#{It never ends well. She thinks its playtime and she is so hard to work with{

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

How about how will the toys react to the reader Who is a Singer and writes music for a Career and how they loved to hear them sing when they are outside playing and singing lullaby's to help them sleep.☺️💙🧡💛❤️ Oh and dancing together as well~ UwU💜✨

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Player in Safe Haven who can sing

★ When you first started your career, it was hard to find good work without much experience. That's what led you to working in the playtime factory. You would mostly compose background music for various projects, think ads and promotional material.

★ You consider yourself half-decent at singing. Sadly, that can't really help you in most of the factory. As you run, hide and try not to get killed by what remains of the tortured children, the thought of singing never crosses your mind.

★ After falling asleep in the Safe Haven and wakening up 10 hours later, you try to make yourself useful. Poppy's idea sounds like trash, so instead you take time to meet everyone. One thing led to another, and you ended up teaching the smaller toys some old nursery rhymes.

★ In the Safe Haven, most of the children adore your songs. Singing along when they know the words and listening carefully when you teach them a new tune. The Player even makes up some new songs, just for them.

★ Poppy can't help but find the while situation silly, but she still shows the toys how to waltz along. Despite the clumsy yet earnest attempts at dancing, everyone seemed to be having fun.

★ The Player finds that Doey has a soft spot for lullabies. When he's feeling restless, you can get him to calm down by sitting next to him and singing a gentle song. Its calming and makes him feel like he can trust you.

[everwitch-magiks]

RWRB Fics Roundup

Hey y’all! Once upon a time I had the ambition to post links on here to all the fics and new chapters that I publish on AO3, and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been an absolute disaster at that over the summer. In my defense I’ve just had so much to write, but that’s not much of a defense seeing as it doesn’t take ages to chuck a link on here. Anyhow. Bottom line is, I’ve severely neglected it, and it’s gotten to a point where I’m just gonna make a post with links to everything I’ve written since June (ish) for you to peruse, so you can see if there’s one that you didn’t catch wind of that catches your eye now. Neat, huh?

So, without further ado, the links! The fics! Let’s go.

Completed works

Love At First Bark General Audiences, AU, tooth-rotting fluff. 3K. “I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

Shameless Explicit, AU, Henry has a reputation. 14K. Henry has a lot of sex. A lot. He's young and in college and there is no shortage of men to fall in bed with. What better time to explore what he likes and what he fucking loves, as well as to catalogue how to make his many, many partners feel as good as possible? It’s all part of the learning experience. And Henry is a very dedicated student.

Alex has been inescapably aware of Henry ever since that one time they kissed. You don’t just stop being aware of the guy who basically caused your sexuality. So when Henry propositions Alex at a lame frat party, Alex accepts eagerly. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. Maybe, if he can just have Henry once, he’ll have a better chance of finally getting over his embarrassing fixation with Henry. It's worth a try.

When The Time Is Right Part four of my sex club series. Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 16K. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?” “That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.” “Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.” It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.” Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”

When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.

Out For A Bite Explicit, AU, suspense and supernatural elements. 3K. Henry's eyes fly up, zeroing in on the reflection in the mirror. There, behind him. The man from the bar. He looks different in the fluorescent bathroom lights. Sharper. There’s a look in his eyes that has Henry shivering all over again. It's greedy. Hungry.

He’s staring right at Henry.

Henry's throat feels dry. His heart beats madly. He's heard whispers of this place, and more importantly of its patrons. He thinks he knows what this man is.

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) Explicit, AU, Alex and Henry in DIY Punk & mainstream pop punk, respectively. 34K. Teenage music sensation Kensington have taken the world by storm. With their cool leather jackets and wickedly distorted guitars, they're a pop duo that packs a punch. Or at least they sound like one—their lyrics unfortunately lack any semblance of depth. Alex can't fucking stand Kensington. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to. He’s not likely to cross paths with those British pop losers during his final semester of high school in Texas. And even if he did, he'd never let some stupidly attractive blonde take his focus away from the goal that Alex has worked towards for years: winning the Austin Band Slam with his latino punk trio.

But when Henry comes crashing into Alex's life, with his intriguing piano pieces and piercing blue eyes and slow, purposeful kisses that make Alex burn with want, Alex finds that he might need to reevaluate his stance on both pop losers and distractions. Or maybe not. Maybe he’s better off keeping Henry at arm's length, since it's so painfully evident that Henry will never love him back.

Never Tell Me The Odds Teen and Up Audiences, canon verse, an outside perspective on First Prince as well as a story about a certain Star Wars mural. 2K. "Wait!" Alex yells up to the driver. "Stop! Stop the car!" Up close, it's beautiful. Two stories tall. He can’t imagine how somebody was able to put together something like this so fast.

Ash had never imagined that they'd get the chance to actually meet Alex Claremont-Diaz, and much less get the chance to tell Alex about how that very special Star Wars mural came to be. Although of course, Ash never would have met Alex if it hadn’t been for Farida. Farida and her bold courage, and her warm compassion, and her sometimes infuriating (but always endearing) stubbornness.

yrs. faithfully (with nowhere to go) Explicit, canon verse, a lazy morning in bed leads to something more. 3K. When Alex and Henry wake up together the day before their anniversary, they're genuinely planning on getting out of bed and spending the day as productive members or society. Truly, their intentions are honorable. But a trip down memory lane gets them reminiscing about that night exactly one year ago, when Alex had come running through the rain to deliver some choice words about obtuse fucking assholes.

As Alex and Henry start to relive the memory, they quickly realize that they both remember it intimately. So intimately that they might be able to pull off something of a do-over.

Gadgets and Gizmos A-Plenty A companion piece to dearest Hattie’s soulmate fic. Mature, AU, a look into Henry buying sex toys. Yes. That’s the fic. 2K. There’s a bunch of regulars that Amir knows by name (and, unavoidably, by kinks), but most often Playtime gets one-time visitors. Which makes sense, really. A lot of people don’t seem to want to step into the same adult toy shop twice. So Amir is always a little extra curious when there’s a repeat customer, especially one who is this attractive. And, interestingly, one who’s come back so soon.

The tall, classically handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes left Playtime no less than five hours ago after having purchased a medium-sized, fairly standard vibrator well suited for anal play. And now he’s back. Because apparently, he’s found he needed another vibrator.

If Sex Was A Sport We’d Be Winning Mature, AU, a classic Olympics hookup. 3K. It's remarkable, truly, that Alex didn't even want to be here. He only came all the way to Ariake because June was determined to watch a bunch of prissy ponies strut around to music. Still, perhaps the true Olympic experience lies in the wide variety of disciplines. Or, perhaps, it has something to do with chatting up a pretty blond behind the stables and getting him to show you the inside of an Olympic tack room. As Alex quickly takes to Henry’s sweet smiles and easy confidence, he realizes that just a few stolen moments with this man might turn into his most cherished memory from the Tokyo Olympics.

Alex knows better than to get attached, though. He and Henry live an ocean apart. There’s no way this quick fumble in the stable equivalent of a supply closet could ever lead to anything more. Right?

Talk Dirty To Me Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 9K. Henry studies Nora’s expression for a moment. There’s something about her favourable account of this guy she claims not to want to sleep with again that doesn’t add up. "But you're still not interested in taking him on?"

"He wants more than I'm willing to offer," Nora says frankly. Henry’s always liked this about her—how she doesn’t skirt around the hard facts. It's a part of what makes her so good at dominating. "But you know what? For you, he'd be kind of perfect."

Henry has been active in the local BDSM scene for years and there’s no shortage of men who’d love nothing more than to find themselves at his mercy. But Henry is on a break. He’s not looking for a new partner, but he’s also not expecting to become so intrigued by the man that Nora insists he should meet. Alex is a newcomer on the scene who doesn’t yet know exactly what he wants, much less with who. There’s no way that he could turn out to be exactly who Henry needs. Right?

Date night (please toy with me) Explicit, canon verse, a night out leads to some fun with a toy. 4K. This… this is new. They’ve talked about trying this, about what it’d be like to conceal some of their intimacy in plain sight, about what it would feel like to try and reclaim what is most private to them by flaunting it without anyone even knowing, by daring to take risks again. They’ve agreed that they’d still need to be careful, but they’ve also agreed that it would be interesting. That it would be fun.

And apparently, Henry thinks tonight is the night for it. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Yeah.” Alex swallows. He picks up the box, studying it for a moment. “Do you want… what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to the bathroom,” Henry says evenly, “You’ll find everything you need in the box. Then I want you to come back and sit down. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Alex taps the box, grinning in Henry’s direction. “I expect we’ll be leaving soon?”

Henry smiles slyly. “If you’re good, yes.”

Ongoing works

Hashtag Soulmates Mature, AU, Henry writes fanfiction. 23K and 7 chapters so far. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

That... is all! It’s been a productive summer. I’m very excited to continue writing Hashtag Soulmates, and also to start working on a few upcoming First Prince fics that I’m planning on writing. Stay tuned for fics! ♡

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Hey vobali, I love your QoT fic with Stella. Might I request for continuation fic where Stella meets the rest of the Poppy. MC convince everyone to let her to stay with them. Stella ended up growing on the Poppy that they decide to teach her and also very protective of her.

Part 1

Written by @vobali

"Wait! Waaaiiit! I want to come with you!"

I freeze. She... what? A look to Vivienne tells me she's at a loss for words as well. We've had this discussion before - whether we'd want kids or not - and we ended up with wanting none. But I just can't destroy the hope in Yvonne's eyes. Vivienne, as always, senses that I have trouble to form a response and jumps in.

"I doubt that it's safe for you to come with us."

"Pleeeeaaaase.... I'll... I'll be good! I've been alone for as long as I remember and I don't want to be alone..."

She lets go off me and pulls my wife's hips into a tight hug.

"I... I want to learn! Please..."

Viv goes stiff. I know how she responds to touch, so I prepare myself to intervene. But surprisingly it turns out to be unnecessary because she relaxes a little and puts a gentle hand onto the girl's head.

"Listen... Besides the danger you would get into we can't decide alone. We are a group of seven."

"That's amazing! I always wanted a family!"

Yvonne is excited beyond measure. Her face lights up with the biggest smile I've ever seen as she spins around and looks at us. Her eyes are big, hopeful, shining with pure joy. I melt. This girl was cute before but now... she's just adorable. A look to my wife confirms that she also fell for Yvonne. It's true that I warned Vivienne up, that she opens up more easily now, but it's still hard for anyone else to get to her heart. How this little girl broke through her walls so easily? I can see it's frightening her but she's not making the same mistake that she did with me. She's not pushing her away. Adoration shines in her eyes when Yvonne takes both of our hands, swinging them. With a small smile I speak out her thoughts.

"Alright... Let's ask the others."

...

"No. This is no life for a child."

Vivienne and Yvonne went up to the roof to pay Jett a visit so I have to face the arguments from the rest.

"She already has a life similar to ours, Niko! She has nowhere to go and could end up in the system, given from one family to another until she 'can take care of herself'. Or worse... without moral guidance, which we can provide, she could end up like Nadia and I won't let  THAT happen!"

"You have a point there, chérie, but our lifestyle IS dangerous. Jett is working with explosives..."

"Not only explosives, Remy!"

"Also... we've found ourselves on more than one occasion in a really close situation - Céline, Nadia, Bernicio... just to name a few."

"For god's sake, Zoe! Do you really think I'd put a seven-year-old girl up front?"

"It's not just that, MC. Zoe's examples came directly for us. Others might come for her instead to hurt us. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, remember?"

I close my eyes with a sigh.

"I understand your concerns, Leon, all of your concerns. I really do. But Yvonne has a talent... she just needs training, guidance. All I ask of you is your trust, one week and-!"

We get interrupted by loud laughter as Jett enters the room with Yvonne on his shoulders followed by Vivienne.

"Hey, folks. Have you met this little thing yet? She's incredible! She almost got me... luckily, I turned around at the right time otherwise I would've lost my wallet without even noticing! Can we keep her?"

"Wait... what?"

I throw an amused look at Yvonne while the others check their pockets, realizing that all of them got pickpocketed by a seven-year-old.

"My... my phone!"

"My wallet!"

"MY wallet!"

"My keys!"

Jett laughs so hard that the girl shakes with his laughter, grinning proudly. Vivienne can't help but chuckle as well while she comes to my side.

"Believe me... I know exactly how you feel. Though, if I'm being honest, I'm not surprised you didn't find out sooner. She got a lot better since she stole MY wallet almost two weeks ago."

Yvonne gets back on the ground, returns the stolen items, settles in front of Vivienne and me with a small smile and all eyes are on us. It's Nikolai who speaks first after a few minutes of silence.

"Fine. One week."

But despite his earnest tone he can't hide this small, slightly impressed smirk that pulls on his lips.

...

The Poppy adapts quite quickly to the idea of having a child around. Yvonne is good at practically everything! Jett loved her from the start but he really enjoys to co-teach her how to paint, Remy likes his role as language tutor alongside Vivienne, Zoe adores Yvonne's enthusiasm to learn new things in general, Nikolai is impressed of her eye for strategy and Leon, our sweet and gentle giant, is more than happy to take care of the simple playtime and cuddle parties. And even Elisabeth is around Yvonne as often as possible.

It's the evening before the week is over and a final decision has to be made. Vivienne and I have talked about this multiple times within the last few days - we want to keep her. Although we agreed on not wanting children, we can't picture our lives without Yvonne anymore. I know it deep inside my heart that this is the girl I'd call "daughter" and I know Vivienne feels the same way.

I take my time putting Yvonne to bed. She asked me not to leave so I stayed, humming a lullaby, stroking her hair until she fell asleep. I stand up as careful and as quiet as I can and place a soft kiss onto her forehead.

"Good night, little one."

I whisper before I leave the room. Outside, the others are already waiting for me.

"I'm sorry. It took longer than I expected..."

"Don't be, darling! We can wait. I suppose she's asleep now?"

I nod, give Vivienne a quick kiss and listen to the conversation, mostly fun or cute stories with Yvonne.

"I found a solution to our problem with the next heist."

"You did? Tell us, Niko!"

"Well... to be honest... it was Yvonne's idea. I would never have thought of it that way. The simplicity of a child's point of view really is astonishing! Oh! By the way... I got there something..."

He rises and places a small box in front of me. I open it carefully. My breath hitches as I reveal the earring inside.

"A... a little poppy!"

"I think I speak for all of us when I say 'we all want Yvonne to stay'."

Nikolai says with a smile.

"Woohoo! Hell yes, Niko! You're goddamn right! And anyone who dares to TRY harming her..."

"... will regret that they even THOUGHT of it in the first place!"

[agerefandom]

The TARDIS Playroom

Fandom: Doctor Who

Characters: Regressor!Thirteenth Doctor, Graham O’Brien

Words: 2,000

Summary: The TARDIS has had a playroom for a long time, and The Doctor doesn’t spend enough time in there. One day, while she’s regressing, Graham wanders into the TARDIS and finds her playing.

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of, aside from the accidental regression reveal! Little bit of baby talk around a pacifier near the end. Also, I didn’t bother to correct all my Canadianisms in this fic (ie. ‘pacifier’ instead of ‘dummy’), apologies if that bothers anyone!

for @andromedaspace​

It wasn’t often that The Doctor took a day off. There was always something interesting to do, somewhere to be, sometime that needed help getting back on track. But occasionally there was a lull: companions visiting families, no emergency broadcasts screeching through the TARDIS, just the hum of the ship and countless miles of corridors stretching into paradox space.

And then, maybe, if things had been busy lately, and there were injuries to nurse, and too many close calls… The Doctor would rest.

From the console room, the sounds of a Sheffield street could be heard through the front doors. Those doors were locked, the TARDIS tucked away into a little alcove between two fences down the street from Graham and Ryan’s house. Further into the TARDIS, music could be heard: an upbeat France Gall song. Hard to place the music in the twisting, impossible hallways of the TARDIS, but not impossible. Down a flight of stairs, and turning to the left, an open door revealed The Doctor’s current whereabouts.

Most of the TARDIS was warmly lit, crystals growing up the walls and in the centre of larger rooms. This room was no exception, stalactites hanging from the ceiling and providing a golden glow, but the floor wasn’t grated metal like the rest of the TARDIS. Here, the floor was covered in carpets, messily tossed over each other, and pillows and blankets on top of that, giving the room an appearance of a large and badly constructed bed.

The Doctor sat in the middle of the chaos, happily sucking on her pacifier. She’d chosen a new one after her most recent regeneration, blue and patterned with yellow jewels that sparkled in the crystal lights above her. A series of stuffed creatures were spread around her, some of the bigger ones leaning against the walls, and two of her favourites currently chatting in her lap, held up by her hands.

The policies of the N’ga’shto are more complicated than you’re making them seem! the blue Knashta was saying.

You’re being deliberately obtuse, his companion responded, a plush puppy The Doctor had picked up in Munich in 2032. The great Ish’ka is clearly a figurehead, and cannot be held responsible for the actions of his parliament.

The Doctor tilted her head back and forth between the two stuffies, making them bobble their heads as they argued. The act of playing pretend wasn’t something that had been practiced on Gallifrey, but the school-children were encouraged to debate foreign policy and challenge each other’s ability to recall the elders’ teachings. She enjoyed merging the two activities, watching her soft friends argue about things that mattered. If things got too intense or she got stuck, everything could be solved with a big hug and a nap. That was how playtime worked.

Sure enough, both the Knashta and unusually smart puppy were distracted when the next song came on, and started to dance, their soft legs tossing back and forth as The Doctor made them dance together. She laughed, her pacifier muffling the sound, and rolled onto her back, holding her plushies close. The puppy’s fur tickled her neck, and she pushed him off with a reproachful glance. The Doctor did not like to be tickled.

Well… did she? She certainly hadn’t, in most of her regenerations, but she didn’t think anyone had tried yet. Yasmin and Ryan would occasionally get into spats, trying to poke each other’s sides, but they never went after Graham or The Doctor. She would have to find some way to figure that out!

The Doctor ran her fingers down her sides, but it didn’t feel very ticklish when she did it. Sighing, she rolled over on top of her Knashta plush and rested her forehead on the carpeted floor. This was one of her favourites in the room, a rich oriental pattern that was so very soft to lie on. She ran her hands over the fabric, humming happily, and then pushed herself back to sitting.

It was while The Doctor was pushing herself up that she finally saw Graham standing in the hallway, hand raised as if to knock on the open door.

Her mouth opened in surprise and her pacifier fell out, landing on one of the pillows under her knees. She clutched her Knashta to her chest, automatically defensive. There was no reason to be scared, she knew, not of Graham, but this was her secret room, and he wasn’t supposed to see all this!

Oh, but she had been stupid, not asking the TARDIS to let her know if one of her companions used their key to come for a visit.

“I can go if it’s a bad time?” Graham said, finally lowering his hand from where it had been hovering by the door. “I didn’t mean to bother you, Doc. I texted a while ago and you didn’t get back to me.”

The Doctor had left her phone in the pocket of her normal clothes, which she didn’t wear at playtime. All at once, she was very aware of her bare knees. She loved her shorts and all of their many pockets, but they weren’t for people-time, they were for playtime! She tugged a pillow out of the pile and pushed it against her knees, frowning in Graham’s direction.

Then she felt bad for being rude: Graham hadn’t done anything wrong, after all. She was the one who hadn’t texted back.

“Ah, sorry,” she managed, gesturing for the TARDIS to turn the music off. “Don’t have my phone with me. Was it… important?” The Doctor tilted her head to the side.

“Not in the least,” Graham chuckled. “I was just wondering if you wanted to come for dinner, that’s all. Going to flex my cooking muscles, make some stir fry. Very impressive stuff.”

“Mmm.” The Doctor nodded, making her lips smile.

“Listen, I really am sorry for coming in without shouting first.” Graham pushed his hands into his pockets, looking guilty. “TARDIS has started to feel a little too much like home, but it’s your ship. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No, no!” Oh, she’d made everything bad and now Graham would feel uncomfortable and he wouldn’t want to come and visit her anymore. “I, you can come anywhere! The TARDIS is your home! This room isn’t just for me, it’s nice for sleepovers, and… I can share?” The Doctor held her stuffie out in front of her, trying not to look too worried.

“That’s a nice gesture, Doc. May I come in?”

“Yes, of course! No shoes.” The Doctor sat back on her heels and watched Graham toe off his boots, stepping onto the soft patchwork surface of the carpets. He was looking around, and The Doctor followed his gaze: mismatched pillows, piles of soft bedding, stuffed animals bigger than she could wrap her arms around, all scattered across the space. Did Graham think it was weird?

“Do you hate it?” she heard herself ask. She never did have a very good brain to mouth filter.

“Hate it?” Graham seemed genuinely surprised by the question. “No, kiddo, it looks super cozy. How often do you spend time here?”

The Doctor attempted to untangle timelines in her mind, straighten them out along human measurements.

“Every few months?” she guessed, rubbing the Knashta’s head between its many button eyes. “Not a lot.”

“That’s a crying shame.” Graham folded himself into a sitting position in front of her, hands on his knees. “Space like this deserves lots of time. Look at all these blankets!” He looked at her for permission as he reached out, and The Doctor liked that. She gave him a nod, and he tugged one of the fuzzy blankets onto his lap. “There, now I feel cozy.” He tucked it in around his knees and toes, and settled down with a sigh. “Who’s your friend?”

“They’re a Knashta,” The Doctor said, fighting down a silly wave of shyness as she held her friend out for Graham to see. “They’re a rebel and they don’t like big leaders, but they lack revolutionary nuance.”

“And do they have a name?”

The Doctor shook her head. She didn’t name most of her stuffies because remembering all those names would take a lot of memory space, and she preferred to remember the names of all the real people she saw from day to day.

“Hmmm, would you mind if I gave them a name?” Graham asked, running a hand over his stubbly cheeks as he smiled. The Doctor knew that Graham only did that when he was really happy, and usually when he was outside in the sun. It was nice that he was doing it here, with her, in the crystal-lit playroom of the TARDIS.

“You can give them a name if you want.” The Doctor’s shoulders were starting to hurt from holding up the plushie, but she would hold them up until they received a name. Names were important, so Graham needed to look closely.

“Well, let’s think for a moment.” Graham rubbed his chin, pushed his eyebrows together, and pursed his lips. The Doctor fought down a laugh at his exaggerated thinking expression. “I’ve got it! They look like a Greg.”

“Greg?” The Doctor said dubiously, looking at the Knashta. Knashtar usually had much longer names, but sometimes they took shorter nicknames when visiting other planets. It could be short for Gr’egtha’shvantanos, which was a proper Knashta name.

“Undoubtedly.” Graham smacked his hands against his knees. “I’d know a Greg anywhere.”

The Doctor brought Greg back to her chest, hugging them firmly. Their eyes pressed against the bottom of her chin, but that was alright. No one said love was easy. “I love Greg.”

“They love you too,” Graham said.

“Do they?” The Doctor wasn’t sure why the question slipped out of her. All of her friends in the playroom loved her, and she loved them. That was what plushies were for, loving and being loved. Soft and simple and comforting.

“There’s not a person who can get a hug from you and not love you, Doc. Take my word on it.”

The Doctor hid her smile behind her newly named Greg, glancing up to see Graham with a matching grin.

“You dropped this, by the way.” Graham hooked a finger through the handle of her pacifier and brought it up. “Yours, kiddo?”

The Doctor nodded reluctantly. She had been hoping Graham hadn’t seen it, but he clearly had. That was one of the things that wasn’t a people-time thing. Even if it was very comforting and helped her think, even when she was big.

