#‘it’s not that serious’ I’m going to bite through a steel beam

[mooseonahunt]

Please for the love of God learn the difference between Latino and Hispanic if you don’t already

[clarissalance]

Who has the upper hand?

Pairing: Kaeya x G/N!Reader, mention of Varka and Diluc.

Warning: Slight swearing, Kaeya is a lil shit, reader being stubborn and scheming, immense tension

Summary: You’re so terrible at swordsmanship that you can’t withstand 2 strikes from Kaeya or, are you? 

Word count: 3k5

Disclaimer: What is written in here is based on my imagination, nothing from this fic should be taken seriously. Most of the fact I put in this fic does not follow the lore of the game so it should only be taken as a grain of salt. For example: section 8 in Knight of Favonius codebook.

A/N: I struggle so much when I wrote this piece. This was suppose to be angstier but I tone down a little bit (because Kaeya was very OOC in my draft, I think he’s still a bit OOC in this fic but I tried my best ;-;, pls don’t bite me.) 

How did author write a 50k+ oneshot? I can’t write something more than 5k properly ;-; Anyhow, please enjoy this fic. I’m going to have a good rest for 2 weeks before release a comeback. Please shower Kaeya and our new MC with a lot of loves!!!! 

As a strategist of the knight of Favonius, you don't usually have enough time to finish the towers of reports, the never-ending meetings and dealing with cheap tricks Fatui diplomats. Often, you have to skip your daily sword training session, which results in a rather miserable situation. The whole practice ground is staring holes at your defeated posture. You are sitting on the hard soil ground, and the Calvary captain is towering you, his sharp blade just a few inches away from your throat. 

It is not a strange scene for any knights to lose a spar against the Calvary captain, he should be one with the best swordsmanship after Grand Master, and maybe Acting-Grand Master, too. However, as knight, they can usually withstand him at least more than 2 blows. 

Whispers and talks start to circulate around as soon as you stepped your foot in the training ground. It’s very uncommon to see people from that department wandering around this area. The strategy department is famous inside the Knight of Favonius to be the weakling-cunning-mouthy-jerks, who always find excuses after excuses to skip the monthly knight evaluation. 

So, who gives them the right to be exempt from the test? Of course, it’s from the ultimate high chief of strategy department. Rumours say before the strategy chief works for the Favonius knight, the man was once a legendary attorney. That person can flip words from black to white, turns the defendant from guilty to innocent.  With a profound convincing skillset coming from the chief, persuading the Grand Master Varka is easy as a piece of cake. The whole department of 10 people is easily off-hook for 3 years, never participate in the monthly evaluation before the man suddenly dropped the bomb 2 days ago.  

“ I’m tired from coming with excuses to cover for your lazy asses.” The man waved his hand, his eyes staring outside the window. His nails scratching the messy shaved chin.“ Varka seems to get used to navigating my thoughts-”

“Maybe time is wearing away your skill-” At the corner, someone accidentally blurted out, and the whole table gave him a sharp look. Did he have a death wish or something? If so, everyone here can happily dig him a hole, free charge for the coffin.

The chief cleared his voice again, blue eyes melancholy drifted to the table. “So, you guys have tried your best on this monthly evaluation. I hope to see you all again next month.” 

The meeting was dismissed afterwards, and everything spiralled into chaos. The whole department hasn’t touched anything aside from the parchment papers and the quills in the last 3 years. How are they going to master the swordman-ship in 2 weeks? 

But, the worst thing is,

Your well-respected, talented, and tactful chief has run away. 

The next morning, you received the news that a foxy old man is on a business trip to Fontaine with the Grand Master. The expedition is 2 weeks long.

You should have known what he meant when the deceitful man ambiguously ended his sentence like that. Nothing goes well when the chief said:  ‘Farewell, my comrades’. 

 For the last 2 days, you have been starting to familiarize yourself again with how to hold a sword and how to swing the sword. 

As you trail along with the long-forgotten memories, trying to look through the familiar feeling when swinging the sword, you hear footsteps coming in your direction. It is familiar, with the way the person is walking, the beat, the sudden burst of noise in the air, you can only conclude it’s the Calvary Captain. The practice ground seems livelier as soon as the man steps inside, people rushing to his side to give their greetings. Maybe today is one of his practice days.

 “ Never thought I would see you here.” The young man calls out, successfully jostle you up from your thoughts. You give him a complex look and turn away, focusing on the tattered dummies. Your wrist is screaming in protest, legs wobbling. You remember those golden days when you were young when you were flexible, and your bones didn't crack as much. Oh, where the golden days have gone? 

“What do I own the honour of seeing you here, captain?” You fold your arm defensively, voice monotonously. Kaeya despites the most when you start talking in an emotionless tone. Oh, how you love riling him up in the middle of the practice ground! 

“ I come here for my weekly practice, but-” He shrugs, eyes glinting with mischief. “ look like the rumour about the abolishment of special permission for the strategy department is true.” 

So he has heard the rumours. You roll your eyes, face blanks. You know Kaeya has his own way to obtain his information, but you never thought it’d be this fast. Words don’t easily leak from the strategy department. 

“What do you need? Make it short, so I can practice for the upcoming evaluation.” Tired of his long introduction, you ask him directly. If you are going to ignore him any longer, the man will continue poking you. 

Starting an argument only wastes your time, and asserting dominance in the middle of the training ground won’t boost your ego. You’re a strategist, your weapons are detailed plans and sharp word, not sword and bow. Showing off your strength in front of those ruthless knights don't improve your relationship with them. 

“ Straight the point eh?” You give him an impatiently look, tempting to ignore him again before he flashes you a smug grin. “How bout sparing with me?”  

The whole training ground falls in silence, and you direct at the captain a confusing look. Is he serious? No one in the knight except the Grand Master can go against him, not to mention someone who hasn’t touched a sword for three years. 

“I can help you with your training, and you can help with mine” Kaeya speaks with utmost confidence that you almost nod and agree. That man is really deceitful, he knows how well your skill has gone dull, yet he still wants to practice with you? What is this man plotting?  

“ Do you realize how absurd your offer is? ” You give him a complicated gaze, voice unwavering. Everyone takes in a deep breath, tension crackling. It's not everyday scenery you often encounter. A heated argument between the mischievous cavalry captain and the tactful strategist. Nosy people gather around the pair, internally hoping for the war the breaks out. 

“ You know well that I can’t properly block your first strike.” Light-hearted, you joke, but there is no hint of amusement in your voice. Sharpe eyes glaring at the blue figure, you notice the man remains unfazed. 

" Shouldn't you choose a more competent opponent?" 

The sound whispers and talking about the reasons why Kaeya picked such an easy opponent start to circulate, and you can’t help to curl your lips up. Within a  few seconds, you have effortlessly turned the gossiping direction toward your desired path. Flashing Kaeya a victorious grin, you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for his reaction.

You should have worked at PR damage control or marketing instead! The diplomat would have been fine too! At least, you wouldn’t need to practice swordman-ship.

As you mulling on your terrible choice of career, a chill runs down your spine. Tilting up, Kaeya is beaming sweetly at you, the frost slowly creeping up and nipping your shoes. Look like you just pressed the wrong button. 

The man narrows his eyes, and you gulp nervously, avoiding his calculating gaze. Kaeya chuckles, his voice laced with worry, wavering and hurtful. 

“I just want to help you improve as fast as possible. The test is coming in two weeks isn't it?” 

