled to Oceanside, where the two communities, The Kingdom and The Hilltop, had started a "bootcamp" training course, to get everyone and their fighting abilities up to par.

Daryl had taken Bambi, Dog, and Evie with him, whilst Natalia stayed home with Daisy, Archie, as well as Lydia.

They knew how the girl felt about having to fight against her people, and neither of them trusted anyone looking over her, plus having Archie there would just be a massive distraction, Daisy was to keep her sane, besides, they were trying to separate the twins a bit, get them used to not being glued to each other, they wanted to be realistic and prepared, so the idea was to parent trap them, preparent trap them, when one was in England and the other was in the countryside, in another country.

Natalia was well aware that her husband had bribed their six year old daughter to stay in Alexandria, considering all the other kids were leaving to have a beach week without her, she didn't take well to being left out, especially to help her mom take care of a baby and an older teenager.

It turned out, that later in the 6th day, Judith had found one of the skin masks in a pile of stuff that RJ had collected, scaring herself and everyone else around her.

"The kids found it by the estuary." Aaron reported over the comms. "The river must've carried it down."

"What does it mean?" Gabriel asked, who was sat beside Natalia, after dragging her into the radio room. "Are they back?"

"We don't know." Aaron replied. "But Alexandria should go on lockdown just in case."

Static sounded, before the button clicked again.

"Hold on." Michonne's voice told them. "We don't have evidence to justify that."

"Mich!" Natalia grumbled, when she was given the small opening to talk through the mic.

"My official recommendation is that everyone should stay on alert until further notice. Eyes and ears open. That's it." She continued.

Natalia went to snatch the mic, but Gabriel seemed to be quicker.

"Copy tha-" He went to reply, but she was stronger.

The others could hear the struggle over the mic.

"What? May I remind you what we've been doing for the past decade?!" Natalia told her. "Being on alert is what you should be thinking! My baby is on that beach, she was right there and... and you want us to just wait for more evidence, what more evidence do you need, Michonne! I want her home, now!" She forced her hand back off the button, throwing herself back into the chair.

"Nat, I understand that, okay, she's fine."

"Michonne, don't you dare feed me bullshit, not you."

"Bambi's fine, weren't even bothered, she's out there right now, teaching RJ how to shoot." Daryl's voice came through, slightly easing her panic. 

"She's my little girl, Daryl."

"Do they need some privacy?" Cyndie asked the other people in the room.

"They're fine." Aaron shook his head.

"Hey, she's alright, we're gonna turn back soon as we can, alright? Ma lil girl too, an Daisy, where she at?"

"Teaching Lydia how to read their favourite book, apparently she's taking over bedtime stories." She sniffed, a small smile inching onto her face. "How's Eves?"

"Been here the whole time, was actually waiting for you to ask."

"Oh, sorry honey, you doing okay?"

"Nat, this is kinda an emergency only thing, not a phone call over a cup of t-"

The look Natalia gave the priest soon got him to shut up.

"Hey, if you want us all back soon, we gotta get ready to go." Michonne told her. "Over and out."

"That was your fault." Natalia pointed at the man sat beside her.

"Excuse me." He laughed, putting his hands in the air, up in surrender.

"Helping you off that rock was one of the dumbest things I ever did." She mumbled to herself, getting off the chair and leaving the room, releasing Laura of babysitting duty.

"We're gonna have a meeting about this, I want you there, Nat." He called after her.

"He would not stop crying since you left." The blonde scowled at her when she reached her houses porch, waving a building block at Archie, encouraging him to build a tower.

"Mommy!" Daisy squealed, throwing herself at Natalia.

"Hi, baby, did you come from Auntie Ro's house?" She smiled at her, but the expression dropped when she looked at Laura.

Laura shrugged.

"She's a runner."

"Mommy, Auntie Rosita was teaching me how to box, like this." She begun pouncing around and hitting the air instead of Natalia.

"Oh wow, my lil Rocky, where's Lydia?" Natalia asked, picking the small girl up, hugging her tightly.

"Ugh, she got annoyed whenever I said she was wrong, so I made Gracie babysit her." Daisy threw her head back in annoyance as Natalia struggled to not drop her. "They're in school."

"Speaking of which, why isn't she in school?"

"Oh, Look at you, meddling in my business, I ask you to watch them for five minutes and you couldn't even do that."

"Yeah, Laura." Daisy blew a raspberry at her. "'Sides, my daddy said that as long as Bambi's not at school, I don't have to go to school, so stay out of it."

"Yeah, that's great parenting, right there." That annoying nails on a chalkboard voice came from the tomato's, since Negan had saved the twins lives back in winter, and had a "secret chat" with Michonne, her and Gabriel had discussed the Negan situation, he was now allowed to leave his cell only on the account that he is put to work and under complete supervision.

Everyone had also promised to keep the Negan-saving-Daryl's-daughters-lives thing, an lockdown secret.

"Negan, stay out of this, no one needs your input on anything, alright." Natalia turned on him. "Hey, lovey, why don't you practice what Aunt Rosita showed you, on Negan, okay? You don't have to air punch him, though." She let her daughter down, who ran straight for the man, only just catching the girl as she swung at him with her tiny fists, giggling loudly.

"Really?" Laura folded her arms across her chest.

"I have my reasons, stop prying, besides' Brandon?" She turned to Negan's "Patrol officer."

"Yes, Ma'am?" He asked almost too eagerly.

"You mind watching Daisy as well, as your pet, gotta council meeting to attend to, and someone likes to gossip." Natalia asked him, picking up Archie, who she didn't have to worry about bringing to meetings.

"Yes, Miss Natalia, of course, anything for you." The young man blushed, bowing at her, as Daisy and Negan both watched unamused, and slightly grossed out.

"Maybe I should practise on him instead." Daisy whispered to Negan.

"Good idea." He nodded, breaking an tomato into pieces giving the young Dixon a piece to try.

"My Daddy calls people like that-"

"Thank you Brandon, Daisy, sweetie, we don't have to repeat everything Daddy says, do we? What are you doing? She doesn't like tomato's."

"I like Negan's Tomato's, Mommy, he picks the best ones."

Natalia froze at that small sentence from her innocent child's mouth, Daisy had no idea the weight that small sentence carried, because it didn't matter, instead of in her home, Alexandria, with two of her children and surrounded by friends, and foe, she was back in that clearing the one where two of her friends were brutally taken from her, as she was humiliated and blamed, before being captured by the very man who was feeding her daughter.

The doors of the town hall slammed open, Lydia stormed out of it, twirling her stick in her hand, before releasing the bottom, which revealed an chain, that she waved around like a nun chuck.

"Hey, DeDe, why don't you come join in on the meeting, I'll braid your hair whilst your mom does the important talking and listening." Rosita, who had headed towards the hall, but had over heard the very familiar sentence too, offered, covering her eyes from sunlight, as she looked at the six year old. "You can show me your truck collection, too."

"Okay, but I hid it somewhere secret, I don't want the others touching them without Bam." Daisy explained, getting up and walking towards her aunt.

"Daisy, we've told you about sharing with your friends."

"Mommy, all my friends went to the beach without me, those losers ain't my friends."

"Aren't." Gracie corrected, as she walked away from the hall, which was also the school.

"See." She rolled her eyes, walking into the building.

"Gracie, honey, just ignore her, 'kay, she's not used to being without her sisters, she doesn't know how to express it, but she doesn't mean it, okay?" Natalia explained to the young blonde girl.

"I know, Aunt Nat." She smiled.

"Go hide in my house, away from this." Natalia looked towards Lydia's practise, making sure  no one was at risk of getting in the way, just in case. "Why don't you draw your daddy some more pictures, he loves them."

"Okay!" She beamed.

"Lydia, how did reading go?" Natalia asked the obviously frustrated girl.

"Great." The girl gritted through her teeth, hitting the air especially hard with her stick.

"Great, then you'll be ready to read to Archie tonight, for bed." Natalia told her, adjusting her son on her hip, as she walked towards the hall.

She could hear the annoyance Lydia felt for that idea as the thwacks and bangs got louder, more aggressive.

The meeting hadn't gone great, Natalia found herself watching Rosita and Daisy play with Daisy's "secret" stolen collection of toy trucks, than what was actually being said.

She was busy putting the kids to bed as well as keeping her promise on making Lydia read to Archie, Daisy had turned the offer down, before it was even voiced, considering the "lesson" earlier.

Father Gabriel was outside, in the street giving orders to the people of Alexandria, he was going against Michonne's wishes and putting the place on lockdown.

That was when a loud whooshing noise sounded from the sky, before a big crash.

"What was that?" Lydia jumped up, looking around like a scared cat, as Archie began to cry.

"Mommy?!" Daisy yelled from her bedroom.

"Okay, wait here, I'm gonna go see what's going on, okay, you're all fine, Lydia, I need you to watch them, okay? just for a second."

"But-" The teenager tried to resist.

"Lydia, listen to me, I've just given you a job, now you need to do it whilst I do mine, you know how to comfort Archie, and to get him to stop crying, I need you to settle him, Daisy, honey, can you come here please, I need you to stay with your brother and Lydia." She called, but Daisy was already running into the room.

"Mommy! I heard a huge sound, is Daddy and my sisters and Dog okay?!" She said so quickly, that Natalia almost didn't catch it, almost.

"I'm sure they are, honey, but Mommy's gotta go check, you stay in here, you hear me? You don't leave unless Lydia tells you to, okay? And that's only in a life and death situation, I mean it, can you promise me?"

"But, Mommy-"

"Daisy Caroline, can you promise me you're going to stay in this room? If you can't, I can't go and check if everyone's okay."

"I promise." She nodded, her hazel eyes swam with sincerity.

"That's my good girl." Natalia kissed her daughters head. "I won't be a minute, okay?"

It had turned out that the very loud noise was an satalite from space, that had of course, fallen into Alpha's territory, causing an forest fire that would eventually reach Oceanside, after killing all their game.

The group had been forced to cross onto their land to put out the fire, and even with their good deed, came consequences.

For thirteen hours, after the arrival of the others from Oceanside, herds of walkers approached the Alexandria borders, Aaron had led groups of fighters out as they delt with the threat, but it was unrelenting.

"Just a constant wave after wave." Aaron relayed to the rest of the Council, including Daryl, Carol and Michonne.

"This is her." Carol commented.

"You know your training. Lock it down." Michonne told the man.

Another hour had passed, they stood around the gates, staring at the growing herd, bigger than the last ones.

For two days and two nights, they took out walkers from the inside.

"Y'know, this kinda reminds me of back in Georgia." Natalia breathed, pulling out a spear from an young looking walker.

"How so?" Michonne asked.

"Fence duty, remember that time, just as the sickness was settling in, and the fence collapsed, me, Maggie, Sasha, Glenn, Rick and Daryl, were taking them out, until we had to get rid of the piglets."

"Man, Rick was crushed." Daryl snorted, as he thought about it for a second, before taking out another walker.

"Yeah, and yet he got mad at me an Carl when we named them." She scoffed.

Soon enough, they had fully taken out a wave, giving themselves a break.

"Eugh, Mommy, Daddy, you both reek, so bad." Daisy gagged, her and Bambi plugged their noses as they coloured at the table, Evie was in the front room, playing with Archie, until he followed his parents into the kitchen, forcing her to have to get up and follow, too. "Look, even Dog can't stand it." She pointed at the dog who was also keeping his distance, sat between the twins chairs.

"Thanks, lovey." Natalia turned the tap, cupping her hands as they filled with water, splashing her face.

"Are all the walkers gone?" Bambi asked.

"Fer now." Daryl answered, bending down to catch Archie as he sprinted towards the table leg. "Where's Lydia?"

"In the room, she's hiding from everyone." Evie explained, pulling walker flyaways out of Natalia's hair.

"Negan told her that she's the target for everyone's pointed anger, she's waiting for the patchforks to turn up."

"Daisy!" Evie turned on her younger sister.

"Its pitchforks." Bambi corrected.

"And how do you know this?" Natalia asked, raising a brow.

"I'm a good listener." Daisy shrugged.

"You were eavesdropping outside our door, last night, when Mom and Dad told you to stay in your room." Evie folded her arms as she glared at her.

"I was not!" She denied.

"Was, too"

"Daisy, don't bother, you're as much of a bad liar as yer mother." Daryl told her.

"What have we told you about being a sneak and a gossip." Natalia sighed.

"But Mommy-"

"No buts." She then muttered to Daryl, discreetly. "I should go talk to her, before giving Negan a slap."

"Could do a lot worse than that." He grumbled.

Just as she was about to head down to the basement, one of the radios went off.

"Dixons, we need ya back out here, for clear up, all hands on deck."

"Kids, come on, get some fresh air." Daryl told them as they prepare themselves to get back to work.

"Do we get to help kill walkers?" Bambi asked, as the twins went to attempt to grab their bows, that resided on a tall hook by the front door, that Natalia had to lean on her tip toes to reach.

"Maybe." Natalia fed into their excitement, whilst Daryl grabbed their weapons, putting Archie back down. "Eves, why don't you go check on her?"

"She's fine." The blonde said all too quickly.

"Evie, please? She doesn't need an nagging adult, she needs a friend, to know she's not alone."

"We're not friends." She pressed.

"Take Archie with you, then meet us outside, you can both help."

"Natalia, Daryl, these walkers will not be taking time for the both of you to diddly dally." Eugenes voice sounded.

"Eugene, shut up and give us a second." Natalia pressed the button and spoke into her walkie.

"Yes, Ma'am, my deepest apologies." He replied a moment later.

"Daddy, he's one of them, isn't he?" Daisy asked, looking up at her father, her brows furrowed.

"Yup." He patted her head.

"There's a lot of them around here." She grumbled.

"Evie, downstairs now, take your brother, girls, come on, you can go play with the other kids."

"No, we wanna help." Bambi told her.

"I'll think about it."

"Daddy, we wanna help."

"Listen to ya Ma."

"He's one too." Daisy rolled her eyes at her twin.

"A big one." Bambi nodded. "I wanna be like Mommy when I'm big."

"Powerful." The twins frowns turned into identical grins.

"Wait till you both hit puberty." Evie commented, picking up Archie and walking towards the basement.

"How long till the next wave hits?" Michonne asked Eugene, as the people of Alexandria got rid of the walker corpses from the front of the gates.

"One hour from the north, two from the south." Eugene answered her. "Northern waves thicker than flea's on a farm dog, but the southern's more dispersed. By my estimation, we'll be fighting into the night again."

"Yeah, can't push 'em too much further." Daryl commented.

"I have eyes." Michonne snapped.

"And a lot of weight on the shoulders, drop the attitude." Natalia warned her. "We ain't the enemies."

"Sorry. I'm just tired."

"We all are." Daryl shrugged off her snappiness.

"Seriously, how do you do it, how are you still so... perky and alive?" Michonne asked Natalia. "What happened to you?"

"Hey, I got two seventeen year olds in one room, two six year olds in another and a baby, you either nap where possible or you get over it." She stated, looking around.

"Hey, heads up." Daryl caught their attention, once more, walking towards something, which so happened to be one of the mask freaks walking confidently towards them.

"The fuck are you doing?" Natalia asked, out of pure surprise.

"The north border. Now." The masked woman ordered.

"Call off your walkers." Michonne told her.

"Not us."

"Yeah, right." Daryl scoffed.

"Not. Us."

"Bull. Shit." Natalia folded her arms.

"Go to the border, lay down your weapons and wait."

"Wait for what?" Daryl asked her.

"Her." She then walked away.

"Hey, she was on our property, that means we get to kill her, right?" Natalia pointed out, her finger outstretched to the retreating back.

"Nat, come on. Meeting." Michonne told her.

"Eurgh, I've been to so many just this week." She whined.

The people gathered in the hall, once again, chattering away to one another or sitting deep in thought.

Lydia was sat in the middle of the meeting, Daryl nor Natalia strayed too far from her.

"Alright!" Michonne called the attention of the community. "Is this your mother?" She asked the girl.

"No." She shook her head hesitantly. "I don't think it is."

"Why she want to talk with us?" Daryl asked her.

"You crossed into her land. Again. You have to answer for that."

"So did her messenger." Natalia reminded.

"We don't have to do anything." Aaron said. "We could just not go."

"That's a bad idea."

"We're already under attack." Dante spoke up. 

"Yeah!" The people cheered.

"It isn't her." Lydia was sure of her self now. "If she wanted you dead, she'd send the horde. All of it, not just a few waves at a time."

"Maybe she's trying to wear us down first." Carol theorised.

"Or, as I relayed to you all at the beginning of this meeting, there's plausible reason to believe that the satellite and fire..."

"I don't want to hear about the damn satellite anymore, Eugene!" Margo cut him off.

"Well, are you going to think of any reasons as to what's going on, or offer to pull your weight, or anything but complain?" Natalia asked her.

"My friends died trying to save yours, and ended up with their heads on spikes." She then stood from her chair. "The Highwaymen want justice!"

"Yeah!"

"So all I want to hear from you, is that you're gonna take a dozen of us to meet these freaks at the border and that we're gonna take that lead bitch's head off!!"

"We cut it off!" Gage agreed. "And then we'll put their heads on spikes!"

"Gage, you couldn't kill a fly, even if it was frozen to the wall." Evie looked at him with disgust as the crowd got louder.

Siddiq jumped from his chair, scratching at his throat before leaving the room.

Then Michonne got up, and all talking ceased.

"How many walkers did you see in Alpha's horde?" She asked Daryl.

"Tens of thousands." He thought out loud.

"Ah. So... What's your plan for taking them out?" She directed her question to Margo.

She was silent.

"Oh, that wasn't rhetorical." She clarified.

"I don't have one." The woman finally admitted.

"Ah. Does anybody else?" She asked the room, but no one spoke up. "If she sends that horde, that's it! Right now, all she wants to do is talk. And we are going to listen. Now, while we are doing that, everyone here needs to focus on what's coming in from the north and the south." She then took a deep breath in, collecting herself. "We're tired. We are on edge. And it is going to get worse before it gets better. But we aren't gonna get through it at all if we do not act as one."

Once the meeting was over, Michonne, Carol, Daryl, and Natalia planned out the groups.

"Three objectives means three groups. Gabriel will take point in guarding the gate from the northern wave... while Aaron will take some troops and handle the southern wave, breaking it up before it hits the wall. That leaves us, and the border."

"Unarmed." Daryl reminded.

"You're really going in there unarmed?" Carol asked.

"We got no choice."

"I'm never fully unarmed." Natalia shook her head. "But I think I'm gonna stay back."

"You're coming with." Michonne gave her no room to argue.

"I'll find myself more useful going with Aaron or staying here on gate duty."

"And I'll find you more useful with us, that's final."

"When did you become the boss of me?"

"Since you became less reckless and more of a stay at home mommy."

"Hey,-" She raised her finger to point at Michonne.

"Negan's going with Aaron. And you wanna beat that bitch from earlier up, who'll be on gate duty."

"Fine." She scowled, walking away to grab her things, Daryl soon turned on his heel to follow, he didn't say anything, he wanted her with him.

It was dark when they reached the border, receding their sight, massively.

They took a silent moment, staring at the wooden spikes, remembering what was there only a few months ago, the heartbreak still lingered in the air.

Then they dropped their weapons to the ground and waited.

Daryl moved to stand beside Carol, as she stood at her sons place, her weapons still on her.

"You alright?" He asked.

"I... need a minute." She told him, dropping her bow.

"FYI, I did not turn into a stay at home "Mommy." Natalia told Michonne.

"Girl." Michonne looked at her about to give a proper reply but was soon cut off.

"Heads up." Daryl told everyone, after he paced around looking for any signs of them.

a small herd appeared from the fog, stumbling towards them.

"What the fuck?" Natalia sighed, wishing she had fought harder to stay at home with her babies.

Alpha took off her mask, walking more quickly towards them.

"There was one rule between our people." She spoke loudly. "One law. Stay where you are. Yet you disobey."

"That fire would've destroyed your land." Daryl explained.

"Fire's nature to burn." She replied. "We have no conflict with nature."

"It could've wiped out one of our communities." Michonne tried. "We were not gonna sit back and let that happen. You can understand that. We crossed one time."

"Three times." Alpha corrected. "During the fire, you walked my land. And during the winter storm, you walked my land. During your search along the river, you and the man with the metal arm walked my land. That's three times. We are always watching. What did I tell you about crossing my border?" She walked towards the spikes, facing Daryl. "You have to be punished."

The other masks drew weapons.

Natalia was already prepared to fight.

"But..." Alpha started. "I consider context."

"You can consider basic hygiene, con-"

"Nat!" Michonne snapped.

Alpha stared at the brunette for a moment, before continuing.

"There will be no bloodshed this time."

"So what do you want?" Michonne was sick of the woman, as they all were.

"Land." She answered. "The creek that winds into the valley. That is your new southern border. We will mark the new border to the north."

"That'll cut off our hunting grounds." Carol pointed out.  "We don't have to stand here and listen to this..."

"Carol!"

"She's right!" Natalia stuck up for the woman. "This freakazoids only got power cause we're giving into it, we've faced way worse threats than this, I've faced way worse than this-"

"Natalia!"

Daryl came up from behind her, turning the woman away from Alpha, covering her mouth, his arm around her waist.

"This"... what?" Alpha asked.

"This bullshit." Carol finished.

"That's it. Come on, we're done." Daryl pushed Natalia along, going to walk away, as the others followed. "Let's go."

"We're not." Alpha halted. "Not until these two lower their eyes to my feet."

Natalia rolled her eyes.

"She ain't doing that." Daryl denied, keeping a tight grip on her.

"You should fear me." Alpha told them.

"I don't, none of us do." Carol told her. "I look at you and I feel nothing at all."

"Is that right?" Alpha smiled. "The blond boy... screamed your name just before we took his head. Her daughters, too." She looked at Natalia.

Carol pulled out a gun, shooting at Alpha, but Michonne knocked it away, pushing Carol, as the masks aimed their weapons.

Daryl made the mistake of letting go of Natalia, grabbing Carol, holding her, giving Natalia the advantage to strike, throwing her fist into the bald woman's cheek.

"You ever speak on my daughter or her son's name again, lady, I will rip your-"

"Nat, no!" Michonne shouted, as Laura and Griffin, a guard, dragged Natalia backwards. "I apologise, for my friends." Michonne turned to Alpha, who was holding her face. "We have not slept. And you know what Carol lost."

Alpha turned to Carol.

"I forgive you. Mother to Mother." She then picked Henry's spike up. assessing them all, her eyes falling on Natalia. "This is my land, now. You better run."

"Come on. Let's go." Daryl told everyone, grabbing his, Carol's and Natalia's belongings, whilst dragging his friend away, Laura pushed his wife along whilst Michonne waited a moment, staring down Alpha.

Next

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #carl grimes #carol peletier #daryl fanfiction #glenn rhee #michonne #rick grimes #daryl x you #twd daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl dixion x reader #daryldixonalonetwd #darylxnatalia #daryl imagines #daryl dixion imagine

[ask-professor-laurel]

Personal Field Notes #006: Dragonite!

This one’s a bit self-indulgent, but admittedly I’m just getting to sit down and properly chill out for the first time in days as we deal with an… unexpected guest in the woods. This batch of notes is gonna be off the top of my head for the most part, and the bias will be obvious, but what can I say? I’ll very likely get to doing one of these for each of the species I have on my team, so keep an eye out for notes on Vespiquen and Appletun in the future. But, let’s talk Dragonite.

Dragonites are like most three-stage evolution Dragon species in the sense that each evolution can be pretty clearly tiered in terms of care. The baby stage, as I call it, is relatively easy to care for and beginner friendly. Second stage is intermediate, and third stage is advanced/very difficult. This is the case for most three-stage evolution Pokemon, but Dragon types are somewhat of a drastic example, and Dragonites are no exception. 

Dratini are relatively easy to care for; they need good exercise that’s easily done by a beginner trainer or a kid who likes to run, they like heat and sunbathing, they’re omnivorous at this stage, and the most difficult part of the care is honestly helping them with their shed. Dragonair, on the other hand, require a LOT of exercise as they adjust to their new size and prepare for their very drastic evolution. They require more shade than a Dratini and enjoy being misted, not unlike a floral Grass type, because it helps keep them from drying out and getting overly dry skin. They’re still omnivores, but Dragonairs get a real taste for meat, and they can eat a lot of food! They have a big evolution to prepare for and are constantly building up to that. They become quite competitive at this stage, so battling as part of their exercise is a must, or they might become sad and lethargic. They shed more frequently than a Dratini, and they need assistance with this! Misting seriously helps- keeps everything from getting too sticky and keeps them from getting cranky if it gets stuck. 

Then you’ve got Dragonites. Dragonites require either full days out and about, or a really intense bout of exercise followed by rest. Personally, I keep Cloudhopper pretty much exclusively out a Pokeball and she roams freely. She knows and understands boundaries, and generally sticks close to me, and I’m not worried about her running into trouble because she can easily take care of herself if she happens to get into a battle situation with a wild Pokemon. When I can I do give her plenty of exercise- we go for walks, we train, and we often take flights together. I only have her in a Pokeball if I have to and she’s never in it onsite here. It’s a personal preference of mine with my entire team, and it works well for her needs. 

Dragonites are also almost entirely carnivorous. They’ll eat some greens, and it’s good for them, but the vast majority of their diet is gonna be meat. They’ll be happiest with anything you get while fishing cooked up, they love seafood and especially fatty cuts of meat will be their preference, but each Dragonite is different. Cloudhopper, as an example, isn’t a picky eater and she really loves spicy food. Some Dragonites will eat anything not unlike a garbage disposal, while others are super picky. Oh, and I think this goes without saying, but they need to eat a LOT of food. Berries are good snacks, so is a standard Dragon type kibble. Keep their meals rich and meaty to keep them healthy and happy and full, and be prepared to provide lots of snacks. 

Dragonites aren’t super picky about sun and shade. They don’t like a lot of cold, however, so having a warm place to keep out of harsher winters will keep them happy. If it gets really dry they might get uncomfortable, but this is easily remedied with a good old-fashioned misting down. They don’t shed as often as even a Dratini, but they do shed, and they do need some help because their claws can only do so much. If a Dragonite is excessively scratching, they probably have some stuck shed making them itch, and you’ll be their best friend forever if you get it off for them. They love water, so it’s easy to spray them down and help them out of it’s really stuck. I don’t recommend approaching a wild Dragonite for this unless you’re a trained professional, though. 

Dragonites have a reputation for being cute and cuddly with friendly faces. A lot of people make the assumption that they’re gentle giants who wouldn’t harm a fly. It’s a dangerous assumption to make- Dragonites might appear more gentle than a Dragon like a Salamence, but they’re still just as capable of being just as fierce. Dragonites are viciously protective and are known to be extremely territorial. They’re an incredibly competitive species on top of that, and will rise to anything they see as a challenge. Wild Dragonites won’t hesitate to mercilessly attack anything that comes near their young if they deem it a threat. I never recommend approaching a wild Dragonite unless you’re a trained professional. 

Let’s look at Cloudhopper. I’ve had her for over a decade, and I’ve raised her since she was a Dratini. She’s still incredibly protective of myself and the people in my life, and she’s taken on both attacking wild Pokemon and more unsavoury types of people to protect us in the past. She’s always with me when I’m out in the field because she’s the strongest member of my team who can get us out of bad situations with the most ease, and in the few missions I’ve taken dealing with poachers she’s been by my side. Her competitive nature was aided by her training as a battle partner when I was a trainer, but I haven’t been a trainer in a very long time, and she’s never lost her edge. Our bond is what makes her so fiercely protective, and it’s not something I’ve trained into her, it’s just how she is! Granted, it works out in our favour, because I’m often called a magnet for trouble, which I can’t really argue against. 

I’m very biased towards Dragonites. Cloudhopper is my partner, I’ve had her most of my life, we grew up together. She’s a big part of the reason my initial research focus was Dragon types. She takes a lot of care but it’s never felt like work to me, we fit together perfectly and I can’t imagine myself having any other Pokemon as my partner. I haven’t met many wild Dragonites, they’re quite elusive and live in areas not easily accessed, but the ones I have encountered are beautiful and incredibly powerful. They’re not a species to be underestimated, nor should they be handled or approached by anybody without proper training and experience. They make for great partners for trainers who can take on the challenge of raising a Dragon type, and are also great flight Pokemon. You just have to be up to the challenge and able to work with their needs, which get more and more difficult as they evolve from a Dratini to their final, massive form. 

#pokemon #professor laurel #arthur rambles #personal field notes #Cloudhopper is a great asset right now in particular #this invasive species mess is a lot easier with her being intimidating #and it's more complicated than I originally thought hence why I haven't been around #Sevipers... and Zangoose! Moving into the area! You can imagine how my days are looking right now #the Zangoose are causing problems so I'm trying to figure it all out #hopefully get them moved somewhere more suitable to their needs and away from each other #and figure out why and how they came here of all places

[anxiouslyfred]

The Stone Gaze

Summary: Virgil hates that he can temporarily turn people into stone and hopes that whatever the mirror superpower his soulmate has is able to counteract it.

He wasn’t quite expecting the energy and impulsiveness of Remus when they met in an Art Exhibition.

/\/\/\

Virgil hated his powers. He hated a lot of things really, but the power he had was the number one thing he hated and that barely even counted as self-hate or self-deprecation given a lot of the reasoning for it was how his powers impacted his life.

The only time he'd come close to thinking his 'superpower' (as society had deemed things not everybody could do) was when they were studying mythology and had covered Medusa. She had turned people to stone permanently as a gift to protect herself from those who would idolise or attack her. Before they learnt the ending that had seemed like a pretty cool thing to be able to do, but then she was killed as part of a heroes journey and Virgil realised how little people would think of his power should they learn about it. It was mythologically a villains power after all.

Hiding his powers wasn't enough to keep Virgil from the attention of bullies. They picked on him because he always wore his father hoodie after they lost him to illness. They'd call him names because he'd learnt to keep his hair, especially his fringe long enough to cover his eyes so nobody would get accidentally turned to stone. Eventually they'd even harass him to do their homework because his Dad pushed for good study habits.

Refusing to react to their insults or requests only reached the point they tried to beat him up once. When the leader of that group had shoved him against a wall his hair had fallen backwards, leaving a clear gaze directed to the bullies. As soon as the leader became stone the other kids had fled, crying for the teacher to come help.

Virgil's Dad had been called to the school to pick him up and explicitly direct everyone's attention to what had clearly been happening, given the position the boy had been frozen in while refusing to allow any punishment to be given to Virgil. Even once that was accepted by the teachers and school they tried to demand that he wore sunglasses or a visor to school for the safety of staff and children alike.