“Here you go.” Graham offered it to her and The Doctor opened her mouth automatically. Graham blinked: oh, he’d wanted to hand it to her. Before The Doctor could correct her mistake, he reached forward and popped the dummy into her mouth. She hummed, relaxing with the familiar pressure on her tongue.

“T’nk y’u,” she said around the pacifier.

“Not a problem,” Graham said, and patted her on the head. Oh, that was nice… she had so missed people touching her hair. Almost before she knew what she was doing, she chased the touch, pressing into Graham’s hand. “Oh! Hello.” Graham chuckled, but willingly scratching his fingers through her hair, all the way to the back of her scalp.

The Doctor melted, her head coming to rest on Graham’s knee, with Greg the Knashta held close against her. They were her new favourite. But also, Graham was her new favourite, as long as he kept petting her head.

“Well. You’re over here now,” he said, and moved a piece of her hair out of her face. “Big flop, Doc. Thinking about a nap?”

“M’ybe,” The Doctor sighed, closing her eyes as Graham started to comb his fingers through her hair again.

“I’ve gotta be home at six to start dinner, but there’s plenty of time for a nap before then. I’ll stay here with you.”

“L’v y’u,” The Doctor said, the world already getting softer around her. She could feel Graham’s affection and comfort radiating from his hands. Thanks to the physical contact, she was receiving vague thoughts and impressions, so she heard Graham’s response before he said it out loud.

“Love you too, kiddo. Sleep well.”

[unmaskedagain]

Bridges Burned (Mama always told me that I should play nice. But she never met you)

Just a little something I worked on today. Not fond of the end But I write at work. And I ran out of time. Sorry. I 

Marinette officially lost all her friends one sad Friday afternoon. She hadn’t been surprised when it happen. Most had been distant from her lately; cancelling plans or even avoiding in her the hall.  Some wouldn’t even bother to hide their dislike and outright glared at her. However, it was Alya who decided the bridge should finally burn. She accused Marinette of bullying poor Lila and disavowing the bluenette; asking the entire the class if anyone considered Marinette a friend anymore.

 While a few outright yelled no, no one spoke up, afraid to get any negative attention on themselves and be ostracized like their once friend.

The entire class had latched on to all Lila’s wonderful stories and her promises of meeting famous people, of having their career goals and dreams come true. They didn’t want to hear or even think she was lying, Lila Rossi, as far as they were concerned, were the girl that could make things happen. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, while a great friend, at times was just a baker’s daughter; someone who was clearly jealous of all of Lila’s success. Still, they expect the bluenette to give in and admit she was wrong when face when the prospect of losing all her friends.

           However, Alya didn’t get the tears or apologies and promises to be better from the Asian girl like she’d expected. Instead Marinette looked her up and down, scoffed, and said, “Okay. Then we’re not friends.” That was it. No arguments. No meltdowns. Despite attempts from others to get a reaction, Marinette just shrugged it all off. It was clear, that she didn’t care. Lila, for once, was honestly frustrated to tears because nothing went like she thought it would. How could she win over the other girl, if said girl didn’t care enough to compete.

           However, it was the following Monday that the class started to realize just how badly they messed up.

           It started very simple, the class overheard Marinette handing a note to Bustier confirming she was leaving for the day at lunch. They didn’t think anything of it. Until just before Lunch arrived and pretty, blonde Aurore arrived. The budding journalist had thrown open the classroom door, and immediately tackled Marinette in a hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Aurore kept repeating. “I can’t believe you did this. I can’t believe this is happening. You’re the best. I love you. Oh my god, this is the best day of my life.”

           Marinette laughed and hugged her friend tightly, “It’s no trouble. I told Lois I was bring a friend to meet her and decided you’d be perfect.”

           Before any of the class could ask what had them so excited, there was a knock on the door. “Sorry to interrupt,” A beautiful dark haired woman said. “I’m here to pick of Marinette and her friend.”

Alya squeaked and then turned bright ready, “Lois Lane,” She whispered in awe. “Lois Lane is in my classroom.”

Marinette smirked, “Ready, Lois,” She pulled her bag over her shoulder, “This is Aurore.” She introduced, nudging the star struck, pig-tailed girl. “Aurore Beauréal.” And this was start of all of payback she had planned.

Marinette’s mom always told her to be play nice with the other kids. The bluenette decided playtime was over. It was time for some bridges to burn.

Lois nodded, “Your journalist friend.”

Aurore squeaked, “Yes, my queen; I mean, madam! Madam.”

           Lois chuckled. “I’m happy you’ll be coming with us,” And she was. “I’ve been dying to meet some of little Mari’ friends.” Lois had known Marinette since she was a little girl, loved her a like niece. She’d been hearing from Marinette all about the bullying that had been going on in class, and had been angry for quite some time. Marinette gave her call to inquire if she’d like to help her a bit of revenge. “I always love working with budding reporters; teach them how to really stick it to the man.”

           The teen girls laughed as they headed over to the older woman, all eyes following them.

“Aurore,” Lois hummed just loud enough for the class to overhear. “Marinette you said would make a great intern for the Daily Planet for the summer. Normally we don’t employ teenagers but you’re a friend of Marinette. And Marinette always had a keen-eye for talent. So why don’t I interview you while we go to lunch; and if it goes well; maybe I’ll let you do a ride along on some of my stories I got planned…”

           Then they were gone. Alya watched the space they were dazed. She didn’t come out of any until Nino waved a hand in front of her face, “You alright, babe?

           Alya blinked hard and shook her head, “Lois Lane was just in my class. World-renowned journalist Lois Lane was in my class. And I didn’t say a word.” She groaned. “I could’ve ask her so many questions. Tips, advise, anything.”

           Nino hugged his girlfriend, “its okay, maybe you’ll get another chance.”

“Marinette!” Alya suddenly chimed brightly, “She knows Lois Lane. I can’t believe she never told me.” Suddenly dark look appeared on her face. “And how could she recommend Aurore for an internship over me, I thought we were…” The sentence died on her lips as the sinking realization hit her. “We’re not friends.”  Regret filled her. “Lois Lane said she just wanted to meet Marinette’s friends. I’m not her friend.”

“With good reason,” Alix snapped. “Marinette’s a bully. You don’t need her. None of us do.”

           There were nods, one even of Alya, but Alya couldn’t help but feel that she had missed out of the opportunity of a lifetime.

           When Marinette returned to class the next day, she never mentioned Lois Lane once. No one had the courage to ask her about it. It wasn’t until lunch when Aurore tackled the girl, once again, in a hug that they found out what occurred.

“I got the internship,” Aurore shouted, tears in her eyes. “I’ll be working at the Daily Planet all summer. If it goes well, I’ll do it for the next few summers. Some interns even get hired on after they graduate. Lois said I have a killer instinct and she sure I’ll succeed. Thank you, Marinette.” The blonde beamed. “Lois said I had real talent but I know you’re the reason I even got the chance; because we’re friends. This my dream come true.”

           Once again it was like a balloon popped inside of Alya. She’d never considered that Aurore would actually get the internship. Jealous raged through her. She was a much better reporter than the other girl. Lois would’ve never looked twice at Aurore, if Alya was still friends with Marinette.

           But it was fine. Lila was Uncle worked at the New York Times. If Marinette’s family friend could get the wannabe reporter an internship, then Lila could do so much more.

           The next blow came a few weeks later, the class had all but forgotten that Lois Lane had come to visit. Until Friday came, and just before the school bell rang ending the day a man knocked on the door, with and then Nino started to choke.

           His eyes were wide, his face pale, “J.J Abrams.” He whispered. “It’s J.J Abrams.”

“Who?” Alya asked.

“A famous director,” Max answered as Nino was clearly too stunned to. “He directed the newest Star Trek movies And the New Star Wars. The Mission Impossible movies. Casper. The TV Show Lost. He also directed Armageddon, a favorite of mine.”

“Why is he here?” Lila asked curiously.

           The answer came when a familiar bluenette walked into class, “Jeffery,” She said excitedly.

“Marinette!” He beamed. “Ready for a killer weekend?!”

“Ready to meet Chris Pine,” Marinette sighed dreamily.

           The glasses-wearing friend laughed, “He can’t wait to meet you either. Is your film-maker friend still coming along too? You said he’d be good for an internship for Warner Brothers studios; the openings still up, if you want.” The man didn’t bother to hide his smirk. Tom had been a dear friend of his for a long time. He’d known Marinette since she was in diapers. The kid was a favorite of his. And when she mentioned what had been going on in class. Well… he was more than happy to help. “What was his name? Nathan, Neo...” He trailed off.

“Claude.” Marinette corrected. “And he’d love to work at an actually movie set this summer.  He wants to direct movie when he gets older. We’ll get him when the bell rings.”

“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

           The bell rang moments later, and Marinette and Abrams were gone before anyone could say another word. Everyone else remained behind.

           Nino couldn’t believe what just happened. His favorite director of all time had just walked out the door.

“You okay, Nino?” Alya said soothing.

“J.J Abrams,” Nino just whispered, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. “He was here. Right in front of me. And he didn’t even look my way. I had this exact dream before. Except, he came to see me and wanted me to help him on his next movie. But this isn’t a dream. This is a nightmare. I’m in a nightmare.”

“Who knew Dupain-Cheng had connections to Hollywood,” Chloe hummed. “Maybe I should’ve been nicer. Claude must be thrilled.”

“Claude,” Nino said the name dryly. He knew the other boy well. They had competed against each other for years in local film making contests. The darkhaired boy was a frenemy in every sense of the word. “Claude is going to get an interview to work on a blockbuster movie for Warner Brothers. He’s going to make connections and friends. People are going to help his career going so much further. He’s going to get the chance to talk with my favorite director of all time, and I won’t.” He groaned. “Just leave me here to die.”

           Kim winced, “Cheer up, man. Marinette knows him. Maybe she can help you out; introduce you.”

“Why would she do that?” Chloe asked. “You’re not friends. That J.J guy only wanted to meet Marinette’s friends. Why would he want to meet you?”

           Alya glared at the blonde, “Nino’s a good director.”

“So?” Chloe lifted an eyebrow. “You’re a decent journalist. But Lois Lane didn’t even bother to learn your name. Why? Because it’s all about connections in this world. Who you know! Who you’re friends with. And guess what that means for Nino…”

No one needed to guess. Nino just slumped in his seat. There was a good chance he’d never meet J.J Abrams.

The weekend passed easily. Photos of Marinette and Claude with the cast of Star Trek, onset of the new movie, filled the two’s Instagram’s. It was all anyone at school would talk about. It took a week for it to die down. A month later, a shaking Claude with tears in his eyes bombarded Marinette during Study hall, “I got!” He yelled excitedly, drawings the classes’ attention and the glare of the teacher. “I got the internship. I’ll be working on the set of the new Buffy reboot movie. Joss Whedon is directing. I’m going to work with Joss Whedon.”

“Congratulations,” Marinette hugged her friend. “You deserve it.”

“No, I don’t,” Claude admitted. “Some college students on his last year of film school deserves it. I only got it because of you. The hiring manager even admitted that someone leaned on them hard to get me the job; they called in favors for some girl named Marinette. I’m going to work with my all-time favorite director, meet Gia Godot and Jason Momoa and whoever’s being cast as the new batman because we’re friends. I got the job because I’m your friend.”

At that Nino just got up and walked out of class. He didn’t return to school that day. It was Alya and Adrien who convinced him to return. Adrien just promised things would get better and he’d get his break to. Alya just reminded him of all the people Lila knew. And that cheered him up.

Lila had made him so many promises of getting directors and famous movie studios to review his work. If someone like Marinette, a virtual nobody, could get Claude an internship with WB, then, Nino thought smugly, Lila would get him a job a director. He’d be making the next blockbuster in no time.

Three weeks, two days, four hours, and eleven minuets was all it took for Marinette’s next plan of action to go into effect.

It was bright Monday morning, class was in session and Bustier had just stepped out for a moment. And just like any time she left, everyone automatically pulled out their phone.

It took five seconds for Nathaniel to yell, “What?” Eyes went to him. However, he only had eyes for Marinette. “You and Marc met Tom King.”

Marinette shrugged, fighting the urge to smirk, “He was in town. He’s a friend of my grandma. Nice guy. I don’t know much about comics so I took along Marc; we’re friends after all. And I knew he’d love the chance.”

Nathanial hadn’t believe his eyes at first. Marc standing with Tom King was shocking. He hadn’t spoken to the boy since he broke off their partnership. Lila said he was holding Nathanial back; that he needed a better artist.

“Marc’s going to New York,” The redhead awed. “He’s going to be working for DC comics.”

“It’s an apprenticeship for up and coming comic book artists and writers,” Marinette explained. “About a dozen artists and a dozen writers are selected every year. Marc showed Tom his portfolio and he was really impressed. Tom King even said that he was surprised no one had snatched him up yet; that he expected a line of comic book writers following Marc around.” Marinette frowned. “He couldn’t believe it, when I told him that Marc was just dropped for not being a good enough artist.”

           Marinette looked Nathaniel right in the eye when she said that. She never forgave him for hurting Marc. He hadn’t even told Marc to his face that he was fired; just sent him a stupid text about going in a different direction.

           Marc had been devastated. He had really liked the redheaded boy and had thought Nathaniel liked him back. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t; all Marinette knew for certain was that her friend had been hurt because Lila got her claws into something she had no business in. More than likely, something she didn’t even have knowledge of.

“It’s fine though,” Marinette smiled. “Marc doesn’t have anyone or anything holding him back now. He’ll work with real DC comic writers now; real professionals.”

           Nathaniel flinched at her words. He felt numb inside. Tom King said Marc was good enough to work at DC comics. How on earth did he ever think Marc was the one being held back?

           Most of the other students in class didn’t know who Tom King was but by the redhead’s reaction it was someone important. Most likely Tom King was Nathanial what Lois Lane had been to Alya.

           It was after school on random Thursday, a month since the Tom King incident happened, that Alix was headed to the skate park. Only to be blocked by security that a private party had book the entire park. They’d have it for another hour.

           A bit bummed, but Alix had no problem waiting. She spent most of the time on her phone. Her notification that the hour had passed was the familiar laughter of one bluenette girl.

           Alix looked up to see Marinette and Allegra, another skater Alix knew well, leaving the park. The pink-haired readied herself to spit acid at her ex-friend. She swore she’d never forgive Marinette for bullying poor Lila to tears. Honestly, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was worse than Chloe ever was. However, before she could, two other people skated out of the park.

           The shock of seeing the men caused Alix to drop her skates. “Tony Hawk. Ryan Sheckler,” She said with eyes wide.

“You’re a great skater,” She overhead the God King Of skaters say to Allegra. “You’ll do awesome in the X-games.”

“Yeah, dude,” Ryan Sheckler said. “No lie. You got skills. Marinette… I don’t know how you’re still alive.” This caused laughter. The bluenette blushed. “Seriously, though; it was great meeting you Allegra. When Marinette said she had a skater friend who’d kill it in the games, she wasn’t lying.”

           Alix could only watch with envy pooling in her stomach. She only just close enough to hear that Tony and Ryan had helped Allegra perfect her tricks. How happy they were to meet one of Marinette’s friends. That she nailed her auditioned for the games. Then they said something that made Alix pick up her skates and leave, “Sponsorship.”

           It was only a potential one. However, it was clear that someone big was searching for female skaters to sponsor and if Allegra did well, she’d be one of them.

           Allegra, not Alix.

           Alix’s mood was sour for the rest of the day and into the next morning. It took some prodding for the other students to find out what was wrong. When Alix’s story was done, most of the class winced in sympathy.

“I can’t believe Marinette,” Alix huffed. “Took Allegra to meet Tony Hawk and Ryan Sheckler,” The class blinked. The only skater present was Alix but everyone knew who Tony Hawk was. “Now Allegra is competing in the X-games. She’s gonna get sponsored. And I’ll be watching them at home, like always.”

“Chill, girl,” Alya smiled. “Lila said she’d introduce to a bunch of go-green companies looking to sponsor skaters. The X-games are so 2000 and late. They’re whatever now. Who cares?”

           Alix just stared blankly at the other girl. While she was comforted that Lila would help her get sponsored, the X-games weren’t a thing of the past. All real skaters went there. It was where pro-skaters separated themselves from the amateurs.

           Kim was the next target on Marinette’s list. It was quite simple; Marinette gave a note the gym teacher about something. The coach’s eyes went wide and had no problem believing the girl was telling the truth. Word had been spreading around school of just how many famous connections Marinette Dupain-Cheng had. The coach took the chance to ask the sweetest girl in school for a favor,

           Kim had no idea why his swim coach told them they wouldn’t be swimming today. He figured it was just going to be a motivation speech and safety demonstration. He thought that until he saw Marinette and Ondine in swim suits at the pool.

“Now,” Coach said giving them a stern look. “We will just be watching the training. We will not be interfering or making too much noise. Pay close attention.”

           Kim huffed. Why did he need to pay attention? He was a much better swimmer than Ondine. He frowned. However, the frown gave away to show when Michael Phelps emerged from the water.

           The coach went over and quickly introduced themselves and thank Marinette for allowing the swim team to view the training.

“No problem,” Phelps said. “I’m a friend of Marinette’s godmother; used to help babysit the squirt. I was in town anyway. Marinette told she had a friend who was good enough to go for the gold, I decide to come around for a visit. Plus I could’ve never the kid in the water. So two birds one stone.”

           And that was how Kim was forced to watch the guy who had been an idol of his since he was a little kid and who’s poster was on Kim’s wall, trained his main competition; perfect her technique, recommend her to French Olympic coaches. Anything for a friend of Marinette.

           Kim decided right then and there, that life wasn’t fair.

           When word spread from the other members of the swim team that Michael Phelps trained Ondine and Marinette, the school once again caught on fire. Kids in class gave Kim pitying looks. They all knew how much he adored the Olympic swimmer. Lila took the moment to remind the class how many Olympic athletes she knew.

“They’ll be happy to meet you, Kim,” Lila promised. “Once they have some free time.”  

           Kim smiled. It might be Michael Phelps but an Olympic athlete was still pretty cool.

           At this point, most of the school was waiting on their toes to see who Marinette would be bring next. So far there had been two more reporters; no one really famous or jaw dropping like Lois Lane but one did come from the New York Times which caused Alya to cry.  Cat Grant, budding tycoon, came for Marinette who introduced her to Chloe. Then there were famous actors, chefs, animators, writers, supermodels. There was even a prince.

           Prince Ali to be exact. Marinette had become friends with him after his first visit and had loved his go-green efforts. So much so that she introduced him to her godfather who had no problem seeing the boy’s plans to new levels. It had taken months and months of work but went everything was a success.

           The young prince showed up personally at school to thank Marinette after plans went to launch and were already succeeding.

           Rose had been so excited to see Prince Ali. They had been penpals, if not outright friends. However, the boy only had eyes for the bluenette. Prince Ali was so excitedly, so proud of what he had achieved he didn’t notice anyone else. He invited Marinette and all of Marinette’s friends to a gala he was hosting in celebration. Then proceeded to take Marinette and Aurore, who he promised to give an interview to, to dinner. A week after that pictures of the Prince’s Gala made headline news, and an exclusive news story by budding report Aurore was on the cover of the Daily Planet. Alya was once again reduced to tears.

           Rose cried into her pillow for the rest of the weekend.

           However it was just before winter break when Max found himself being the one to who needed to cry. Mr. Damocles practically burst opened the door, looking all the simpering kiss ass people believed him to be, “Marinette, you’ll be leaving early today,” He announced. “You’re godfather is here to pick you up.”

“Did you even call my parents,” Marinette asked bluntly. “To verify?”

           Before the principle answered, Tony Stark came marching into the room, “Mari!” He beamed at Marinette. “Time go. Chop, Chop. Plane’s waiting.”

“School day’s not over yet, Uncle Tony.” Marinette crossed her arms. “It’s not even lunch.”

           Uncle Tony, the class’s eye went wide. They knew Marinette had a godfather who was an engineer but she never said he was Tony Stark.

“Pssh, there’s nothing you can learn here, that I can’t teach you myself,” Tony waved off the complaint. “Right, Principle. I’m sure we can work something out. Maybe a sizable donation for the art program. My niece is quite the designer, you know!”

           Dollars signs appeared in Mr. Damocles’ and Marinette knew that if the principle had to drag her out of the school to get the money, he would.

           With a sigh, Marinette packed her school bag, “You’re calling my parents.”

“Why?” Tony whined. “They’re your parents.”

“You’re the adult!”

“Since when?”

           Marinette groaned as the two left the class. Mr. Damocles trailing behind them.

“So those are your classmates?” They heard Tony Stark say. “Which one is genius who though a napkin could take out his eyes that he was wearing glasses?”

           Max blushed. It did seem foolish in retrospect.

“No one important,” They heard Marinette say.

“Good,” Tony put in. “Hey what happened to that genius kid who build his own AI. That kid’s gotta be worth something. You wanted me to consider him for an internship.”

“We’re not friends anymore,” Marinette said. “His choice, not mine.”

They heard Tony Stark tsk, “Not that smart then.”

It wasn’t the biggest blow any of the kids had been dealt. Everyone knew that Max idolized Tony Stark. To think he had a chance to work at Stark industries but he blew had Max headed to the guidance council. And perhaps a therapy session.

News that Tony Stark picked Marinette Dupain-Cheng, his goddaughter up for Christmas vacation spread like a wildfire. Pictures of her with avengers at their Christmas party were a hit. However, they weren’t the only pictures people were talking about.

Suddenly, Marinette’s Instagram and twitter was filled with pictures and videos of other people no one even realized she knew. Harry Styles, Chrissy Teagan, Selena Gomez, the kids from the Strangers, Olivia Wilde, and Ryan Reynolds were among them; apparently Marinette had designed for them all. Then her twitter started blowing up.

Particularly when the official Taylor Swift twitter account followed Marinette and send a tweet about how much she loved her the MDC dress Selena Gomez were to the AMAs. That she’d kill for it.

Then Marinette sent a tweet replying that it wouldn’t fit her body shape but… And then Marinette posted a five quick pics of different designs she had previous sketched after Taylor Swift’s last album came out. Marinette was a huge fan. Each design was ranged from pretty and cute to sophisticate.

Taylor loved them. Then they debated on color and hem length; whether she wanted bright or dark. What make-up would look right for each look. The fans loved it. Other models and fashion designers offered their input. However, it went on for quite some time. To the point where Chrissy Teagan tweeted, “Okay Taylor, Mari, this is too much. Hey Tay, I got MDC’s number. Hit me up and I’ll pass it along. I swear! Just stop!”

Five minutes later, Jennifer Lawrence tweeted, “Chrissy, can I get that number too?” Marinette was found fainted on the ground not long after.

           Buzzfeed at a field day. Articles of the tweets conversation were after. Buzzfeed had quite a few “This is MDC. And this why you should love her” pages.

           It was a credit to the class, apart from Lila, that no one tried to worm their way back onto Marinette’s good side. Lila had tried her best to claw her way into a friendship with Marinette; kissing up and completing the girl, she had clearly had not too long ago. As far as Lila was concerned Marinette was her new meal ticket. Sure, Adrien was handsome, but Marinette had more connections in her pinky then the blond boy had in his entire body.

If only I knew when I got to class, Lila frowned, I’d have just gotten rid of Alya and became Dupain-Cheng’s number one B.F.F within days.

The rest of the class all held to their guns. Marinette was a bully. She picked on poor Lila who never did anything wrong to anybody. Lila spent her life helping people. What had Marinette done?