The whole table has turned, and people start to say how considerate and thoughtful the cavalry captain is. The crowd starts to criticize you and tell you to be more grateful and stop suspicious of his unconditional help. Oh, you wish he wasting it on you, many knights in this training ground would love getting advice and improvements from him. 

Applause for our dear Calvary captain, smoothly seeking empathy from the crowd and turning the favour back to him. No wonder how fast he climbed up the rank. 

Bantering and arguing with a person like him is meaningless, so you accept his offer and drag your sword toward his direction. Let finish this within 2 strikes. 

Moving to the centre of the field, both of you face each other, his eyes scanning you sceptically. What is this man plotting again? Bowing, you finally give him a warning look before standing at your ready position. Kaeya holds his sword, analyzing your starting posture. 

As soon as the whistle blows, you charge at the man, opening the spar with a direct hit. Kaeya quickly raises his word up to block the first blow, the sound of steel clashing loudly. He then forcefully diverts the sword to the left, a classic way to counter the strike. 

Knowing your limited strength against him, you take a step back and swiftly angle the blade downward, aiming for a weak spot at his waist. This move would create a noticeable weakness on your right, and only the idiot doesn't use this as his advantage to disarm you. 

You’re right, he uses the loophole you planned, successfully disarm you within 2 strikes. The sword slips from your hand clanging loudly behind as your foot slips and fall on the ground. 

His sharp blade is just a few inches away from your neck. The calvary captain wears a solemn look, his cerulean eyes imbued with irritation. Seems like he figures out you purposefully planed to end the match in 2 strikes. 

Quickly raising your hand in defeat, you shoot him a taunting grin. The referee declares Kaeya is the winner, and people start to clap and cheer loudly, but overall no one is surprised. As the match end, audiences start to disperse, return back to their tasks. 

Kaeya put his sword away and offers you his hand. You stare idly at the gloved hand a moment before putting yours on. The man effortlessly pulls you up, your body flush against his. With Kaeya so close to you, your first reaction is to push the man away, but his firm grip says otherwise. He inches closer, dark blue locks brush your cheek, tall figure towering you intimidating. 

“Why end it so early?” He leans down and whispers, your body tenses up visibly. “Surely, you could handle more than 2 strikes of mine.” The young man in blue hums, his voice sultry. 

“ What are you saying? I haven’t touched the sword more than 3 years.” You remind him, hands pushing his chest away, trying to create some distance. The man doesn’t budge an inch. 

“Your strikes doesn’t say so. The first strike was not bad.” Noticing your effort to push him away, Kaeya stands straight, heels dig into the ground. His lips curl up at the helplessness flashing in your eyes. He loves seeing you struggle, seeing how anxiety and desperation rising in your sparkling orbs. “I think you could at least have a decent fight with me.”  

“ Quit spouting non-sense Kaeya, let me go. We are in public.” You let out an annoyed hiss, punching his toned chest. He still wears the uniform improperly like that, the exposed tan chest can be under many layers. Sometimes you don't even know the reason why doesn't he just button the shirt up properly. Finger grazing at the bared skin on his chest, you turn your head away, cheeks heat up. 

The man loves seeing you squirming in his trap, and you’re not going to let him see that. Anything, but satisfying his masochist hobby. 

“You don’t like skin-ship?” The man fakes a gasp, his orb sparkles with mirth. “But you were being touchy with your friend. Why can't we be a bit touchy? ”  His tone suggestively, the tall man snickers at your blushing mess. Out of everything, why would he mention that? You give him stinky eyes, brows furrow deeply.  

“I’m not touchy with you.” You deny dreadfully. Archon, how long have you wasted your time here with this slithering serpent? 

Kaeya arms wrap tightly around you, your body moulds perfectly into his embrace. You hate how perfectly you fit into his hug like this, but you can’t deny how warm he is, despite the fact he wields cryo. 

“ When will you let me go?” Your voice starts to grow weak, dragging slightly in discomfort.  Kaeya curiously looks down, noticing your pouting. Sensing his gaze, you turn your head away but his fingers have quickly grabbed your cheek, forcing you to look at his deep blue eye.  

“Give me a kiss, then I'd let you go.” His voice serious, but what he just said is not. You look at the cryo wielder horrendously, mouth gaping. His face is composed and relax, like what he just ask is like asking about the weather, asking about your health, not for a kiss. Is he being serious? What in the world did he just ask? A kiss? Excuse me, a what? 

“You...you are not being serious.” You wriggle your way out, escaping from his fingers, but his embrace tightens, caging you inside. Damn it, Kaeya. He’s messing with you. 

When you flash him a furious look, the man shrugs nonchalantly, his cerulean lock fluttering gently in the wind. Suddenly, you have an urge to wipe off that calm demeanour. He can’t be serious. Why does he have to go all the way to annoy the shit out of you? 

The smug grin hanging on his face, the mischief in his blue eyes, the arching brows, everything about him screams a flirt, yet you feel so mesmerized. Blinking a few times, you have to constantly remind yourself this man is not trustworthy. From the attitude to the way he looks at you, to the way he acts around you. Nothing from his action is truthful. Like Diluc’s warning, you can only believe half of his word and action. 

“ Of course I’m being serious.” His voice solemn, but you can see the amusement in his eyes. If he doesn’t like you, why would he spend so much effort bothering you this much? What reaction is he expecting from you?  

“ I really like you, Y/N” Kaeya confesses cheerfully, and you can faintly hear a few gasps around. Not this again...

Archon, you’re going to die early at this rate. You just want to practice for the upcoming evaluation, not becoming a hot topic for all Mondstadt citizen to gossip about. 

And this man too, how can he easily slip out those words when you just heard him flirting with another woman the other day?  You already told him numerous times that you’re not interested in dating him, or anyone right now! 

Hung your head down in exhaustion, you tap his shoulder, mumbling quietly. “ Fine, fine.” You finally open your mouth, too exhausted and bothered by his stubbornness. He only wants a kiss, and you won’t hurt giving him one. Just a kiss then you can get back to your practice.  

“Just don’t confess your love to me in a crowd like this again.” Before closing the deal, you weakly add a bargain, nudging him.  

The calvary captain looks surprised, his eye widens little, not expecting you to agree. Normally, it takes another argument or two before you comply with his request. Kaeya timidly raises his gloved hand to your face, gently caresses your cheek. This time, you lean into his touch, nuzzling your face into his palm, eyes glimmering softly. Despite a cryo wielder, his hand is surprisingly warm. 

The man in blue curiously peeks at you, he feels like a feather tickling the itchy spot. Are you plotting an escape route? Since when did you become so obedient? He has never seen the soft fur under the spiky façade you set up to face with the world, but strangely, he likes this version of you more. 

Noticing his relaxed stance, you carefully gently wrap your fingers around his wrist while keeping eye contact with him. Kaeya eye widens, startles at your sudden touching. Trying your best to not break the unspoken connection, you bring his hand away from your cheek. In those cerulean eyes, you see a hint of disappointment, but it quickly dissolves. Slowly, you draw closer toward the hand hanging in the air, lips fluttering on the smooth skin on his wrist. 

The calvary captain instinctively moves back, trying to escape from your sudden contact. Ironic, he is the one who innates the hug and demands a kiss from you. Tightening your grip, you press your wet lips on the exposed part of his wrist dedicatedly while maintaining eye contact with him, eyes drown with submission.

