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missmonsters2 · 4 years

Text

You Found Me

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFC

Summary: Part II to Under the Light. Two years have passed . You think there are somethings you can’t survive, but you find a way. And when you’re forced to face Wanda once more, you learn that time can heal almost anything, but some things don’t change.

Note: This was part of my 500 (or 800) follower celebration a while back. 1/3 fics that I will be writing a part II for with a happy ending. This is about as happy as it gets LOL For any new readers, make sure to read part I: under the light for this to make sense.

Warnings: implied depression, panic attacks, moving on & therapy.

PART I: Under the Light

Genre: Soft Angst & Romance

Count: 6589

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The end isn't always what you think it is.

You think after the end, that's it. Roll the credit scene, and fade to black. That's the end of the book; there isn't anything else.

But it's not.

There's always something after the end, and in your case, it's called moving on.

"So?"

You look up, thoughts interrupted.

"I don't know, doc," you sigh, leaning back on the couch.

"Try to explain it," he gently asks, his legs are crossed as he's got his chin in his hand, notebook strewn aside.

You gnaw on your bottom lip, trying to string your thoughts together.

"I guess the hardest parts are the small things I have to remind myself that I don't need to do anymore. Like, earlier this month, there was a new Netflix show that I know she'd love, and I caught myself not watching it because I felt like I should wait for her, but I don't need to anymore," you hope that's enough to convey what you're feeling to your therapist.

"And?" He probes, and you sigh.

Of course, it wouldn't be enough. You knew better by now.

"And I feel...lost," you shrug.

Your therapist hums.

"Why do you feel lost?" Your therapist questions. "What was it about Wanda that made you feel found?"

Talking about Wanda still feels like there's a painful thudding on your chest.

"I..." You rasp, "Because she was like me. Broken. She saw me for me and loved me anyway. And that all crumbled apart."

"Because she's not broken anymore?"

You nod tiredly.

"So, what is the concept of broken people?" Your therapist asks as he leans back in his chair. "If you can be unbroken, were they broken in the first place? Is being broken a forever issue?"

You're silent because you don't know.

"Think about it," your therapist says, uncrossing his legs. "I think you should be opening to meeting more people, making more friends, and letting things progress naturally without too many expectations."

You nod, licking your lips, thoughts coming and going from your mind.

"Alright, that's it for our session today. Think about what I said and come see me again in a couple weeks," your therapist closes his notepad, standing up to let you out.

"Alright, thanks, doc," you say with a soft grin that your therapist returns.

"You're doing really well," he compliments you, "much better than when I found you."

You laugh, "You mean a real nutcase."

"Not at all," your therapist smiles, "You came here, lost and alone. Even though you had said you wanted to give up, you found a job before anything else. You have a stubborn fighting spirit, that even when you feel like you're at your end, you keep going. Be a little proud of that."

"Thanks, David."

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Do you ever wonder what the truth is? Is the truth just a matter of circumstance?

Because the truth is that you had run. You ran from New York and began again in LA.

You saw the missed calls from Wanda and changed your number. You knew that she could find you, if she wanted, you can't hide from her powers and you can't hide from Tony's money.

But running and changing your numbers told her you didn't want her to come after you.

But maybe there's a truth to that too.

"Hey, got your usual."

You look up to see the friendly coffee shop owner across from your building.

"Have I become that predictable, Lucy?" you reply with a friendly smile.

Lucy hands you your drink, laughing lightly as she does. She throws in a free muffin.

"Maybe you're just my favorite customer," she grins.

You quirk your brow at her. Lucy is undoubtedly pretty, with her blonde hair and green eyes. She's funny, and she's easy-going.

"Are you flirting with me over baked goods?"

"Is there any other way?" Lucy tilts her head.

You smile at her, and she returns it.

"Can I have your number?" She asks bluntly, and you find yourself pausing for a moment.

It's small things like this that you find catching yourself at.

The quick second where you almost automatically say no because your body is so used to having Wanda.

The next quick second, where it feels like you're cheating even if she's not with you anymore.

It's a constant reminder you have to learn to live your own life.

You grab an extra coffee sleeve on the side and the pen, scribbling your number down.

You give Lucy a small smile before you wave off and set off to get to work.

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"Hey, where's the fire today?" You ask your coworker as you see the office bustling around more than usual.

"We have a new client. She wants a marketing plan for her company. It's brand new, but she's bringing loads of money. Harris is sucking ass hard to keep her happy," your coworker gossips with you and you hum.

You're not really too concerned about it. After all, you're still relatively new to the company, only having worked for a year and a half.

You were just a novice marketing designer. You worked on small jobs, fixing up other people's work, creating a few things here and there. Your boss was just starting to give you more responsibilities and really liked the ideas you were bringing.

"She sounds like a pain in the ass," you say. You've met big clients before. Most of them were demanding and a little on the rude side, but you couldn't really do much about it when you're just a novice designer.

"Oh, we're passing by the meeting room, let's see what's going on," your worker huddles a little closer to you as the conference room comes up. As you pass by the glass walls, your breath stops.

It's been 2 years, but you could never forget her face.

She looks the same, a little more mature maybe. She's dyed her hair blonde, and no longer has the split hair part, but now to the side.

An array of emotions flicker through you, but it's the single, loud thought that draws her attention to you.

'Fuck.'

Her head whips over to you, shock registering on her face, and at least you know this wasn't a planned attack.

"Oh, she's hot," your coworker whispers to you, and the only response you have to that is swallowing.

"I gotta go," you mutter, speeding past the room and leaving your coworker alone.

You don't even know where to go, but all you know is that you can't be in the same building as Wanda, let alone a room. Bolting out of the building, you walk and walk until you find yourself back at the café.

You sigh, entering the shop.

"Hey," Lucy greets you, surprise on her face that you're back so soon.

You try to give her a smile, but it probably comes out as more of a grimace.

And when Lucy cocks her brow at you, you sigh.

"Sorry," you breathe, "I got ambushed at work. I need somewhere to hide, and I don't know, I ended up here."

Lucy merely nods as you take a seat at one of the tables, setting your bookbag down. You've got your head in your hands as you're trying to control your breathing.

A cup of coffee being set down brings you out of your momentary panic. You look up to see Lucy taking a seat diagonally from you.

"On the house for my favorite panicky customer," she lightly teases you, smiling when she gets you to chuckle.

"Thanks," you say, taking a sip of the drink.

You can tell it's decaf, and you smile at her being considerate.

"So," Lucy slowly speaks, "want to share what's gotten you so shaken that you ran back to my coffee shop before I even had a chance to give you a call?"

You bite your lip.

"I..." You start.

"My ex showed up at my firm. She's a customer. An important one at that, it seems."

It's probably not a good start to talk about your ex, one that clearly so affects you still, to someone you just gave your number to in the prospect of going on a date.

Lucy hums.

"It didn't end well?" She surmises, and you shakily nodded.

"Are you still in love with her?" Lucy asks.

You don't answer right away, but it's enough for Lucy to have an answer.

You don't look at her because it's obvious this was crashing and burning too.

"I..." Lucy licks her lips, "would like to take you on a date."

Your head snaps at to look at her like she's grown three heads.

"What?" You sputter. "Are you sure? I have a lot of baggage clearly."

Lucy shrugs.

"Who doesn't have baggage?"

Your expression shows her that you're unsure because this doesn't exactly spell out it's going to end well, not that it wouldn't either.

"Look," Lucy puts her hand atop of yours, "I'm well aware you're probably still in love with your ex. Whatever it was, it must've been intense. I know full well what I would be getting myself into if I take you on a date. But I think you deserve to go out with someone and see there's more out there."

You stare at her hand on top of yours, blinking.

"Just think about it," Lucy pats your hand as the door rings, indicating another customer has come in. "You're welcomed to stay to hide, and you know where to find me."

Lucy leaves you in your thoughts. You do take her up on her offer to stay because there's no way to go out back to the office. You e-mail your boss you'll be working elsewhere for the day, but he doesn't care as long as you turn in your drafts.

At the end of your shift, you get up, giving Lucy a half-shy, half-awkward wave and leave.

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You leisurely take your time walking home to be able to process your thoughts.

You feel a little calmer than you did when you first bumped into Wanda this morning, but now you had more on your plate with Wanda and deciding if you wanted to go on a date with Lucy.

Although time has passed, you were only really beginning to heal yourself. You weren't really sure if you were in the right headspace for dating.

It felt much more serious now that Lucy knew you had some baggage, and still wanted to go on a date. It didn't feel casual anymore.

You were beginning to walk up to your duplex when you spotted someone sitting on your steps.

"What are you doing here?" You bite out.

There she was, Wanda, sitting on your steps with her head in her hands. She snapped up, hearing your voice.

A wide variety of emotions passed her face.

"You're here," she breathed, and you find yourself recoiling with the thick emotion in her voice as she spoke.

Wanda stands up, going down the steps before she's standing in front of you.

The smell of vanilla and cinnamon invades your nose, and a whole new wave of anxiety passes you with the familiarity of it.

Your heart starts thudding in your chest, and you're breathing heavily. Something on your face tells Wanda you're about to have a panic attack. She starts to come closer, wanting to wrap her arms around you, but she pauses.

Wanda knows that she's the cause of this right now, so she backs up and gives you some space with her hands up non-threateningly.

"Hey," she softly speaks, "it's okay. I won't invade your space."

You close your eyes as you try to focus.

"That's it," Wanda tries to guide you, "breathe in. Hold it...that's good, okay, exhale slowly."

This repeats for minutes until you've calmed down.

"I'm sorry," Wanda says slowly, "I would've called first, but I didn't know your number."

"That didn't stop you from showing up at my place," you mutter.

Wanda bites her lip, but nods.

"What do you want?" You ask her.

"Can we go inside? It's not safe about it to talk outside," Wanda nods her head towards your door.

You frown, not really wanting to let her in, but you sigh and nod.

You pass by her, careful to not breathe in her scent as you open the door and let her in.

You barely acknowledge her as you drop your things on the kitchen table and start to heat your kettle for hot water.

Wanda walks in slowly, taking in your place.

She notices that it both feels homey and empty.

You've clearly taken care of your place, getting a nice couch, and the effort of getting pillows and throw blankets for it. There's art on the wall, but there are no personal photos anywhere.

It was like a show home.

You watch Wanda stare at your things as you lean against the wall.

"Why are you here?" You ask, breaking Wanda's thoughts as she looks over to you.

She purses her lips, let out a deep sigh.

"I'm on a mission. I didn't realize you were working there. I just wanted to let you know that I'm investigating your boss."

"My boss," you repeat slowly, and Wanda nods.

"I can't go into many details, but I'm undercover right now."

You grumble. Of course, the firm you pick to build your career has a shady boss running it.

"Fine," you huff, "I won't get in your way. Anything else?"

Wanda's eyes soften as she looks at you.

"How are you? You look good," she sincerely says to you, and you give her a blank expression.

There's a tumulus feeling rumbling underneath you. You want to scream at her because why is she asking? It's none of her business.

Wanda sighs again when you don't answer her. "I sincerely didn't know you worked at the firm. If I had known you worked there, I would've asked someone else to take this mission."

There's a bit of a sting to her words because as much as you didn't want to see her, it sounds like she didn't want to see you either.

"Well," you huff, "no worries about me. I won't get in your way. Do what you have to do."

Perhaps because there's a bite to your words, a tone of sarcasm as you walk back into the kitchen, Wanda follows you.

"Hey," she calls, grabbing your wrist to turn you around. You immediately pull your arm away, and Wanda lets go, an apologetic look on her face.

"I didn't mean it like that," Wanda explains.

It's silent, and you don't say anything, not making another move even though your kettle as turned off, signaling the hot water was done.

"I wanted to chase you," Wanda says.

The words hang in the air, and you're not sure what to do with that. You just let the words sting.

"I wanted to follow you immediately the day you left. You ran so fast. One moment you were breaking up with me, and then the next day, you bought a plane ticket and left," Wanda ran her fingers through her hair.

"I harassed Tony into finding out where you had gone. I bought a plane ticket, ready to go after you," Wanda stopped talking.

You were clenching and unclenching your jaw.

"But Natasha said I shouldn't," Wanda finally says, and you're ready to explode at her, barely able to just keep it in.

"She said that you were hurting, I was causing your hurting," Wanda frowned. "Natasha said you needed to heal, and where we both were, I would only hinder your progress. You needed a change of scenery without me."

You don't know what to say to that.

Because it's true.

With more time that passes, it's easier for you to admit that you being with her at the time was making things worse for you.

She wasn't in a good place when you had met her and got together. But Wanda was healing before you, and you weren't ready for that.

You relied on her too much, put Wanda on a pedestal, kept putting her before yourself.

You were probably hindering Wanda's healing too.

It was too hard for you to see her with Vision, even if it might've been nothing.

"I respected your space, and I didn't check up on you," Wanda tells you, taking a cautionary step closer. "But that never changed the fact that I'm still in love with you. I'm still waiting for the right time for us to get back together."

You recoil slightly as she gets closer. You're not ready for this. You can feel every muscle in your body screaming to run.

"Why?" You hoarsely ask, tears welling in your eyes.

"When you left, you said I had outgrown you," Wanda says, and you feel a slice across your heart at the bitter memory.

"But that's not true," Wanda shakes her head, "I had loved you when we first met, loved you when we were in the dark, and I will love you as we keep moving. It doesn't matter if we don't move at the same pace. I will love you."

They're pretty words, you feel. Because all you can remember is how she had said none of this as you were leaving.

All you can remember is how she turned to Vision.

You don't have anything to say except you turn to bolt for the door, leaving Wanda in your place.

You hear a call of your name, but you keep running, thankful that she doesn't follow you.

You pull out your phone and dial.

"Hello?"

"I know it's after hours, but can you please see me right now?"

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You staring a picture above the fireplace.

"Did you want anything to drink?"

You turn your attention away from the photo, looking at David.

"Water, please," you quietly ask.

"Sure thing," David grins as he yells down the hall for water, making you wince.

His husband, Liam, shows up looking unimpressed with David as he shoots you a wink before leaving.

You're in David's study room as he hands you the water and gestures for you to take a seat.

"Sorry for showing up like this," you apologize.

David waves it off. "It's fine. You came at a good time. Liam was kicking my ass in scrabble, he was getting too smug."

You smile lightly. It's been a while since you had seen Liam. When you had first arrived, you saw David pretty regularly and sometimes even ate dinner at their place while you were still trying to get yourself together.

"So?" David settles into his seat with his hands, clasped together. "What's got you rattled?"

"Wanda showed up."

It's quiet for a moment as David assesses what you said.

He hums.

"Why did she show up?"

"She's a client at my firm. An important one and she can't choose another firm. She didn't know I was working there," you explain as best you can since you can't tell David she's undercover.

David nods.

"And what happened?"

"I ran," you tell him. "I hid in a coffee shop I go to every day, where the owner asked me out on a date, knowing full well I'm not over Wanda. Then I went home, and Wanda was there waiting for me."

You speak so fast that David widens his eyes minusculely.

He doesn't say anything, so you assume you need to keep talking about what happened.

"I had a panic attack when I smelled her scent," you mutter, "I let her into my place, and she explained why she had shown up. I know she wasn't trying to ambush me."

"Alright, it sounds pretty standard. Did she leave after?"

You explain the rest of what happened to David, who seems to be taking in what happened as he sits in silence for a bit.

He hums.

"What did you think about what she said?" He asks.

"Lies," you immediately say. "Or at least partially lies."

"Why is that?"

You sigh a little frustratedly as you lean forward in your chair. "Why didn't she say those things as we were breaking up? I told her to admit it, she had outgrown me, and she didn't say anything. Saying nothing might as well have been agreeing. Now she's here saying that she would always love me?"

"And what if it was true? That you two had outgrown each other?"

"Then there's no point," you say, "even if we land in the right place, we could always outgrow each other again."

David hums again, and you hate it when he does that.

"Just say what you're thinking," you grumble, and he smiles.

"In my professional opinion, it's true that it can happen again. But here's the thing, love is not just a feeling. It takes work and effort. You have to choose that every day. Two years have passed, the two of you are different people. Back then, you were choosing to not move forward; Wanda was. That's where your insecurities had stemmed from when she was getting closer to Vision. Space apart might have been the best thing for you to not rely on and hinder each other. But now, you're here. Healing. Choosing."

"So, I should get back together with her?" Your brows furrow.

David laughs lightly, "No, I didn't say that. That's something you will need to decide on your own. I'm just here to help you rationalize your feelings and thoughts, suggest you do things that may help. That's why I think you should accept the date with Lucy."

"What?"

David rests his elbow on his armrest, rubbing his index finger and thumb together.

"Lucy was very clear she understood what she was getting into if you choose to go on a date with her. Seems like she's offering to show you a good time without any strings attached. You might not come across an opportunity like that again," David points out.

"If it leads to something more and you want that, you have your answer," David smiles.

You sigh shakily and nod sharply.

The end of the session comes, and David leans forward.

"Just remember, you're different than who you were two years ago. Wanda coming back doesn't change that. She's different than who she was two years ago. You don't need to idealize her. She's just another person too."

You shakily nod your head, thanking David for squeezing you in so suddenly, and say bye to Liam on your way out.

When you head home, Wanda is no longer there, but there's an address written on your notepad on the counter.

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The next few weeks pass by with a blur. Work gets so busy, you hardly have time to think about anything.

Not that it stops you from thinking about things, but it's easier.

You see Wanda in the building occasionally, but other than a nod of acknowledgment, she doesn't speak to you. You're sure it's because you ran out the last time, and she's trying to respect your space again.

Though, sometimes you find yourself staring at Wanda from afar. You think about what David says and how you're both different people. She does seem different.

She walks with this air of confidence that she didn't have before. She smiles more, and she doesn't look as angry and resentful as she once did.

You find yourself self-reflecting on yourself when that happens. You can admit that you've come a long way, but you aren't quite sure you'd categorize yourself in the same place as Wanda, but you are moving forward.

That night, you show up at the coffee shop, surprising Lucy as you come in.

You haven't seen her in weeks, you even stopped coming for morning coffees.

"And she lives," Lucy says amusedly, but you feel a little guilty for avoiding her.

You breathe, gathering your courage as you look at her.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Lucy tilts her head, staring at you momentarily before she smiles, and you think she has a beautiful one.

"I'm actually just closing up, so if you'd like to wait, we can go to this nice little ice cream shop a couple blocks from here."

You nod eagerly, happy that you hadn't botched this up.

You two make small talk as she cleans up, catching each other up on the week.

The walk passes quickly, and you learn things about Lucy like how she had gotten her degree in literature and was a part-time writer working on a novel. The coffee shop was her parents, but they had passed it down to her when they had retired. She's thinking about it passing it down to her little sister when her sister is old enough.

You stare at the ice cream menu for almost 20 minutes, unsure what you want to order, but Lucy is patient and talks about her recommendations. You apologize, but she waves it off.

You end up choosing what she recommends, and you like it, but you're not surprised since Lucy seems to understand your coffee order.

The date is simple.

It's easy, you find.

Talking to Lucy is easy, and she's definitely a beautiful woman.

Even when Lucy slowly reaches for your hand to hold, with a half-shy smile, half-smirk, you let her.

You hear your name.

You turn around to see Wanda standing there, frowning as her eyes pass over your held hand.

"Wanda," you breathe.

The way you say her name, Lucy immediately knows.

But then you're holding Lucy's hand tighter.

"What are you doing here?" Wanda asks, trying to play it off casually.

"I'm..." you start to say, but the words die on your lips.

"We're on a date," Lucy answers instead, brow raised.

"Date?" Wanda says, looking at you, and you swallow.

That feeling like you're cheating on her comes, but you squash it down because you know you're not.

"Yes," you say firmly. "I'm on a date. I'll see you at work."

With that, you turn, Lucy in hand as you drag her off.

When you're finally far enough, you sigh.

"Sorry," you mumble, feeling awkward.

Lucy shrugs. "You handled it better than I thought you would. I thought you had swallowed your tongue for a moment."

You let out a rough chuckle as you keep walking. The two of you sit on a park bench, enjoying the weather, the ice cream, and each other.

"You're still very much in love with her, not even close to being over her."

Lucy speaks after a moment of silence when the conversation had died.

You look at her, surprised she would bring it up again. She didn't even say it as a posed question. She stated as a fact.

You sigh, "yeah."

"But, you want to move on?" Lucy asks.

You struggle.

"I don't know," you answer finally.

Lucy reaches over to hold your hand again, and you look down.

"Does this feel good?" She asks.

You lick your lips as you stare at your intertwined hands.

"It feels easy," you admit.

Lucy tilts her head but sighs as she pulls her hand away.

"Can I tell you something?"

You nod, unsure.

Lucy looks ahead of her. "I don't think love should be easy. Sure, that would make everything simple. I don't think love should be a constant battle either, but I think we both should get a love that's worth fighting for."

You swallow, looking away.

Because you agree.

It's so easy with Lucy. You know that if you let yourself, you could fall in love with her. It would be easy, and you know there's a simple path ahead of you. You'd know what the next steps would be every time.

With Wanda, it's always hard. It's true, you're not always fighting her, but being with her is not a simple feat.

But you don't know if you want that.

Lucy turns you and kisses you on the cheek swiftly.

"Maybe it's not with me, maybe it is. Maybe it's with your ex, maybe it's not, but there's a great love out there. For both of us. I hope I succeeded in showing you a good time."

You smile at her and nod.

"Thanks," you tell her softly, and although she's not yours, you feel like you're losing her a little. You're losing out on something wonderful, you just know it.

You can't help but blame Wanda a little for that.

"I expect to see you Monday morning for the best coffee ever," Lucy says she stands up, "and a big fat tip."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," you smile at her as she waves at you before leaving.

You stay on the park bench much longer after Lucy left, sighing.

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When work comes around Monday, you do as you promised and get coffee at Lucy's, staying the extra minute to chat before you're on your way.

Work is relatively quiet today, Wanda seems tense, and midway through the day, your boss is getting arrested in front of everyone. The executives are taken in custody for questioning, and it will be decided later on who will take over the company.

Everyone is allowed to leave for the day with that, but you decide to stay at the office longer to get work done because you get distracted too easily at home.

It's nearly 2PM when Wanda appears in front of you.

"Hey," she says softly, and you greet her back with a soft grunt in return.

You close your laptop, wanting to take a break as you look at Wanda.

"Looks like you're done your mission. Lucky you, you get to return."

"I'm staying in the area for a little while longer while things are getting wrapped up," Wanda shakes her head.

You merely nod.

But at least you know she won't be showing up at her workplace anymore. You get up, going to the copier room to make some copies of your report for next week.

Wanda follows you, standing at the door and leaning against it slightly with her arm.

"Are you dating her?" She asks bluntly.

And you pause for a moment before you continue with what you're doing.

"It's none of your business," you tell her.

"If you were over me, you would just answer," Wanda answers back, and you snap your head towards her and glare.

"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?" You grit.

Wanda shakes her head.

"I just want you to tell me if you're dating her," she stands up straighter.

"Why do you even care?" You grumble with a shake of your head.

"Of course I care, I'm in love with you," Wanda says it so easily that it pisses you off.

You accidentally crumble the papers in your hand as you turn to her.

"Wanda," you say very slowly, trying to rein in your temper. "This is already difficult enough for me. You coming back here, even if it's was unintentional, makes this hard for me. I'm a long way from where I was but seeing you just a reminder of how broken I was. How broken we were, and how easy it was for you to move on."

"You don't think this is hard for me too?" Wanda hisses at you as she takes a step closer.

"You don't think me losing the love of my life because of my inability to say the right things at the right time doesn't keep me up at night? I'm a long way from where I was too. I was just as lost as you were. You thought I had moved on, outgrown you, but I was just lost. You can't lie to me and say you weren't frustrated how you felt every day."

"But I didn't turn to anyone else when I felt that way!" You shout at her.

"Vision means nothing to me!" Wanda shouts back at you, throwing her hands in the air. "We just have a commonality between us, which is the stone. I was just learning about the stone."

Wanda conjures up red wisps between her fingers as if to emphasize her point.

And even though you had known that might've been the case, it hadn't hurt any less.

"You can't deny that we're bad for each other," you shake your head.

"I love you," Wanda throws out, and it makes you tense. "I know you're still in love with me too."

"You don't know that," you breathe.

But Wanda walks up closer to you, she gets up in your personal space, her face hovering over yours.

"Then why do you get so affected by seeing me? Your thoughts are a mess, and why do your lips tremble when you breathe my name?"

You glare at her.

"That doesn't mean I'm in love with you. You think I can't kiss other people? That I can't move on from you? Love outside of you exists."

"With Lucy?" Wanda sneers her name. You don't even have to ask that Wanda got her name through reading your mind.

"Why not her?" You challenge.

Wanda stands there, staring at you, her pupils dilating and contracting as she takes you in.

"Then, let's see you if you can run back to her after this."

And before you can say anything, Wanda's thrusting her hands against your jaw into your hair, gripping it familiarly as she slams into your lips with unadulterated passion.