           Marinette never even bothered to tell them about all the people she knew. Or that she was designing for celebrities. What kind of friend was that? They had heard her say something about contracts and non-disclosure agreements but refused to acknowledge that. If Lila, someone much more important Marinette, had no problem giving out all the deets to her many accomplishments and adventures than Marinette shouldn’t either. As far as they were concerned what Marinette did what little better than lying.

           Besides there was nothing Marinette couldn’t do that Lila couldn’t do better.

           Unfortunately for them, that wasn’t true. Particularly when it came to revenge.

           When Luka came knocking on Marinette’s door looking more downcast then he ever had before, it was clear something was up.

“They kicked me out of the band,” Luka sighed, “Some Lila chick told them it was weird to hang out with an older dude; that never get famous with me. So they dropped me. Even Juleka agreed and said I should start a band with kids my own age instead. My own sister.”

           Marinette spent the rest of the day comforting the older boy. Anger surged through her. She thought they’d learned. That they’d get the message. But no…

           Her ex-friends proved just how big of morons they really were.

           Well no more.

           Before the week was over, Marinette pulled every string she had, called in favor after favor, by Friday of that week, just to get Luka was singing in front of some important people to at least hear him sing; a record producer, a record Executive, and an talent recruiter for famous label. Jagged Stone’s label to exact. They loved him.

Luka was announcing his recording deal by Sunday all thanks to his friend Marinette.

Marinette walked into class on Monday to the downtrodden faces of the remaining members of Kitty Section, “Good Luck find a new singer,” She snipped at them, a bright smile on her lovely face. “Heard you said the last one was holding you back. That he needed to grow up.” There were multiple flinches at her words.

“What happened to you?” Mylene asked. “You used to be so nice.”

           Marinette scoffed, “I am nice. To my friends.” To her enemies, she was hell incarnate.

           She just needed to do one final play. One last move before she declared checkmate. Granted she had already won far more than she had set out to win. It wasn’t enough. There was blood in the water, and Marinette wasn’t going to stop until all of it was spilled.

           Once the entire class understood just how badly they had messed up, just how much they had lost; only then would Marinette declare game over. Then the last of the bridge that had been her friendship with the class would finally be just ashes. Marinette would finally through with them. She’d finally be done.

           The Checkmate happened on Friday, and Marinette actually had nothing to do with it much to her dismay. She had been planning for something at the end of the years but life had other ideas.

           No one blinked in surprise when, during study hall, the door burst opened and in walked Jagged Stone. At that point they were used to various celebrities popping in to visit everyone’s favorite bluenette.

“Again,” Marc groaned. “Really?”

“This school needs better security,” Claude said.

           Aurore nodded, “They can’t keep taking her away, can they?”

“Don’t they need a note from her parents or something?” Marc asked.

           Ondine shrugged, “Marinette asked the principle about that once, or least calling her parents but he didn’t blink an eye.”

           Aurore rolled her eyes, “Anyone with money and a little bit of power just can just walk all over him.”

“I feel like as a good friend, I should file a complaint,” Claude said. “But I really want to see where this goes.”

“Mari, darling” Jagged yelled, followed by his exasperated Fiancé Penny. “Why in the hall of fame is everyone trying to poach my designer. I found you first.”

“We talked about this,” Penny sighed. “Marinette can work with whoever she wants. And Hello Marinette, how are you doing, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine,” Marinette smiled. “But you really shouldn’t be here. I have class.”

“School’s totally rock and roll,” Jagged grinned. “But Penny here wants you design her wedding dress so we figured we stop by. Also tell Harry Styles, I found you first, yeah. He can bite it. Or I’ll let fang bite him.”

“Jagged!” Penny and Marinette chastised. “I’d love to design your dress, Penny!” Marinette added. “I have so many ideas!

           Jagged threw up his hands, “What? Who still another’s man designer? Totally not Rock and Roll.”

           Unfortunately for Jagged, it was Bustier monitoring study hall. It was Mendeleiev, “Enough. Mr. Stone,” She tutted. “Marinette is in class. This behavior will not be tolerated. You may speak to my student after school.”

“But!”

“NO!” Mendeleiev snapped and gave Jagged a look that made him feel fifteen-years-old again.        

           Jagged crossed his arms and pouted causing Penny and Marinette to laugh.

“We’ll leave,” Penny said, and started to push a reluctant Jagged out the door. “Marinette, we’ll be at your place. Okay, love.”

           It was Aurore who stopped them, “Jagged Stone, I’m an intern at the daily planet, is it true some girl saved you cat from being hit by a plane.”

“Cat!” Jagged roared. “I’ve never own something as ordinary as cat. Not cool.” He went on rant about weren’t rock and roll; and totally mainstream.

           Penny rolled her eyes, “He’s allergic. Can’t get near one. Certainly never owned one.” Then she pushed Jagged out the door, “Sorry for interrupting.” She said she closed the door.

           Mendeleiev narrowed her eyes, “I’m going to make sure they leave. Everyone behave.” And was gone.

“He never owned a cat,” Chloe laughed. This was too good. “He’s allergic. So how did you save his, Lila?”

           Said girl’s eyes were wide as everyone waited for her answered.  She tried to stutter out excuses but they were all too unbelievable. One thing was clear…

“You’re lying,” Alya accused. “Having you been lying all this time?”

“And the sky is blue,” Ondine chuckled.

           The fallout was nuclear. Mendeleiev came back to find nearly all of Bustier’s class verbally ripping into Lila Rossi. She quickly got them back into order. Unlike her young coworker, there were things Mendeleiev refused to tolerate.

           When the realization that they had been lied to all time sunk in, the students realized that Marinette hadn’t done anything wrong. She stood up against a liar, a bad guy like she always did, and suffered for it.

           Not only that, but they been taken in by Fool’s gold and had ignored the diamond that had been the Bluenette.  It was a hard pill to swallow, especially when they realized all the promises they had been counting on wouldn’t come to pass. And the girl who couldn’t made it happened refused to so much as return their texts. Now they knew that the truth and it was too late.

Marinette would have given them the world…

           …If only they were still friends.

[voiceless-terror]

All Too Familiar

For @jonpeterweek2021

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Peter Lukas, Elias Bouchard

Rating: Teen, SFW

Summary: In which Elias and Peter make a bet and Jonathan Sims is courted by both the Eye and the Lonely. 

“Archivist giving you trouble?”

Elias’s fingers are at his temple, his eyes closed in what could be called contemplation but is more likely irritation. Peter’s not fond of the woman, quite the opposite, but her ability to rile the man up is unparalleled. He can respect that.

“Should’ve offed her long ago, I say. Getting on in years, isn’t she?”

“And aging me right along with her,” Elias grouses, letting out a much aggrieved sigh. “It’ll be a while yet, but I do have plans for her.”

“And someone else, I see.” Peter’s eyes scan over the files on his desk- personnel files, each with an attached photo. He snatches one from the stack before Elias can protest and makes a show of squinting at the page. “Jonathan Sims. Bit young for you.”

The photo shows a young man barely out of college and desperate to be taken seriously, judging by his haircut and ill-fitting blazer. The flash must have caught him by surprise- he looks disgruntled and confused, eyes squinting ahead. It would almost be endearing to anyone who wasn’t Peter. “Well, he’s more to your tastes than Gertrude ever was. Best of luck.”

“Enough!” Elias hisses as he grabs the folder from his hands with surprising intensity, those cold, strange eyes narrowed in contempt. His gaze lingers on the file for a moment, staring down at the attached photo as if it reveals something Peter can’t see. Oh, this is a serious contender. Peter wonders what makes him so special. It’s an idle, curious thought; Elias rarely displays such cageyness, preferring instead to keep his cards close to his chest with a knowing smirk. It’s insufferable.

“Tetchy about this one,” he comments, watching as Elias carefully slots the file underneath the others, as if to guard it from Peter. “Any particular reason?”

Elias tenses for one brief, almost imperceptible moment, shoulders encased in a crisp, tailored suit rising at most a centimeter but Peter sees it. Elias has his eyes but for all his lonely solitude Peter can read people. He can find weak spots and exploit them, tiny insecurities laid bare and magnified. And then Elias relaxes, leaning back slightly in his chair as his eyes flicker to Peter’s with a contemplative smugness. There he is. “He’s afraid of spiders.”

That’ll do it.

“Special indeed.” Peter whistles lowly. The Mother’s not to be taken lightly. He can see the draw; few are marked by the web, and even fewer escape with their life. He wonders why she let this one go; from the one photo he’d seen, Jonathan Sims looked utterly unremarkable, which makes him all the more intriguing. Perhaps he should pay him a visit. Recent college graduate, taciturn countenance. Knowing Elias’s predilection for orphans and loners, the boy has little to no social connections. The Institute has always attracted these types, though he risks the ire of its head if he claims it as a hunting ground.

His face must reveal his musings, for Elias’s own hardens. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing,” he says, each word with a clipped precision. “Don’t.”

“You think so little of me,” Peter laughs, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture. Always suspicious, that man. Rightly so. “I would never interfere with any of your plans.”

He can feel the Watcher’s gaze as he strolls through the halls, taking his time to peer in doorways and flash a pleasant smile at the confused staff. He does not run into Jonathan Sims, nor did he expect to. Elias’s irritation is a satisfaction all its own.

For now. 

__________

There is a man in the courtyard. 

Objectively, this courtyard is open to anyone, be it staff or guests of the Institute. Objectively, it’s a rare, beautiful day and people should take advantage of it. Objectively, Jon doesn’t have a ‘spot’ he can claim for smoking and insist on being alone. But Jon’s scowl and the wafting scent of cigarette smoke is usually enough to drive people away. 

But this time, there is a man in his spot. Jon is not pleased with this development.

He’s tall, stocky in the way a middle-aged man usually is, though there seems to be some muscle lurking underneath his baggy coat. Is he some sort of vagrant? He’s pale, unhealthy so, and it puts Jon on edge. 

But that’s not the most irritating thing about him. That honor goes to his whistling. 

Jon takes his smoke break at precisely ten each morning. Ten. Who whistles this early? Certainly not any sane person. No, that’s an activity best left for mid-afternoon or dusk. Mornings are for silence and work, not playtime. This is obscene.

So why, pray tell, does he still go to his spot? He could easily sit on the bench in the center, there’s no one there this early, no one to bother with his little vice. But habits are hard to break, and Jon’s a man who likes routine. He doesn’t want people thinking he can be pushed around. So he walks over, trying to ignore the shiver he gets in the midmorning sun on a perfectly temperate day. Jon doesn’t meet the man’s eyes as he moves closer and despite his trepidation, something is starting to put him at ease. His scent is so familiar, cold and crisp like the foggy mornings of his childhood. His grandmother’s house, not so far from the sea. It brings a sharp pain to his chest as much as it soothes him; she passed months ago and despite their distant relationship, it’s still a sort of grief. Perhaps he didn’t visit her enough in the end. She didn’t deserve to die alone.

Breaking himself from his maudlin thoughts and taking his place at the wall, Jon fishes a cigarette from his pack and lights it in a smooth, practiced motion. The nicotine soothes his fried nerves and he can almost ignore the man in that old jacket whistling some jaunty tune and trespassing in his spot. There’s no greeting, no nod of acknowledgment. Jon smokes his cigarette to the stub until it's acrid odor all but wipes away that familiar scent, and he leaves.

He finds himself humming all afternoon.

__________

Jon’s an interesting fellow.

Peter can see the remnants of the Web clinging to his shoulders in an almost possessive shroud. The Mother is usually more subtle, but this one screams mine, mine. Elias will have his work cut out for him, that’s for sure. But his machinations have always bordered on unnecessarily complex- the man enjoys a challenge. Enough time under the Watcher’s gaze and you’ll start to think it home. 

And yet the man still calls to him. There’s a vulnerability in the way he holds himself, how he stubbornly clings to his little spot and yet makes himself small. There’s Lonely in him, Peter can feel the itch of it in his skin. He could snap him up quite easily if he tried. But he’s always favored a longer game when he can find it; it brings so much satisfaction to see a soul slowly eaten away until it fades, unremembered and bereft. There’s a quiet dignity to it, and Jon would wane so beautifully.

On his third visit, Jon breaks his silence.

“Why are you here?”

He’s got a pleasant voice, if a bit posh. Jon thinks it probably makes him sound older, but he’s yet to land on a confident enough tone. He’ll get there one day. In any case, he’ll be perfect for reading statements. Another point to Elias. 

“No idea what you mean,” he replies with a smile and he can see the boy is startled. He clearly wasn’t expecting a cheery answer, which Peter finds a bit insulting. He’s not that rude. “Just taking in the fresh morning air like yourself.”

“I’m smoking.” Jon waves his cigarette as if Peter had yet to see it. “In what world is that fresh?” 

“Suppose I’m used to it,” he shrugs, leaning more casually against the wall and meeting Jon’s intense gaze. It’s heavy, though not so much as Elias’s is. You’ve got the Eye in you yet. He’s had practice with these types. “Sailors are fond of cigarettes, when they can get them.”

“Is that why you smell?” Jon blanches, as if realizing the rudeness of his question. Peter pauses, unsure of what he means. He’s showered, he’s not dirty. “I-I mean, it’s just- you remind me of the sea, is all.”

The words make him freeze. He shouldn’t be able to pick up on that, Peter’s been careful not to slip too far into the fog. He’s perceptive. Peter doesn’t usually like being seen, or in this case, smelled, but Jon’s an interesting case. He wonders how he’d fare on the Lonely’s shores.

“Smoking kills, you know.” He ignores Jon’s question, relishing the way his eyes narrow. “Nasty habit.”

“Hear secondhand’s just as bad,” he replies with a snarl, dropping his cigarette and stamping out the dying embers with a scuffed brown shoe “So maybe you should find another spot to loiter.”

“You’re right.” He abruptly turns to leave, not sparing a glance back in Jon’s direction. Best to keep him on his toes. It’s a cloudy day and Peter’s feeling quite hungry. For once he has business that keeps him in the city, why not have a little fun in the meantime? 

His phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s a text he won’t answer. He never does, and to be quite honest, he doesn’t really know how.

Elias Bouchard: What are you playing at?

Peter chuckles to himself, slipping the phone back into his coat. 

What indeed.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29266788/chapters/71869302

[twstdreams]

hello!!! i loved your sibling headcannons! could i plz request headcannons for big bros leona, malleus, kalim, rook, and ruggie and how they’d react to finding out their little sister is pregnant and how they’d be as uncles towards their new little niece/nephew? keep up the good work! thx for reading my ask!

Aww! I love sibling content, so I’m so glad to hear you like it too! This got pretty long so Ruggie and Rook are under the cut.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is surprised. He never asked if she planned on having children, not wanting to pressure his little sister

A benign smile forms on his face. The twinkle in his little sister’s eyes is precious. Their family is going to grow and it’s heartwarming

He offers sincere congratulations and states that she’s going to be a lovely mother

His little sister says he’s going to be an amazing uncle and his eyes widen a bit. It’s an unexpected statement but he is touched by her trust and confidence in him.

The reveal is a quiet affair but his heart is full and the two siblings are determined to shower this child with love

Malleus is pretty protective of his little sister when she’s pregnant. He’s determined to ensure both his sibling’s and her child’s safety

He looks like a huge intimidating man, but if this child is affectionate to him, they practically have him wrapped around their finger

Playtime with uncle Malleus is the best

Flying? Grand illusions? Storybooks coming to life? Teleportation? Malleus can do it all. They’re not particularly hard and he’s happy the child is comfortable enough to want to play with him

This creates a cycle, Malleus indulging the child and happy to be included, and his nephew/niece having the time of their life with their all-powerful uncle

If his nephew or niece says Malleus is their favourite? Oh, the pride and smugness practically radiate off him 

Leona Kingscholar

He’s more indifferent. This isn’t a first for him. Cheka gleaming eyes and subsequent squeals at the news are a reminder

Still, it’s not quite the same as before. With Cheka, it was just his brother’s wife who was pregnant. Now it’s you, his little sister that he loves more than he cares to admit

Leona spews some offhanded congratulations but he is really happy for her even if he doesn’t show it

He reminds his sister to take it easier now that she’s pregnant. Take a nap, let someone else not him though handle it, rest a bit, eat some more. After all, she’s taking care of two

One day though, his little sister breaks down crying. She is sobbing and Leona has to awkwardly coax her into admit what’s bothering her. There are awkward pats and a couple huffs, but he’s there.

His little sister admits that she’s worried that the child won’t love her back or that they will come to resent her one day. There’s a tension lingering in the air and Leona knows exactly where her worries spring from

He ruffles her hair and tells her to snap out of it. The fact that she’s concerned to the point of tears means that she cares. “It’ll be fine,” he promises and he means it.

Leona is a lazy uncle through and through. He’s too lazy to ever offer to babysit but he’s also too lazy to give harsh lectures to other people’s kids, which ironically makes him the child’s favourite.

Farena is nice of course, but he’s king and much stricter. Farena’s gifts are more lavish, but there’s a weight that comes from being the main bloodline that is always present in his every action. There’s also a line in the sand that the child comes to learn they’re not allowed to cross, ever.

Leona on the other hand can’t be bothered to stop the child and simply indulges them. Children really are Leona’s weakness and he can’t bring himself to do something that would make a kid cry.

He indulges the child more if they’re a girl. He especially can’t make a little girl cry, even the thought brings him discomfort

He now has two brats that like to bug him, but it is what it is

Kalim Al-Asim

Oh my gosh, Kalim is buzzing with excitement the second he finds out

He embraces his little sister in a hearty hug but quickly lets go and asks if he hugged her too tight. Wouldn’t want to hurt the baby!

He is so thrilled that he’s practically bouncing off the walls

PARTY TIME! He throws an extremely lavish party and makes sure his little sister is front and centre

He nearly drags her to the dance floor and spins her around, but then remembers she’s pregnant and maybe intense dancing is not the best idea

“Oh wait! The baby!” is a common phrase from now on

He gets a million presents even before the baby is born. Cribs, toys, pacifiers, clothes, anything that comes to Kalim’s mind

He adores rubbing his sister’s baby bumps and always feels for kicks

He spoils the child rotten to the point that it’s a problem. His little sister has to make sure their child doesn’t go behind her back and asks uncle Kalim instead

There is now have a rule that Kalim has to always check in with his little sister beforehand 

Him and the child are partners in crime and it’s not an unfamiliar scene for his little sister and Jamil to be lecturing both Kalim and the child

The child loves Kalim and they’re the best of friends. They even trade secrets with each other

Rook Hunt

C’est magnifique! He’s delighted by the news. His sweet little sister is going to have a baby!

He gently twirls his sister around and then embraces her in a hug

They talk about the baby together all the time. Plans for the future, the design of the room, predictions of what the baby will look like, the topics are never ending and the conversations go on for hours

Rook can get annoying at times. Remarks about eating the right things slip through every so often, or a pointed statement about how her appearance isn’t the best right now

He always offers to help and remedies whatever issue he points out though

He photographs the entire pregnancy, taking a photo at least once a month to document his glowing little sister and the progress as the baby bump grows

His nephew/niece has a good relationship with him, but at first, they don’t quite get him

Rook uses random similes and is quite a closed off person, by habit and design. He is more open with his family but he’s not an open book, so that acts as a bit of a barrier

The child comes to understand that they simply don’t understand Rook 100% and that’s okay

They have fun together and go on their own little adventures together. Rook is willing to teach them tricks of the trade and give out hunting advice if they’re interested

When the child grows up, they might throw in random and abstract similes too, something that has brushed off on them. Rook is delighted, the child’s classmates are confused, and Rook’s little sister just sighs

Ruggie Bucchi

What? Pregnant? With a baby?

Wow, oh wow. It’s just sinking in. What happened to his little sister that always waited for him at home? Where is the little girl that depended on him for meals?

He feels so old. Has this much time already passed? He congratulates his little sister but he’s in a daze

He immediately starts saving up money for the kid. Children are so expensive. A mouth to feed, a body to clothe, education fees, the works.

Ruggie even considers getting another part time job depending on how well off his sister is

Ruggie is both hyper aware a kid is coming but it also feels like some weird dream too. Yet the baby bump continues to grow and Ruggie is both anxious and excited

The day they’re born, Ruggie is amazed and a little grossed out. Vernix is hardly cute and silently he thinks of that saying about how only mothers get enamoured with their ugly and squishy baby. 

Still, the child has his heart the moment its born, even if neither of them know it yet

He indulges the kid a bit, because he wants them to have more luxuries than he did. Ruggie hardly spoils them or anything, but he does give gifts and tries to make sure the kid isn’t left needing anything

Ruggie never wants them to know the taste of rotten food.

Ruggie is a nice uncle but he uses white lies when he thinks they’re beneficial

The two bond with each other through cooking! Little cute cooking sessions with knowledge and stories intertwined into the event. Sneaking one too many taste tests and sharing sneaky smiles that only they know what mean

[honestsycrets]

Alfred the Great | Love Alphabet

❛ sy’s notes | This one includes a lot of life scenarios of Alfred and his wife. I enjoy how it came out-- and I hope you do too.

A = Affection (PDA, what sort of affection they give)

“Not here,” he bends his head. You stand behind his throne chair, settling your hand on his shoulder. You press a kiss to his rosy cheek, in the presence of the others, as he waves you off.

Alfred has never been someone who was particularly touchy due to the way he was brought up. While small touches were always common, the way you stroke him-- touch him, caress him, out in the open gives him both a sense of delight and shyness when he realizes that others are watching.

B = Babies (Anything you want about babies)

“Perhaps you should show me.”

“Hold him here,” you guide Alfred’s hands. As he kneels beside your bed, a king on his knees, Alfred feels like any other man-- not a king, fumbling for the right hold.

Has no idea what to do with a baby of his own. He has no experience with holding a child and has no idea what to do when you place his in his arms, only finding himself staring down upon the thing, utterly lost. 

C = Cuddles (How they cuddle or are cuddled)

His days are long. As a king, Alfred very rarely spends time in your rooms. He’s busy with putting all his energy into England for England. So, at the end of a long night, when he crawls in beside you, his hand might drape over your waist. He’d set an apologetic kiss to your head and fall asleep.

D = Darling  (Pet names)

Small ones. He prefers to call you more proper names while in public; his wife, his queen, being the chief of them. Behind closed doors then, he might be more lazy with his pet names. 

E = Enamored (how hard do they fall when in love)

“Who was that girl there--” he points through the crowd. You pick your skirts up, then disappear from where you came, weaving through the crowd here to see the king.

“Where m’lord?” 

“She was just there.”

Admittedly, he has no time to fall in love. His interaction with women outside of his family is limited to chamber maids and the occasional woman during feasts. That is why his marriage was arranged. But if by happenstance he does meet a woman, it’s just that: a sudden pang of surprise.

F = Firsts (A first on anything you pick)

“She won’t know,” you swish around the horse, mounting first, then extending your hand toward him. He takes your hand, despite everything in him saying he shouldn’t, not that day. “Come! Live a little, prince-boy.” 

First fling-- Taking him away from Judith and Aethelwulf is too easy. With everyone’s eye on Aethelred, all you have to do is fool Judith to slip her precious boy away. Alfred is unsure of it-- his mother’s voice beating in his head, where were you! He falls ill when you bring him back.

G = Good Morning (How do they wake you up)

Do forgive me, the parchment reads the day after your wedding. A small golden and pearl necklace sits on top of the crisp paper. I’ve too much to do. I will see you as god allows.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs?)

He does. They’re a small comfort to him when he’s going off to war, but even more so when they are followed up with a kiss, and the command for him to come back safely.

I = In Labor (Labour and Delivery)

“Women have been doing this since the dawn of time, Alfred.” His knuckle taps repeatedly over the parchment. Yes, women have been doing this since the dawn of time-- but not his woman.