Kaeya stares at you in awe, maybe not expecting the passionate look in your eyes. His azure eye fills with mischief, now replaces with confusion and hesitation. You notice how his ears have dusted with pink despite the winds blowing in the practice ground. The man avoids your eyes, flustering. 

Whispers and gasps start to remind you of the crushing reality, so you let his hand down while grinning cheekily at the cryo wielder. Poking and breaking Kaeya meticulously façade is always something you want to try. The man is a living devil, so it’s extremely unusual to see him losing his composure. 

Sneakily, you untangle his other arm wrapping around your waist, plotting an escape route. 

However, Barbatos doesn’t let you slip away that easily. Quickly regaining his composure, Kaeya snakes his hand around your hip again, tightening his hold. Unlike the first time, the sneaky bastard lifts you up and has the audacity to throw your body on his shoulder, carry you like a sack. 

“ Yah! What are you doing?” You exclaim, fluster at his sudden antic. Kicking and punching on his shoulder, you try as many as you can, but somehow, Kaeya manages to dodge all of them.   

“ You said you will let me go when I give you a kiss!” The crowd uproars, stares and gossips poke pointedly at your back. You don’t want to hear those comments from those knights again. They're not going to let this live down, aren't they? Bury your face in the Kaeya's furry collar, you let out a frustrating sigh, punching his shoulder as hard as you can. 

“ You give me a kiss on my wrist. That doesn’t count.” Kaeya nonchalantly strides away from the practice ground, unfazed by your attempt to escape. This man is a beast, how can he not budge an inch with all of your kickings on his shoulder? 

“ You didn’t specify the place. A kiss is a kiss!” You emphasize, and you can feel his shoulder shaking. Is he laughing? “You didn’t keep your promise.” Fuels by the rising anger, you kick your leg aggressively, struggling to free yourself from the iron-clad grip. This time, his strong arm wraps around your calves like a chain.  

As soon as you raise your head up, the familiar pathway hits your memories. Shit, he is heading toward the headquarter, likely to his office. You can’t let anyone in there see you in this state. Punching his back profusely, you shot back. 

“Not fulfilling the contract is breaking the Knight of Favonius's code of cond-.” Before you can finish your sentence, the man smacks your calves loudly, successfully shutting your mouth. Speechless by his sudden punishment, you let out a disbelief breath.    

“ There are no such a section states about fulfilling contract inside the code of conduct, so stop making the rule up.” Kaeya smugly grins, and you can already picture his blue eyes glinting with mischief, the signature shit-eating grin on his handsome face.

" There is, it's in section eight-" Before you can finish your sentence, Kaeya cuts in, waving his hand dismissively. 

" Section eight is about interaction with your co-worker, there is none about keeping contracts." The calvary captain humming, trying to recalling the content of the book. Speechless by the detailed memories of his, you can only close your mouth, quietly waiting for him to drop you down. If you stay still on his shoulder, will he let you go? 

" You know, not everyone reads and memories the knight of Favonius handbook, you are just unlucky that I know the book by heart." Seeing you deflate weakly on his shoulder, Kaeya lets out a chuckle, patting your head comforting.       

Before heading inside the HQ, the man doesn't drop your down but leans in closely, his whisper tickling your ear. “But at least I had fun seeing you squirming in my grasp.” 

And then it hits you, the bastard purposely falls for of your antic. 

[cheapthrillsbeca]

#27 for the prompts :)

27. “I’ve never actually um… Dated anyone before.”

“Ugh, how did I let you trick me into watching this?” Beca tips back her beer, finishing it in three long pulls before setting the empty bottle down with a clink on Chloe’s bedside table. “That was my third beer and I’m still too sober for this. I can’t, I’m done.”

Chloe just rolls her eyes.

“I don’t see any shackles on your wrists,” she says, dropping her gaze to where Beca’s hands are resting in her lap, which, for some inexplicable reason, makes Beca blush. Chloe winks at her before turning her attention back to the laptop balanced across their thighs. “You’re free to go at any time. But I’m not telling you who Noah takes to the Fantasy Suite.”

Beca crosses her arms and grumbles, wishing that Chloe could at least pretend that she might follow through on her threat.

“I just don’t get why all these girls put themselves through this.” She gestures toward the screen. “They spend hours getting all dolled up like Playboy Bunnies, and for what? To spend an hour picking at a salad and making excruciating small talk with a generically handsome firefighter? Why would they do that?”

“I mean, sure, first dates can be weird and awkward. That’s true on this show and in real life,” Chloe says. “But every so often someone comes along that makes it all worth it.”

Beca chews the side of her lip. “How do you mean?”

“You know -- when you meet the right person, an awkward first date leads to a slightly less awkward second date and third, fourth, and fifth date. And then you’re just, like, dating. And you get to the good stuff.”

Beca picks at her cuticles, wishing she’d thought to bring more beers back from her last trip to the kitchen.

“Like… what kind of stuff?”

“What do you mean?” Chloe giggles. “You want me to list the fun parts of dating someone? I don’t think you need me to tell you that.”

“Well, for the sake of argument, let’s say I do.”

“Wait… I don’t get it.”

Chloe turns toward her, and Beca’s grateful they shut off the lights before settling down on the bed, because she’s pretty sure her cheeks are scarlet right now.

“I’ve never actually um… Dated anyone before.”

Chloe laughs, shaking her head like she can’t believe she got lured into another one of Beca’s jokes. After a few seconds of silence she catches on, and Beca can feel her watching her more carefully.

“But, Becs,” she says, voice laced with uncertainty. “You and Jesse…”

Beca flicks her hand through the air dismissively, batting the suggestion away.

“Please, Jesse doesn’t count. We, like, hooked up for a few weeks. I wouldn’t call that dating.”

“Okay.” Chloe tilts her head, considering Beca for a few beats. “And… no one before Jesse?”

Her voice goes up at the end, like she just can’t believe what she’s hearing, and Beca winces. In her nearly two years at Barden she’s come to trust Chloe more than anyone. She can’t say she isn’t hurt that Chloe is judging her over this embarrassing admission.

“No, alright?” she says in a huff. “I’ve never dated anyone -- not in high school, not in college. Hell, I didn’t even have a fake husband in elementary school.”

Beca tries to keep her breathing even, only vaguely aware of Chloe as she pauses the show and moves the laptop to the side so she can angle herself toward Beca.

“I don’t get it.” Chloe’s voice is soft and Beca steels herself. The only thing worse than being mocked is being pitied.

“What? That I’m that big of a loser?”

“No,” Chloe says, shaking her head vehemently. “I don’t get it because you’re, like, so dateable.”

Beca risks a sideways glance at Chloe, looking at her for the first time since she broached this subject. She looks earnest enough, but Beca isn’t quite buying it.

“Yeah, right…”

“I’m serious.” Chloe takes Beca’s hand and pulls it into her lap. “You’re smart, you’re driven, you have an amazing voice -- not to mention a banging body, Becs.” Her gaze rakes down Beca’s body, and even though she’s in sweats, Beca’s cheeks heat up again. “I don’t get how everyone on campus isn’t tripping over themselves to be with you.”

Beca laughs softly, glancing at the ceiling in disbelief. Even though she’s pretty sure Chloe’s just being nice, hearing her list off her dateable qualities still makes Beca’s pulse race.

“Thanks, Chlo,” she mutters, smiling at her.

Chloe squeezes her hand before interlacing their fingers. Beca’s never said it, but she loves when Chloe does that. She wonders if she knows.