“I will not police the clothes my son wears because your staff cannot respect someone who doesn't meet their gaze directly. He has found that the long fringe is enough to counteract his powers and given the years he has attended this school without incident that should be perfectly suitable to carry on with.” His Dad has lectured the head teacher that day. He'd given more evidence that Virgil hadn't listened to, but the sentence stuck in his head. Once more his powers were up to him to control and prevent from being used and it felt like an even heavier weight to carry than he'd already found it.

The days of his schooling after that were lonely, isolated as he feared anyone he might befriend would try to meet his eyes. The only hope he had for getting through his life was that somewhere in their world was his soulmate; a person whose powers would mirror his own, and possibly, on the nights Virgil was willing to dream impossible things, counteract his gaze that turned people to stone.

/Over to Remus\

Roman had been the one to bring Remus into exhibiting his work. Honestly, Roman had been the twin to get them both into the art world in the first place. The charismatic, charming artist, whose painting were filled with energy most paintings couldn't capture and dreamt of finding his soulmate. When the art world had discovered he had a brother just as skilled in sculpting they were pulled around and paired together for exhibits constantly.

Remus had originally tried to explain the truth, that their works looked like they held more of life in them because that was what their powers did. Roman could bring paintings to life temporarily, and had often painted portraits of his friends and family so he could still talk to them while they were away. Remus in contrast brought sculptures to life when he touched them with a wish to talk. They'd always be in different positions than he'd awakened them from by the time the power wore off so he got praised for how realistic or believable his positions were.

None of that praise meant anything to Remus though. He sculpted things to feel less alone, to have people to talk to that wouldn't react in disgust or turn away when he said something a little more twisted than society was used to hearing. Each model he made had a mouth to talk and their own way to express their reactions so he could for a while feel accepted by someone other than his brother.

Today he had actually listened to Roman's claims that it's better for their exhibitions when the artist spends times at the display. Of course that didn't mean he was going to dress any differently that normal, just throwing on the torn skinny jeans and an off the shoulder top, with a jacket draped over his shoulders for when the air conditioning got too cold. Art Galleries always seemed to keep the space too cold, Remus swore on it.

“You can't be in here Mate.” An angry voice said, a hand accompanying it yanking him around to face a tall suited man, scowling down at him. “This is an art gallery and I don't care what the fuck you did to sneak in here you're gonna be-”

Remus had already started glancing for a nearby sculpture to reach for when the words cut off. The man whose voice had slowly been raising had now turned to stone, finger raised to point out the door.

“I'm the artist?” He blinked, properly turning now to try and find who else was in the gallery that might have done it.

A few metres directly behind where Remus was, there was a man looking like he would run any second, staring at the floor as though ashamed. “Sorry, I didn't mean to do that.” He mumbled, “The yelling startled me.”

“You're okay, dude. No harm, no wild birds around here.” Remus nodded, reaching back to poke the side of the angry man, focusing on him being alive and calm now.

“Apologies, I probably shouldn't have yelled, but seriously, homeless people aren't allowed in art galleries.” The man who had been yelling declared, having taken a deep breath as the stone released him.

Remus just raised an eyebrow at that. “Just because I haven't dressed all posh like you doesn't mean I'm homeless. And given I'm the one who sculpted most of the statues in this gallery, I believe your judgemental attitude can be taken elsewhere, or shoved up your ass since that seems to be where the rest of your personality is kept. Have your fun in hell, not in my gallery.” He spoke quickly, already directing the man away from the gallery, and nodding to the security guard that wandered between their exhibits.

He didn't delay any longer than that, caring more for the man who had turned him to stone than anything more that could be said. That had to be the complete opposite to his own powers, whether it had been a permanent transformation or just a temporary one, he wanted to know.

Luckily the man was still stood there, blinking at the spot where the angry fellow had been frozen. “He- he shouldn't... That never wears off that quickly.” He was mumbling to himself, not realising Remus had returned.

“Hey there modern day Medusa, you doing alright?” Remus tapped his shoulder, tilting his head when the acknowledgement was for the man to stare at his neck rather than look at him.

“F-fine. Sorry about that though. It really was an accident.”

“Why are you apologising for helping me calm the situation down before he did more than yell? I got him out of the stone and sent on his way. It's all hot stuff in heaven today.” Remus was genuinely confused over what was upsetting the man in front of him. Everything had been sorted out so surely they could move on to talking about soulmates already.

There was a quick glance up, to stare at his ear now, or maybe something over his shoulder. “You got him out of the stone? That wasn't my power just wearing off more quickly than normal?” There was a plea in his voice, as though scared of his own power.

“Yep, and while I can't really prove that here, given everything is already photographed and needs to remain the same to be sold, you can come see my works in progress. I'm Remus, by the way, Remus Windsor.” The offer was easy to give. No matter what people believed about needing to test contrasting powers in public to understand if they're completely opposites, he just wanted to calm this person down. Roman would understand that and hopefully leave to paint in the park or some sappy shit like that.

“Virgil and, yeah, please can we do that?” Virgil nodded, holding a shaking hand out towards him, while the other started pulling the hair that had fallen to his ears back in front of his eyes.

As Remus took his hand he was finally able to meet Virgil's gaze and grinned, tugging on it so they could run out of the gallery together, looking something between art thieves making their escape and teenagers causing mischief.

/To the art gallery\

“Princess, you better get your fat ass and any talking paintings the hell out of here. I've got my Medusa and we need to confirm this shit without an audience.” Remus barged through the doors still tugging Virgil along behind him.

Virgil was astounded by what had occurred in the last hour. He'd only visited the art gallery on a whim, curious over just how lifelike a sculptures positioning could be compared to what he'd seen when accidentally using his own power on people. He hadn't expected to almost add to the exhibition temporarily or to meet someone who could be his soulmate there as well.

Now he could only look around the studio that Remus had explained he shared with his brother. The walls were covered in paintings in various stages of completion. Some looked finished but missing the energy that the paintings back in the gallery had held, others were clearly completely done, but held back. A few canvases were merely sketches or only had their backgrounds coloured in.

Then there was the stone. There were throughout the entire studio several large boulders, some chipped into enough that a hand could be seen reaching out, or the nose of a dog. A few were just legs waving into the air, vague shapes for the rest of the body chipped away but the lips immaculately carved. There was even a potters wheel at the opposite end with a few vases and ceramic models left on a table beside it.

“Remus, seriously, you cannot just kick me out. I'm doing an oil painting.” There was a man identical to Remus stood in front of the only Easel in the gallery, now turned to them frowning with his brush poised to the canvas.

Virgil dithered for a moment before stepping forward. “Oil paints don't exactly dry quickly. You could spare a few minutes for us to figure our if we're soulmates couldn't you?” He muttered, for the first time in years looking up as someone turned to him. He wasn't going to deliberately use his powers without permission now, but having some evidence that Remus actually can reverse the medusa affect straight away would seriously take a weight from his mind.

The painter watched him for a moment before stepping closer, setting his brush down. “I'm Roman. Wouldn't it be more useful for you to prove this on a real person? Although I can understand the uses of turning Remus's sculptures back to stone at will. There's been a few incidents where they've been even worse than he can be.”

“Roman's volunteering to be tortured. Let's do it, see how long we can keep making him stone and real again in quick succession.” Remus stage whispered at him, cackling when Roman flipped him off.

Virgil just nodded, “Only once. I want to know if Remus actually can reverse this.” He cautioned, but turned his head enough to properly meet Roman's gaze, watching as grey stole over his body in a second.

Before Virgil could worry over how Remus would react to seeing that done deliberately, he was leaning forwards to shove his brother backwards, giggling along with the action. Roman was human again by the time he hit the floor, now scowling up at Remus.

“Okay, Rude. I offer to help my darling sibling confirm their soulmate is theirs and you shove me to the floor. I cannot work in such a hostile environment. I'm taking my leave of you, pray it won't be permanently.” He stood up, throwing the glare at them and leaving with all the dramatics of a pantomime dame.

Virgil had to snicker along with Remus as the door was slammed shut. Honestly, half of it was that he had to laugh or he might just burst into tears. In all his wildest dreams he hadn't thought his soulmate would be so excited to have his powers with them.

“Let's try on my figurines! I'm trying to make a dragon witch I can set lose to torment Roman when I'm heading out, and already have my Cthulhu baby, just waiting to be given life. Wanna see if you can turn them back to stone if I wake 'em up?” Remus was once again holding his hand and tugging him to the other end of the room as soon as he finished laughing.

“Before we do that, are you wanting a romantic soulmate, or a platonic one? I don't really care which we have but I'd be happier if we got to know each other first.” Virgil hesitated a moment, tugging back on his arm.

Remus waved off the question. “We'll cross that bridge when we reach it. If you want sex or not I'm making models I can sleep with anyway. They're funny to talk to if they realise how I made their bodies. Come on, meet my Cthulhu baby!” The whine was emphasised by bouncing and Virgil's arm being jumped up and down rapidly.

“Okay, okay, guess that explains why some are so twisted around as though trying to hide their bodies.” Virgil laughed, walking once more towards the table.

Virgil hated his superpower, and probably always would, but perhaps Remus can help him find a couple of things it's good to be medusa for.

#dukexiety #soulmate au #creativitwins #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders

[midnighter13]

the world in mutable delight

Y'all I'm so full of feelings. So many of them. Anyway I've been shouting about Caleb using his Transmuter's Stone on Molly to anyone who will listen for actual years so now, please have more soft pre-widomauk feelings about it.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31672169

The process of recovery, Caleb knows, can be a strange one. Of course, there is hardly anyone stranger than the singular Mollymauk Tealeaf, to begin with. Between the circumstances of his deaths, his lives, and all the magic that brought him back to them, it is hardly a surprise that he needs some time to gather up all the patchwork pieces of himself again. Caleb has no doubt that he will reclaim everything he wishes to, in time; after all, he has never known anyone better at creating beauty from shattered glass. The massive stained-glass tribute within his tower is as close as Caleb could come to capturing the artistry with which Molly created his style and his life and his whole self, and seeing him in vivid, vibrant life again has reminded Caleb that even his best effort could never possibly do him justice.

It is best that way, though. Mollymauk Tealeaf should never be captured in something so still as glass, so static as paint. A whirling dervish of color and laughter and terrible ideas and sheer wonder needs a living canvas to flourish, and thanks to a miracle, he has that chance again.

 One day soon perhaps, Caleb would like to ask Molly about the decor of the tower. He is still fond of his best effort, the beauty that Molly’s memory lends to his library, but it needn’t be the same forever. It would be equally wonderful to listen to Mollymauk create something new, to see if Caleb can create with magic what Molly’s endless font of color and bullshit can imagine.

… Of course, that would require Caleb to overcome the way his mind goes blank every time he thinks about approaching Molly. There are so many things he wants to say, needs to say where Molly can hear him this time, but he doesn’t seem to have the language to express the maelstrom of emotions trapped inside his chest. There is so much happiness and relief and affection and amusement and delight and and and— 

And it is all stopped at the back of his throat by the sharp point of the memory that springs up every time, the fact that the manifestation of all of Caleb’s magic, all of his drive and talent and hope and hunger, failed when Molly needed him. Again. Nine months ago, on Glory Run Road, Caleb’s magic was not enough to keep him alive. And two days ago, in the crumbling city in the Astral Sea, Caleb’s magic was not enough to bring him back.

So. There are a few things he must grapple with himself, before he can indulge in everything he wants to say to Molly.

It has been fairly easy to hang back, so far. He has managed to distance himself enough from the celebrations to keep from spilling his heart across the ground at Mollymauk’s feet. Simply looking at him, vibrant and energetic again, is enough to sustain him—simply hearing his voice, the handful of words he speaks with endless inflections, is a feast when he has been starving. So Caleb stands a handful of feet away at all times, and watches the rest of his family hug and touch and reconnect until his eyes go dry.

The first night of their return to the Material Plane would have been no good, anyway. With how tired they all are, how nearly broken and still very bruised each and every body among them is, it is not the time to show Molly around the whole tower. There will be time for that later, always time for that later, to his greatest elation—later, he will take Molly by the hand and show him everything that he built, every piece of his heart that he conjures to house his friends, his family. He will show him that no matter the time that passed, he kept Molly safe in his mind and gave him a place here, always waiting for him to come home. 

But that will have to wait until Caleb’s hands no longer shake with the phantom weight of his Transmuter’s Stone; and besides, he would have to wait anyway until Molly and Yasha willingly part from each other, and those two certainly have shown no signs of budging from each other’s sides, not through the exhausted pile the (whole, finally whole) Mighty Nein slept in that first night, nor at meals with the welcoming Clay family the next day, nor the hours full of odd conversation and new acquainting and re-familiarizing that followed. There has been plenty to occupy Molly upon his return, more than enough to let Caleb sit outside of arm’s reach and drink in everyone else’s stories, and pretend that his heart has not leapt every time Molly’s bright, lively eyes have turned to him and lingered in return.

Now, basking in the afternoon sun on the second bright day since their family saved the world and was made whole, Caleb knows that he should be taking more action to recover his arcane stores. But each time he tells himself that he will get up and look for a suitable stone, his throat becomes tight again. He makes excuses to Essek, to Veth, when they ask: they are safe here in the Grove so he does not need the protection it grants him; they are among a family that seems very partial to glowing crystals as light sources, so he is in no rush to regain the darkvision he lost with the Eyes; why bother to make himself quicker to move, when they are all enjoying a well-earned rest? Neither of them question him further on it, though there is deep understanding in Essek’s eyes and a shrewd worry in Veth’s. They let him lie back and look up at the endlessly-shifting canopy of green, and try to reorganize his thoughts in peace.

Someone, however, does not abide by that peace. Only a half-hour into his meditation, and having made very little progress in unsnarling his tangled heart, Caleb hears the soft sound of bare feet on moss approach, and stop beside him. When he turns his head, there, of course, is Mollymauk.

“Magician,” Molly says firmly, and plunks himself down on the ground beside Caleb’s head. He settles in, wiggling his toes in the moss. One foot has nails freshly painted in bright teall, the other in charming pink. Both colors, of course, suit him perfectly. Then he says, “Mister Caleb,” with a widening grin, and Caleb’s breath catches once more in his throat.

“Hallo, Mister Mollymauk,” he says in return, the smallest greeting that settles sweetly on his tongue. He pushes himself upright, and turns to face Molly in kind. “Your words are returning to you, it seems.”

“Some,” Molly says, and the word that is not empty is accompanied by a decisive little nod. It takes effort, it seems, but Mollymauk has always been an obstinate individual. Regaining all his words may be like trying to pick up pieces of confetti one at a time, but if Mollymauk wants them back he will have the time to do so now. And hopefully, his friends can continue to help.

“That is very good to hear,” Caleb replies, and he cannot stop the smile that spreads across his face at Molly’s pleased expression.

“Magician,” Molly repeats, and holds out a closed fist between them. Caleb hesitates, unsure if this is a greeting or a request—then Molly shakes his hand a little, impatiently, and Caleb obligingly holds out his own open palm beneath it. Mollymauk’s tail swishes in broad strokes behind him, and he opens his hand to drop something into Caleb’s palm.

A blue-grey stone the size of a hen’s egg hits his palm with a soft sound. There is no ring around this one like his first, but when it catches the light it sparkles with countless tiny deposits of mica, glittering like stars. Caleb blinks at it, then up at Mollymauk. “Ah… thank you?”

“Magician,” Molly insists; then, after a pause, “lucky,” accompanied by that little flicker of his fingers that he used many times before, whenever he mentioned how little he understood about magic or asked Caleb if he could cast a spell. And perhaps it is not elegant, no kind of official communication that even a Comprehend Language could parse, but Caleb understands him perfectly, and his throat stings as though he might cry.

“Oh,” he says, and stares down at the stone in his hand. “Th-thank you, Molly. How did you know…?”

“Joy—” Molly clears his throat, a quick little cough and a wrinkle of his nose that spells frustration with his voice. “Jester,” he says carefully, clearly, “told me. What—hmm. Happened. Empty—”

He takes a deep breath, seems to gather his thoughts. He reaches out and closes Caleb’s fingers around the rock in his palm. “Empty,” he says again, softer now. Then he says, “Caleb,” and brings his hand up and presses his lips to Caleb’s fingers.

Caleb’s heart is nearly tripping with how quickly it hums. His ears are hot, and he knows that the afternoon sun cannot be to blame in the pleasant shade of the Grove. “Molly,” he says, helplessly. “Molly, I—I’m sor—”

Molly’s tail smacks gently into his knee. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Caleb, somewhere between playful and warning. Caleb swallows hard. He takes in the sight of Mollymauk’s face before him, and memorizes the new weight of the stone in his hand.

“Ja, okay,” he manages. “I can use this, Molly. Thank you.”

“Ja, ja,” Molly says, grinning wide and cheeky once again, and the laugh that bursts from Caleb feels like lightness, like relief, like forgiveness.

Molly is still smiling at him, his tail tapping softly against the moss. He releases Caleb’s hand from his grasp, the stone safely inside. Then he puts one hand up and crooks his finger at Caleb, in a universal gesture of come here.

Obligingly, Caleb leans forward, narrowing the space between them and trying very hard not to blush all the way to the roots of his hair. Molly puts his hand on the side of Caleb’s face—warm, his touch is so warm and firm and real again. It’s almost enough to distract him, enough that it takes him by surprise when Molly leans forward and kisses him firmly on the forehead. Then he lingers there, and Caleb lets his eyes close just for the moment as he memorizes the feeling of being here, with Mollymauk Tealeaf, safe and happy once more.

When Molly sits back, he folds his hands in his lap, contentment written so plainly across his face that he hardly needs the words to say it. Caleb thinks of five things he could say, a dozen, a hundred possibilities like fragments of fate. But Molly only has so many words to give, and it is better, for right now, that Caleb can speak his language in return.

He holds up his free hand and crooks his finger at Mollymauk in the same gesture of come here. Molly’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and his tail patters rapidly against his shin—but he leans forward, a smile lurking at the corners of his lips, just enough to show the dimples in his cheeks and the light dancing in his eyes. Caleb puts his hand to Molly’s cheek, and gives in to the temptation to run his thumb gently along the vibrant peacock feather there. Molly’s smile grows wide, showing teeth and crinkling the corners of his eyes, as Caleb leans forward and presses his lips gently to Molly’s forehead. He holds him there for a long moment, savoring the warmth of his skin and the once-again inescapable whiff of sandalwood and incense.

Words are few and far between, right now, but words are not the only thing they need. For now there is touch, and there is warmth, and there is magic, and there is Molly. And for anything else, there will be time for that later. 

#Mollymauk Tealeaf #Caleb Widogast #widomauk #critical role #critical role spoilers #c2ep140 spoilers #critfic #fanfiction #my writing #Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast #I'M FULL OF FEELINGS ABOUT THAT TRANSMUTER'S STONE FOLKS #FULL OF FEELINGS ABOUT WIDOMAUK AGAIN #HAVE A WEE BIT OF ANGST WITH MORE JOY ANF FLUFF

[scapegrace74-blog]

Mister April

A/N I had an angst-ridden update to the Metric Universe all queued up, and then I thought, nah.  The sun is shining, people are getting vaccinated.  Angst can wait.  So this little ficlet fits into the Metric Universe after The Second First Christmas, but before Calculation Theme.

The entire Metric Universe, now chronologically ordered, can be found here.

March 16, 2019, Spittalfields, London, England

“Wait.  You mean you’re actually Mister April?!”  Several bottles into the six-pack of Tennant’s lager that he had brought home after work, Claire’s exclamation was too incredulous for Jamie’s liking.

“Aye.  Every year since I signed on, save one.  At first t’was flattering, but now, weel...” He peeled the label from the bottle held between his knees, cursing the trajectory of their late night conversation.  The idea had been to take advantage of the fact they were both off tomorrow to spend some time with his girlfriend, listen to a little music, get a bit sloshed, then hopefully fall into bed together.

“Can I see?” Claire interrupted his momentary sulk.  “I mean, I’ve been dating a veritable calendar boy for almost two years, and I’m only just now figuring it out.  Seems a bit unfair, don’t you think?”

“Seems to me ye’ve seen me wearing far less, Sassenach.  But fine, look yer fill.”

Grabbing his laptop, Jamie entered his name and London Fire Brigade Charity Calendar into a search engine.  A stream of results filled the screen.  Claire’s eyes goggled and she grabbed the computer, opening the first image.  A much younger Jamie appeared, rugby shorts hanging from the graceful arcs of his hipbones.  He reminded her of a Thoroughbred race horse, not an ounce of flesh to spare, kinetic energy in masculine form.  She checked the date: 2012, before they had ever met.

Further clicks brought her to subsequent years.  Each showed a beautiful man in the prime of youth, fit, cocky, a devil-may-care gleam in his cornflower eyes.  She knew it was her Jamie, but she barely recognized him.

He was missing from the 2015 calendar.  Claire did the math and realized that he would have been in the hospital when that year’s pictures were taken.  Instead of primping and smoldering for the camera, he had lain in an ICU bed for weeks, before undergoing painful rehabilitation and numerous skin grafts.  The brash young man of the earlier images had disappeared, erased by an industrial explosion in an instant.  In his place, the Jamie she knew had emerged. More cautious.  More prone to sadness, but with a limitless capacity to spread joy.  Would she had fallen for him, had they met before his transformation?  She honestly couldn’t say.

By 2016, the pictures had changed.  Jamie posed in a shirt, sometimes unbuttoned to the waist, but always with his shoulders covered.  The gleam in his eyes had dimmed, and instead of an infectious grin, his smile was forced.  She was certain no-one buying the calendar would notice.  He was still a beautiful man, with his burnished curls and Nordic bone structure.  But she could see what those photos cost him.  She knew.

“Dougal wanted me tae show my scars.  Figured t’would be good publicity, I reckon. Heroic firefighter burnt like a human candle comes back tae fight fire ano’er day. I told him I wasna some charity case he could trot out when it suited him.”

She fetched his hand from his lap, giving it an understanding squeeze.  Jamie had once confessed that he felt comfortable bearing his scars to her alone because she had already seen him at his worst, and that left no room for pity.  He was a proud, stubborn fool, and she loved him.

“You know what this means, don’t you?  There’s only one way to make this right.”

Not waiting for his response, she rose, sought her balance for a moment, and went to grab her phone.  Connecting it to their TV audio, she scrolled her music library, looking for a suitable choice.

“Aha!” she exclaimed, pressing play.  A synthetic tambourine and clap bass filled the room.  He recognized the opening lines of OutKast’s Way You Move.

“What are ye on about, Sassenach?”

“You’ve been sharing your glorious body with the Greater London area and god know who else on the Internet for years, Jamie.  As a philanthropist, I applaud you, but as your girlfriend, I’m a tad perturbed.  I am hereby re-asserting my rights to exclusive content.  Now stop lollygagging and get your fine ass off the couch.”

“Sassenach...” he laughed, starting to grab hold of her meaning and feeling a shot of adrenaline course through his veins.  Even before his accident, he had never...

“Don’t make me put it on repeat, Fraser.  Oh, look, here comes the chorus!”

Claire sat back on the sofa, her legs tidily crossed on their coffee table.  The room was dark, except for the undying city lights outside.  No-one was there to see except the one person he trusted to look without staring, to laugh without mocking, to understand without judging.  He’d never known Claire to ask for something she didn’t truly want, and he wanted to give her everything she desired.  Even if it came at the expense of his dignity.

“Ye ken I canna dance fer shite, right?” he said as he stood, taking an extra long pull on his lager.  He was going to need all the liquid courage it could offer.

“I’m well aware.  But as the woman who shares your bed, I can testify that there’s nothing the matter with your sense of rhythm.  If it helps, don’t think of it as dancing.  Think of it as upright simulated sex.”

His face was already hot from the alcohol and embarrassment, but with Claire’s words he felt the heat spread downwards across his chest and towards his groin.  Almost without willing it, his hips began to twitch in time to the beat.

“Now we’re talking!” Claire exclaimed with a grin, leaning back like the only patron at a very private strip club.

He was still dressed for work.  The navy shirt he wore beneath his jacket had no buttons, so he began by easing it from under his belt, baring his navel briefly before sliding it back down.  Claire sulked dramatically, making him laugh.  

With the song’s next horn flourish, he reached behind his neck and lifted the shirt clean off in a single tug, shaking out his hair afterwards.  When he next glanced at the couch, his girlfriend’s smug smile was gone, replaced by a blatant leer that sent shivers down his spine.  She wasn’t even pretending to look at his face anymore, spending her time somewhere between his shoulders and his waist.  He wasn’t really sweating, but he made a point of wiping his pecs before letting the shirt fall to the ground.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, already a tad breathless.

“Immensely.  Don’t stop now.”

Fortunately, his boots and socks had already been removed, so with the next verse he made a show of unbuttoning and unzipping his blue trousers.  Claire’s eyes followed the movement of his fingers like she was memorizing them for the exam.  He could feel his cock grow heavy.

With a shake of his ass for good measure, the pants hit the floor.  Only a tight pair of boxer-briefs stood in the way of utter nudity.  They were doing a poor job hiding his belated enthusiasm for Claire’s request.  The fact that her eyes were now glued to the bulge of his erection only encouraged his excitement.

As the repeated chorus faded away, he carefully slipped the waistband over his now-rigid cock.  The material slid down his legs and he stepped free.  If someone had mentioned his scars in that instant, he would have no idea what they were talking about.

In the ensuing quiet, Claire sat up and very deliberately began to disrobe.  Once naked, she came at him like a heat-seeking missile, one hand reaching around his back to pull him tight and the other dragging him into a kiss.  They collapsed to the floor, rolling around on the area rug in a fight for dominance.  He let her win, because feeling her rise and fall over his length like a cresting wave was the best runner-up prize he could imagine.  

The sex was torrid, and frantic, and not at all polite.  The kind that left bruises and invoked daydreams for days.  Afterwards, they lay in a sweaty heap, trying to catch their breath.

“See?  I knew you had it in you,” Claire muttered into his clavicle.  “A bit more practice and you’ll be as good as the pros.”

“I didna realize I was auditioning fer a second job.”  He brushed Claire’s curls away from where they were tickling his nose.

“Oh, I have no intention of sharing your talents, lad.   Never fear.  But I wouldn’t object to a repeat performance.   Besides, I was so distracted by the show, I completely forgot to film you!”

Jamie groaned, pulling her tighter against him as sleep called him away to dreams.

#my writing #outlander

[isis-astarte-diana]

Milk and Honey: Day 2

Day 1 ‖ Day 2 ‖ Day 3

Summary: “I don’t need your pity. I won’t stand here and be fussed over by some idiot human child.” Wounds healing and ego bruised, Missy self-sabotages. You pick up the pieces the only way you know how.

Warnings: Possible bit of self-harming/OCD behaviour (obsessive cleaning and fingernail trauma, nothing too heavy). Missy does not handle vulnerability well and she gets nasty, but then she’s such a soft troubled baby that we all collectively pretend that it’s not problematic. Unhealthy relationship dynamics and angst. MIHOW.

Word Count: 3615

NB: Oops! It’s angst. Mostly hurt, bit of comfort. Stay tuned and hopefully the fluff will be back soon!

You wake up warm.

The bedside light is still on, its amber glow shaming the thin autumn sunlight that streams grey from the window. When you reach over to switch it off, something drags you back.

Missy has her arm flung across your stomach.

Beneath the duvet, her hand presses just above your navel. You can feel the weight of it when you breathe. Her fingers are splayed across your pyjama top, gripping the fabric tightly.

You stop dead still, half upright. Inexplicable panic floods your chest. "Missy?" You whisper into the pillow, hardly daring to turn your head and look at her.

"Hmm?"

For a single bloodcurdling moment, you think she must have woken; but then she hums again, squirming closer, her nose brushing the back of your neck. Any relief at realising that she’s still sleeping is lost when her arm tightens around your waist.

You think of staying there. With all of your free time spent travelling in the TARDIS, you can’t remember the last time you were held like this. She’s soft and warm behind you, her breath stirring the fine hairs at the nape of your neck, sending goosebumps prickling across the sensitive skin there. It would be so easy to wait for just a few minutes. Half an hour, maybe.

She would never do this on purpose.

The disgust hits you so hard that you flinch. To lie here, taking advantage of her unconscious embrace, enjoying the sweet comfort of an arm around you and peaceful breathing behind you - what would it make you? What would she think if she knew?

You tear yourself away too forcefully, fuelled by the self-loathing that burns in your throat. Missy groans softly in her sleep but doesn’t stir, burying her face in the pillow where your head had been resting. You tuck the duvet back around her, pointedly not looking at the inch of milk-pale skin on her side where the shirt she wears has ridden up.

She looks better already. The angry graze on her cheek is fading, and the long, deep cut down the side of her face is healed and red with new skin. You wonder how long it will take for them to disappear completely.

It’s clear that the sleep is working how she’d hoped, so you leave her there. The clock on the bedside table reads 9:47. Gathering your things, you head for the shower. As you close the bedroom door, she opens her eyes blearily and mumbles your name. You don’t hear it.

+++++

“How’s the patient?”

The Doctor leans against the kitchen counter, watching you make tea. His hands are thrust into his jacket pockets and there’s a careful aloofness to his voice that does very little to disguise his obvious concern.

“Fine.” It sounds clipped. “She ate. She slept. Still sleeping, last time I checked.” You glance at the time on the microwave; it’s after twelve. “For quite a while now.”

“That’s good.” He reaches past you, snatching a biscuit from the tin and biting it in half. He speaks through the crumbs. “We heal better when we’re asleep. Sometimes go into a coma for a few days, wake up ravenous and fully recovered.”

“She mentioned that.” You take both cups into the living room and he follows, carrying the biscuit tin, going back for another. The bag of Missy’s things is sitting in your space on the sofa and you move it to the floor. It’s a floral, Victorian-looking carpet bag, not particularly large but, you’re assured, bigger on the inside and full of everything she’ll need.

“So what else did you talk about?” He props his feet on the coffee table and you scowl. Looking suitably chagrined, he takes them down.

“Nothing, really." Taking a seat beside him, you feel oddly embarrassed, as if the prior evening’s events were a delicate secret that might wither under his scrutiny. “We watched some telly, and then we were both pretty tired so we went to bed.”

You can feel his eyes on you as you reach for your tea, and your face burns under them. Mercifully he doesn’t ask about the sleeping arrangements. “She didn’t try to kill you, then.”

“Not even once.”

“I was tempted.” Your head darts up at the sound of Missy’s voice in the doorway. She looks more like herself, her face the familiar mask of malicious indifference, the wounds there having healed even further since you woke this morning. The pink skin on her cheek is bisected by a blurry streak of red. She’s taken the braid out of her hair, leaving it to tumble in loose waves about her shoulders. “No tea for me, I take it.”

“You were sleeping.” The Doctor looks her up and down. “Nice pyjamas, by the way.”