He can’t get a lick of work done. He’s too busy thinking of his wife, who labors alone, in her modesty has sent him out. Get something done, he isn’t here yet, you told him. Strong woman. And still he gets nothing done, leaves his chambers, and seeks you out.

J = Jealousy (Are they jealous? How do they handle it?)

“Do you think the blonde one or the brown one is the bigger brother?” your chamber maids say, giggly amongst the quietly gathered. Before him, the Northman stood. 

“The blond,” you speak up, rarely. You never spoke. “What? He’s a big man.” 

Your chambermaids gasp, looking up. “Ooh,” they squeak-- and regretfully, Alfred’s head snaps over too. 

Watchfully. He’s not admittedly jealous-- but quietly and privately so. He asks many questions, rather than interrogate you about your interests in another, to make sense of what happened earlier. You aren’t jealous, are you? you hush him with a kiss. Of course not, he was simply-- concerned.

K = Kisses (How do they kiss? How often?)

Gently-- at any point that he can. Leaving or coming, he doesn’t spare any kisses. He’s often gentle, and so you might have to push him to be a little more passionate. Shyness won’t get him everything after all. 

L = Loyal (How loyal are they?)

Absolutely. 

M = Memory (Their favourite memory about you?)

His grandfather’s bath was a tranquil place. You come here, every moment that you can spare apart from seeing the people, caring for the settlement, and doing your duties as queen. You strip away your clothes and fold them, not hearing the door squeak open, nor Alfred come in. The water plips as you shift into it. At the sound of boots you whirl about, holding your chest. 

“Please.” Alfred stands there. His favourite moments of you are your most private moments. The moments when you think you’re all alone, but aren’t. “Go on-- clean yourself.” 

N = Never! (Dealbreakers)

He can’t deal with someone who might whine about his time. His first concern is England and everything else is secondary to the fact. In his mind, his partner must understand where his allegiance must be.

O = On the Rocks (How do they make up?)

“Why are you here?” you unclipped the earring from the back of your ear, turning to find Alfred waiting by your table where you kept your jewelry box. “Does England not need its king today?” 

“Not if you are still angry,” he raps his knuckles over the table. “I am sorry.”

With his time. It’s so important, and so scarce, that if he knows you are disappointed with him, it’s the one thing he can do to get back into both your good graces and show he’s apologetic about what happened. Or at the least, wants to make amends. 

P = Playtime (Any headcanons on sex)

“Alfred what are you doing?” 

He’ll try almost anything once. At the start of the relationship, you would take the more dominant role by inciting sex. But, after Ubbe came, Alfred seemed to change, putting more effort into chasing you with a strange confidence. The dominance is strange-- but welcome. You wonder how much he told Ubbe about your sex life.

Q = Quiet Time (How do they wind down?)

After his day, if he can sneak away, he likes to cuddle in bed. It’s better than sex to him because he can lace his fingers through yours, and carry off all thoughts of the long day away. 

R = Rapture (What makes them happy?)

He took you that morning to watch him spar with Ubbe. Ubbe was fantastic, you’d admit. A true Northman, strong, witty, quick. But your eye was on Alfred alone, following the way he dodged, the way he moved. You held a cup ready for him when he collapsed beside you. 

“What... do you think?” he heaved between heavy breaths. He could fall into illness, but he didn’t. He was strong, and as he chugged his drink, your hand caressed his chest, coming up behind his neck, kissing him hard and strong. 

“You were perfect.” He admits-- he likes to impress you.

S = Soulmate (What do they think of soulmates?)

“A soulmate?” he asks you about the concept. He’s not heard of such things-- but it sounds... fitting, he’d say.

T = Together (What do you like to do together?)

Off of the carriage, you walked in the dust. Your maids said you would dirty your dress and yet, you didn’t care, you wanted to be among the children. After his duties, Alfred clopped by on his horse, leaning down in his saddle to hand something toward you. You pluck it from his fingers and realize-- it’s a sweet smelling flower. 

Secretly, Alfred enjoys it when you accompany him on his trips. He often does get sick, so if it has to happen, he would prefer that it happen when you are by his side. 

U = Unyielding (How do they handle interlopers on the relationship?)

The queen’s hands had been over him. Not the queen-- not his queen-- but the queen from another place. You had seen the way he pushed her hands down, cupping them together with a shake of his head. “I have a wife,” he stressed. “And no interests in another.” 

Alfred doesn’t tolerate it. He makes sure to snuff out the concerns of women coming after him where they stand. Similarly, he expects you to do the same, although it he must, he will. 

V = Vulnerable (Are they vulnerable often? How do they handle it?)

Not often. Apart from his family, he might be vulnerable with you. Romance and family life is the one place where he might be vulnerable-- and hopes that you’ll protect that vulnerability.

W = Wedding (Wedding headcanons)

“I’ll make it up to you,” Alfred says once the doors are finally shut. You roll on your side, over the small stain of blood dribbled over the sheets, yet still sore. He takes initiative to shift on top of you, his forearm balancing himself. 

“That is not the way you wanted to...” he drops off, knowing that it was foolish and silly when you cup his soft cheek. It’s okay, you have to tell him, over and over again.

Being a king, it’s all done according to how it has to be done. While the wedding is luxurious, it could be better. He knows that-- you deserve his affections in private.

X = (E)x (How do they handle exes? What do they do if they see them)

With a semblance of longing but also of respect. If he’s moved on, he’ll gingerly nod his head, go on his way. If he hasn’t, he might wonder to himself-- perhaps he could have done this, or that, better.

Y = Yearning (What do they do when they miss you?)

Alfred held the end of the table, chewing his cheek, the paper was still not done. He has work to do-- but he can’t help wonder, where were you? Were you well? He turns to one of his guards, “Call the queen,” Alfred stands upright, throwing his hand out lightly. “Tell her I want to eat with her.”

He can’t get any work done. So, he does the only thing he can think to do-- he calls you into his quarters and hopes that this blaring need will quell. Or, if his body is so weak, he has to... eat first.

Z = Zzz… (Sleeping headcanons)

When he’s exhausted, he collapses into bed beside you. He doesn’t remember when he falls asleep, only that you’re there beside him.

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24​, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

You must be he I was seeking

Summary: Roman and Logan have been best friends as long as they can remember, but will it stay that way?

or

Roman and Logan are huge idiots.

Pairings: Logince, backround (but still a lot of) moxiety and dukeceit.

Warnings: mentions of bullying, friends fighting, there is quite a lot of angst but  with happy ending :)

word count: 5690

a/n: Hello everyone, it’s been quite a while since I posted any fic, I am quite proud of this one so I hope yall enjoy it. I originally wrote this for @sanderssantas fic exange for the lovely @therealmoshar! (go check them out!!). I have always wanted to write enemies to lovers and a soulmate au so I absolutely loved writing this. 

The title comes from “To A Stranger” by Walt Withman. 

you can also find it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804592

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

Roman was practically bouncing in his seat at lunch, or more than usual anyway. It seemed today he was surpassing even his sibling in hyperactivity. His mom smiled softly at him.

“You’re going to Logan’s later?” She said knowingly.

Upon hearing his best friends name Roman’s face lit up.

“Yeah I’m gonna, “ he said between haphazard bites of his sandwich “Imma pick him up from his house, after lunch!”

Remus rolled their eyes next to him.

“It’s tragic to be the only one with manners here,” they said.

It is to be noted that they said this while practically covering the entire table and themselves in peanut butter and jelly.

Roman playfully shoved them after he finished his food.

“Shut up, Ree,” he said.

To which Remus responded by sticking their tongue out, before going back to their food. Then Roman looked at his mom with his best pleading puppy dog eyes.

Carmen laughed at her children fondly, shaking her head.

“Fine,” she said “You are excused, Roman.”

The moment she said it, he bolted from the table to put on his shoes.

“Be back at seven!” she shouted at him.

He ran back into the room, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and raid rushed:

“Will do, thank you, bye!”

“Love you!” she called out in the general direction of the hallway.

She heard a very loud “Me too!” and a slam of the door.

She couldn’t help but laugh. He reminded her so much of when she had been young and met her soulmate; she and Isa couldn’t get enough of each other either. Absentmindedly she touched her arm where a garden of flowers is tattooed on her skin and she smiled.

Then she turned back to the table.

“Remus! Do not feed peanut butter to the cat!”

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

Roman knocked excitedly at Logan’s door.

They were going to go to their secret clearing in the neighborhood park. Well “secret”, technically anyone could come there, but there were never any people there.

It was a small clearing with a bench and overgrown plants all around. Roman insisted that the place had to be magical, Logan on the other hand said it was simply forgotten due to poor municipal planning.

Whoever was right didn’t really matter in the end, it was their favorite place to be.

Logan’s dad opened the door, he always looked very similar to Logan, with his dark skin and black curly hair, although Logan’s was shorter. The biggest noticeable difference was his tattoo on his neck that consisted of various little birds, the very same that his mother had.

Anyway, Logan’s dad smiled at him and said:

“Logan’s upstairs, you know the way.”

“Thanks Mr. Sanders!” Roman said, and ran up the stairs.

He practically stormed into Logan’s room.

Logan looked up from Foundation and Empire, annoyed, until he realised who had just charged into his room.

“Roman!” he said, a little too enthusiastically considering they had seen each other yesterday.

“Yeah, now come on Lo! We gotta go to the park!” he said grabbing his friend’s hand and pulling him downstairs.

Logan shook his head at his impatient friend, but did not stop him.

“You do know we still have about six hours of playtime, right?”

“Yeah yeah but the dragon witch is not going to defeat herself!”

Logan could not really argue with that.

He quickly put on his shoes and could only say a quick goodbye to his dad before Roman grabbed his hand and took off towards the park.

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

They played happily for hours, occasionally Logan would point out inconsistencies in Roman’s stories which he always answered with a variation of:

“It’s magic, Specs!” or “we are playing pretend, calculator watch”.

Roman liked nicknames.

And Logan would give in and follow Roman’s nonsensical plot. Logan always liked Roman’s stories a lot, secretly.

They played until the sun started setting, then tired out and content they sat on their bench, surely late for curfew and not bothered by it whatsoever.

Logan rested his head on Roman’s lap, to be able to properly point at the stars and show them all to Roman.

And although Roman couldn’t really remember all that he was told he always listened carefully, slowly threading his fingers through his friend’s hair, smiling at Logan’s beaming face.

It was time to go home and a comfortable silence fell over them.

Roman sighed content and said.

“We will always be together, won’t we Lo?”

Logan sat up and looked at his friend.

“Always is a very long time, Ro.”

“You think we won’t?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Roman laughed

“It's almost as if you like me, nerd.”

Logan tried to give him an annoyed look, which ended up looking more along the lines of “desperately fond”.

“For the record,” Logan said. “We will be together forever.”

Barely above a whisper but with the conviction one could only have when speaking an absolute truth.

It was strong wording, but such are the things you say when you have yet to turn nine and the world seems simple.

And they believed it, with all of their hearts, they really did.

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

Then middle school rolled around, and everything went wrong. And as far as Roman is concerned, it was all Logan’s fault.

A few months after they started middle school Logan already seemed to change so much. He was quiet and reserved, which is something he had always been, but never around Roman. He was also always seemingly busy.

Roman didn’t know about how kids made fun of Logan in class, how slowly but surely Logan began to believe his only redeemable quality was his grades.

It’s not like Logan told him.

What made it harder is that they weren’t in the same class anymore, so they only saw each other after school.

More and more often Logan would be studying, or taking extra classes, which he didn’t even need in Roman’s opinion.

Roman got increasingly sadder, and quietly wondered what happened to his best friend.

As far as Logan was concerned it was all Roman’s fault, because he had replaced him.

One day Logan arrived at Roman’s house, unannounced, sure, but they did that all the time.

Or they had done that once.

Remus opened the door and seemed genuinely surprised to see him.

“Logan…” they said, pitifully?

“Hello, is Roman home?”

“Yes, but,” they hesitated “he has a friend over.”

Logan’s brain short circuited, a friend? Of course Roman could have other friends, many people at school liked him. He was allowed to have other people over that weren’t him.

It still didn’t sit right with him.

He walked up the familiar staircase to Roman’s door, which was easy to find because it said “Roman” in cursive red and gold and covered in stickers.

He heard Roman’s loud laughter mixed with someone else's.

He opened the door to find Patton Jones in Logan’s usual spot, next to Roman on his bed laughing at a joke only the two of them understand.

The two on the bed stopped abruptly when they saw Logan at the door.

“Logan!” Roman said excitedly, because they hadn’t seen each other in more than a week.

“It’s good that you are here,” he continued.”Now you can meet Patton!”

Patton smiled in a way that seemed to light up his freckled clad face, he seemed lovely with his sunny smile and golden curls, Logan felt something akin to anger bubbling in his chest, he immediately did not like Patton.

“You must be Logan,” Patton said happily “Roman talks about you a lot.”

Logan completely missed Roman blushing, and instead realised that the feeling bubbling up in his chest was something as stupid as jealousy.

“I can come by another time.”  he said.

“No, no its going to be fun!”

The rest of the evening was awkward. Roman and Patton had jokes and stories Logan didn’t know. Logan couldn’t shake the horrible feeling in his stomach.

Logan left before dinner in a hurry.

Roman was extremely confused, why couldn’t Logan even be just nice to Patton.

Patton was sweet and if Logan didn’t appreciate that, Patton was Roman’s friend.

“I am sorry Pat, I have no idea what’s up with him.”

“I think he might just be jealous, Ro.” Patton said softly.

But Logan was not an idiot, there was no reason to be jealous, Roman was sure Logan knew that. But of course he didn’t tell him that.

“No, I think he is just being a jerk.”

Patton shook his head sadly, he didn’t like it when people were hurting.

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

Roman and Logan saw each other less and less through middle school.

They didn’t talk about the things that bothered them or anything really, and soon painful silence fell over them when they hung out.

Things didn’t completely get ruined until about a week before summer vacation.

“My parents agreed for you to come along with our vacation.” Logan said, pretending very hard that everything was fine.

They had always gone on vacation together, he saw no reason for it to be different this year.

Roman shifted uncomfortably.

“Still the week of the 11th?”

Logan eyed him dubiously.

“Yes? It’s always been that week?”

Roman looked at the ground guiltily.

Logan stared at him baffled.

“You forgot?!” Logan said, way too loud, his fists clenched, his body tensed up.

“I am so so sorry Logan! I am going camping with Pat that week but maybe-”

Logan saw red.

Of course he thought what did I expect?

“Fine! Go hang out with Patton then!” he yelled, trying very hard not to cry.

Roman threw up his hands.

“I don’t know why you hate Patton so much!”

“I don’t! I just-”

“You do.”

Logan clenched his jaw so hard he wondered whether he could break his teeth like that.

Roman looked at him with a challenge.

“This is preposterous Roman, we are not toddlers anymore.”

“So you admit you dislike Patton.”

Logan slowly breathed in and out.

“I do not.”

Roman shook his head.

“Oh yeah? You merely hate when I hang out with him? God forbid I want to have a friend that doesn’t ditch me because he is a such a fucking nerd!”

Roman regretted the words the moment they left his mouth and saw Logan flinch.

Logan looked back at him as if he had just been slapped.

Kids at school said those things, but Roman, Roman wouldn’t.

Yet he had.

Logan felt tears prickle in his eyes.

“Logan...“ Roman said softly.

“I hate you!” Logan shouted, before storming off.

Roman did not run towards him, nor did he try to reason with him.

He just shouted “Fine!”

And ran back home choking back tears.

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

3 years later.

Pretty much everyone at Gainesville High School knew Roman Reyes and Logan Sanders.

Roman Reyes was known as a semi-popular theatre kid, that many people knew either because he constantly got the lead role in the school’s play or because he was signed up to at least 10 different extracurricular clubs and activities. Most people liked him well enough, although he usually sat at lunch only with Patton Jones and occasionally his twin.

Whom was another reason he was known across the school, people tend to remember you if your sibling blew up the lab, on multiple occasions.

Logan Sanders was a genius, who had won more science contests than anyone else at the school ever. Everyone also liked him well enough, or at least they said so ever since he started hanging out with Deceit - who did have a real name, supposedly, but made up a new one every time someone asked him - and Virgil Decker. Who were both rather punk/emo and would not hesitate to fuck you up if you messed with their friends. They had a very interesting brand of psychological warfare they had used on Chad Carson when he had spray painted Logan’s locker in freshman year, no one had dared to mess with him since.

Anyway, they had many things in common, Logan and Roman.

They both had a tendency of arguing with teachers, they both had interesting brands of extra, they both liked to wear skirts occasionally.

And mostly everyone knew them because they knew that letting those two in a room together was about as catastrophic as letting an atomic bomb go off.

Some of their arguments and fights were famous.

Like the time they argued for two periods about the correct interpretation of a single line in Hamlet , derailing poor Ms. Chase’s math class.

Or the time Roman joined the debate team loudly announcing to anyone who would listen that he was doing it to kick Logan’s butt. In retribution Logan had auditioned for the role Roman wanted in the school play. They now shared the role, much to the demise of the whole theatre cast and crew and director Thomas Sanders.

Or the time they were doing their standard comparing grades and bickering shenanigans which escalated in Roman pouring water over Logan, which in turn got Roman covered in an unholy mix of coffee and red bull.

Everyone tried to separate them as much as possible, but it seemed somehow those two always ended up stuck together.

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

Patton sighed as Roman shouted yet another stupid nickname at Logan, who was sitting all the way across the cafeteria. Logan shouted back a “burn” that sounded suspiciously like a rap verse.

Patton gave a sympathetic smile and wave at Virgil who seemed to be faking slamming his head onto the table in frustration.

Virgil saw him and blushed timidly and waved back, which in turn made Patton blush.

He looked down at his arm looking at his forming soulmark. He had made friendship bracelets is whole life, he was in fact looping one now. A green one, Remus had bitten through their old one. Now he had the simple design of one on his right wrist, a blue one with a little purple heart in the middle. He really, really hoped Virgil had the same tattoo.

Roman didn’t notice his very obvious crush and instead started ranting about Logan, again.

Patton tuned him off as much as he could.

“You two are like Harry and Draco.” Patton cut him off, hoping Harry Potter might make him stop.

Roman scoffed.

“I hope you mean that he is Draco.”

“You have been talking about him for the past ten minutes!” Patton countered.

“First of all clearly I am a Gryffindor, second of all he is just so-”

“Infuriating!” Logan said to Dee and Virgil who were totally paying attention and hadn’t heard this all before.

“Oh,” Dee said, rolling his eyes “you hadn’t mentioned it.”

“I haven’t? Well in that case-”

They were saved by an impromptu lecture on everything infuriating Roman had ever said and done by Remus, who slammed their lunch on the table. They proceeded to crawl on Dee’s lap casually.  Virgil muttered “get a room” which earned him a middle finger from Remus.

“Can’t you shut up about my brother for one second Lolo,” they said “there are more subjects, you know.”

Logan did not give in.

“Doesn’t your brother regard you as a traitor?”

“For sitting with my soulmate?” Remus rolled their eyes “You are so dramatic, nerdy wolverine, besides Roman may be a pain in the ass, but he is also a romantic.”

Logan wrinkled his nose looking at Deceit and Remus’s intertwined arms. In full display was a currently simple, but surely one day extremely extra green and yellow serpent tattoo that coiled around both of their arms, making it hard to make out where each of them ended or started.

They were ridiculous. And so was his mark, it was not visible but it was a simple and way too cartoonish bunch of stars under his left shoulder blade.

Soulmates where stupid, in Logan’s opinion.

“It’s not like any of you like Roman, I am in my right to find him aggravating and-” he saw all of his friends looking at him incredulously. “What?”

He distinctly heard Dee mutter: “Lord grant me patience, because if you grant me strength someone will get murdered.”

“Well, I mean Princey isn’t my best friend but,” Virgil shrugged “ I like him well enough, plus his antics in debate club are always entertaining.”

Logan looked at Virgil disbelieving, then at Dee who smirked a bit.

“He certainly is dramatic and annoying, I’ll give you that but then again,” he gestured vaguely at his company on the table “a lot of people are.”

Vrigil rolled his eyes, Remus simply nodded in agreement.

Logan scoffed.

Since when does Deceit hang out with Roman anyway, well aside from play rehearsal and the fact that he is his soulmates brother and- , Logan thought, realised he was being stupid and shook his head.

“I have seen you hit Roman with a morning star, Remus, you can not tell me you enjoy his company.”

“It was play rehearsal!” Remus defended “and we are siblings, it’s different.”

“I can’t fathom any of you enjoy his company he-”

“Well don’t be like that, you two used to be best friends.” Remus said nonchalantly.

Virgil stared at Logan baffled, Dee burst into laughter.

“I am not joking!” Remus said amused.

Dee shook his head.

“I know, darling, but it's not like we have had to endure daily rants on how dreadful Roman is, and it turns out they were fucking best friends!”

Virgil just kept staring at Logan quizzically.

“Yes, Roman and I were,” he hesitated not sure how to phrase it “..close, but we were children, it was quite some time ago.”

“What happened?”

Logan looked briefly across the cafeteria to Roman’s table, where Patton was tying a friendship bracelet to Roman’s wrist.

“He found new friends.”

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

Logan hadn’t quite realised how much he missed Roman, but now that he had been lying wide awake for quite some time, memories of both of them unable to get out of his head, he supposes it’s a lot more than he initially thought.

He really does like his current friends, but somehow Roman had been different, they had been so very close and Logan had believed they would be together forever.

There was still a picture somewhere buried under books on his desk he couldn’t bring himself to throw away.

It was a nice spring day, they had their arms around each other, they were both smiling so wide it seemed impossible, they were probably around ten years old, childhood innocence still in their eyes. And Roman was looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

Where had that look gone? What had happened?

Logan’s chest ached with nostalgia,and although he had previously never ever considered sneaking out, on this night with a full moon and thousands of stars he quietly slips into his coat and shoes.

He opens the front door silently and he walks calmly to the clearing in the park.

Their park.

He gets there and goes to sit on the bench.

Their bench.

He looks up at the sky, he looks at the stars that he once considered theirs.

A deep melancholy settles into his chest threatening to blow him into pieces.

Tears prickle in his eyes for times long gone.

He is snapped out of his thoughts by a soft, surprised, achingly familiar voice.

“Logan?” his best friend, his rival, a stranger says.

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

Patton had never been mad at Roman before. Sure Roman could be a bit much, Patton had been frustrated, annoyed, aggravated, perhaps a tad angry.

But today it seemed he had finally crossed a line with him. Roman was, as usual, ranting about Logan.

Patton had sighed heavily.

“Now you are just being mean, Roman, I know you miss him but-”

And ok, Roman may have exploded a little, stating that he was better off without Logan in about ten different ways.

Patton had huffed and said in a tone Roman had never heard from him before: “Fine, see you tomorrow.” and he walked away.

And now in the middle of the night Roman couldn’t shake Patton's words out of his head. Mostly because he had been right.

He did miss Logan.

He looked at the little stars, just under his shoulder blade in the mirror. They always reminded him of Logan, and his ceiling full of glow in the dark stars. Too bad Logan hated his guts.

He put his shirt back on and looked through the window, out to the full moon and the stars.

He made his way downstairs careful not to wake up his moms’. Downstairs he bumped into Remus who snickered at him.

“Sneaking out little brother, I always figured you were too much of a goody-two-shoes for that.”

Roman eyed his sibling dubiously, they were wearing a neon green skirt with suspenders over a black crop-top, knee length boots, and those weird long fingerless gloves.

Roman wondered how they could possibly be related.