“Know what else?”

“What?”

“If I was taking you on a first date, there wouldn’t be any salads or awkward small talk.”

And maybe Beca’s tipsier than she thought, because she shifts on the bed, mirroring Chloe’s position, and happily takes the bait.

“Oh yeah?” she asks, arching an eyebrow. “And what would this date entail?”

Chloe scoffs. “Well I’m not going to just tell you.”

“Hey, that’s not fair.” Beca pouts. “You can’t just dangle that carrot and then not follow through.”

Chloe takes a deep breath, like she’s willing herself to have patience.

“Beca,” she says, speaking slowly. “I’m not going to tell you about what I want to do on our first date. You’ll have to actually go out with me to find out.”

Beca’s mouth falls open, eyes searching Chloe’s face.

“Hang on… Wait… Are you--”

“Beca, I’m asking you out.”

“Oh.”

Chloe grins at her, somehow looking equally smug and hopeful, and Beca gets the distinct feeling that everything in her life has just clicked into place. She smiles back and runs her thumb across Chloe’s knuckles.

“So… is that a yes?”

Beca nods, biting her bottom lip. “Okay, yeah,” she says, trying her best to sound nonchalant. “But I have one condition.”

Chloe beams at her, and Beca could swear she’s blinking back tears. “Anything. Name it.”

“Instead of a first date, can we start on, say, our fifth date?”

“Sure,” Chloe says, giggling. “But why?”

Beca smiles. “Because I want to get to the good stuff.”

[laurenairay]

Flirt - T. Seguin

Prompt: “You think I’m a flirt but that’s only because I flirt with you”

Tagging: @texanstarslove​ @romanseggy​ @bestestbenn​ @thebookofmags​ @danglesnipecelly​ @denis-scorianov​ @chicagoblackhawkslover96​

A/N: this is the first of my Valentine’s Day prompt blurbs, so I hope you all enjoy it! Just a bit of fun ���� if anyone wants to be tagged in the others on my list, let me know!

*

“I’ve got a delivery for you,”

You looked up from your drink, confusion turning to a fond smile at the sight of Tyler Seguin standing by the kitchen island, one arm behind his back. Becoming friends with some of the Dallas Stars had its perks, including plenty of summer barbecues, casual drinks, wine nights, and big takeout nights like the gathering you were at today…and the attention of a certain star hockey player.

Well, you knew damn well that Tyler flirted with you just as much as he flirted with every other woman in his life, but it was nice to be the receiver of all of that intensity. Flirty words, a hand on your back at the bar, dancing in a crowd, making you laugh with stories, lots of compliments whenever you saw him…the list went on. Sure, you loved it. But you knew it wasn’t real. It was just Tyler being Tyler.

“Hmm maybe stick to the day job,” you teased, although you turned your body to face him anyway, as the other people in the room left.

You knew you’d be quizzed about this later from the women you were talking with, but for right now, you didn’t care. You’d barely seen him today, so you were going to savour this while it lasted.

“So you don’t want the gift I bought you?” Tyler asked with a grin.

“Well I didn’t say that…”

Tyler smirked, walking closer towards you, until he swung his arm out from behind him, dramatically presenting you with a box. Oh wow. These were expensive chocolates. You knew that Pavs bought them for his wife on their anniversary from a little luxury shop downtown, because she’d gushed about them at one of the last get-togethers. Wow.

“Thank you, Tyler. I don’t even know what to say,” you said, eyes wide.

Tyler’s smirk softened into a beaming smile, making your heart skip a beat. This…this wasn’t normal. He didn’t usually do this, the gift buying. This was different. Why? Why now?

“Why, Tyler?” you asked, biting your bottom lip.

“It’s nearly Valentine’s Day, and I thought I’d get you something just as sweet as you are,” he said innocently.

And there it was.

“Alright you big flirt, simmer down,” you mused, rolling your eyes.

You ignored the tiny part of you that hoped it wasn’t just Tyler being his usual self.

But as you took another sip of your drink, Tyler stayed silent, making you frown. What? Was it something you said?

“What’s wrong?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

Tyler cleared his throat as he ran his hand through his hair, before he seemed to steel himself with a deep breath.

“I know you think I’m a flirt but that’s only because I flirt with you,”

Your jaw dropped slightly at Tyler’s soft words, and Tyler just huffed out a laugh.

“I mean it,” Tyler shrugged, “yeah, I’m charming, and I smile and wink and flatter people…but honest-to-god flirting? No, no-one else,”

His self-deprecating smile made you swallow heavily and look down away from him briefly, before looking back up at his face. His face, which had shifted into an expression that was much more nervous.

“I just…”

Tyler trailed off before he sighed.

“I can stop. If it makes you uncomfortable,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

You opened and closed your mouth, words failing. Because you honestly didn’t know what to say.

Did he make you uncomfortable? Absolutely not.

But that was because you didn’t think he was ever serious – you thought it was all a joke, just a part of Tyler’s nature. So for him to be seriously flirting? You didn’t even know where to start with that.

“Should I take your silence as a sign to leave?” Tyler said, trying to make things light with a laugh but it just came out strained.

“No,”

Your sharp words surprised you, and you felt your cheeks heat up with warmth at the pleased smile that spread across his lips.

“No?” he repeated, eyes sparkling.

You let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding. “No. You shouldn’t leave,”

Tyler’s smile slipped into a smirk, and he took another step closer towards you, making your heartbeat start to race.

You may never have genuinely considered Tyler’s flirting before, but now? Now you couldn’t think of anything else.

“So,” he started, stopped when he was only a foot away from you, “Now you know that I’m serious with my flirting, and now that you don’t want me to stop…does this mean I can finally take you out for a drink some time?”

Oh wow.

Tyler wants to take you out for a drink? As a date?

Tyler?

The very thought of it made your breath catch in your throat, and you knew exactly what your answer would be.

“I suppose that would be okay,” you shrugged, unable to stop the grin that spread across your lips.

“Oh now who’s flirting,” Tyler grinned back.

[dovveling]

Lucio/Iolas - Wedding Proposal

(I really liked my long ass answer to the love ask about their proposal so i wanted to make it it’s own post that way y’all can ready it easier--)

The sun hung low in the sky as Lucio makes his way to the palace gardens. He has asked Iolas to meet him out by their favorite spot in the garden maze. the blonde smiles remembering how the two of them had found the hidden spot while goofing around and shoving each other into the hedges. It wasn't until one hard push sent Lucio through the hedge that he had found it. He fully expected to land on his ass but instead he found himself on the other side of a portal with Iolas calling for him from the other side.

Quickly Lucio ushered the other man through the portal and the two looked over a hidden meadow that seemed to be somewhere close to the center of the maze. Lucio could picture it perfectly; the stark white gazebo in the center, the perfect sun rays that sprinkled the fluffy grass and the willow tree with its small leaves that dripped and trickled. He fondly reminisced when the wind would blow and the tendrils of the willow would tickle up the wooden beams of the gazebo and scare Iolas into laughter every time the leaves would brush against his lover.

As Lucio draws closer to the portal he stops right before he enters and stares at the ring he had spent hours picking out. He had never fussed so much over a gift for someone. It was a first for him to worry about gift-giving, because anything he picked out was glamorous and simply perfect. This however wasn't just a gift.

It was a question.

Which meant it had to be perfect. Every time he would think he was close to choosing a ring he would look and see a flaw. A flaw that Iolas had the potential see. Which if he did meant the possibility of Lucio never getting to hear the answer he so desperately wants to the question He’s so nervous to ask.