“Aren’t they?” She gives a performative little twirl. She’s moving more easily than she did yesterday, coming to a halt with only the faintest wince. “I might move away from purple after all.”

“I brought the things you asked for. Well, most of them.” He gestures to the valise and she snatches it up, fixing him with a suspicious look.

“Most of them?” Her voice is thin.

“I’m not convinced that whalebone is suitable for a stab wound.”

“I’m not convinced that I asked your opinion.” She tears the bag open, reaching into its impossible depths, staring at the contents. “My shoes?”

“Ah, well,” he rubs the back of his neck, leaning forwards. “I didn’t think you’d be going anywhere just yet.”

“My sonic?” She spits it out through gritted teeth.

“The sonic stays on the TARDIS. I’m sorry.” He sounds anything but apologetic. “I can’t have you using it without my supervision.”

“No,” she mutters. “No, of course not.” She closes it slowly, snapping the fastenings with a flourish of her fingers. “Well, if there’s nothing else, Doctor-”

“Actually, I was going to ask-”

“If there’s nothing else, Doctor,” she repeats, speaking over him. He falls silent. “Then I’d better go and make myself decent. Do stop by another time.”

She slips back into the hallway and you hear a door slam. Beside you, the Doctor clears his throat.

“I’d best be going. Lecture on Quantum Chromodynamics this afternoon. Still need to pick out the perfect record for it.” He stands up heavily, thrusting two biscuits into his pocket for the road. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah.” Your eyes are fixed on the door. “Of course. See you soon.”

+++++

“Had a nice chat, did you?”

The bathroom door is open. Missy stands at the sink with her back to you, the tap running full force into the open plughole. Over the sound of rushing water and gurgling pipes her voice is low.

“Yeah, it was okay.” You move closer, gesturing towards her with the steaming mug in your hands. “I made you some tea.” She ignores you. Her attention is fixed on something in the sink, her hands busy with it. You peer around the doorframe. She’s wearing a clean chemise and nothing else, her hair pinned up messily, the muscles in her bare arms tight and flexing with the sawing motion of her elbows. “What are you doing?”

Her stained corset from the previous day is crumpled awkwardly in the sink. The bloody laces are directed under the freezing tap as she scrubs at them with a nailbrush, turning the water the colour of rust where it runs down the drain. Her fingers are a furious shade of pink from the cold and the rough work.

“He didn’t bring me any presentable clothes,” she mutters, not looking up from her thankless task. “No corset, no jacket, no shoes. He’d have me walking around in a housecoat and stockinged feet like an invalid.” She snarls, scrubbing harder, catching her fingers with the bristles. There’s too much blood in the water for it to all be leeching from the fabric; the delicate skin around her fingernails is ragged. Heart in your throat, you set the mug aside and reach for the tap.

“Missy, your hands-”

She knocks your hand away and turns on you. He’s obviously brought her some makeup; the injuries on her face are concealed and her eyes are lined heavily with kohl, flecks of mascara clinging to her lashes, dark lips stretched tight around her bared teeth. It’s hard to believe that she’s the same person who’d slept beside you last night.

“I don’t need your pity,” she snaps, the words poison in her mouth. “I won’t stand here and be fussed over by some idiot human child.”

It stings. After yesterday you thought you were getting somewhere; that you might do better than to tolerate each other, and actually start to become something like friends. Swallowing angry tears that threaten to weaken your voice, you bite back.

“I’ll bear that in mind next time you can’t get undressed by yourself.”

You regret the words before you’ve even spoken them. You understand that she’s lashing out at you because she feels weak, but it smacks of bullying and you can’t bear to be a punching bag for her wounded pride. Something sharp flashes behind her eyes.

“Oh, I bet you had a good laugh about that, didn’t you?” Her fingers, wet and cold as the grave, wrap tightly around your wrist. “He must have loved it.”

Softening immediately, you backpedal, realising the source of her rage. “Missy, I didn’t tell the Doctor about-”

She isn’t listening. She twists your arm up behind your back with startling strength, forcing it so high that your shoulder screams in protest and your words die in your throat. You’re up against the sink before you can draw breath. The tap is still running, icy spray soaking the front of your clothes. You brace your other hand against the slick porcelain and look down at the bloody water.

“Look at me!” Her teeth snap inches from your ear. Lifting your eyes to meet hers in the mirror, your breath falters at the expression on her face. In all the time you’ve known her, you haven’t seen rage like this. “Who am I?”

“You’re the Master.” Mouth dry, your breath fogs the mirror.

“I was reducing whole civilisations to rubble before your species stuck a feather into a pile of ash and drew their first hieroglyph,” she snarls. The threat in her voice makes your hair stand on end. “You’d do well to remember that.”

“I will.” The words come out strained. There’s a band of vice-like pain where she holds your wrist, an aching tightness in the muscles of your back that isn’t lessening. “I will. I’m sorry.”

She steps away so suddenly that you crumple, gripping the sink for support. Your forehead hits the mirror. As you squeeze your eyes shut and catch your breath, you can’t see the look of horror that flashes over her face.

When you open your eyes again she’s gone from behind you. Down the hall, your bedroom door closes. You stare into the sink until it starts to overflow.

+++++

You’re elbow-deep in soapy water, washing yesterday’s dishes, when there are four tentative knocks against the doorframe. You swallow hard and try to ignore them.

“Need a hand?” Missy’s voice is soft and hesitant.

“I’m fine.”

She doesn’t respond for so long that you think she must have left. You’re rinsing the last mug - the octopus - when she speaks again. It makes you jump.

“I’m sorry.” She sounds so genuine that your eyes flutter closed, pain twisting in your chest. “I’m sorry for earlier. That was- not my proudest moment.”

It takes you a second to steady your voice. “I didn’t tell the Doctor. About last night. About any of it.” Steeling yourself, you glance over your shoulder at her. She’s standing so far away. “He doesn’t know.”

“But you do.” It takes you by surprise. You turn around to face her, leaning against the sink. Her expression is implacable. Tracks of mascara stain her pale face; she’s been crying. “You know.”

You cross your arms and look away. The sight of her is turning your resolve into dust. “I understand that you don’t want to be here, Missy, but I didn’t ask you to come. That was his idea.”

“Wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re wrong. It wasn’t his idea.” She scrubs a hand over her face, further smudging her makeup. Her fingers are trembling. She’s wearing the long violet housecoat, unbuttoned, over her thin chemise. Standing barefoot in your kitchen with her hair piled up in loose twists she looks like a ghost. “I don’t know what I expected to-”

“You asked him to bring you here?” You push away from the sink, your voice rising as you step towards her. She flinches, touches the wound on her back, leans heavily against the doorframe. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re the only one who doesn’t treat me like a criminal,” she snaps. Her words are tight with pain, and she bows at the hips to ease the strain on her back. “I’m a prisoner in the TARDIS as much as I am in the vault, but I thought that here I might be something else. Just for a few days.”

“I’m not keeping you here,” you snarl. “You can do whatever you like, as you took great pleasure in reminding me. You can leave whenever-”

“How can I?!” Looking up from the tiled floor, she fixes you with wild eyes. “How can I when he plays the warden and keeps my things from me on a whim? No clothes, no shoes, no sonic? Wherever I go the Doctor has my dignity under lock and key. What little sanctuary I find he takes, every time.”

“And you thought you’d take that out on me?” The trembling of your bottom lip betrays you. You bat at the mutinous tears in your eyes. “Put the stupid human in her place? Show me that you don’t-”

“That I don’t deserve your kindness.” She cuts you off, straightening up with obvious difficulty, her knuckles white on the door jamb. “Not so long ago I would have snapped you in half just to hear the sound it made. I have lived longer than you can fathom and done things that your language doesn’t have words for. I’m no stranger to regret, my dear.” The fury in her expression drains away and for a moment she looks as ancient as you know her to be. “So when I tell you that I am sorry for what I did to you, please understand what that means.”

Your throat tightens. She’s too easy to forgive like this, with her face lined with pain and her small frame quivering. She looks cold. The words sit heavy at the back of your tongue, ready to accept an apology whose sincerity you don’t doubt for a second. Swallowing them back, you murmur instead, “I think you need to sit down, Missy.”

She studies you with glassy eyes, breathing heavy. “Yes,” she whispers in the end. “Oh, yes. I think so.”

She slumps to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. You land on your knees beside her just in time to keep her head from striking the tiles.

+++++

Despite your efforts, you can’t lift Missy onto the sofa. She’s fully unconscious and the dead weight of her is too much for you to move alone. Instead, you do the next best thing; you tuck a pillow beneath her head and a blanket around her, covering her from shoulders to bare feet, and sit in the living room to watch her breathing.

As the afternoon drags on, you make a late lunch - stepping carefully over her body to reach the kitchen - and pick at it, hardly tearing your eyes away from her for long enough to look at the television. You make no effort to be quiet but she doesn’t stir save for the soft noises she makes in her sleep and the occasional shift in her position. Recalling the Doctor’s words, you choose not to wake her.

“We heal better when we’re asleep.”

You have a torturous amount of time to think while she lies there. Did she sleep in the vault? What about the TARDIS? And before she came here, when she was travelling alone? The Doctor had told you once that Time Lords could go months without it and then spend the best part of a week unconscious. When the light begins to fail and evening falls outside the window, with Missy yet to awaken, you wonder just how long ago “the desert, last time” really was.

Phone in hand, you type and delete the same message over and over for almost ten minutes. The wording escapes you. Some iterations of it are huge paragraphs, wrought with pleading explanations; some are terse and demanding. The final draft ends up being one of the latter, sent before you can second guess yourself.

Bring her sonic tomorrow.

The response comes almost immediately. You open it with trembling fingers.

No.

Incensed, you don’t wait this time. Your jaw clenches with impotent rage as you reply.

Bring it.

You toss your phone to the other end of the sofa, ignoring the answering buzz that sounds angrier than an inanimate object has any right to. As if in response, Missy jolts upright.

It shocks you when she draws a deep, painful-sounding breath, her head whipping around, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Rising to your feet, you approach her slowly.

“Missy?”

She yelps at the sound of your voice, turning to look at you with wide eyes, reaching back to touch the healing injury when the sudden movement tugs at it. Her chest heaves with ragged breaths. The room is dim with autumn dusk, the overhead lights not switched on yet. In the gloom you can’t make out her expression; just those eyes, gleaming like a cat’s.

“It’s okay,” you say cautiously, showing her your palms in a gesture of surrender, trying to soothe her the only way you know how. “It’s okay, it’s just me.”

“What happened?” She throws it out like an accusation but there’s too much fear in her voice for it to wound you.

“I don’t know, you just- dropped. I think you passed out. It’s been a few hours.” Conscious of looming over her while she’s like this, you sink carefully to your knees, a few feet away. “Are you alright?”

It knocks the wind out of you when she throws herself into your arms.

“I thought you’d gone.” Her voice is muffled, warm in the crook of your neck as she claws at the fabric on your back, pulling herself closer. Your hands come to rest either side of the small of her back in an attempt to avoid the wound there. “I thought- I didn’t-”

“It’s okay,” you manage, stunned, propping your chin up on her shoulder. She’s shaking. “It’s okay. I’m here. Did you- were you dreaming?”

A stunted nod. “I can still hear them,” she croaks. “The drums. Always the drums. Whenever I sleep. Whenever I’m alone, they just keep coming back-”

“You’re not alone.” It spills out of your mouth before you can stop it and she whimpers, nuzzling deeper into your embrace. “I’ve got you, Missy. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

+++++

Propped up on the sofa with pillows behind her, Missy takes her makeup off with a damp cloth. She hisses as it drags over the graze on her cheek and your fingers twitch at your sides in sympathy.

“You’re sure you want to sleep here tonight?” As you tidy the remains of your shared meal from the coffee table, you resist the urge to look back at her. She’s lying awkwardly across the cushions, still wearing the housecoat, the blanket from earlier thrown over her body. “I really don’t mind if you want to share the bed.”

“No,” she answers too quickly. “No, I think- I think this is best. It’s easier on my back.”

“Of course.” The lie is paper-thin. After the day’s events, though, you don’t want to push her. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

The microwave dings as you set the dishes on the counter, and you remove the steaming mug of hot milk. It’s been a long time since you’ve made this. You add twice as much honey as usual - she takes four sugars in her tea - and stir it in with the spices, turning the drink the colour of sand. It smells like home.

Missy looks at you questioningly when you set it on the coffee table in front of her.

“Milk and honey,” you explain weakly, rubbing your neck. “My mum’s recipe. She used to make it for me, when I had nightmares. It helps me sleep.”

Her keen eyes follow you as you switch on the standing lamp and turn off the main light, casting the room in a dim orange glow.

“I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“Yes.” She picks at a loose thread on the blanket without looking at it. Her face is unreadable. “Thank you. Sleep well.”

There are so many things you want to say. Come to bed, or I forgive you, or you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

As you slip out of the door, all you manage is a quiet, “you too.”

+++++

When the bedroom door creaks open you close your eyes and fall still. There’s a rush of cool air over your back as the duvet lifts at one side, and the mattress sinks behind you. Missy whispers your name. Smiling to yourself, you feign sleep.

#missy x reader #the master x reader #whump #doctor who fic #doctor who whump #doctor who reader insert #mine #request #headcanon: missy never sleeps bc she has nightmares #headcanon: missy is very soft and i wuv her

[random-mha-thoughts]

Creep (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x fem!Reader

Genre: Slight spice? Slice of life? Some cringe? (College!AU)

Summary: Your roommate forces you to a dorm hangout with her boyfriend where you get hit on by a creep, only to have Bakugou come along and help you with the situation.

Word count: 1,996

Tags:  @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Honestly I wasn’t expecting much from this idea I had and I thought it would be stupid and short, but it turned into something else that I hope you guys like?  Let me know your thoughts on this!

At least the party isn't terribly noisy, it's more like a casual hangout.  Everyone there is split into smaller groups, some playing Mario Kart on the TV while others huddle in the corner where they moved the table to play Jenga.  Another fold-up table in the far corner of the common room is crammed with snacks and soft drinks.  I don't really recognize any of the people here.  A few faces are from Ochaco's group of friends, maybe I recognize a handful from my classes, the rest are all strangers.

My dear roommate wanted me to come out and join her and her boyfriend's group of friends, but I'd rather be in our room by myself drowning in my sorrows and binge-watching shows on my laptop.

Ochaco immediately lights up and flies over to the familiar mess of green hair hanging out near the Jenga table.  "Deku!"

The freckled-face boy turns around at the sound of his name and beams as his girlfriend throws herself onto him.  "Hey, honey," he pecks her forehead sweetly before smiling politely at me.  "Glad you made it, (Y/n)!"

I return the favor with a tight-lipped smile.  "Yeah, Ochaco was pretty persuasive."

Midoriya motions to the tall blond boy with a fluffy tail next to him.  "This is my friend, Ojiro, it's his room."

The boy hums and rubs the back of his neck.  "It's not exactly my party though.  Sero and Kaminari wanted a bigger place to invite all their friends, and I happened to live in a suite.  My suitemates are out studying for the night."

Poor guy got swindled by his friends like I did.  "Hopefully, no one breaks anything while we're here," I offer some assurance to the visibly uncomfortable blond.

"We'll stay back to help you clean up if you want!" Midoriya offers enthusiastically.  "Todoroki won't mind if I come back to our room late."

We?  I touch Ochaco's shoulder, "I'm gonna get a drink."  There's no way I'm getting involved in any of that.  I have a test coming up this week and I need enough time to stress about how anxious and stressed I am over studying.

I pour myself a soda and start snacking on some chips out of the bowls.

"You idiot!  How dare you get me like that!"

Why do I know that voice?  Turning slowly around, my gaze lands on one of the figures on the couch in front of the TV.  Prickly, ash blond hair peeks out from behind a black hood, the boy's sharp features and scarlet eyes contorted into a death glare as he stares at the screen.  His jaw is tight as he grounds his teeth together in concentration and his leg bounces.

I swear I know who he is, but it's not coming to me.

The ending whistle blows from the TV as the Toad in the top right corner crosses the finish line.  "That's the game Bakugou," the red-head with too much gel in his hair leans back and rests the controller on his knee.  "All's fair in love, war, and gaming."

Oh, I think I know who he is now.  He's in one of my elective classes, he usually sits in the back of the room with his hood up and sometimes takes a nap.  From what I perceived, he wasn't much of a talker, and when he was called on once, he seems pretty smart.  It's just strange to hear him say something, let alone be that aggressive.

He throws the controller down onto his seat in a huff.  "One more race, I'll kill you in this one!"

"You're on!"

I shake my head to myself, continuing to gather more snacks onto a plate.  I guess first appearances really can be deceiving.

"Why, hello there."

The high pitched voice trying to sound deeper is a strange combination, I don't know what I expect to see paired with it.  At first when I turn my head, there's nothing.  Looking down though, is a small boy who doesn't even look like he belongs in college, but rather an elementary school child.  His strangely round purple hair gives me an impression of a mohawk.

I cock an eyebrow.  "Uh, hi?"  How am I supposed to react to this?

He tries to be smooth and lean on the table.  Oh no, I see where this is going.  "I haven't seen you around here before."  

I don't know if I want to laugh at how ridiculous this looks or roll my eyes at me being hit on.  "I'm not part of this friend group."

The little purple guy slides a little closer to me, and I notice him scan me up and down.  The vibe I'm getting from him isn't kind at all.  I almost wish I hadn't worn my outfit, even though the only skin showing is the small amount of stomach peeking through the top of my fishnets and ripped jeans.

"You're about a B, right?" he wiggles his eyebrows.

He better be talking about my GPA or else he'll be tasting my fists.  "I'm sorry?"

"Or a C?"  He taps his chin in thought, eyes trained straight at my chest.

While I'm not the kind of person who would rudely reject someone outright, I don't mind putting a pervert in his place.  I roll my shoulders and put my drink down on the table.  "You-"

Before I can finish, there's a presence next to me who pushes a hand down on the boy's head.  "Hey, loser!  Go be creepy somewhere else, she's taken!"

The smaller boy grows pale and runs off to the other side of the room screaming like a little girl.

The dark hooded figure next to me is definitely intimidating, until I realize it's Bakugou.  His scowl relaxes as he catches my gaze.  "You okay?  He didn't creep you out too much, did he?"

"He did, but I was gonna take care of him," I shrug.

Bakugou removes his hood with a huff.  "You looked uncomfortable, I wanted to help just in case."

I might have lingered over his features and his now-exposed neck just a second too long.  He's much more handsome up close, I hate to admit it.  "Thanks, but I hope you didn't do that just so you can get lucky."

"Please," he rolls his red eyes before smirking and sticking his hands in his pockets, "I have other ways to score, I just haven't tried any of them yet."

I smirk back at him, "Like saying I'm taken?  By you?"

The assumption seems to have wounded him, he snorts, "That's such a dumb trick, I wouldn't resort to something like that."  He nods towards the little grape, "He's much more afraid of being pummeled by your hypothetical boyfriend."

"Guess so," I hum in agreement, refilling my cup.

Bakugou leans back against the wall next to me.  "You're in that literature class on Mondays and Wednesdays, right?"

"Yup."

The little victory seems like a bigger deal to him as a toothy smile spreads across his face.  "I knew it.  You're that kid in the front who always reacts to everything she says, but you don't participate in the discussion."

I pause for a moment, a little taken off guard that he noticed me.  "That doesn't sound like you're a creepy stalker at all.  I only know you as the kid who sometimes sleeps in the back of the room."

His proud gaze is fixed on me.  "It's because I'm in the back of the class and no one notices me that I can observe people very well."

The intensity of his crimson eyes slows my reaction time, but I still manage a chuckle.  "That little guy may be a pervert, but you're the real creep."  I take a chip from the bowl and eat it without breaking eye contact.

Bakugou's gaze flickers down to my nails against the red plastic cup.  "Black nail polish, huh?  I see you're the edgy type."

I scan him up and down, quirking an eyebrow.  "Says the one with a chain hanging off his jeans."

The corner of his lip turns up.  "Touche."

When he reaches out to pick something off my hair, I jump back a bit.  Through our little game of trying to verbally one-up each other, I hadn't realized our close proximity.  His finger had lightly brushed my hairline, a slight tingle blooming on my face.

He smirks.  "You had a speck of dust in your hair, don't be so jumpy."

A breath releases from me, unknowingly being held back.  Something stirs in me as I watch his teasing expression on me.  There's an inexplicable pull between us, I can't deny it.  "Weren't you supposed to be playing with your friends over there?"  I try to pass it off casually.

I don't know if it's intentional, but he runs his tongue over his bottom lip.  "They can have fun without me.  Meeting someone new is more exciting."  Bakugou looks around.  "You wanna get out of here?  It's getting noisy."

Tilting my head, I raise a brow.  "That sounds like you're going to kill me, creepy stalker."

Closing the distance between us, he taunts me, "So what are you gonna do about it?"

We stay there for a while, staring each other down.  A heated chemistry bubbles between us, neither of us wanting to look away.  The faint scent of his cologne dancing across my nose coupled with the hint of teasing mixed with an underlying desire in his eyes mesmerizes me.

The back of his finger brushes my cheek lightly.  "This is the part where you answer, sweetie."  Another calloused hand brushes my waist, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.  "Before this creep manages to kidnap you."

My mind scrambles to find a suitable comeback, failing to formulate words into a coherent thought.  Bakugou's eyes flicker down to my lips as I do his, our faces getting closer to each other.

RIIIIIIIIIINGGGG

Both of us pull away at the blaring fire alarm, looking around wildly through our disorientation.

"Who the hell triggered the fire alarm at this time of night?!" one of the guys screams out.

Ochaco rushes up to us.  "We should probably hurry down with the rest of the building.  Let's go!"

I start following her out of the room, casting a glance backward to see Bakugou and his friend following behind us.

"Guess that means the party's over," Midoriya sighs in front of us.  "It's probably for the best though, we have class early tomorrow."

I'm still dazed as all the students at our get-together mesh with other students in the building, filing down the stairs outside the doors into the brisk night, awakening my senses.

I run my hands up and down my arms to keep warm against the slight chill.  "I should've brought a jacket," I mumble, scanning the sea of students.

"That's another reason you need a boyfriend," Ochaco beams, almost rubbing it in my face that Midoriya gave her his demin jacket.

"Oh, rub it in why don't you?" I groan.  It's not unbearably cold, but the longer we have to stand out here, the more I know I'll feel it.

Cloth wraps around my shoulders carrying a familiar scent.  Bakugou's eyes meet mine with a smug grin.  "You looked cold so I'm giving you my hoodie.  Give it back to me in class."  His warm hands purposely linger and trace down my cold arms before he goes back to his group and I notice he's wearing a slightly fitted black long-sleeve shirt.

Ochaco's whistling snaps my attention back.  Midoriya's eyes widen to the size of golf balls as he stares at me.  He looks scared out of his mind.

My eyes dart between the two of them, the differing reactions flustering me.  "What?"

My roommate wiggles her eyebrows at me.  "I saw you guys talking to each other, but I didn't know you were already this close, (Y/n)."

~

Sequel

#Bakugou x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #college!AU #bakugou imagine #bakugou scenario #bakugou spice #female reader #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction

[gospelofme]

Super Nova

Chapter 4: The Temple of Eedit

Devaron was a jungle planet like Yavin IV. Unlike Yavin IV though, it had small mountains and valleys. It’s climate tended to fall on the tropical side, which meant humidity. Humidity could make things difficult, but not impossible. The temple was located near the town of Tikaroo, deep within the jungles. In its prime, there was a road leading through the jungle and right up to the front door of the temple. However, years of war had seen to the destruction of the road, as well as to the temple itself. She wasn’t even sure if the town was still there, the people may have moved on when the temple was destroyed. Once they cleared the upper atmosphere and got closer to the surface, however, the outline of the small town began to appear. There was only one problem. There was no clearing large enough to land except a couple miles away from the town. They’d have to land there and walk to the temple. There was no sign of the temple from the sky, but that didn’t worry Sayr. She figured the ruins had been largely swallowed by the jungle.

Varex set The Grand Orbiter down in the larger clearing, which apparently was still under construction. A couple big cranes were parked along the edge of the jungle, probably used for clearing the large vines that the planet was known for. Humidity washed over them as soon as the door to the ship opened and the crew stepped foot on the surface. There were the typical jungle sounds, birds and bugs, which was a pleasant sign. The planet’s animals had nearly been hunted to extinction in the Empire days. Signs of life returning to the jungle was a healthy indicator.

“Well, lets get moving!” Varex announced like a sports coach spurring his team, leading the way down the trail that lead to Tikaroo. Within no time the crew was hot and sweaty, but there was something about that that made Sayr come alive. Hard work always made a reward worthwhile. She walked with a purpose along the pathway, ignoring the tickle of sweat rolling down her back.

About thirty minutes later the Meson Martinet landed in the same clearing, the crew of Sidon Ithano walking out to survey the area. Quiggold, the first mate, scowled at The Grand Orbiter.

“Kriff, why is that thing here?” He muttered, knowing who the ship belonged to just as well as the other members. Varex had become somewhat of a rival to the crew of the Crimson Corsair. Sometimes he beat them to the prize, other times they got there first. More than once the Zabrak captain had made life difficult for the Crimson Corsair.

“As long as he doesn’t mess with our objective, we’ll be fine. He isn’t that much of a threat.” Reveth noted, fanning herself with a her hand. “Ugh, it’s hot here today.” She added. Their Captain joined them shortly and the ship was secured. After a moment Quiggold sighed, it was time to walk the mile or so into town. His short legs would make this walk seem much longer, the peg leg wouldn’t help much either, but at least they weren’t trudging through sand this time. Like Varex’s crew, they were all sweating in no time, Quiggold wondering how their Captain wasn’t overheating in his mask and outfit.

The crew trudged into town desperately searching for a vendor that sold water, each having consumed a good portion of their canteen on the walk. They stopped at a stall and waited while their canteens were filled when Squeaky nudged Reveth and nodded over at something, she looked then nudged Quiggold’s shoulder.

“I know why Nova never returned your messages.” She said lowly, nodding to vender a few stalls over. Quiggold looked over to where the Twi’lek had indicated and cursed under his breath. Sure enough, Sayriel Nova stood outside a stall selling machetes to cut through the dense jungle. She looked bored and thankfully wasn’t looking in his direction. A short time later Varex emerged from the stall with a new machete in hand. Quiggold scowled at the dumb smile the Zabrak gave his Force-wielding companion as he brandished the bladed weapon. Nova looked at Varex with a unimpressed stare.

“Great, looks like Varex did something smart first off for a change. I have a feeling we’re not the only ones our employer hired.” Quiggold noted, sharing a look with their masked Captain. He too had noticed Nova. Ithano gave an unconcerned shrug and moved on to another stall.

“I don’t get it, what’s the big deal?” Their newest member, a former clone medic named Kix, questioned. Quiggold filled him in as they quickly left the vicinity to avoid being spotted by the rival crew.

“Sayriel Nova would’ve been ideal to help find the items our benefactor wants. She has ways to find them. Plus she has some inside information on where they can be found. Turns out Varex got to her first.” The first mate said, the former clone looking back at Nova.

“Don’t look over there!” Quiggold tugged the man around, the former clone nearly running into a support post for the stall they had stopped at.

“She looks normal enough to me.” Kix shrugged, Quiggold snorting in response.

“She’s a Jedi. She can sense them.” He said quietly, jumping a bit as Reveth spoke up,

“You’d better hope she doesn’t hear you call her that. She may skewer you.” The Twi’lek smirked, looking at Kix she added, “Sayr prefers the term “force user” instead of Jedi since she doesn’t identify with only the light side.” Kix tried to look unconcerned. The very word “Jedi” made him nervous. Memories of the past seemed to trickle in unexpectedly and he wasn’t sure if he could handle a vengeful Force User should she discover his past affiliation. Captain Ithano and his crew soon departed the town, Quiggold not spotting Nova or Varex again as they did so. That could mean one of two things. Either they had just been making a pit stop here and were headed back to their ship. Or they were headed to the temple already. Quiggold hoped it was the former.

The temple wasn’t too far from town, and there were some remnants of the road that had once blazed a trail through the jungle. This made it fairly easy to find, except it didn’t solve their problems with how to get into what was left. The temple had been bombed years ago, blocking the main entrance completely. Plus the jungle had settled itself comfortably over most of the structure.

“Well this will be an issue” Krev said, a very sweaty Darr agreeing with a low grumble.

“Aren’t you glad I tagged along then.” Sayriel said, putting her hands on her hips, equally sweaty.

“Do your thing then.” Krev replied, the Chiss gesturing to the boulders that were once large doors.

“Pfft, I don’t have to move those things. From my studies as a young child-“

“You studied?” Avi interrupted. Sayr shushed him.

“Yes, sometimes. Anyways, this temple had an escape route out the back.” Sayriel continued, leading them around the ruins. The temple sat on a hotspot in the Force, Sayr being able to feel it much stronger here than in the town. Perhaps this place would be good to practice mediating, obviously not right now though.

Once they reached the back, they noted it looked a lot like the front in terms of damage with the exception of one thing, a small opening in the rocks. Climbing over some large chunks of temple, the crew got closer to the opening.

“Looks like it’s too small for you Darr, you can sit this one out buddy.” Sayr mentioned, the Wookiee replied with a nod. Sayriel eased herself into the crevice, followed by Krev and Varex. Avi decided to wait back with Darr and keep an eye out for any unwelcome visitors. Sayriel was fine with that, the less noise inside the temple the better. They didn’t need any cave-ins. The temple was dark with the exception of little rays of light filtering down from openings up top. Once her eyes adjusted, she started forward. She’d have to use the Force to feel for a holocron, as it was unlikely that they’d just stumble upon one. So far she didn’t pick up much of anything outside of the plants and animals in the space around them. She got a sense of urgency as well, but that was probably Varex wanting to hurry up and find out if this place was worth it.

Their footsteps echoed off the rocks and there was a dripping sound somewhere nearby. The longer Sayriel stayed there, the more she felt around her. Feelings of joy, calm, peace, terror, anger, death. They were amplified due to the nexus in the Force that this place was built on. She kept her thoughts to herself, the others were oblivious to the feelings anyways. There was an area up ahead that looked to be lighter than the rest, Sayriel climbing up around some large rocks to the opening higher up. She peered over the edge of a squared off piece of the temple ceiling and saw a little courtyard down below. Granted it hadn’t always been a courtyard, but the opening the in ruins above them combined with rain and sun had caused plants to grow inside, giving it a garden feel. There was something different about this place for sure. It would be a good area to search.