“First of all, what are you wearing? Second you are also sneaking out and third we are twins! And i was born first!”

Remus laughed and grabbed a rat out of their skirt pocket.

“Can you believe how easy it is to rile him up, Woody?” they said to the rat. “Isn't he ridiculous?”

“You are sneaking out with your rats?”

Remus carefully stuffed the rat back in their pocket and said: “Dee is having a party!”

As if this was an explanation for the rats. Also Roman knew very well Deceits “parties” consisted of either vandalising public property with anarchist messages or some other sort of public disturbance.

Roman shook his head and walked towards the door.

“Don’t get arrested, I won’t bail you out this time.” he called over his shoulder.

“I make no promises.” they said before disappearing through the kitchen window, for some reason.

Outside he wondered whether Logan joined them in their mischief these days.

Logan seemed like a rational individual, but slap a decent hypothesis to any shenanigans and he will call it an “experiment” and go along gleefully.

Or he used to anyway.

He walked towards the park remembering all the trouble they had gotten into, chuckling sadly at his memories.

He made it to the clearing as if last time had been yesterday, and not years ago.

There to his surprise was Logan Sanders, looking up to the sky and...crying?

“Logan?” he asked, unsure of whether or not he was dreaming.

Logan looked at him, a little bit shocked, but mostly he looked tired.

They stood still for a moment staring at each other tension everywhere.

Finally it was broken by a small, exhausted voice.

“I am tired of fighting, Roman.”

He looked so sad, so small, Roman wanted nothing more than to gather him in his arms.

He didn’t, instead he sat next to him.

“I think I am too.”

Silence fell over them again.

“Then pray tell,” Logan said. “What are we doing?”

Roman looked down at his hands.

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “You promised you know.” Roman said bitterly. “Forever.”

Logan looked back at him, anger clearly bubbling right back into his stomach.

“Maybe we would’ve if you hadn’t replaced me!” he spat with venom in his voice.

Roman’s eyes widened in surprise he turned to Logan baffled.

“What?” Roman asked.

“Well it was clear you favored Patton, which I suppose should be fine, but-”

“Hold up! Time out!” Roman said shaking his hands. “You were jealous? You thought I liked Patton better?”

Now Logan looked equally baffled.

“I- yes?” he said.

Roman burst out laughing. Logan really didn’t get the joke.

“What?” he demanded.

“I thought you didn’t like me anymore! I mean we never hung out anymore and you seemed so distant.” he gripped Logan’s hands firmly into his own. “I love Patton don’t get me wrong, but I started hanging it with him because I was so lonely,” he looked into Logan’s eyes “without you.”

“You were?” Logan said his voice so small.

Thus Roman realised he was an idiot, a petty, stubborn, stupid moron .

“Yeah, I was.” he sighed sadly. “I am sorry, for what I said then and well for everything.”

Logan shook his head.

“It was so long ago.”

“I should never have said that.”

Logan smiled just a little bit.

“I apologize too, for everything.”

Roman smiled back.

“Man, I thought you were being a jerk to Patton for no reason.”

Now it was Logan’s turn to laugh, a little bitterly and with bitten back tears.

“Patton seemed so perfect, and with everything people were saying at school,” he looked away from Roman. “I did not think there was a way I could compete with him.”

Roman did hug him then, clutching to the back of his shirt, pressing Logan close and said:

“No one could ever compete with you, Specs.”

Logan’s heart soared, he hugged back and clung to Roman like a life raft, he let out a shaky laugh, a breath of relief and said very quietly but full of conviction:

“No one could ever compete with you either.”

They stayed in the park way too long, remembering old times, making plans for times ahead. Perhaps it should’ve been awkward, but somehow it wasn’t, they fit like two pieces of a puzzle, just like they always had.

They had years to catch up on, but soon they realised that their lives were still intertwined, their friendship group was pretty much the same and they shared extracurricular activities. They had never really been separated at all.

They did still bicker, but they didn’t fight and their words lacked bite or venom.

So they ended up pressed against each other, looking up at the stars. Logan’s head rested on Roman’s shoulder.

“Look it’s Cassiopeia.” Roman said, pointing at the constellation.

Logan couldn't quite bring himself to be embarrassed about the way he giggled.

“I thought I was supposed to be the astronomy guy.” he said.

Roman smiled into his hair.

“I did listen, you know, when you talked about the stars.”

Logan looked up at the stars and held Roman closer, he remembered, now how it had been so easy to promise him forever.

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

The next day at Gainesville high school everyone was fairly sure the apocalypse had just started, because Roman Reyes and Logan Sanders had eaten lunch together, with all of their friends, who all seemed delighted and not at all bothered by it. And not just that they had, supposedly also sat together in all classes they could.

“You are kidding me, babe.” said Remy Katz taking a sip from his starbucks iced coffee.

“I swear I am not!” said a very baffled Emile Picani, “I saw them at lunch!”

“You sure they weren’t try to poison each others food? Secretly murdering each other through pure passive aggressiveness?”

Emile recalled how he had seen them, their smiles blinding, looking at each other as if they hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

“Yes, I am sure,” he said smiling “They seemed happy.”

-----------

Logan and Roman’s friends had varied reactions to finding their years long rivalry had ended with a good conversation and some hugs.

Patton was so utterly delighted he hadn’t been able to be mad at anyone, especially after Logan’s very sincere apology, the gist of which was “I was a jealous thirteen year old, and I am sorry.”

Patton had hugged Logan very tightly and handed him a blue bracelet with a little star in the middle.

Logan smiled surprised.

“How did you know I liked astrology?”

Patton smirked and said: “Roman talked about you, a lot.”

Roman turned cherry red and sputtered some nonsensical words.

And of course all his friends were kind enough to laugh at his expense, really loudly.

After that Virgil offered his reaction which had been something akin of “Fucking finally.”

To which Patton said: “Language, babe.”

And Roman got his revenge by laughing very loudly at Virgil's very red face.

Which was not much of a revenge at all because Patton felt so very sorry that they were laughing at his poor boyfriend and so kissed him quite sweetly.

To which Remus shouted: “get a room!” which they shouted while sitting on Dee’s lap with their legs coiled around each other.

Dee had then shook his head, looked Roman up and down and said: “I suppose we can add another moron to our group.” A statement that no one argued.

Everyone ate happily together, bickering loudly and laughing a tad too loud.

Patton and Virgil tentatively held hands under the table; their bracelet tattoos giving an illusion of hands bound together, content and forever.

Deceit and Remus ate, as always, half on each others laps, their arms twisted together to show the serpent seemingly pressing them together.

As for Roman and Logan? Well I hope it is established by now that they are clueless morons.

Yes, they were friends again, and everyone pretty much assumed they had figured out they were soulmates as well.

But

It took them a week more.

It all happened over lunch at Roman’s house, Roman was eating, or well he was shoving food in his mouth as rushed as possible.

His moms shared a knowing look.

“Are you going to Logan’s later?” Carmen aksed.

Roman’s face lit up and made something of a sound of agreement.

“After lunch!”

Everyone at the table couldn’t help but smile at his besotted face, even Remus.

“Well I am glad I don't have to hear your rants about not having a soulmate anymore, they were getting exhausting.” They said brightly.

Roman practically dropped his fork in shock, eyes wide he turned to his sibling.

“What?” Roman said, trying to process the sentence.

“Wait, you seriously hadn’t figured it out yet?” Remus said dumbfounded.

And when Roman, still shocked, shook his head, Remus burst into laughter joined by their moms’ not so subtle chuckling.

Roman on the other hand was freaking out.

“Oh my Gods! Logan is my soulmate?! Oh my- I- What?!” Roman sputtered.

Which just made Remus laugh harder.

“How do you know?” Roman continued “When did you see Logan shirtless? Wait! Do I want to know?”

Remus waved their hand dismissively.

“I got sulfuric acid on his shirt, doesn’t matter, long story, but like...you really didn’t know?!”

Roman felt like his world had been shaken upside down.

He had to-

“GO! I have to go!”

Carmen, who was still laughing said: “you are excused, Roman.”

As soon as she said that Roman bolted out of the door, nearly forgetting his shoes.

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

Roman knocked on Logan’s door excitedly. Logan’s dad opened the door and smiled down at him.

“It’s good to see you again Roman!”

Roman nodded politely, still practically vibrating from emotion.

Logan’s dad seemed to notice, laughed and said:

“Logan’s upstairs, you know the way.”

“Thanks Mr. Sanders.” Roman said as he dashed up the stairs.

Upstairs he actually barged into Logan’s room.

Logan looked up from his book and did not even try to hide his glee as he said:

“Roman! You are early.”

He also did not hide his surprise and subsequent rush of warmth to his face when Roman blurted out: “Take off your shirt!”

“I- wh- what?” he stammered.

Roman laughed, still bouncing.

“Ok, ok,” he said. “I could’ve frased that one better, wait let me just-”

Then Roman started taking his shirt off, oh Goodness Gracious-

“Roman what in the world are you-”

Then Roman turned around.

And Logan’s heart either stopped or started beating so fast he couldn’t properly feel it anymore. Because there, covering Roman’s right shoulder blade was a perfectly glitterly, stupidly cartoonish little galaxy.

“We are soulmates.” he stated.

And then again, and again and again getting steadily more excited as he went.

Roman looked on at his shiny face and wondered if it was possible to die of fondness and cuteness overload.

“Yeah, L.” Roman said, giggly and breathless. “We are.”

Logan came closer, laughing now, joy clear on his face.

“Oh,” he said shaking his head. “We are such idiots.”

“Oh yeah we are.”

Logan came to his senses only for a second to realise that Roman was still shirtless.

He coughed pointedly, Roman smirked.

“I don’t know, pocket protector, don’t like what you see?”

Logan swatted him lightly and gave him a fake scandalised look

“Put a shirt on, Roman.”

Roman pouted but obliged and put on his shirt, making a whole show of turning around and putting on his shirt as slowly as possible.

He turned around.

“So-” he started and never finished, because Logan grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him.

Roman made a sound at the back of his throat between “delighted” and “please God more”. And he kissed back, practically making them both fall on Logan’s bed.

Their kiss, they both agreed, had to be magical, they were soaring flying and pulling each other closer and closer, practically melting against each other. They giggled and laughed and whispered sweet nothings that meant the world and nothing at all.

They ended up pulling apart only for the insufferable need for air.

They sat up on Logan’s bed,panting, pressed against each other, looking up at Logan’s glow in the dark stars in pleasant silence.

Roman gently brushed the hair out of his soulmates face and said softly:

“We will always be together, won’t we love?”

Logan smiled and leaned into his touch.

“Always is a long time, beloved.”

Roman tenderly brushed his cheek.

“You think we won’t be?”

Logan closed his eyes, smiling contendly.

“That’s not what I said.”

God, I love him so much. They both thought.

“Gosh, it’s almost as if you like me, nerd.”

They both giggled.

Then Logan pulled Roman even closer and whispered into Roman’s ear, very faintly, but with the conviction one could only have when speaking an absolute truth.

“I know we will be together forever.”

And they believed it, with all of their hearts, they did.

[madamichaicha]

Tryst (Kakashi x Mei)

The rather harsh and barbaric reputation of the Bloody Mist Village faded with its former leader’s passing. And in Yagura’s place, the young Godaime Mizukage transformed Kirigakure, and restored it to the highly functioning and prestigious shinobi nation it is today.

Mizukage Mei, an incendiary flower, a woman more perceptive than most and known for her lonesome beauty, had succeeded in stabilizing her village after such a dark and blood stained history. With time, her reputation preceded her, with reforming internal policies and improving diplomatic affairs, Mei tirelessly worked night and day, obliging her Kage duties and responsibilities. She was sacrificing her personal life, and all that it included, for the sake of the village and its people. But some days were harder than most, and on those days, Mei often found herself craving the touch of another. She really hated how picky she had become with age, and often cursed her damned sex drive. But she craved the intimate touch of another, especially after long and demanding days.

At the reminder of her most recent pact… a secret pact she had made just days prior, Mei chuckled darkly as she felt her cheeks warm at the fresh memory. Opening her window, trying to cool her flushed face, the Mizukage finished dressing and readied herself for the gala event the Feudal Lords and Daimyo were throwing downstairs in her honor, somewhat ignoring the faint but familiar chakra signature idling just stories below.

To think you would actually be waiting outside my window…  

Smirking under the long bangs that shrouded her face, Mei combed through her long locks one last time and applied a bit of color to her lips. After blowing herself a kiss in the mirror, she stood and made her exit, turning back to give the open window a last minute glance before disappearing into the stairwell.

With one hand gracing the banister, Mei descended the grand staircase in the most dignified of ways, all befitting of the prestigious diplomatic leader she had come to embody. With each stair, her long legs slipped through the thigh high slit in her cerulean gown, the light silk fabric flowing behind her with ease as she made her way down to the main floor, where her hand was met with an obligatory kiss from her head guard, Ao.

"We've got unexpected company, my lady."

"So it seems. Just remember what we discussed, and see that it gets taken care of."

"Yes ma’am."

"Be sure to fetch me when it’s done, okay?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Good. Now if you’ll excuse me… I have some schmoozing to do.”

With a deep and reflective inhale, Mei wore her seductive grin across the floor, her charisma guiding her through the crowd of cretins and pompous Lords and Ladies that had gathered in hopes of appeasing their Kage. It annoyed her to no end, but she had to control her emotions. What did these people know about being a shinobi… a kunoichi even? They knew nothing of pain, sacrifice, or true loss. The only loss they knew involved the loss of paper from their wallets. It was disgusting, really.

Day and night these pigs drool over me, bitching about money here and money there… offering mere pocket change for high rank missions, but dropping tons of cash for pointless ass kissing parties like this… these idiots! This whole party could have funded my shinobi for weeks! What a waste.

Clearing her thoughts and throat, Mei simply offered a polite and reserved smile… gritting her teeth to quell the lava she was tempted to spew during such trite and pointless conversations. They went nowhere and provided little, if any, substance. After making her rounds, talking to all the “important” individuals in attendance, she sat down at her chair at the head of the long and excessively adorned dining hall table where they were to enjoy an elegant five course meal.

Rolling her eyes at the pomp of it all, Mei sat displeased. Disinterested eyes watched everyone enjoy their meal, her restless and perfectly manicured nails drumming on the ostentatious table cloth. Bored with always being the center of attention, Mei often made it a point to stare down each one of the men who let their lingering gazes go unchecked in such long, lewd intervals. Even whilst their wives sat beside them, their disgusting glances still sought her out. But as she returned the favor, putting them under severe scrutiny, she reveled in watching them unravel and fall to pieces. They thought they were so smooth, but as soon as she played at their own game, they crumbled before her… mere specs of ash.

Ha, those pigs! They should be so lucky!

Scoffing at the useless scum littering her presence, her mind flashed with more appealing images, her cheeks flushing with remembrance.  

"Hmm, I wonder how things are going…" she whispered to herself, turning up the glass as she finished the remainder of her Sake.

Proving to be impatient and politely excusing herself from the table as the final course dishes were collected, the ball continued behind her, the music drowning out her enthusiastic humming as she jovially ascended the stairs. She couldn't bother waiting for a signal now, not when she knew he was so close.

Meanwhile…

Kakashi stood below the tallest building in Kirigakure, his eyes drifting towards the windows of the Kage quarters as he made his perimeter sweep. Noting the security detail at the front doors seemed to be excessive tonight, he watched from the shadows as fancy carriages and ornate palanquins brought in an endless parade of stuffy upper class citizens. Judging by their formal attire, and the distant hum of music, the festivities must have already started.

Satisfied that nothing else seemed out of the ordinary, Kakashi took a seat and leaned back against the pillars of the building across the street, pulling out his ever present copy of Icha Icha Special Shinobi Edition, now with twelve additional pages of full color illustrations. It had been a wondrous gift.

But before his eye could make its way through a whole page, he briefly glanced up at the lit window again, this time, wide open with its light blue curtains undulating in the breeze.

It had to be a sign.

Smiling to himself beneath the taut fabric of his mask, he laughed off his attempt to hinder his impatience, stowing his beloved book in his back pouch as he stood.

It was time for a quick visit.

Sleuthing through the dark of night, he made his way across the street in a flash. After he was sure he had not been seen by the guards, he concentrated his chakra to the bottoms of his feet and scoured up the building in no time, light on his toes as he slipped through the open window and into the seemingly empty room. With his eye searching for his target, his brow creased a bit as he felt some what disappointed.

Was his timing off?

Had he misread the situation?

Promising himself he’d return later in the evening, Kakashi sighed as he turned back towards the window. Before he could make his escape, he felt the air leave his lungs as he was thrown to the ground, his body hitting the floor with a jarring thud. Coughing and sputtering Kakashi held up his hands innocently, trying to explain the misconception, but his words fell on deaf ears as he was picked up and dragged along by two burly no-nonsense shinobi.

Tossing his body into a chair like it was a rag doll, the two voiceless thugs secured Kakashi’s hands behind the back of the chair. After his ankles had been bound to each leg of the chair as well, Ao stepped in front of the masked intruder, his stone cold stare beaming straight through the man who was laughing nervously at the whole situation.

"Look… I think there has been a huge misunderstanding. See, I was just-"

"Just trying to what? Creep into the Mizukage’s bedroom? Seems you really are just a pervert, aren’t you, Copy Nin?"

"Well, that is a matter of opinion. But you should know, I had no ill intentions towards Mei."

*SLAP*

"You dare use her first name in my presence, you perverted punk?! You shall address her as Lady Mizukage, unless you feel like losing that tongue of yours” Ao warned, pulling his hand back, satisfied with the harsh hit across the smug leaf ninja’s face.

Accustomed to interrogation and prisoner etiquette, Kakashi barely flinched as the back of Ao’s hand made contact on the curvature of his cheek bone, his exposed eye blinking once before staring back up at the narrowed eye of the other.

"I’m sure you’ll find that Lady Mizukage is rather attached to my tongue, as am I. So if you’ll just hear me out… I’m sure we can all have a good laugh about this.”

*SLAP*

Scoffing at the Copy Nin’s ill attempt at humor, Ao retracted his hand once again, pleased with his hit across the offending mouth. He really had no patience for this man, and was taking his job a little too seriously at this point, smirking down at the other with a sense of superiority.

Still tingly from the last backhand across his face, Kakashi chuckled briefly. Spitting a bit of blood out through his mask, he turned his amused face back towards the man in the eye patch who seemed to be enjoying this.

"I’m not interested in anything you have to say, Hatake. You are trespassing and I should have you dealt with accordingly. You are a long ways from home, so I’m having a hard time believing you just got lost. So save your tired excuses."

"What makes you think I have an excuse? I may have a legitimate reason for being here. Shouldn’t you ask questions first?" Kakashi lilted, a sly smirk hidden beneath his troublesome mask. "Seems they do things a little differently here in Mist.”

Just as Ao pulled his arm back to land another hit, the door opened abruptly and a sharp voice halted his efforts.

"Leave him to me, boys. You’re dismissed."

"Aw, but we were having so much fun together" Kakashi feigned, his glare never leaving Ao’s. He loved the fact that he could see the old man’s nerves unraveling his usually stoic features at the realization that his playtime was over.

As the two giant shinobi made their exit, Ao walked around Kakashi, lowering his head to his ear, making his final threat.

"If you hurt her, Kami-sama as my witness... I shall make you pay."

"Roger that" Kakashi nodded in response to the man’s brash promise, keeping further comments to himself as he heard the him clench his teeth and turn on his heel towards the door.

With the click of the lock, Kakashi’s smile seemed to reappear as Mei sauntered over behind her detainee, slim arms smoothing over his bound shoulders and down the taught expanse of his chest.

"Seems like you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, Ka-ka-shi" the Mizukage purred, her lips barely grazing the outer shell of his ear.

"Nothing I couldn’t handle, Mizukage-sama" the silver haired jonin disclosed in a gruff tone, his spine straightening as her breath tickled the side of his neck.

With her fingers clawing down his chest, a brief sigh left his lips, his curious eye watching her efforts as a hand ventured down across the front of his pants.

"Oh? It appears you like being tied up and toyed with. Does the great Copy Ninja Kakashi like to play rough?" she suggested, her hand following the curve of his growing erection.

"You have no idea."

"Don’t I?" Mei grinned as she walked around to face the tethered man, her elegant fingers raising his chin to her as they shared a prolonged look of hidden meaning.

Climbing atop Kakashi’s lap, straddling his seated form, green eyes combed over a masked face as she let a finger slip beneath the edge of the black cloth. Slowly sliding it down, the material pooled at the base of Kakashi's neck, revealing his full face for her to enjoy.

"Ao always did hate Leaf ninja… some things never change I guess" Mei pouted, leaning in to lick the remaining drop of blood off his slightly swollen lip.

"Good thing I got here when I did. Any more trouble, and I might not be able to enjoy this handsome face of yours" she teased, biting her bottom lip. “That mouth of yours does seem to get you in an awful lot of trouble.”

"It may get me into trouble, but it is more than capable of getting me out of any trouble I might find myself in” he confessed with a smirk.

The silence built between them, the tension palpable as they sat facing each other, a curious gleam in their eyes as they simultaneously broke down the wall between them. Without tender caresses or whispered sweet nothings, the two were upon each other, their faces colliding together, kisses filled with urgency as they both consumed each other arduously. She, a powerful Kage, and he, an infamous and highly decorated shinobi from another village. It was a thrill they both enjoyed.

In the the throws of their heated exchange, they silently agreed to use each other. They both knew all too well of the risks and irritating pretenses of the dating game, and chose to steer clear of that train wreck waiting to happen. Those were roads too often traveled for their liking, a mutual point they had both made very clear in nights prior.

As the Copy Nin's hands gripped her waist, his fingers digging into her sides pulling her close, he simply chuckled at her surprised gasp.

"Like I said, nothing I couldn’t handle" he chirped, holding up his freed hands that he had released some time ago, making quick work of wriggling his feet free as well.

With an impressed nod, Mei crashed her lips upon his at once, humming delightedly as she felt his tongue slip between her lips, tapping at her own. As the searching muscles danced around, she put up an honorable fight for dominance before submitting to Kakashi’s fixed determination.

With a victorious growl, Kakashi ran his hands under her dress and up the finely toned thighs of the powerful woman atop him, his fingers meeting no resistance as they reached her hips.

"Naughty naughty, Mizukage” he teased, “No panties under this beautiful gown of yours?"

"What for? They only get in the way” she gasped between kisses, “You said so yourself."

"How very true. But let’s not forget why I came tonight, Mei-sama" Kakashi added in the darkest of tones. "We have unfinished business."

"Oh, that? Can’t it just wait until later?”

"No. Now” Kakashi demanded, ignoring her wanton groan as his hands squeezed her firm backside, picking her up as he stood from the chair.

Walking over towards the desk in her office chambers, Kakashi caught her lips once again, not interested in any excuses. He had an objective, and he wasn’t leaving until he completed his mission. He was stubborn and set in his ways, but even more so, he needed this and would not be convinced otherwise. They had both agreed to it.

Setting the Mizukage down upon her own desk, he attacked her neck, kissing and sucking his way down towards her collar bone, ripping the slit open to expose the porcelain skin of her lower half. Loving her mewls and moans wafting over his ear, he felt his blood boil with lust. His hands squeezed over her voluptuous endowments, fingers gripping the laces that were sewn tightly, but barely keeping her inside the dress, and ripping them open. This woman must be his. There was no question about it as he forced her legs open with his tight grip, kissing his way down between her now exposed breasts.

"So much for this dress... it was my favorite, too” she pouted.

“I'd get you another one, but I prefer you naked.”