So many times Lucio doubled back on himself about the proposal. Is this just too much? His mind would race. Could he see himself getting married again when his last marriage was such a failure? Then he would hear it. Iolas' laugh. Followed by the heart warming memories of the sunlight hitting the coffee skin of his lover. Afterwards every reservation burned away and was replaced with a deep desire to make this person his and only his.

Clinging to his new found confidence Lucio steels himself as he pockets the ring, almost dropping the bottle of champagne he forgets he was holding. As he pushes through the portal the blonde's heart skips a little at the sight of his lover resting on the side of the white gazebo. He’s wearing a white robe that Lucio had gotten commissioned to match his iconic white suit. The sight of it sets his heart running, he now knows the other dressed up just for him. As Lucio walks closer he can tell his lover seems to be lost in thought. He watched the other man’s crimson eyes gaze over the tree line, transfixed on something invisible as their thoughts dictate their face. It isn’t until Lucio steps closer and knocks on the wood with a playful tune that his lover acknowledges that the count has walked into the meadow. Lucio’s wolfish smile triggers a similar grin on his lover’s face.

"Hi, my Darling--" Iolas starts before pulling Lucio over by his collar to meet their lips together. With a giggle Iolas watches Lucio hop over the median of the gazebo instead of using the very close opening that's just a little be over to the side of them. Lucio tries to steady his face, but he can’t help that he’s excited. He doesn't want to come off too eager or nervous, but Lucio can tell his poker face failed as Iolas gives him a curious look. "What are you planning? I know that look."

Lucio however holds his hands up in defense after he places the bottle of champagne down on the railing in front of them. "Why do I always have to be up to something huh? Can't a man just meet his lover in a secret hole in the woods for some late-night drinking and maybe a little late-night macking?" the blonde throws the magician a wink, which is met with a playful smack that Lucio is all too found of.

"Did you bring glasses, Oh Count of Macking?" Iolas teases with a click of his tongue and to that Lucio's face freezes for a second. The easily distracted count did not think about the glass part of drinking, but his shock lasts for a split second before he nudges his lover with an elbow and a cheeky grin. "Can't you just magic something up for us--" Before Lucio can even finish Iolas throws his head back, his whole body shakes with a genuine laugh. One that Lucio only sees when Iolas reacts to his particular stupidity. "Absolutely not. I cannot manifest glassware, but fret not Lulu I prepared for this." The silver-haired man stands on the railing of the gazebo and reaches up behind one of the posts and brings down two champagne glasses. Lucio amused at this helps the shorter man down before taking both glasses and leaning down to give his lover a short kiss on the head.

Snickering to himself Lucio places the glasses down and pops open the champagne. "See? Who needs magic when you have a lover who has the spirit of a squirrel. Why are those even up there?" Iolas can't seem to hold back his laugher and starts into a long dialogue about how the last party they hosted he was tasked with disposing of all the drinks Lucio downed after getting into a drinking match with Julian. At some point he got too fed up hauling all the empty glass wear to and fro so he eventually gave up and used the portal which was much closer than the garbage. Soon as he finishes that story Lucio makes note that not only does he not remember this drinking contest at all, but he also notices that the whole upper layer of the Gazebo is littered with small drinking glasses of all shapes and sizes.

After the two of them laugh at the absurdity of the situation the couple dive into a comfortable speed of talking. Slowly they unravel the days events to each other, to which Lucio adds more flavor by introducing the drinks. The sun finally settles and the garden lights flicker on and thanks to all the glass wear in the gazebo small reflected lights scattered within their own space. Slowly the stories of their day dwindle and eventually, they huddle close to each other so they can look under the top of their gazebo and point out stars. Lucio watches the small warm lights bounce off his lover's face and his heart races. He can't chicken out now.

"Iolas." Lucio stops the silver-haired man mid-sentence as the other was going on about his zodiac sign and how it will be visible in the sky soon until he hears his name.

Iolas pauses fully, not use to hearing his full name exit his lover's lips unless it was during a more intimate and scandalous situation. So he hides his hesitation with a smile and he answers the blonde with the same tone he just used but exaggerated with a deeper tone to lighten the mood. "Lucio." The count starts to fidget but just laughs when Iolas mocks his serious tone. "No really, uh... Listen for a second." Iolas' face now turns from curious to worried. " Uh oh. that's a real serious tone. What did you do?" Lucio brushes him off, biting his lip and rubs the back of his neck. He feels so lame doing this, but that's the point.

Lucio stands up straight taking Iolas' hands, looking directly into those red eyes. For a second Lucio’s mind feels erased. It was as if looking into his lovers eyes reset every word he had planned out, but the ring sits heavy in his pocket. So he tried and opens his mouth only to close it so he can bring Iolas' cold fingers to his lips, unable to find his words just yet.

Iolas' however is completely taken aback. His lover has been romantic before but he was much more used to their back a forth of one-upping each other and superficial compliments they would glob onto each other. Their usual dynamic coupled with nightly flings where he ended up in the blonde's bed, made the sudden tenderness unsettling.

The magician could feel that dark feeling creep to his shoulders. The one that would say he shouldn't get his hopes up, that he's happy filling the count's time till he finds a real suitor. Even if Lucio was a temporary General at the palace he was still a completely different status then Iolas and Royals don't have court magician as suitors. So his hopes remained low but he was happy to bide his time with Lucio. However little it would be. Iolas had to admit even with the teasing and snarky remarks that sometimes get out of hand he loved and even craved the other man's company. Sadly, love doesn't change status. Love doesn't guarantee a happy ending. His a master when it comes to disappointment and had learned his lesson the hard way.

So It was the last thing Iolas' expected when the taller man pulls out the biggest ring the magician has ever seen and gets down on one knee. Iolas' first thought is to pinch himself so he can wake up. Then when air fills his lungs he realizes he’s awake and this is happening. More than happening, he's been silent for far too long. All he can hear is the stinging sound of his building anxiety attack banging around in his head. The buzz is deafening and He can see that Lucio is speaking but he can't hear him.

You will just disappoint him. Iolas' thoughts curse. Better yet he'll disappoint you. A shaky breath leaves him and all he can do is blink and look at Lucio with watery eyes. "I-- I'm sorry please can you say that again." Iolas stops and closes his eyes just so he doesn't have to look at the ring that's almost blinding with its meaning.

Lucio's normal wolfish grin falters but only returns once he hears Iolas speak. "I said. We should get hitched, ya know?" Lucio sputters, shit. "Look. Like I was saying we're surrounded by losers, Pet. Who else am I gonna get to match me other than you huh? come on, look at me—“ he gestures to his hair and outfit before continuing “Then look at you! we're perfect for each other.. ya know?" Lucio now looks nervous as he speaks. Unable to keep eye contact. “..and.. I love your laugh."

This seems to pull Iolas' from his anxiety a little even enough to get him to let out a weak laugh. "What? what does that have to do with anything?" Lucio pouts and glares at his lover just a tiny bit. "I love your laugh! and I don't want anyone else to have it. I deserve it, I get you to do it most and I think you owe me. So like.." Lucio ushers Iolas' to the ring, his legs are starting to buckle. "I wouldn't admit this to anyone else but my knees aren't what they use to be so can we--" Iolas stops him with a curt turn, his shoulders shaking.