She moves her lips against yours, tilting your head as she backs you against the photocopier.

It hits you so fast and so hard.

The feel of her lips.

Her scent invading your senses.

She tastes like honey and chocolates, and you know she's been eating candy.

She runs her hand through your hair. Her hand eventually reaches the back of your neck, and she holds it to keep you close to her.

It takes the sound of her soft sigh to bring you back to reality, and you push her off you.

You furrow your brows, chest heaving from her kiss.

You look at her, and she's staring at you equally as breathless.

"You're such a fucking asshole," you tell her, shaking your head as you push past her.

You're pissed.

How dare Wanda just...just kiss you like that!

She has no boundaries, no sense of what you're feeling.

You gather your things, glaring at Wanda to not follow you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda sighs.

She fucked up.

She knows she did.

Wanda makes herself some tea at the place she's posted to until she can go home. It was pretty close to the firm for obvious reasons.

She shouldn't have kissed you like that, but it was like this ugly green monster, and the fear of losing you when she saw you with Lucy overwhelmed her.

Wanda had understood what Natasha had told her. She had understood, and let you go on the hopes that the two of you would both grow and be in a better place.

It wasn't easy for Wanda, she felt like this giant hole was created in her when you left.

She wasn't a good girlfriend, and she had to work through that.

Maybe it was premature, but seeing you brought up all the feelings she never left behind.

Wanda looks outside, noticing the day had passed by quickly, and now it was dark out. She looks at the clock and sighs when it's already 11 PM, but Wanda is feeling no closer to being able to sleep.

Wanda knew she was going to need to apologize, that was if you were even willing to talk to her.

She wouldn't be surprised if you decided to quit the firm and moved.

Wanda sighs, rubbing her forehead and temples with her hands.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Wanda turns her head to the door, brow furrowing. The knocking continues until Wanda walks up to open the door.

You push past her and walk into her home.

"You know I had a lot of time to this about this, but what the fuck is wrong you?" You immediately fire off, pacing back and forth.

"You think you can just drop back into my life, even if you didn't mean to, tell me you're still in love with me and kiss me?"

You turn around and glare at her. "Is it crack? Is that what you're smoking? Because who the fuck does that!"

"You had no right to do that, you're such an inconsiderate asshole!"

Wanda frowns, taking the yelling. Your chest is heaving with anger.

"Are you done?" She asks, and you nearly start screaming at her again.

"Did you just come here to yell at me?" Wanda raises her brow.

It's quiet for a moment as you stare at Wanda.

"No," you finally after a moment. "I came to do this."

And suddenly, you're running towards her, jumping as you wrap your legs around her midsection as she's forced to hold you up, slamming your lips down on her.

You kiss her wildly, and Wanda response immediately. You wrap your arms around her neck, kissing her over and over as you tangle your hand in her hair.

Moans are heard, and Wanda is walking, nearly stumbling as she both holds you up and makes her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

She throws you on the mattress.

Chest heaving, but from kissing is a much better image Wanda likes. You sit up, grabbing her hand as you remove her rings and toss them aside, making haste to unbutton her shirt.

And Wanda pulls your shirt over your head.

Her body presses yours down to the bed, hands aligning as she intertwines them.

It feels right.

Wanda is going to make sure she loves you with all her might.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It's late into the night, and twilight will come soon. You lie there, breath coming to a steady rhythm as Wanda covers your bare chest with the blanket.

She kisses your shoulder, and you sigh in small contentment.

Under the blanket, you seek her hand out, holding it.

"I'm in love with you still," you confess and Wanda smiles.

"I know."

"But I'm also scared," you tell her, "I'm not really sure if I'm ready for more right now."

"Love is patient," Wanda answers, squeezing your hand.

"How do you know it's the right time for us?" You ask her.

Wanda shifts in the bed, throwing her other hand behind her head.

"I suspect there's no such thing as the right time," she admits, "but I do believe we're both in a better place. The feelings never left. We're both choosing to fight for our own life, choosing to fight for us."

"I don't know if broken people should get second chances," you admit. It's been a ride in therapy, but these thoughts still come.

Wanda turns to you, raising herself onto her elbow.

"Broken people get to heal," she insists firmly. "We're not always broken, and I won't lie and say there won't be cracks, but I love you no matter what. You love me, no matter what. Our cracks are a beautiful reminder that we're fighters. No matter what is revealed when we're under the light, I will fight for you. For me. For us."

You find yourself crying, and Wanda dips down to kiss you tenderly.

"Under the light, you found me."

#mm: my fics #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x OFC #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #avengers au #avengers imagine #marvel reader insert #marvel imagine #marvel au #modern avengers au

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

Day 1: Logince

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 1: Your soulmate’s name is on your wrist.

Content: Flower/Tattoo Shop AU, background character death (unspecified cause, none of the sides), that’s pretty much it, it’s just soft Logince.

Word count: 2.7k

A small ding from the store entrance pulled Roman out of his thoughts, and he groaned softly. It was nearing the end of his shift, almost closing time, and another customer at this time would probably mean he was staying after hours again. All he wanted to do was go home and watch cheap reality TV in his sweatpants while shoveling handfuls of hot cheetos into his mouth. So sue him, it had been a long day. But nooo. Someone else had just walked in, probably someone with a very specific style that was out of season and they would argue for half an hour, no matter how many times he explained that tulips aren’t blooming right now, Vanessa!

Sure, usually his customers were great. Nervous first anniversaries, eccentric brides, all that romance stuff. He loved it. And they were usually all too willing to give him a budget and a color scheme and let him go wild, which was the best part about his job. He was good at it, too. His boss had seen his eye for style and almost immediately gave him solo shifts, which meant decently good pay and hours alone to belt out songs amongst the flowers and daydream to his heart’s content. It was a small enough business that the only mandatory part of his outfit was a green apron, so he could wear whatever he wanted, and he didn’t need a pesky nametag. Those had always weirded him out just a bit. So yeah, he loved his job, but right now, he knew himself too well. He had awful luck.

With a forced customer service grin, he poked out of the backroom and began his usual spiel of, “Thanks for coming to The Rainbow Bouquet, what can I get started…”

His words died in his throat at the mere sight of the man before him. Never had he been so equally attracted and frightened at the same time.

He was tall, probably just taller than him, but he held himself in a way that made Roman feel miniscule. Both arms were covered in tattoo sleeves, the left one a flurried mix of black and white and color, beautiful strips of pink and blue galaxies blending with grayscale skulls and clocks. The other had more order; shadows of a forest growing from around his wrist, shimmering mist curling up over his bicep and ending with a full moon stamped on his shoulder like a crest. A corner of something peaked up around the collar of his torn vest, and if Roman had to guess, there were most likely plenty more tattoos that were covered by his ripped black jeans and blue Nasa shirt. Not that his mind was going there at all, no siree.

Once Roman’s brain had screeched to a halt back in his body, he spoke again.

“What can I get started for you today?”

The man swallowed with difficulty, taking in the rows and rows of flowers surrounding him. He definitely didn’t look in his element.

“I need an arrangement for my mother. She’s in the hospital.”

Ah, the part of the job that Roman didn’t enjoy. Probably half the orders that came in were for sick people or funerals, and those were always a lot harder to arrange. It was always hard to find joy in creating for something so dismal.

“I’m sorry to hear. Did you have anything specific in mind? Does she have a favorite flower?”

“Daisies. She likes Daisies,” He murmured, still admiring the space around him. Roman couldn’t help but smile at the man’s expression. It was just a little awe inspired, a little bit of childish wonder, under that rough exterior. It was a gorgeous shop, that’s one of the reasons Roman had started working there.

“That’s good, it makes it a little easier for me to design something when I have that to go off of. Do you have a budget, or…”

He shook his head weakly, finally turning to look at Roman. “Price isn’t an issue. This is one of the last things I’m going to be able to give her.”

“Oh,” Roman whispered, slowly putting down the pen he’d been writing with, “I’m so sorry.”

“It can’t be changed. There’s no point in losing sleep over it.”

“Just because it’s going to happen doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. You’re allowed to be sad about it.”

The man narrowed his eyes, giving Roman a once over before lifting his chin slightly. “I don’t need advice from a stranger.”

“Of course you don’t,” Roman quickly corrected, remembering he was still at work, “My apologies. When did you want to pick it up?”

“I’m visiting her tomorrow at noon. Could it be ready by then?”

“You bet. Can I have a name for the pick up?”

“Logan.” Roman’s pen skittered over his notepad, almost falling through his fingers.

Having a common name on your wrist was a curse in and of itself. And poor him, the hopeless romantic that he was, had met countless “Logan’s” in his day, and consequently fallen for most of them at first introduction, only to figure out quickly that they weren’t destined for a “Roman”. As inconspicuously as possible, he tried to glance down at Logan’s wrist, only finding a mass of swirling tattoos covering his skin. Dammit. There were some people born without soulmates, or had their soulmark fade to nothingness when their person passed away, and he tried not to think too terribly hard on which one Logan was. He tampered his rush of excitement as quickly as it had arisen and turned back to his notes, ignoring Logan’s raised eyebrow at his sudden stop.

Roman scribbled down the name and phone number as it was given, setting down the notepad with a customer service smile. The man spent no time dawdling, immediately starting towards the door, only to hesitate before walking out.

“Her favorite color is yellow.”

Roman nodded, the fake smile slowly morphing into an authentic one. “I can work with that.”

It was now a week after Logan had picked up the bouquet, a somewhat awkward interaction filled with small compliments towards the arrangement and Roman nearly dropping the flowers as their fingers touched while passing it over. As he was ringing up the total, he’d been able to uphold a brief conversation where Logan revealed he was a tattoo artist (no shock, considering he showed more inked skin than plain), and Roman showed off his rose tattoo on his upper arm. It would have been fine if the conversation ended there, but no, Logan had to reach up tentatively to brush his finger along the edge of the piece, commenting off handedly about how the color had started to fade.

“How long ago did you get this done?”

“Probably ten years, give or take.”

“You’re what, mid twenties? There’s no way you were legal ten years ago.”

“Who said I was?” It was said with a small wink that made Logan pull his hand away, an action that immediately dampened Roman’s mood.

“If you ever want it touched up, come by the shop. It’s just down the road.”

Roman had promised to consider, pulling the collar of his long sleeve shirt back up over the rose and bidding the man a good visit to his mother. Even now, a full week later, he couldn’t help his thoughts that were so centered around the tattoo artist. So maybe that was why Logan walked back into the shop the following Wednesday. I simped so hard I summoned him, Roman thought weakly as the gorgeous man strode straight up to the counter, leaning on it like he owned it.

“I have a question.”

“What’s your question?

“A client asked me yesterday to design a tattoo for her. A bouquet, seen from the top, and all she specified was it should feature hydrangeas, and she asked me to, quote, ‘go nuts’.”

“This isn’t sounding like a question so far.”

Logan sighed apprehensively, adjusting his glasses, “I was hoping you could give me some ideas on how to start. All the tips I found online contradicted each other in some way or another, and the arrangement you created for my mother was so well done…”

He trailed off, giving Roman a look that clearly said I need your help but don’t make me ask for it. Chuckling slightly, he leaned onto the counter as well, his face inches away from Logan’s. For the first time, he could see the small piercing on the man’s tongue as he sighed again. God, that’s hot.

“I’ll help you. On one condition.”

“Being?”

“Help me design my next tattoo.” In full honesty, he hadn’t even considered a second tattoo until that second.

“Deal.” There was no hesitation in his answer, and he took Roman’s offered hand, barely shaking it in the small space between them.

“Alright!” Roman pulled back, satisfied but disappointed as their hands separated, “Let’s talk flowers!”

And talk they did. For hours, in fact. It started with Logan’s tattoo dilemma, and Roman’s skillful eye and creative mind solved that problem in a flash, crudely drawing out a bouquet idea that fit all the criteria. The tattoo artist took it from there, using the notepad paper and Roman’s sketch, along with a quick round of the shop to see what the recommended flowers, fillers, and greens would all look like, and drew out a detailed piece that put Roman’s own art talent to shame. After explaining that his shift was done at the parlor and he had the rest of the afternoon free, Roman invited Logan to stay for a while longer, seeing as his day had dragged on customer-less so far, and he was bored. Plus, now was as good a time as any to pay back the favor. Two mugs of breakroom coffee later, the two were huddled around the counter, Roman describing his ideas and Logan sketching them like there was no tomorrow. Maybe half way through the brainstorm, the conversation switched to Logan’s mother (which he talked about hesitantly), then to Roman’s family, slowly changing to the absurdity of satin couch cushions, then to their favorite foods, and finally ending with a loud debate on whether pineapple deserved to be on pizza.

“It’s a fruit, Logan! Why the hell would you put fruit on a pizza?!”

“All I’m saying is that the sweet flavor of the pineapple balances out the tanginess of the marinara sauce, and adds more to the plain crust!”

“That doesn’t make it right!”

Logan had to go soon after that, wanting to visit his mom before visiting hours ended. He left with a begrudging smile on his face and a promise to come back another day, drawing an ear to ear grin from Roman. He’s just a friend, he reprimanded himself sternly, all the while sliding the drawing of his next possible tattoo into his phone case with startling reverence. No use getting attached to some who wasn’t his soulmate.

Yet, he still couldn’t help but feel saddened as a week passed again, then two, then a month. His job had returned to it’s boring normalcy, with only the flowers and no cute boy to keep him company. Even when he sat at his little desk next to the counter, hands working effortlessly to string together order after order, he couldn’t help the occasional glance at the door. The hope that his prince charming would waltz back in, piercings and ripped clothing galore, never faded.

A month and a half later, the little chime above the door dinged, and Roman glanced up from his handful of Baby’s Breath (seriously people, there are other fillers). Immediately a huge smile pulled at his lips and he dropped the half finished bouquet onto his table.

“Logan! What took you so… long…” His expression morphed into one of worry as he took in the other’s appearance. Gone was the usual grunge attire he was so prone to wearing, replaced with a black hoodie and beaten up Vans. His eyes no longer held that dangerous glimmer that had intimidated Roman so much when they first met. He just looked… small. Logan had never looked small before.

“My mom died last month,” He whispered.

Roman was over the desk in a second, pulling the man into his arms before he could protest. It took Logan a second, a long, awkward, stiff second, before he let his arms wrap around his waist, allowing his forehead to rest on the florist’s shoulder.

“I thought I’d be okay when she died… it was inevitable. It was her time… so why does it still hurt so bad?” The desperate whisper shattered Roman’s heart.

“You’re allowed to feel sad, Logan.” He felt him merely shake his head in response, but he said nothing to push the topic further.

Logan didn’t cry as they stood there, though he clung to Roman almost desperately. If he had to guess, the poor man was probably already cried out. He looked exhausted, and his unusually slumped posture only weakened more when Roman tightened his arms ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. You were probably waiting.”

“Hey, no apologizing.”

“I just… didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“So what changed your mind?”

Logan shrugged, still not pulling away, “I couldn’t seem to snap myself out of it. And I needed someone who wouldn’t laugh at me. If our few interactions were anything to go by, you were that person.”

Roman decided to ignore the blatant implication that Logan didn’t have anyone except a practical stranger to go to. They could talk about that later, if he decided to stay for a while. Roman really hoped he did.

When the tattoo artist finally pulled out of the hug, many minutes later, he pushed his sweater paws under his glasses to scrub at his eyes. Maybe he hadn’t cried, but he sure was close to it.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I don’t even know your name, and I-”

“It’s okay, stop-” Roman reeled back slightly, eyebrows shooting into his hairline, “Oh… sweet Zac Efron. I never told you my name! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“It felt too late to ask,” Logan smirked subtly despite himself, letting his hands fall back to his side.

“Oh, my sweet summer child.”

“I am none of those things.”

Roman sighed in soft exasperation, smiling at the barely perceivable glimmer in the other’s eyes. Ah, there it is. “My name’s Roman. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

He was instantly concerned with the way Logan’s face fell into one of total shock. Shit, what did he do wrong? The fear was quickly replaced with understanding, however, as the artist’s hand drifted to his right wrist.

“What are the chances that your wrist says my name on it?” Logan said it like he was scared to be hopeful, like a happy ending was just not imaginable for him. Roman couldn’t comprehend all the emotions he felt at one time; elation, shock, fear. He answered in a choked voice, smiling all the while.

“One hundred percent.”

The both upturned their arms in near harmony, Roman pulling his gardening glove down to reveal the name. He squinted at Logan’s wrist, finally noticing the small writing that just barely stood out underneath a grayscale (anatomically correct) heart. No wonder he missed it before, it almost blended in with the outline.

And then Logan did cry, but so did Roman, so it was a little more okay. He seemed more confused than anything as Roman pulled him back in, holding him even tighter than before.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I’m so unused to… well, feeling. I’m not usually like this, I believe I’m just sleep deprived and worn out from-”

“You never, ever need to be guilty for feeling, you absolute punk stereotype.” Roman pressed a long kiss to the other’s temple, letting him unwind in his arms. “We’ll work on that together. I promise.”

A muffled affirmative hum was all he got in response. He pressed another kiss to the top of Logan’s head as his crying slowed, breathing out heavily into the man’s hair. Together. That’s all that mattered.

Peep this gorgeous art piece for this fic

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts soulmate au

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klm-zoflorr · 3 years

Text

So made some character sheets for my Yuko babies ocs! I love them, it was so much fun. I really like designing clothes... Plus it helped me flesh them out a little more. Long-deserved characterisation and versions of drawings under the cut because it got way too long :)

So, Yaosa (first pannel) is the one who is raised in the Fire Nation with Zuko. You can check a little bit of backstory there. Lueni (second pannel) is the one who grew up at the North Pole with Yue. You can check her orginal post there, an outfit variation there and a potential grown-up version of her there, or just scroll her tag on my blog.

I have decided/changed it so Yaosa is nonbinary! Idk I was getting those vibes. He uses all pronouns, but mostly he/they. Full disclaimer that I am not trans, and so might be insensitive with my headcanons. Don't hesitate to tell me if that's the case! But we should be fine.

Also I am still not gonna make transphobia a thing in the avatarverse because I just don't like that stuff.

He knows how to chi block, their fighting style is very fast and agile. Ty lee taught them, she is kind of a mother/aunt figure to them. Firelord (!!) Azula kinda is too tbh, Yaosa was sorta raised by a village ahah

I think he's a firebender? I'm not sure if I'm gonna make it canon or not. On one hand it would be fun to have a nonbending royal, on the other I want to show the differences between typical fire nation values and Yaosa's in other ways. And I'm not even sure they'd keep him if he was a nonbender? One thing that's certain is that he isn't a waterbender, or he would get his ass yeeted off the palace in less than 30 seconds

Lueni is a firebender for sure tho, which causes... Problems. If they were both firebenders, she would be the most powerful. She probably has some training in weapons, sword maybe? Knives at least. Idk her shoulder plate would make sense with a sword.

Lueni is definitely the more hotheaded of the two, and the most likely to get into a fight. Doesn't mean she fights everyone she sees, tho, she just has a more headstrong and willful persona, and wouldn't stay silent if you say something that bothers her. Words are her first weapon of choice, she can be pretty commanding (and sometimes acts too much like she's the boss of you and is always right, which can piss people off) and is good at convincing people, althought she hates lying and wouldn't consciously manipulate someone. On the other hand, Yaosa often prefers to watch from a distance and calculate things. He is honest too, but doesn't have as strong a sense of justice (which is only natural given where he was raised). He can use either words or strenght on people, depending which is more likely to work.

So, now that we're done with the headcanons let's talk about the drawings. You can see that I drew variations of clothing for both of them. They depend on their stories (which I haven't quite fleshed out yet) and personalities a little bit too. Like:

Lueni's first two outfits is for when she's still at the North Pole with her mom. The first one is more of an outer wear, second one is a more relaxed/chill/inside kind of clothing. Yes, her arms are exposed! She doesn't get cold very easily, I wonder why...

Her last two outfits are for when she leaves the North Pole (it happens at some point in the story. Idk when and idk why). Since she is from the poles, she has trouble handling high temperatures, and if you add to that all the fire play going on... You can see I added a belt and knee + shoulder reinforcment. I just thought that was a realistic touch for someone travelling around and getting into fights.

You can see her style of clothing is a little bit fancy, but definitely not unpractical (especially the last one) She likes being able to move around, and wouldn't be able to do so as easily with clothes like Yue's princess outfit (and her big skirt). Add to that the fact while she is technically a princess, she's not that legitimate. So she is allowed to not be as proper as she should be, which she is very happy about.

She very rarely lets her hair down, prefering to keep it in a practical ponytail. Plus, she can keep her hair thingie/crown visible this way (she is proud of being apart of her family and royalty, even if there are some points she dislikes). I gave her a bone necklace bc i thought it looked cool.

Yaosa doesn't have different weather outfits since their story happens mostly at the same place, aka in the fire nation/earth kingdom.

However, his style of clothing changed depending on whether he has to act like the Fire Nation prince or if they're left to chill on a boat. I imagined when the story takes place he is on their own Avatar search? Everyone in the family gets a part in this, ahah. Anyway, he doesn't like formality when he doesn't have to be formal, and so doesn't wear armor at all times (or... Ever, tbh. They're kind of a pacifist, fight avoidant too)

So, the first outfit is the typical fire nation armor, of course. Second one is a long, thin cotton coat that I thought fit them pretty well. The short sleeves are maybe more suited for hotter temperatures. He keeps the usual fire nation boots for this outfit. I also added some random bandages on his arm, it doesn't mean anything particular.

The last two are the same outfit, with different poses. I don't have anything particular to say about it, apart from the fact I fcking love it.

I think he has kind of a hermit/wise vibe to him. I really like it, think it fits his think-before-you-fight vibe. Think about a kind of Zuko but without the anger issues. Oh, and he usually braids his hair because this way they don't get hair in their face while fighting, but can also sport a top knot or just hair down (althought less often because he thinks the braid makes him look cool and nice). They have a blue decoration to tie at the end of the braid, it's from Yue, Zuko gave it to them. He always has it on him.

Well, I think we're done. I had a lot of things to say :3 If you ever redraw any of those (don't forget to give credit of course) don't hesitate about harrassing me on every social media so I'll see it xD (my instagram is @/he.artane). And as always, feel free to ask any questions!

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odetogyus · 3 years

Text

ropes

↳pairing/s: boyfriend!seungcheol x fem!reader (w/ ceo!jaebeom on the side)

↳genre: angst

↳warnings: slight suggestive content, profanity, mentions of infidelity, mentions of death

↳song: apologize by timbaland

✎author's note: not my best work but this oneshot has been sitting in my notes for the longest time, and after hours of contemplating on whether or not I should post my works here.. well, I finally gave in. hope you find this, and I hope it makes you feel something.

—

It's been almost a year.

It's been almost a year since the last time she woke up next to him.

It's been almost a year since the last time he came home to her.

It's been almost a year.

Since the last time they kept their promise to each other.

“Seungcheol, don’t you ever break my heart. Don’t you dare break me.”

"The day I hurt you, is the day I die with the regret of breaking your heart, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

But, Choi Seungcheol most definitely did not die with the regret of breaking her heart.

Instead, he watched her suffer from a good distance until she nearly lost everything– breaking from the inside out, with the regret of loving him.

—

The media and pretty much the entire country loved them as a couple, and after "careful" consideration, the two agreed that it would be best for the both of them to remain in the relationship– but just for show. And since Seungcheol believed that he had the upper-hand in the relationship, he paid little to no attention to his lover's feelings or opinions– leaving her with nothing but the name tag “Choi Seungcheol's Girlfriend”, highlighted in bold colours attached invisibly on her sleeve.

Their shared apartment was nothing but hollow bones and haunted memories.

Y/N L/N, who ended up keeping their once shared apartment after weeks of thinking about her boyfriend’s offer for her to stay, was tightly bound to shackles– the shackles that were everything Choi Seungcheol.

Being an editor for a men’s magazine had its perks, but Y/N never truly delved into the hole of the unfaithful. Well.. not yet, at least.

Meanwhile, Choi Seungcheol– full-time idol, rapper, and producer, lounged at his new place–an apartment unit right next to the one he once shared with his girlfriend. If you could even call her that.

Nothing seemed to bother the superstar other than the fact that he had to make tough choices every night when it came to who he was going to sleep with, and how long he would keep her around.

But, everything changes.

And they weren’t ready for that.

—

The photographers swarmed around the newly promoted editor-in-chief of the famous print, Men's Health Korea.

A tight body-con dress in fiery red hugged her body in all the right places. With her hair down and styled in loose waves, a sexy neutral lip, red bottoms, and a 6-figure designer handbag, no one would ever think that the glamorous and beloved Y/N L/N was a prisoner in her own relationship.

Except for one person.

Men's Health Korea's boss, and the youngest CEO in the editorial industry–the conglomerate son, Lim Jaebeom.

Standing next to each other at the podium set up right outside their headquarters, CEO Lim addressed Ms. Y/N L/N's promotion with so much passion and admiration.