Quiggold emerged from the jungle, followed by Captain Ithano, Reveth, Squeaky, and Kix. There was no sign of Varex, his crew, or Nova. Perhaps they weren’t coming here, Quiggold allowed himself to think hopefully. The entrance to the temple was in shambles, bombed by the Empire long ago. The parts that were still structure-like had vines clinging to it. The building itself was unstable. Finding a way in may not be as impossible as it looked. Quiggold asked Kix for the mini exploration droid from the backpack he carried, Kix handing him a small round droid and a holopuck. A button was pressed and the droid woke up, humming lighting in Quiggold’s palm. He handed it back to Kix, who then tossed it high into the air. The droid was a prototype from a friend of Reveth’s on Tatooine. It was like a seeker droid but smaller and more compact. So far it was useful. The droid flew up over the ruins and scanned the area for a suitable entrance, the image projected by the holopuck. After a couple of moments it spotted one, a decent sized opening in the rubble. It was too dark inside the opening to make out anything, but it was worth a check. Quiggold moved the droid back to the group, storing it and the holopuck back in Kix’s backpack. Quiggold wasn’t sure if he had the ability to climb up onto the boulders, some of the handholds and footholds looked too tall. He took his prayer beads out of a pocket and rubbed them while thinking. Perhaps it was best for him to stay down here and keep an eye out for that Zabrak Varex and his men. But he didn’t want to come all this way and not search the temple, which itself was pretty impressive even in ruins. Squeaky volunteered to keep a lookout, Quiggold reluctantly stating that he’d stay with him. Captain Ithano patted his first mate’s shoulder as he walked passed him silently and began to climb, following by Reveth and Kix.

“Seriously, do you think I can drink this?” Varex asked Sayr who was perched on a boulder on the edge of the impromptu courtyard.

“I don’t know! Usually flowing water is okay, but I’m not an expert in that field. Just drink the water in your canteen.” Sayriel shot back in an irritated tone. Varex slumped his shoulders and did as she suggested.

“I think he was hoping this temple water would give him Force powers.” Krev teased.

“Yeah that’s not how that works.” Sayriel replied, Varex giving both of them a rude hand gesture. Sayriel smirked and poked around the space with the Force. If she were a holocron, where would she be? Here maybe? Somewhere else perhaps? She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the little nooks and crannies in rubble around them. She felt something other than a holocron though, some guests approaching.

“Found something?” Varex asked, noticing a change in her body language.

“Just some unwanted company.” Sayr replied. She quickly jumped off her boulder and ducked into the shadows just as a little scanner droid moved to hover over the opening above them. The other two copied her. She didn’t think the scanner could pick them up, the light quality was too low here, but it was better to be safe than sorry. After a moment the droid flew off and Sayriel could feel a few entities move closer. Clever, they’re going to try to climb the outside, she thought to herself. It was a worthy idea, but maybe not the best one. Rocks on the outside of the temple might give way and send them tumbling to the ground. That’d be a pity. Sayr noted inwardly, a sarcastic tone to her thoughts.

Reveth, Kix, and Ithano finally made it to the edge of the opening in the rock. The chasm looked dark inside, it was difficult to see if there was a bottom. Kix took the scanner droid out of his pack and dropped it in after activating it. Using the holopuck, the image projected from it looked promising.

“Well, there is a floor and a second opening inside the space.”

Sayriel could hear a man’s voice speaking, presumably to others, above them. She peeked around the edge of her boulder and watched as the droid started to scan 360°, ducking back just before the scan reached her. Varex and Krev hid next to her. The droid was called back up to the mouth of the hole in the ceiling.

Reveth secured a rope to one of the large rocks, giving it a few tugs to make sure it was steady. Once satisfied, she took the rope and lowered herself inside the cave. Once her feet hit the rock floor, she called up to the other two to come down. Once all three were inside the courtyard area, they took a moment to look around.

“Perhaps we should climb up there and see where that goes.” Reveth suggested, looking toward the area where Varex and his crew had entered the cavern.

“Yeah there’s nothing over there.” Varex announced his presence casually. Reveth, Kix, And Ithano quickly turned with weapons drawn to see Krev, Varex and Sayriel standing behind them.

Tag List

@jgvfhl @leias-left-hair-bun @baby-queen-zen @halzore @escapedthesarlacc

#star wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars original fan fiction #star wars original characters #grey jedi #original grey Jedi character #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #the crimson corsair #Reveth #Quiggold #sidon ithano #post order 66 #star wars sequals

[hard-boiled-criminal]

Planetary Magick: 2

(Twisted wonderland x reader)

Masterlist

_______________________

Unedited

“Yeah…charming.” Apparently, by ‘charm,’ the headmaster meant ‘dilapidated and might have asbestos.’

An old Iron fence surrounded the perimeter, the bars mangled and twisted, as if something rammed into it over and over at each possible section of fence. You could only hope that whatever did that was no longer here. Unsurprisingly, the fencing was rusted in many places and had dead vines draped around them, no doubt having tried to survive on the fence but to no avail. What stood out as odd to you though, was the gate: it had an intricate design reminiscent of the black skeletal structure of a stained-glass window. Though it was odd to see these graceful curves and patterns on the gate compared to the arrow-headed fencing, it was something else that put you off. The gate itself was in pristine condition—no rust or dents whatsoever. You noticed an old, rusted padlock on the ground nearby, which was most likely used to seat the gate once upon a time, but that only lead to more confusion about why only the gate was so well taken care off.

The grounds themselves were mostly barren, save for a few vertical hedges and some dead trees. The dorm building itself sat atop the small hill and was in pretty bad shape. All the windows had been sloppily boarded up and patches of shingles were missing from all over the roof.

“Right, right,” Crowley brushed off your comment and lead you up the stone stairs towards the dorm. “Please come inside.”

             ‘Maybe it’s not that bad on the inside?’

Scratch that, you felt like the guy on the receiving end of “Sike! That’s the wrong number!” You didn’t think it could get even worse, but the interior proved you wrong. It was a complete mess inside; furniture stained and overturned, firewood and books scattered everywhere, cobwebs and spiderwebs in every nook and cranny, paintings and pictures either crooked on the wall or on the ground. The wallpaper was peeling at the seams with patches missing all over, and one of the wall sconces was completely broken, both the lightbulb and glass cover missing. And while the floorboards looked okay, there was no doubt in your mind that some of them were definitely rotted and would collapse under your weight in a heartbeat.

You turn and blankly stare at the headmaster. Did he really believe these were suitable living conditions? You were almost positive there was mold in this run-down dorm, and who knows which ones pose a threat to you since you’re an alien? “Does OSHA not exist here or something?”

“I’m sorry, but I do not believe I have heard of this ‘oh-shuh,’” Crowley replied, sounding honest.

“The Occupational Safety and Health Administration?” You got a blank look from Crowley. You sighed, “figures…” ‘Note to self: learn how to establish a government-funded fantasy OSHA so you can pile Crowley with violation fines. Or at least threaten him with them so he’ll fix up the damn place.’

“Staying here will at least keep you out of the rain,” he rushed to get his sentences out. Maybe he got nervous when he heard you say ‘safety and health?’ “I’m going back to do more research. Make yourself at home. Don’t go wandering around the school! Goodbye!” With that, Crowley rushed out the door in a hurry.

‘Well fuck. First order of business: cleaning up lest I die of never-ending sneezing fits.’ You were only able to get all the furniture upright before it started to rain, making you lose all focus and run to peak out a window, trying to get a good angle to see the rain, and hopefully lightning, through the boards.

You’ve always loved the sounds of rain and thunder. More importantly, there was finally something normal. Hearing the rain pattering against window and seeing the occasional flashes of lighting in the distance relaxed you. Out of habit, you counted the seconds between the lightning and thunder to estimate how far away it was. You counted eight seconds before you heard the low rumbling of thunder.

You sighed, content, before you remembered, “It’s storming! I can collect storm water!” You ran to the first door you saw and flung it open to see what looked to be a kitchen. Excited to finally get a round of good luck, you searched through the cabinets, grabbing any jars and bowls you could find. You found a total of three glass jars, which you removed the lids from, and two large bowls. You stacked the bowls and placed the jars as best as you could inside the top bowl before heading back out the front door. You walked out from the covered entrance into the rain and placed the containers along the side of the stone path so they wouldn’t be in the way. The rain started to fall heavily, forcing you to run back inside before you were completely drenched. Luckily, the large hooded cloak you wore kept you dry for the most part. You carefully pulled off the partially-singed wet coat and draped it across the back of the rocking chair you righted earlier to dry.

“Hyii! It’s really coming down!”

Startled, you snapped your head to face the direction the voice came from, only to be met with that same bakeneko (monster cat) that tried to incinerate you.

“Gyahaha! You’ve got this stupid look on your face like a spider being attacked by a water gun!” The bakeneko cackled at you. They must have snuck in when you set out the bowls and jars. “I’ll have no trouble sneaking back into school. If you think getting thrown out is gonna make me give up on getting in, you’ve got another thing coming!”

“Mm, well good luck little bakeneko. It might help to not set the school on fire,” you gave them some helpful advice.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. All that matters is that I get into this school,” the bakeneko brushed off your words. “Afterall, I’m a genius who is destined to be a great magician! I've been waiting for the Ebony Carriage to come pick me up. But... But... Hmph! The Dark Mirror just doesn't have an eye for this. So that's why I came here on my own. Not letting me in would be a loss for the world; humans just don't get it.”

“Well, I have to agree with you on the Dark Mirror part. Afterall, it decided to kidnap me, and I can’t do any of that flash-bang-boom magic you’ve been throwin’ around.” ‘But I can do other magick… I wonder if they have my kind of magick here… I’ll have to do some research later…’

“Wha? You can’t use magic? Pfft! You’re useless!” The bakeneko shrieked as a drop of water fell on him through the ceiling. “So cold! The roof is leaking!” He didn’t move out of the way before another drop hit him. “Fgyaa! It keeps coming! My adorable ear fire is gonna go out at this rate!”

‘Instant karma, bitch.’ You sighed, “I guess I’ll go get one of the bowls.”

“Magic should fix this leak up real quick, but you don’t got any.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can’t make things go boom, I get it. If you’ve got such a problem with the leak, why don’t you fix it yourself, bakeneko?” You said over your shoulder as you walked to the door to collect one of the bowls from outside.

“Huh? Help you? No way! I’m just a regular monster staying in a rainy place. You better get a can of tuna ready before I do any work.”

You shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself.” You felt a drop of water land on your head this time. ‘Looks like I’ll need to get both of the bowls.’ You grabbed your damp cloak from the rocking chair and quickly threw it on before running outside towards the bowls. They had already collected about half a centimeter of storm water, and not wanting to waste it, you poured the contents of the bowls into the closest jar. Sprinting back inside, you first placed the bowls down at your feet so you could quickly peel off your now-soaked cloak and hang it back on the rocking chair. You placed the bowls under what looked to be the worst leaks in the lounge area. ‘I wonder if there’s a cleaning bucket or something in a closet somewhere.’

“Yo, I’m gonna go see if they’ve got a bucket somewhere,” you notified the bakeneko, not getting an answer, as expected.

You peered over into a nearby hallway, suddenly much more nervous as you stared down the long, dark hallway. ‘This feels like a horror game and I hate it.’ You tentatively took a step forward, and then another. You made it about five slow steps in before the floor loudly squeaked under your weight. ‘I just had an interesting thought: Actually, fuck this.’ You spun on your heel with false bravado, your entire body now tense. As you stiffly walked back towards the lounge, you froze in place as you felt the familiar tingle of eyes watching you. ‘Okay. Don’t look back. Just. Just keep walking. Put one foot in front of the other.’

It turns out it didn’t matter if you looked back or not because three ghosts suddenly appeared in front of you. They… didn’t look how you’d expect ghosts to look like. These ones looked more… cartoonish. They weren’t half as scary-looking as some of the monsters you’d seen in Scooby-Doo.

One of the ghosts giggled while the other two spoke, “We haven’t had a guest in so long…” Said one.

“I’m itching for some action,” said the other.

“Yeah, no, I’ll pass. I’ve had enough excitement for one day, thanks,” their completely underwhelming appearance circumvented practically all your initial fear, leaving you with only pure exhaustion. You didn’t have much of a filter in this state, but you didn’t really give two shits about what you said when you were tired anyway.

“Why are you talking to yourself…” the bakeneko walked around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. “Gyaaa! G-g-g-g-ghooosts!”

Looked like someone was afraid of the cartoon ghosts.

“The people living here got scared of us and left,” a ghost explained.

“We’ve been looking for more ghost pals,” another spoke. “How about you guys?”

“Deadass? Fuckin’ go for it.”

The ghosts and bakeneko looked a bit shocked that you blatantly agreed to let them kill you to turn you into a ghost.

“Wow, you guys aren’t up to date on humor, are you?”

The bakeneko was the first to snap out of disbelief and shouted, “Grim, the Great Magician, isn’t scared of some ghosts!”

‘Heh, I ain’t afraid of no ghost.’ You had to mentally remind yourself to not start humming the ghost busters theme.

Grim, as you now learned his name was (you think), spewed more of that bright blue fire, completely missing all of the ghosts.

“Where are you aiming?” The ghosts mocked him and laughed. “Over here, over here!”

“Shoot! Stop disappearing!” Grim uselessly shouted at them and continued to be a living flamethrower.

“My mans, please, stop. At this rate there’ll be no dorm left to keep us dry.”

“Shut up! Don’t try to give me orders!”

“…I’m too tired to deal with this shit anymore. Fine. I’ll get you a can of tuna if you win without burning the house down.” You mumbled the first part before speaking to Grim.

“Wah? Mm, I-I’m a genius. I won’t let one—” Grim tried to keep his stubborn pride but was interrupted by the ghosts’ mocking laughter. “Bunch of cowards, ganging up on us!”

“Two cans. Take it or leave it.”

Your new offer seemed to change Grim’s tune in a heartbeat. “Hey, you! Tell me where the ghosts are!”

“’Kay. On your left,” Grim followed your orders and managed to singe one of the ghosts with his flames.

“I hit it!” Grim shouted, now sounding excited. “Alright, let’s chase them all outta here!”

Cue you shouting directions at Grim and him spewing fire in said directions. In all honesty, it felt like a pokemon battle. Except your pokemon was a talking cat with a holier-than-thou attitude. And you were fighting actual ghosts—not ghost type pokemon—actual previously-living-human ghosts. After a few minutes of Grim burning the ghosts, however that worked, they eventually fled the scene of your would-be murder.

“E-eh? We…won?” Grim spoke with the disbelief of someone who has never won in life before.

“Yup. Good job bakeneko Grim.”

“Ha-heee, that was scar—No, I wasn’t scared at all!” Oh Grim, what caused you to act like your pride is what matters the most? “This is nothing for the Great Grim! How ‘bout that, ghosts? You done?”

“Hey, don’t taunt them, bakeneko. If they come back, I’m not giving you directions.”

“Why do you keep calling me ‘bakeneko?’ What’s that even mean?”

“Mm, it’s because you’re like a bakeneko. They’re mononoke, yokai, that resemble cats,” Grim looked ready to protest, but you continued before he had the chance, “and are extremely powerful. If you anger a bakeneko, your chances of getting out alive are slim to none.”

“Hmmph, well, I suppose The Great Grim will allow you to call him by such a title.”

Before you could continue to talk about bakeneko and other mononoke or yokai, Crowley came in through the front door just as you and Grim made it back to the lounge.

“Good evening,” he greeted. “I have graciously brought you supper.” That’s when he noticed Grim beside you. “You’re the monster that ran amuck during the entrance ceremony! I threw you out of the school! What are you doing here?”

“Hmph! I exterminated the ghost problem! Be grateful!” Grim puffed out his chest as he spoke, continuing to act high and mighty.

“Hmm? What do you mean by that?”

“…There were ghosts here that wanted to turn us into ghosts,” you blandly explained to the headmaster.

“Now that you mention it, there were some prankster ghosts living here so students keep away from this dormitory. And that's why it is now empty. I'd forgotten that.”

You half-heartedly glared at the headmaster. ‘Oh, how convenient. You put up the broke alien in a haunted house with killer ghosts that you just so happened to forget about.’

“However, hmmmm…” Crowley either didn’t notice or acknowledge your glare. “For you two to work together to get rid of them.”

“I'm not gonna overlook that "together" comment. They were just standing there watching. And I did this for a can of tuna—Ah! I haven't gotten that tuna yet!” Grim spoke, still holding on tight to that attitude of his.

‘Grim, I swear to whatever deities rule this place that you aren’t gonna get those cans of tuna if you keep up this habit of pushing others down to raise yourself up.’

“I'd like the two of you to show me how you exterminated those ghosts.”

‘Crowley, no—'

“But we already got rid of all the ghosts! Before that: Give. Me. Tuna!” Oh Grim, so we can agree sometimes!

“I shall be the ghosts. If you beat me, I'll give you tuna cans. For I am gracious.”

“Uh, no, wait, Mr. Crowley, please—”

“Now then, Transformation Potion!” Crowley pulled a vial of liquid from his coat and downed it in one go. It didn’t take long for him to become transparent and ghost-like.

“Eeeeeeeh, I don't wanna. This is a pain and I have to team up with them again…” Grim whined.

You let out a heavy sigh. “Bakeneko, maybe if you show him how strong your magic is, he’ll let you be a student.”

“Grrrnnuuu,” Grim grumbled, annoyed. “This is the last time! You absolutely, absolutely have to give me the tuna!”

And you found yourself in a pokemon battle once more; this time, it was you and a bakeneko versus an actual living breathing person that can turn into a ghost.

‘If it’s a pokemon battle, might as well use pokemon rules.’ You pointed at the see-through headmaster, “Grim, bite him!”

“Hah? You really are a stupid human!” Grim shouted and spewed fire instead, though he missed like before.

“Fine, we’ll use your fire, but I’m explaining the pokemon system to you later. On your left!”

Turns out, pokemon battles can get boring when it’s just the same thing over and over again. Eventually, it seemed the effects of the potion wore out and Crowley returned to his usual opaque self.

“Hee-haaa…” Grim was panting, trying to catch his breath. “How 'bout that!”

“I can't believe… There is a person who can command monsters,” Crowley spoke in mild awe mixed with disbelief.

‘…Does this world not have pokemon? Should I?... No, I shouldn’t… but what if—what if I introduced myself as Gary Oak and just… no I can’t do that. I can’t tell people “smell ya later.”’

“Hmmm... Actually, my teacher senses were telling me since the uproar during the entrance ceremony that you have talent as an animal or wild beast trainer.”

‘…This man is really making this a cliché pokemon plot… Is this how it all started? Am I the original trainer!? Nah… Unless—’

“But, no matter how…” Crowley began muttering to himself, to quiet for me to make out.

“Hey, just let him stay here,” you were exhausted at this point and the bakeneko had honestly grown on you some. Plus, you needed him around in order to explain pokemon to him.

“What now? Let a monster live here?” You couldn’t see Crowley’s face behind the mask, but you were sure he was giving you a judging look.

“Well, I mean, he did just show you the magic he’s got, which is a whole lot more than I’ve got, and you’re letting me stay here. So why not let him stay? He still a magician, he’s just, well, in the shape of a cat.”

After a few seconds, Crowley sighed, “It can’t be helped.”

“Funa!? Really?!” Grim’s eyes widened and lit up as bright as his flames.

“However, I can't simply allow someone, let alone a monster, into school who wasn't selected by the Dark Mirror. Also, I can't let you be a freeloader here until you return to your own world.”

“Talk about short-lived joy…”

“Listen until the end,” Crowley then turned to you. “Concerning the fact that your soul was called here, the school has to take responsibility as the owners of the Dark Mirror. For the time being, you'll be permitted to stay in this dormitory for free, but other necessities you will have to provide for yourself.”

‘Uhhh what? I don’t even have my own clothes. How the hell am I supposed to live with no money or ID?’

“Seeing as you have nothing to your name,” he gave a slight chuckle for reasons unknown, “here is my proposition.”

Your mind immediately jumped to all the horror stories you’ve heard of what comes from owing shady people favors. The growing panic must have shown on your face according to Crowley’s next words.

“No need to fret, I'll have you do maintenance and odd jobs around campus. From what I can see, you're pretty decent at cleaning,” he said after glancing around the room. “Would you two like to become the "handyman" of the school? This way you will receive special permission to remain on school grounds. You'll also be able to research going home or study whatever you desire in the library. For I am gracious. However! Only after your work is done.”

“Eeeh!? I'm not okay with that!” Grim complained. “I wanna wear that fancy uniform and be a student!”

“It's fine if you're unsatisifed. I'll simply toss you out again.”

“Ffgnnaa!? I get it! I just have to do it. Just do it!”

“’Kay.”

“Wonderful,” Crowley clapped his hands once in delight of our agreeance. “Then, you two starting tomorrow, endeavor to be the best handyman at Night Raven College!”

“Cool, now that that’s settled, headmaster,” he turned to face you. “I’m, like, about to pass out from pain. I’m covered in bruises and burns, plus my vision is blurry and I can’t focus on anything. My eyes are like a camera lens that twenty children smeared their greasy fingers on. You’re magical in that flashy, immediate results way, right? Doesn’t that mean you or someone else can help me not feel like I want to peel off my skin? It’d be cool for my skin to not burn when I get cleaning solution on it tomorrow.”

“Oh, uh, yes, of course,” Crowley almost seemed sheepish, as if he were embarrassed to have not truly noticed the state you were in until now. “While healing magic is not my forte, it should be enough to heal the wounds you have.”

He pointed his palmed towards you and you watched as it began to glow a pale yellow. Slowly you felt your burns and bruises dull themselves to just faint aches. He kept this up for about a minute before he extinguished his magic and pulled his hand back.

“Now, the worst of your wounds are still be a bit tender, but they should be completely healed after a good night’s rest. So, off you go then; sleep now so you’re ready for work in the morning,” He shooed you off with a hand gesture.

“Thank you, headmaster. C’mon Grim, let’s get going.”

As you and Grim headed up the stairs, the headmaster turned around and walked out of the building. Each step creaked under your weight as you trudged up them. While the pain was all but gone, your fatigue was still all-consuming. You followed Grim down the upper hallway, since it seemed he already picked a room before, probably when you went to find a bucket. You followed him into a room in a similar condition as the rest of the dorm. Across from the door sat a fireplace in the center of the opposite wall, a large mirror mounted above it. There were tall windows stationed on either side of the fireplace, almost as tall as the room itself. Towards the left side was a chair covered by a gray dust-cloth, and on the right sat a simple twin-sized bed. You pulled the duvet off the bed and shook it out, watching as you made a cloud of dust dance in the air. As soon as you placed the comforter back on the bed, Grim jumped up and curled himself up in the center of the bed. You were too tired to do anything about that; you’d just have too try and sleep around him. After shaking any dust off of your pillow, you slid yourself under the covers, one leg dangerously close to sliding off the bed. You fell asleep in record time that night.

.                                          .                                          .

             You had a rather rude awakening the next morning consisting of Grim yelling at you and pawing at your face because the ghosts were back. Streams of blazing blue fire almost singeing your face made this one of your worst morning experiences to date. With a final warning of there being a one-sided prank war, the ghosts phased away.

             “We’ll get rid of you eventually!” Grim shouted after them, but there was nothing but thin air left.

             “C’mon, bakeneko. Let’s go see if there’s any food in the kitchen,” You beckoned Grim with a small wave.

             “Hmph. Fine. But there better be tuna!” Grim said with a harrumph and trotted out the door ahead of you.

             As you went down the stair at the end of the hallway, you saw Crowley standing in the lounge room, waiting for you and Grim.

             “Good morning, you two,” he greeted when he noticed you. “Did you sleep well?”

             “I was sprawled out then fell out the bottom! Just how ramshackle did you let this place get?” Grim shouted, equally as upset about the state of the dorm as you were. “Then the ghosts woke me up, this is the worst!”

             “Like the dead,” was your response.

             “Even though you just got tossed from another world you can still be cheeky, wonderful!” Crowley was as upbeat as ever. “I came to speak to you about your work for today. Today you are to clean the campus, but campus is quite large. Cleaning it all without magic is impossible. So, I'd like you to clean Main Street to the main gate to the library, understood? Please watch Grim closely so he doesn't cause a scene like yesterday.”

             “I’ll try best,” you said and shrugged. You didn’t know what you’d do if Grim went out of control; you’re not fireproof, after all.

             “I'm counting on you. You have permission to have lunch in the school cafeteria. Take care of your work enthusiastically,” and with a flutter of his feathered cape, Crowley took his leave, presumably going back to campus.

“Tsk, no way I'm doing any cleaning,” Grim scrunched his nose at the thought. “I wanna go to class and, bang! Boom boom boom! Use a bunch of awesome spells!” He punched at the air with his ‘booms.’

“How ‘bout we just go to the library after we finish cleaning. Besides, libraries are where they keep all the old forbidden knowledge!” Yeah, under lock and key so no one can read them, but you weren’t about to tell Grim that. “Imagine just how much the other students will revere your power if you master ancient magic!”

“Well, what are you waiting for, human? Let’s get going!”

“Okay but let me collect my storm water first. If I wait too long, it’ll all evaporate.”

“Hmph, fine, but make it quick!”

You quickly jogged over to your bowls and jars that each held a good two inches/five centimeters worth of storm water. You poured all the water you collected into one of the jars before carrying everything back inside. You set them all down on the kitchen counter, then checked the cabinets for a lid to the jar. After finding a lid and sealing the storm water in the corresponding jar, you met back up with Grim in the lounge.

“Alright, let’s get moving.”

“About time,” Grim sauntered off, sass radiating from him with each step.

.                            .                            .

             The campus was bustling with life, students with hair every color of the rainbow going every which way. After a couple minutes of walking towards what you hoped was Main Street, the crowds began to thin out, students having made it to their respective classes. It wasn’t all that hard to find Main Street, seeing as it was the busiest and largest street on campus. What you weren’t expecting was the street to be lined with seven statues of iconic Disney villains.

             ‘I thought… I thought I was supposed to be on another planet or world or something? Why are there Disney Villains? Are you telling me that Walt Disney himself was able to expand his franchise across all of time and space?! And maybe across dimensions and alternate universes too?! Hey Walt? You’re taking it too far, man.’

“Uwaaaah~ Amazing. So, this is Main Street. I didn't get a good look yesterday but what's with these statues? All seven of them look pretty scary. This granny looks especially snobby,” Grim said, making a face at the Queen of Hearts.

“You mean the Queen of Hearts? Yeah, she played croquet with flamingos as the mallets and hedgehogs as the balls. While they were alive. Not cool if you ask me. Or most people. Animal cruelty is bad.”

“Ehh?! Why would this lady do that?” Grim looked appropriately confused.

“Who knows? Besides, the Cheshire cat is way better. A true chaotic neutral, that one.”

“Who’s that? And what does a cat have to do with this granny?”

You were about to answer before you were cut off by a new challenger approaching. “You don’t know about the Queen of Hearts?” They had a boyish appearance with short, messy orange hair and a red heart stamped over their left eye.

‘Actually, we were just about to discuss the Cheshire cat, but go ahead and assume, I guess.’

“You know her too? Is she important?” Grim asked the redhead, his attention easily being grabbed by this newcomer.

 “In the past, she was the queen who lived in the Rose Maze. She was someone who valued rules and discipline above all, strict in all things from the march of the Card Soldiers to the color of rose bushes. It was a land of madness where all submit to her rule. Why you ask? Because or else it was off with your head!” The heart-eye boy monologued with some dramatic flair.

“That's terrifying!” Grim shrieked, probably at the thought of someone chopping his head off.

“It's cool! I like it. Nobody would listen to a queen who's just nice all the time, right?”

‘Uhhhh, that queen is a tyrant, and tyrants are what lead to revolutions so… vive la révolution.’

“I suppose. A strong leader is better.” Oh, Grim, you sweet summer child who doesn’t know the difference between strength and fear.

“By the way, who are you?” Grim asked.

“I'm Ace, a fresh-faced first year. Nice to meetcha~” The boy, Ace, said with a musical lilt.

“I am Grim, a genius who'll become the greatest magician. The dimwit over here is (y/n). They're my henchmen.”

“Bakeneko, don’t you dare put me on the same level as a Scooby-Doo villain’s underling.” You glared at Grim who gave a sheepish chuckle in response.

“You've got an odd sounding name.”

“People from different places have different names. It’s called culture.” You said blandly, trying to cover up your growing anxiety.

Ace shrugged. “I guess. Just never heard your name before.”

“Hey, Ace,” Grim grabbed his attention; you could feel your shoulders sag in relief. “The lion over here with the scar, are they famous?”

Well, Ace seemed to have this handled, and you didn’t need to hear him summarize the Disney villains. Instead, you ignored him and went over to the statue of Hades and looked at him.

‘If this confirms that Hades also exists in this world, does that mean I can work with him? I know many witches back on Earth work with Greek deities, with Hades and Persephone usually being the best of them to work with. Hmm… I’ll have to do some more research.’

You then crouched down to read the stone plaque engraved in Hades’ pedestal. The large plaque read: “The lord of the underworld and guide to the wandering souls of the dead. He carried out his fearsome duties with diligence and care, m…ing even the de…t to offer their aid.” Some words had eroded away, becoming mostly unintelligible sans a few letters.* You tried to make out those two unknown words, tracing your fingers around the grooves in hopes that just maybe you’ll be able to figure out enough of the letters to piece the word together.

“No matter how long you stare at it, you’re not gonna get anything out of that, y’know,” Ace said from behind you.

You sighed and stood up, your momentary reprieve from your anxiety over. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to check.” The plaque didn’t have any information you didn’t already know, except for maybe the words you didn’t know.

“Anyway,” Ace cleared his throat, “He's the Lord of the Underworld! He rules a land crawling with evil spirit on his own. No doubt he is extremely skilled. Even though he's got a scary face, he did that detestable job without ever taking a vacation, and his sincerity won over Cerberus, the Hydra, even the Titans, to fight for him.”

“Hmmm, Hmmm. So having talent doesn't mean you get to be haughty.” Grim hummed in thought.

‘Oh, my sweet tiny bakeneko, you’re learning about manners; I’m so proud.’

“And the last one, with the horns?”

‘Oh hell yeah, Maleficent! We stan an absolute queen. Besides, who doesn’t love dragons?’

“That is the Witch of Thorns from the Magic Mountains,” Ace said, addressing Maleficent with a title rather than her name. “Noble and elegant, even within the Seven, she is top class in magic and curses! She can summon lightning and storms, cover an entire country in thorns; her magic is on a whole other level. There was even a time she transformed into a huge dragon!”

“Oooh! A dragon! All monsters look up to them!” Grim shouted excitedly.

“They're all so cool~” Ace spoke, almost dreamily, before his tone did a 180 and turned snide. “…Unlike a certain raccoon.”