The blonde stands at his lovers reaction his whole body rigid. This was it. The rejection he warned himself about. He's ruined everything, his heart screams to take it all back. Iolas is probably laughing at the proposal and Lucio's tacky way of offering himself. It isn't until the sound of a stuffy nose echo through the silent night that Lucio realizes his lover is crying and instantly he steps forward a different kind of fear gripping his heart. " W-wait-- wait, why are you crying? You never cry--" He falters and fidgets his hands around his lover unsure if he wants to be held or not.

Iolas turns finally, his red puffy eyes are turned down in a grimace as they glisten in the dim light. "Yeah, you idiot I never cry and look at what you made me do." His tone is harsh but it's followed by a sad shake that ruins any intention of anger. "Lucio I... I don't know how to do this." Lucio's heart slows but he's thrown for a loop and Iolas can sense his confusion and clears his throat as he wipes his leaking eyes. "No one has ever, wanted me like this before. I don't know if I can-- How do you know you want this? What if I disappoint you? What if you get tired of me and regret ever meeting me? At least if we keep things like before you can just get rid of me if I'm too much and I won't have to--" Lucio stops Iolas this time as he brings his lover close by pulling on his crossed arms.

"You won't have to worry about falling in love?" The blonde answers with his own sense of sadness, his eyes looking down at their feet before meeting with Iolas' who only nods in response. Lucio is a bit thankful that his lover didn't outright say no and is at least contemplating the idea of things. "I had the same thoughts and honestly I don't know how I'm sure. I just... am." Lucio's normal bravado comes back now that he feels more secure in the conversation. "I know that I love seeing you every day. I know that I love sleeping with you every night. I know that I don't want anyone else to hold you the way I hold you and I know that you feel the same way about me." At that the blonde swallows hoping he isn't wrong. "But mostly I know I don't ever want you to leave. If you were to go, do you know how fucking boring this place would be? I would set the parlor on fire within minutes of you being gone." The cheeky grin is back and Iolas snorts at the idea and manages a smile as he is now fully embraced by his lover.

Lucio rests his head on top the shorter man’s and hums, kissing the top of it. Slowly he pulls Iolas back so he can look down at him. "But it's not just about what I want... you kinda need to want those things too." Now it's Iolas turn to nervously look away and slowly as the shorter man's courage builds he tightens his grip on Lucio's jacket and more tears roll down his face as the realization comes crashing onto him that he'd do anything to be with the man in front of him. Before He can answer he shoves his face into Lucio's jacket rubbing his head back and forth on the soft fabric. "You moron-- Of course I want all that."

The blonde can't resist the urge to tease the other man however and laughs to himself. "I'm sorry, could you say that again I couldn't hear you from inside my jacket." Iolas hits the taller man's chest with a laugh before he goes to wipe his damp eyes yet again. "You know for a fact that I said YES-- urgh, gods look at what you did to my make up how the hell am I going to fix this now--" Iolas' whining is stopped short by his lover picking him up in a searing kiss that continues as the blonde twirls them both. With a firm grip on Iolas' waist Lucio looks up at the magician with a smile that could blind the gods. "I wanna hear you say it." Iolas rolls his eyes at that. With most of his face red as a beet, a large pout crosses the silver-haired man's lips. He kicks his legs from his newfound lifted position.

"I have zero idea what you're talking about--" Iolas protests but Lucio shakes his head. "Say it or you are never leaving this gazebo." Iolas is about to rebuttal but the look in Lucio's eyes is that yes he is serious. Iolas' expression softens, even if it's despite himself. "Of course I'll marry you, LuLu." Lucio whispers a soft ‘yes!’ Before he bounces in his spot and spins the both of them once again but this time continues to spin around the whole gazebo. The blonde’s laughing slowly raises to excited cackling as they spin. Iolas can only laugh back and struggle against the crazy man holding him. "Stop--! Lulu Stop! we're gonna--" but it's too late. Lucio's legs trip over themselves and with zero grace they both tumble onto the hardwood floor.

Iolas rolls onto his back and groans, dizzy and sore his eyes dart over to the man beside him who is just as dazed. Slowly Iolas entwines their hands with a smile and Lucio is about to kiss his lover's fingers before he remembers the ring. The blonde springs forward, getting up like the fall meant absolutely nothing. Iolas however takes his time sitting up as his lover fumbles to find the ring he dropped.

Soon as it's found Lucio slides over, the scraping sound of the taller man's pants on the hardwood makes the magician giggle. Iolas has to give the other man sheer points for his enthusiasm. Pompously Iolas sticks his left hand out, to which Lucio plays along and kisses the other man's ring finger dramatically before slipping the large ring onto Iolas' hand.

Carefully Iolas' holds his hand out to the light and observes the sheer size of the ring and can't help but grin. Lucio practically radiates waves of anticipation. His cheeks flushed from their recent spinning but his eyes sparkle and scream that they crave his lovers attention.

"Was this the biggest ring they had?" Iolas wiggles his fingers, acting as if he's unimpressed. Lucio simply feeds back into him. "How dare you." He sneers, pulling Iolas into his lap as he sits, unable to be on his knees any longer. "I had this one custom ordered. Not only is it the biggest ring in stores, but it's also the biggest wedding ring, period." He speaks into the shorter man's neck before he kisses it, The count's tone never faltering. The very idea of that sends Iolas into a giggle fit. He knows for a fact that this ring physically cannot be the biggest ring ever but another part of him can see Lucio putting up a fight with store owners about the pitiful size of their rings to the point where he just orders them to make him a whole new size.

"Of course, I knew my Lulu would only get me the best. He’s not capable of anything less." Lucio preens in the praise and Iolas strokes the back of his fingers against his lover's face. For a moment they stay like that, both of them processing what exactly just happened and what this means for their future. Iolas is the first to break the silence with a soft hum as he presses against Lucio's chest. "Thank you... Lucio." the taller man responds by nuzzling his nose into the shorter man's hair with a confused hum. "I never thought I could do this...” Iolas voice wavers but only slightly as he takes Lucios hand in his. The weight of the ring feels odd but strangely comforting. “... but for the first time, I'm not scared." Lucio smiles at that. and squeezes his lover in his arms.

"Good. We can be fearless together."

[babyboywilson]

Chapter Twenty-Four (Tinsel and Tourists)

Word Count: 1,918 (another super long chapter, I just can’t stop myself. Chapter continued under the Read More)

Cas’ POV

Link to ao3 / Link to masterpost

When the doorbell rang on Christmas morning, Libby was up and out of her seat in record time. “I’ve got it!” she yelled, darting across Cas’ living room and throwing open the front door. “Sam!”

“Hey there Libby,” Cas heard Sam say, and as Cas stepped out into the hall he saw the taller man wrapping his best friend in a hug.

“Somehow I feel like I’m being replaced in the best friend department,” Cas fake sighed, before cracking out into a smile.

“Oh, please,” Libby said, rolling her eyes. “Not like you aren’t enjoying someone else’s company right now.”

As if on cue, Dean stepped into the house past Libby and Sam, and his eyes instantly found Cas. The second he saw Cas, Dean beamed, eyes lighting up and a loved-up look crossing his face. “Hey handsome,” Dean said softly, pulling Cas in by the waist and sneaking a hand up the back of his shirt. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas indeed,” Cas said with a laugh, rubbing his nose against Dean’s. His boyfriend. God. How was any of this even real? Cas leaned forward, sliding their lips together and humming a pleased sound against Dean’s mouth when Dean deepened the kiss. When they broke apart, Cas whispered a quiet, “Hi beautiful.”