“There is no one more deserving..” the CEO bit his lip and paused, staring lovingly at the beautiful woman beside him, racking his brain for words to say about his new editor-in-chief. “Than our lovely Ms. Y/N L/N. Congratulations! I cannot wait to work with the best of the best. Please give her love and wish her the best of luck. Thank you, everyone!"

And with that, the woman of the hour graced everyone with her presence by saying a few words of gratitude to the attendees of the surprise, and very last minute press-con.

“Wow.. I can’t really thank everyone enough for coming. I know that this was organized at the very last minute, but I would like to thank you all for coming. To my staff, my team, we did it. To every single employee working for Men's Health Korea, we did well. And to my boss, my CEO– our CEO, Mr. Lim, thank you for trusting me. I am looking forward to working right beside you from now on. Again, thank you all for coming! Please wish me luck, thank you so much."

Reporters and photographers from various media outlets desperately tried to get the CEO and the EIC's attention, and as expected from the ever charismatic and generous man that he was, Lim Jaebeom happily obliged to answer a few questions.

And.. maybe, he shouldn’t have.

But what was there to stop him?

He had nothing to lose.

But another man sure had.

—

Watching the news was never important to him, but it was now– after seeing another man stare at his girlfriend the way he used to.

Quickly grabbing the remote control next to him to put the volume all the way up, Seungcheol froze in place while his playmate from the night before straddled his lap, leaving dirty bites on his neck for breakfast.

Listening carefully, the celebrity’s eyes and ears never left the screen– his mind going through a million things by the minute.

Reporter: Mr. Lim, could you tell us a bit about the turning point for you in regards to Ms. L/N's promotion? And.. do you have a girlfriend at the moment, Sir? The people would like to know.

CEO Lim: Well, Y/N– I'm sorry, Ms. L/N– has been working for Men's Health Korea for 5 years now, and I have to admit, that I have never seen or met someone with the same drive as her when it comes to writing articles. She's truly an asset to the company, and to me.

Reporter: Mr. Lim, you have yet to answer the last question.. in regards to your dating life. Also, you referred to Ms. L/N as your asset. What exactly do you mean by that? And, a question for Ms. L/N, the press would like to know about your current relationship status. Your long-time boyfriend, Choi Seungcheol, was not present at today’s press-con, nor have we seen the two of you around together. Have you two called it quits?

At that very moment, Choi Seungcheol found himself in complete distress. Not only was his girlfriend being undressed and devoured by another man’s gaze, but their real relationship status was also at risk.

CEO Lim: Ah, yes. You're a quick one, aren’t you? Ms. L/N is an asset to me because let’s be honest here, shall we? If you’re ever in the same position as I am.. you know– blessed to know and work with someone as hardworking, bright, genuine, supportive, beautiful, and kind– would you not think of that person as an asset? Think about it.

Members of the press whispered amongst themselves and agreed with the CEO's positive remarks about his chief editor.

But the man in apartment unit 17 was not having it. He wasn’t ready to face the truth, and he wasn’t ready to lose her.

He just wasn’t ready for anything at all.

Reporter: Thank you, Mr. Lim. Ms. L/N? Would you like to answer the question?

Praying hard that his girlfriend would not reveal the truth about their status, SEVENTEEN's leader, Choi Seungcheol, felt his eyes prickle with tears as his old lover rose to the podium once more to finally answer the questions asked by the press.

“Please.. don’t,” Seungcheol muttered under his breath, not giving a damn about the woman from the night before that had already left his apartment in annoyance.

Smiling sweetly, Y/N held onto the microphone carefully, as if preparing herself for the worst. Her gaze was strong, but her tears were on its way down her cheeks.

That was the final straw, the last teardrop.

The end of the rope.

Editor L/N: Again, thank you all for coming. I think.. that this needs to be said, sooner than later. But, Choi Seungcheol and I are no longer together. I am now.. single, and I hope that answers your question.

Seungcheol's heart broke after hearing the painful words his girlfriend– now ex, just said.

Editor L/N: I will not discuss private matters with everyone, because my relationship with him remains between us only. But, I will say this. We all hold onto the ropes of life, and sometimes, we might just have to let go of some, especially if they’re hurting us. But no matter what, we should always choose the better climb for ourselves, and our future. To my former partner, thank you.. for everything. I wish you all the best, I truly mean that. Please continue to give Seungcheol and the rest of SEVENTEEN your love and support! Thank you to everyone that came today!

To say that he crumbled from the inside out was an understatement. He felt defeated– and boy, he really was, and it stung so much that the pain he felt was unbearable.

Everyone present at the press-con had their lips sealed, but had their eyes glued onto the face of the woman who no longer wanted to hold onto the ropes that bound her to a miserable life as Choi Seungcheol’s girlfriend.

It was a bittersweet moment for Y/N L/N– breaking away from the shackles that were once loving arms, and moving forward freely without any restraints.

No one dared to say a thing, and with every bit of confidence in his body, the conglomerate son stood from his seat, and spoke.

CEO Lim: Now that I think about it.. I believe I have one unanswered question.

Reporter: Apologies, Mr. Lim.. but, please.

CEO Lim: So, about me dating..

All eyes were on the CEO now, but Seungcheol only had eyes for her– watching his ex-lover’s gaze go up from the floor to her boss’ face.

It was the day he would dread forever, but he never prepared himself for that.

“Please don’t.. don’t love her, she’s mine,” he pleaded, but he could only beg a man he never really knew, from where he sat. In his living room, far from where she was– helpless, and wrecked to the core.

CEO Lim: I’m not dating anyone.. at the moment. But if you really want to know, I’ll tell you this much. The woman I am in love with had just been promoted as Chief Editor. She’s the one I would want to date, the one I want to give the world to. And, she’s sitting right there. I’ll let you guys put two and two together, but have a good day everyone, thanks for coming.

It was at that very moment, that Choi Seungcheol remembered the promise he had made a while ago. And seeing the hope in her eyes as she stared back at Lim Jaebeom, made him realize that it was just too late to undo everything. There was nothing he could do to stitch their love together, because the love they once had was dead and gone.

The day I hurt you, is the day I die with the regret of breaking your heart.

And so he relived the day where they promised each other the world– keeping his end of the rope that was long broken because of his mistakes.

Choi Seungcheol clutched his chest and cried himself to death– crying over a forgotten promise, and dying slowly with the regret of breaking her heart.

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soulmate-game · 4 years

Text

The format is slightly off because I hate formatting on this app, so if you want a better experience then read the chapter on AO3. Without further ado, Chapter 12 of The Heroes’ Game.

Chapter 12 AO3

—*—*—*—*—*

“So. This is the useless, goo-minded model of an ex-friend who decided to suddenly regrow the spine that had spontaneously combusted two years ago?”

“That was three insults in ten seconds, Marinette,” Adrien pointed out, eyebrows high on his face, the blond impressed.

“I forgot to say spoiled.”

“Wow. You weren’t kidding,” Adrien shook his head, smiling slightly. “We can never let him and Kagami meet. They would be unstoppable.”

Marinette, who finally decided to stop holding back her beaming smile, laughed cheerfully. “Also, this is Damian’s brother Tim,” she gestured to the slightly older man, who smiled politely and waved from his place in the passenger’s seat of the luxury car. Marinette was sat in the middle of the car’s back row, one rich green-eyed teenage heir to either side of her.

“Also, Marinette,” Damian took hold of the conversation as Adrien introduced himself to his elder brother. “I notice you are wearing a new necklace. Any particular reason? It does not look like your usual style.”

The pigtailed girl blinked, rubbing her hand over the simple silver chain that held Chat Noir’s ring under her shirt. It took all her willpower to not cast a glance at Adrien as she ran her fingertips over it.

“It isn’t, but a family friend gave me an heirloom of his for good luck,” she said slowly, testing out the lie that Tikki had helped her create the previous night. “I decided to put it on a chain and wear it under my clothes. Something tells me that I’ll need all the luck I can get this week.”

Plagg was a bit grumpy at his ring being told to be a good luck charm when the truth was the exact opposite, but he had been suitably ignored by both Tikki and Marinette. The cat Kwami took a little too much pride in his unlucky and destructive powers.

“So, I couldn’t help but notice you mentioned a Kagami. That wouldn’t happen to be the Olympic gold medalist fencer Kagami Tsurugi, who is rumored to be studying in Paris to improve her skills, would it?” Tim asked, turning in his seat to face the teenagers in the back. Marinette and Adrien both smiled widely, nearly blinding both Wayne’s present.

“Oh yeah, that’s her,” Adrien confirmed, nearly bouncing in his seat. “She and I actually became soulmates almost four months ago,” Adrien pulled up his sleeve to show the stylized foil in stunning maroon on his arm. “She says I’m one of the only people who can still keep up with her in a spar. She’s ruthless,” Adrien’s face just got dreamier as he spoke. “She isn’t the best at socializing, but me, Marinette, and some of our other friends have been helping her out. She didn’t exactly get the best childhood, being raised to be the best fencer possible and compete at the Olympics and all. Kagami’s mom isn’t exactly the most friendly person you’ll ever meet, but somehow Marinette worked her magic,” Adrien chuckled a bit at the memory. “She just has this— this natural ability, I guess. Marinette, I mean. She knows exactly what to say and do in order to get someone to realize the mistakes they’re making. She had two conversations with Tsurugi-San. Two. And even though Kagami’s mom hasn't completely changed, she’s a lot more lenient now and actually makes an effort to be more sensitive in how she treats Kagami. That’s why I’ve always considered Marinette to be our every-day Ladybug,” he turned and offered the girl he was trying to earn the forgiveness of a small, sad smile. “Even if I haven’t really expressed that enough lately.”

“Every day ladybug?” Tim asked, eyebrow raised. Marinette had her head in her hands out of embarrassment.

“Adrien, nooooo!”

She was ignored.

The blond in the car nodded, eyes wide and shining with innocent enthusiasm. “Oh yeah. So Ladybug is Paris’s hero, right? She always manages to save the day, turn everything back to normal, and always looks after the city. But Marinette is like our hero without a costume. She always cares about our emotions, does her best to solve problems even for strangers, and cares about everyone she meets. She put together this whole trip— sure, it was funded because of the contest, but we never would have been able to come without Marinette’s planning and foresight. She did all this even though the majority of the class isn’t on good terms with her anymore. She had no obligation to do any of this for us, she could have just asked to come by herself, but she did all of it anyway. Because she cares even for people who aren’t nice to her.”

“Nobody deserves to just stay in Paris when they have an option to escape for a while,” Marinette argued, frowning. “It’s a toxic prison with HawkMoth running around. Regardless of how the class treats me, everyone deserves a break from that.”

Adrien just gestured to Marinette with his eyebrows raised as if to say, ‘you see?’

“I didn’t realize you were this much of a boot-licker,” Damian sneered, eyes narrowed and distrusting towards the blond model. “Marinette may not have been able to tell me everything, but simple observation can fill in the blanks. You were a limp noodle around the liar just yesterday, and while I do not doubt that what you say about Miss Dupain-Cheng is true, it sounds far too close to flattery for my liking. She may be kind and forgiving, but let me assure you that I do not accept a traitor’s words so easily. You were clearly a cowardly slime just earlier this week, all fake smiles and weak assurances,” the Wayne heir leaned forward so his dark, piercing green eyes locked with Adrian’s own acidic ones. “How do I know you will not turn tail again? Abandon Marinette as soon as something difficult comes along again? Why are you here, Agreste?”

The fencer’s lips thinned, and he clasped his hands between his knees without breaking eye contact. “I was stupid,” he admitted, sounding far more tired than anyone their age should have to. “I was distracted. My home life isn’t the best, never has been. Pretty much all my experience in social interaction comes from these past three years in school with Marinette and the others. And no, that’s not an excuse. I knew Lila was lying, but I didn’t know how toxic it was. How toxic it would get. And when my father gave me the ultimatum to stay on Lila’s good side, I wasn’t brave enough to say no,” Adrian finally broke eye contact and looked down at his entwined hands. He clenched them tighter as he thought about the past week in Gotham. “But I got sick over the weekend. I’m still a little sick, but I’m getting better now. And I think it— the weakness, how bad I was feeling… suddenly waking up this morning feeling so much better physically helped me realize how empty I felt. I usually ignore it in Paris because I can’t afford to get Akumatized. I wouldn’t forgive myself,” his jaw clenched. “But here, far away from HawkMoth, I finally saw it. Life in Paris sucks right now. The atmosphere in the class is draining. And I realized the only light in it still was being hurt, and I had ignored it. I called Kagami, she helped me realize just how badly I screwed up. I didn’t even realize the environment I had just left Marinette in, pretty much alone. I made a huge mistake,” he raised his eyes back up to Damian’s, the acidic, verdant eyes burning with new, renewed, determination. “I won’t make it again.”

“Tt. See to it that you don’t, or I will.”

“Oh, you didn’t mention he’d make a threat in the first ten minutes! We definitely should never let him and Kagami meet.”

“Stay intimidated you damn inconsistent ape!”

—*—*—*—*—*

“Everyone split up into teams. We’ll be going in groups of five, if you don’t want to participate you can stick to the top rows of bleachers,” the coach was instructing everyone gathered in the gym. Madame Bustier translated for those of the students who didn’t speak fluent English. It didn’t take long for Lila and her closest crew to move up to the topmost bleachers and away from the risk of being drafted to play basketball.

Why would Lila risk breaking a nail for sports, after all?

Marinette, on the other hand, still had a lot of energy to get rid of even if she had gone freerunning not that long ago with Robin and Red Hood. The ring sitting warmly against her chest did not at all help, its resonance with her earrings almost overflowing her with power and energy she was wholly unused to. She needed to vent it somehow, even if just a little.

She didn’t think about how a lesser person would have already been consumed by that energy.

The second the coach asked for volunteers for team captain, Marinette had never risen her hand faster for something. Nobody else had a chance (except Jon, but she didn’t have to know that. The kryptonian boy hadn’t made much effort anyway). The coach smiled widely.

“Good, someone with enthusiasm! Wanna make it a Paris against Gotham game? Choose your team Dupain-Cheng. Wayne, you’ll captain the opposing team.”

Marinette smiled widely in triumph, standing and immediately picking her team as her hand moved alongside her voice, pointing out her chosen teammates. “Alix, Kim, Ivan, Ad—if you’re feeling up to it, Adrien. If not, I can—“

“No, I’m good,” Adrien held up a hand to stop his pigtailed friend from devolving into stutters as he stood up. “I won’t get better lying around, anyway. Just go easy on me, Boss.”

Marinette chuckled at that, turning to see who Damian had chosen. Jon, to nobody’s surprise. Four other people Marinette only vaguely recognized from classes. They all looked athletic and not too intimidated by the Ice Prince, which made the Parisian designer suitably wary of the group as they went to the center of the court to get started.

“We’ll let the Paris team start this time, as a welcome to America,” the coach decided, handing the ball to Mari. He backed up until he was no longer in the way, and both teams got into their positions. “Ready… start!”

Marinette’s eyes flew, knowing everyone was waiting for her first move. Plan, plan— aha! Her lips curled into a smirk, and without warning she darted straight towards Damian’s team.

The ex-assassin wasn’t about to let her go that easily though, of course, and ran straight to intercept her. Only, she took advantage of the way Jon almost instinctively followed Damian to cover his back, and tossed the ball around her green-eyed pursuer straight at the spectacled boy. Jon’s eyes widened, and he smiled. He thought for sure Mari had miscalculated, and put forth a burst of speed to catch the ball headed towards his chest—

Only for a blur of yellow to fly right in front of him, snagging the ball and carrying it further into the Gotham team’s side of the court. Jon pursued Adrien, who passed to Kim. The seasoned athlete had already skirted around the distracted crowd to end up close to the basket, and dunked the ball as soon as he caught it.

Paris, 2. Gotham, 0.

Damian instantly whipped his head to stare at his soulmate, who had her arms crossed as she grinned at him smugly.

That kind of wordless teamwork didn’t come out of nowhere though, and Damian felt his eyes narrow. If Chat was Adrien, and he and Marinette had started off such a seamless play, then his suspicions just got another support beam to hold them up. Maybe he would put effort into this game after all.

“Jon, don’t follow me so closely. Marinette took advantage of you not watching your own back, stay observant,” he told his friend, a clear double meaning behind his last two words. Jon raised two perfectly black brows, as if silently asking are you telling me to cheat?

Damian only nodded, dribbling the ball he had been handed as the teams went back to the center.

Even with Jon tuning into his super senses to keep a better eye on the game, so to speak, they ended up tied at the end of fifteen minutes.

20-20

Both teams made swift scores, but it was clear Damian and Jon were carrying their team while the Paris team was well rounded with Marinette and Adrien just slightly advanced leaders that they took silent cues from.

Marinette was beaming widely as she breathed heavily, but wasn’t nearly as out of breath as her teammates. Adrien was so exhausted from his “illness” that he ended up sitting out the sudden death.

It was down to Marinette and Damian glaring each other down in adrenaline-fueled glee as the coach held the ball in one hand, counting down. At zero, he tossed the ball up and both secret vigilantes lunged.

Marinette jumped higher, managing to smack the ball first and get it into Alix’s grip. Their ball.

SHE AND Damian both races, following the skater as she ran towards the Gotham Team’s goal. Alix was blocked. Ivan was being covered by two of Damian’s teammates, Kim by another. Alix had no choice but to pass to Marinette, but Damian was able to pull forward at just the right time to snag the ball.

Marinette leaped backwards a good several feet, never taking her eyes off the emerald eyed teen. He put up a valiant defense, but Marinette managed to slap the ball away from him and dribbled it back to the right side of the court.

Only to stop dead. She was surrounded, the three point line was ahead of her, none of her teammates were free. If Adrian had been in play, maybe… Jon was closing in front her left, she had to move before he or Damian closed in on her.

So she took a deep breath, jumped straight up as high as she could go, and threw.

The ball swished through the net, and the students actually watching roared in surprised and impressed shouts of approval.

The Asian-French girl instantly got mobbed with hugs from her teammates, her head tilted back as she laughed in pure glee.

Bluebell met emerald.

Marinette winked. “Guess Paris is just better huh, Wayne?”

He would be lying if he said seeing her so breathlessly happy didn’t leave him similarly winded. Almost blinded by her brightness.

Yeah, he thought. You were pretty spot on back then. You must be my personal Angel. I don’t know what else you could possibly be.

—*—*—*—*—*

A Valkyrie, Damian decided. Marinette must be a Valkyrie. A warrior angel who chose the dead from a battlefield to be taken to Valhalla.

Why?

Because he was a Wayne, and as a Wayne he had several people (read: hundreds) who would like nothing better than to kidnap and ransom him to his father.

Like now. The Riddler had caught him, Jon, Marinette, Adrien, and several others as soon as school ended. He was the only real target, but Riddler never turned down extra bait. He wasn’t as tough on teenagers as he was adults, but that didn’t mean lives weren’t still on the line.

“Alright, kiddies. I’m a fair guy,” lies, “and I got a soft spot for kids. So, you can stay here obediently until Brucie boy up in his Tower sends me my money, or the Bats comes to his doom. Either way, you’ll be let out scott free afterwards. Or, you can leave,” he gestured towards the door in the lair they were in that proudly boasted a glowing red EXIT sign. “Any time you want,” he told them, smiling sinisterly. Because, of course, the only way to the exit was past a puzzle.

“In order to leave, you just have to possess at least two brain cells to rub together. I know, a hard feat nowadays to manage. To get to the exit, you have to find a way past the trick wall in front of you. Just fair warning, every wall is a trick wall so don’t try to pull any fancy tricks. Each brick is either safe, a deterrent, or a trick. And be careful, tricks can either give you a paper cut or a haircut a few inches too low to cut only hair, if you can understand my meaning. If you were smart, you’d just stay put.”

And Damian stared at his Soulmate, who didn’t even know he was right then, as she was the only one standing as the rest of them sat. Damian and Jon were seated because they knew Batman and co. Would be coming soon to bail them out, and neither boy could risk outing their identity. All of them had their wrists zip tied behind their backs, but that didn’t seem to stop Marinette from staying standing up defiantly and analyzing their surroundings.

“Are you gonna just stand there, or do something, little girl?” Riddler’s voice came back over the speakers. He wasn’t in the room with them, communicating over an intercom and attached TV screen. “Is your bravado all for show, or do you actually plan to escape?”

Marinette turned her glare to the live feed on the flat screen.

“I’m not the one hiding in a separate bunker, Riddler,” she retorted calmly. She was in a room with only Damian, Jon, a few of her friends, and walls of potentially dangerous traps. There were no gunmen this time. No immediate threats. Marinette could let a little Ladybug through this time.

Her hands twitched with an urge to punch something that was just being amplified by the ring around her neck.

Maybe a little Lady Noir could come through too, for a change.

Riddler twitched, and Damian could only stare as his soulmate stared down a Gotham rogue and even insulted him without hesitation or fear in her stance or face.

“Marinette!” Alix hissed, tugging at the girl’s uniform pants. “Get down! We’ll get out of here soon enough, don’t upset the supervillain!” She begged her friend. Marinette looked down at the pinkette, frowning.

“No, Alix! He isn’t even brave enough to fight his own battles, he lets puzzles and traps and hostages do his dirty work. I’m not about to sit down and let him treat me like I’m some helpless little kid. I stay quiet enough at school,” she hissed back softly, not about to back down this time. The bit about their class made Ivan and Kim flinch, along with Max and Juleka, who had also been taken. Adrien would have flinched, but the basketball game alone had drained him of all his recovering stamina for the day. This added stress was getting to him.

The blond, who had been eerily silent, started to cough. The pigtailed rebel of the group instantly turned to him, her face paper white as the model couldn’t seem to stop coughing. Specks of blood dipped out of his palms that were covering his mouth. and onto the ground.

“Shit,” Damian cursed. Jon wrapped an arm around the smaller boy, trying to get him to calm down and take deep breaths.

“There. Slow and steady,” Jon whispered to Adrien. “I knew you were sick, bud, but I didn’t think it was this bad. No worries though, we’ll get you checked out as soon as we get outta here,” he assured the fencer before looking up and locking eyes with Marinette. She nodded.

“Even more of a reason to get out as soon as possible instead of waiting around. Adrien needs a doctor. Max, is Markov..?”

The techie shook his head. “Back at the hotel, along with my better tech. My phone was taken.”

The pigtailed teen sighed, but wasn’t surprised. She reached up and took out the ribbons in her hair, tying them together and ignoring the unusual feel of her hair being loose behind her neck. It was usually something reserved for bedtime, but she wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

“Alix, you have your roller blades on you, right?” The pinkette blinked in surprise before nodding, pulling the objects out of her bag.

“Yeah, why?”

Marinette didn’t answer, taking only one shoe and popping off two wheels. Alix made a face, but didn’t complain.

“Ivan, you carry around extra hair supplies for Mylene, right?” She held out a hand without waiting for an answer. “Could you give me some rubber bands?”

Holding her tied-together ribbons in her mouth, Marinette quickly tied the two rollerblade wheels together with the rubber bands, and tied her ribbons around the rubber bands to make them into a sort of axel. Makeshift yo-yo. She grinned, rolling the improvised weapon up and turning to the wall.

“What are you doing?” Damian asked slowly, standing to cover her back. Jon could watch the civilians just fine, he wasn’t leaving his soulmate without an extra pair of eyes just in case. Marinette was rapidly scanning the wall separating them from the exit.

“The wall is a puzzle, which means there has to be a pattern. All the bricks look pretty much the same, but we should be able to find the pattern without touching the wall if we look hard enough. We don’t have that kind of time though, so I’m going the old-fashioned trial-and-error way.”

“What?” Damian barked, but didn’t get in her way. “You can’t be that reckless—“

“I’m not going to touch the wall,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes. “This is,” she used that moment to swing her makeshift yo-yo at a brick above everyone’s heads. It pressed in, and nothing happened. It just slid back to make a step. Marinette grinned, rewinding her DIY tweaking and swinging it at the brick right next to the safe one, which swung away to reveal a muzzle that shot a stream of fire above everyone’s heads. “Predictable,” she muttered with a triumphant grin. “If I’m right, anyway. This could just be beginner’s luck.” She rewound and swung the ribbon-wheel-rubber band contraption a few more times, setting off only a few more traps. The solution printed itself in her mind.

Damian’s eyebrows raised, recognizing the pattern she was creating— or tracing— with her weighted whip. For a long moment, though only the other people in the room noticed, the two soulmates wore identical smug smirks.

“You got it,” Damian whispered, impressed and pleased before he surged forward. “Here, Get the lower ones. Your whip won’t reach the top of the wall, I’ll climb up and get those,” he offered, turning to make sure he had her approval. The girl’s face twisted into reluctance, clearly not wanting to put him in danger. The youngest Wayne put a hand on her shoulder, offering her a solid nod of reassurance. “I’ll be fine. I know the pattern now, and I have a fast reaction speed just in case. We also need someone to make sure there aren’t thugs waiting on the other side just in case, and I have a decent background in martial arts. Riddler doesn’t usually lie about his puzzles, but you can never be too careful with a Rogue.”