“Really, Hatake, you ruin everything" she teased between sighs and hums of approval.

"Sign the papers" he countered, taking a pert nipple between his lips, staring into her eyes, awaiting her answer.

"I told you… that can wai-ahh!"

Grabbing her by the waist and flipping the frustrating woman over, Kakashi pressed his pelvis flush against her, holding her down against the desk. Withdrawing the folded papers from his inner vest pocket, the unyielding man leaned down over her back, slamming the document down onto the desk in front of her.

"Sign it, please” he begged, his voice straining behind his teeth.

"Why should I?"

"Because I know you want to... I won’t ask nicely again.”

"Is that a threat, Hatake-san?" her shaky voice questioned, hips impatiently pushing back against Kakashi’s prodding member.

"It’s a promise."

Leaning up, Kakashi let his hands push the dress up, exposing her bare ass as he let his hand come down harshly across one cheek with a loud slap.

"Sign it."

"You are a pushy one, aren’t you?"

With another slap across her other cheek, Kakashi dug his fingers into her flesh, urging her on.

"Ahhh!" her voice cried out at the stinging sensation filling her hind quarters.

"Sign it. Now.”

"But I seemed to have lost my pen…"

Another resounding smack filled the dimly lit room as he spanked her once again, his tingling hand removing a pen from his pocket, placing it on top of the papers in question.

"Sign it. Or I will tease you within an inch of your sanity. Do not test me."

Noting her stillness, Kakashi shook his head in disbelief. So this is how she wanted to play? Allowing a finger to slide down the cleft of her ass, he followed the curve down and around until he reached the sensitive bundle of nerves he was searching for. Lightly grazing the moistened bud between her legs, the weight of his torso pinned her flat against the desk, keeping her jolting body still amid his torture.

"Tsk, tsk. Not so fast. Sign the papers, and this can continue" he cooed, giving his fingers a flick across the swollen bud.

"Mmm...” she whimpered, unable to speak at the moment.

Judging by the lack of vocalization, Kakashi knew he was getting somewhere. Continuing his efforts, he let his finger slip between the slick folds at the apex of her thighs, his diligent digit sliding deep inside her warm cavern, urging her to follow his orders.

"Do it" he growled, his voice low and from the depths of his throat as he tried to coerce her through his ministrations.

Sighing as he removed his hand, he added another finger, before slowly reentering her again, pausing just as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Sign. The. Fucking. Papers."

"No! Don’t stop..."

Withdrawing his slippery fingers, smirking at the juice that dripped from each fingertip, Kakashi placed them into her mouth, not interested in hearing anything she had to say until her signature graced those pages.

With his free hand, the Hatake freed his own erection from its confines, nudging the head against her flooded entrance, making sure to never let it slip inside as he prodded against her, awaiting the delicious pressure that would engulf him.

"Sign it, and I’ll give you what you really want.”

"Ugh, you dare tease me?!" she yelled around his fingers.

"Who’s teasing? I told you what you have to do. Now do it."

"Fine!" she cried, licking his fingers clean like some sort of starving animal.

Grabbing the pen and signing her name across the blank, she huffed impatiently, "There! You happy now?!"

Smiling victoriously as the happiest man on earth, Kakashi kissed her neck, nudging her once again.

"Why yes I am, Hatake Mei-sama.”

With one swift thrust of his hips, Kakashi entered her fully, buried to the hilt in this woman… his woman. She was officially his now. They now belonged to each other, and only each other. Initially, she had joked about taking his name. But now that she was screaming it, he thought it very befitting.  

Their lewd noises filled the Kage’s private office quarters as Mei gripped onto the desk below her. With every roll of his hips, she felt her body shiver at the sensation of being filled so fully by this man. He was driving her crazy, and she was enjoying every minute of it.

Her panting breath and guttural moans divulged her true state of mind as she felt completely enraptured by the relentless man behind her. She loved that this was what she could now enjoy whenever she desired. Kakashi was not only a generous person, but also a generous lover. He made sure all her needs were met, and knew exactly what buttons she liked pushed.

Every time their bodies connected, the spark between them grew. They soon found themselves thirsting for the other in their absence. Seeing how they currently lived in separate villages in separate countries, their thirst developed into a violent need. It overpowered their senses and could cloud their judgment. As a leader and an elite shinobi, this was not a great side effect of their relationship, but soon that would all change.

Just as he claimed her on paper, he claimed her now. With a few last thrusts, Kakashi emptied his seed deep inside the woman he loved, collapsing on top of her. They felt their bodies melt after their simultaneous release, the exhaustion of orgasm had torn through them, leaving them both drained and sated.

As his vision returned to normal, Kakashi planted kisses along Mei's shoulder, his hands reaching under her, taking a breast in each palm. Kissing his way up to her neck, he smiled against the soft alabaster skin, loving the way her body was still twitching from their exhaustive efforts.

With her breath returning to her, Mei chuckled darkly as she licked the corners of her dry lips. “Well, that was certainly worth the wait.”

“Yes, it sure was” he agreed, wincing as he slipped out of her slowly.

“Aw, is play time over already?” she pouted, shivering at the loss of his body heat, the cool air hitting her exposed backside.

“For now, but I'm not done with you yet” he promised with a devious grin, “Tonight, My Dear, we celebrate.”

After zipping his pants, Kakashi extended a gentlemanly hand, helping Mei stand up from the desk. He chuckled as the rags of her dress fell down around her waist, leaving her chest exposed. The slit was ripped as well, leaving nothing to the imagination, but she was quite the sultry vision in her tattered cerulean silk.

Pursing her lips, the Kage planted both hands on her waist, looking down at her sad excuse of a gown, “What a mess you've made of me.”

Swiping the auburn bangs out of her face, Kakashi leaned forward, kissing her in apology, “You look beautiful.”

“I better, you're stuck with me now.”

“Gladly” he added, lifting her chin and claiming another kiss.

“I hate that you have to go now. When will I see you again, Dear?”

“Anytime you want” he quipped candidly.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Definitely.”

“How so?”

“I've got a little surprise for you.”

Collecting the signed papers from the desk, Kakashi put them in his pocket for safe keeping. Enjoying the confused look on his partner's face, he then retrieved the scroll from his pouch, laying it out across the desk for her to see. Upon the scroll was an intricately woven spiral seal, consisting of braided strands of characters and symbols, with a tied knot of sorts in the center.

“What am I looking at here, Kakashi?”

“It's a special contract I made for us.”

“Contract? But this looks more like a seal.”

“It's a summons. We'll soon be able to summon each other whenever we want. No more waiting. As my wife, whenever you need me, I'll be there.”

“How?” she questioned through a small grin forming on her lips.

“First, like any summons contract, we'll need to supply a blood sample and fingerprints to the center. Be sure to use your left hand for the prints, that will be part of the second step.”

Both bit their thumb, as they dripped blood over the knot in the center of the seal. Just beneath, they stamped their left hand prints, effectively signing the contract and sealing their bond for life.

“Now what?”

“Now, for step two” Kakashi smirked.

Centering himself in front of the scroll, Kakashi went through the tedious chain of never ending hand seals the contract required. With all the precision of a proficient fuinjutsu user, Kakashi made such a feat look relatively simple. After he made the last seal, he grabbed Mei's left hand, extending both of their hands over the contract.

“This may sting a little” he warned, “But it'll be worth it.”

Right before their eyes, small bands of the black characters appeared upon their left ring fingers. Slowly, but surely, the braided pattern of symbols was burned into their flesh. The sizzle of their skin was minimal, and even though it was more than a little sting, it wasn't any more than either of these seasoned shinobi could handle. After the burning stopped, the seals around their fingers glowed red, before fading to black.

It was done.

“Now,” Kakashi began, kissing the seal on her finger, “We can see each other whenever we please.”

“So, no more waiting?”

“Nope... and no more getting picked on by your body guards, either.”

“Now that, I can not help. You really do rub Ao the wrong way, Kakashi-kun” Mei laughed, kissing him generously.

“I guess the man was just doing his job and didn't know any better. I can appreciate that. Are you ever going to tell them who I am to you now, Dear?”

“Well,” she sighed sarcastically, “I guess you leave me no choice.”

They held each other closely, admiring the new tattoos on their finger. It symbolized their union, and neither of them cared if anyone knew about it now. As shinobi, they knew all too well the target that would be placed on the back of the one you loved most, but they were both more than capable of handling their own. No one dare stood a chance if they were to come between them and their bond now. It was written in blood, and could not be broken.

Their celebratory evening had indeed been fun and full of surprises, but as dawn broke, it was time to say goodbye. Mei tried to hold up the pieces of her torn dress as they walked shoulder to shoulder down the hall of her living quarters towards the open window at the end. Kakashi jumped up on the window sill, turning around to claim one last kiss before he began his journey home.

They were both exhausted, haggard in appearance, and in desperate need of sleep... but it was worth it. Blowing him a kiss, Mei watched in awe as Kakashi swiftly departed, missing the calls of her guards as they ran down the hall to her side, her appearance having caused them to worry.

“M-Mizukage-sama... are you o-okay?” Chojuro stammered, wielding his sword, ready to strike.

“Mei-sama, what did that bastard do to you? I'll kill him!” Ao blurted in a blind rage.

“No need, boys” Mei grinned, “That bastard is my husband.”

Laughing aloud, Mei slipped behind her bedroom doors, leaving her guards frozen in shock out in the hallway. They would definitely need a few minutes to process her last words judging by their dropped jaws and twitching eyes. She had other plans in mind though. She slipped out of the remains of her dress, discarding it on the floor and laid across her bed.

Lifting her hand, she admired the new tattoo once more, loving the mark they had left upon each other. She was missing him already, and this would not do. She was a newlywed after all, and as such, should be celebrating.

Biting her thumb, smearing the bead of blood across the black band upon her finger, she uttered the magic words. In a poof of smoke, Kakashi appeared before her, grinning beneath that ever present mask of his.

“Honey, I'm home!”  

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Undefined Desires

Summary: Woven Beauty. In a shabby motel in a shadowy part of town, Weaver and Belle give in to their primal nature.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling September smut prompt: Neon lights, bar, handcuffs, reflection, silhouette.

Note: Bondage, Femdom.

Rated: E

Undefined Desires

Weaver watches Belle’s silhouette through the light curtain that separates the bathroom from the bedroom. It’s a cheap place in the middle of the seediest part of town, but it suits their needs: somewhere to come in the dead of night where there will be no questions asked and no one knows them in their day jobs.

They don’t do this often. For the most part, they stay professional. Partners in crime. Well, against it, rather. But a time will come when they need to give in to those dark desires that are stirred up by the darkness of the world that they live and work in. And when they need that release, they come here, and let go of the shackles of society, giving in to their primal needs.

She’s brushing her hair now. She likes to make him wait, and Weaver doesn’t mind. It makes the anticipation of seeing her all the sweeter; being able to see her halfway like this just adds to the erotic thrill of it. His cock is flush against his belly, achingly hard, desperate for a touch that he knows won’t come for a long while yet. It doesn’t stop him from shifting on the bed though, and he hears Belle’s soft laughter as the handcuffs keeping him from touching himself clink against the metal frame.

“So eager tonight, my little pet, aren’t we?”

He doesn’t reply. He wonders how he came to realise that he likes wearing the tools of his trade like this. No one would ever expect it of him, he knows that much. Belle certainly hadn’t when they first began this little arrangement of theirs. Then again, he hadn’t expected Belle to get quite such a thrill out of putting them on him. Behind her demure sweaters there’s a dominatrix in leather, and Weaver loves it.

Finally she comes out of the bathroom, her spiky heels clicking against the faded lino floor, and Weaver can only stare at her in mute appreciation as she stands at the end of the bed, trailing the tip of her riding crop over his feet and ankles. She’s all in black, long leather gloves stretching up her arms and silk hold-ups covering her legs. What’s in between is a network of straps and studs, serving to titillate and entice without displaying. As always, the little domino mask obscures her face, bright blue eyes shining through. It’s all part of the charade, helping them along in their roles and reminding him that tonight, she is not Belle. Tonight, she is Mistress, and she demands obedience.

“Safe word?” she prompts.

“Rainbow.”

Belle nods, satisfied, and she moves around the bed with measured steps, trailing the crop over his bare skin, teasing his cock and balls with the tip of it. His hips jerk, and Belle laughs again, musical but with something devilish in it.

“Are you going to be good for me tonight?” she purrs. “Remember, if you’re naughty, you’ll get a smack.” She brings the crop down hard on the mattress beside him, the air gusting over his abdomen as it cracks.

Weaver nods, flexing his wrists against the cuffs.

Belle smiles and she gets onto the bed, straddling his thighs and dropping the crop down beside him, just within easy reach for swift punishment if necessary.

It’s almost agonising, the wait for her to make her way up his body, pointedly ignoring his needy cock and planting a deep kiss on his mouth. Her teeth graze a little as she sucks on his bottom lip, and Weaver groans against her, hips jerking involuntarily.

Belle’s laugh sends shivers down his spine.

“Don’t be naughty now, pet. If you’re good, you’ll get a lovely reward.”

She sits back, hands going to the front of her outfit and unfastening some of her straps, one of her breasts springing free. She pinches her nipple, tugging on the rosy bud until it pebbles, and she strokes her other hand through Weaver’s hair, cradling the back of his head.

“Do you want a taste?”

Weaver nods. “Yes.”

The hand in his hair tightens, giving a sharp little pull, and her other goes for the crop, the butt of it tracing over his hip bone. “What do you say, my pet?”

“Yes, please, mistress.”

“Very good.”

Belle offers him her breast, letting him lick and suck at her nipple. The scent of her is heady and musky, perfume and arousal mingling in his nose. It’s enough to drive him mad, and matters aren’t helped when Belle uncovers her other breast, getting him to repeat his ministrations. He would give anything to touch her right now, but he knows that she will make the long wait worth his while.

There’s something paradoxically freeing in this act, in giving up all that control that he exerts all the time in his everyday life. It feels so good to have someone else make the decisions and call the shots.

“You’re doing very well tonight,” Belle gasps, and he can tell from her quickening breath and the brightness in her eyes, visible even in the flickering neon lights that force themselves through the blinds, that she’s enjoying their encounter just as much as he is. “Would you like a taste of something else?”

“Oh, yes.” The crop smacks against his thigh, the sudden pain smarting and making him cry out. “Yes, please, mistress.”

“That’s better. You were doing so well. Don’t go and spoil it, now.”

She sits back from him again, unfastening her remaining straps and buckles with a meticulous precision, slowly presenting him with her smooth pink sex. She lets him look his fill for a while, a smirk playing over her mouth as she pushes her hips forward; Weaver’s well aware of how he’s straining forwards against his bonds.

“Oh, all in good time, my pet.” She moves closer on the bed, rising on her knees until she’s right over him, her sweet cleft level with his mouth, and she presses herself against his face, hands coming back to card into his hair as he begins to lick at her folds, tongue seeking out her clit. It’s difficult with only his mouth; he desperately wants to be able to touch her, to push his fingers up inside her heavenly soft heat. Even so, the taste of her never disappoints, and from the little noises she’s making, he’s not disappointing her, either.

Belle knows how to get what she wants from him; although this isn’t a regular encounter for them, they’ve done it often enough that they know their way around each other. He knows the right touches of the tip of his tongue against her clit that will bring her right to the edge, swirling around the little bud as her hips push forward against him, her hands guiding his mouth to where she needs and wants him. He can’t move too much in her hold, but he still has a little freedom, and he laps down lower, pressing his tongue into her entrance as his nose nudges her cleft. Belle moans above him, throwing her head back.

“Oh, you’re doing so well, pet.” Her voice is soft and crooning, like honey in his ears. He always loves to hear her praise. “You’re so good at this. So talented. Just a little more. You can do it. I’m so close, pet. So close.”

With just a little momentary guidance from her fingers, he finds her clit again, lapping at her roughly until he hears her scream with pleasure, and her knees eventually give out. For a long time she just sits astride him, braced against his chest as she comes back to herself from the heights of her orgasm.

Then she smiles, and readjusts her mask over her face, and Mistress is back in control.

“You’ve been so good, pet,” she says, and she crawls back down his body, pressing kisses over his quivering chest and tummy. His cock is rock hard and flushed dark with blood, precum leaking steadily from the tip. Whatever she does now, even if she does absolutely nothing, it’s not going to take very long at all for him to come apart completely.

“You’ve been so good for me tonight, and I think you deserve a treat.”

Her scarlet lips close around the head of his cock, swirling her tongue around to lap up the pearly fluid there. Then she lets him go, blowing cool breath over his wet, over-sensitised skin and wresting a noise not unlike a sob of frustration from him.

“Just remember to say please, my pet.”

“Please!” Weaver gasps. “Oh God, please!”

She chuckles, taking him in her mouth again, tongue dancing over his tip as her hands cup his balls and stroke up and down his shaft. There is no place on earth, or indeed in heaven, that he would rather be right now, even if his wrists are starting to ache from fighting against the cuffs. Belle’s mouth is ecstasy, and when the tightly coiled spring in the pit of his stomach finally snaps and he comes, she swallows him down without spilling a drop, milking every last morsel of pleasure from him.

He never realises just how much he needs the release until it happens, and the tension he’s been carrying within him begins to ebb away.

As he gets his breath back, he becomes aware that their playtime together is drawing to its close. Belle grabs the handcuff keys and releases him, pressing little kisses to his wrists and palms as he brings them down from the bed frame and flexes them.

There are no words as they lie on the bed together in the cooling. There never are. They don’t need to speak, and Weaver doesn’t know what he would say anyway. Thank you? It seems too cold, makes it too much like a business transaction, although he doesn’t really know what it is if it isn’t one.

They’re not really lovers in the true sense of the word; they don’t sleep together outside of this one circumstance, but at the same time, there’s such ease and familiarity between them that it’s more than just a friends-with-benefits arrangement. They’re more than just partners and colleagues, and more than just a dominant and submissive. He can’t quite define their relationship, and for the moment, he has no desire to know how Belle herself defines it. Somehow, he feels that putting a name to it will ruin it, although he doesn’t know why. Defining it will give it rules and structure, and it will stifle this wonderful thing.

For now, he’s content to let the relationship run its course as it’s doing now. Perhaps, in the future, something more will come from it, but at the moment, they can sate their mutual need for pleasure, and control, and the willing loss of it, together, and let that be that.

[eskalations]

The First Lady didn't mention that the man looked even more distinguished now that he had started collecting a few signs of age around his temples and his ears. She figured it was better left unsaid, since the proof of her current attraction to her husband was blatantly staring them in the face in the form of her swelling belly.

A series of oneshots documenting the life and times of the Amestrian First Family.

A/N: Sorry it took so long, but here's another chapter! This one was probably the hardest to write, but it's kind of necessary to the context of the story. I'm thinking the birth scene will be next, so place your bets on the baby's gender (although I already know what it's going to be, it's still fun to see some guesses!).

Thanks for reading!

~

Riza was well into her seventh month of pregnancy when things began looking up for her little family.

Elizabeth was now having an easier time in school. Unfortunately, after many weeks of tears and faked illnesses, Roy and Riza had made the decision to switch Elizabeth out of her original homeroom "class" in favor of one with a new teacher. They had hated to do it, since she had already made friends, but it seemed the preferable option over all the tears they had been experiencing as the month continued on.

Luckily, the "class" Elizabeth had been switched into was on a similar schedule to the one she had been in before. At playtime, all the kids got to convene in one area, so the young girl was able to see the friends she had made during her first month. Not only that, but she had made many new friends as time went on and as her personality began to shine through under a teacher who held no bias towards her.

Not only were things going well for Elizabeth, but for Roy as well. His talks with Aerugo had been successful and a trade route had been secured after many grueling meetings between the Fuhrer and the Head of State for the Aerugian government. Grumman had also had a hand in the conversations, but since the Fuhrer had taken on the responsibility of foreign policy, the project had mostly been headed by Roy.

Once the Aerugian trade route was confirmed, the Fuhrer had immediately begun to reach out to Xing to secure yet another trade route across the desert and into the neighboring country. This route would go straight through the desert and specifically cater to the north of the country – which was one of its poorer regions. Roy had long ago discovered that his mother had hailed from the northern region of Xing and had made it his personal mission to try and help the community of poorer citizens that were housed up there.

With the Xing talks now moving forward, Roy and Riza had the pleasure of housing one Amestrian- born, Xingese Ambassador in their home.

Alphonse Elric had arrived three days prior to attend the initial meetings in regards to the trade talks. At this stage of the project, only he and a few other ambassadors were required for the task of drawing up the documentation. In one month's time, the goal was to have everything ready for Emperor Ling Yao to sign upon his bi-yearly trip to Central.

Having married Princess May Chang, Alphonse now stood as one of the Emperor's most trusted advisors. The young man, who was not so young anymore, had been named the Amestrian-Xing Ambassador and had been appointed as an advisor to the Emperor. Since his wife was usually needed in her home country – due to her role as head of the Alkahestry Research Program – the blonde usually traveled to Amestris on his own.

Though he never allowed the separation to affect his good humor, Riza could tell from the dark circles under his eyes, that he was missing his home and his family dearly. The only good thing that came out of his trips to Central, were the "mandatory" visits he made to Resembool on his way back home.

Because the Mustangs knew that these trips were hard on Al, they always allowed him to stay in their home – something he was eternally grateful for. The honest man had shared with Riza once that just getting to interact with Elizabeth, who was the same age as Al's only daughter, made the distance a little more bearable.

That was why – as Riza prepared dinner for her small family and guest – Al preferred to spend his time with Elizabeth rather than sit in the kitchen with her and Roy. Neither felt slighted in the least though as they heard Elizabeth's sweet laughter echo through the door from the backyard.

Roy smiled at the sound, glancing sideways at Riza as he chopped the onions for stew. "He's certainly good with her."

"He always is," Riza answered, stirring the pot on top of the stove. She turned the knob to set the stew at a simmer before leaning against the counter. "It shouldn't surprise you. He has a daughter himself now. He's not a child anymore."

Roy groaned, using the knife to slide the onion bits to the side. "Don't remind me. I feel old enough already. It still blows my mind that Ed and Al have children."

"Ed has children that are older than ours, Roy."

The Fuhrer gave her a look, much less threatening in his shirt sleeves and casual pants than he usually was in his military blues. "Why do you have to bring that up too? I think you just gave me a few more grey hairs."

Riza chuckled at that, rubbing a hand across her stomach, the callouses of her fingers pulling on the fabric of her apron. "Once this one comes along, I'm sure you'll have more than a few to worry about."

The First Lady didn't mention that the man looked even more distinguished now that he had started collecting a few signs of age around his temples and his ears. She figured it was better left unsaid, since the proof of her current attraction to her husband was blatantly staring them in the face in the form of her swelling belly.

Roy raised his brows at the mention of the baby, but continued to work on the task at hand. "If this one is anything like Elizabeth, we'll be fine."

"Just because you said that, this one is going to be as wild as Edward Elric."

The man gave her a glare. "Don't jinx it."

At the sight of her husband's displeasure, Riza had to laugh. "There are much worse people in this world that our child could take after."

Roy was about to fire back with a witty retort, when his wife's slight intake of breath had him pausing in his actions. Riza now had her eyes squeezed shut and was rubbing an area just below her ribs.

"What's wrong?" He asked, putting down the knife and joining her by the sink. The woman waved him off dismissively, continuing to rub across the skin of her stomach.

"The baby has been active today." She finally voiced, breathing slowly as the sharp pain subsided. Sometimes it felt as though her child was playing the piano with the inside of her ribs. "I think he's mad that we're talking about him and he wanted some input."