“Gross. Can you guys not make out in front of us?” Libby teased, grabbing the bottle of wine from Sam’s hand and moving into the kitchen.

“Oh, no, we’re definitely going to continue to make out and make you be witness to it,” Dean replied, yanking Cas impossibly closer and kissing him again, slow and deep. Breaking the kiss, Dean nuzzled along Cas’ cheek. “I um- brought you something,” Dean murmured.

“I got you something, too,” Cas replied, sliding his hand into Dean’s and tugging him gently towards the Christmas tree in the living room. Cas reached under the tree, grabbing a silver present and handing it to Dean.

Dean made a little noise of surprise. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said, a tinge of red climbing up his cheeks.

“Shut up and open it,” Cas said, chewing on his lip as the nerves licked up inside his stomach. Was the gift too serious? Was it not serious enough? What did you buy your boyfriend of two days when you were already madly in love with him?

Dean slowly opened the box, untying the ribbon and reaching out to perch the bow on top of Cas’ head. “You know, regardless of what’s in here, you really are my present this year.” Cas made a face at the corniness, and Dean laughed, pulling Cas in and pecking him on the mouth. “I know it’s cliche, but I’m serious. I said it a few days ago, and I meant it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Castiel Novak.”

Cas felt like his heart was exploding; as if every single molecule in his body was vibrating with his love for Dean. “Love you. So much.”

Dean beamed at him again, and God, yep, Cas really and truly was so in love it ached deep in his bones.

Pulling off the lid, Dean peered inside, and his smile went from beaming to blinding. “Is that ice skates?” Dean asked, pulling the white skates out of the box.

Cas flushed dark red, nodding nervously. “I thought we could go again. Just us. I um- had them personalized with the date of our date on them. Because it was uh- the day I fell for you. Literally and metaphorically.”

“Cas,” Dean said, choking on the word.

“When we were on the ice together, before I physically fell on the ice with you… when we were skating around the edge and we were just talking and you held my hand… I fell for you. I mean, I knew I was falling before. I was head over heels for you before you even kissed me. But it was on that date when we kissed on the ice… I knew I wasn’t just falling anymore. I knew I was devastatingly in love with you. That there was no turning back. You had my heart,” Cas said quietly, thumb tracing patterns over Dean’s knee.

Dean lurched forwards, dragging Cas into a kiss so toe-curlingly good that Cas swore he’d never been kissed with that much intensity and love in his entire life. “You’re beautiful. God, Cas. You’re such a sap, but God, you’re absolutely…” Dean trailed off, reaching up with his free hand to trail his fingers across Cas’ cheek. “I love you. God. I’m so in love with you,” Dean muttered, pressing fast little kisses across Cas’ face.

“You um- you like them?”

“Love ‘em,” Dean said, pressing their foreheads together. “Does that mean more ice skating dates? Because I’m pretty sure you promised to teach me to skate as well as you do.”

With a soft laugh, Cas looped his arms around Dean’s neck, bumping their noses together softly. “As many ice skating dates as you want. As long as you promise to kiss me on the ice.”

“Oh baby, I promise to kiss you everywhere all the time,” Dean teased, and as if to prove his point, he tilted his head and captured Cas’ lips in another kiss. Dean was the one pulling back and breaking the kiss a few blissful seconds later. “Your turn to open your present.”

Chewing his lip, Cas ducked his head with a muttered, “Okay.”

Dean gently nudged a box into Cas’ hands, and Cas sucked in a deep breath as he looked at the bright blue wrapping paper. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, and as he gently tore the paper, he began to feel the nerves kick up again; not even sure this time as to why he was so nervous.

But when he opened the box and looked inside, he felt his heart skitter out of his chest. The newest edition of the Montpelier Culinary School’s cookbook sat inside, with recipes from the chefs and the newest batch of students to graduate inside. Cas felt like he was going to shake apart. Dean had been listening. To everything he said. Even the parts about his dreams of being a chef.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, voice cracking on the name. “How? When?”

Dean reached up and settled his hand on the back of Cas’ neck, gently bringing their foreheads back together again. “Yesterday, when you were working. I told you I needed to run an errand for a fellow hunter and that I’d be back by dinner. I drove out to Montpelier and went to their culinary school- which is amazing, by the way. You mentioned how you’d been thinking about going back, but you weren’t sure. I just wanted you to know I support you if you decide to go back to culinary school. You’re an amazing cook, Cas, and someday I know you’ll be an even more amazing chef. And if there’s anyone who can cook the recipes from this book, it’s you,” Dean explained, voice tender and loving.

“You drove all the way to Montpelier because I told you I went to culinary school there before I dropped out?” Cas asked in shock, tears welling in his eyes.

Dean shrugged, like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just cracked Cas’ heart open until it was beating solely for Dean. Like he hadn’t just made Cas fall even deeper in love.

At a loss for words, Cas kissed Dean. Kissed him and kissed him until his lungs burned, and then he kissed him some more. When they broke apart, both gasping for air, Cas felt like his face was going to break from how hard he was smiling.

“I’ll cook you something from the book tonight,” Cas said, grinning like a fool.

“I’m looking forward to it, sunshine,” Dean replied, fingers dancing up into Cas’ hair and stroking along his scalp softly.

“Hey, if you guys are done being all sickeningly loved up over each other, are you going to join us out back or not?” Libby called from the back door.

“Out back? What’s out back?” Dean asked, looking at Cas questioningly.

“I have a small fire pit in the backyard, and it became a tradition years ago that Lib and I toast marshmallows and make s’mores on Christmas morning,” Cas explained, standing up and offering Dean a hand. “That is, if you’d care to join me?”

“In making s’mores? Hell yes,” Dean replied, taking Cas’ hand and eagerly jumping up. Hand in hand, Cas and Dean made their way outside, where Sam and Libby were already tucked around the small fire; stainless steel sticks in their hands as they toasted their marshmallows over the fire.

“God, that already smells good,” Dean said, grabbing a couple sticks and some marshmallows, handing the extra supplies over to Cas. “Do I want to know how this became a tradition?” he asked, looking between Cas and Libby.

“She started it,” Cas said, pointing a finger at the same time Libby cried, “He totally started it.”

“Ah, so you’re both weirdos then?” Dean asked, grinning widely.

Cas stepped into Dean’s space, snagging the stick from his hand before he could stick his marshmallow into the fire. “If we’re such weirdos, then I guess you don’t want to eat this s’more. Oh well, more for me.”

“Don’t you dare,” Dean said, pushing up into Cas’ space, and kissing him. Just as Cas started to sink into the kiss, Dean yanked the s’mores stick from his hand and broke the kiss. “Ha. Nice try, handsome, but I win,” Dean teased, moving to hover his marshmallow over the flame.

Cas smiled brightly, sidling up next to Dean and starting to roast his own marshmallow. “Important question here. If you answer wrong, I’m breaking up with you. Burn the marshmallow, or evenly roast it?” Cas asked, nudging Dean’s shoulder with his own.

“You’re gonna break up with me if I answer wrong?”

“Mmhmm. Very serious question here, Dean. It’s make or break stuff,” Cas said in faux-seriousness.

“No pressure or anything then,” Dean said with a laugh. “Even dark brown, but not charred.”

Cas fake pondered Dean’s answer, but he broke out into a smile after a few seconds. “Right answer. Thank God, I don’t have to break up with you.”