Marinette’s lips thinned again, but she nodded. A few thuds of her improvised weapon later, and Damian had the footholds necessary to climb up and press the bricks that were too high to reach.

The pattern made a question mark right in the center of the wall, but the top two rows of bricks before the empty space above the wall were all trick stones, meaning Damian had to carefully heave himself over and onto the platform waiting for them on top of the trapped obstacle. He took a quick look around before nodding to himself and looking down.

“All clear! Send Adrien up first,” he called, holding his arm down so he could help the Agreste heir when he got high enough. “Be careful not to press against these stones, you’ll set off a trap. When you pull yourselves over, keep your body straight and away from the wall,” the civilian-dressed vigilante instructed after they all successfully helped Adrien over onto the platform. Behind them, Riddler was suspiciously quiet and the TV didn’t turn back on.

They soon found out why. Only Marinette, Jon, and Max were still on the wrong side of the puzzle wall when a hidden door was kicked in and Batman stormed in alongside Red Robin. Both vigilantes froze at the sight of the unharmed teens already almost out. Marinette waved to them sheepishly, and Damian groaned.

“You mean there was a door there the whole time?” He groused, annoyed.

“It’s for the best,” Red Robin told him, shaking his head. “The riddler’s bunker was back there, and it’s a dead end unless you wanna squeeze through broken windows. Red Hood is tying him up right now, he’ll come out behind us. Though, we didn’t expect you all to already be almost out.”

Batman shot his grapple at the top of the wall, beckoning to Max and Marinette as Jon scrambled up the solved puzzle wall. “Let’s make this go by faster.”

Ten minutes later, and everyone was out. Red Hood manhandled Riddler away to the cops, and for the second time on their trip Marinette and her friends found school blankets settled over their shoulders.

“Well,” Max started, blinking. “I kinda expected worse, actually.”

Juleka nodded, tilting her head. “Yeah, that was kinda… tame…”

Marinette sighed, looking over at the two. “Of course,” she answered shortly, no longer patient with her classmates (no longer friends) now that they were all out of danger. “Riddler has a known soft spot for kids, and this was just a ransom scheme. Riddler’s actually been reforming for the past few years too, he most likely just had a relapse. None of his schemes for the past two years have been nearly as convoluted as beforehand and they are all months apart. Which you would know if you did my suggested research into Gotham’s rogues that I gave you before the trip,” she told them monotonously. She was done coddling them, they didn’t seem nearly as phased by this Riddler fiasco as they did by the failed robbery the week before. Then again, no guns or deaths were involved this time.

“That is correct, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Though I was hoping we wouldn’t see each other again so soon,” Batman spoke, approaching the group of teens as Hood and Red Robin explained things to the cops present. “But the puzzle was still something that should have taken at least an hour to solve. Good work doing it so quickly. And your improvisation is also impressive.”

Marinette blushed, looking down at the contraption she still hadn’t taken apart. “It’s nothing. I know the kinds of things my classmates always carry around, and I knew we needed something weighted to trigger the bricks, so…”

Batman grinned, a quick and very small thing that Marinette was sure she hallucinated. “Still, good work using your brain and keeping a cool head. You made our job easier. But let’s both try to keep any more excitement like this from happening on your trip.”

Marinette laughed, nodding. “I don’t know what I can do to help with that, but I’ll do my best anyway.”

—*—*—*—*—*

That night, after their daily spar, Robin braced his hands on his knees and panted. He was exhausted despite the fact that their bodies weren’t actually real in their mental world, and the physical strain was all simulated. Marinette had actually won, for the first time since they had begun the daily practice.

“Woo!” Marinette raised her fists in sloppy victory, just as out of breath as Robin. “I must be on a roll today! Lucky!”

“You’re Ladybug,” Robin suddenly blurted out. Normally he would have tensed at the slip, but for some reason the admission of his suspicion felt normal. Casual. Right. So he remained relaxed. Marinette went silent, looking over at him with a straight face for a long second before her lips slightly curled up at the corners.

“And you’re Damian, right?” She shot back, her voice soft and gentle. They looked into each other’s eyes as they continued to pant, both of their accusations in the open between them now.

Neither of them claimed to be innocent.

And that was okay. For some reason, neither of them minded that their identities had been found out. Maybe they had known for a few days, now. But they spent every night together, every sleeping hour in each other’s presence. They sparred. They gamed. Marinette was trying to teach him how to cook, and he was trying to teach her swordplay.

They knew each other pretty well, for only having met twelve days ago. And they had a lifetime to keep getting to know each other. This was just the next step. The next piece of knowledge to fill out the puzzle of who their soulmate was.

And it felt right to have it filled in, officially.

—*—*—*—*—*

#maribat #mlb x dc #daminette #The Heroes’ Game

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katahnisharma · 5 years

Text

the press tour [5] | t.h.

Word Count: 2.5 K

Warnings: none, i don’t think??

Summary: You’re a new, inexperienced actress plucked from the obscurity of everyday life to play the lead in the reboot of a famous British Jane Austen novel, and Tom Holland just so happens to be playing your love interest.

A/N: This one is a mini chapter so it’s shorter, but next week’s will be longer. Also Tumblr apparently won’t let me link things so if you’re looking for my masterlist, playlist, taglist, or writing challenge it’s in my bio <3

Tom Holland and Zendaya Officially Together! Is Marriage on the Cards?

“Ugh! It’s on BBC too?! I thought they had journalistic integrity!!”

For the past two days, every news channel had been carrying Tom and Zendaya’s whirlwind romance. Everywhere you looked, there were pictures of the two of them being cute somewhere. Out to lunch, taking a stroll in New York City holding hands, kissing in Paris, even posing for photos with fans at Central Park. It hurt every time you turned on the TV, it was like you were intentionally trying to see the new reports. You were shocked Tom had moved on so quickly, and with the girl he had always said he felt nothing for.

Guess that was a lie.

There were so many thoughts running through your mind about Tomdaya that you didn’t hear Bailey come down the stairs and stand next to you with her hands on her hips.

“That’s it, you need to leave the house. You haven’t moved from this couch in two days. You need to get out and date.” She said, pulling the blanket off you. You winced and glared at her, snatching the blanket back. You were also clutching a near empty tub of Haagen-Daz cookie dough ice cream, but you had mixed reactions about it because the brand was apparently Zendaya’s favorite.

Wow, you were petty.

“Really? What, just like that?” You muttered, poking around the tub with your spoon. You’d been picking out the cookie dough bits, and Bailey used to tease you for it. She thought it was stupid that you bought ice cream just to pick at it, but now it just made her sad. You looked so tired and upset, it was killing her.

“What, like it’s hard? You’re Y/N Y/L/N! All you have to do is bat your eyelashes. flash a smile and you’re set!” Bailey cried, sitting next to you and throwing the tub over your shoulder. You let out a yell, but she pulled you back before you could go find it. She looked at you and you felt yourself shrink from her eyes. You knew she was right, but you weren’t over Tom yet. Your heart needed time to heal.

“Fine, give me some time to get over him and I’ll do it. But I’ll only date on one condition.” You said, and Bailey let out a sigh of relief. If it meant you would finally leave the house and get out a bit, she would do whatever it took. She leaned forward and motioned for you to continue.

“You have to date too.” You smiled, and Bailey immediately recoiled. She jumped up from the sofa and began to pace around the TV. You watched her, rolling your eyes at how dramatic she was being.

“Yeah, no. No, absolutely not!” Bailey said, standing in front of you shaking her head emphatically. You got up and threw the tub in the trash. Surprisingly, you felt a little lighter having done it, and you turned back to see Bailey staring out the window.

“Too bad then. Bumble would have been perfect for you. The women get to pick the men, which is perfect for a powerful, independent woman like you. No more creeps and losers. Plus, I mean Priyanka Chopra created it so....” You said, and you swore Bailey perked up a little. She turned to look at you and she pursed her lips.

“Shut up, you’re just trying to flatter me. And you know I love Priyanka.” She whispered, and you laughed for the first time in a while. You had almost forgotten what that sounded like.

“Well, duh. Is it working?” You giggled, and Bailey threw a pillow at you which just narrowly missed. You threw it back and it hit the vase that held Tom’s lilies. They were dying anyways, and the vase hit the floor and shattered. You weren’t one to believe in signs, but it seemed like one.

“Yes. Alright, I’ll think about it. Now get up, the Met Gala is in three days and you need to meet with designers.” Bailey said, giving you a dress to change into. You took it and realized it was the same one you had worn on the date with Tom. Bailey saw the look and gave you a “come on, just wear it” look, and you weren’t about to argue with her while she was considering dating for the first time in five years.

“On it, boss. I’ll be back in a bit.”

✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦✦✧✦

Three days later and you were standing in front of the mirror, completely taken aback at your appearance. There you were, looking ethereal in a custom Maison Valentino gown and your makeup done to perfection. The theme for the Met Gala was Ethereal Fairytales, and Pier Paolo Piccioli had outdone himself. Your inspiration was Rapunzel, and you couldn’t be happier with it. The dress was a light purple satin that draped to the floor in a long train. The sleeves were a light chiffon that extended into a lacey, embroidered cape in the back. The rest of the dress was done in brocade, with jewels and flowers sewn into the fabric. With the lace and embroidery, the gown looked much heavier than it was. In reality, it was so light that you felt you were wearing feathers.

“You look so beautiful!” Bailey squealed, clapping her hands behind you. You turned and smiled, thanking Pier for his handiwork. Bailey looked gorgeous herself. She was wearing a strapless pale pink Stella McCartney dress with clear sequins. When you had asked her to come with you to the gala, she’d nearly had a heart attack. And then she had pulled out the only formal dress she had, and your heart nearly broke. Bailey hadn’t bought a new dress in years, though you knew you paid her enough for designer clothes. All the money she made went back to her family, keeping only what she needed to survive.

So you bought the dress for her, whatever she liked. At first, Bailey protested and refused to wear it. She thought it was far too extravagant and she felt embarrassed that you were spending all this money on her. But you assured her that she deserved it, she was the world’s best personal assistant. Plus, Priyanka Chopra was going to be there and she had to look stunning in case they bumped into each other.

They weren’t actually going to “bump into each other,'' you'd asked Priyanka if she would mind meeting Bailey at some point in the night. But Bailey didn’t have to know that. As far as she knew, the meeting would be purely kismet.

“You think so? I feel like a goddess.” You whispered, and Pier nodded in agreement. Bailey took your hand and twirled you around. The dress moved with you, and it made the most beautiful sweeping motion. Your hair was curled slightly and left half up and half down, and somehow Christian Louboutin had gifted you a pair of Degrastrass. Bailey had done her own makeup, she insisted upon it, but you bought her a pair of nude Sandale du Deserts which you wouldn’t let her refuse.

“Well, you look like one. And thank you for letting me come, and spending all this money on me. You shouldn’t have.” She whispered and you slung and arm over her shoulder.

“You don’t have to thank me, we’re best friends first and foremost. I wanted you here, and as for the money it was no big deal at all. I’m just glad you actually agreed to wear everything.” You laughed, and she nudged you slightly. You asked Pier to take a picture of the two of you, and he agreed graciously. You’d post it to your instagram later. After Pier had taken a picture of you and you’d grabbed your clutch, the three of you were planning to leave.

That is, until something on the TV caught your attention.

Pier had turned on the live red carpet updates for the Met Gala, because you loved seeing what everyone was wearing. There were some big names at the event, and Bailey had screamed when Nick and Priyanka arrived. The couples of course looked amazing, and you found yourself wishing that you had a date too. You wished you were here with Tom.

And that’s when you saw them.

Tom and Zendaya had stepped out of a limo, and your heart stopped. You almost weren’t breathing as you realized they were wearing coordinated outfits. Law Roach guided them up the steps and Bailey rested a hand on your shoulder to console you. They looked so beautiful together, you almost cried. Then you remembered Nina Park had done your makeup, so you couldn’t cry. Zendaya was wearing a gorgeous blue gown in the style of Princess Tiana’s from the Disney movie The Princess and the Frog. Except it had been elevated, so that the dress was a modern take. The left sleeve was satin and hung from her shoulder and the bodice was lace to match the lace trimmed hem. Tom was so handsome it hurt. He wore a cream colored suit that was trimmed with gold around the edges. A blue sash went across his chest and it accentuated his body. Tears pricked your eyes and you physically willed them away.

You cried for days over Tom, but you refused to do that today.

“You okay?” Bailey asked, and you nodded, straightening up again. Pier stood by the door, giving you a sympathetic look. You knew he meant well, but it rubbed you the wrong way. You didn’t want people to pity you, you wanted them to just see you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go, we’re holding everyone up.” You said, and Pier took your arm to lead you out. Bailey walked behind, making sure your train wouldn’t catch and keeping photographers at a distance. There were lights everywhere, and you could barely focus as the cameras flashed. People shouting your name, telling you to turn, asking you about Tom, it was almost too much. Thank God for Pier, or you would have fainted on the spot. A particularly bold photographer moved forward, jostling to get your attention.

“Y/N! Y/N! How do you feel about Tom and Zendaya?” He yelled, and for a brief moment Bailey looked as though she was about to physically throw him out. But you held up your hand, and tried your best to plaster a smile on your face. Pier steadied you and you gave the photographer a defiant look.

“Why, am I supposed to say something scandalous?” You laughed, and the photographers laughed with you. For the first time in a while, you felt as though you had the upper hand. The photographer went red, but he persisted.

“I mean, how do you feel after Tom dumped you for Zendaya?” He shouted over the noise and your face went slack. You felt sick to your stomach, hearing someone say it for the first time. Sure, you had never officially dated each other, but the man was right. Tom had dumped you for one of the most beautiful women in the world.

Ouch.

“I’m happy for them, Tom and I are just friends. Nothing more. That salacious enough for you?” You asked, and the photographer went silent. Bailey came to your aid and told the photographers to stop asking questions. This wasn’t an interview, she said, and they needed to respect your privacy. Pier took your hand and lead you farther up the carpet. You were still shaking from the encounter, but you forced yourself to smile. Your father had always told you to never let your detractors know they hurt you.

It was a sign of weakness, and you weren’t weak.

“Alright, this stretch is just cameras, Pier will be answering the questions.” Bailey said, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You didn’t think you’d be able to endure any more questions about Tom and Zendaya. Pier stood with you as you posed and looked on as Pier talked about the process involved in creating your dress. From the corner of your eye, you could see Beyonce and Saoirse Ronan climb the stairs behind you. Bailey was watching, completely starstruck.

“See Priyanka anywhere?” You asked and Bailey shook her head.

“No, she’s probably inside with Nick already. It’s fine, it was cool just getting to see her on TV.” Bailey gushed, and Pier helped you up the steps to the top to take your final picture. Bailey stood next to you, because you made her, and you both looked down onto the street below.

“I would never have imagined I’d be here.” You said, and Bailey looked at you. She had more faith in you than you had in yourself, and though she wouldn’t say it aloud, she was extremely proud of you.

“Well, I would have. I know I don’t say this often enough, I’m really proud of you Y/N.” She said, and your mouth dropped a little. Bailey wasn’t one to talk about her feelings, so this was a big deal.

“I love you, you know that right?” You said, and Bailey rolled her eyes. You could see her eyes start to well up, and she dabbed at them lightly.

Awww, what a softie.

“Yeah, yeah. Stop making me cry, my makeup actually looks good today.” Bailey whispered, and she helped you up the stairs as Pier followed. The carpet began to get thinner, until you reached the doors of the Metropolitan. One more step, and you’d be inside one of the biggest events of the year.

“Ready?” Bailey asked, and you smiled at her and Pier.

“As I’ll ever be.” You replied, and with that you walked out of the frying pan and into the fire.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland series #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #the press tour

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magiciaa · 4 years

Text

Welcome to Magicia chapter 8: A Losing Battle

((I’ve been having a bit of art block recently, but at least I’m finally on the chapter I’ve been waiting to write for a while))

“Alright, Lu, we’re going to have to figure out a disguise for you” Kat shuffled through her closet “since you don’t exactly look like a magical girl”

“Is this really necessary?” Lu asked

“Yup, ah, found it, try this on” Kat took a purple and black outfit from her closet and handing it to Lu before leaving the room

Lu looked at himself in the mirror, and he immediately hated it. Although, the outfit fit him almost perfectly, except for the sleeves on the jacket being slightly too long

“Thanks, I hate it.” Lu slammed open the door

“Looks great, now let’s go, the others are waiting for us” Kat transformed and grabbed Lu by the wrist and dragged him out the door “see you losers later, we’re going to go defeat the mafia”

“Just don’t die” Cleo didn’t look up from her book “that would be inconvenient to explain to your teachers”

“Have fun” Zapp shouted out the door

Ace sprinted out the door towards the park, with Lu and King following not far behind. When they arrived, there were so many magical girls walking around that it was hard to find her friends.

“Hey! Ace! Lu! Over here!” Fern yelled, startling several nearby magical girls

“Sup, dudes, you guys ready?” Ace asked

“Ready as we’re going to be” Nightmare got up and brushed some dirt off her dress “hope this plan works”

A short, orange and yellow magical girl with white cat ears stepped onstage and adjusted the microphone before speaking in the fakest customer service voice ever “Welcome to the MG348 audition, please line up at the stairs if you think you have what it takes to join us”

The magical girls all stopped chatting amongst themselves and lined up, Lu and Nightmare nervously joining them. The rest of the group sat in the audience a couple rows behind four magical girls, a wolf dressed all in black, some kind of elf dressed in blue with a large pink bow in her hair, a bug with white hair in a long green cloak, and a cat wearing a lot of pink and rainbows.

“We just wait for the audition to be over, and then we follow them back to the base” Doc whispered, sitting down on the bleachers with the rest of the group

“You, fish, state your name and power, and give an example of your performance” Bronze commanded

A blue fish magical girl stepped onstage and spoke extremely quietly into the microphone “Aquamarine, water manipulation”

One of MG348’s songs played on the speakers, and Aquamarine perfectly mimicked Bronze’s dance from the performances

“Impressive, Next!” Bronze shouted.

Aquamarine sat down in the audience next to Doc as the audition continued “There’s something suspicious about Bronze, I just have to figure out what it is” she whispered to herself

“I happen to know what’s up with her” Doc whispered “MG348 isn’t what it seems to be, do you want to join us in taking them down?”

Aquamarine nodded and scribbled something in a notepad. It read “I’m in. I’m not the biggest fan of talking, so I hope this is fine”

Doc nodded and gave Aquamarine a thumbs up “welcome to the Idiot Squad, name not final”

Lu was next in line, he was unreasonably nervous, considering that he didn’t even want to be there. King was floating around Lu’s shoulders, causing a couple magical girls to stare

“alright, bat, your turn” Bronze commanded

Lu stepped up to the microphone “Lu, shadow manipulation” and began to sing some anime song that Ace showed him a couple days back, which was the only thing he could think to do on the spot

“Unorthodox song choice, but not terrible. Next!” Bronze announced, as Nightmare stepped onstage and Lu joined the rest of the Idiot Squad in the audience.

Nightmare stood in front of the microphone “Nightmare Wonderland, sleep arrows and stopping time” and began to sing and dance to the cutesiest j-pop song that you would never expect someone like her knowing

Bronze stood there shocked for a second before continuing “unexpected, I like it. Next!”

Nightmare sat down with the rest of the idiot squad to watch the rest of the performances. The magical girl in the green cape kept turning around to look at the Idiot Squad in between watching the performances.

The sun was beginning to set, as the last magical girl completed her performance. Bronze stepped up to the microphone to announce who was going to join the idol group. She announced a long list of names, but towards the end of the list, announced that Lu, Aquamarine and Nightmare were selected to join the idol group.

“If you have been selected, please follow me” Bronze announced, summoning a glowing wand and holding it in the air while she walked off of the stage.

A crowd of magical girls excitedly followed behind Bronze, with Lu, Nightmare and Aquamarine near the back. The Idiot Squad followed stealthily behind, mostly by hiding in bushes and on top of trees and buildings, until Bronze stopped in front of the large abandoned school building across the street from the park, and on the same street as Ace’s house.

“You’re telling me that we could’ve just busted into the old school building” Ace whisper-shouted to Doc.

“Never mind that, look” Doc replied.

Bronze went inside the building, and the crowd of magical girls followed.

“Perfect” Doc whispered to herself and ran toward the door with the Idiot Squad not far behind.

Doc kicked down the doors, sending one flying and hitting Bronze in the face mid-sentence “Bronze” she pointed dramatically

“Kitten,” Bronze grinned madly “let’s show these newbies what we’re really about, kill them”

“Aye Aye, Nya~” the cat magical girl unsheathed her claws and charged towards the Idiot Squad

“NO!” Nightmare yelled, instantly appearing in front of Kitten “You’re not hurting Sprinkles”

“Mewve out of the way before I murder you too nya~” Kitten’s voice instantly changed “ugh, I can’t stand doing that neko girl voice, it just pisses me off to no end, now scram before I slice you into little pieces”

“I don’t care if you have to kill me, but just don’t hurt Sprinkles” Nightmare declared

Kitten thrust her paw forward, impaling Nightmare in the chest, and shattering the black gem on her bow. Nightmare went limp and fell to the ground, black blood spreading onto the floor

“You BITCH” Sprinkles cried, running to Nightmare’s side as her body dissolved into gray sparkles “Lynn… she’s dead… no… she can’t be…” Sprinkles grabbed the shards of Nightmare’s transformation device off of the ground

“So what, she got in my way, and you’re next” Kitten was inspecting her paw, stained black from Nightmare’s blood

“I’m not going down that easily” Sprinkles dried her tears and summoned her axe, dashing behind Sprinkles and snapping her neck with the handle, knocking her out “she’s not dead, I just bought us some time while she regenerates”

“GUARDS!” Bronze screamed.

The tall wolf magical girl in all black came to Bronze’s side “what do you need, boss”

“Treble Wolf, kill the spider and her troublesome friends” Bronze commanded

“As you wish” Treble bowed slightly and summoned a battle axe fashioned after an electric guitar before charging forward

Ace blocked the strike with her scythe, but Treble’s axe was too strong and snapped the scythe in half, dissolving it into red sparkles

Lu wandered to the elevator at the back of the room, and went to the basement. When he arrived, the atmosphere was far different than what was upstairs, the metal walls were rusted, and there were stains of magical girl blood splattered everywhere.

“Is someone there?” a timid voice rang out among the empty room “can you help me?”

“Who’s there” Lu answered “this place is seriously creepy”

“Go to the door on the left of the main room” the voice instructed

“Alright, what do you need help with- JESUS PE- FUCK” Lu phased through the door and got a sight of a ton of magical girl corpses, with a half corrupted ghost floating above them

“Welcome to the Rainbow Room, help me get out of here, and I’ll help you” the ghost said “I’m Reaper, by the way, even though we’ve met before, I never actually introduced myself”

“Lu” Lu replied “you can get these off?”

“yup” Reaper removed the power limiters off of Lu’s wrists “there you go, sorry about that, by the way, you scared me”

Lu grabbed Reaper’s hand and pulled her back through the wall “now watch this, King! Now!”

Lu changed into a giant monster, a Soul Beast known as The Prince, and went onto all fours. “get… on…” the Soul Beast struggled to speak

Reaper got on, and held on tightly as The Prince flew through the ceiling and landed in the main room.

Ace was clutching her right eye, which was bleeding profusely as Doc fought Treble Wolf

Doc was trying to dodge Treble’s attacks, although the tank of goo on her back was almost empty, she continued shooting. Doc narrowly avoided a swing from Treble’s axe, but when she tried to attack, her guns just clicked, she was out of ammo. She switched to her melee weapons, two Wolverine-like claws on each hand, originally designed as lightning rods, but makes a good emergency weapon if needed.

Treble Wolf swung downward with her axe, and Doc raised her left arm to block it with her claws, but she overextended her arm, and Treble’s axe went straight through. Neon green blood was spilling everywhere, and Treble Wolf was completely unfazed, so she couldn’t use Sora’s trick from the night before. Suddenly, Televii jumped in to restrain Treble wolf, with his arms wrapped several times around her neck and Sora pointing a gun at her

“You’re not hurting anyone anymore” Sora threatened “these are kids. they don’t deserve to be killed by the likes of you”

“I didn’t think I’d have to do this, but firefly, get rid of them” Bronze yelled to the green caped magical girl

“No.” the magical girl grabbed Bronze by the neck with giant thorny plant arms “I don’t think I will, and the name is Sock”

“Well you’re all so annoying, I might as well get you out of my hair forever!” Bronze cackled crazily and summoned her wand “ERASE!”

“RUN!” Doc shouted “QUICKLY!”