Roy, ever worried for her well-being, didn't comment immediately. Instead he took her hand and led her to the small breakfast table that sat near the open door of the backyard. Once she was seated – though she protested that this was ridiculous and she was absolutely fine standing on her own two feet – Roy realized what she had just said.

"He?" The man asked, allowing his hand to join her's. As though the baby knew that they were being talked about, a small foot – or arm – collided with the skin of his palm. "So now you're thinking it's a boy?"

"I don't know." Riza answered honestly, her fingers intertwining with Roy's over the fabric of her apron. "I'm not sure this time around. I thought Elizabeth was a boy and then she ended up being a girl. I'm going to be happy either way, as long as they're healthy."

Roy smiled at her words. "You and I can agree on that."

The room was quiet for a few moments, the only sound in the air between them being that of the stew bubbling on the stove and the airy laughter of Elizabeth and Alphonse wafting through the door. Roy cleared his throat, hating to break the silence, but knowing it was about time that they spoke about what they had both been avoiding.

"I think it's about time you started your bed rest."

Riza sighed, slouching in her wooden chair. Roy could tell by the way she puffed air up towards her bangs that she was annoyed by his statement. He mentally prepared himself for a battle of wills as she mulled over his words.

However, she surprised him.

"I know."

Roy's heart stopped.

Had she just agreed with him? Without a fight, too?

Riza almost laughed at the shock written across his features, his dark eyes wide with surprise.

"This pregnancy is a little different than my first." Riza reached a hand out to smooth back his hair, the strands having fallen over his forehead after a long day at work and time spent over a pot full of stew. "The doctor already mentioned that she would prefer I start my bed rest early this time around. I'm planning on finishing out the week before I start working from home."

Roy continued to stare at her with his mouth opened wide. Finally, once he was able to find the words, he closed it tight before giving her a withering look. "You really had to make me say it before you were going to tell me?"

"I was planning on telling you after dinner." Riza insisted, while loosening the ties of her apron at the middle of her back. Roy walked around her chair to assist her. "It's not my fault that you chose to say it now."

"Sure," Roy said, doubtfully. He swept her long, blonde hair to the side and lifted the apron over her head. "You know that also means you won't get to pick Elizabeth up from school anymore."

Riza pouted at that. The Fuhrer was not used to seeing this more petulant side of his wife – however, she had showcased it more during the time of her pregnancy. "I don't think that's necessary."

"Bed rest is bed rest," Roy insisted, walking over to the hooks on the wall and depositing his wife's apron on to the middle wrung – right next to the little brown jacket that Elizabeth always seemed to favor. Turning back to Riza, he was not surprised to see the look of willful determination on her face. "Riza, you know as well as I do that, at this stage in your pregnancy, you need to be taking it easy. They already consider you high risk, let's not make this any more dangerous than it has to be."

"I know," Riza insisted, sinking back into her chair once more. Seated before him, in a floral print maternity dress, she looked the absolute picture of maternal perfection. The only thing that marred the scene was the scowl that was currently painted across her features. "You don't have to tell me, Roy. I just don't think it's necessary to bar me from everything."

"We'll figure something out." The man reasoned, hearing the defense in his wife's tone. He was certainly in no mood to argue with her. "Let's just get through this week – anyways, how's the planning for the secondary school in the Nosh district going?"

Roy knew she had been working hard on her next phase of plans for the poorer district of Central, so Riza readily took the bait and began to speak of the headway they had made in the construction of the school.

While Roy stirred the pot on the stove, adding the onions to the mixture, he listened as Riza described the employment process they had recently begun.

She was in the middle of telling him about the interview she had hosted earlier on in the day, when a small cry was heard from outside with the comforting tone of Alphonse following soon after. Both Roy and Riza recognized Elizabeth's strangled cry and we're about to head out the door when Alphonse and Elizabeth made their way into the kitchen.

Alphonse hadn't changed much over the years, despite his more obvious signs of aging. His hair was still a golden blonde, with eyes of much the same color. The only major difference now on his face, were the faint lines that signaled the passage of time and the gaining of wisdom. Even his wardrobe hadn't changed much, besides the addition of Xingese garb that he chose to wear whenever attending formal events.

Today, in the familiar company of the Mustangs, he had chosen to wear his classic brown sweater vest and shirt sleeves – with the arms rolled up to the elbows and dirt sprinkled across the otherwise pristine fabric. Riza knew those stains had to be the product of her frazzled daughter, who followed behind him in her white dress, covered in mud.

Before Riza could scold Elizabeth for getting her nice clothes dirty, she noticed that Alphonse was holding something small in the palms of his hands. From her spot across the table, she couldn't see what it was, but Elizabeth was quick to dampen their suspense.

"Daddy! Daddy!" She shouted frantically, running up to the man and tugging on his shirt, muddy hands leaving trails of dirt on the front of the starched cloth. "We need paint! We need paint!"

"It doesn't need to be paint, Elizabeth." Alphonse said gently, as he crouched down to the ground and set the small bundle on the floor. "I just need something to draw with. I don't think my chalk will work on tile."

Riza, seated once more, leaned forward in her chair to see what Al had brought into the kitchen.

Laying on floor was a small dove – slightly gray in color with a beak as dark as night. The creature looked to still be alive, despite its prone state on the ground – however, one of its wings seemed to be slightly bent at an unnatural angle. Riza suddenly realized why Elizabeth was so frantic and why Al was going to need something to draw with. He was going to perform Alkahestry on it.

"I found it in the garden." Elizabeth spoke hurriedly, as Roy opened several drawers to try and find something that Al could use. She followed her father around the kitchen like a shadow, tugging at his pant leg while sharing her story. Her big dark eyes filled with tears and her voice began to shake. "Uncle Al said he could save it with his Alkahestry, but we need – we need – something to write with."

The poor girl was almost out of breath by the end of her tale, her bottom lip wobbling as she gave her father's pant leg another desperate tug. "Hurry, Daddy!"

"Lizzie," Roy tried to placate her as he opened the cabinets where they kept their sauces and pulled out a jar. He placed one hand on the top of her head as he passed the jar over to Al where he sat on the floor. "You need to calm down. The bird's going to be okay."

"Everything's going to be fine." Al reassured her from his spot crouched over the bird. He stuck his finger into the sauce and began to draw a purification circle beside it. "The only thing that's not going to be fine is this sauce."

At the apologetic glance the man sent her, Riza had to laugh. "It's fine, Alphonse. I don't like garlic sauce anyways."

Elizabeth watched as Al drew the circle, careful to get the lines right. The sauce wasn't as thick as paint would have been, so it took some extra effort to get the symbol just right. Elizabeth slipped out from under her father's palm and crouched down beside her self-proclaimed honorary "uncle".

Having heard from Roy himself that Elizabeth was taking an interest in Alkahestry, Al smiled up at her as she watched his actions. "You've seen people perform Alkahestry before, right?"

Elizabeth nodded her head vigorously, her eyes never straying from the movement of his hands. "Uh huh – they used it on mommy."

Al completed the circle, drawing out a bit more sauce to color in some of the lighter portions of it. "They use it in hospitals now to help heal. Your Aunt May was one of the people that helped pioneer it."

"Aunt May?" Elizabeth asked, her head tilting to the side as she regarded her blonde companion. "Is she your wife?"

"Yep!" Al responded cheerfully, wiping his hands on the towel Riza passed him. After his hands were clean, he gently picked up the bird and placed it in the center of the circle. "She's the one who taught me about Alkahestry."

A pensive look took over Elizabeth's features as she watched the man inhale deep, before clapping his hands. On the floor before them, a blue glow radiated from the sauce and a jolt ran through the body of the dove. Within seconds, the glow was gone, and the bird's wing was back to proper form.

Al gestured for Riza to open the window that lay behind her chair. Once the window was open, the man picked up the small creature and carried it over to the branches that sat outside the window. Gratefully, the bird jumped from his palm and into the tree, it's past injury forgotten as it took flight to find the rest of its family.

The whole process caused smiles to break out on both Roy and Riza's features. Alphonse had always been a gentle soul, even when he had been nothing more than a soul bound to armor. With his hands on his hips and a smile on his face, he stared out the window and watched as the bird took off, admiring his handy work. He truly was a saint.

"Aunt May's the one that saved my mommy, right?"

The adults in the room turned back towards Elizabeth. She hadn't moved from her spot next to the now slightly broken purification circle. She had her legs drawn under her and was running her finger along the outside of the symbol, trying to commit it to memory. Her voice had taken on a far-off quality, as though she were trying to remember the story her mother had told her during her time in the hospital.

Al glanced at Riza, his eyes asking if it was okay for him to proceed. The woman nodded, rubbing circles over her belly as the baby kicked from within her. Apparently, all the excitement had gotten them riled up once more. Roy went to stand behind his wife, also sending Alphonse an encouraging look as he placed his hands on her shoulders.

"That's right." Al gave the young girl a gentle smile as he crouched beside her once more. He watched as she continued to follow the lines of the circle with her eyes, the wheels in her head visibly turning. The sight had Al grinning widely. "Aunt May healed your Mommy's neck when the bad guys got her."

Elizabeth nodded, remembering the jagged, white scar that lay on the skin of her mother's neck. When she had been in the hospital, her mother had pointed it out to her. Instead of focusing on the injury that had produced the scar, Riza had chosen to share the story of who had healed it, given her daughter's sudden interest in Alkahestry.

"Princess May Chang used Alkahestry to save me." She had said quietly, running a finger over the line that marred the skin of her neck. Sat on the hospital bed beside her, Elizabeth had mimicked her mother's actions. "If it hadn't been for her, I would have never had the chance to meet you."

"Wow," Elizabeth sighed, scratching at the now dried sauce on the tile. Riza cringed as she watched the gunk get stuck under her daughter's fingernails. "Aunt May is awesome."

"She sure is." Al agreed – a soft smile appearing on his features. Roy and Riza couldn't help but notice the slight pain in the deep topaz coloring of his eyes. They could see he was missing his wife, dearly. "Maybe one day she'll be able to teach you like she did me."

Elizabeth's eyes lit up, her gaze drifting back to her parents.

Riza fought back the sigh that attempted to escape her lips. Roy simply turned to the pot on the stove, turning off the burner and readying it for serving on the counter.

Neither of them had decided whether they were going to allow their daughter to study any form of alchemy yet. They were happy she had found an interest in Alkahesty – however, allowing her to practice it was still something they were not completely sold on. They wanted her to be happy – however, knowing the way people in her family tended to become obsessed with different forms of alchemy, they were more than a little hesitant to fully resign themselves to that future yet.

But, like Riza had to keep reminding herself, it was completely possible her daughter would grow out of this interest, just as she had with puzzles by the time she reached four. Her and Roy had never thought they would be able to get their daughter to stop obsessing over puzzles, but that too had passed.

Shaking her head, Riza chose to live in the moment.

Dinner was an upbeat affair – as it always was with Alphonse sitting at their table. As the sun sunk below the horizon, Elizabeth spoke of her day and told her "uncle" all about the new friends she had made at school. In return, Al had told her more about her Aunt May and the projects she was working on back in Xing. According to him, the woman was trying to open a few more hospitals to service the poorer districts in the capitol city.

Elizabeth kept repeating how she wanted to get to meet her Aunt May, which Al had to laugh at, since the young girl had met his wife only two years prior, when she had been much too young to remember. Al promised that the next time he came to Central, he would try and convince his wife to tag along and bring his daughter, Lily, along with her too. This had Elizabeth squealing in absolute delight.

Eventually, Elizabeth was sent to wash up and the adults were left in the kitchen. Al volunteered to help Roy with the dishes, since both men seemed to be keen on the idea of keeping Riza in her seat. With her ankles as swollen as they were, the woman couldn't find it in herself to argue.

Roy gave her a look over his shoulder as he and Al worked in tandem to wash and dry the dishes. She smiled in response, not even needing to hear his question, in order to know what he wanted to ask.

"Hey Alphonse?"

"Yes?"

"Riza and I were wondering…."

~

Once Elizabeth had been put to sleep and it was time to turn down for the night, the Fuhrer and his wife made their way to the master bedroom. Elizabeth had required two stories that night instead of her usual one and this time, she insisted on hearing the story of how her "Aunt May" had saved her mommy again. Roy had to become quite creative with the details to keep it all from scaring her, but he thought he had done a pretty good job of it by the end.

After showers were had and robes donned, Roy and Riza found themselves laid out on their bed, with the single lamp in the room still shining brightly as they readied themselves for bed. Just as they had been doing for a month now, the two adults took this time to speak privately with each other, and spend time admiring the movements of their still unborn child.

It was while Roy had his head laid in Riza's lap, his ear pressed up against the swollen curve of her belly, that he finally voiced what he had been thinking about for the past few hours.

"I'm surprised Alphonse was okay with our decision."

Riza ran a hand through Roy's dark hair, her fingers scratching lightly at his scalp. At the sensation, the man couldn't help but release a sigh, his warm breath sinking into the fabric of her light robe. They remained quiet for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts.

"I'm not."

"Really?"

"Yes." Riza leaned back against the headboard, her hand moving to rub a spot under her ribs. Now that she was sitting, the baby had decided to become more active. "In Xing, it's a sign of respect. It doesn't surprise me that he would see it as such and I believe May will see it the same way."

"What if later on they want to use it though…"

"I don't think Al could ever convince May to let him do that." Riza laughed quietly, aware that their daughter was sleeping down the hall. "I think within their own family it would be a bit more complicated to do something like this."

Roy shrugged his shoulders slightly, the action rubbing against the bone of her pelvis. "I guess you're right. We should still call her and ask."

"I will. However, I'm pretty I know what her answer will be."

Roy sunk deeper into her lap, pushing his ear against the skin of her belly. As if sensing their father's presence, the baby kicked at the spot. Riza couldn't fight her own smile as she watched Roy's eyes light up with glee. It was like falling in love with him all over again when they went through times like these. She had felt the same way during her pregnancy with Elizabeth.

"You know." Riza reminded him, gently stroking his hair once more. "May isn't the only person we need to talk to."

Roy nodded, the movement causing the stubble of his cheek to catch on the fabric of her nightgown. "I know. We'll talk to her about it, as well."

"I think he would be honored."

Roy smiled at that, closing his eyes as he listened to the quiet movements of their child.

"I think so too."

[quackson-man]

Babysitter | Part 1

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: You weren’t expecting Steve to be THE babysitter

Warnings: Grammatical errors (sorry), bad writing too

Word count: 1,855

Theme: Fluff, Angst

A/N:  Okay guys so this is my first time writing a fic. not that its the first but it would be the first time i’m posting one so hit me up and let me know what you think of it. Honestly i’ll be open with criticisms because English is not my first language. :))

i couldn’t wait any longer for prologue to reach a hundred notes so yeah 

as promised, here's another one

Babysitter Series - | Prologue | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

MASTERLIST can be found here 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve Harrington.

He was this fat kid who you used to make fun of because he's fat. You would always tease him for being shorter than you. Well who is he to blame? The kid was well fed by your mother whenever he was in your house.

He too would retaliate in the most loving way he know how. His friendly nature didn't help him either get into your nerves. You would actually find it funny that he doesn’t know how to be mischievous because he was so sweet. Not that you were asking but you find it cute.

He would always try to shame you for how straight and silky your locks are that its making you look more pretty. How your eyes were weird because your pupils were the lightest he have ever seen his entire life. Basically he was calling you out for being so beautiful which made your heart melt considering how pure and innocent he once was. 

In school, Steve was jolly. His signature of a laugh and smile radiated a welcoming warm aura to his classmates. He had so many friends because of his personality. Kids would always invite him to play with them in the playground. He would also befriend other kids who has no one to talk to. No one goes unwelcome under his watch. 

That made him a crowd favorite among other students. He would get these silly awards for being too friendly and kind that hang high in the school’s bulletin board. 

But moments like these was short-lived. His intelligence and rankings soared high. He practically aced all his tests with flying colors which made him accelerate and skip to another grade and graduate earlier than you. Your school was only middle so he had to transfer to Hawkins High.

It made you sad of course, you thought that he was going away for a long time (even though Hawkins Middle and High just sat next to each other). But that didn’t justify the end of your puppy love towards him. Steve promised he would always drop by to hang with you, which he never failed to live up to.

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

Your ass still in pain after that fall. “Mom are you fucking serious?”. You stood up with your palm on both cheeks. Mixed reactions flowing through your face. You didn’t know if it was pure happiness, raging anger or what. But you couldn’t care less. 

“Okay first, language, second, yes why? I mean I kinda miss the boy though and I haven’t seen him in ages! third, I won’t call in random people who we don’t know, at least Steve is a someone” She replied. 

“...Steve is a someone”. That ranged a bell. Steve was not just someone. He was THE one. 

“But mom that would be super awkward! considering that we also too haven’t talked in ages!” you sassed. “See?! now is a good time to reconcile and catch up, I’m sure you miss Steve too!” You followed your mom to as she moves her way to the other side of the kitchen to place the plates she has in her hands. 

“Uh, Uh I ain’t missing him” you lied as you felt pain pinch your heart. Lump forming in your throat. You hardly noticed and kept the thought at the back of your mind while you talk to your mom. 

“I’ve carried you inside me for 9 months how naive do you think I am?” she retorted. “You wouldn’t act like that if you do” she added. “Besides, its just for a short time” 

“Yeah how long?” you sarcastically replied. “Until he earns enough for his college”. That took you by surprise, so does that mean he will be here for a while?

“He will start by Monday, so breakfast is the only last thing you’re going to do. He’ll be at 5″ 

Great. Another nice morning. 

You found yourself in the bedroom again breathing heavy in your pillows with your front against the cushion of the bed. This is going to be easy right? You thought to yourself. The news of Steve working for you is too much for you to take, hell even handle. 

Thoughts of him resurfaced your brain again. You haven’t heard of the name since high school. Heck both of you weren’t even the same people as before. Of course things have changed. He changed. So you changed to. 

Part of you wants to see him. See how he was doing without you in life. See how he made his life out to be. There were so many questions forming in your mind. Questions he could only answer. You were curious but prying was not something you would do. 

Deep down it hurts you when you said that you have moved on and have completely forgotten about him. You miss Steve so much, but you have just decided to quit on your childish feelings because it was taking you nowhere. You needed to grow up and be matured enough to face the harsh reality that he does not feel the same way for you. 

Playtime’s over. 

Truth is, you didn’t quit on those feelings. You just set them aside and buried it deep beneath your mind. 

You hoped things won’t be awkward as you think it would. 

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

Monday came. Classes were a bore but you never thought that being stuck in one would help your mind to be ease. You couldn’t help yourself but get distracted. So distracted that you were staring blank at the windows of your classroom. 

Never thought that these mathematical equations could help. 

This is the day huh? Where you could see Steve again. You prayed that nothing weird happens. You promised yourself to keep your feelings at bay and maintain your professional stature around him. Personal matter shouldn’t interfere with work right? Even if you’re just working as a babysitter. 

Still surprised that after losing Steve so many years he would just come by crash-

“Ms. (Y/LN)” Mr. Mundy called you out. 

You wake up and came back to your senses. “Could you answer Problem #4 in the board” He politely asked. 

You faced the board only too see writings of equations you can’t comprehend and make sense of. But you got to admit, it helped you more to be preoccupied and get more oblivious. 

“No” you answered with honesty. “Mr. Mundy I really can’t think and function properly right now, can I drop by at the nurse’s office?” you lied.

“Okay, get a pass and make it quick” You nodded then you grabbed your things and have decided to cut class and be with yourself for a while. 

Once you got yourself out of the classroom, you begin walking the endless hallways of the school. You really didn’t have any concrete plans where you would go to. You guess that its something for your feet to decide. 

You were walking with your face down on the floor when...

 ...you’ve stumbled upon something that caught your eye. 

His name, his face. 

Steve was sporty and it was a fact. He wasn’t smart to do anything but he was dumb enough to try everything.  At first he doubted himself, but with enough support coming from you he became eager and even have asked his parents to enroll him in sport camps to become better.  Which made him excel at every sport he played. 

Standing now before you was a big brown shelf that contained all of the  memorabilia of achievements, his achievements Hawkins High ever received. 

Not that you were taking credit but you were one of the people who got him where he is right now. 

And there he was. Displaying that smile you know you loved. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Go Steve!” you shouted with the crowd. You were watching one of Steve’s basketball game. Steve was seconds away from throwing that ball to victory. Other players were keen on preventing him to score from their side of the court. 

Screams intensified. Tension was high. Pressure was on him. You grasp your hand hardly as you watch Steve play. 

05

Steve ran as fast as he could while dribbling the ball on his hand. Another player blocked him. But he was swift to throw the ball to one of his team mates. Which made the player blocking him get distracted. 

04

Steve then rallied to his team mate who was now feet away from the opponent’s basket. The poor player was surrounded but Steve came to his aid. He threw the ball back to Steve so he could be the one to throw it.

03

Catching it, Steve ran as he makes a high jump and reach for the basket to throw in the ball. 

02

The crowd gasp for air. 

01

“CONGRATULATIONS HAWKINS HIGH, YOU WILL BE COMPETING IN THE STATE TOURNAMENT” the commentator screamed through the microphone. People cheered more louder than ever. You jumped from excitement. With much adrenaline in your system you ran down to congratulate your friend. 

“Steve!” you screamed. The boy was carried by his team mates and was swaying him like a baby. “Steve!” you tried to get the attention of the boy.

Steve heard you. From all the people chanting his name, your voice stood out from the rest. But the chaotic crowd around him made it hard to look for you. Your height made it almost impossible. Steve figured that you might be outside the thick layer of sweaty bodies surrounding him. 

He chased his breath as he told his teammates to bring him down which in no second they obliged to. Steve walked the tight little spaces he could find to make it to you. He was like a thread coming inside of a needle. 

You look for an entrance within the crowd. To no avail your body can’t seem to budge it. So you just waited for him when...

You heard him yell your name. 

“(Y/N)” The exhausted boy ran to hug you. You hugged back. His hair tangling and sticking from his sweating face. What a sight. 

“(Y/N) I can’t believe we won!” He hug you tightly and carried your weight to swing you into a complete spin. 

Bringing you down he holds your shoulder and shakes you much to his delight. “Yeah me too! I’m so happy for you!” You happily cried back. 

This was the first time your boy won. After months and months of practice he actually won. You were also proud of yourself considering that you were at his side from the beginning. 

“Say, why don’t you come to my house later? My parents promised me that if I win today they would let me throw the biggest victory party ever” He asked.

“Sure! why not! let’s celebrate your win loser!” You sarcastically joked as he reached for your hair to dangle it.

Your talk was cut short when you were interrupted by his rowdy team mates. You laughed at the sight. But you couldn’t care less because you were going to see him later on. 