“Pfft... Ahaha! I can't bear it anymore! Ahahahaha!” Ace broke out into laughter. “Aren't you the guys who went crazy at the entrance ceremony? You were summoned by the Dark Mirror even though you can't use magic, and you, a monster, weren't called but still trespassed. Yeahhh, it took everything I had not to lose it at the ceremony.”

“Whaaa!? You're a rude one!” Grim fumed, his ear fire growing in size.

             You just stood there and narrowed your gaze, your anger and anxiety fighting each other for full reign. Anxiety won out in the end, keeping you silent when met with his jabs.

“And now you aren't allowed in and got regulated to be a janitor? Haha, how lame,” Ace continued mocking the both of you.

             ‘It’s not like I had a choice in the matter…’ You clenched your jaw while Grim growled. You could feeling the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, beginning to rise.

“On top of that, you don't even know about the Great Seven,” Ace just didn’t know when to stop. “How ignorant can you be? As I recommend you go back to kindergarten before coming to Night Raven College.”

             Grim’s growls got louder as Ace continued. You, on the other hand, couldn’t bring yourself to speak and defend either of you. You felt your throat begin to close up.

“I thought I'd just mess with you a bit, but you really blew my expectations away. Unlike you two, I actually have classes to attend. Keep this school squeaky clean, you two~” He gave you a patronizing wave before turning on his heel and sauntering away.

“This jerk! He's just gonna say that and leave! I'm ticked off!” Grim opened his mouth wide.

“Wait, don’t—” You weren’t fast enough to stop Grim from using flamethrower, for a lack of better terms, on Ace.

“Oh! Watch out! What're you doing!?” Ace angrily yelled at Grim, having just barely dodged in time.

“It's what you get for making fun of me! I'm going light up that fire-head of yours!” Grim matched Ace’s volume.

“Fire-head, huh? Heeeeee. You've really got guts picking a fight with me. I'll turn you into a puffy, little toy-poodle!”

             Grim spewed more flames at Ace’s threat.

             ‘Nope, fuck this. Fuck this. I can’t breathe, dammit!’ You hid behind the nearest statue, which happened to be Maleficent, and kneeled on the ground, trying to steady yourself and calm down enough for your throat to reopen. You bent over to rest your head on the cool grass, closing your eyes and covering your ears, trying to block out the sources of your near attack. You focused on the feel of the grass against your forehead, feeling the separations between the different blades. They were still a bit damp from the morning dew. The more you distracted yourself from the thought of Ace: stressor of the century, the more your throat relaxed and allowed you to draw breath normally once more. You jumped when a shriek pierced through your ears, completely bypassing your hand barriers and reversing all the progress you made towards calming down. Worried that the shriek meant someone got hurt, you jumped out from behind the statue. Instead of someone being hurt, to your relief (you weren’t excited about being an accomplice to assault), the Queen of Hearts’ statue was blackened.

“Crap! The Queen of Hearts' statue is charred!” Ace yelled, the dread on his face matching the shriek you just heard from him.

             “It's because you're blowing the fire around! Just let me fry you!” Grim shouted back at him.

“You really think someone is just gonna let you fry them?”

“Enough!!! Just what is going on here!” The voice of Crowley boomed at the three of you, making you flinch.

‘…Fuck,’ looks like you’re not going to be able to avoid an anxiety attack after all.

             “Guh! Headmaster,” Ace went rigid.

“He's going to tie us up with the 'lash of love'!” Grim yelled. “Get outta here!”

             Though they tried to run, both were caught by Crowley’s whip, foiling their escape plans and making them both yelp in pain.

“Hurts just as much the second day in a row!” Grim whined.

“This is my Lash of Love!” Crowley was furious, and it seemed like he wasn’t going to calm down anytime soon. “It'll be another hundred years before you can outrun me! I told you just yesterday to 'not cause any trouble', didn't I? Then you go and char the statues of the Great Seven!” He directed his words at Grim before turning to Ace. “I very much would like to see you expelled.”

“Wait! Not that!”

“And you,” Crowley looked at you, making you freeze in place. “This is not how you supervise Grim.”

             You opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, unable to gather the breath to form a single word. How could you talk when you were struggling to even breathe?

“My goodness,” Crowley huffed in indignation before turning to Ace. “You, what's your grade and name?”

             “Ace Trappola, first year.”

“Then, Trappola, Grim, and (y/n), as punishment, I order the three of you to wash 100 windows around campus!”

“Nyaaa!? It's all cause this joker was making fun of us!” Grim protested, his fur standing on end to make him look bigger and more intimidating. It didn’t work.

“Eeeh!? Me too?” Ace looked at the headmaster in disbelief.

“Most definitely! After school, meet in the cafeteria. Understood?”

“Fiiine…”

“Nothing but misery since yesterday!” Grim complained.

Soon, both Crowley and Ace left, and you felt your body slump in relief, your knees buckling under you.

“Wha—hey, human! What’re you doing?” Grim ran up to you, genuinely confused.

You held up a finger to say ‘gimme a minute’ while you caught your breath. “Sorry…Grim…” you said after a minute, panting between words.

“Why are you out of breath? It’s not like you were running or anything.”

“This…this just happens… sometimes…” you shifted from kneeling to sitting cross-legged, leaning against the statue of Maleficent behind you. “I’m not very good with yelling… or with people, for that matter.”

“Hmmm,” Grim hummed in thought. “You humans are weird.”

You gave a soft chuckle at that, “that we are, Grim. That we are.” The two of you sat there in silence for a minute or two as your attack gradually faded away. “Hey Grim? I have a proposition for you.”

“Hah? What do you mean human?”

“What if we skipped lunch so we can make Ace suffer a bit?”

“Heee! Now you’re talkin’ my language!” Grim grinned widely, showing of his shark-like teeth.

      *That was all I could make out from the plaque you can see in the seven statues background image.

 A/N: Life’s been pretty shit recently hasn’t it.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #idia shroud x reader #idia #other boys x reader #the romancing options aren't set in stone yet #but these two boys are #cuz they're my favorites #and they're the whole reason why I'm writing a fic to begin with #also #adult octomer azul? #hot #you know what's sexy? #two consenting adults in love #you know what's not sexy? #literally anything else #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader

[penandpaperfic]

watched episode 64 of campaign 1, had a lot of feelings, queued up the saddest songs on my writing playlist and wrote this in a rush. because who doesn’t want quiet, uncertain nights together in Whitestone?

ps - this is set during episode 64, so watch out for 1) spoilers if you’re still catching up like me and 2) mention of a certain dragonborn sorcerer. he’s not usually in the stuff i write, but i can’t really cut him out of this one

anyway. enjoy or ignore at your leisure:

-

She had thought, when the dragons took Emon and forced them all to flee, that it was by an immense stroke of luck Tiberius wasn’t with them.

She had thought, when he said his goodbyes and took a moment to wish her well, that they would see each other again.

She had thought, even when they heard three fourths of the Chroma Conclave had soared east, that he would be fighting back, wherever he was.

She had ignored the thought, deep in her heart, that he might not even be alive.

Percy asks a few of the Ravenites to take a body down, and he grabs her hand and whispers to all of them not to react. That in itself makes her want to react—and ask him what the hell is going on—but the look he gives her is more than stern: it’s desperate.

Keyleth shuts up, and watches.

He is frozen, and still, and lifeless. But he is undeniably Tiberius Stormwind from Draconia.

They do their best not to react. They really, really do. But a silence has fallen over their group, heavier than their uncertain glances at their uneasy allies so far. Keyleth looks around cautiously as they gather the body, and she knows that the Ravenites know. Tooma tilts her head toward her. There is no sympathy, but there’s a gravity to it. Keyleth lets her shoulders fall as she follows the others away.

Someone suggests the buried library, and really, there is no better place. Keyleth tries to channel her trembling into magic, into energy, as they clear away rock and ice and frozen, ruined books. They eventually make a suitable place for him—not good enough, but better than where he was. Where he had been slain, destroyed, made a symbol of—

Keyleth walks closer to the body and falls to her knees beside him. Why didn’t you tell us? she thinks. Why didn’t you talk about this part of your home?

Questions she’ll never know the answer to. There’s a part of her that’s angry. How was he supposed to be a leader when part of his people were slaves? But that thought hurts even more than the sight of him lying here, cold and still, so she shoves it away.

She reaches for his robes and tears a strip off. She winds it around her hand, tightening her fingers in the soft, fine, familiar fabric, and holds it to her chest. Beside her, Grog pours a glass of ale. Then, remembering something, he dumps it out to the side and fills the glass with water instead. He places it near Tiberius’s head.

Keyleth takes a shaky breath. She looks away from him, across the remnants of the library. There are some books still intact, still on shelves that are standing. There’s a little table with a fine leather chair and an unlit candle on its side. She imagines him sitting there, much younger, nose buried in a tome with the rest of the table covered in papers and ink. His flustered huff of a laugh when he caught on to something, or perhaps couldn’t quite find the answer he needed.

Keyleth shuts her eyes again and tucks the piece of robe away in her bag.

Vex places Lockheed on Tiberius’s still chest. The dragonling perks up with recognition, then mewls as Tiberius doesn’t react. He creeps up Tiberius’s chest to nibble on his chin. When there’s no other response, he deflates, curling slowly, sadly into a circle on his chest.

She can hear Vax’s quiet murmur of a prayer. Percy’s heavy sigh.

“Keyleth,” Percy says quietly. “Can you seal it?”

She sniffs. Nods. Pushes herself to her feet.

“Lockheed,” Vex whispers. The dragonling curls tighter on his chest. “Darling, please, you can’t stay here.”

He resists her. Vex kneels down and reaches out. She whispers something in Draconic. Lockheed raises his head and gives one last, long look at Tiberius’s face. Then he flutters to her shoulder. She runs a finger over his chest and walks out of the library.

When they’re all out, Keyleth raises her hands. She reaches out for the stone and pulls it down, sealing their makeshift tomb. As the stone falls, she falls with it. Snow seeps through the knees of her pants. She focuses on that, not the painful ache of her throat or the tears freezing on her cheeks.

A hand touches her shoulder. Vax, probably. Keyleth is about to shake him off, but the fingers flex, squeezing gently, and she realizes it’s smaller than she expected.

Vex.

She reaches up and covers Vex’s hand, welcoming the touch, clinging to her desperately. She feels Vex lower herself enough to speak softly beside her.

“He loved you well, Princess.” There’s a smile in her voice, as well as the tears. Keyleth feels her own lips curl. She sniffs and nods, holds it together for a moment before crumbling again. Vex’s hand tightens on her shoulder.

“He was so stupid,” she says back. Vex’s watery laugh sounds beside her. Keyleth wants to pull her down to hold her properly, but she resists the urge. Her head is starting to ache. She can feel the tight pull of her furrowed brow. “He should have never left our side.”

She doesn’t think it’s loud enough for anyone but Vex to hear, and Vex doesn’t respond. Keyleth swallows hard.

The party slowly picks themselves up. Vex helps Keyleth to her feet, but then drifts off. Percy is speaking to Tooma. Vax and Scanlan say their quiet, private goodbyes. Even Grog is subdued, standing with his head slightly bowed as he waits patiently for their next move.

They decide to plant their grove—their message, their means of returning—at the top of the ravine. Vex insists that Keyleth should save her spells and flies them all up instead, one by one. Keyleth climbs onto the broom behind her and wraps her arms tentatively around Vex’s waist.

Vex touches her forearm and presses it close. “Tighter, darling. Can’t have you slipping away.”

Keyleth lets herself hold Vex tighter. She presses her face to the space between Vex’s shoulder blades and breathes in, still shaky with tears. Vex squeezes her wrist once more, then pushes off the ground.

The tree grows easily, as does the portal. When they’re back in Whitestone, it’s as if nothing ever happened. Nothing has changed.

As they trudge quietly back up to the castle, Keyleth supposes that it hasn’t. Tiberius was dead when they left Whitestone, and he’s dead now. They already knew these dragons were ravaging the world. They just didn’t know it was this damn personal.

Percy leaves to go talk with Cassandra. Vax pats him on the shoulder before he goes, then murmurs something about a temple and drifts off. Grog declares he needs to find Pike and then get drunk. He offers his shoulder to Scanlan, who climbs up and goes with him.

Keyleth gazes after them. Maybe she should follow. Maybe she really, really shouldn’t get drunk tonight.

“Keyleth.”

She looks over at Vex, the only one still hovering. Lockheed is on her shoulder still, though he’s slumped so much he’s half-hidden in her hair.

Vex opens her mouth to say something, but no words come out. She closes her mouth again and simply stares at Keyleth.

Keyleth wipes at her eyes. “I…”

Vex nods. They both look away from each other, and Keyleth takes it as a cue to leave. Just get the fuck out of here, it doesn’t matter where to. She turns down the closest hallway and, by some stroke of luck, makes it to her room without running into anyone else.

/

Sleep doesn’t come easily. She supposes that makes sense, since they weren’t gone that long. But two teleportation spells and nearly becoming slaves and building a tomb for her once best friend is still draining.

Keyleth stares up at the ceiling above her bed, nearly in tears again just out of the desperation to go to sleep. She turns over and buries her face in the pillow. Let it stop. Let her rest.

They’ve lost so much. They’ve caused so much destruction, and they’ve witnessed so much more. How long was Tiberius up there, made a spectacle in front of the people his kin enslaved? What had he thought, in his last moments? Who was with him? Who fell before him?

Did he think of them? Did he wish he had stayed? Was he glad they weren’t with him? Was he hoping they were somewhere out there, fighting the same threat, coming to save—

Keyleth shoves herself up from the pillow, gasping. She scrambles up until she’s sitting and pulls the pillow to her chest, squeezing so hard it hurts. She wants to scream. She wants to sob. She can’t do this. She can’t.

She stands up before she can tell herself not to. She makes her way out of the room and down the hall, past Percy’s chambers, past Vax’s, to the last door in this wing. She knocks on the wood, soft but quick, before the nerves tell her to turn around and go right back to her own room.

The door opens just enough for Vex’s face to appear in the crack. She’s mostly shadowed, but Keyleth can see her features soften.

“Darling.”

“I—I don’t—I can’t—” Keyleth forces herself to take a breath. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

The door opens further. Keyleth steps in and out of the way so Vex can close it again. There’s no sign of Lockheed, except maybe the window Vex has left open. Keyleth sighs. Maybe he’ll like the mountains outside Whitestone. Hopefully he will.

Keyleth stays standing there, hanging in the dark room, not sure what to do or say now that she’s here. Her thoughts still won’t quiet. She brings her hands up and wrings them in front of her chest.

Vex steps away from the door and reaches for her. She takes Keyleth by the arms, then lets her hands slide down to Keyleth’s, parting them so she can hold them each.

“I’m sorry,” Keyleth whispers, not quite meeting her eye.

“For what, dear?”

“It’s late, I shouldn’t be—”

“If I didn’t want you here, I would’ve told you to leave.”

Keyleth nods. Swallows. Vex’s fingers tighten around hers.

“Come here, darling.”

And then she’s pulling Keyleth closer, into her arms, and leading them over to the bed. They sit, and Vex lets go of Keyleth so she can bring her hand up and tuck her hair back from her face. Her fingers run over her scalp freely, smoothing over the place where her circlet usually sits.

“Do you want to talk?” she asks Keyleth.

“I’m…not sure.”

Vex nods. She shifts so she can face Keyleth more fully. “He died protecting his people, Keyleth. I don’t think he would’ve wanted it any other way.”

“He would’ve wanted more time,” Keyleth whispers.

“We can’t always ask for that.”

She closes her eyes, but suddenly all she can see is Vex’s pale, pale face, deep in the tomb of the Raven Queen’s champion. She opens her eyes again and stares at Vex. She’s still pale, but her eyes are moving. Shining. Looking straight back at her.

“He should’ve stayed with us.”

“There’s no guarantee he would survive everything we’ve been through, either.”

“At least he wouldn’t have been slaughtered as a mockery to his country.” Keyleth clenches her jaw and looks away. “And those people. The Ravenites. He never told us…”

“I know.”

“How could he support that? How could he be okay with it?”

“We’re not sure that he was.” At Keyleth’s look, Vex sighs. “He was…he still had a lot to learn. Just like the rest of us. But that doesn’t change what was in his heart. He loved his people. And he loved us.”

“Does he know we feel the same way?” It’s out before she can stop it, and she flinches in Vex’s grasp.

But Vex just sighs and shifts closer. She rubs Keyleth’s arm and waits for some of the tension to ease away. “I think he did.”

“But he left.”

“I know. I know, and it hurts. But…I think he was right. Our paths were separating. It was the best thing to do, at least in his mind. And it takes courage to make that decision.”

“Or stupidity.”

“Or stupidity,” Vex agrees. She rests her head on Keyleth’s shoulder. “He had plenty of both.”

She can’t help it. A giggle escapes her lips. She feels Vex shaking against her arm, laughter or tears, she’s not sure. Both, probably. It doesn’t really matter at this point. She lifts her arm to wrap around Vex.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“For what?”

“For not telling me to get lost at the door.”

Vex raises her head to stare. “Keyleth. I would never.”

Keyleth meets her gaze, but just as soon as she does, Vex looks away again. She bites her lip and frowns. Keyleth squeezes the hand she’s still holding.

“What is it?”

Nothing.” Vex shakes her head. “I guess I’m just wondering why you didn’t go to Vax’s room.”

Oh.

Keyleth ducks her head and ignores the heat in her cheeks.

“I—I’m sorry, Vex. I know you…well, no, I don’t actually know how you feel. But I know you want him to be happy. And I just…I can’t.”

She feels Vex’s gaze on her again. “Keyleth. Are you apologizing for not having feelings for my brother?”

“Um. Yes?”

Vex laughs—an actual laugh this time. The tears are still behind it, thick in her voice, but when Keyleth looks up her eyes are brighter.

“Darling, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But Vax—”

“Is an adult, and can handle his own feelings.” Vex sighs and tucks a bit of hair behind her ear. “I know I was…I didn’t like the idea of you with my brother, but I didn’t like the idea of him getting hurt. I took both out on you, and I shouldn’t have.”

“…Oh.” Keyleth lets out an awkward, quiet laugh. “I mean, I understand why.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No. But…the apology does.”

Vex glances up at her. “Okay.”

Keyleth drinks her in. Vex is here. She is here beside her, breathing and moving and talking and looking at Keyleth. She thinks about telling Vex why she came to her door. Not just because she didn’t want to go to Vax’s, but because…

But that’s a confession that can wait. She knows she’s good at ruining moments, and today has been ruined enough.

Still, she can’t help but ask, “Can…can I stay here tonight?”

Vex nods before she even finishes asking. “Of course you can.”

Keyleth nods back. The tears are rising again, tight in her throat, and she has to drop her gaze. Vex touches her cheek, then reaches for her shoulders and gently guides her down to the pillows.

They curl up close on the too-small bed. Keyleth is reminded of their early, early adventures, back when they could only afford so many rooms at the taverns they stayed in. She lets her arm wrap around Vex’s waist and shifts closer. Vex kisses her forehead, then the rise of her cheek beneath her eye.

“Try to sleep, darling,” she whispers. “You did a lot today, and we need you tomorrow.”

Keyleth nods, then ducks her head. She feels Vex’s hand at the base of her skull, guiding her until she can rest her face in the crook of her neck. She breathes in. Vex smells of leaves and bark, of Trinket’s fur, of the polish she uses on her bows. Keyleth breathes out, and she feels the tears start to fall again.

Vex scratches gently, soothingly, at her scalp.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, her own voice rough again. “I’m here. We’re here.”

Keyleth flattens her hand against Vex’s back. Here. They’re here.

They’re here, they’re here, they’re here. She repeats it to herself, again and again, until her mind is nothing but numbness, and quiet, and Vex.

She falls asleep.

#vexleth #cr fic #if you want the full experience listen to farewell summer by abby gundersen on loop as you read #or at least during the second part #vex'ahlia #keyleth #vox machina #listen i just really mostly wanted to write keyleth going to vex's door instead of vax's #and also what vex says to comfort her at the tomb #they don't really get to be soft with each other ever so like...self-indulgence for the win #gosh i haven't impulse-posted writing in....geez idek when #years? #this ship is dragging me kicking and screaming back into fic writing and i love it tbh #rip to my last nanowrimo project but a girl has priorities #and those priorities are apparently a druid and a ranger who never got to fall in love

[writingpaperghost]

There is a Me Who Can Become Strong (Chapter 7)

Chapter 7: The Reason for Some Lies!

Just who is the black Para-DX? Kiriya makes a claim to their identity... but that doesn't seem to be true. Meanwhile, Kiriya retrieves the Giri Giri Chambara Gashat.

AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/32857183/chapters/82521562

Right now, Emu has a choice to make, just like every day. He can stay and eat lunch with several other people, or he can retreat to the CR to play games or talk for the rest of his lunch break. Like nearly every day since joining the CR, he chooses to just go there. It is the easiest and best option, especially since he really didn’t want to interact with too many people. There’s a lot on his mind and he’s hoping a level of Giri Giri Chambara might help him feel at least a little better.

Or if nothing else, maybe he’d find something to talk with Poppy about. It’s not like he has a hard time, usually she’s interested in hearing about whatever game he’s playing. But he just… has a lot on his mind. Kiriya’s injuries from the black Para-DX, two days before, Saki’s… everything yesterday. Graphite, the Bugsters. The fact that Graphite is so much stronger than them even now, or how they don’t know what his motivations really are. There’s just too much to be thinking about, which is why he’d like to play something that would distract him and maybe let him get out some frustration.

As he arrives in the CR, Poppy wastes no time in shooting him a worried look, “Emu, have you really already eaten lunch?”

He smiles and nods, “Of course,” No one said that he had to speak exclusively the truth. Even he had secrets to keep. “It’s quieter down here, though. So I’d thought I’d play a bit. Unless there’s something you want to talk about?”

“No, no,” She shakes her head, “You’re just always down here around the same time. And it’s usually the beginning of when you should be having lunch. We wouldn’t want you not eating.”

“I’m fine, really,” He assured, “I’m not going to collapse or anything because I haven’t been eating.”

He pulls out his Gemnboy and begins to play a bit of Giri Giri Chambara. He’s found that it’s usually a pretty good game to play when he’s stressed or worked up about things and just needs to get some frustration out. You get to beat things up, after all, and for Emu, at least, that’s pretty good stress relief. Although really, playing games in general tend to do that.

After a while, he’s forced to pause the game because someone’s loudly knocking on the door to the CR. Poppy switches to Asuna and the two get up to investigate. They’re greeted with Kiriya – who should not be out of bed – and then another patient.

“Ace, Asuna,” Kiriya greets, “Found you a patient.”

Grabbing the Gamer Scope, Emu frowns when it results bring up two strains again. They’re different ones, Giri Giri Chambara and Jet Combat. Hopefully they’d be able to deal with them.

“We’ll take it from here,” Asuna says, helping Emu move the patient.

Emu calls back to Kiriya, “You should still be resting.”

---

Mu had just finished a bit of a boring round of Gekitotsu Robots when he finally remembers something he wants to talk to Kuroto about. “Hey, Kuroto?” He calls, “I think that Lazer knows about you being Gemn.”

Kuroto looks up and frowns, “What makes you say that?”

“Two days ago, when I fought him,” Mu began to explain, “He said something about knowing who Gemn was. Obviously, he couldn’t have known it was me because he doesn’t even know who I am and that was the first day I’d been Gemn. So that means he probably thinks that I was you.”

After taking a moment to rub his forehead, Kuroto finally says, “It doesn’t matter much. He can’t prove it, anyway,” He tries to give Mu a reassuring smile, of sorts, “Don’t worry about it. I doubt he’ll prove to be much trouble.”

“Okay,” Mu blinks, “If you say so.” Then he returns to playing some more Gekitotsu Robots.

---

“Saki,” Haima says, catching her attention as they walk into the CR, “I’d like you to focus on our new patient.”

She looked over up at him, “Mr. Okada?” She frowns a little, “Why me?”

“Well, I think you’ll be better suited than Hojo. No offense to him but…” The director makes a face, “I don’t think this is really something he’ll be very good at.”

Hesitantly, Saki nods, “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course, that’s a part of my job-“ At that moment, Haima trips. It’s not clear on what, but Saki manages to catch him, though he drops his binder in the doorway.

“Careful, Haima,” She warns, “We don’t want you getting hurt because you pulled an Emu and tripped on your own feet.”

Trying to straighten his shirt, Haima nods, “Of course, thank you Saki.”

From around the corner, unseen to the pair, Kiriya peeks in, seeing how the binder stopped the door from closing. He strolls right on in.

In the patient room, Saki frowns, her Gamer Scope confirming what Emu had told her. Two infections in Mr. Okada, Giri Giri Chambara and Jet Combat. Now that she’d confirmed it, she thought about how to go about removing the Bugster. She wasn’t a big fan of purposely stressing a patient just to get the Bugster to appear. So they’d just have to wait.

Not that they had to wait long. The Bugster soon appeared, taking the form of a double headed serpent. Saki takes out her Driver, but quickly realizes that the patient room isn’t exactly the best place to be having a fight, let alone against a Bugster. Using the Stage Select, she moves them to a different area, more suitable to fighting Bugsters. Now on a rocky sort of beach, she was ready to transform and fight the Bugster.

“Keep back, Emu,” She calls, clicking her Gashat.

Taddle Quest!

Let’s game! Metcha game! Mucha game! What’s your name? I’m a Kamen Rider!

Now transformed and in Level 1, Saki was ready to fight the Bugster. Sword in hand, she’s quickly able to dispatch the Bugster. Then, it split into two of the Bugsters like before, each with a Gashat in its forehead. One had the Giri Giri Chambara Gashat while the other had the Jet Combat Gashat. Those were the last two Gashats they needed to get from the Bugsters.

Unfortunately, with the appearance of the two Bugsters, also came the black Para-DX, in Level 3. Emu pulls out both the Mighty Action X and Gekitotsu Robots Gashat, while near where the Bugsters are, turning around to look at the black Para-DX, DoReMiFa Beat Gashat in hand.

Mighty Action X!

Gekitotsu Robots!

DoReMiFa Beat!

Do-Do-DoReMiFa-So-La-Ti-Do! Ok! DoReMiFa Beat!

Buttobase! Totsugeki! Gekitotsu punch! Gekitotsu Robots!

“You take the Bugster,” Saki calls, aiming her sword in the black Rider’s direction, “I’ll deal with the black Para-DX.”

Emu hesitates for a moment, before nodding, deciding that Gekitotsu Robots’ raw strength would probably be better against the Bugster, rather than the Rider. He nods and turns his attention to the Bugster with the Giri Giri Chambara Gashat in its head, the other being mysteriously no longer present. They’d have to worry about that later.

While Gekitotsu Robots made Emu stronger, it didn’t exactly make him fast. As it turns out, this Giri Giri Chambara Bugster was pretty fast. It wasn’t surprising, given the nature of the game, but it made fighting a little harder. Hard to land hits and even harder to dodge them. This wasn’t going well.

With Saki, she wasn’t fairing much better. She had the power of gimmicky attack on her side, but as it turned out, so did the black Para-DX. He yeets the wheels of Shakariki Sports’ bicycle at Saki. It flies past, distracting Saki and forcing Emu to turn his attention to trying to dodge the wheels.

The black Para-DX grabs the Giri Giri Chambara Bugster, and the two retreat.

---

Taiga pushes himself away from his desk, the wheels of his chair rolling. He’d been monitoring something on his computer screen, but whatever it was had disappeared. “Brat!” He called, “Time for the plan!”

Nico walks into the room, hefting her backpack onto her shoulder, “Okay, then,” She groans, “I need to find a better way to carry this stuff.”

“Just go,”

“I’m going!”

---

“I… don’t think Gekitotsu’s brute force is going to work well against the Giri Giri Chambara,” Emu sighs, “Not that I’m sure that DoReMiFa Beat will work well either. It’s just so fast.”

Saki sighs, rubbing her temple slightly, “And that black Para-DX manage to so easily distract us with the bicycle wheels.”

“And I thought it was weird when Kiriya used wheels as a weapon…”

“Did someone say my name?” Somehow, Kiriya casually strolled in, once again seeming as though he perfectly belonged. Somewhere in his head, Emu felt just the slight bit envious that Kiriya could so easily walk in somewhere where he didn’t belong, and act as though he didbelong. That was a skill that Emu would not claim to have.

Rolling her eyes slightly, Saki says, “How did you get in here?”

“Through the front door,” Kiriya shoves his hands in his pocket, “Anyway, figured you could use my help.”

“Why should we trust you?” Saki asks, “You lied about Graphite being the black Para-DX.”

Looking at the two of them with a serious expression Emu thought looked a little odd on a carefree person like Kiriya, Kiriya answers, “I had a friend die on Zero Day.”

Though Emu hated to be the one to point it out, Kiriya’s argument wasn’t exactly sound, “You said yourself that that too was a lie.”

Saki stands from the table, “I don’t think we can trust you,” She turns and leaves.

Emu doesn’t want to make a judgement quite like that so quickly, but he will admit that Saki has something of a point. Kiriya had lied to them at least twice but… All things considered, Emu wasn’t convinced that was enough to say he was entirely untrustworthy. Something told him that there was more to Kiriya Kujo than what he was letting on. Not that Emu really wanted to look much into it, but they had more important things to worry about.

He wanted to go talk with the patient, who, by looking through the window, he could see was being visited by whom he was pretty sure was his daughter. He makes his way downstairs and enters the room.

“Shiori,” Their patient, Mr. Okada, says to the woman who Emu is pretty sure is his daughter, “Don’t worry about the factory-“

“I want to make sure everything is okay while you’re here,” Shiori responds, “Make sure that everything’s in order.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Mr. Okada insists, “Now stop fussing.”

Emu frowned slightly, before returning to his normal expression, walking over to Mr. Okada and reminding him, “Be careful not to stress yourself too much,” He uses a gentle tone, like what he uses with nervous children. It’s more habit at this point than anything, “Game Disease can potentially be fatal…”Shiori uses this as more reason to insist on helping, not that Emu thought that it was a bad thing, although she might have chose a better way to say it, “See? Don’t worry about anything. I’ll make sure everything’s fine while you’re away, so you can focus on recovering.”

Mr. Okada huffs, “No, you will not,” Then, looking Shoiri straight in the eye adds, “Because I’m firing you from the factory.”

In a huff, Shiori stands up and turns heel, rushing out of the patient room. Emu turns to follow, making it out of the door of the patient room before he’s stopped. By Kiriya. What was he still doing here?

“Ace,” Kiriya starts and there’s something in his tone that Emu isn’t terribly fond of, “Sometimes, telling your patient’s the truth is the wrong thing.” A piece of attempted advice that was rich coming from the man who already had a history of lying, and Emu had known him less than a week. Besides, what would Kiriya know about having patients? He was a medical examiner, and this was not up his alley at all. At least, it shouldn’t be.