Sock threw Bronze aside, Televii headbutted Treble Wolf and knocked her out, and the Idiot Squad plus Sock ran for the door, slamming it behind them

“Wait- we forgot PJ!” Doc remembered what they were originally there for

The Prince busted through the wall, carrying Reaper and a red chef magical girl on his back

“Doc?” the red magical girl jumped off of The Prince and tackle-hugged Doc

“PJ!” Doc hugged PJ to the best of her ability

“My lab! Now!” Sora announced, pointing in the direction of her house

The Idiot Squad ran to Sora’s lab and immediately collapsed inside.

#my writing #welcome to magicia #long post #tw: swearing

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dontjudgemepeepswrites · 5 years

Text

Flustered - Jack Kelly x Reader

y/n - your name

y/s/n - your surname

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

The rally's practically started and Jack's not here yet. No one's seen him since he went to talk to Pulitzer. And that was a few hours ago!

Spot spit shakes me and Davey. This is actually happening. Holy crap.

"Welcome, newsies of New York City. Welcome to my theatre and your revolution!" Medda announces, causing roars of cheers from the newsies.

"Let's hear it for Spot Conlon and Brooklyn!" Davey adds, and rightfully so. I mean, if it weren't for them, we wouldn't have any other newsies.

"Newsies united! Let's see what Pulitzer has to say to you now," Spot says smugly.

"Hey, Davey, y/n, where's Jack?" Finch asks.

"Yeah! We want Jack! Where is he?!" the other newsies ask.

"Sorry, no sign of him yet. Looks like it's down to you two for now," Medda says sympathetically.

"Newsies of New York!" I yell, getting everyone's attention. Everyone shuts up when I get there attention because everyone knows they'll get soaked if they don't. "Look at what we've done! We've got newsies from every pape and every neighbourhood here tonight. Tonight, you're making history." Cheers are heard throughout the theatre.

"Tonight we declare that we're just as much a part of the newspaper as any reporter or editor. We're done being treated like kids. From now on, they will treat us as equals," Davey adds, making the cheers grow even louder.

"You wanna be talked to like an adult? Then start actin' like one. Don't just run your mouth. Make some sense," a voice inputs. I turn to said voice and see Jack. Thank goodness he's finally here.

"And here's Jack!" Davey announces, clearly as relieved as me.

"Jack! Jack! Jack!" chanted the newsies.

"Alright, Pulitzer raised the price of papes without so much as a word to us. That was a lousy thing to do. So we got mad and let 'em know we ain't gonna be pushed around. So we go on strike. Then what happens? Pulitzer lowers the price so's we'll go back to work! And a few weeks later he hikes the price back up again, and don't think he won't. So what do we do then? And what do we do if he decides to raise his price again after that?" The cheers are now nonexistent and everyone is giving each other confused glances, including me and Davey. Where did this come from? Did Pulitzer do something? Fellas, we gotta be realistic. We don't work, we don't get paid. How many days can you go without makin' money? However long, believe me, Pulitzer can go longer." The booing starts. "But I have spoken to Mr. Pulitzer and he has given me his word: if we disband the union--" Now he's done it. The booing gets louder, starting to drown him out. "-- he will not raise prices again for two years. He will even put it in writing. I say we take the deal. Go back to work knowing our price is secure. All we need to do is vote 'no' on the strike. Vote 'no'!" he finishes, but I can barely hear him over the booing and and screaming in my head.

He heads to the wings, obviously overwhelmed by the booing, but I see him take a wad of cash from a man. He looks back at us, making eye contact with me. "y/n," he says, but I run away. I can't deal with this. I run all the way back to the lodging, Jack following me the entire way, yelling my name. I'm concentrating on trying not to cry and yell so much that I subconsciously climb to Jack's 'penthouse', cornering myself. This is when I give up and collapse in the corner, tears racing down my face. I hear footsteps. He's here.

"What. What do you want?" I snap. He take a few steps back, obviously scared.

"I just want to talk," he answers.

"You don't deserve to talk. You stabbed us in the back. You sold us out to Pulitzer! You've ruined everything we made!"

"I had to! I didn't have a choice!"

"Oh yeah? And what was that choice may I ask? Hmm? Was it 'win the strike and everything we've been working for or sell us out just so you can go to Santa Fe'?"

"If I didn't make that speech, they were gonna take everyone to the refuge! They were gonna take Les! Davey! Race! They were gonna take you," his voice cracks during the last sentence, indicating that he was crying.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Ask Katherine! She was there!"

"Why was she there?!"

"Because she's Pulitzer's daughter!"

"Oh... that... ok..."

"Seriously? You're chill with that?!"

"Pulitzer has eyes all over the city, why would he need his daughter to be a spy? I trust her and you should too."

"Why?"

"Because it's my gut instinct. And my gut is never wrong. Besides, together we came up with a plan to finish our revolution! To win our revolution."

"I don't know..."

"You've not even heard it yet. Is it because a girl came up with it?"

"I didn't say noth--"

"This would be a good time to shut up. Being boss doesn't mean you always have the answers,just the brains to recognise the right one when you hear it."

"I'm listening."

"Good for you. The strike was your idea, the rally was Davey's, and now mine and Katherine's plan will take us to the finish line. Deal with it," I say, handing him the poster Katherine and I designed.

"'The Children's Crusade'," he reads.

"For the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory and slaughter house on New York, I beg you... join us," I recite. "With those words, the strike stopped being just about the Newsies. You challenged our whole generation to stand up and demand a place at the table."

"'The Children's Crusade'?"

"Think, Jack, if we publish this, Katherine's words..." I look around and see where he keeps his drawings. "... with one of your drawings, and if every worker under twenty-one read it and stayed home from work... or better yet, came to Newsie Square - a general city-wide strike! Even Pulitzer couldn't ignore that."

"Only one small problem: we got no way to print it."

"Oh come on, there has to be one printing press he doesn't control."

"Oh no," he says after a pause, then letting out some sort of snort/laugh thing.

"What?"

"I know where there's a printing press that no one would think we'd ever use."

"Then let's go!" I exclaim excitedly, starting to climb down. It's strange ho much my mood's changed since I came up. "Wait. No, I need to talk to you about something else."

"Yeah, me too actually."

"You first."

"Um, ok. What's this about? Not the crusade. What's this about? Am I kiddin' myself or is there something..." he asks, motioning to us.

"I don't know. That's what I was gonna ask. So I guess so," I say calmly as if it's nothing.

"Well don't say it like this happens everyday!"

"Ja--"

"I'm not an idiot. I know that guys like me don't wind up with people like you. I mean, I know we're both newsies, but we're so different. And I don't want you promisin' nothin' you gotta take back later. But standin' here tonight... lookin' at you... I'm scared tomorrow's gonna come and change everything."

"Why would it change everything?"

"Cause the world is unfair like that. But... if there was a way I could grab hold of something to make time stop. Just so's I could keep looking at you."

"You snuck up on me, Jack Kelly. I never even saw it coming."

"For sure?"

"For sure," I echo.

youtube

"Till the moment I found you I thought I knew what love was Now I'm learning what is true: Love will do what it does The world finds ways to sting you And then one day decides to bring you

Something to believe in For even a night One night may be forever But that's alright That's alright And if you're gone tomorrow What was ours still will be I have something to believe in Now that I know you believed in me," I sing.

"We was never meant to meet And then we meet Who knows why One more stranger on the street Just someone sweet passing by An angel come to save me Who didn't even know they gave me

Something to believe in For even a day One day may be forever But that's okay That's okay And if I'm gone tomorrow What was ours still will be I have something to believe in Now that I know you believed in me," he sings.

"Do you know what I believe in Look into my eyes and see," we sing together, staring into each other's eyes.

He leans towards me and crashes his lips onto mine but he pulls away all too quickly.

"If things were different..." he starts.

"If you weren't going to Santa Fe," I finish.

"And if I wasn't having to be careful with every step I take so Snyder and Pulitzer don't get me."

"You're not really scared of them," I tease.

"No," he says. "But I am pretty scared of you."

"Don't be," I laugh.

"And if I'm gone tomorrow..." he continues singing.

"What was ours still will be," I sing.

"I have something to believe in Now that I know you believed in me," we sing together.

"I have something to believe in," he restates.

"Now that I know you believed in me," we finish together, before being engulfed into a hug.

*after the strike's won (y'all know what I don't fill in)*

"With the strike settled, I should probably be hitting the road," Jack sighs. Katherine, Davey and I move towards him, ready to try and convince him to stay.

"Don't you ever get tired of singing that same old tune? What's Santa Fe got that New York hasn't? Tarantulas?" Davey asks.

"Better yet: what's New York got that Santa Fe ain't?" Katherine asked.

"New York's got us," I say.

"And we're family," the newly released Crutchie adds.

"Didn't I hear something about the strike being settled?" Pulitzer bellows before finally leaving.

"Papes for the newsies. Line up. These papes ain't gonna sell themselves," Weasel says.

"Well, don't just stand there, you've got a union to run. Besides, didn't someone just offer you a pretty exciting job?" I tease.

"Me? Work for Pulitzer?"

"You already work for Pulitzer."

"Oh, yeah."

"And you've got one more ace up your sleeve."

"What would that be?"

"Me. Wherever you go, I'm right there by your side."

"For sure?"

"For sure."

"Don't take much to be a dreamer All you do is close your eyes Now my eyes is fin'lly open And my dreams, they's av'rage size But they don't much matter if you ain't with me," he sings, before pulling me into a long, passionate kiss.

"Guys!" I hear Les say, causing catcalls and whistles to be heard. We pull away shortly.

"Well, Jack, you in or you out?" Davey asks. Jack walks away from me and to Weasel, slamming his 50 cents onto the table before grabbing his papes and dragging me away. I guess I'm selling with him today then.

"Hey, Jack, did you really mean all that?" I ask.

"What d'you mean?"

"When you said that your dreams don't matter if I ain't with you?" I clarify. A red dusts his cheeks. I fake gasp. "Is the Jack Kelly blushing?! Tough guy Jack Kelly isn't so tough after all," I tease.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll give you a nickname," he playfully threatens.

"You wouldn't dare!" I respond, fake gasping again. The reason that I don't have a nickname is because I didn't want one. It's as simple as that. "But in all seriousness, is it true?"

"Of course it's true. I don't know when I first fell in love with you, but I realised it when we were in the refuge together and I saw how strong you are."

"You love me?"

"I-- um-- I-" he starts, obviously flustered.

"I love you too. And you're cute when you're flustered, y'know that, right?"

"Shuddup," he mumbles, still flustered and blushing.

"Hey guys, have you seen Alb-- is Jack blushing?" Race asks, coming up to us and seeing Jack's flustered face.

"Pfft, no. I'm not blushing," Jack states, trying to revive his tough persona.

"Yes you are. y/n, what did ya say?" Race asks. Jack looks at me in a way that says 'don't tell him'. I know what I have to do.

"Some rando just punched 'im but we managed to get 'im," I lie, deciding to save Jack for now.

"I'll believe you this time, but I'm keeping my eyes on you two..." he says, slowly backing away, glaring at us suspiciously.

"Thanks y/n, if they knew that it was because I confessed by accident, I'd never hear the end of it," Jack says after Race is out of earshot.

"Aha! I'm telling everyone! Also, Jack, you're whipped," Race says before running away. He obviously wasn't out of earshot.

"Dammit."

"I mean, you told him, not me."

"Sometimes I hate you, y/s/n," Jack rolls his eyes.

"Ouch, using the last name, that hurts. And don't lie, we both know you love me," I tease.

"Shuddup," he mumbles, once again flustered.

"You say that a lot when you get flustered, don't ya," I smirk.

"Pfft, no."

#jack kelly #newsies #jack kelly imagine #jack kelly x reader #newsies imagine #jack kelly one shot #one shot #imagine #imagines

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pinktatertots99 · 5 years

Text

since NO ONE is writing this couple guess i gotta do that long leggy work.

synops: human au. it’s been half a year and now barbata’s met with the biggest mission in his life; meeting ame’s sibling, amy.

notes: ame = amethyst 84. amy = amethyst 33. takes place after events of the series.

______________________

he sighed as he reached the second step of the house’s front door’s staircase. why was this vest so itchy he thought as he scratched it. maybe next time he shouldn’t take advice from quienta on what designer to buy from cause who could walk around in this vest? it’s not even over his skin but it feels so off on his neck.

shaking his head lightly he moved to knock, only to be stopped by the click of a lock and the door opening itself, showing a young purple haired one in a fancy looking short sleeved jumper and long sleeved shirt underneath, hair in a braid and covering their eye.

“so your amy right?” he blurted out awkwardly as they nodded. he could hear the distant footsteps inside getting louder and a semi loud “amyyyy!” coming towards them. he smiled as ame came up behind their twin smiling. “glad you came!” they exclaimed happily as both twins moved out of the way. “come in come in! this is my coworker amy, mister barbata.”

“pleasure meeting you.” he smiled lightly putting a hand out to the other. both standing in awkwardness as no one moved.

“...iiiii got ingrediants if you wanted to cook barb!” ame interjected. “mostly for naportian.” they stated as barbata felt so grateful for this. “i’ll get to that thank you.”

“maybe amy can help you.” both amy and barb looked wide eyed at the bob cutted other. “mean, you guys can y’know, talk and stuff? look we can’t keep beating round the bush forever.”

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

barbata sighed as he boiled the noodles, cutting up the bellpeppers while amy cut the onions. both working in silence. ‘how awkward’ he thought to himself. “...so, uhm, how’ve things been?”

“good.” they replied, barbata getting more uncertain. “good good. ...so...anything new?” the braided one shrugged as barbata could feel more dread, something he thought his boss could be the only one to give him honestly.

“you don’t have to force yourself y’know.” he looked to amy shocked at such a quick comment. “i know your trying to impress me, but honestly i already kinda knew.” as he added the olive oil, garlic and saute he continued to listen. “ame’s almost always working with you, and they like working with you more than coming home. and honestly,” he looked to see amy give a rather...half hearted smile.

“as long as their happy, i’m happy too.”

===============

“ahh that was good!!” ame exclaimed as they started eating. “you two did a good job hehe.” barb scratched the back of his neck. “thanks ehehe. amy’s pretty good helper.” amy looked up smiling lightly and blushing a shade of pink. humming lightly ame nodded. “we should do this more often you two. so, amy, any questions?”

the other looked up curiously, shaking their head as barb raised a brow. “not even my alright skills?” ame pouted at him. “baaarb their good skills!” they interjected as barbata chuckled. “c’mon it’s not cemented or any-”

“i think you did good.” both looked to amy as they replied, moving back to eat. “see barb? two votes outta one. your move.” ame giggled as barb sighed. “unfortunately i’ll forfeight that move.” both laughed as amy watched, they swore the onions must’ve been strong in the meal.

........

“man, and i thought spoons were a pain.” ame groaned as wet splotches appeared on their apron as both twins took to dish cleaning. “does he always smoke?” amy spoke up as ame sighed. “only when something’s on his mind i think. usually just once i day though.”

“oh...sorry.”

“why’re you sorry for you haven’t done anything?” amy side glanced them as their neutral face became a bit sadder in complexion. “...i can see, why you like him alot.” ame looked up as both slowed down their cleaning. “i’d leave home too, if i met someone like him.”

“amy please,” ame exasurbated. “i said i was sorry. i just, needed a change and it was a chance. sides, i gave you my apartment address.” as they went back to the dishes they mumbled loud enough to hear “your the one who didn’t visit.”

..amy paused as both did, ame’s face to the sink while amy lowered the fork they were cleaning. “i’m gonna-”