That’s when your fates changed. This was his best...and this was your worst

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

okay the people who liked the prologue would be my taglist for this series:

@omgdani17 @thatwrestlingfan91 @scr05 @michaels-endtime @st4rc0urt @hxrgreeves @arielebroooks @rosewinchester555 @live--aloud @rara-de-nacimiento @ilovemycat91 @crossbowitch @milkbaer @onlystylesangels @elizabeth0929 @liv-raines @reckless-memequeen @hvrcruxes @milk-n-cheese @overobsessedellie @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @sattyrs @h-oneyholland @thespian-anon @jjustpeachytbh @lokisqueen96 @spacedoutsher @alphawolfmg @bisshies @1800kaspbrak @imagesofeveryone @miiinghoee @slytherinandco @iyaksandrovna @marisaswift @nerdymcnerdster24 @iluvmesomemarvelndc @i-like-writing-stuff @trunichole15 @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @prankstermind @ok44335 @a-westie @txyyylxrsworld @coldhearts-coldhands @sippingw4terfalls @sabrinasdobrik @tangyeggos @lilypad-55449 @runningwithstolenart @danimartineza @trashyemonerd @mymanjoekeery @citlxllitl @kiara1302 @cuppycakeci @emotrash @just-ivy @court-of-stars-and-shadows @10blurredsmoke10 @corneliaurkko @stephaniejxox @idlikesomefrieswiththat @star-babe64 @milkycorpse @plumpkin222 @popperpopchyk @deepestballoonama-fandoms @lukesurferhair @eve05glee @samsam2524 @sof-pat-mat @dazedimagines @supremebesson @courteousdolan @hella-serius @ms-littleworld @gabby913 @nicolettalauren @anotherrandomrepostblog @smoochcth @deathundertacker @ibelongtolevionly @somethingtoavenge @hayhayheran @just-ivy @theyoutubedork @liv-raines @peter-b-pasta @courteousdolan 

[hey-hamlet]

I dare you to make an Au solely based of my energy,( I’m the anon who radiates frendly confusion energies) or make a short wholesome one. >:3

Your anon is the most memorable one I've ever received, so just for that, you can get a mini au. 

Preschool teacher! Inko AU

TL;DR: Inko works at a preschool for kids with crazy powerful quirks, often from important families. Basically, a solid chunk of the first years go there as little kids because plot. Izuku is the only quirkless kid most of them have ever met. 

So, first day. Izuku already knows he’s quirkless and his mum isn’t exactly upset about that because she’s seen some crazy quirks at work. Because of this she and Izuku have a different view on quirklessness, ie; without a quirk telling you what you should be, you can be anything. 

because Izuku had more self-confidence he refused to rise to Katsuki’s taunts and just, stopped hanging out with him. Katsuki was actually kinda upset and they made up, stopping his whole complex before it got too big

first day of preschool, Izuku is basically his mum’s assistant because he’s well behaved and knows how this goes. Katsuki has privately declared himself Izuku’s bodyguard, but Izuku would be mad if Katsuki thought he needed protection so he just,,, thinks it really hard. 

Endeavour comes in with Shouto and Izuku is all starry-eyed, asks for an Autograph and endeavour pushes him aside, pushing him over. At that moment Katsuki decides he hates Shouto because his dad is mean. 

Anyway, it goes better after that, even if Tenya makes Izuku cry by telling him off because he’s not lying down for naptime. Katsuki almost blows him up and Inko has to gently explain Izuku is her little helper so he takes a nap a little later. Tenya surprises everyone by bowing at the waist and apologising profusely for his misunderstanding. 

Izuku cheers up almost instantly and gives him a big hug. Everyone then decides they want an Izuku hug and because Inko likes seeing her son embarrassed, makes everyone line up to give him a hug. She's crying from cuteness.

He gives Shouto a hug and Katsuki is glaring at him, Shouto just sticks his tongue out without changing his facial expression. Katsuki shoves his face in a pillow and screams. 

By day two its just devolved into a competition for Izuku’s affection. Katsuki is going totally bonkers because he's never had any competition to be Izuku’s best friend and now there are like 20 other kids.

They all very quickly work out that, after heroes, Izukus favourite thing is quirks, so playtime turns into a big quirk show and tell time.

Ochako makes All Might flying which is very impressive, but Momo made like 20 All Mights which is also very cool. Kiri is sad about his quirk but Izuku tells him its great and Katsuki begrudgingly tells him he’d be the only one who could keep up with him in a fight. He cheers up pretty fast. 

Hitoshi uses his quirk on someone and some of the other kids get scared but Izuku immediately starts gushing about how cool and heroic it is to the point that everyone is jealous of him. 

Inko is having a Time because they aren’t hurting anyone? But they really shouldn’t be using their quirks. Eventually, she just makes a “no quirks inside” rule and they stick with that. 

Izuku somehow gets elected class president even though it's a preschool class and there are no presidents. Momo makes him a little badge and Tenya is very pleased his democratic system worked as intended. 

Anyway, so it turns out that UA needs its hero class to do some volunteer work before they graduate! Tensei heard that the preschool his little brother goes to is accepting help, so he, Kayama, Shouta and Hizashi end up helping out.

This class is, well it’s interesting 

The first bit of culture shock is that the class’ most popular kid is a quirkless crybaby. Eventually, they work out he’s so popular because he is literally the sweetest thing to walk the earth. Kayama tries to say hi to him and she gets swarmed by a pack of angry children.  

Outside of that, they are a really well-behaved class, and the UA students wonder why they were taking help. 

Until outside time rolls around. 

It’s chaos. 

Everything is on fire of covered in ice, a tiny demon seems to be picking apples out of the next door apple tree, someone keeps making? finding? these tiny All Mights that hurt like lego when you stand on them. In the centre of this all is Izuku, watching excitedly and,,, making suggestions? 

Turns out every kid wants to be a hero (unsurprising) and that Izuku is king of quirk suggestions (a little surprising) so outside time is just a horde of children running around improving their quirks as Izuku supervises (very surprising). 

Aizawa just sighs, goes up to where Izuku is sat on the little tall bit of the playground and asks him to tell him if anyone’s quirk is going out of control, where he promptly takes a nap.

[queenofnohr]

The Charming Empire - Otome Review (Soshi Amazaki Route)

I was going to hold off on doing this because 1. I wanted to play more routes to have a more comprehensive look at the game and 2. I don’t really have free time yet. Promptly ignored the above logic mostly to get this out of my system.

Before we begin, a disclaimer - While I do have pretty extensive knowledge about the otome genre in both longer “proper” VNs as well as the shorter, bite sized mobile VNs, I’m able to derive enjoyment from most anything (I feel the need to point this out because I see a lot of reviews that get hung up on stuff I can easily brush off even if I do understand where they’re coming from).

This is going to be a spoiler-free review based on Soshi Amazaki’s route alone.

Firstly, I must note that this is a mobile otome game. If you’re looking for something as long and substantial as, say, Hakuouki, Alice in the Country of Hearts, Dandelion, etc. this is probably not the game for you.

Now that that’s out of the way, I’ll be rating it based on usual points with a more... comprehensive and personal look at the end (feel free to skip to that if you know our tastes align and/or just want to see me losing my mind).

Prologue - 1/10

Normally I wouldn’t separate prologue from story. However, as this game started as a mobile game, there is no general route in which one gains points toward a love interest as is standard in full-length otome games. However, even by mobile game standards this game’s prologue fails in that it you meet exactly 0 love interests. Indeed, the prologue is the bare-bones introduction of the setting. This flaw is further complicated by the fact that, because it started as a mobile game, routes are bought individually. This means that there is no way to gauge the love interests except by the game’s straightforward summary on the buy screen. Luckily for me, I was sold at “Kenjiro Tsuda voices a love interest who is both a big brother and a lord” so this wasn’t as knee-capping as it could’ve been, but normally you’d have to simply take a leap of faith because if a love interest doesn’t actually end up being your type, you’re out of luck since you’ve already paid for the route.

This is an aside, but translation for the prologue is... questionable. It isn’t unreadable, like some translations I’ve had the misfortune of reading, but it does create some confusion regarding the MC’s family situation which I can’t help but clear up here. MC is the daughter of the previous lord whose mother moved with her out to the countryside. Her mother is died of illness, and MC now lives with an elderly couple. It’s simply when I say it here, but in game the family situation isn’t actually explained until well into the route and the narration refers to the couple as the “old man” and “old woman,” while the MC calls them “Grandpa” and “Grandma” (ojii-san, obaa-san in Japanese, which is a literal translation of what someone would call any older folk with the degree of familiarity MC has with them) while they call her “princess” (literally, hime-sama). The closeness of referring to them as grandparents vs the distance of the narrative’s “old man/woman” + calling the MC princess in a literal sense (vs. a nickname) is jarring especially because, again, they do not clearly explain the MC’s family situation.

Story - 7/10

Soshi holds the most powerful seat in all the empire. Only trusting himself, he rejects the opinions of others as he continues his dictatorship agenda -- breeding animosity amongst the people. He’s a cold man who sees even his own sister as a political tool.

This is the official description for Soshi’s route. Unfortunately(?) for some this... doesn’t really hold true for most of the route and I find it an odd way to bill it.

The initial conflict/relationship growth in the game stems from the MC wanting to be closer to Soshi - not necessarily in a romantic sense - and his distance due to his position. If you’re expecting a more haughty/sneering/pragmatic Kenjiro Tsuda more along the lines of his role as Kazama Chikage and/or a villain archetype who treats MC as a tool (no judgment, we all got our otome types) he’s by and large not that. Things get more complicated around the 10th chapter, but that’s 2/3 of the game in.

The writing is competent. Again, if you’re looking for complex worldbuilding and something deep, you will not find it here. But, while it isn’t poetry in motion, there was at least no point where I actively cringed or asked myself why I was playing it (this is compared to my experience with Voltage Games and Playchoices).

The MC is tolerable. There’s nothing special about her, but she avoids being a literal faceless protagonist with zero presence while also not having such a strong personality as to be polarizing. She shows more competence and restraint than I expected of her (the bar was nearly floor level, but still).

The pacing is... odd. I get the distinct feeling that it’s a longer otome shoved inside a mobile otome, if that makes sense. I’ve seen other reviews call it rushed, but that isn’t necessarily the feeling I get. For a game to feel “rushed” to me, it has to show a lack of care and attention to detail; scenes are had just to have them and either don’t contribute to the overall plot/theme/feeling of the game. I feel like this game does take care, especially in it’s early bits, but some developments happen later on which don’t get the development time they necessarily need. Which leads me to-

The plot kind of goes off the rails around chapter 10 or 11. It returns to form in chapter 14ish. This... plot twist, shall we say, is predicated on hiding obfuscating knowledge from the reader that should be apparent due to being from the MC’s PoV. Whether or not this is a dealbreaker will depend largely on the person. Personally, I was loopy off resisting sleep medication while reading this part so I just sort of accepted it and the return to form/explanation in later chapters made it worth it, but your mileage will definitely vary. I have Thoughts on this, but this is all I can really say while still maintaining a spoiler free review.

Playtime if ardently listening to the voices is ~3 hours. Playtime can be cut down significantly if you’re a fast reader and don’t overly care about the voice acting.

I haven’t tried all alternate options, but there doesn’t seem like huge variations regarding the choices. The 16th chapter, however, will change based on whether you get the Normal or Happy End.

Art - 7/10

The art isn’t anything special nor is it terrible. It’s much less stiff and has more style to it that most mobile otome’s I’ve played, but is lacking when compared to, again, full length otome games.

The MC has a face, which gets points from me (I dislike faceless MCs a lot especially when included in CGs). The fact no one but love interests even get sprites is somewhat jarring.

As far as CGs go, they’re standard fare and about the number you’d expect for the length of a route. The game isn’t raunchy like... at all so don’t expect anything too scandalous.

Voice Acting - 10/10

What can I say? It’s Kenjiro Tsuda.

To elaborate, however-

Kenjiro Tsuda does an excellent job. I’m not sure if I’d call it his best work, but even if it is voiced, I think there’s some expectation for a mobile otome’s voicework to be phoned in. This is not the case and Tsuda’s acting gives a lot of life to the character and scenarios. I’ll, uh, save my gushing for my line-by-line dissertation, and leave it at that.

What was unexpected was, despite not having sprites, minor characters do get voices! They also have some rather nice performances, and there was no VA I disliked listening to or whose performance was noticeably lacking compared to the others (the actual sound quality was consistent overall as well).

Overall - 8/10

Aside from the prologue, this is a solid performance from a mobile otome game. Compared to full-length otome games it’s lacking, but it’s still one of the better mobile otomes I’ve played. For the $6 you can get individual routes for on the mobile app, it’s a fun, quick romp that was perhaps not necessarily what was advertised (regarding the actual summary), but instead met the expectations I dared to dream of. While I can’t vouch for the game in its entirety, I can, at the very least, vouch for this route.

Comprehensive Overlook + Personal Rating - 10/10

Okay, I’ve been objective as possible despite this being a very subjective topic and now it’s time for me to shill my little heart out.

Writing a standard fare review for this game was really really hard for me because against all odds, logic, and my own taste preferring shit like Hakuouki, I’m in love with this game. Obsessed with it. Half the reason why I’m doing this is because it is a totally unremarkable (though, again, fun) otome game so of course it doesn’t have, like, a community, but I need to fucking gush about it somewhere.

Why?

Because Soshi Amazaki literally hits every single husband trait I so dearly love. This route is the equivalent of if someone took my taste buds and analyzed each and every one of them, then cooked a meal precisely on my most loved things. It isn’t necessarily fine dining, but it feels like it was scientifically engineered to appeal directly to me. It’s like I was possessed and ghostwrote it. It’s like someone peered into my heart and teased out the essence of everything I’ve ever wanted, then told me to eat shit because the shell it’s rammed into is that of a bite sized otome game. I have never had such a feast before me. I’ve never been served such an exquisite palette of flavors. I have never been so thoroughly outraged that this is the form my heart takes.

And yet, I’m... pretty much satisfied, despite its flaws and shortness, with my only real outrage stemming from the fact there is literally nobody I can talk about this with (the morning after I binged the entire route I made my boyfriend play it just so I could rave like a lunatic to someone about it) as well as my shame for being so enamored with what is essentially a mediocre otome game.

I talked about how the story kind of went off the rails 2/3rds of the way through, but honestly? I didn’t care because the payoff was incredible. Was I scared the game wasn’t going to end up where I wanted it to while it was happening? Was I prepared to be immensely disappointed because I felt, briefly, like I was baited and that of course nothing would never let me have my cake and eat it too? Yep. But you know what? I don’t know or care if it’s because I set the bar so low or what, but my expectations were thoroughly blown out of the water.

I’m still committed to making even this part of the review spoiler free, so I won’t be going into depth about what I loved (I’ll save that for another post because this is long enough as it is), but I’ll add this apart from just character archetype and themes being what I loved.

That is, shockingly enough and even considering the pacing and, ahem, weirdness - this is a route where everything seems to serve a function. Again, the story isn’t necessarily deep, and while perhaps I would’ve gone about certain things a different way (and had there been space allotted for greater development), there are many, many, many things that are called back to or that seem insignificant, but serve as thematic backbone and create delicious implications.

As a big brother connoisseur, I give this route 3 Michelin Stars.

If you followed me for/like Fire Emblem’s Marx/Xander, I highly recommend this route.

[rpgmgames]

May’s Featured Game: Cadeau

DEVELOPER(S): HALFWORLDstudios ENGINE: RPG Maker VX Ace GENRE: Horror, Fantasy, Puzzle WARNINGS: Blood, Mild Gore, Suicide Mentions, Death SUMMARY: Cadeau is an RPG Horror game about a lonely, yet stubborn, young woman named Charlotte-- who finds herself in a world unknown to man, wearing clothes that do not belong to her. Wonderful and tragic events are to follow suit, as all of her greatest wishes come true. However, as these things often go, her happiness does not come without consequence...

Play the beta here!

Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! Macdev: Greetings and salutations. I'm Mac, writer, artist, and programmer for Cadeau, as well as the founder of Halfworld. I've loved Rpg games since I was about 10, and have been creating them since! Bruno: My name is Bruno and I'm the music composer. I got into game music approx 2 years ago and I've currently made music for a couple of games and other projects, and Cadeau was the first one of them. Aidan: I'm Aidan/kanteramcneil on Tumblr! I'm one of the voice actors, and I'm super excited to be able to follow Cadeau's progress! I've been in the RpgMaker community for a few years now and I adore being able to watch all the devs progress and grow Rindre: Hi I'm Rin! Currently, I'm on an indefinite hiatus, but Big Mac managed to catch me, chain me up to a chair, and make me say stuff about myself against my will. So... I make games, I guess. - Note from macdev: Erm, not true? These accusations are SLANDER and I will not stand for it. WariA: Hello! I’m WaraiA, one of the voice actors of Cadeau — A pleasure to meet you! I will be voicing the oh so mysterious ‘Your Admirer’, so please look forward to listening to my antics ☆〜（ゝ。∂） I am a Japanese/Chinese Australian born citizen, with a tendency to speak in an American accent. Any pronouns are fine for me My most notable role so far has been Harpae from Pocket Mirror, so some of you may be familiar with my voice already! Nothing much has changed — I enjoy cosplaying, role playing, drawing every once in a blue moon, Final Fantasy XIV, and most importantly, catboys (Nael, I’m coming for you, boy) As ‘Your Admirer’ is a rather elusive character, I cannot disclose much. But I do suggest always keeping one eye open throughout your journey

What is your project about? What inspired you to create your game initially? *Macdev: Cadeau is a game about a troubled young woman named Charlotte Émile-- who is a "tomboyish" and bold individual who has been unfortunately presented loneliness by a series of disastrous events. After giving up on companionship, she miraculously receives an affectionate letter from a mysterious person aliased as her "Admirer". This "Admirer" character beckons poor Charlotte to visit them at a mysterious well in the woods, and to come armed with nothing but a strange golden coin. From there, madness ensues. Our protagonist must learn of her past and the events that lead to her misfortune, all while becoming entangled in a family drama rooted in witchcraft, raging years before her unexpected arrival. It is a story about self-love, friendship, acceptance, magic, and all that corny-ness. Sounds fun, right? My initial inspiration was The Witches House. The game was originally meant to be simple, and maybe an hour or 45 minutes long. A simple story, and a straightforward 2-ending path.... How have we managed to get here from that?

How long did you work on your project? *Macdev: Two years, I believe! Its anniversary is April 8th. In the beginning, it was very off and on-- because I was having a difficult time with school and-- as I mention-- organization. So not a whole lot of progress was made then. I'm proud to say I've been chugging quite a bit faster than my previous pace!

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *Macdev: My inspiration would probably lie in Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts, and Alice returns to madness. As for RPG games? The Witch's House, Havenfell, and Pocket Mirror. As well as many other beautiful artists and creators in the video game community. Overall, my biggest inspiration for this game has got to be the stop-motion movie: Coraline. I even reference the movie once or twice in Cadeau. The tone of Coraline, and the whimsical yet eerie people and creatures within it give me inspiration for this game. It was very much a favorite of mine when I was younger, and that still applies today!

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *Macdev: The biggest problem I've run into has been a lack of structure. In the beginning, I hadn't even written out the story halfway. I was just pulling ideas from thin air, going back and forth, and deleting entire concepts-- only to bring them back and re-arrange them as I went. Characters weren't fully dished out; the game didn't even have an ending. This state of creating is fine, but not when you have other people expecting things from you. Thankfully, things are sailing much MUCH smoother than before.

Did any aspects of your project change over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *Macdev: It's absolutely taken a turn from what it was originally! As I say, it was meant to be an extremely short game in the beginning, and now obviously that’s not the case. The goal for Cadeau now is: around 2-3 hours long in playtime, and full of many diverse character types! As well as a storyline that extends far more than face value. Which is in high contrast to the basic, short, immemorable experience that it was going to be.

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *Macdev: I do have a wonderful, beautiful, talented team working with me on Cadeau. - A composer! (Bruno Buglisi), - As well as voice actors! (WariA as Allete, Aiden/kanteramcneil as The Botanist, and Rindre (who I have definitely not kidnapped...) as The Maiden) I met everyone in the team through volunteer posts-- and I had never done that before-- but it worked very surprisingly well! We worked very quickly together, and we had a very mutual understanding of what each other wanted. It feels good to know I have such talented people helping this game come to fruition. I owe a whole lot to them for helping the game become what it is now.

What was the best part of developing the game? Macdev: Being able to make the world in your head interactable, for sure. Since I was 8, maybe even younger, I have loved writing stories and making art. Webcomics were my main thing as a kid, so story-telling is something I’ve always loved. So, the fact that I can turn my ideas into something someone can experience and interact with is a wonderful feeling. There's nothing more fulfilling, honestly!

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *Macdev: Very often, actually! I try not to ride too close to the material I see in other games, but I do gain lots of inspiration from my fellow creators! One thing I am laser-focused on, though, is making Cadeau quite unique content-wise. I want it to have very interesting, uncommon puzzles and mechanics that you may not expect from this type of game-- or one of this engine. So far, I think I've achieved this-- so look out for that!

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *Macdev: My favorite character has got to be The Botanist. At the beginning of the game he has no dialogue, yet still presents such a strong personality. They are kind, thoughtful, and absolutely adorable. Look at that foofy hair! I'm a sucker for it. Their character arc is something I'm excited for. It's been a blast writing it so far-- and I won’t spoil anything-- but you guys will love him. I'm sure of it. Now if we're talking character design, Naël has got to be my favorite. He recently received a “tune-up,” as I would like to call it, and I think everything works together very cohesively in his design now. It's probably one of my favorites out of all of them, at this point.

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *Macdev: Thankfully, things worked out perfectly-- and the universe blessed me with a wonderful team in the end-- but it was very stressful once I realized I had asked for help way too early. I essentially made a single map, and a little character sheet-- then asked for a whole team to help me out. As I said, it luckily worked out in the end. Now we have so many amazing people helping us-- but we also lost a few in the madness-- and that's a mistake on my part, 100%. If you don't know what you want, it's hard to ask for help. It will lead to confusion, lots of back and forth, frustration, etc... Just wait until your way further in development. Trust me. I know it’s easy to jump the gun and shoot for the stars, but sometimes it won’t work out as well as it has for the Cadeau team!

Do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *Macdev: I won't say as of now! The idea of a sequel/prequel has floated around, but if it does come to fruition, it won't be until way after the release of Cadeau. We'll just have to see. (This isn’t to say I’m not hopeful!)

With your current project, what do you look most forward to upon/after release? *Macdev: I have so many amazing project ideas lined up for after the release of Cadeau. I won’t spill too much, so they'll be more of a surprise-- but they range from classic, adventure-themed true RPG's-- to 3D teenage-thrillers. I'm honestly stoked, there's so much in store for Halfworld.

Is there something you’re afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *Macdev: I think my biggest fear is letting people down. Also, I worry about losing interest or having people form the idea that the game is never going to be completed. It’s just going to take some time, is all, and that’s okay!

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *Macdev: I already mentioned above not to jump the gun and ask for help too early, so some more advice I'll give: is to keep all your material, all your ideas, and all your concepts in one concise place. I would say do it digitally from the get-go, but if you would prefer to write it down physically that's fine! Just make sure it's only one or 2 notebooks, and not 13. The information for Cadeau is spread throughout my hideous mound of notebooks, as I get up during ungodly hours of the night to scrawl a sudden idea down. So, I'm currently in the process of moving them to one digital spot-- and while it's generally easy-- I would have been able to avoid it if I had just put everything in one spot in the beginning. Oh, and back up your progress regularly! I have separate backups of Cadeau from months in 2 different years, and in 4 different places. So, I take backups very seriously—and so should you!

Question from last month's featured dev @atlasatrium: What's your favorite RPG Maker game and why? *Aidan: I love End roll, Ib, OFF, Prom Dreams, From Next Door, and Aria's Story! Bruno: Mm, definitely Long Gone Days (though it’s not being made on rpgmaker now) Midnight Train, Heartbeat and Glitched! WariA: I don't really have any :0 the devs I've worked with so far have all been really sweet (´꒳`);; Macdev: This is a tough question! I have a lot of favorites. Probably Stray Cat Crossing overall, but I also love Home and Starboy. Starboy brings a lot of memories, and Stray Cat Crossing was what inspired me to start making games! Oh, and Home is just very cute.

We mods would like to thank HALFWORLDstudios for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Cadeau if you haven’t already! See you next month! 

- Mods Gold & Platinum