He wasn’t going to let Kiriya just tell him something like that. He may not be the most honest at times, but when it came to his patients, Emu believed he should be honest with them. “Well I can’t just lie to them.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to tell them the truth,” Kiriya responds, like Emu doesn’t know a thing or two about not lying but not telling the truth either. “He’s trying to distance himself from her. For her own good, not his.”

“How can you say that-“

It was about then, that Asuna comes bounding down the stairs. She pauses her hurry for a moment to look at the two of them, before saying, “You two, there’s a Bugster.”

The two rush out, able to find the Giri Giri Chambara Bugster that was attempting to attack Shiori. Before either of the two can transform, Saki appears, quickly transforming into her Level 2 with Taddle Quest and slashing at the Bugster. Given the type of game that Giri Giri Chambara is, Emu thinks that she might be a bit better suited. At least she had a sword.

Saki doesn’t get far before the black Ex-Aid appears again, immediately attacking Saki, giving the Bugster an opportunity to escape. Now, the black Rider is making sure Saki is distracted, unable to chase after the Bugster. It’s some stroke of luck that he’s only at Level 2 and not Level 3, otherwise Saki would have a lot harder time fighting him.

“Here’s an idea, Ace,” Kiriya says, pulling out his Gashat and Gamer Driver, “We work together to beat that Bugster. No lies or anything.”

A sane person might question whether to trust someone like Kiriya, who was not terribly honest about things. But Emu is not exactly what one might call a sane person. So thus, he decided, that given the situation and Lazer’s already higher speed than either he or Saki, that risking the possible negative results from such a team up would be worth it to beat the Bugster.

Pulling out his own Gashat, he answers, “Okay, let’s go,”

Mighty Action X!

Bakusou Bikes!

Level up! Mighty jump! Mighty kick! Mighty-Mighty Action X!

Level Up! Bakusou dokusou gekisou bousou! Bakusou Bike!

Kiriya takes his Level 2 form, still annoyingly a motorcycle, and Emu get’s on, the two wasting no more time in chasing the Bugster. Using his weapon’s gun form, Emu attempts to shoot at the Bugster, but finds that it’s still just a bit too hard to aim while on something moving in the unpredictable way that Kiriya did. Finally, though, they get close enough that Emu switches his weapon to axe form. He manages to cut off some of the Bugster’s blades, then they stop moving.

Emu hops off and borrows the Bakusou Bikes Gashat from Kiriya, putting it in his axe.

Bakusou Critical Finish!

Moments later, after slashing at the Bugster, it’s destroyed, the Giri Giri Chambara Gashat falling to the ground.

Game Clear!

“Hey, Ace,” Kiriya calls, his front moving a bit in Emu’s direction. “Mind letting me use that Gashat?”

The speed of Bakusou Bikes and Giri Giri Chambara would mix well, logically. Emu can see the strategy in it, and knowing what the last Gashat is, he’d think it would be better suited to Snipe. He’s also a bit curious what will happen, so he shrugs and activates the Gashat.

Giri Giri Chambara!

Then places it in Lazer’s Gamer Driver, flipping the lever.

Giri-Giri-Giri-Giri Chambara!

In an awkward sequence of events, Kiriya finally makes it from a motorcycle to something that’s at least bipedal. To be fair, he looks much like a normal person, though his armor bright yellow like his Level 2, resembles that of a samurai’s.

“Oh,” Kiriya says, stretching slightly, “That reminds me,” They begin to make there way to where Saki and black Para-DX is.

“What does? And of what?”

“I know who Gemn is,”

“Gemn?” Emu’s not really sure why they were apparently now talking about a gaming company.

“You know, the black Para-DX?” Before now, Emu did not know. Now he did. Which is odd but okay.

“You said you knew who he was before,” Emu reminds him as they finally arrive. He’s about to say something to Saki, who definitely seems worn out but…

“Gemn, that black Para-DX there, is Kuroto Dan.” Which is not the most outlandish statement Kiriya had made. Kuroto Dan was a wanted criminal and had a connection to Game Disease.

Gemn’s response to this statement was, firstly, a movement that might have conveyed shock. Then, he pulls out the Shakariki Sports Gashat, transforming to Level 3. Kiriya grabs his weapon, which appeared to be a pair of sickles, each as bright of yellow and pink as Lazer himself.

Much like when Emu fought Gemn with Gekitotsu Robots, Kiriya seemed to be fairing well against Gemn. Though Gemn attempts to block his attacks with his hammer, Kiriya’s too fast and is quickly landing hits. Then, he combines his sickles, turning them into a bow. He places the Giri Giri Chambara Gashat into it.

Giri Giri Critical Finish!

The attack lands, Gemn not being able to do much to block it. Yet when the smoke clears, the one standing there isn’t Kuroto Dan. No, the man there is a little too short and too brightly colored. He wore a bright pink hoodie, one that Emu thinks is Mighty themed, with long orange sleeves underneath. His hood’s pulled up, aiding the hair over one of his eyes in obscuring his face. The striking part is the eye they can see, slightly. It almost seems as though it glows. He holds the Gamer Driver and Gashats.

With what might have been a smile, though it certainly lookednervous, the man says, “Sorry Lazer, you’re princess is in another castle.”

The man turns around, clearly about to leave and in a hurry. Though his foot catches on something, perhaps a crack in the concrete and he stumbles a bit. He quickly recovers and sprints off, leaving behind a trio of confused Riders.

“That,” Saki begins, sounding certainly annoyed, “Was not Kuroto Dan.” Emu can’t help but silently agree.

“Maybe he was mistaken?” Emu offers weakly, with little effort. No one was a good enough liar to get themselves out of this one. And as much as Emu thought Kiriya was a good enough person… There was just too much to take into account.

“No, I don’t think he was,” She says, “Clearly, he can’t be trusted. That’s twice now that he’s lied about that Rider’s identity. And that friend of his? He died alright, but not from Game Disease. All he wanted from this was the Gashat.” She turns and leaves, leaving Emu and Kiriya standing there.

Finally speaking the words that have been bugging him for so long, Emu asks, “Kiriya, just what type of person are you?” He watches Kiriya closely, though there’s no reaction to be seen, “You lie about Gemn’s identity and about your friend. But why? What do you gain?”

Kiriya laughs, “She’s right, you know. I only wanted the Gashat,” He turns to walk away, “You shouldn’t be so trusting, Ace. I know I, for one, can’t be trusted.”

Emu takes a step forward, wondering if he should try to follow or stop Kiriya. Instead, he says, “I don’t believe that. There’s more going on,” Then, as Kiriya looked back at him, said in a way that wasn’t quite Emu, “I like a good puzzle.”

---

Nico had managed to track down that other Bugster, the Jet Combat one, thanks to Taiga. She had to admit, he could be pretty helpful. Mostly, she just needed the Gashat, though she was pretty sure getting rid of the Bugster first would be the best way of doing that.

Unfortunately, the Bugster got away before she could defeat it or get the Gashat from it. So she’d have to try again and hope for the best. Ugh, this was such a pain to get one game cartridge.

---

When Mu arrives to where he stays with Kuroto and Graphite, the first thing he says to Kuroto is, “I don’t think Brave and Para-DX trust Lazer very much anymore.”

Kuroto looks up from his computer, “Why’s that?” He actually seemed rather curious.

“Well, Lazer claimed that Gemn was you – how he knew that’s what the Rider is called is beyond me – but when he managed to knock me out of the suit – don’t worry, I’m fine, really – it was, well, me.” Mu gestures to himself, moving towards the couch and pulling his hood down. He pulls some hair clips out of his pocket and begins to clip his bangs out of his face, “So they think he’s lied again.”

Looking thoughtful, Kuroto comments, “That could be helpful,”

Graphite groans, “When are we getting on with the plan?” He huffs, looking between Mu and his nest, “Because I’m getting impatient.”

“Snipe needs to get Jet Combat,” Kuroto responds, “Then you can have your turn.”

“And you’ll obviously do great, Graphite,” Mu adds, not noticing the way that Graphite’s gaze flickered between him and the nest. Otherwise, he’d be a little wary of getting pulled in there. He’s managed to avoid it for a while, but one of these days, his luck would run out.

“You should sleep,” Graphite immediately says.

Kuroto nods, “He’s right, you know.”

Though Mu shakes his head, “No,” He says, “Not happening.”

#kamen rider exaid #kamen rider #kamen rider ex aid #my writing #there is a me who can become strong

[karaslluthor]

supercorp fanfic masterpost pt.2

this has been in my drafts for over a year so here ya go and hasn't been updated since then but if u haven't read these then ur welcome. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

its literally a big ass list jsyk and i did all the tumblr tags back then so idk if they are still the same users but hopefully lmao. 

original part 1 is here boysss

MULTI FICS

somewhere i have never travelled (http://archiveofourown.org/works/9268886/chapters/21008012)

kara and lena visit all different places lenas lived and then they find a home together and its super cute and fluffy I cry

Paranoia Incarnated - @justmickeyfornow

mickey is my fucking supercorp spiritual guider with the best fucking fic and ive read it about 322934 times and still is sooo good. Also the whole heartbeat thing KILLS me. SO MUCH ANGST but literally its worth the death u go through trust me

Transcendent Interactions 

Kara and lena share this bond thing from birth and can feel each others emotions and they finally meet and its so great like im actually fucking in love with this fic and kara gets herself off all the time thinking lena doesn’t know idk just read it u wont regret I stg

Closer and Closer (Until We Collide) - @hallow777 

Im a slut for bed sharing tropes and this is so CUTE like lenas all freaking out because she keeps waking up cuddling kara and alex is oblivious to everything and its just soooo good

So, This Happened?

Drunk kara leaves drunk alex for a more suitable cuddle buddy aka lena lesbian luthor and lena sleeps in a supergirl t shirt bc of course

Sojourn 

Holy mother of fuck as if this fic didn’t absolutely ruin my fucking life??? Lena has to go to London for a month so she invites kara to come with her and lena has a gay awakening and realises shes in love with kara and its SO FUCKING GOOD

just one wrong move (baby, baby)

lena is having karas baby from this alien tech accidentally! And lena is so loved and its so cute like honestly and obviously they fall in love bc duh

hold me, my dear (and don't let go)

kara is a professional cuddler and lena hires her services bc shes a sad touch starved young lady and deserves to have some hugs in her life hello fluff my old friend discovering the moon 

alex and lena brotp and holy fuck does it deliver!!!! Alex is like a wingwoman we all need and kara and lena just need to communicate tbh but AMAZING

Focus on Something You Love, and Breathe

Lex is a little shit as always and wants to kill lena bc he thinks shes in love with supergirl (which she is) so kara says she can stay with her and obviously the angst is juicy and ruined my life. So. Good. Read. It.

Offstage 

College theatre au but like literally one of the best college aus ive ever read!!!! Lenas just a big lesbian and karas confused and they bang secretly and its glorious

it's a boy!

lena takes in a super powered alien baby that falls from the sky and gets a weird neighbor in the form of kara danvers and theres not many chapters yet so im not sure whats happening with kara yet but im super excited for this!!!

Break My Fall 

Kara dates monel but kisses lena as supergirl and its angsty and smutty and all round a good fucking time

carefulness can be damned 

Post 3x7, literally smut with some plot need I say more??

A Foolish Wit - @seabiscuits-us​

if you haven’t read seabiscuits fics are you even a supercorp fan?? Lena needs a husband and Clark Danvers is positively charming and also actually disguised as a man, I mean.. quality content

In My Veins

im soooo excited for this fic because the lena/alex brotp is written so well!!! Basically lena and alex become really good friends bc they both deal with their issues by drinking obvs and kara thinks they are secretly dating and gets upset and im SO READY FOR THIS ANGST

Would You Catch Me If I Fall For You ('Cause I'm falling) 

This is absolutely amazing and so captivating and I was honestly on edge the whole time kudos to the author!!!!! Kara goes back in time to warn lena about her dying on the venture and lena falls in love with her but she disappears and then when real kara and lena meet, kara doesn’t remember knowing lena and ughsalkdhsla its so good.

We Need a New Song

Oh my good golly gosh this fic ruined my life. Ballet au that has barely any ballet and an abundance of GAY and I had to take a moment after reading this to collect myself tbh

and stick it into someone else's heart 

Rhea infected lenas boobs in a cage dress with some weird alien stuff and her and kara have to bang or THEY’LL DIE pretty much but they love each other

The Laws of Fate 

soulmate au where everyone has a red string and lenas points to the sky and shes confused af but it’s a gay slow burn and the angst is good for ur soul

My Sun 

Lena gets into a car accident and kara thinks she died but lex is a maniac and wants lenas help and fdjsaklfs it’s a rollercoaster let me tell you

Mercy on Me 

lena falls under black mercy and in order to bring her back karas has to break her poor little gay heart bc lena thinks her and kara are in looooove AWWW heart shatters

Be your own Hero 

Collection of supercorp one shots!!!!!! Quality content lemme tell yaaaa

pick a blossom and hold it to your breast (honey, you know that’s my love bursting loud from inside) 

kara and lena rely on their late night phone calls with each other and get the feels and go on a date and they are just cute adorable dorks that are nervous  

your voice is pretty, baby (but i’d rather have your pretty skin instead) 

part 2 of pick a blossom ^^^ still adorably cute and a smut chapter I mean come on, treat yoself

Firsts 

kara and lenas first told in the cutest wayyyyyyyy

Whispers 

lena works with lillian to save supergirl and its oh so angsty and kara always believes her girl bc that’s canon

My personal Santa in heels 

Kara loves Christmas almost as much as she loves lena, almost

Timer 

Soulmate AU where everyone can have a device installed to tell them the time until they meet their soulmate, kara and lena love each other but kara cant have a timer installed obvs kryptonian skin and its so cute and soft and angsty

The Fatal Flaw 

Super cool and different fic and keen to see more chapters from this!! Kara doesn’t have her powers (yet) and she meets lena at a party at college and then clark tells her shes actually an alien ooooo im keen

Stay the night 

Lena inherits the national city womens basketball team and star player kara danvers is a muscly babe and they try not to fall in love BUT ITS JUST TOO HARD BECAUSE THEY ARE SOULMATES also I love jack in this such a wingman

1865 

MATTTTTTTTEEEE lena is the daughter of the governor and shes a little rebel. She falls in love with kara but her family has arranged her marriage to monel BUT LIKE THEY JUST LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH btw they are aliens but like in 1865 so cool. Pls update I love this so much

All Our Bodies in the Grass - @seabiscuits-us​

fuckkkkk this fic honestly, amish au and lena knows nothing but kara is down to help her out while also sharing lovely girl mags ;)

B.F.F.W.E.B

Kara and lena are friends with benefits but feels get involveddddd, lenas a useless lesbian

All the little lies 

Kara comes to earth and falls in love with lena but she has to go back to krypton and breaks lenas heart in the process, but she comes back and its only been like 7 months but its been like 3 years for lena!!! (I cant remember exact dates don’t judge me)

half melted m&m's 

lena needs a fake wife to stay in the country so kara is ever so helpful and agrees to be her wife, oh I do love a fake wife trope and this delivers!!!!

The Wrong Superhero 

Lena gets saved by batwoman and supergirl thinks she is super jealous because of superhero-related reasons but shes just in love with lena

We'll Take on the World 

College au, just useless fools in love that need to communicate and make out more

And they call me from beyond the stars 

Omg I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH ok so kara is a ghost (still from krypton and stuff) but no one can see her except lena so lena works on trying to get her back into the physical plane of existence so she can find alex but they FIND LOVE WITH ONE ANOTHER oh my god so angsty let me tell ya be warned

Wait for me to come home 

https://lostariels.tumblr.com/

idk where to even start on this fic honestly, im pretty sure most people have read this bc it’s a rite of passage but fuck it gets me everytime!!!! Army au and there is so much angst and I love it

An Unexpected Surprise 

supercorp baby au!!! Kara and lena bang and kara ends up preggers. Iconic  

Days in a Lifetime 

Kara and lena grow up together, massive slowburn but worth the wait!!!!! ACTUALLY GO AND READ ALL OF STENS BECAUSE I JUST REALISED HOW MANY I PUT IN HERE AND THEY ARE ALL FUCKING GREAT

Do you wanna (like you know I do) - @seabiscuits-us​

another seabiscuit, I couldn’t not put this in!!! CAPE COD and sharing of bunk beds!!! Pls update this my soul is withering away

Purple and Black are my Favorite Colours 

Kara gets in contact with kryptonite that makes her gp! And her and lena b a n g    

ONE SHOTS

danishes and other sweet treats 

oh my fuck this is so cute and its like a long one shot so I mean get on it because kara and lena go to a conference and share a hotel room need I say more  

Sun Kissed 

Kara takes lena on a roadtrip to the science museum for her birthday and my good golly gosh its so cute I could ascend to heaven

Only Human 

A one shot with two chapters in different POV but lenas jealous of monel and then supercorp bang and its all angsty and lena protects kara and tbh they need to communicate but happy endings and love all round

The Right Thing 

Lena freaks out because lex knows her and supergirl are dating and does the most dramatic thing (of course) by distancing herself from kara and did I say angst???/ also I cried multiple times in this

funny how the stars crossed right 

Kara and lena keep meeting at parties and have super dorky costumes and fall in love (literally love anything written by you btw, im going to go ahead and say I would have all yours bookmarked so everyone just check them ALL out)

Accidental Text

kara accidentally sends a love confession to lena and its short and cute!      

Unspoken Promises

supergirl and reign battle and lena finds out about kara being supergirl and supercorp are just obliviously in love

Green (Kara loves it and hates it in equal measure)

Im a sucker for a jealous trope and boy does this deliverrrr. Karas hella jealous of lena having other friends but realises its because shes super in love with her

Crush

Karas jealous because lena is flirting with supergirl but lena knows kara is supergirl so shes actually flirting with kara, nice!

My Donuts

Karas really jealous of sam and lena spending heaps of time together and then kara walks in on them having donuts and she fucking loses it because its their thing duh.

when we get there 

Lena invites kara to her beach house to chill and they obvs fall in love because they are cute af

Have a Break 

Lena is determined to work out how to use a vending machine to get kara her candy and kara and winn are watching it all unfold via cameras in catco, basically lena vs. the machine (himym singing voice)

Self doubt and comforting talks 

Drunk kara, comforting lena fluff and adorableness

Shopping carts and a beautiful girl 

Kara crashes into lenas car in a shopping cart and they go on a date and its SO CUTE

Distractions 

lenas oblivious to kara being supergirl even though kara slips up all the time!!! #nicehalloweencostumekara

Lip Bites & Long Gazes 

lenas a big gay flirt and kara gets frustrated and flustered and calls her out and they make out

Off the Record 

kara spots lena at a gay club and they dance and make out *lizzie mcguire voice this is what dreams are made of*

Not so secret 

the superfriends take a weekend away and kara and lena bang pretty much smut but its cute

come be my lover, be my getaway car 

How many amazing tropes can you fit into one fic (aka the fic that made me lose my fucking mind oh my god its so good, had it include)

A one time thing

Kara and lena end up banging in a motel and kara has an internal meltdown its great

This is Home 

Listen here, this is the most adorable thing my two eyes have ever witnessed. Lena doesn’t really have a home kara the sweet soul she assists her in finding a home with her (aka its kara, kara is her home get it)

Her Biggest Fan 

lena is apart of the supergirl fandom, aka shes me

Drunk Puppy

kara being a drunk gay mess wanting to hunt seashells with lena

Act Natural

kara and lena have hickies and try to hide them on a beach trip with the gang  

Like a date, date 

kara asks lena on a date and lena has a gay panic attack pretty much

Datable 

everyone thinks kara and lena are dating so they just start dating? Amazing

Stop following me, creep 

Please clarify 

Lena tries to tell kara she loves her and wants to date but karas an alien and just doesn’t get it, so cuteeeee

Fate is Written in the Ink (part 1) 

Fate is Written in the Ink (part 2)

Soulmate au!!!! Any ink on your skin appears on your soulmates and omg its so cute like kara draws all this art on herself and lena gets to see it too!!!!!

Muddle my heart (then add a dash of lime) 

Kara keeps going to the bar because punk/bartender Lena is a babe and she has a big lesbian crush on her

be hopeful, don't get broken (stay caught up in the moment) 

angsty dog au and I mean PUPPIEs and SUPERCORP need I say more?

The makings of a family 

Clark is the one who arrives after being stuck in the phantom zone and kara has to look after him and lena helps her out and wow new baby for supercorp

Let Your Guard Down 

Lena in a DEO uniform sparring with kara and its so angsty because lenas mad at kara for not telling her the supergirl secret and then they bang and did I already mention lena in a DEO uniform???  

Do you not like the service here?

Thirsty kara and waitress lena, lenas jealous of alex l o l

here is where time is on our side (part 1) 

our corner of the universe (part 2) 

long oneshot but fuck me its so good. Post daxamite invasion/mon-el coming back and both are healing from everything and go on a roadtrip just wherever the map takes them and oh my fuck its so cute and everything u want in a fic. Part two is the follow up

The Uncanny Valley 

cadmus replaces real lena with a robot version and kara didn’t know but then kara finds lena and its cute  

put these battered bones to rest 

soulmate au (you should know by now im a sucker for a good soulmate au), lena has a foreign name on her hip (its kara btw)

pain

another soulmate au hhehehe soulmates feel each others pain obvs both these babies have a lot of paiiiiiin in their lives

Love is Garbage 

Literally a garbage truck au, im not even going to say more

i know you're out there somewhere waiting (i know the stars can hear us praying) 

Whats this??? Another soulmate au!!! Classic lover one arm, enemy on the other, honestly lena deserves more and just waits for kara to love her and I love this fic, also they help sam!!  

Monster in the Mirror 

Supercorp reveal in the middle of the lena/edge poisoning children episode oooooooh so angsty but happy love ending

Safety 

Supercorp first ever sleepover!!! This is so cute stop

Please Clarify 

Lena tries to ask kara out in every single way possible and kara is an oblivious alien

love is a flower, you gotta let it grow 

Unrequited love makes u grow flower petals in your lungs but when ur love is returned it clears up, this was dope and I love ur work

where our hands hurt from healing - @seabiscuits-us​

its seabiscuit do I need to say more?????? I will tho. Alex and lena match on tinder and become besties and I live for alex/lena brotp so….

blessed be (the mystery of love) - @seabiscuits-us​ 

*dj Khaled voice* ANOTHER ONE, look I love every single fic this one does not disappoint and nothing like a good light hearted first date fisting hahahahahaha

The Luthor and the Super That Saved the World 

Fit it fic for the season three finale where there is more supercorp and less shit writing, LOVE STENS WORK

Kara Danvers and the Brown Belt of Lesbianism 

Karas gay brown belt that she always wears that makes her look like a big ol lesbian drives lena mental bc she so gay

SIN

ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING BY JAZZFORDSHIRE IM NOT FUCKING JOKING LET YOURSELF FALL INTO THIS SMUTFEST AND LIVE UR BEST FUCKING LIFE AND IF YOU HAVENT READ THE CAMPING AU UR NOT EVEN A SUPERCORP STAN

Pleasure 

like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry 

What Happens in the K Room Doesn't Stay in the K Room 

green-eyed monster

Kara shows Lena what makes her Super 

Supergirl, Kara, and a Luthor walk into a bar... 

Late Night Heroics 

Good Vibrations 

Two Lena Luthors and a blonde walk into a bedroom... 

Her perfect match 

Girls' Night 

Happy Halloween, Supergirl 

What She Wants 

make the rules then break them 

an animal within an animal 

THE WILDEST THING IVE EVER READ, STRAP THE FUCK IN (youll understand my pun when you’ve read it)

#supercorp #supercorp masterlist #fic rec #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #supercorp fanfic

[jubans]

title: 505 pairing: furuichi sakyo/fem!reader rating: m (mature) premise: maybe someday, the two of you could go beyond the four corners of that dreary hotel room. 

There's hesitation in your posture when you raised your hand to knock on the room Sakyo had texted you about earlier—sinking deep into your bones as your better judgement screamed at you to turn back, go home, and never speak to him again. 

Any other woman of marriageable age would think that maybe meeting up with a yakuza at a run-down hotel on a regular basis might be a bad idea. But you've known Sakyo for so long, that you've committed the fact that he's not a bad person into mind long before you even started doubting these midnight trysts. 

So, you knocked. Three times, like you always did. Loud enough to announce your presence but soft enough not to disturb the silence that enveloped the dingy hallway. 

You shoved your clammy hands into the front pocket of your hoodie, nervously bouncing on the balls of your feet when you heard him shuffling from the inside. Why you made such an effort to cover up—hoodie, long sleeves, sweats and all—when it was the height of summer and the heat of the day still carried into the night was beyond you. Maybe it was because you wanted to seem unassuming. Maybe it was to fool yourself (and hopefully him) that you didn't long for his touch in ways that you shouldn't even begin to think about.

But when Sakyo cracked the door open once he's taken off the locks, your legs moved before you could even think—arms going around his lithe frame as you moulded your lips into his. 

He was stunned in place for a moment, unable to reciprocate. But you practically felt his armor of civility fall apart when Sakyo tangled his fingers in your hair, angling your face just so before you felt his tongue licking into the crevices of your mouth. Your mind was so engulfed in the haze of his rich, expensive cologne that you barely registered it when Sakyo began moving. He manhandled you into the room without breaking the union of your lips, slamming you against the door when he locked it shut. The soft whimper that escaped your chest was muffled but you could feel Sakyo's mouth twitching slightly against yours when he heard it.

"This wasn't part of our agenda," he breathed, momentarily breaking apart from you only to dip down for another heated kiss.His light hair was soft in your fingers as you used each tuft as a means to tug his face impossibly closer to yours. You felt the frame of his glasses digging into the bridge of your nose, but you couldn't comment on it because his hands were hiking underneath your hoodie. A growl rumbled somewhere low in his chest when he discovered how many layers you wrapped yourself in, pulling away to cast you a disconcerted glare.

You cracked him a toothy grin. "I went here under the pretense that you wouldn't respond like you did just now if I jumped you like that."

"You're impossible," Sakyo muttered before peeling himself away from you, leaving you flushed and disheveled by the door to Room 505.

The blond man walked over to the queen-sized mattress in the middle of the room, seating himself on the edge. As Sakyo laced his hands together on his legs, you couldn't help but notice the way his face contorted into something serious so quickly, as if he didn't just have you pressed up against a door a few moments ago. 

You gulped, straightening yourself out before sitting at a short distance away from him on the bed. 

Sakyo heaved a sigh that sounded like broken promises and dreams that slipped away too early. He promptly plucked his glasses from his face, fingers going up to massage the bridge of his nose. You could feel your lips stretch into a frown at the sight of him. He was the type that broods every time he gets, but you've never seen him look this...agitated.

"Sakyo?" you called out, hoping he would humor you with a response. But when all you're met with was white noise and scratchy music playing from the next room over, you scooted a little closer to him, reaching out to enclose his cold, cold hands in yours. 

"You mind telling me what's wrong?" you murmured, nudging your nose in the crook of his neck. You felt him shiver once your breath fanned his skin, but Sakyo would let himself get shot first before admitting to vulnerability. 

"It's just the usual hiccups I get at work," he said, and your grimace only deepened. Why was he still being so infuriatingly vague with you?

But you knew that there was no helping it. Sakyo had a mind that you haven't quite mapped out yet even after years of playing house with him like this. You knew better than to dip your toes into the realm of the yakuza, but that wouldn't stop you from hoping that maybe, just maybe, this time he'll let you in. That he'll let himself be a little more human and less of the demon people made the debt-collecting yakuza out to be. 

"I called you here for a different purpose," he told you, voice just barely above a whisper. 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, pulling away as you felt him tug his hands back from your grasp. The urgency in his actions pricked your heart like tiny needles, but you decided against making a show of disappointment. He didn't need anything else to drag him downward.

"One of the groups we've previously had a scuffle with in the past has been doing some background research of their own with my life," Sakyo spoke in his typically condescending Sakyo fashion. But there was a strain in his voice that you only noticed with how long you've spent listening to the low baritone of his words as he lied next to you in bed. The dread only pools in your gut, but you let him continue without interruption. 

"Apparently, they thought it would gravely affect me if something were to happen to a certain woman I always meet in this very hotel." He threw his head back, gazing at the ceiling with a lopsided smirk curling his lips. "Pathetic of them to think so, really. Were they so desperate to get dirt on me that they thought targeting my evening partner would be enough of a leverage?"

Evening partner. You didn't like the sound of that. 

He sighed again, and this time you take the time to let your eyes wander across the rest of the room. His suitcase was lying on top of a desk tucked away in the corner; his coat folded neatly on top of the surface. Other than that, the interior seemed untouched, like Sakyo just went inside to sit on the bed and nothing else. 

You began to feel the sting of betrayal slowly rooting itself in the recesses of your heart. Of course you had an...inkling that this physical relationship with him would never blossom into something more since the beginning. He was a man that had his needs, and what else could a man like Sakyo want other than a woman who was a decent fuck and never asked too many questions?

"I have a property somewhere in Sapporo," he suddenly spoke again, shattering the self-loathing that you were starting to enclose yourself in.

You blinked at Sakyo, confusion dancing in your eyes, but he gave you reprieve by adding, "It's an old Western-style manor sitting on the edge of a cliff that gave me one of the best oceanic views I've seen in my life." There's a pause in his words, like he couldn't quite figure out where he's going with this narrative, much like you. But when he looked back at you, his lavender eyes were glazed over with a melancholy you never even thought Sakyo was capable of.

But the look was gone just as quickly as it came. Sakyo assumed his mask of neutrality once more, chuckling airily. "I've been looking for suitable caretakers for it, but all the maids I kept sending would steal one of the precious artifacts I've been keeping there. If you won't let me pitch in with your monthly rent, then at least let me give you somewhere better to live."

Your mouth hung agape at his words once you've finally had a few moments to absorb them. "Are you telling me to move halfway across the country to take care of a damn house?"

Sakyo shrugged. "You'll even have a secure source of income once you arrive. That is more ideal than working three minimum wage jobs, barely being able to make ends meet here in this dump of a city, now is it?" 

A biting retort rested on the tip of your tongue, but you held it back because he was right. Because you refused every single one of Sakyo's offers for a loan (he even offered to just give you money with nothing in return), you had no one but yourself to rely on as you struggled to make a living. 

But he had no right to point that out as he did. As someone who used to be dirt poor, he should know better than to—

Oh. 

Everything clicked into place just before your frustration could boil over. When the haze of irritation had cleared in your head, you dared to look at Sakyo straight in the eye. The low light from the lamp on the nightstand was the only source of illumination in the room, yet you were still able to see the way he was struggling to maintain his façade of apathy. Your mouth twitched into a sly smile. You got him all figured out.