“yeah no, it’s okay just go.” ame stated a bit harsher then they wanted as amy left the kitchen. once they left ame crossed their arm’s on the edge of the sink, lowering their head on them. “damnit...”

~~~~~~

he could feel a twinge of something as he let out a breath of smoke. something...didn’t feel right. and it wasn’t the vest this time either. then again this entire thing felt awkward and not right.

before he could put his cigarrete in his mouth again he heard the door open and close, looking just intime to see amy stand next to him. “...can i try?” barbata was thankful he didn’t go for a smoke as he almost choked out himself from such a question. “HU-huh??”

“i wanna try it.” they stated, looking rather serious with that one eye of theirs. it was his only one for the night...but he sighed as he gave them his still lit one. he watched as they took a small inhale, and soon dropping it hacking it up as barbata moved ready to hold em.

“ya gotta take it slow-”

“i -hac- did-” they coughed out, slowly calming down after a few fits as both stood outside looking to the stars. “...so, ame?” he asked, looking to see amy giving a small nod. “sorry.”

“you didn’t do anything.” they replied as barbata chuckled lightly. “well, i mean, i’m probably getting in the middle of things-”

“it’s okay.” they stated as barb’s looked confused at them, sighing as he looked to the sky. “...why did you come?” they asked. “to meet you-”

“but why?” barbata paused at that question, seemingly an invitation for amy to continue. “ame’s so happy with you. they left to be happy, and that...was obviously the best thing they could’ve done. their living their best life, and i...was just the rock holding them down from it. ...i don’t deserve to feel betrayed and hurt by it.”

barbata’s eyes widened at that. “t-”

“please...” amy started before he could. “i know already. their...really happy to be with you more. and...i’m happy for them, but yet, why...does it feel heavy?”

out of nowhere the door flung open as barbata watched amy get quickly tackled by ame, heads smacking eachother as both landed on the ground. ame hugging the other closely.

“...i’m s-”

“don’t. apologize.” they growled out as both sat in silence. barbata shuffled to sit on one knee infront of the two. what could he even say though? “...you guys are naportian.”

“....huh?”

“i mean, just,...look, i’m not, exactly cut out for this but, y’know how, when you chop up garlic for it, sometimes it’s so strong you cry?” both twins stared, amy slowly nodding though. “right? yeah okay so, just like, it’s such a good dish. and easy to make. but involves some ingrediants, and maybe some make ya cry, but y’know, at the end it tastes delicious, especially with other people right?”

they continued staring but slowly nodding at him. “yeah okay so you guys, that’s you guys your naportian...get it?” he asked awkwardly, leaving them in silence...only to slowly break amy down, in turn ame tearing up in response as they held eachother close.

=======

“he’s a keeper ame.” barbata blushed lightly as ame chuckled lightly. “well, i hope you find your own barbata someday amy.” for once barbata could see a sincere smile on amy’s face. instead of replying however he felt them quickly lunging hugging him close.

“i trust you...with them.” they stated, barbata’s face reddening more as ame pouted. “geez, are you trying to embarrass me?”

“i’-it’s what siblings do isn’t it?” they gave a smirk as ame pouted. “how dare you.” the other chuckled as they let go. “by the way mister barbata.” barbata looked to them as they rubbed their cheek. “you should, really think of getting a better vest. that one’s too scratchy.”

“...” he chuckled and patted their head lightly. “man, i am glad to’ve met you.”

“likewise.”

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #lotl #kingdom of gems #fanfiction #shipping #barbata x amethyst 84 #amethyst 84 x barbata #the pink one speaks #i made this

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

Text

CSUAVS PRT 49 half

Unhooking the vent cover, Keith dropped down first, nearly taking out the visitors chair as he lost his balance when his eyes met Kre'el's. This plan of theirs seeming somewhat stupider now they'd reached their end goal... and a whole lot stupider when Lance dropped the block of chocolate they'd brought with him down on his head. Mentally glaring at his husband, Keith leapt down off the chair to retrieve the chocolate as Lance lowered himself down, somehow ending up on his arse instead of standing. In her bed, Kre'el gave a coughing laugh. Lance looking to her with too much interest. Resisting the urge to growl, Keith the the chocolate at Lance, before stalking to lean against the back of the visitors chair, attempting to glare her into shutting up until Lance was ready to talk. Kre'el knew exactly what she was doing, using her left hand to lift her oxygen mask off to sit under her chin.

"You came back?"

Nodding, Lance was tense

"I had to. We haven't finished talking"

"I see you brought Keith"

"He's staying"

"He's handsome... If I were three hundred years younger..."

Then what? That was plain creepy. Plus... she had nothing he was interested in

"He is right here. Lance had questions, and you're going to give him answers while no one is watch us"

Kre'el ignored him

"What do you want to know? I thought I explained before"

Lance took a breath as he started to fiddle with the chocolate wrapper

"I want to know about his men. Klearo's men. I want to know what they sent you. You said he was to observe and report to you... did he... did he film me?"

Kre'el moved her left hand towards Lance, leaving the mask down under her chin. She barely looked alive, let alone like the woman that had tried to kidnap them

"Lance, I'm not sure that will change anything... They're dead. Taken care of after Klearo abused the power we bestowed upon him... I couldn't let them do it again"

"So he did... Why? What happened to the film?"

Breaking off the chocolate, Lance's hands were shaking

"I erased files... after you agreed to help kill Klearo. The data he provided was next to useless. You're pain threshold was higher than expected, as was your healing time. The drugs processed through your system too fast to be effective, only serving to tell us that it wasn't a suitable form of sedation. Other than your marks and high quintessence, there was nothing particularly fascinating until we knew human males weren't biologically designed to carry young... Klearo... he got what he deserved. I never imagined he'd take things that far or that way simply because you bruised his ego"

Passing Kre'el a piece of chocolate, the Altean took it in confusion

"It's chocolate. It's good..."

"Why?"

"Why are you giving this to me? You should hate me, like your partner does"

"Honestly. I want to hate you. I want to shake you and yell at you, and throw you out the nearest airlock. I want to demand answers to all the questions I have... but when I look at you... I can't... I still see her... Those god awful coffees... Sitting at the bar while you complained about you boss... but I guess he was a friend after all. Kre'el, what happened to Helo? Did you... did you kill him? Did any of them survive?"

Gasping, Kre'el coughed as she shook her head

"That wasn't me. Not personally. It was... on behalf of Erathus, at the outpost. He was getting to close to our operation. Looking into the missing ships... Pollarck could only do so much in his position... I was told he was apprehended by your Earth friends. I never wanted him to die... I wish we could go back to those days, but it was always going to end like this..."

How Lance could sit there nodding, Keith didn't know. Helo was a friend to both of them. Someone else who didn't need to die

"And his body?"

"Parts... the ones with low quintessence... they served so we could live"

Keith drew his brow in disgust. Lance was acting too calm. As if he was simply visiting a friend, not a mass murdering bitch. He was barely holding his tongue. His teeth hurting from how hard he was gritting them. Lance needed this and so far had kept his temper, but he didn't know if that was better or worse

"What do you mean?"

Placing the chocolate in her mouth, Kre'el sighed around the piece

"This is good"

Lance wasn't buying it, his voice firm

"Kre'el, what do you mean they served so you could live? They served the ship? Then why did they need to be in pieces?"

"Lift the blankets... I can't..."

Lance went to move as Kre'el said, Keith stopping him by placing both hands on his shoulders and pushing him down. There was no way Kre'el have a weapon on her, but Keith wasn't chancing Lance's health

"I'll do it"

Stepping around the visitors chair, Keith was slightly rough as he pulled the blankets back to expose the hospital gown Kre'el was wearing, not sure what he was supposed to be seeing

"Break the tab on the side, and pull it back. We're all adults here"

There was no tab, just the string that tied at the back. Taking the thin fabric in his hands it snapped with ease. With her arm in the left sleeve, Keith gave up and tore the fabric, revealing a sunken stomach littered with thick scars. Eyeing it in revolt, Keith backed away, gathering Lance against him as his boyfriend said nothing

"Our bodies are breaking down... you saw my arm... we... wanted to live... We weren't the only ones trying to extend our lives..."

"That doesn't make any of this right. You fucking let them hurt him. You could have confessed to him. You could have come to us! You killed thousands of people... How many lives have you destroyed?! Where are the rest of you? You said something about a new home. Where?! How do we get there? How many of you are still there?"

"Keith, just... just stop. Please..."

Reaching out, Lance pulled the blankets back as Kre'el tried to help. She could freeze for all he cared

"She broke... they broke you. How can you just sit there? What happened to all your questions? What happened to you needing these answers?"

Lance shot him a glare, smoothing out the piece of blanket near Kre'el's hand. His voice was soft, and far too understanding

"Because they just wanted to live... We all want to live... Kre'el, is there another planet? Another home base now that the outpost and ship are gone?"

"Yes... a world... we tried to make our own. I don't know if any more will live... not without the ship..."

"How do we get there?"

"It's all on the ship... the... the pass code is "hope"... you... have an Altean... don't let them use the pods..."

With Kre'el running out of breath, Lance broke his hold completely to lift the mask back onto her face. Telling them to go back to the ship was a cop out, in his opinion. Kre'el could be stringing them along. Lance feared having been filmed, and she'd confirmed it.

A few doboshes of awkward silence past as Kre'el regained control of her breathing. Lance was biting his lip as he stared at his former friend. It didn't look good for Kre'el. It was like death was in the air

"Lance, I think you should ask any other questions you have"

Looking up to him, Lance looked back to Kre'el. Just because Lance had accepted things, didn't mean Keith was ready to jump into the same boat. Someone had to stay objective... Which he definitely wasn't being... but wouldn't admit. Taking Kre'el's hand in his was the last straw for Keith. Walking over to the wall, he leaned back against it. If Lance was going to be an idiot, he could get himself out of whatever she did to him

"You don't have to talk... just nod or shake your head. Is everyone with that tattoo gone? From Klearo's crew?"

Kre'el nodded

"And there's more of you out there? That could be dying without the ship?"

Kre'el nodded again

"And if we unlock the ship, we'll be able to access the records? Including that data you took on Keith and I?"

Nodding again, Kre'el was letting one rattling breath after another

"And us... our friendship. You regretted what was done? But you were still desperate to survive?"

Pulling off her mask, Kre'el coughed

"I'm sorry... I wanted you dead... I wanted... if you had a child... I wanted... I wanted... why we had to die... why she had to die... didn't... want you to die... wanted to live"

The machine monitoring Kre'el's heart started to beep louder, her hand grasping Lance's harder as she wheezed, trying to talk of her daughter to his boyfriend. Rising, Lance placed her hand on forehead

"Babe... should I get Veronica?"

"She's dying"

"So I should get Veronica?"

The beeping was getting louder, Veronica was sure to be in the room any tick as it was. As Kre'el started to flatline, Lance pointed to the door while keeping his eyes on Kre'el

"No... Let her go. If they come back in here, they're only going to revive her over and over until her body fails completely. If we do that, we're no better than they were. Let her rest... Que Dios te lleve a su abrazo amoroso y tenga piedad de tu alma. Que descanses en paz en los brazos de tu hija, en el paraíso que es el cielo... Sleep and when you wake, might your daughter be there to accept you with open arms"

"Babe?"

"It's ok. Kre'el, it's ok to let go. I forgive you..."

As the door to Kre'el's room opened, Veronica glared at the pair of them

"What are you doing in here? Lance, step away from the prisoner"

"She's dead V. It's time to let her go"

"She holds important information"

"Her body is failing. Bringing her back is too cruel"

"I can't simply look the other way. Neither of you are supposed to be in here unsupervised"

"God. Put the rules aside. She was a mother and she wanted to save her people. Let her pass in peace. Let her rest"

"You don't have the authority to make that decision"

"As the person she hurt most here, I say I do"

"You're not..."

Pushing off the wall with his foot, Keith stood between Lance and Kre'el. Veronica might have a job to do,

"Call Shiro and ask him. He'll agree with Lance"

"Keith, you..."

Behind them, Kre'el continued to flatline, Veronica pushing Keith out the way, before stopping just shy of Lance

"She's gone already V. Let her rest with her daughter"

"She was valuable"

"She was a person. A really fucking misguided person. If Honerva could find rest and redemption, so can she"

"You can't make decisions like this"

"I make decisions like this all the time. I've lost team members and friends, V. If mami can accept what I do, so can you. You never would have had access to her at all, or to her ship without us. Now it's time she rests..."

Placing down Kre'el's hand, Lance moved past Veronica, Keith moving to catch his boyfriend in his arms before he escape

"Babe?"

"I'm ok... Not ok, but... I knew it was coming"

"What do you need?"

"Can we go back to the Telula? I need my holopad..."

What did he need his holopad for? Kre'el has just died, and Keith's head was still full of questions. Shiro probably wouldn't be too happy that all they got was the code for the prison ship's systems was "hope". Pidge had probably already hacked it, or one of his other officers. They should have kept Kre'el in a pod longer. Even if they'd only taken her out the morning she was being transferred, it'd have given them more time for Lance to talk to her

"Babe, I think you're in shock"

"I want to write everything down before I forget it... We need to get to that planet to search for any survivors"

He should have seen the one coming from a mile away. There was no way Keith was agreeing to them checking it out, but a panic attack or an argument in front of Veronica wouldn't end well for Lance

"Ok. Let's get everything written down and talk to Shiro?"

"And Coran. Coran knows what "hope" is in Altean. It's probably not been the same word as "hope". Shit. Shiro's not going to be happy"

"Shiro said he was happy with what you got from her. We should get out of the way"

With Kre'el flatlining and Veronica not yelling directions at medical staff, the staff filtering in to deal with her body were in no rush. Taking Lance out the the room, Lance looked back as Keith tugged him on

"What's going on?"

"I forgot the chocolate... do you think she liked it?"

For the second time that day, shock was starting to set in, Lance stopping again to stare back at Kre'el's room. Chocolate wasn't a priority, and Keith had given Lance's mother more than enough for the stockpile in his possession. Being Lance's mother, she'd wanted to pay for it all, but understood when Keith explained he wanted to pay as it was a personal gift and not just a want.

"Yeah. I'm sure she did"

"Maybe I should have given her more?"

"You saw how sick she was, babe. You made her happy for a few moments"

"Do you think she liked it?"

Wrapping his arm around Lance's waist, Keith kept guiding him away from the room. There was nothing that could done for Kre'el now

"Babe, you just asked me that"

"Oh... Oh. I want to go to the Telula..."

"That's where we're going"

"Ok. I hope she finds peace"

"I'm sure she will. What was it you said to her in Spanish?"

"Oh... um... just a prayer. I couldn't think of a bible verse that fitted for her... so I said a prayer. I think... I hope she's at peace with her daughter... What she must have gone through... Veronica's going to be pissed"

"That's her problem, not yours. You just lost a friend"

"I know... I feel like I should be crying, but I'm not"

"It hasn't sunk in yet"

"Yeah... maybe..."

Shoving his hands in his pocket, Lance didn't return the hold. His feet still heavy as slow, even once Kre'el's room had long disappeared behind them.

By the time they reached the Telula, Lance was walking taller. The glint in his eyes not his soft boyfriend's but that of when Lance donned the mask of Leandro. Heading on board, Shiro was waiting for them in the cargo bay, the man poised to attack them with a hug, only to stop and raise an eyebrow at Lance's lack of tears. Giving a slight jerk of his head, Shiro silently asked him if Lance was alright. There was no way to silently reply to that. Keith wasn't even sure he had the words to vocalise a reply

"Lance?"

Blinking at Shiro, Lance then out a weary sigh

"She passed. I'm sorry. I couldn't let them bring her back again. Not after everything. Keith needs to talk to you. Do you know where Coran is?"

"The others are in the medbay. Pidge wanted in on the programs Coran was gifting Daehra with. I can go get him..."

"No. No, it's ok. Thanks. I'm just going to borrow him for bit. Keith, why don't you take Shiro down to your old room for some privacy, I'm going to head up to the bridge"

Keith wasn't sure what he was meant to talk to Shiro about. He was more worried for Lance. Even if he was seeking out Coran, Keith still wanted to be there for him... It stung... and the half-Galra would be lying if he didn't say he was confused as to what he was supposed to be feeling. The feelings of anger and disgust were morphing into something else... Maybe he did need to talk to Shiro? Was it in his scent? Is that what made Lance think it was better he talk to Coran instead of him?

"Ok, babe... I'm here if you need to talk"

"I know. Just gotta do this first"

That was a whole lot of nothing explained. Lance said he wanted to write things down... So how did Coran work into that? Still in search of something to hug, Shiro slung his arm over Keith's shoulder

"Take as long as you need. Keith can fill me in"

Lance's only reply was to give a nod before striding off ahead of them

"Is he ok?"

"I don't know, Shiro. I really don't know"

"Ok, kiddo. How about you and me go have this talk?"

It looked to Keith like in his absence his room had been turned into a storage room for Lance. The bed was made, but was made with all of his spare blankets. The pile so thick that it was almost impossible to roll into a pile then on to the floor. He stupid instincts didn't want other people's scents on things, despite another's scent clearly being on their blankets. He didn't know the scent, it was soft like faded fabric softener. Something floral at a guess. Sitting on the edge of be bed, Shiro sat down next to him. His one armed hug moving from his shoulders to around his waist, having been broken to make space for them. Burying his face in his hands, Keith rubbed at his eyes, nudging softly Shiro prompted

"Veronica called ahead"

"I figured she would. She wanted to revive Kre'el when she flatlined. Lance wanted to let her pass"

"Did she talk? I didn't expect you two to head back to her so soon"

"I didn't either. But the first thing that idiot wanted was to finish talking to her"

"Did he get the answers he needed?"

Keith let out a bitter laugh. That was the question of the varga. Did he?

"He said he forgave her"

"And you don't?"

"I don't know. It was easier to hate her before I knew everything else. She fucked him up so much. He was suicidal, throwing himself headfirst into all his missions because he didn't care if he died. He's been popping god only knows what, shooting up the yellow shit they got him addicted to. Picking fights with everyone. Hunting down dangerous criminals. He only escaped them the first time by killing everyone, then he went right back in there and did the same to Klearo... and now he finds out the sick fucks filmed the whole thing. Kre'el said she deleted it, and he believes her. He believes her because he... he still sees his friend in her. I don't know what to do Shiro..."

Shiro gathered him up against him as tears started to well in Keith's eyes

"It sounds like you've been there for Lance, but he hasn't really been there for you"

What no?

"What do you mean?"

"That was all about Lance, but how do you feel about Kre'el's death?"

"I don't know. I said I don't know. Why would you say that about Lance?"

"That came out wrong. You sound exhausted, and you've only just reunited. Neither of you have stopped since you came back together. Naps and sleeping don't count"

"It's... complicated. He's good to me. I promise..."

"Keith..."

"He is. He's there. He listens to me most of the... some of the time. It's been hard to get him through things, but it's also brought up a lot of things I haven't got through either... and he helps with that. I still have nightmares... and I understand things differently to how I did. I didn't understand how people could rely on something so much... like the drugs, but now I realise you were my drug. I was relying on you so heavily I went crazy when I lost your support. It wasn't healthy... I mean, if you went missing now, I'd hunt your arse down and kick you back to Curtis. But I understand why those kids couldn't just stop... and... When he went back, he asked me to come with him. For us. He wants to put this behind him for us... but now we've found out there's this whole other planet that might be filled with dead aliens... and I just know he's going to want to go"

"Did she give you coordinates?"

"No she said they were on the ship. The password is "hope" in Altean. She mentioned some other alien called Pollarck? I have no idea who he is... I don't think I can forgive her like Lance did..."

"You don't have to forgive her. You know what happened now"

"I don't know if I do. I feel like I still have questions, but I have no idea what they are. Lance said he had questions, and I don't know if he asked them all or gave up because she was so close to death"

"That's a talk you're going to have to with him"

"I know, but he's swapped into work mode now. He said he wanted to write everything down... I'm worried Shiro. They took a heap of personal data from us on that outpost. I'm worried that when the technicians are looking through the ship's data, they're going to find everything out. He was already scared that they had filmed him, then she went and confirmed it, only to say it was gone. But what if it's not? What if it's still on system? What if it gets out?"

"It won't get out. The ship is on lockdown. We have it under surveillance in case the rest of her network come for it"

1 note · View note

lionheartedqlf · 5 years

Text

dinner & daddy

Who: Quinton Fabray & Rachel Berry

When: 7/3 ; Evening - 7/4 ; Morning

Where: Berry Residence

What: What starts as a business dinner turns into a very interesting night for Quinn and Rachel

Warnings: Eating Disorder talk, self harm, almost sexy times with BDSM elements. It’s not safe for work babes.

Quinn really wasn't sure what he was getting himself into. With every weird thing going on with Rachel, applying to work for her father was possibly the worst idea he'd ever followed through on. However, he sucked it up. He needed a day job and gay man was far less likely to care that he was trans. Unfortunately, this particular man was also Rachel's father and seemed, was shocked the right word, to be getting a job application from him. The man had been kind, inviting Quinn over for dinner. While he wasn't sure if this had anything to do with who he was or just the job, Quinn didn't know, but he got all dressed up anyway. It was the best he had, that also wasn't so formal he'd feel smothered. He'd debated not packing, but when looking at himself in the mirror without it was too much.

Five minutes before he'd agreed to be at the Berry residence, Quinn pulled up on his motorcycle. He took the fact he was early to calm his nerves and fix his hair before making his way up to the door. Squaring his shoulders, helmet under his arm, he knocked on the door. All he knew was that this was bound to be awkward and he really hoped his past wasn't brought up too much at dinner.

“Go answer the door for him honey.” Her dad calls out from the dining room as he set the table.

Rachel just huffs, rolling her eyes but places a smile on despite how sick she feels about all of this. How irritating her fathers think her playing hostess was the best idea considering who is behind the door.

“Welcome.” Rachel says as she opens the door, unable to stop herself from biting her lip. “It’s really nice to see you.” She admits before opening the door wider for him to step inside.

Quinn straightens up just a bit more as the door starts to open, a small smile on his face when he hears who is doing it. It spreads almost into a smirk when he sees Rachel bite her lip. "The pleasure is mine." His voice is soft and as he steps across the threshold, he leans in and places a gentle kiss to her cheek. "As requested." He whispers in her ear before pulling away. "Anywhere in particular I can put my helmet?"

Rachel shivers, there’s no gruffness to his voice but it still sounds seductive to her. “Of course it is.” She squeaks out before taking the helmet one hand holding it and the other touching at her cheek. “My dad invited some coworkers. You’re really going to get the whole performance. Consider yourself lucky.” Rachel removes her hand from her cheek and puts the helmet in the hallway closet. “I didn’t know you ride.”

Quinn laughs a bit at the way Rachel reacts, a smile still on is face. His eyebrow raised, in typical Fabray style at the mention of coworkers. "Is that so? Are we sure that's lucky?" He teases, hands sliding into his pockets as he looks around. "Last time I was in this house we got drunk in the basement." His voice was quiet, mostly to himself. "Oh, yeah. When my old car finally gave out, I got the bike."

“My dad puts on quite the show and my voice is something special. You know half of that is true.” She’s surprised it feels so easy. “That’s exactly what will happen this evening. I don’t last long.” She used to but now she had to get away from the food. “Is it fun?”

"That your voice certainly is. And I doubt you're lying about the show." He smiled and he looked at Rachel. "Getting drunk or?" Quinn did his best to limit how often he got drunk and he never touched wine. Which was typically the kind of drink served at any sort of house event, that wasn't designated as a party. Well, no, he'd been to a few house parties that were definitely on the formal side and wine was the only alcohol served. "Yeah, I enjoy it. It's not really practical for the winter months but I've got a car for that."

“Usually.” Rachel nods, not planning on elaborating. “We’ve made mojitos if those interest you. Mango, pomegranate, and regular.” She shakes her head. “I still don’t really drive. But hopefully I won’t have to soon.”

"I think I can handle a mojito or two, though should I be worried my new possible boss is possibly trying to get me drunk?"He chuckled a bit, nodding as Rachel spoke. "I hope it goes well for you. I'm sure you're itching to get out of this town for good. You deserve to."

“He May have ulterior motive. I won’t disclose them. It depends on me. But he does believe you’ll be a hard worker. I know that you will be.” Rachel smiles. “I leave for my audition next week.”

"If he's trying to get me to sing he will be sorely disappointed, Quinn Fabray does not sing anymore." Quinn chuckled as he moved further into the house, taking it in. "Well, my work ethic hasn't changed so he doesn't have to worry about whether I'll be a hard worker or not. I might be a skateboarding occasional bum. But I know how to buckle down when it's needed of me." He smiles at Rachel. "That's good, I'm sure you'll blow them away."

“I forgot I could get you sing a duet with me. Or at least try. It gets old singing with your dads all the time.” She laughs. “You skateboard too? Color me surprised. I should probably bring you out. My daddy is eager to see you again.” She laughs. “We’ll see what happens.” Rachel speaks as an after thoughts she leads him out to the back yard. “Should have told you to bring a suit.”

"The closest I get to music, outside of my shower, is behind a piano or I play guitar. But yeah, no, duets are not on the table." Quinn chuckled as he follows Rachel. "I do. Something I picked up in Cleveland." He raised an eyebrow. "He is?" A grimace crossed his face as he stepped foot in the backyard. "I, uh... don't have one. I don't feel comfortable at a tailor." He mumbled.

“You play piano? You can play for me!” Rachel grins. Hiram and LeRoy great Quinn enthusiastically. “Help yourself. I’m sure Rachel will keep you company.”

Quinn sighed with a laugh. " I do, yes. You'll have to ask nicely, but I promise nothing decent after a few drinks." The idea of playing for Rachel was... well it wasn't the worst idea in the world. However he'd never tested his ability to play after more than one Jack and Coke. Quinn smiled as he was greeted. "Thank you for inviting me. I certainly will." He eyed Rachel, not entirely sure she actually would, just given things but he wasn't about to be rude.

“I ask nicely.” She promises, with a flip of her hair.

At his look she giggle. “Don’t worry. I’ve been spoken to. I’ve promised to be on my best behavior.” It was a bit cryptic but Rachel told her daddy everything and he tells her dad everything. “Do you want to mingle or come to the basement?”

Quinn resisted the urge to snort at the hair flip and couldn't help the raise of his eyebrow at her giggle. "Uh... okay." Quinn looked around. They were the youngest there by no less than fifteen years and that was not a crowd he exactly wanted to get chummy with. "I start in with trans jokes if I get comfortable enough and that is not the kind of impression I wish to be making tonight." He knew himself. If he got a drink in him and loosened up just enough he'd start talking and he really didn't want to accidentally shoot himself in the foot.

“The basement it is. I don’t exactly get chummy either. They’re all too nosy. They know too much.” Rachel grabs too mojitos and links arms with him. “You look nice, you know.”

Quinn grimaces with a laugh. "Can't blame you there." He smiled as Rachel linked arms with him. "Thank you, so do you. But then, you always do."

“We both know that’s not true.” Rachel keeps smiling, despite the way her stomach drops. “I’m glad you showed up.” Rachel leads him to the basement. A mini stage with a piano and microphone- bedazzled of course.

"Yes it is." He smiles, an almost inaudible, "At least to me,"added in under his breath. Quinn looks over at Rachel, a bemused smirk on his face. "The way you were texting me, I thought you didn't want me to be here." He can't help but shake his head at the sight of the basement. This brought back memories. "Now this brings back memories."

“A girl can be convinced. Alcohol loosens me up and that helps.” She’s reads to word vomit but stops herself. “Yes. Quinn the angry drunk. How badly I wanted to hug you the. Despite me being weepy.”

Quinn is slightly concerned by what Rachel says. Was this just alcohol induced chill? Could it get flipped? "Quinn is still an angry drunk, but he gets that from his father." He sighs. "Well, no, only when anything with wine in the name is used to get him there." It was true. His father had been a wine based alcoholic and it seemed anytime Quinn drank wine or even wine coolers he had a higher tendency to be an angry drunk. Any other time he tended to be a flirty, and usually horny, drunk.

“I know he wasn’t a nice guy. You deserve a nice dad.” Rachel starts towards the stage, and takes a seat on the edge of it. “No wine. It’s not my families style really. I happen to like red wine, but only sometimes.”

Quinn shrugged. "C'est la vie." He joined Rachel on the edge of the stage, taking off the blazer he was wearing and rolling up the sleeves of the long sleeved shirt he was wearing. He needed to invest in nice, short sleeved shirts, that weren't button downs. He set the blazer on the stage off to his side and looked over at Rachel. "Nothing wrong with liking wine, it just doesn't agree with me."

“I’ve been thinking about you. I should say I still haven’t stopped thinking about you.” Rachel lifts her drink and takes a sip. “I wish I could give you what you’re wanting.”

Quinn's eyebrows furrowed at what Rachel said. She'd been thinking about him? "It took a long time," and a lot of sex, "before I could keep myself from thinking about you, honestly." He sighed, leaning his forearms on his elbows, looking down at his feet. "And then there you were again." Quinn took a sip of his drink, shrugging. "I made your life a living hell for three years, I should be grateful you even want to be around me."

“What did you think about?” Rachel follows his gaze to his shoes. “I figured you ran from all the bad stuff. That you wanted to get away from the girl you couldn’t stand. I want you to stand me.” She admits softly. “I’m sorry that I keep acting like I want you to go away.”

"A lot of things." He admitted quietly. "Your legs. The way you light up when you get into a song. Your smile. Your voice. All the times I made you cry, when I wish I hadn't. That slap at prom..." Quinn looked over at Rachel as she spoke, ignoring the urge to reach over and touch her. "It was never you. Everything I did, that I said... It was never really about you. It was me and miss-attributed hate." He took a sip of his drink with a chuckle. "Karma's a bitch, yeah?"

“I didn’t mind the slap.” Rachel whispers, a smirk playing at her lips as she reached for his hands. “I’ve always thought about how much your eyes say. Your fingers. How toned you are.” She rolls her eyes. “This isn’t karma. This is fate. You were the only one to see the bad in me. It feels good not to be alone.”

Quinn raised his eyebrow at her whisper, extending the hand not holding his drink out to Rachel, palm up. He can't help but flex his hand as she speaks. "I saw all of you, I just focused on the bad. If anything, I made them worse than they really were. Poked at what I knew would cause the most harm and kept going. I was manipulative, evil, even." His hand curled into a fist as he spoke, sighing.

“I forgive you. I need to because I know you didn’t mean it. My dads know you didn’t mean to.” Rachel smiles. “We’re okay, right?” Rachel lets go of his hand and jumps off the stage. “I meant what I said. I don’t think I can give you everything. I just want to find good feelings. Physical feelings. You’re looking for the internal good. My mind doesn’t want to be swayed.”

Quinn sighs, looking up at her a soft smile on his face. "And I stand by what I said, I won't make you do anything you don't want to. I just feel like one of us is going to regret it, doing this physical thing. And you'd be getting a lot more out of it than I would. I don't let people touch me, there. I don't let people get near there and as much as I'm sure you'd be a pillow princess, I don't really like non-mutual sex. I will do anything else, just not to that degree." He looked down at his shoes for a few minutes before meeting Rachel's eyes. "But, yes, we're okay. We can figure out something that works for you, for us, but... I know how to make people feel good physically."

“I’m not selfish.” She says s bit defensively. “But I’m not trying anything. I just want you to know where I am. I can’t let someone in the way you want to be. I don’t believe you don’t have ill intentions because I don’t deserve better then that. I really don’t. You thinking I’m selfish proves it. I haven’t changed. I’ll never change.”

Quinn sets down his drink and is immediately on his feet again. Closing the distance between himself and Rachel a resounding 'crack' echoed through the basement as Quinn slapped Rachel. Then his hands are at either sides of her face. "Shut up! Do not put words in my mouth!" The hand over where he slapped her his soft, rubbing her cheek, with his thumb. The other more firm, not wanting to let her go. "You deserve so much, Rachel. You deserve to love and be loved. I think you're stubborn and talented and brilliant. Being selfish can save your life and keep you safe. I am as selfish as they come, Rachel."

Rachel’s hand goes up to touch her face but just meets his hand. Her eyes are wide and she tries to shake him away. “You said it. You did. Saying I’d be a pillow princess.” She doesn’t want to hear him. She’s being selfish in an entirely different way than she was before. “You we’re doing what you needed to do to save yourself. Even if it meant to had to leave me.”

Quinn growls, one hand slipping from her cheek to behind her neck. "I didn't mean it like that, I just meant you'd make a good one, given I wouldn't let you return the favor." He sighs, forehead resting against Rachel's. Her words register but the last get stuck on repeat. Everything about them told him so much. Because she took it personally. She took his leaving to mean something more than it was. He has a feeling he knew why, just given everything, but he needed to hear her say it. "Why were you upset I ran away, Rachel? Tell me the truth and then tell me why you're fighting it now."

She feels hot, all over, and his questions just send her into a tailspin. “Because it meant is never get you to.” Rachel pauses, fists clenching. “I’d never get you to like me back.” She can’t help herself and closes the space between them to kiss him deeply.

Her words hit him but before he can do anything her lips are on his. He returns the kiss, the hand on her cheek leaving to slip around her waist and the hand on her neck held her closer, tangling in her hair. As he pulls away, he swallows hard. "Well I'm here now and I do like you. I have for so long."

She whimpers at the loss and looks to her feet. “It’s different now. I’m different now. I’m not who you like anymore.”

He uses the hand in her hair to somewhat forcefully make her look at him when she looks at her feet. "So am I. That's what time does. It changes us. So how about you stop fighting and let me decide for myself if you've changed too much."

“Fine.” She whispers, the forcefulness getting through to at least a little. “Time just didn’t change me for good. I feel that. I know that. I want you to get what you deserve.”

"I don't care. When I say I want you, I want all of you. And yes, that means the bad stuff too. Because you can't tell me I'm not part of that bad. You can't tell everything I did and said to you didn't fuck you up." He places a soft, tentative kiss to her lips. It's quick and barely there. "I can't fix the damage I caused but I'd give everything to be around to help when you do. If that's what you want."

“I just want you.” She says after a while. Choosing to ignore most of what he said. Not because his words aren’t meaningful, but she doesn’t want to admit that there is damage. That she can’t be fixed.

"But will you give me all of you? Will you give me the honor of getting to take you on dates, even if they're just foreplay for the physical? Will you give me that?" His words are quiet and he finds himself pulling away, scared of the answer she might give him. Scared of the rejection he's gotten every time from her. "Will you give me a chance to get something out of giving you the physical?"

“Okay.” She nods, slowly, unsure. But wanting to make him happy. It would make her happy. “You don’t owe me the physical. It’s okay.”

He smiles at her, surprised by her acceptance and he can't help but chuckle as he steps back into her face, a hand once again returning to the back of her neck as he pulled her into a kiss. His other hand found one of hers. "But if you want it, I will happily give it to you."

“I just need something. I need a new kind of release.” She admits softly. “It’s not something I can do for myself.” Rachel sighs, just looking him in the eyes.

"I think I can manage that." He smiles at her before kissing her again. He then begins to kiss his way to her ear. "Tell me, would you think about me when you were alone?"

“You were the only one I ever thought of.” Rachel whispers, blushing. “It was so easy to pretend when I had an audience. But alone- always puts.”You*

Quinn grins, nipping at her neck. "Will you put on a show just for me? Here and now?"

“What kind of show?” Her eyebrow raises, already beginning to slide the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders.

"Whatever kind of show you want to put on for me." At that point Quinn wasn't sure, but he wanted it. He wanted whatever Rachel would give him. He kissed her neck, tempted to bite down, to leave his mark. But he thought better of it. It wasn't in anyone's best interest to mark her. Even if he wanted to.

“You’re teasing.” Rachel mumbles, biting down on her lip hard. “I’d like to put on many shows for you. But there’s not enough time.” She whines

"Am I? What do you want me to do?" He breathed against her ear, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "So put one on for now and I'll invite you over later."

“I want more than you just...doing that. Only getting so close.” Rachel doesn’t know where her bravery has come from, but she starts inching the skirt of her dress up her legs to reveal more of herself. “Invite me over. We should probably head upstairs.”

Quinn chuckled at her words. His eyes catch the movement down her leg and grins. "If we go upstairs are you going to show me more of you?"

“Shall I show more of you now and take my turn in teasing you?” She lifts up her drink from the stage and finishes it. “I’ll do anything you want, Quinn.”

Quinn grins. "I'd love to see more of you, m'dear." He licks his lips as he grabs his own drink and takes a long drink of it. "Tease me if you can." He takes a seat on the edge of the stage, leaning back on his elbows. "Show me what I want."

Rachel swallows down the nervous lump forming in her throat and she slowly begins pushing her dress down further off her shoulders, revealing her lack of bra and just enough cleavage. “Okay?”

Quinn grins as he watches Rachel, licking his lips. His eyes travel down her form. "I thought you were trying to tease me. C'm'ere." He beckoned her closer with finger as he sat up.

“I was.” She whispers, listening to his words and going back to him. “Did I do something wrong?”

Quinn smiles at her, taking her hips in his hands, pulling her between his knees. "The key to teasing is all in the hips, dear. Pick a song with a good beat. Move to that beat. Make every movement count. It's not just about showing me, it's about making me wait. Do not be fast to please."

She can’t help but feel like she’d done something wrong, but Rachel finds it easy to fall into the negative. “Later.” She whispers, biting her lip again. “When we aren’t a floor away from my dads. When I can. When I can really dance for you.” Rachel quickly grabs his hands and pulls them from her hips, but easily placed them on her chest. “Later.” She repeats, to herself more than Quinn.

Quinn sighs. "Fine." He grumbles. He can understand why but it annoys him and not in the way teasing might. It annoys him in a way that makes him want to leave. To be angry. But its not on her. He knows that. He knows he keeps expecting too much. Sighing, he pulls his hands back from her lays back on the stage with a groan, staring at the ceiling. "This was a bad idea. I'm too sober, you're too tipsy. And they're too close." He covers his face with his hands, nails digging into his hairline.

Rachel can’t help but twist his words. But she says nothing, just nodding along to his words- thankful when her dad pokes his head down announcing dinner. “We should go.” She’s quick to her feet, hoping she could get away with divvying up everyone’s plate so she could ignore her own.

"Go up without me, I need a minute alone, please." He racked his hands through his hair, trying to keep from hissing as his nails scraped his scalp. Quinn needed to get himself under control. There was old rage rising to the surface. Rage he'd buried, mixed with newer anger. Rage he could so easily take out on Rachel, like he once had, but he wasn't that person anymore. He refused to be that again.

“What can I do? What do you need?” Rachel can’t help but hold a hand out to him. “Let me help.” She whispers. “Please.” It’s not hard to see he’s not okay.

Quinn huffs. "I need you to give me a minute alone, please." His voice was pleading. He needed her gone. He needed to be alone. Old habits died hard and he could just as easily slip down a rage fueled rabbit hole, taking everything out on Rachel but he didn't want that. He didn't want to hurt her. But he didn't want her to see what was to come. What he would choose to do to himself instead.

“But what are you going to do?” Rachel steps back, but doesn’t leave. “Let me do something Quinn. Please.”

"Leave. That's all you can do right now." His voice is steeled. He needs her to leave but he doesn't want to yell at her. "Rachel, please. You're only going to make this worse for all involved."

“Make what worse?” Rachel sits back beside him and reaches for his hand. “Let me understand, please. Let me be here.”

"I refuse to hurt you. Please. Don't force my hand on this. I don't need to backslide that far." He pulled his hand away, crossing his arms, doing his best to not dig his nails in. They were short but he knew had to cause damage and pain with them.

“But what if I want you to?” She has no idea what she’s saying. But she knows she means the words. “I love you. You’re not backsliding. You’re so much better.”

"No one will appreciate what I'd do to you. Please, don't do this to me. I need you to leave." He groans. Why won't she leave? "If you stay I will! Please, don't name me into that person again. Don't do this to me."

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” Rachel stomps her foot. She didn’t understand anything right now.

Quinn clenched his teeth. "For fucks sake, Berry! Just leave me be before I do something to you I will regret!" He's seething, nails digging into his arms. "Do not turn me back into the person who took out his anger on you because I can't handle that again! I can't handle torturing other people anymore."

“Like leave me?” She gets back up and leaves him, like he’s asked. Rachel wasn’t going to watch him leave. That is the worst he could do now, it had to be what he meant.

She stands beside her daddy at the piano and sings a song with him- how they tended to start their meals with guests and she’s quick to help dish out food, the smile staying plastered on her face.

Quinn just growled at what Rachel said, letting out a sigh of relief when she made her way back upstairs. With a hiss, he racked his nails down his arms. It was stupid. He knew that. He knew that taking it out on himself wasn't productive either, but this was better than lashing out. It was better than hurting someone else.

After a while, feeling far more like himself, even with too many stinging lines down both his forearms, he rolled his sleeves back down, grabbed his blazer and the empty glasses and headed back upstairs. He made a point to apologize for his tardiness, making up some sort of excuse that didn't include clawing the shit out of his arms.

The minute Quinn comes back Rachel places his plate down and is quick to exit the dining room. She has a plate in her hands, but she has no intentions of eating it. She takes one look back before rushing up the stairs to her bedroom. She no longer wanted to do that. Act like she’s fine. Entertain the questions that we’re sure to come.

Quinn wanted to follow Rachel as she left but he was in no position to make sure someone else was okay. He was barely together himself. So, he settle in, not sure he had the stomach for actually eating but he knew how to pretend. He knew how to get away with not eating how much he should be.

The Berry men want to question the issue but instead the ignore that Rachel isn’t there- used to her absence and make small talk amongst their guests and including Quinn in when relevant.

Quinn did his best to be an attentive guest, but between the stinging in his forearms and the nagging worry about Rachel in the back of his head, he wasn't sure what kind of impression he was making. He also just didn't have much to say on most of the subjects they touched on, being too young and inexperienced to really have an opinion.

As the night started to come to a close Quinn slipped upstairs, knocking gently on Rachel's door. He wasn't sure if she'd answer but he at least wanted to try and bid her goodnight before he left.

“It’s open.” She calls out softly, curled up in her bed. She’s just assumed Quinn had left. Rachel has no intentions of going back up the stairs.

Quinn opened the door and stuck his head in. "Hey you." His voice is gentle. "Can I come in?"

“I’m not going to stop you.” She mumbles, rolling over so she isn’t facing him.

He steps into the room, closing the door softly behind him. Part of him wanted to move over to the bed but chose to keep his distance. "I just wanted to say good night." He bit his lip, looking down at the ground. "And I wanted to say I'm sorry about how I acted in the basement, especially before dinner." Quinn absentmindedly rubs his arms, biting back a hiss as the stinging starts up again.

“Just don’t. Just go. It’s what you need, you said so yourself. You don’t need to sugar coat it. We all know you didn’t before.” Her words are bitter.

"What?" He moved over to the bed, sitting on the edge. "I said nothing about needing to leave, Rachel. And I'm not sugar coating anything."

“You said you didn’t want to hurt me. The worst thing you did was leave me. That’s the only thing that would hurt me.” She still doesn’t face him.

"I meant physically. Had you'd stayed down there with me, I can't guarantee I wouldn't have left you bruised. I couldn't do that. I couldn't risk it." He looks down at his feet. "I wouldn't forgive myself if I did that. If I'd taken out what I was feeling on you."

“Can’t you just.” Her brows furrow. “I liked when you slapped me.” Rachel says after a few moments. Unsure what else she could say in the moment.

"The state I was in, I wouldn't have just slapped you, Rachel. I'd have kept going, I probably would have thrown punches. I couldn't do that. Not and feel okay. That's not me anymore. Lashing out at other people." He leans forward, forearms on his thighs, hissing at the increase in pain.

“I want you to hurt me. And stop hurting yourself.” She doesn’t even know the extent of it. “I’d let you. Just not punching and not my nose.”

"No. I promised myself, no matter what happened, I wouldn't do that to someone else, not how I had been. But especially not to you." He wasn't going to do that to her, or anyone, ever again. Even if it meant hurting himself instead.

“You can’t give me what I need.” Rachel says after a while of silence.

Quinn scoffed. "There's a difference between lashing out on someone and hurting them and getting rough with them on purpose. One is abuse, the other is consensual pain. You want the latter. What would have happened in that basement, would have been the former."

“Why did you come up here?” She turns so that she can face him. “I don’t need the difference, you know.”

"Like I said, I wanted to wish you goodnight and apologize. I guess I've done that, so I guess I can go." He stood, looking over at her for a few moments before sighing and making his way back over to the door. "Getting someone else to cause you pain is no different than causing it to yourself. Just so you know."

“I don’t hurt myself.” Rachel says with a raise of her voice. She climbs out her bed- nearly falling at her quickness but she’s quick to get between him and the door. “Don’t go.”

"But you want me to do it. And believe me, I know what I'm talking about." He sighs as she comes between him and the door. "Why not?"

“Then do it. Please.” Rachel bites down on her lip, hard. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

Quinn sighs, closing his eyes briefly. "Why? So I'm punishing us both tonight?" He leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek. "I'm just going home. That's all. I'll still just be a text and a quick ride away,"

“Yes.” Rachel breathes, not taking the weight of his words. She turns her head and kisses him, hard and bruising. “Don’t leave. Please.”

Quinn sighs into the kiss before biting her lip, pulling it back before letting go. He forces her up against the door. "Why do you need punishing, hmm?" He'd seen the plate, knowing well enough it hadn't been touched and he wondered if she'd tell him. If she'd admit to it or if there was something else.

Her eyes widen as she looks at him, shaking her head. “I just. I like it. I-I want it.” Rachel stumbles over her words. “Please.” She pleads.

Quinn takes a deep breath, rolling his neck for a few moments. "Safe word. Now."

“I don’t want to safe word.” Rachel whispers. “I don’t. I don’t want to be safe.”

"If you want this, you will give me a safe word or I'm walking out. Because a safe word isn't just for you." He moved his hand to the doorknob.

“Red.” She breathes. “Don’t leave me!” Rachel says desperately.

At her answer he smirked, pulling his hand away from the doorknob. "Now I don't have to." He leaned in and bit her neck, hard. "You're going to dance for me. Be naughty for me, and I'll punish you for it. Is that what you want?"

Rachel whimpers, nodding her head. “Yes. It’s what I want. I need it.” She takes a shaky breath. “Need you.”

"Then you'll dance for me. Do you need me to show you how?" He growls out, raking his teeth down her throat before pulling away.

Rachel just shakes her head, the minute he lets her go she moves to turn on some music, hips swaying to the beat. “Better?”

Quinn chuckles, moving over to the bed and taking a seat. His eyes move up and down her form. "Much."

She can’t help but beam. She’d rid herself of the dress the moment she’d entered her room and traded it in for silk pajamas. The shorts show off her long legs and as she continues to move her hips she begins to undo the buttons of the top- slow.

His eyes were mostly on her legs, those legs he'd watched for so long and now they moved just for him. When she started to undo the buttons on her pajama top he found his eyes rising to watch, licking his lips at how she moved. "You were holding back, earlier. How rude of you." He growled out.

“Hmmmph, I needed you to show me.” Once she has the top completely open, Rachel watches him, eager for his response as she slides it off. She hooks a thumb on each side of her shorts and turns so that her backside is facing him. Her hips continue to circle and roll as she begins to slide them down.

Quinn's eyebrow raised at her words, but the other quickly joined as she finished opening the shirt, swallowing hard. "Such a naughty girl for me." He bites his bottom lip, groaning slightly as she turns her back on him. There's the spark of something he hadn't truly felt in so long and he moans.

“I’ve always been naughty for you.” Rachel murmurs as she ride herself of the shorts, leaving her in black lace panties. Part of her wants to cover herself but the other part knows she deserves to be ridiculed this way. She easily turns back to face him, biting her lip seductively.

Quinn's jaw drops open and he inhales sharply. God she was gorgeous and she was all his. This was just for him, no one else. Some part of him is glad he's not had bottom surgery because there was no doubt in his mind he'd be sporting a raging hard on. "Look at you, so exposed for me. " He stands up as he speaks moving over to Rachel, immediately reaching around to slap her on the ass, a grin spreading across his face.

Rachel can’t help but shiver at his words, never having felt so desired before. Not with Finn or Jesse or the boys she’d met in school. “That’s not enough.” She whispers

He chuckles at her words, immediately repeating the action a few times in rapid succession, aiming to hit her harder than he had. "Such a naughty girl aren't you? Wanting me to do this to you here." He growls out, his free hand tangling in her hair and pulling it, hard, before kissing her, biting her lip.

She yelps as he pulls her hair, and is happy for the kiss. Relieved even. “Anywhere.” She whines at him. “Anywhere you want.”

He grins into the kiss before biting his way down her neck. "You like your pain, hmm? How do you do it to yourself?" He's genuinely curious if she does, and if so, how. It's so interesting how reactive she is to it all. Pulling her hair again, the hand on her ass reaching down to his nails up her thigh, knowing just how to drag his nails to cause pain.

“Yes.” Rachel purrs our, liking the way he focused on her neck. “I could show you.” She can’t help but back up into his hands, always wanting more.

Quinn grins. Some part of him is highly aware that they are in her bedroom, in her fathers' house, and he was only supposed to be wishing her goodnight. The reality that they could get caught doing this almost made it better. He bites down on her pulse point, working to leave his mark before pulling away. "Show me."

She cries out, but is quick to put her hand over mouth to stop herself from being too loud.

Rachel turns the music up and leads him to the bathroom inside her room. “Sit.” She motions for the edge of the tub.

Quinn chuckles and follows her into the bathroom. Taking a seat on the edge of the tub, he watches Rachel, curious to see just what he's about to witness.

She bends down, still covered in her under clothes, black and lace, and she opens up the bottom drawer attached to the sink. She pulls out a few items and places them on the counter. A pink flogger, a small purple paddle with a gold star painted on it, and nipple clamps. "Pick one."

Quinn watches her move, licking his lips. As the choices are presented to him he grins, impressed by the selection. Standing, he slides one of his sleeves up, making sure not to roll it up too far. He then picks up the flogger and tests it on his exposed wrist before rolling his sleeve back down. Setting the flogger down, he picks up the paddle, smacking it few times against the heel of his palm. Setting it back down he ran his fingers over the nipple clamps, thinking. The flogger could be used on multiple parts of the body far easier than the paddle. The nipple clamps, well, the had one purpose and one purpose only.

In an executive decision, he picked up the flogger and the nipple clamps. Slipping the former into his pocket he held out the nipple clamps to Rachel.

Rachel just watches him, eager to seethe choice he will make. She’s pressing her thighs together as he tests them all out and the slightest sound leaves her as the coolness of the clamps on her palm.

Rachel undoes her bra, revealing little bruises along her breasts but she doesn’t wait for a reaction and instead she applies the clamps on each nipple.

“Give me the flogger.” She begs

Quinn grins as he watches Rachel, an eyebrow quirked at the little bruises. A chuckle escapes his lips when she begs. "Oh no, dear, I'll be using that." He grinned, picking up the paddle and handing it over instead. Quinn honestly wanted to see how Rachel managed it. He also just didn't want to properly choose and he can't imagine Rachel will object. He is vaguely aware of an ache between his legs, something he hadn't particularly felt, much less indulged in ages. Hopefully he could make it through this and get home without it getting too bad, or maybe he'd just get lucky and a boner killer will come along between now and then.

Rachel’s face falls when he denied her, but she takes the paddle eagerly and slowly presses it against the chain of the clamps, for the slight pulling sensation.

But then she’s quick to bend herself over the counter, sticking her butt out. And though it’s nowhere near as good as someone else bring in control of the instrument she begins to let it crack down on her back side without warning.

Quinn can't help the moan that escapes his lips, silently cursing his decision to pack because all it did was make it worse. He pulled at the collar of his shirt, swallowing hard.

“How many does a naughty girl deserve?” Rachel looks over her shoulder at him, noticing his discomfort and unsure how to approach it.

Quinn thinks for a moment. "Ten is a good number for a naughty girl." He growls out as he moves over to her, running his hand down her back, nails digging in, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

Rachel whimpers at the feel of his nails. When his hands pull away she gives herself ten cracks with the paddle on each cheek, leaving herself a whimpering mess as she drops the paddle to the floor.

Quinn moans as he watches Rachel, oddly surprised at how much it turns him on. As she finishes and drops the paddle he steps up behind her, leaning over her, keeping her against the counter. "Such a naughty girl." He growls against her ear as one of his hands reaches around to run a finger along the front of Rachel's panties. "You imagine it's me doing it, don't you? That it's me causing you pain. Because that's what you like. You like it when I hurt you, when I punish you." It's almost like a certain switch has flipped and where Quinn would normally be unable to say those words, they simply come easy. His finger teases against her panties as his other hand tugs periodically on the chains of the nipple clamps. "Do you want more, my naughty girl?" He asks as he bites her neck.

Despite Rachel being in a constant state of turned on, she hadn’t thought this would turn sexual. Despite the being half naked part. But then he begins touching her and the growl she hears escape him sounds more primal than she’d ever thought it did before. “It’s always been you.” She admits for what has felt like the millionth time. “I want more, daddy.” She whimpers

Quinn loves the power that he seems to have being with Rachel like this. The way she reacts to him. He likes hearing her admit it. That she thinks of him. It shouldn't turn him on, but it does. And then something else he never expected happens and he moans into her neck. "Daddy's naughty girl wants more, does she?" He breathes out, still in minor shock that he likes it. Maybe it was the kick it seemed to give his dysphoria, the validation wrapped up in something so obscene. What he knew was that it was really hot and he was going to need a cold shower and maybe dildo he kept for when someone else just didn't cut it, when he got home.

"Tell daddy what you want from him."

She’s getting a taste of her own medicine, having him ask all the questions. Leaving her in a state of anticipation and wondering what it is she really wants from him.

Her slip of mouth has her tensing but hearing him say it back to her as her moaning for him. “I want you to hurt me, daddy. Make me earn my rewards.”

He relishes her moan and as he hears her speak, he pulls his hand away from where it'd been teasing her. Standing up straighter, he grabs both her wrists in one hand and pulls her up and to him, staring at her through the bathroom mirror from over her shoulder. "Such a beautiful girl. Just wait until you're so clearly mine." He drives his point home by biting her shoulder. "I'm going to let you go and you're going to go get on the bed and present yourself for me. If you have a scarf to keep yourself quiet, get it. If you don't, well, you better hope you don't get me caught." And like that, he lets her go.

She didn’t think she’d miss his hand but she cries out at the loss but it’s quickly silenced by the slightest yelp as he pulls her by her hands.

Rachel wants to yell at him for complimenting her but it would be all too telling.

So she just nods her head and makes her way to her bed, she grabs a scarf for good measure but instead of putting it in her mouth as a gag she uses her panties instead- all sprawled out and open for him.

Quinn takes a few moments once Rachel leaves the bathroom to collect himself. He feels like he's burning up and he splashes water on his face to no real avail. Drying off his face, he adjusts his packer, biting back the groan as it rubs into him. God, he hasn't been this turned on in ages and there's no current relief in sight.

When he no longer hears noise from the bedroom he leaves the bathroom, gasping at the sight before him. He pulled the flogger from his pocket, swirling it in his hand as he walks over. For a few moments he just looked at her, flogger still spinning in his hand. Then, in a quick motion, he brings it down across her upper thighs. First one way and the the other. "You've been such a naughty girl."

Rachel sits up when he spots him exiting the bathroom. Part of her wants to gasp, but instead she stays quiet just following him as he gets closer, teases her with the swing of the flogger and flick of his wrist. When it finally hits her skin her eyes close, feeling slight relief, but she realized she doesn’t want to stop how into this he is and her eyes open again.

Quinn watches Rachel react, smirking at the way she looks. He's not entirely sure what he's doing but he knows he likes it. He brings it down directly between her legs, just to see. Marveling slightly at the way the tips come away wet. Lord, he'd never imagine this would be something he was into. He liked being on the receiving end of a rough night, but there was something intoxicating about being the one dishing it out. An old power he never imagined he'd feel again, much less be okay feeling again.

Her hips arch off the bed when the pink leather hits her where it counts the most. There’s a muffled whimper that you could hear if waiting for it, but the panties closed between her teeth really do their job in keeping her quiet. Her legs press together and her eyes are just wide as she stares at him. This very scenario having run through her head for so many years.