"Who knew you cared so much about your evening partner, Sakyo?" you chuckled, kicking off your shoes so that you could crawl closer to him. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he argued weakly when you latched your lips onto the column of his throat. The groan that resounded in his chest did nothing but stoke the flames of the desire you thought had already smouldered. Sakyo shuddered under your touch, and you giggled, tugging on the delicate fabric of his turtleneck before whispering:

"Thank you."   

When daylight broke through the cracks in the curtains, you found yourself squinting at the way the sunlight razed your vision. The bed was devoid of body heat other than your own, and you almost wanted to laugh at yourself for still not getting used to Sakyo's urgency to leave the moment the sun peeked from the horizon. 

But this time, you didn't just wake up to a hotel room with nothing but your clothes littered on the floor. At the desk in the corner, Sakyo's coat was gone, but his suitcase still lay untouched. 

You frowned, wrapping a towel around your bare frame as you padded over to check it out. He wasn't the kind of man that would forget his belongings anywhere.

As you took a closer look, you noticed that a note was stuck to the surface with a series of numbers scribbled in haste. Was this, perhaps, the combination needed to open it? Shrugging, you tried unlocking the suitcase, following the exact way Sakyo had written the numbers. It opened with a soft click once you managed to punch in the last one, and you wasted no time sifting through its contents.

Inside was a passport, a plane ticket, various documents, and fat wads of cash that had you gasping once you've totalled in how much Sakyo had left inside. 

This can't be right, you thought to yourself. Why would he just leave these behind?

But as you rifled through the suitcase further, you found a sealed, white envelope. You tore it open without a second thought, only to find a small key with a torn out page lying inside. With trembling hands, you unfolded the piece of paper, feeling your shoulders relax at the sight of Sakyo's hurried and terrible handwriting.  

(Name), 

If you're reading this, that just means you've taken up my offer, yes? Well, I'll waste no time. Inside are all the necessities you'll be needing once you head north. The key inside the envelope opens the front door to the manor. The address is written in one of the travel documents I've fabricated, along with the fake passport. Don't worry, you won't get held up at the airport for it. 

It's unlike me to impose something so sudden, I know. But as long as I have enemies, it isn't safe for anyone to be around me. My well-being would further be appeased at the knowledge of you sitting pretty in a mansion, away from the clutches of whoever might make the mistake of coming for you, as well.

I know I am not the most...expressive of lovers. But take this as your pass to see me as I am. Not as a yakuza. Not as your evening partner. But as Furuichi Sakyo. Hoping for this might be a shot in the dark,  but maybe someday, the two of us could go beyond the four corners of that dreary hotel room.

Yours, Sakyo

#a3! #a3 #act! addict! actors! #act addict actors #a3 headcanons #a3 fanfiction #sakyo furuichi #furuichi sakyo #sakyo #sakyo x reader #a3 x reader #idk what to classify this as #angst #???

[iwritethat]

Damian Wayne: Expectations

A/N: I have no idea where this came from but I wrote it anyway.

Warnings: Like 1 swear word

>>>>——————————>

Life in Gotham could be difficult, horrific and down right dangerous - so like any other kid who had been living it rough you turned to crime. Firstly creating an alias for yourself equip with fitted black costume as the colour made it easier to move through Gotham at night, it consisted of a hood and bandana to cover your face and conceal your identity. You took up minor theft, so by the time you reached your teenage years you were now a seasoned professional - you had perfected 'slight of hand', acquired fighting skills as well as being very good with disguising yourself to gain entrance to otherwise unreachable areas/events.

Most of the time it was thievery from those who seemed more wealthy, you considered it better to steal from the wealthier population rather than the poor as they would need their money more - though you were a criminal you did have some values intact. This time however was unusual, Catwoman had asked for your assistance on a job, you had met Catwoman before on numerous occasions and got on quite well but you didn't expect her to ever ask for your help, clearly she thought very highly of your abilities.

As a result, after robbing a museum of a cat sculpture you found yourself standing on a rooftop waiting for the promised payment your partner was currently handing you.

"Catwoman, you're going to have to return that." A deep voice sounded from behind you, sending a string of curse words through your head.

Surprise surprise, you turned to find the Dark Knight accompanied by Robin who had joined you on the building.

"Who are you?" The sidekick asked bluntly taking a step toward you.

"Hm, wouldn't you like to know?" You quickly replied, matching the arrogant tone meanwhile Catwoman looked genuinely amused. Your temporary partner, clearly unwilling to simply hand over the stolen goods, began to flirt with Batman - apparently reoccurring behaviour judging by Robins foul expression.

"They do this often then?" You commented, observing the two adults.

"Too often. You still didn't answer my question thief." Robin replied, getting into a defensive stance mirroring his mentor.

"It's (v/n) - thief is just rude birdboy." You earned a growl before he came at you with his katana.

Though you weren't specifically trained in any martial arts, you picked up a thing or two by watching others or brief involvements with street gangs which allowed you to hold your own somehow. Instinctively, you pulled out your daggers to clash with the oncoming blade before kicking Robin in the abdomen and running for it. Successfully, you made your escape without being followed equip with money from Catwoman and so, you made you way 'home'.

.

Over the next few weeks, you had various encounters with Robin which you found peculiar as there were far more dangerous villains out there that required his attention but here he was again - confronting you about the deal you’d just completed, selling off a rich mans watch for a very good price.

"Why are you doing this?" The vigilante asked, arms crossed as he blocked your path.

"Because it pays well? I'm not quite sure what you expected." You sarcastically remarked, scanning the area for an exit.

"You seem like a good person, from my observations you only rob the wealthy. You should use your skills for something more productive." He commented, noticing your glare.

"Uh huh. You're like the same age as me Robin, you can't tell me what I should be doing. Besides, I didn't have the perfect life, I highly doubt you grew up on the streets - you can't exactly get 'productive' with that, I wouldn't have these skills otherwise. So sorry hero! If this was all part of the ‘turning me to the good side’ plan - you've failed." You defended, venom lacing your tone despite the mockery situated there. It was possible that you were a little harsh but you didn't need this at the moment, you had somewhere urgent to be.

Robin released a frustrated sigh meanwhile you put your plan of escape into action, you hopped onto the dumpster to the left, grabbing the metal ladder that lead to the staircase running up the side of the apartments. You slipped through an open window muttering a string of apologies as you ran through the now startled woman's apartment and out the front door, you made your way out of the building through the fire escape.

Checking your surroundings you discovered you'd lost the Batman's sidekick allowing relief to flood your body, though you were growing more suspicious - it shouldn't be that easy to escape Robin but it was almost like he let you get away in all of the times you'd encountered him after your first meeting. You had seen him fight other villains on the news and take them down with a degree of brutality, yet with you things never escalated to that level. Robin was obviously a better fighter and had beat you many times, brought you the police station handcuffed at least twice but never really hurt you.

Shaking your head out of the trance, you entered the old corner shop you'd made your way to and collected the items you needed. Walking over to the familiar owner of the small shop, you were greeted with a warm smile, you'd expect a form of hostility from anyone else considering your vigilante attire but upon visiting the shop on multiple occasions they soon realised you weren't a threat and never caused any trouble.

"Quite a lot of chocolate today (v/n)." The owner commented politely, knowing exactly what it was for.

"Mhm, everyone deserves a treat now and then - even me." You replied handing over some of the recently attained cash and taking the bag of items. Next you intended to return 'home'.

Unbeknownst to you Robin was tailing you, Damian was undeniably curious about you for some strange reason and had decided to follow you this time. After finding out about part of your childhood he wanted to understand why you did this, he assumed you had a home with an unstable background/parent and provided financial support though soon realised he was somewhat mistaken.

Once you left the store now carrying a bag you made your way to an old apartment building, Damian continued to follow, watching from the building opposite as you entered one of the 4th floor apartments. The area of Gotham was quite run down meaning rent wasn't expensive and you managed to maintain clean, suitable living conditions despite your situation.

"(Y/N) is back!" A young voice yelled, filled with excitement as you strolled through, placing the bag on the table.

Damian was puzzled, a small group of young children raced over to your figure which was soon lost in an array of hugs, one jumped on your back another two hugged your sides while others screamed with enjoyment.

"Yeah yeah, I missed you kids too." You happily greeted, kneeling down causing them to slowly release you.

Robin perched in the darkness now connecting everything together, you pulled down your hood and then removed your bandana, revealing your identity. Damian was stunned, the dim lighting highlighted your features perfectly and the smile you wore made you all the more beautiful.

"What did you bring us this time (y/n)?!" One girl chirped, standing hopefully in front of you.

"Hmm, well I brought some fruit, vegetables, soap, toothpaste..." You playfully listed, though the kids were grateful, they weren't exactly ecstatic to hear about the vegetables.

"And chocolate!" You grinned, excitement lacing your voice - pulling it out of the bag, the children immediately erupted into squeals and cheers taking a bar each.

Robin took this opportunity to slip through the window behind you making his presence known with a cough. You froze for a second, knowing that he probably knew you're identity now and where you lived - still, you recovered and turned around, the kids also taking notice of the unfamiliar company.

"Shit!" A child yelled from behind you, panic evident.

"Jake - language!" You whisper yelled, the children now gathered behind you.

"You're in a lot of trouble (v/n)." Robin sternly stated.

To your surprise a young girl quickly stepped in front of you spreading out her arms as a guard.

"No Robin! You can't take her away, I know she's bad sometimes but she only does it for us. Please don't take her to prison!" The girl pleaded, tears welling in her eyes.

Next was the boy, Jake, who ran to your side (chocolate long forgotten) and grabbed your arm.

"She isn't a hero like you or - or Batman but she's not a bad guy!" He claimed, also jumping to your defence.

"Yes! (V/N) is our hero, (y/n) protects us like you protect other people s-so there!" Another girl argued from behind you.

You and Robin were both shocked at the children's reactions, you found it heartwarming that they were defending you before one of their biggest heroes yet weren’t sure if their testimony’s would’ve be valid enough.

"I'm not taking (y/n) to prison." Robin boredly sighed, though he probably should - but you hadn't committed crimes at the same severity as the Penguin and you had legit reasons, so he took the opportunity to persuade you to take a more legal route.

Upon hearing Robin's assurance, the children calmed themselves dissipating into the apartment, finding suitable places to watch the scene unfold. You crossed your arms leaning on a nearby counter and looked to Robin expectantly - not having anything to say yourself.

"This is why you do it then?" He inquired, but it came off as more of a statement.

You nodded, observing the 3 children sitting on the couch while others scattered through the apartment.

"I try to take care of them when they need me, I'm pretty sure they live on the streets so I provide for them the best I can when they come to stay. But when they do, I need extra cash - with studying and my job I can just afford rent and the basics for myself. I steal so they don't have to, I want them to grow up 'good' I suppose." Robin listened carefully as he too looked at the children.

Silence.

"So... There you have it bird boy, I grew up on the streets but want them to have a better life than I had. The end." You calmly explained, your tone getting more defensive as you went on.

"You're not what I expected." Robin admitted confidently.

"Oh really? And what did you expect?" You countered, smiling with a challenging hint to your voice.

"It doesn't matter. I think you could be of assistance to me, obtain information and getting into secured areas etc. In exchange I can offer my assistance." The sidekick clearly proposed, observing the consideration dashing across your features.

"...Maybe.”

.

Within the next few weeks that's how it happened, you would assist Robin on select cases and in return he'd bring over extra supplies for any kids that decided to visit. Today was one of those days, you came in from work to find the children swarming around Robin who probably had to leave for patrol. Upon seeing you they rushed over with hugs and "Welcome home!"s before returning to their activities.

"What did you bring them this time Robin?" You curiously greeted, he threw the bag over to you which was effortlessly caught, after looking inside you nodded and placed it on the counter.

Out of gratitude, you made way to Robin and gave him a hug to display such thankfulness as you felt words weren’t quite enough this time.

"Thanks for everything bird boy." You added and pulled away from him.

"You're welcome?" Robin replied, still bewildered due to the sudden contact that it sounded as though he was questioning himself.

"So are you boyfriend and girlfriend now?" One of the girls mischievously inquired appearing out of nowhere.

"Uh - n-no. No." You briskly stuttered knowing you were blushing and attempted to conceal it to the best of your ability.

"(Y/N) is very beautiful but we are not dating." Robin answered in a much less embarrassing manner compared to you. You flushed deeper upon hearing the compliment, of course the sidekick quickly noticed your behaviour causing a smirk to appear.

Robin headed toward the window to leave for his previously mentioned patrol, though the young girl followed him and gently tugged on his cape gaining his attention.

She moved her hand to the side of her mouth so only Robin could hear her whisper "I think you should ask her out!"

"TT, I will." He assured her before disappearing into the night, finding that he’d have to learn to expect the unexpected when it came to your mismatched adopted family.

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #dc #dc imagine #robin #robin imagine #robin x reader

[the-fixation-zone]

and here it is...chapter 2 of The Boys Crack Open a Cold One, the fic I’m writing with @queenspinoodle​! art by my co-writer will be included in this one, as it was in the last. comments appreciated :)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The next day, Zucchini is inscribing fresh runes on his hands when Sock enters his tent.

“Knock, knock!” Sock says cheerfully. Zucchini grunts back. “Not a morning person, huh? Well, luckily for you it’s just past noon. Busy?”

“Little bit,” Zucchini says, finishing up the rune over his left hand. The last part’s always the trickiest, and he needs his full concentration. Almost got it…

“I think we should get to know each other a little better.”

Shit! Sock’s statement surprised Zucchini enough that his brush slid sideways, ruining the entire picture. He sighs, getting up to wash the ink off his hands. He’ll have to try again later. 

“Yeah? What makes you say that?”

“Well, we’ll be working together, right? So we probably shouldn’t be at each other’s throats in front of a bad guy. It’s not a good look.”

Zucchini hums, dipping his hands in the cool water of the basin in the corner of his room. “Sure, makes sense. What did you have in mind?”

What Sock had in mind was a trip into town. Sock loves the circus and the people in it, but he loves being out and about more. The sights and smells of the city always warm his heart. A glance over at Zucchini and he quickly realizes that this is not a universal feeling.  His companion has a wary look in his eyes, as if he’s expecting to be robbed at any moment. Zucchini walks stiffly, careful not to touch anyone he passes. Sock tries his best not to roll his eyes. They walk in silence and, after a few minutes, the silence turns...awkward. Sock twiddles his thumbs, suddenly unsure what to do with his arms. 

Zucchini, feeling the change, grows more uncomfortable. It’s not his fault he doesn’t get out much! It’s just easier to stay home reading or practicing his rune work. And, besides, it’s not like he has any friends he’d go into town with. Sock is the popular one. The longer they walk, the more both men feel as though going out may have been a mistake. However, still determined to salvage this outing, Sock finally speaks.

"Um, so do you like… food?" Not the most original conversation starter, but anything is better than the vacuum they’re traveling in.

Zucchini seems to agree. “Yeah! Uh, I mean yes, I like food. I’ll eat anything. Well, not anything with coconut. Or too much sugar. But, yeah, I, uh, eat.” 

"Oh. Do you want to get food?" 

“Sure, that sounds good. Do you have somewhere in mind?” 

Sock, not expecting to get this far, immediately blanks on every place he’s ever eaten. Food? What is food? 

“Uh, Sock? Earth to Sock, you good?”

Sock quickly looks around and notices a vendor selling kabobs. "How about kabobs?" He smiles and tries to seem like he knows what he's doing. He thinks he does pretty good.

“A kabob would be nice, yeah. Which one should I get? I don’t think I’ve had one before.” 

He's never had a kabob? Does this guy do anything outside of practice? Sock gives him a weird look out of the side of his eye and says, "I think the beef ones are the best."

Zucchini doesn’t notice, already walking towards the vendor. “I’ll take your word for it.” To the vendor he says, “One beef kabob, please.” Then he turns back to Sock. “And you? What’ll you have?”

"I'll take a beef one, too." He takes his from the vendor and searches his pockets for enough change to pay for both. Surprised, Zucchini gives Sock a grateful smile. Sock shrugs, the vendor thanks them, and they head off again.

Zucchini takes a bite of his kabob and finds it’s pretty good. Not what he expected, but nice. He realizes Sock made the last attempt at conversation and decides the ball’s in his court. “So…” Zucchini starts, “how did you get into trapeze work?”

Sock pulls a piece of meat off his kabob with his teeth, chewing for a bit as he thinks of his answer. "I learned many of the basics at a young age while being taught to hunt. It wasn't that hard to put it all together for the trapeze." He remembers times when he was learning to hunt, climbing trees to get a vantage point with his father behind him, whispering guidance. It was a happy memory, once.  "Sometimes the best way to catch an animal is to hide where it least expects you. Usually that’s up a tree. What about you?" 

“Well, back when I was living with my dad, I used to like to get away. More like escape, if I’m being honest.” He gives a little laugh. It doesn’t sound happy. “I’d go up to the roof just to be alone and I realized if I crawled across clotheslines, I could get to the roof next door. It was terrifying at first but, like, kind of liberating? I could go anywhere on those clotheslines and no one could stop me. The juggling was different, though. My mom and I used to play catch with things in the kitchen, eggs, butter, just to have some fun while we were cooking together. I liked to show off for her, show her how many things I could catch at once. It sort of spiraled from there.” He smiles thinking about it. “Kind of silly, huh?”

"Nah, it's neat. When did you learn fire manipulation?"

“Oh. You could say it’s a... family tradition. My dad’s really good and he taught me.” Zucchini’s tone turns unquestionably sour.

Sock picks up on the mood change and decides to drop the topic. He looks around for something new to talk about when he notices they're passing by a street lined with clothing stores. He loves shopping for clothes and other material things, though he'd rarely admit it. It isn’t the most masculine thing to be into, and he doesn’t want to face any more ridicule than he has in the past. Besides, he’s already spent most of his money on those kabobs. He does slow down a bit to see if Zucchini is interested, though.

Zucchini notices Sock slowing down and turns to look down the street. “Oh, hey, you wanna go clothes shopping? I think I need some new outfits for my act. And…” he looks around subtly, “maybe we can think about costumes? You know, for crime fighting?”

"Oh, sure! Right, right, costumes." Sock heads to the first shop that doesn’t seem overly feminine.

Zucchini follows him in, looking around. “So, uh, weapons shop huh? Not exactly what I had in mind, but I guess we need something other than nets, don’t we?”

"Yeah, uh, we don't know what kind of people are out there, you know? Gotta keep ourselves safe."

“Right, right,” Zucchini replies, nodding.

Sock examines the various types of weapons they have. He used to have weapons of his own, but he had sold them a few years ago to afford food for himself and his sister. Now that they're in the circus, they no longer need to worry about their next meal. Not that that stopped him. 

Trying to shake the memory, Sock wanders the store. They have many large weapons, like axes and swords and maces, but Sock isn't a big fan of heavy weaponry, nor is he trained to use them. They do have a decent selection of knives and daggers, though. He gravitates towards them, thinking of the knife he has already. It’s old and in bad shape. Really, it’s a wonder it had even cut through that rope the night before.

Zucchini wanders around as well, thinking about what weapon he might like to use. He’d learned sword fighting when he was a kid, but it’s been a while since he’s touched one. Looking around, he finds a pair of swords that look exactly like the ones his dad had in the house. He walks over, staring at them but not picking them up. As he views them, the shopkeeper comes by.

“Ah, I see we have a gentleman with discerning taste! These are my finest swords, handcrafted by the famous Yoshi Hoshi two years ago. Visitors come by often to admire them, but it seems few people have the skill to use them properly!”

“Huh. They do look nice.”

The shopkeeper gives him a conspiratorial look. “Would you like to try them?”

“Oh! I, uh, I couldn’t, I’m just--”

“Go on! No harm in holding them, young man, go right ahead!” The shopkeeper gives him a hearty slap on the back, causing Zucchini to stagger. He quickly rights his balance, hoping he wasn’t too obvious. He takes another moment to look at the swords before he brings them down from their mount.

As soon as they’re in his hands, he knows these are the ones. He holds them together then separates them, taking a step back before giving them each a swing. Marvelous. They fit in his hands like they were meant for him, and the weight of each is perfect. He can feel the shopkeeper’s excitement next to him and is regretful when he puts them back. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t pay for them right now...but I’ll be back. I’ll definitely be back.” Zucchini walks over to where Sock is, his mind still on the swords. “Any luck? Or should we move on?” 

Sock really wants to get at least one of the knives, but after buying the kabobs he only has a few copper pieces left. Too embarrassed to tell Zucchini that, he says, "they have a lot out of stock right now. Maybe I'll check back later."

“Alright. When you come back, I’ll join you. Let’s look for some costumes for now.” Zucchini walks out of the shop and looks around for a clothes vendor. Seeing something suitable, he walks in, Sock following right behind him. 

The moment Sock walks in, he’s overwhelmed by the store’s selection of clothes from all over. Before he can get carried away, he reminds himself that he's only here to find an outfit to fight in. Hopefully a cheap one. He browses the racks, finding many dark clothing articles, perfect for sneaking around at night. He picks some at random, pulling out a black sleeveless shirt and a pair of fairly loose pants. They are low quality and flimsily made, but they’re extremely cheap and he can easily mend the seams back at his tent. 

Zucchini isn’t sure what he wants yet, so he looks around waiting for something to jump out at him. He touches the fabric, thinking about what might feel good when running around after criminals (or, possibly, saving people at the 11th hour…). Finally, he finds a turtleneck in black and some lightweight cotton pants that look like they’d just about fit. “Hey, Sock? Should we get something to cover our faces, too?”

Sock thinks about that for a moment. "I think I already have something we can use."

“You do?” Zucchini is surprised, but not that surprised. He’s always pegged Sock as a theatrical person.

The shopkeeper, who is hovering nearby to assist, starts giving them weird looks. Sock notices and makes a face at Zucchini. "I'll show you when we get back." He approaches the shopkeeper with a smile, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“Oh, right. Got it.” Zucchini follows Sock to pay for his choices as well.

After paying, Sock leaves the store feeling good about having something to fight in other than civilian clothes or circus garb. He has a pair of boots at home he can wear with his new outfit, and a few masks stashed under his cot to hide their identities. It may not be the best costume, but he figures it’s alright for just starting out. 

Zucchini is also pleased with what he bought but isn’t quite ready to go home. “So, uh. You wanna look around some more? We don’t have to buy anything but, well, the day’s still young, right?” 

"Uh, yeah, sure." Sock starts off in the direction of the next store when something catches his eye. Plastered to the wall of one of the shops is a picture. He peels it off the wall to read it.

“Whatcha got there?” Zucchini asks, trying to look over Socks’ shoulder

Sock grins. "Wanted poster. Looks like we've found our first job."

#chapter 2 y'all #hereee weee gooo #zuko #sokka #crack fic #fanfic #zukka #eventually probably who knows #can zukka not be to life long friends fighting crime together? enquiring minds want to know #fix writes with friends #atla au #zukka au #art #fanart

[lalainajanes]

I teased this one ages ago! Sorry, rl got in the way! Do me a favor and cross your fingers that my bosses agree to start letting ups work from home a couple days a week next year bc that will make my life waaaayyy easier.

You’re Better Than Normal (Part Two) 

Part One

Caroline shifts from sleep to wakefulness violently, with a jerk and a gasp. She can’t trust the fuzzy place between the two.

She’s yet to manage a decent stretch of rest. She dreams of walls that shift closer and closer no matter how hard she tries to force them back. Of Bonnie fading and weakening when no rescue comes. Of Bonnie hanging in there until Caroline gets so thirsty.

Those are the worst.

She fights her way out of the nightmares and her body reacts accordingly. Each time she wakes she’s rigid, ready to use every ounce of her strength to get free.

Klaus is always there to remind her that she is.

This time her palms slam into his chest when she tries to spring to her feet. She snaps into lucidity when his body gives in a way the ground wouldn’t. He inhales sharply but makes no other noise of shock or pain, just grabs her wrists firmly. “Caroline, wake up.”

Caroline’s eyes pop open, only to close quickly when the light stings. She relaxes as the memories – of the last few hours, of yesterday - flood her. She inhales deeply in relief before she slumps back down. There’s a lamp on the bedside table, the shade off so it’s as bright as possible. “Ouch,” she grumbles, tucking her forehead against Klaus’ chest.

He laughs and his hands glide up her arms, his thumbs rubbing circles against her stiff shoulders. “You seemed not to appreciate the lack of light the last, oh, half-dozen times you woke.”

She’d been so sure she was back in the cave when she’d found herself in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unbroken darkness. Her throat had tightened, her breathing growing ragged and painful. Klaus had asked what was wrong and parsed the issue from her frantic gestures and garbled words.

He’d left the bed long enough to solve the problem, had brushed off her weak protests that he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He’d said he’s gone weeks without sleeping while on the run, without slowing or resting, so he wouldn’t even notice a few nights spent awake in the comfort of a bed.

When it had been silence that made her uneasy, he’d talked. About what Caroline’s not quite sure because the words had mattered less than his voice.

She’d grown used to noise while she slept in various hostels and hotels in Europe. People shifting across the room or through too thin walls, city noise streaming in through open windows. Birds chirping and trees rustling the few times they’d ventured somewhere more rustic.

The cave had been quiet.

“Sorry,” Caroline says, not for the first time. “For, well, you know.”

Keeping him up, invading his bed, being so freaking needy. It’s an ever-lengthening list.

She bites back a moan when he digs into a particularly tight knot near her spine. “Stop apologizing,” Klaus chides.

Again.

The first ‘I’m sorry’ she’d muttered had been mortified. They’d moved to a bed but she hadn’t allowed Klaus even a fraction of an inch of personal space. Each time she barrels into alertness she’s half on top of him. Her hands are always on his skin, gripping too tightly.

He’s yet to complain.

She sighs, turns her head to rest her ear against his heart. “It must be almost morning.”

“Nearly.” He doesn’t seem particularly eager to start his day.

“Bonnie’s still asleep?”

“Yes. We’ll know when she stirs,” Klaus promises. Elijah’s with her, he’d explained. That there were plenty of other vampires he could have posted but Elijah had offered, reasoning it was best that someone familiar attend to Bon.

“How long has it been now?”

“About fourteen hours.”

So an hour longer than when she’d last asked. She’s kind of impressed that Klaus doesn’t sound more annoyed. “I’m…”

This time Klaus doesn’t allow the apology. “Worried about your oldest friend, I know. If she’s not up in another few hours I’ll send someone to fetch a doctor.”

“Have house calls made a comeback in the twenty…” Caroline pauses abruptly, lets the joke die. She doesn’t even know what century it is.

“Second,” Klaus tells her softly, his palm flattening on her back like he’s braced for her to rear away.

Caroline doesn’t move much, lets the news sink in. Honestly, she’s kind of relieved. She’s had no real way to guess – Klaus and his siblings will look the same if a hundred or a thousand years had passed. “Are we talking early twenty-second century?”

Hey, she’s always been an optimist.

“Mid,” Klaus says, a touch regretfully. “Just on the cusp of late, mathematically speaking.”

That startles a choked noise of amusement from Caroline. She taps his chest lightly, “Nerd.”

Klaus doesn’t react much to the teasing but then he’s definitely been called worse. “Do you want a specific date? Or would you prefer to ease into it a bit?”

Caroline takes a deep breath, then another. She’d told herself she’d face her problems head on in the morning. It’s time to stop procrastinating. “No, let’s get it over with. How long did I spend molding in a cave, Klaus?”

She shivers involuntarily, remembering just how long it had taken for the water in the shower to run clean.

His hand starts to move, gliding up and down the length of her back. It’s an attempt at comfort that she wouldn’t have thought Klaus capable of, once upon a time. “One hundred and forty-seven years.”

She’s always been a fan of numbers. In goals that could be measured. Timelines. When Klaus gives her the number – the length of time she’s been gone – her brain whirls, trying to quantify it.

One hundred and forty-seven years equals two human lifetimes, almost. It’s roughly ten percent of Klaus’ very long life. Almost eight times as many years as she’d lived. Caroline can’t decide whether she should laugh or cry or scream.

“And a few months, I believe,” Klaus adds softly.

A few months doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things but Caroline does appreciate precision. It had been the very beginning of spring when they’d returned to Mystic Falls. After a winter in Greece neither she nor Bonnie had been happy to find their hometown chilly and damp. “What’s the date?”

“September 30th. Twenty-one-sixty-four.”

“Huh. Just in time for my…” Caroline thinks for a minute, “…172nd birthday.” She’s technically older than Stefan had been when they’d met. Damon too, she’s pretty sure.

“I know,” Klaus murmurs. “I’ll have to scrounge you up a gift.”

Caroline lifts her head, glad he’s given her an opening to quit obsessing over a length of time she truly can’t even fathom. She glares at him playfully, “You’ll scrounge? You, a birthday enthusiast, will scrounge for a gift for the first birthday I’ve been aware of in a century and a half?”

He smiles at her and shifts so he’s propped against the bed’s padded headboard, easily moving Caroline with him. She stretches out her legs, wonders if she should move. Discards the idea when Klaus’ fingers sink into her hair. He matches her feigned outrage with a taunt, “I know you love surprises so I wouldn’t want to spoil anything. I may have a suitable item or two laying around.”

Hmm. Would it be rude to snoop? Probably. Is she going to do it anyway? Of course. Hopefully cake is still a thing in the twenty-second century.

“I hate surprises.”

She feels his amusement this time, rumbling through his chest under her head. “I’m well aware, love.” Klaus rubs at the base of her skull and Caroline finds her eyes drooping, unable to form a clever comeback. She knows she won’t sleep properly but a few more minutes of rest might be a good idea.

She wants to be sharp when Klaus’ guests arrive.

* * * * *

Caroline paces, waiting for Bonnie to wake. It's been at nearly eighteen hours and Caroline’s worry is mounting. Bonnie seems okay – she’s not too hot or too cold, doesn’t look like she’s in any pain or distress. She looks like she’s just sleeping well.

Kol’s insisting that’s exactly what’s happening, that it’s normal for witches to need to rest after big spells to recharge. He’s made the proclamation at breakfast, while double fisting blood and bourbon, in the most man-splain-y way possible, and Caroline’s temper had flared.

"Bonnie is not a freaking battery!" She’d snapped, her hands hitting the table hard enough to send cutlery rattling. Kol had leaned forward, his lips twisted condescendingly. Whatever he’d been about to say had been cut off by the warning look Klaus had leveled his way. It had promised retribution and so Kol had refrained from snapping back.

Or snapping Caroline’s neck.

She'd left the breakfast table (and it's weird, unidentifiable, array of food-like things) in a huff. After a few wrong turns she’d found her way to the room they'd deposited Bonnie in last night. She'd been soothed by Bonnie's strong heartbeat, by the steady rhythm of her breaths. She'd relaxed enough to accept the glass of blood Rebekah had dropped off, had even remembered her manners and muttered a thanks.