A Cheshire grin spreads across Quinn's face at the way she reacts, the muffled whimper. It's a shot directly to his core. As her legs press together he gets an idea, grabbing the nearby scarf and using it to tie one ankle to the bed post. However, he isn't sure what else to use for the other and before he can think twice about it the flogger is between his teeth and he's pulling his shirt off. He just has to ignore the angry lines on his forearms as he finishes tying Rachel down.

Smirking behind the flogger he eyed his handiwork. And then he's back at it, striking between her legs in rapid succession.

Rachel doesn't even resist him as her ankle gets tied. Her eyes just widen and darken and she wants to say so many things, but stops herself. She just watches him rid himself of his shirt and then both ankles are held back. He's really a piece of art, all smooth skin, obvious importance in his body, but then there is the marks. Rachel is pulled out of her thoughts though as he is back striking her and she's crying against the fabric of her panties- unsure how to communicate for more.

Quinn can't get enough of the way Rachel looks at him, the sounds she's making. With a few more strikes between her legs he moves to kneel on the bed, positioning himself between her legs. He strikes her abdomen, watching the way wet streaks were left in the leather's wake. His other hand begins to rake repeatedly down her thigh.

A thought occurred to him and he changes his grip on the flogger, he struck his own palm a few times with it, grinning slightly before testing it again on his wrist. Satisfied that it's what he wants, he strikes Rachel's abdomen with the handle end, just to see how she reacts.

She doesn't know what to expect when he moves positions, but she watches, eager for it. There is no fear, no worry, she just feels ready for him. Rachel's nose crinkles as he hits himself instead of her- grabbing for the fabric to take from her mouth right as Quinn hits her with the other end. There's tears stinging behind her eyes but she just cups her mouth in hopes to muffle the loud cry that leaves her. She's never been so thankful for music before.

Quinn raises an eyebrow at the way Rachel had reacted just before he'd struck her. "Daddy isn't going to something to his little girl that he isn't sure he'd like. He has to make sure he's punishing her right." He explains as he strikes her again on the other side of her abdomen. Quinn then flips it over and strikes her between the breasts.

Rachel just nods slowly. She believes she understands his intentions- that he’s just giving her what she so badly wanted and making her wait for the things she didn’t believe she could@be patient for. Her chest heaves at the strike and her hands reach out for him, nails digging into his lower arms. “Please.”

Quinn hisses at the nails in his lower arm, demeanor faltering at the pain registered in his brain. He pulled his arms away, having to catch his breath to sink back into character. "Please, what?" His tone isn't quite back to where it had been before, still working to block the pain out of his mind.

“I didn’t mean to...” she breathes out, trying to sit herself up without use of her legs.” His voice had changed, the hiss didn’t seem to be one of pleasure. “I just need more. Everything. Anything. I don’t know. Whatever you can give me. I can give you.” She’s not making the most sense but she just felt tired.

Quinn has to stand up from the bed when she starts talking. Between her not entirely making sense and the pain in his arms, he can't focus. Running his fingers through his hair he tries to refocus. Anger is bubbling back up and something snaps. He gets back on the bed, letting the rage take over, going at Rachel with the flogger hard and fast. "You and those skirts, teasing me day in and day out. Acting like nothing effected you. You were the real little miss high and mighty, weren't you? You and your gold stars. Doing anything and everything you could to be special. But you never saw it. You never saw the way I watch you walk away. The way my eyes would follow you as you stormed off. Just pissing me off more. Running through my head for years. And still you didn't know how special to me you were." He isn't sure when he started talking but it'd tumbled out of his mouth in the same manner he'd used the flogger against Rachel and as he stopped, it fell out of his hand. "Is that enough for you?"

Rachel’s not there, the words that leave him are spinning through her mind but she’s not present anymore. Instead she’s listening to the flogger hit her skin. She’s focusing on the ache. But at his question Rachel really begins to cry, legs kicking to get out of the restraints. “Yes daddy.”

That word does it and he's leaning in to kiss her. "Has daddy's girl learned her lesson?" He asks against her lips. "Is she ready for that release she was wanting?"

“No.” Rachel shakes her head. “No, just, just undo my ankles and hold me. Please.” She begs, holding out for him.

"Okay." He kisses her gently again and then straightens back up, actually moving to undo the nipple clamps first. "Do you have cream for those?" He asks as he moves off the bed to properly untie her ankles, making sure to inspect each one for marks and give them a gentle rub before setting them back on the bed. He makes a point to clear off the bed and kicking out of his shoes, realizing he hadn't earlier, before settling onto the bed, arms out for Rachel to make herself comfortable.

Rachel kisses back just slightly, needing to be able to move. Needing to get her hands on him. She sniffles at the feel of the clamps coming off and shakes her head at his question.

He’s so gentle with her and when she’s finally free Rachel lunges for his arms, hiding her face in his side. “Your arms.” She whimpers

"Get some, please. Anything that works for runner's nipple will work. I need you to have some by the next time the clamps are used. No excuses." He explains, voice somewhere finishing it's transition back to normal.

When she lunges into his arms, he wraps her tight, burying his face in her hair. He hears her speak and he sighs. "They're okay, baby. They just look worse than they are."

His voice is so serious and she can’t help but nod quickly. “Okay. I promise.” And she’s so relieved when he accepts her into his arms. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry.”

Quinn kisses the top of her head. "Shh, this isn't your fault. I was too in my own head, got angry when I shouldn't have. And old habits die hard, but at least these won't scar." His voice is quiet as he explains, hands gently rubbing Rachel's back. Quinn's not entirely sure why he's telling her so much, except that he feels like he needs to. "I'm glad you left me alone, because this, now, wouldn't have happened. And I would have regretted anything I did to you. I do not regret this."

Rachel kisses his side, trying to be reassuring but not leave her spot nuzzled into him. “I don’t regret this either.” She whispers. “Just don’t stop holding me, please.”

Quinn giggles a little at the kiss to his side. "M'sensative." He mumbles into her hair, still rubbing her back. "Good, I'm glad. Even if I will never be able to look at your father in the face again." He laughs a little bit, but just holds her closer. "I won't let go until you want me to, I promise."

“They’re not scary. They like you.” She mumbles, bringing a hand to his back right as her teeth start clattering. “It’s cold.” Rachel snuggles into him closer. “Please don’t.”

"I'm not afraid of them, dear. I just can't face the man you also call daddy." He pressed a kiss to her head and did his best to shuffle the covers down and then pull them up over them. "I won't, baby."

“I’m sorry.” Rachel flushes, letting her eyes closed. “Okay, daddy. I believe you.”

"Don't be sorry, I like it." He pressed another kiss to Rachel's head, humming quietly. "Good." He liked being able to just hold her, to be close to her like this.

It didn’t take long for Rachel to fall asleep against his side, hand still on his back, and still shivering slightly.

Quinn just held her close, humming quietly into her hair. He wishes he'd got her to get dressed with how she's shivering. He could remember the days of not eating and being more effected by the cold. But there wasn't more he could, he just pulled the covers tighter around them, hoping he could trap the heat around her and get the shivering to stop. Some part of him was aware that at one point in time Rachel's dads always wished her goodnight and that, should they still do so, they'd find him. It wasn't an embarrassing thing, except that their daughter was naked in his arms, his arms that were scratched to hell. But he wasn't going to leave her, even in her sleep. He'd made a promise and he wasn't about to break it. So, he just made himself comfortable and would cross that bridge if/when he came to it.

When Rachel’s eyes flutter open, she feels confused at first. Her lack of clothes, the body she’s pressed against. But she relaxes as the memories flood her mind. She kisses against his side again, in the shape of a heart and she can’t help but giggle at herself.

Quinn wakes up squirming, the feeling of something repeatedly against his side. Then he hears a giggle, registers the body still in his arms and he smiles. "G'morning." He mutters into Rachel's hair. "Sleep well?"

“I don’t remember falling asleep.” She grins, “Did you sleep well?” She cups his face with her palm. “You stayed.”

"You were out pretty fast after." He kisses her forehead. "I did, yeah. One of your dads makes a killer cup of tea." He smiled, nodding. "Of course. I made a promise to not let go til you told me to. I wasn't about to break it." He leaned in and kissed her. "You feeling okay? You were really cold before you fell asleep."

“You got my tea?” Rachel pouts, before it registers. “Are they mad? Are you okay?” She hugs him closer, feeling really grateful. “I’m fine, daddy.” And she raises her eyebrows up with another giggle.

Quinn chuckles. "Yes, yes I did." He smiles. "No, they're not. And yes, I'm fine. Though, they seemed a little worried about my forearms, but I assured them I was fine and thanked them for the tea and not forcing me to leave." He tightens his grip on her, just a little more. A smirk crosses his face. "Good." And then he sighed. "When was the last time you ate something and kept it down? And please, be honest with me."

“I’m worried about your forearms.” Rachel whispers, feeling herself pull away at his question. Rachel sits up, a bit achy, and covers her chest with the sheet. “Why are you asking me that?”

"They're fine." He sits up next to her, exposing his forearms to her. The scratches had faded, for the most part. A few were still raised but no longer red. He looks over at her with a sigh. "Because I care about you and I'm worried you haven't been eating." Quinn looks down at his hands. "Because I've been there and I know the signs."

"I care and worry about you too. You hurt yourself. On purpose. That's not safe behavior." As if she wasn't doing the same sort of things. "I ate dinner last night."

"Not often. It's rare these days. I'm getting better with it." He traced along one of the raised marks. "It's part of why I don't really like letting people see me below the waist. My thighs are just... covered. All healed but still." Quinn sighs, looking at Rachel, eyebrow raised. "I said don't lie to me, Rachel. Now, tell me the truth. When did you eat last?"

"I believe you." Rachel nods again. "You can trust me." And she means that, despite him catching her in her lie. "I don't want to talk about this." Rachel says seriously. "Okay?"

Quinn is quiet for a bit, looking down at his hands. "I know." He smiles slightly but then it falls. "I know you don't, but I need you to. I need to know because if you want it to happen again, I need to know you're not going to pass out on me. And I would love to do it again, but I need you healthy, baby."

"You don't need to know anything." Rachel is quick to climb out of the bed, standing too fast. She fumbles just slightly but catches herself. "Should I even bother looking in the mirror to see if I'm marked up?"

Quinn sighs as Rachel stands up, almost reaching for her when she fumbles but stopping. "Do you want to see my handiwork or?" He's moving from the bed and grabbing his shirt and belt from where he'd left them the night before, having taken off his belt while laying in bed after she'd fallen asleep. Putting both on, he sighed. "Should I just go? I feel as if I've overstayed my welcome."

Rachel just turns her back to him, going to the closet to find something else to change into. Something comfortable, something that would hide her. On her way she kicks the untouched food at the wall. "If that's how you feel, then by all means. I won't make you stay."

Quinn sighed, looking down at the plate she kicked. "I know I overstepped, Rachel, but I am worried about you. The way you got last night, it honestly kinda scared me."

"What are you saying? I didn't try and scare you. I was just...I just. That's what I wanted."

"No, not about that. That didn't scare me. You stopped making sense, around the time you scratched me. Right there before the end. And then after, how cold you got. You didn't stop shivering for ages. I didn't sleep until after you'd stopped." He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. "It scares me because I've been there."

"Please go." She whispers. "I just need to be alone right now. I'm sorry." Rachel feels her lips start to quiver and she just sinks herself onto the ground unable to stop the crying, "Please go."

Quinn stood from the bed but didn't leave, instead he sunk to the ground next to her. "No. I'm not going to leave you crying on your floor. Your fathers would never forgive me, but more importantly, neither would I." He doesn't touch her, but he offers his hands to her. "If you want, I will go sit on the other side of the room, or in the bathroom, but I will not leave you."

"I just want you to stop telling me what to do. " But she takes his hand. "Everyone keeps telling me what to do and I just want it to stop. I can't control anything. Nothing is good but you and I can't just put that on you. It's not your job." She easily moves so that her head is in his lap.

He squeezes her hand gently when she takes it, listening to her speak. When she puts her head in his lap, he starts to run his free hand through her hair. "I'm sorry, baby. I just wanted to look out for you. And I know it's not my job, but I care and I want to be here for you." He leans down and places a kiss on her head. "I want to take care of you, however you'll let me."

“I know. I know. I’m sorry I do appreciate that. But I’m a big girl and I can make my own decisions.” Rachel sniffles, hands moving to swipe at her eyes. “I like how you cared for me last night, daddy.”

"Yes, but you're exhibiting unsafe behavior and while I have very little room to talk, as I exhibit both similar and other unsafe behavior, I do have some. And I just want to be here to help, however I can." He smiles at her, leaning down to kiss her on the lips. "Yeah? Does my little girl want that to happen again?"

“But I’m not asking for help. The same way that you’re not.” Rachel looks up at him, lip beginning to quiver again. “I do, yes. Please.” There’s a slight whine behind her voice. “I’ve never felt like that in my life. It was so powerful and it was all because of you, daddy.”

"I'm in therapy, I asked for my help. Or, more accurately, it was thrust upon me when I was getting medical clearance to start my transition." He corrected. "I never imagined I'd like that, if you can believe it. I'm usually on the receiving end of it." He chuckles a bit. "There's a certain kind of validation as a trans man, being called daddy. And I really liked watching the way you reacted to everything I did." He smiled at her.

“I think there’s our difference. I’m not asking for help.” Should she be? Could she even handle it? On her worst days the smell of food makes her nauseous and on the best she could eat alone in her room and gives up when she can’t throw up on the first try.

“You made me feel good. And you are daddy. Mine.”

"When I say I asked, I was given conditions. If I wanted to transition, I had to be at a healthy weight or I wouldn't be allowed to start. If I wanted it, I had to get help and I decided I wanted it. Maybe daddy could give you that incentive? If you wanted it, of course." Quinn wasn't about to stop what he and Rachel had stumbled into, but he could give her more incentive to get better, extra things to make getting better worth it. "Daddy is glad he could help his little girl." He kisses her again. "I like sitting with you like this."

“What does that mean?” Rachel stands so she can actually get dressed now that she a bit calmer. She slips on a pair of cotton panties with a little bow and a T-shirt that she drowns in. “Like, you don’t give me what I want unless I give you what you want?” She easily comes back to him and touched slightly at his knees. “I’d like it better, sitting on your lap.”

He watches her get dressed, smiling gently as he eyes her. "No. I'd give you more. I'd buy better toys. New things for us to use." He explains, adjusting to sit with his back against the edge of the bed as she returns to him. Quinn smiles, patting his lap. "Then sit, baby girl."

She easily sits, cautious at first of placing all her weight. “ But you need to save your money, daddy. For your surgery and so you can stop.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “Stop doing dangerous jobs.” She sighs softly. “I like rewards.” Rachel adds as an afterthought

Quinn takes her weight easy, holding her close. "But I want my baby girl to get better too." He kisses the side of her head. "And if that means daddy has to put off his surgery to take care of his baby girl, he will." Quinn smiles at her. "Besides, I do have a new job and I might be able to talk to my boss about insurance or something that could help fund said surgery. So I can put more money towards rewarding my baby girl."

Rachel’s head hurts, whether it’s the overload of everything or the gnawing feeling that she needs to eat, she is not sure. “What would I have to do to be a good girl for daddy?”

Quinn smiles, nuzzling her hair a little. "For now, I need to know how long you've gone without eating. Then, I just want you to try and eat something of substance every other day. Starting today. Okay? It doesn't have to be a lot, but it has to be something. I'm not going to tell you what, when, nor how much, I just want you to eat. If you want to come over to my place on those days and let me cook for you, and then take care of you after, we can do that. I just want to see you try, for right now. Until you're a little more comfortable. Okay? You think you can do that? You think you can try for daddy?"

Rachel takes a breath, shaky, filled with nerves. "I think I ate without..." It's Thursday now and she had dinner with Finn's mom on Sunday and she'd not been able to get away to throw it up and thinking about it had exhausted her to the point she'd gone straight to bed. "Sunday." She hides her face in his chest. "I'll try for daddy." Rachel whispers after a long while sitting in silence. "As long as you take care of me."

"Oh, baby." He holds her close, kissing the top of her head, rubbing her back a little. "I will always take care of you, I promise." Quinn kissed her head again. "You ready to go get some breakfast? Or do you want to sit here with me a little longer?"

"I want to take care of you too." Rachel whispers, nodding her head. "We can go get breakfast. I won't go if we wait."

"I know you do, baby." He smiles at her and nods as she speaks. "Okay, let's go get some."

Rachel puts on a pair of leggings and throws her hair up. "Let's go, daddy."

#i: rachel berry #p: rachel berry #p: 003 #p: all

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

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CSUAVS prt 49 she says

Veronica was standing guard in front of Kre'el's room, halting the progress of their mission to visit the woman with minimal fuss made. They'd darted though the palace, as if on a secret mission. With Krolia wanting to speak with him, his mother was likely to pop out of nowhere and spoil their plans. Doubling back, it was a slight trek to find a vent opening they could both reach. A mural decision that had been made with a roll of Lance's eyes and a groan on Keith's behalf at the sight of a grumpy looking Veronica. If he'd had his comms, he could have sent Acxa to distract her but they'd left their comms behind to prevent being interrupted. The half-Galra supposed he would have to apologise to Veronica at some point, but that point wasn't until she apologised to Lance for treating him simply as her little brother. Unhooking the vent cover, Keith dropped down first, nearly taking out the visitors chair as he lost his balance when his eyes met Kre'el's. This plan of theirs seeming somewhat stupider now they'd reached their end goal... and a whole lot stupider when Lance dropped the block of chocolate they'd brought with him down on his head. Mentally glaring at his husband, Keith leapt down off the chair to retrieve the chocolate as Lance lowered himself down, somehow ending up on his arse instead of standing. In her bed, Kre'el gave a coughing laugh. Lance looking to her with too much interest. Resisting the urge to growl, Keith the the chocolate at Lance, before stalking to lean against the back of the visitors chair, attempting to glare her into shutting up until Lance was ready to talk. Kre'el knew exactly what she was doing, using her left hand to lift her oxygen mask off to sit under her chin. "You came back?" Nodding, Lance was tense "I had to. We haven't finished talking" "I see you brought Keith" "He's staying" "He's handsome... If I were three hundred years younger..." Then what? That was plain creepy. Plus... she had nothing he was interested in "He is right here. Lance had questions, and you're going to give him answers while no one is watch us" Kre'el ignored him "What do you want to know? I thought I explained before" Lance took a breath as he started to fiddle with the chocolate wrapper "I want to know about his men. Klearo's men. I want to know what they sent you. You said he was to observe and report to you... did he... did he film me?" Kre'el moved her left hand towards Lance, leaving the mask down under her chin. She barely looked alive, let alone like the woman that had tried to kidnap them "Lance, I'm not sure that will change anything... They're dead. Taken care of after Klearo abused the power we bestowed upon him... I couldn't let them do it again" "So he did... Why? What happened to the film?" Breaking off the chocolate, Lance's hands were shaking "I erased files... after you agreed to help kill Klearo. The data he provided was next to useless. You're pain threshold was higher than expected, as was your healing time. The drugs processed through your system too fast to be effective, only serving to tell us that it wasn't a suitable form of sedation. Other than your marks and high quintessence, there was nothing particularly fascinating until we knew human males weren't biologically designed to carry young... Klearo... he got what he deserved. I never imagined he'd take things that far or that way simply because you bruised his ego" Passing Kre'el a piece of chocolate, the Altean took it in confusion "It's chocolate. It's good..." "Why?" "Why are you giving this to me? You should hate me, like your partner does" "Honestly. I want to hate you. I want to shake you and yell at you, and throw you out the nearest airlock. I want to demand answers to all the questions I have... but when I look at you... I can't... I still see her... Those god awful coffees... Sitting at the bar while you complained about you boss... but I guess he was a friend after all. Kre'el, what happened to Helo? Did you... did you kill him? Did any of them survive?" Gasping, Kre'el coughed as she shook her head "That wasn't me. Not personally. It was... on behalf of Erathus, at the outpost. He was getting to close to our operation. Looking into the missing ships... Pollarck could only do so much in his position... I was told he was apprehended by your Earth friends. I never wanted him to die... I wish we could go back to those days, but it was always going to end like this..." How Lance could sit there nodding, Keith didn't know. Helo was a friend to both of them. Someone else who didn't need to die "And his body?" "Parts... the ones with low quintessence... they served so we could live" Keith drew his brow in disgust. Lance was acting too calm. As if he was simply visiting a friend, not a mass murdering bitch. He was barely holding his tongue. His teeth hurting from how hard he was gritting them. Lance needed this and so far had kept his temper, but he didn't know if that was better or worse "What do you mean?" Placing the chocolate in her mouth, Kre'el sighed around the piece "This is good" Lance wasn't buying it, his voice firm "Kre'el, what do you mean they served so you could live? They served the ship? Then why did they need to be in pieces?" "Lift the blankets... I can't..." Lance went to move as Kre'el said, Keith stopping him by placing both hands on his shoulders and pushing him down. There was no way Kre'el have a weapon on her, but Keith wasn't chancing Lance's health "I'll do it" Stepping around the visitors chair, Keith was slightly rough as he pulled the blankets back to expose the hospital gown Kre'el was wearing, not sure what he was supposed to be seeing "Break the tab on the side, and pull it back. We're all adults here" There was no tab, just the string that tied at the back. Taking the thin fabric in his hands it snapped with ease. With her arm in the left sleeve, Keith gave up and tore the fabric, revealing a sunken stomach littered with thick scars. Eyeing it in revolt, Keith backed away, gathering Lance against him as his boyfriend said nothing "Our bodies are breaking down... you saw my arm... we... wanted to live... We weren't the only ones trying to extend our lives..." "That doesn't make any of this right. You fucking let them hurt him. You could have confessed to him. You could have come to us! You killed thousands of people... How many lives have you destroyed?! Where are the rest of you? You said something about a new home. Where?! How do we get there? How many of you are still there?" "Keith, just... just stop. Please..." Reaching out, Lance pulled the blankets back as Kre'el tried to help. She could freeze for all he cared "She broke... they broke you. How can you just sit there? What happened to all your questions? What happened to you needing these answers?" Lance shot him a glare, smoothing out the piece of blanket near Kre'el's hand. His voice was soft, and far too understanding "Because they just wanted to live... We all want to live... Kre'el, is there another planet? Another home base now that the outpost and ship are gone?" "Yes... a world... we tried to make our own. I don't know if any more will live... not without the ship..." "How do we get there?" "It's all on the ship... the... the pass code is "hope"... you... have an Altean... don't let them use the pods..." With Kre'el running out of breath, Lance broke his hold completely to lift the mask back onto her face. Telling them to go back to the ship was a cop out, in his opinion. Kre'el could be stringing them along. Lance feared having been filmed, and she'd confirmed it. A few doboshes of awkward silence past as Kre'el regained control of her breathing. Lance was biting his lip as he stared at his former friend. It didn't look good for Kre'el. It was like death was in the air "Lance, I think you should ask any other questions you have" Looking up to him, Lance looked back to Kre'el. Just because Lance had accepted things, didn't mean Keith was ready to jump into the same boat. Someone had to stay objective... Which he definitely wasn't being... but wouldn't admit. Taking Kre'el's hand in his was the last straw for Keith. Walking over to the wall, he leaned back against it. If Lance was going to be an idiot, he could get himself out of whatever she did to him "You don't have to talk... just nod or shake your head. Is everyone with that tattoo gone? From Klearo's crew?" Kre'el nodded "And there's more of you out there? That could be dying without the ship?" Kre'el nodded again "And if we unlock the ship, we'll be able to access the records? Including that data you took on Keith and I?" Nodding again, Kre'el was letting one rattling breath after another "And us... our friendship. You regretted what was done? But you were still desperate to survive?" Pulling off her mask, Kre'el coughed "I'm sorry... I wanted you dead... I wanted... if you had a child... I wanted... I wanted... why we had to die... why she had to die... didn't... want you to die... wanted to live" The machine monitoring Kre'el's heart started to beep louder, her hand grasping Lance's harder as she wheezed, trying to talk of her daughter to his boyfriend. Rising, Lance placed her hand on forehead "Babe... should I get Veronica?" "She's dying" "So I should get Veronica?" The beeping was getting louder, Veronica was sure to be in the room any tick as it was. As Kre'el started to flatline, Lance pointed to the door while keeping his eyes on Kre'el "No... Let her go. If they come back in here, they're only going to revive her over and over until her body fails completely. If we do that, we're no better than they were. Let her rest... Que Dios te lleve a su abrazo amoroso y tenga piedad de tu alma. Que descanses en paz en los brazos de tu hija, en el paraíso que es el cielo... Sleep and when you wake, might your daughter be there to accept you with open arms" "Babe?" "It's ok. Kre'el, it's ok to let go. I forgive you..." As the door to Kre'el's room opened, Veronica glared at the pair of them "What are you doing in here? Lance, step away from the prisoner" "She's dead V. It's time to let her go" "She holds important information" "Her body is failing. Bringing her back is too cruel" "I can't simply look the other way. Neither of you are supposed to be in here unsupervised" "God. Put the rules aside. She was a mother and she wanted to save her people. Let her pass in peace. Let her rest" "You don't have the authority to make that decision" "As the person she hurt most here, I say I do" "You're not..." Pushing off the wall with his foot, Keith stood between Lance and Kre'el. Veronica might have a job to do, "Call Shiro and ask him. He'll agree with Lance" "Keith, you..." Behind them, Kre'el continued to flatline, Veronica pushing Keith out the way, before stopping just shy of Lance "She's gone already V. Let her rest with her daughter" "She was valuable" "She was a person. A really fucking misguided person. If Honerva could find rest and redemption, so can she" "You can't make decisions like this" "I make decisions like this all the time. I've lost team members and friends, V. If mami can accept what I do, so can you. You never would have had access to her at all, or to her ship without us. Now it's time she rests..." Placing down Kre'el's hand, Lance moved past Veronica, Keith moving to catch his boyfriend in his arms before he escape "Babe?" "I'm ok... Not ok, but... I knew it was coming" "What do you need?" "Can we go back to the Telula? I need my holopad..." What did he need his holopad for? Kre'el has just died, and Keith's head was still full of questions. Shiro probably wouldn't be too happy that all they got was the code for the prison ship's systems was "hope". Pidge had probably already hacked it, or one of his other officers. They should have kept Kre'el in a pod longer. Even if they'd only taken her out the morning she was being transferred, it'd have given them more time for Lance to talk to her "Babe, I think you're in shock" "I want to write everything down before I forget it... We need to get to that planet to search for any survivors" He should have seen the one coming from a mile away. There was no way Keith was agreeing to them checking it out, but a panic attack or an argument in front of Veronica wouldn't end well for Lance "Ok. Let's get everything written down and talk to Shiro?" "And Coran. Coran knows what "hope" is in Altean. It's probably not been the same word as "hope". Shit. Shiro's not going to be happy" "Shiro said he was happy with what you got from her. We should get out of the way" With Kre'el flatlining and Veronica not yelling directions at medical staff, the staff filtering in to deal with her body were in no rush. Taking Lance out the the room, Lance looked back as Keith tugged him on "What's going on?" "I forgot the chocolate... do you think she liked it?" For the second time that day, shock was starting to set in, Lance stopping again to stare back at Kre'el's room. Chocolate wasn't a priority, and Keith had given Lance's mother more than enough for the stockpile in his possession. Being Lance's mother, she'd wanted to pay for it all, but understood when Keith explained he wanted to pay as it was a personal gift and not just a want. "Yeah. I'm sure she did" "Maybe I should have given her more?" "You saw how sick she was, babe. You made her happy for a few moments" "Do you think she liked it?" "Babe, you just asked me that" "Oh... Oh. I want to go to the Telula..." "That's where we're going" "Ok. I hope she finds peace" "I'm sure she will"

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