Rebekah had left quickly, telling Caroline to yell if she was too dim to remember how to work the shower, leaving the door ajar.

She'd downed the blood quickly and rinsed the glass (managing just fine, Rebekah). Bonnie’s a little uneasy about the whole blood drinking vampire thing. Better than she had been but, when they’d been travelling together, Caroline had gotten into the habit of hiding her meals as much as possible.

Unable to sit still any longer, nervous energy thrumming through her body, she'd started to move.

It takes fourteen strides, from wall to wall, and she's never been more grateful for Klaus' penchant for opulence. She's making lists in her head. There’s so much she’ll need to know, a million things she'll have to do. Like, how's she going to go about getting a driver's license? Do people still have those? Or is there a retinal scan, or some creepy microchip implanted in your body? Caroline had never been much for sci fi movies, something she deeply regrets now that her life has become one.

She's got her ears focused on Bonnie, however, recognizes the little annoyed noise Bonnie always makes when she's about to wake up. Caroline's in the chair beside the bed in under a second, legs pulled up under her, trying to look casual and like she's not freaking out.

The attempt is pointless, Bonnie's known her forever, and it only takes a second before her green eyes sharpen and focus on Caroline. "How bad is it?" Bonnie asks, resigned because she’s way too accustomed to doom and gloom.

They’d been doing so well on their own. They’d been away for months without even the tiniest threat of danger.

Caroline chews on the inside of her lip for a second, considering how to answer. She can't lie, won't lie, but a little stalling might be a kindness. Just until Bonnie has a chance to shower and eat. "Honestly? It's not great, Bon. But we're alive. We’ve got… help.” She’d almost said friends but that would have been pushing it.

Bonnie closes her eyes again, “This bed is an improvement over the cave.”

“That’s the spirit. I felt a bajillion times better after a shower.”

When Bonnie sits up and kicks the blankets aside, the sheets are no longer white. She makes a disgusted face at the grit and grime covering her body, "Gross. I can't believe I fell asleep like this."

"You were right out," Caroline tells her. "Rebekah tucked you in and you didn't even notice."

"Weird. I wish you hadn't told me that."

Caroline cracks a smile at the mildly disgusted look Bonnie wears, "Don't worry. I have it on good authority that Nice Rebekah will be a fleeting presence. We'll probably miss her once Bitch Rebekah rears her ugly head."

"I heard that!" Rebekah bellows from several rooms away.

Caroline looks away, from Bonnie. She'll start giggling if she doesn't and that will likely not endear either of them to Rebekah.

Caroline’s stronger than she had been but Damon will be too. If things get violent, well, she wants all The Originals on her side.

Once she's swallowed down her laughter she stands, brushing her hands together, "You'll have to bear with me. Everything in the bathroom is crazy fancy and I've only been in it once. I'm pretty sure there's no boil humans alive setting though."

"Are you sure?" Bonnie asks dryly. "You're aware of just who lives here? Might be something they do for fun."

Klaus, with his impeccable timing, chooses that moment to poke his head in the door, "Now why would we overcook a perfectly good meal?"

Bonnie glares, dark and deadly, and Caroline hastily steps into her line of sight, in case she starts throwing magic around. "He's joking, Bon. Klaus just doesn't realize that he's not actually funny."

She shoots him her own quelling look, more exasperated than upset, and he merely smirks back, leaning against the open doorway. "Nonsense, my sense of humor is delightful, everyone says so."

"People you're attempting to kill, I'm guessing? I think that counts as duress and you should assume they're lying."

Klaus places a hand over his heart, his face dropping into an exaggeratedly wounded expression. Caroline rolls her eyes, "Did you need something?"

He turns serious in an instant, "Yes, actually. Our guests will be arriving within the hour." Klaus' eyes flit over to Bonnie, and Caroline glances over to find her friend looking puzzled at Klaus' words. She’s not going to start explaining with Klaus in the room. There are things Bonnie needs to hear from Caroline. Privately. "I'll let you know when I'm ready to see them," she says.

He nods in acceptance, rocks back a step, before turning to leave. A thought occurs to Caroline, one she's kind of ashamed is just now popping up. "One sec, Bon," she says, before darting out the room after Klaus. He turns, a brow raised, and she invades his personal space to speak quietly.

It’s weird she even notices considering how she’d spent last night draped all over him.

"Bonnie's mom was a vampire. Can you find out what happened to her? If she's still around?"

"I can," Klaus says. "I even have a reasonably good idea of where to start looking."

"Good. Thank you. Can you let Enzo know what I'm doing? I'll find him as soon as I can."

"And our other guests?" Klaus asks mildly. "Any specifications for how I treat them?"

She knows what he's asking, wonders what it says about her that her first instinct is to ask for a little bloodshed, Damon's in particular. "Are their memories still gone?"

"Yes. It was a clever spell. Your little witch friend is the only person who can break it."

Caroline's not surprised. Of course Damon would craft the tiniest loophole possible. "Then I think they should be comfortable."

“Such generosity.”

“Comfortable for now.” Until their memories have returned, and they’ve confessed to the exact series of events that had led to Caroline and Bonnie losing so many years.

Klaus' eyes gleam, a slow, pleased smile tugging at his lips, "I’ve always enjoyed the way your mind works."

She remembers, had always found it flattering, his intrigue with her brain when so many had only seen a pretty face or attractive body. What does it mean that it's endured?

Klaus tips his head, gestures to the room behind her, "You'd best return, it sounds like someone's getting impatient."

She can hear Bonnie moving around, now that he mentions it, "Right. I should," Still Caroline hesitates. She wants to say thank you, again, but she feels like she's already said it so many times. Knows she'll probably need to say it more, over the coming days and weeks.

"I'll send someone with a tray of food, in a bit. And you may find me, if you need anything."

"Klaus…" Caroline murmurs, trailing off helplessly. She can't find the words but she's always been good at actions. Before she can second guess herself, she puts her hand on his shoulder, rises and brushes her lips over his cheek. He stiffens, and his eyes are slightly wider when she pulls back, trained on her face. She feels a momentary surge of satisfaction at having caught him off guard.

Surely not many can claim the same.

Caroline lets her hand slide down his arm, before she steps back. Throws him on last smile, before she turns on her heel.

Klaus, and all the things between them, will keep. He's proven that. Right now, Bonnie needs her more.

* * * * *

“What? That’s insane. Impossible. She can’t be a vampire. She took the cure. Katherine tried to turn back, remember?”

Bonnie’s restless, crackling with energy. She’s pacing the room, just as Caroline had earlier. They’ve thrown all the curtains in but there’s not a whole lot of natural light to be found. Clouds pack the sky, sitting low and heavy, like a storm threatens. They hadn’t been able to figure out how to open the windows but at least the room is big and well lit.

They’re avoiding the view. Caroline vaguely recognizes the back grounds of Klaus’ Mystic Falls home but it looks way different. Once carefully manicured it’s now little more than a few scraggly patches of brown-yellow grass dotted over rocks and cracked soil. The outbuildings are crumbling and weather beaten and the stone paths that had once wound around the house no longer visible.

Caroline’s doing her best to project calm. So not her forte but she’s had a good chunk of time to process. Someone to lean on (in the most literal sense of the word) and answer her questions. “Bon, you’re a witch. Once upon a time we thought that was impossible.”

Bonnie’s head swivels to shoot Caroline an annoyed look. Caroline’s sitting cross legged at the end of the bed and she tips her head to the side and maintains eye contact until Bonnie huffs out an irritated sigh and resumes walking. “Fine, I will give you that one.”

“Why thank you.”

“She wouldn’t though. Elena never wanted to be a vampire.”

That’s kind of a sticking point for Caroline too. Klaus hadn’t known how or why Elena had turned but he’d had theories. Caroline goes with the most generous, “Maybe it was life or death again. She chose to be a vampire rather than die the first time. If she had to choose again...”

“She wouldn’t sacrifice us though. That’s not Elena.”

Caroline’s not so sure.

Elena had chosen sleep knowing that the future she wanted was on pause. That Damon would be waiting for her, and Stefan would remain unchanged. That she could have everything her little heart desired when she woke up and that she wouldn’t even suffer the agony of waiting. If something threatened that future? Caroline doesn’t trust that Elena’s selflessness would have held.

She’d let go of the things Elena had said and done with her humanity off, had known that holding on to her anger was pointless when Elena hadn’t even been willing to entertain the idea of an apology. She’d rationalized that it wasn’t really Elena. Then she’d flipped her own switch and she’d been entirely herself. The worst parts of herself that she’d tried to temper, yes, but she’s not going to deny they exist. She’s ruthless and blunt, and capable of terrible things in pursuit of her goals.

Some might label those traits as flaws but privately Caroline thinks they can be strengths too.

Elena had always been selective about the flaws she was willing to overlook, a teeny bit in denial about the ones she possessed.

Damon and Stefan were gifted limitless chances. Other people not so much.

Sometime after Damon and Stefan had shown up Elena’s universe had narrowed. Caroline had been aware of just who existed at the center of it. If Damon was the sun and Stefan the moon, destined to be stuck to Elena’s side, Caroline had figured she and Bonnie were planets. Their orbits would grow bigger, away from Mystic Falls, but that they’d still be important. They’d keep track of each other, share milestones, celebrate success and band together in tragedy.

That may have been too rosy a view. Maybe, to Elena, she’s Pluto. Easily demoted.

“She’s here, according to Klaus. Damon and Stefan too. That wouldn’t be possible if she hadn’t turned.”

Bonnie pauses, her head snapping up and her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Are they the guests Klaus was talking about? He sounded extra smarmy.”

“Yup. Their memories are all messed up. Klaus thinks you’re the only witch on the planet with a fix.”

“Klaus thinks,” Bonnie repeats and there’s a whole heap of distaste in those two little words.

Oh boy.

“I know you don’t like him,” Caroline begins.

“That’s understating it a bit.”

Caroline decides it’s prudent to ignore the interruption. “Or trust him. And you don’t have to. But maybe give him some credit for springing us yesterday.” Caroline’s not sure she would have been able to do it on her own. She’s definitely sure that she wouldn’t have been fast enough for Bonnie to make it out with no ill effects.

“Yeah, about that. He says it’s been a hundred and forty seven years, how did he happen to show up in the exact right place at the exact right time?”

Caroline had really been hoping to avoid that question.

But she’s not going to lie. Or even sugar coat. She and Bonnie need to be a united front.

“Klaus has been… searching for descendants of the witch who sealed us in.”

“And?” Bonnie prompts because she really knows Caroline too well.

“And killing them. If they proved unable to help.” She’s not well versed in the intricacies of magic. Only knows that there’s usually a whole heap of terms and conditions. Klaus had explained, sometime last night, when Caroline had been failing at sleep, that the original witch had anchored the spell to her line. That Damon had compelled her very human husband as a means of making her cooperate. She’d refused to lift it no matter what Klaus had offered or threatened.

Damon had, apparently, used every ounce of self-serving cunning and self-preserving intelligence he’d possessed. Without any memory of the undoubtedly heinous orders he’d given the witch’s husband, Damon couldn’t be forced to undo his compulsion. The spell to seal his memories away had involved Bonnie’s blood and the spell to return them required the same ingredients.

And Bonnie was trapped, her blood well out of reach.

Klaus had seethed with frustration as he’d explained, his body a solid mass of tension where they’d been pressed together. His hands had remained gentle, however, his fingers in her hair soothing.

Caroline still wears his scent on her skin and she’s glad Bonnie’s human senses can’t detect it.

“How many?” Bonnie demands.

“You know, I didn’t ask,” Caroline replies, and that’s not a lie. She hadn’t wanted a count for this very reason.

Bonnie rolls her shoulders, a hand coming up to rub at the back of her neck. “I think I need a couple minutes. To make this all make sense. Is that okay?”

Caroline’s already rising and she scoffs, “Of course it’s okay. We’ve dealt with a whole lot of crazy but this is a brand-new level of nuts. You can have all the time you need to process.”

Bonnie smiles. Just a tiny wan quirk of her lips but Caroline will take it. “Thanks, Care.”

“Come downstairs whenever you’re ready. Klaus has been hoarding spell books that might help with the memory thing but honestly, there’s no rush.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Caroline Forbes?”

It’s a terrible joke but Caroline lets that slide. She shrugs, turning when she reaches the door. “It’s not life or death. I’m alive, you’re alive. Everything else we can figure out, right?”

Bon blinks a little, her eyes shining, and Caroline swallows passed a lump in her throat, rushing forward and throwing her arms around Bonnie. She watches her strength, mindful of how much it’s grown, how weak Bonnie had been just yesterday. Bonnie returns the pressure, her breathing shaky, “We’ll figure it out,” Caroline repeats.

This time it’s a promise, one she intends to keep.

* * * * *

Caroline had been on her way back to her room to wash her face and fix her hair. When she’d gotten closer to the staircase she’d heard the voices. They’re too quiet for her to make out the words but one voice is new, just slightly familiar. Her feet take her down the steps quickly, towards an open door.

There’s no real point in cleaning away the evidence of tears. Enzo had always been annoyingly perceptive about her emotional state and, with the events of the last 24 hours, Caroline’s in no position to attempt to act like she’s okay.

Besides, he’s seen her look far worse.

Caroline deeply regrets the hair and leather pants related mistakes she’d made with her humanity off.

She’s not trying to be stealthy and the conversation pauses, a glass hits a table with a clink.

Her hand touches the door and then everything gets blurry. There’s a crash, she feels a whoosh of air, hears a groan and a tear. Caroline shakes her head, blinks, finds herself staring at the back of Klaus’ neck. Enzo’s there too, right in front of Klaus, wide-eyed and unconcerned about the death grip Klaus has on the collar of his jacket.

She’ll chalk that up to his total lack of a survival instinct.

“Manners, Lorenzo,” Klaus warns, mostly friendly but with the tiniest edge of a threat.

Caroline brushes passed Klaus, a laugh bubbling out of her. She plows into Enzo and he grunts but lifts her off her feet in a bone crushing hug. “It has been far too long,” he mutters into her hair.

She returns the embrace just as fiercely, “Doesn’t feel that long for me but I have missed you.” Enzo sets her down and Caroline notes the room’s other occupant. Kol’s here, slouched on a leather sofa. He lifts his glass in her direction in welcome, Caroline supposes he’s over their breakfast table spat.

“Aren’t you two adorable?” Kol drawls.

Enzo shoots him a casual rude gesture and Klaus laughs softly behind her. His hand presses into her hip briefly, drawing Caroline’s attention. “Drink, love?” he murmurs.

She’s hopeful the booze is less terrible than the food. “Yes, please.”

He makes his way to a cart across the room. It holds glasses, several crystal decanters, Klaus pops the top on one and pours a more than healthy portion. Caroline drops down into an armchair, curls her legs under her. Enzo pats her head and she swats at him but he’s still much faster than her, dodging easily as he throws himself down next to Kol.

And props his feet on the coffee table. Caroline glares a little but he grins at her, unrepentant. Caroline half expects Klaus to comment but he doesn’t seem bothered, leans against the arm of her chair after handing her a glass.

“How’s the little witch?” Kol asks, as if he’s genuinely interested.

“Fully recharged,” Caroline tells him. “She wanted a little time alone to process but she’ll be down later.”

“Have you told her…” Klaus lets the sentence hang.

“Everything I know, she knows.” Caroline twists her head to study Klaus’ reaction, searching for a hint of displeasure of disapproval.

Klaus only nods, “Did you discuss what we’d like done with our other guests?”

“Not really.” She and Bonnie had only decided that the first order of business would be to figure out how to restore the memories that Elena and the Salvatores apparently lacked. “I’d like for them to be kept comfortable. Until we can make them remember.”

AKA warm and fed with all their organs and extremities intact.

She watches Kol as she says it. Klaus had already agreed but she remembers Kol being volatile, fond of bats and not a big fan of Damon.

He moans in exaggerated disappointment, his head rolling back against the couch, his expression growing petulant. “You, darling, are a bit of a fun killer, aren’t you?”

“Elijah’s settling them,” Klaus tells her, ignoring his brother’s complaint. “In separate, well stocked rooms.”

“Cells, technically,” Enzo pipes up.

Kol cheers up a bit, “Well, at least that’s a little bit of torture. As clingy and nauseating at their little triangle is.”

“Did Elena go back to Stefan?”

“Back and forth. Back and forth,” Enzo drawls. “For ages.”

“Took her far too long to work out that she didn’t have to,” Kol adds. “Imagine, being a hundred years old and only just realizing you’ve options other than monogamy?”

Unfortunately, Caroline had just taken a sip of her drink. She chokes on it and her throat burns. Her eyes water and she coughs while Klaus pats her on the back. He sounds distinctly amused when he speaks, “She insisted on living with humans. Got a little caught up in the norms.”

“This is really too much information,” Caroline manages, her voice weak. She’s also seriously regretting her honesty is the best policy vow. This is not gossip she wants to have to relay to Bonnie.

“Jealous? You’d developed a bit of a thing for Stefan, hadn’t you?”

Ugh. Had it just been a few minutes ago that she’d been elated to see Enzo?

Klaus straightens next to her, putting more distance between their bodies and lifting his hand away. This time, Caroline does not check his reaction. “I got over that pretty quickly, thank you very much.”

“Oh?” Enzo asks, like he doesn’t believe her.

Caroline takes another sip of her drink, this time welcoming the fire when she swallows. “I wasn’t good with change. With everything that happened with my mom…” Caroline hadn’t been ready to lose her mother. She’d had plans – she’d wanted to graduate college and get a job, to make her mom proud while she could, knowing that by the time she hit thirty-five or so she wouldn’t be able to show her face in Mystic Falls without whispers starting.

With her mother’s death Caroline’s reasons for playing at being human evaporated. She’d taken a leap, dropped out of college, and bought a plane ticket. Had quickly realized that there were plenty of new experiences worth having.

“Stefan was familiar,” Caroline says, keeping it simple because Kol really doesn’t need to know her personal business, outdated though it is. “After I left I found I didn’t actually need familiar.”

“I could have told you that.”

She makes a face, barely resists the urge to stick out her tongue. Enzo’s not the least bit chastised. His boots squeak against the polished coffee table as he gets comfortable. “Tell me, Gorgeous, what’s the plan then? We just wait?”

She’s about to snap an apology for inconveniencing him but Klaus speaks first, “It shouldn’t be too long. I believe we have the spell, the wi…” Caroline sees him glance at her when he pauses. He smiles at her, all warmth and dimples, and corrects himself. “Bonnie just has to look it over. It’ll take a few days to track down the necessary ingredients but she likely shouldn’t be spilling blood immediately, given her condition.”

“Is my usual room ready?” Enzo asks.

It’s so weird that he has a usual freaking room.

“Of course,” Klaus answers, the tiniest hint of offense making the words come out clipped.

Caroline takes another drink. A bigger one. “I’m going to need the full story of how you two became bffs. Like, right now.”

Enzo smirks, his eyes growing gleeful, “It was a rocky road, Gorgeous. There was bloodshed, severed limbs.”

“His,” Klaus mutters darkly.

He doesn’t try to stop the story, however. Only interjects when Enzo begins to embellish and occasionally to supply extra details.

It’s not long until Caroline’s sides hurt from laughing.

For the first time she feels like maybe, somehow, she really will be okay.

* * * * *

It takes a minute for Elena to realize she’s no longer alone. Caroline hadn’t announced herself but she’s kind of surprised Elena’s not more alert. She looks miserable, wrapped in a blanket on the mattress in the corner of the cell. It’s not her only blanket, she’s got a whole pile. Pillows too. It’s only the locked door that makes the room a cell because it’s clean and dry and well lit.

Far nicer than a cave.

The door’s feature small barred cut-outs, high enough that Caroline doesn’t have to duck to look through them.

There are guards behind her, at the bottom of the staircase, but they hadn’t tried to stop or discourage her. Caroline thinks they’re hybrids but she’s not sure how that’s possible. It’s another question to add to her endless list. It’s mental list for now. Klaus had informed her that paper and pens were no longer commonly used. She’d been horrified and he’d smiled, had told he’d sacrifice one of his sketchbooks and some pencils for her until he could track down something suitable.

He’d offered a tablet too but nothing is as satisfying as striking off a task on paper.

Stefan had glanced up as she’d passed his cell. They’d eyed each other for a moment before he’d bowed his head once more.

It had felt like a dismissal and she’d be lying if she claimed it hadn’t annoyed her.

She can hear Damon moving, breathing harshly. Dull thuds that must be him slamming into the walls. Idly, she wonders if putting Elena in the center cell had been purposeful or coincidence. She doesn’t travel beyond Elena’s cell, has no pressing need to check on Damon.

Elena’s still a pretty crier, no snot or splotchy skin, just big fat tears and attractively clumped lashes. Her hair is shorter than Caroline’s ever seen it, resting just at her collarbones but that’s it. Physically, the Elena before her is identical to the Elena she’d always known.

Caroline taps at the door and Elena startles, springing from the bed and pressing her back to the wall. Her face is twisted in anger but confusion takes over when she spots Caroline. “Who are you?” she asks warily.

Well. That’s weird. She’d shared dolls with Elena, games of Candyland. Giggled about crushes and complained about pop quizzes. There’s no hint recognition in Elena’s red-rimmed eyes.  

She takes another step closer, “My name’s Caroline.”

Damon’s stilled and Stefan’s risen. A glance to her left and right shows the they’re peering out at her. Elena can’t see them and she’s waiting, like she expects a longer explanation. “Where’s your boss?” she spits, when Caroline remains quiet.

“I don’t have one of those.” Technically, she’s never had one of those. She’d had ideas about trying her hand at a career or two, hadn’t gotten the chance.

“Klaus,” Stefan cuts in. “Where is Klaus?”

Caroline shrugs, points upwards. He’s somewhere upstairs. Bonnie had emerged from her room, had begun to go through the research Klaus has compiled over the years. He’d excused himself to make a call, had said something about arranging for reinforcements. “I’m not a hybrid. Just a regular ol’ vampire. About the same age as you, actually. And I don’t work for Klaus.”

The noise Elena makes is disbelieving. “Sure you don’t. Why else would you be here? Unless you’re…” she trails off, her eyes flitting over Caroline in a way that’s familiar in it’s silent judgement. Caroline’s sure she’s trying to find a safe euphemism but she apparently fails. “…with him,” Elena finishes.

Caroline keeps her reply simple. She doesn’t owe anyone in this basement an explanation. “He’s helping me with something.”

“Klaus doesn’t help people.”

Technically false. “Really? I thought it was pretty helpful when he offered up a hybrid for you to kill so you didn’t spend a few decades going insane.”

Elena shrinks back, growing fearful once more. “How do you know about that?”

“We used to know each other.” Kind of an understatement but Elena’s not going to believe her anyway.

“We’ve never met.”

“We have,” Caroline counters. “I don’t actually remember when.”

Mystic Falls had been small, and big on community celebrations. She assumes she’d met Elena and Bonnie at one of them, had been plopped in a group with kids her age under the semi-attentive eye of whatever grown up was the most likely to go easy on the spiked punch.

Elena’s watching her with some measure of concern. Caroline can’t blame her. A stranger, talking nonsense, while you’re trapped in a cell is bound to be alarming.

She should probably apologize for the kidnapping thing but she’s not sure if Elena deserves it.

Elena moves forward again, her big brown eyes once again pleading, and her voice turns soft. “Listen, Caroline. If you need help, I’ll help you. We’ll help you if you get us out. But Klaus is… Klaus is bad news, okay? You need to get me out of here. Damon and Stefan too. He’s going to kill us. Torture us.”

A demand, one that’s annoyingly condescending. Not even a request.

“He’s not going to torture you.”

Caroline’s hoping that, whatever went down, Elena had been kept in the dark. Damon and Stefan had tended to get high handed and she thinks it’s plausible that they’d decided on a course of action for Elena, had decided what her best interest was and hadn’t cared about collateral damage.

The door to the next cell rattles and she hears a strangled grunt. Glancing over Caroline sees Damon, his pale blue eyes just as startling as she remembers. He’s livid, his color high and his mouth is ringed with dried blood. He makes more sounds, feral inarticulate noises that don’t resemble actual words.

Elena’s frantic, stretched up on her toes, her head pressed to the bars but there’s no way she can see Damon. She glares at Caroline, “Do you not consider cutting out a tongue torture?”

A throat clears behind her and one of the guard pipes up, “Technically, that was Kol.”

Ah. She should have known. He’d acquiesced so easily.

Caroline wonders if she should be outraged but she finds she can’t muster the energy. ““I mean, it is but it’ll grow back.”

Elena gasps, “That’s not the point.”

“The Damon I remember was really bad at knowing when to shut up.”

Elena recoils, watching Caroline warily now. “And that makes it okay?”

It’s not a debate Caroline’s willing to entertain, especially when there’s no point in reminding Elena what a giant freaking hypocrite she’s being.

Stefan says her name, catching her attention. “Caroline,” he repeats, drawing out the syllables. “Klaus asked us about you. Several times.”

This time the noise Damon makes is a snarl and Caroline figures those were not civilized conversations. “Like I said, he’s been helping me.”

“For a hundred years?”

“More like a hundred and fifty.”

She can still read Stefan. He’s measuring her, trying to figure out how loyal she is to Klaus, if he can use her. He’s going to be disappointed. “An awfully long time,” he finally says, carefully neutral.

Caroline laughs even though none of her present company will get the joke, “Didn’t feel like it.”

She studies each of her old friends in turn. Stefan’s got his brows furrowed in frustration, Damon’s tense like he’s considering going for her throat, thick doors be damned. Elena’s sad and anxious, her knuckles white where they clutch the edge of the window.

Part of her hadn’t understood what it meant that she’d been erased. She’d half expected recognition. That seeing her in the flesh would shake whatever magic that had been weaved loose. She’d hoped for answers. At the very least she’d wanted a target for her anger.

Of course it’s not that simple.

* * * * *

She’d planned to sleep in her own bed.

Had showered, explored the bottles and tubes of sweet-smelling lotions and creams that had appeared in the bathroom adjacent to the room she’d been given. Had used up several hours making notes in the sketchbook Klaus had provided while scouring the internet for answers to some of her more practical questions.

She’s super disappointed that flying cars still haven’t become a common mode of transportation.

When she’d settled under the covers and closed her eyes she’d begun to get anxious. It wasn’t the silence because music hadn’t help. She’d turned on a lamp, just in case it was the dark. She’d grown tense as she’d lain there, struggling to take even inhales and exhales. Had thrown off the blankets once she’d grown hot and sweat slicked.

Her mind had kept returning to waking up alone, in the cave. To the moment when she’d realized she was trapped, when she hadn’t been sure if Bonnie was alive. She’d felt utterly alone and so scared. That same terror creeps into her bones, until she’s shaking and curled into a tight ball, her teeth grinding together.

Maybe she should have stuck it out. She’d known she was safe. That Bonnie was just next door, that it would be daylight again in just a few hours.

The longer she’d lain there, unsleeping, the harder it had been to tell herself that she needed to.

Why she should have to suffer? It’s not like Klaus is going to judge her or turn her away. He’d made that clear last night. She’s not sure what time it is when she gives up, only knows that she can’t hear a peep from any of the other occupants of the house.

She finds Klaus’ door wide open.

She can see him propped up in the center of his bed. He watches her approach, shifts to one side, an invitation he doesn’t bother to voice.

She reaches behind her once she crosses the threshold and shuts the door, fingers fumbling for a lock.

It’s warm when she tucks herself under the covers and she sighs and stretches out her legs, her muscles unclenching in relief. Klaus sinks down until his head rests on a pillow, on his side facing her. There’s no hint that she’s not welcome.

It used to make her jittery, the way Klaus looked at her. She’d tried to tell herself that he wasn’t actually interested, that he had a motive or a lack of other prospects in the immediate vicinity. That his pretty words were practiced lines and that he’d offered trips and trinkets to a thousand people before her.

Caroline knows she was wrong. That if she’d been only convenient he never would have bothered digging her out of that cave.

That should scare her.

Should.

Caroline pulls the heavy comforter over her shoulders, wonders if she should just say screw it and cross the few inches that separate her from Klaus now, or if she should make a show of getting heavy eyed and sleepy first.

“Something wrong with your bed, love?” Klaus teases.

Ugh, he’s so not going to let her get away with faking sleep before she gets hands-y, is he?

She rolls until she faces away from Klaus but rests against him. “Shut up,” she mutters, reaching back to grab his arm. She wraps it around her middle, rests her hand over top of his and squirms until they’re comfortably pressed together. He takes the hint beautifully, his legs bending to tangle with hers.

She feels him laughing, his breath against the back of her neck. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

They shift, settling, and Caroline finds that she can breathe easy now that she can focus on the faint thrum of Klaus’ heartbeat. “How did your visit downstairs go?” he asks.

Caroline scoffs, tugs at a leather cord on his wrist, “Like your minions didn’t report back my every word.”

“They would have. I didn’t ask.”

Caroline finds that she’s smiling, presses her face into the pillow to try to hide it. It’s a simple statement but it tells her that Klaus trusts her. She hadn’t expected that.

“They don’t remember me. I knew they wouldn’t but I still didn’t totally expect it. I felt… expendable a lot, you know? I thought I’d gotten past that but… they kind of brought that all back.”

His grip on her tightens, his stubble scraping her skin as he shakes his head. “You are not expendable.”

“I know,” she answers, firm and steady.

Caroline isn’t who she’d been when she’d called Mystic Falls home. Getting out had been good to her. She’d lost the instinct to second guess her actions, to wonder if her choices would negatively impact her friends. Outside of the tiny town, away from all the people who’d known her all her life, she hadn’t worried about anyone whispering about how she was disgracing her family name or embarrassing her mother.

She’d shed insecurities as she’d hopped planes and trains.

Caroline knows she deserves to be happy, that she matters. Leap frogging into the future hasn’t changed her mind.

“Good,” Klaus rumbles, a wealth of satisfaction in his tone.

Caroline shifts back slightly, nudging him with her elbow, “What? Did you seriously expect me to argue?”

She knows he’s smiling, can hear it in his taunt, “Are you implying that you’re not argumentative, love?”

Caroline twists to glare at him, “I’m going to ignore that obvious baiting because I recognize that I’m totally invading your space right now.”

“It’s not baiting, it’s a statement of fact. And I’m not implying it’s a defect. Quite the opposite, really.”

She studies Klaus carefully, judges that he’s being honest, and turns until her head’s once more resting on the pillow.  “So I like a lively debate, sue me,” she mutters.

Klaus laughs, so softly that she feels it more than hears it. Caroline closes her eyes, lets the warmth of him behind her help ease her into sleep.

Tomorrow’s bound to be another whirlwind of a day.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #yay sequels finally #ybtn