Dean heaved a large sigh, leaning to press a kiss to Cas’ cheek. “Thank God, because I have no intention of letting you go anytime soon. You’re mine.”

The surge of warmth that burst through Cas’ veins had nothing to do with the crackling fire. They spent the next hour making s’mores and sharing stories around the fire. Cas took a bite of his s’more, feeling the marshmallow ooze fluff across his lips.

“Let me get that for you,” Dean said, darting forward to kiss the sugary treat from Cas’ lips. That led to them making out, and Sam and Libby jeering at them good-naturedly.

After that, Cas and Dean started sharing s’mores, leaning over and stealing kisses between each bite. Curled up by the fire in Dean’s arms with the sweet rush of chocolate and sugar, Cas had never had a more perfect Christmas. And judging by the way Dean kept pressing kisses into Cas’ mouth, Cas knew Dean felt the same way.

“Best Christmas ever,” Cas murmured into Dean’s mouth as they finished their fifth s’more.

“Best Christmas ever,” Dean echoed, leaning in and chasing the sugar high of Cas’ kisses.

Tag List Part 1 Below- (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!)

Tag List: @cas-deserved-so-much-more @hello-x-sunshine​ @bibelphegor​ @likepurplemuses​ @expectingtofly​ @neo-neo-neo​ @shadowywerewolfqueen​ @a-sweet-indisposition​ @feraladoration​ @xojo​

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[alolowrites]

Small Competition

Summary: Your boyfriend encounters a young boy who has a puppy crush on you. 

Author’s Note: Here’s a little drabble to celebrate my 200 followers milestone. This is just one part of it; the other part is sending requests for the Hero Camp Bingo event! Please click here for more information! Just a heads up, it is a BNHA x F!Reader drabble. 

Enjoy!

Bakugou

The trees slouch in odd yoga positions. One bird roasts midair. A kid’s sneaker melts onto the sizzling pavement, and she looks confused. Summer is not showing any mercy as it ravages Japan with its unbearable heat and humidity. 

If you can’t beat the heat, then you best believe you’ll avoid it. 

That is why you’re currently in a lovely ice cream shop instead of suffering outside in the pits of hell. Your table sits in a private corner, the glass window offering a perfect view of the bubbling streets. Someone cracks an egg onto the pan and scrambles it around. 

You shrug. You’ve seen weirder things. 

“Mmmh!” The creamy goodness blesses your taste buds. “Yup, this ice cream was exactly what I needed.”

Bakugou snorts, “That shit better be good after you dragged me over here, Xena.”

“Oh, shut up.” 

Someone screams your name. You turn around to see a familiar face and smile, “Naoyuki! Is that you?” 

A boy, no older than ten years old, dashes to your table. Bakugou takes a bite from his soft serve and eyes the kid. Nothing too suspicious until he hugs you and holds your hands far too long for Bakugou’s liking. He obnoxiously clears his throat. 

“Oh, Katsuki, this is Naoyuki!” Innocent eyes twinkle at Bakugou. “We’re neighbors, and sometimes I babysat for him before moving into the dorms. Naoyuki, this is my boyfriend, Katsuki. Don’t mind the mean look—he won’t bite.” 

The mean look never disappears. 

You pat the boy’s head. “Listen, I’m going to buy some water. Why don’t you wait here until I get back.” 

“Okay!” The moment you leave, Naoyuki’s head snaps at Bakugou. His doe-like eyes turn into cold steel. Without blinking, his lean body slips onto the empty seat. Two hands cooly slide on the metal table. He’s like a businessman getting ready to negotiate a strict contract. Unsurprisingly, the boy cuts to the chase. 

“Stay away from her; she’s mine.” 

Bakugou’s nostrils flare. “You got some nerve, brat.” 

“I saw her first!” 

“The fuck does that have to do with anything?” Bakugou slams a fist on the table, and the entire floor shakes. “I’m her boyfriend, so deal with it. Look for someone your age, dumbass!” 

An intense staring contest commences. You are oblivious to the thick tension clogging the air vents. Bakugou immediately senses you and yanks your arm. Falling on his lap, you feel his arm cage you against him. Not once did he break his gaze from Naoyuki, who is fuming. His entire face brightens up like a red hot chili pepper. 

Try me, fucker, Bakugou gloats with a smug expression.

Shinsou

Flowers bloom under the mighty sun.

The weather is perfect—not too hot, not too cold. Even Ms. Goldilocks would approve of this beautiful spring afternoon. You and Shinsou stroll through the park hand in hand until a large tree emerges from the distance. The green leaves dance above your heads as you two eat in peace. Half an hour later, you find yourself curled up against a sleepy Shinsou.

A cheery voice distracts you from your reading.

“Naoyuki, is that you?” Shinsou hears the grass rustle and peeks at the newcomer. He stays quiet when you give the boy a quick hug. “You’ve gotten taller! Sorry for not visiting too often; school is such a pain.”

“I haven’t hit my growth spurt yet,” he chirps. “Sadly, I don’t see you a lot, but you go to U.A., which is so cool! Also, who’s your friend?”

Shinsou is wide awake now. The kid gives him a weird vibe.  

“Oh, this is Hitoshi, my boyfriend.” Naoyuki’s cheerful face twitches; Shinsou notices before the boy regains his composure. “We both go to U.A.”

“I remember him from the Sports Festival.”

An ice cream cart pulls into the park. Feeling in the mood for a sweet treat, you ask if anyone wanted a popsicle stick. Naoyuki requests a cherry flavor while Shinosu shakes his head. Once out of earshot, the boy’s hostility breaks through his friendly façade.

“Break up with her.”

Shinsou blinks. “What?”

“You heard me.” Naoyuki puffs out his chest in a bravado fashion. Shinsou chuckles and leans back against the tree trunk. “I’m serious! I saw her first, and you stole her from me!”

“Listen, kid,” Shinsou yawns. “It’s adorable that you have a puppy crush, but we’re not breaking up any time soon.”

“I’m not leaving until you do!”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“No, I don’t—” A daze expression falls across Naoyuki’s face. His eyes are gray, and his mouth hangs wide open. A little drool rolls down his chin. Shinsou nonchalantly scratches the back of his neck.

“I want you to go home.”

Naoyuki is an obedient soldier; he numbly turns around and staggers away. Shinsou sighs as he watches the annoying flea disappear behind the green hills. You bounce back with two popsicles in hand. Your eyes search for Naoyuki and pout, “Where did he go?”

“His friends stopped by.” Shinsou rubs his eye. “They asked if he wanted to play. Kid said ‘yeah’ and left.”

“Aww…he forget his popsicle.” You lower yourself on the blanket. “Do you want it?”

Shinsou shrugs. “Might as well.”

He reaches over to grab the treat. You snuggle beside him and happily enjoy the sweet popsicle. Shinsou drapes his arm over your shoulders as he replays the conversation in his head…

…and a tiny smirk curls on his lips.

Kaminari

Loud music blares through the speakers scattered around the room. You adjust the laser tag vest and make sure everything is working correctly. For weeks Kaminari suggested doing something fun with the rest of the gang. His idea of fun is holding a friendly game of laser tag.

“Self-care, guys!” He chimes and ultimately wins everyone over. Yes, even Bakugou, after Sero gaslights him by saying he’ll be the first one out. In typical fashion, Bakugou yells he’ll go and beat all their asses. Outside the game room, Bakugou glares at the tape dispenser.

“I’m taking you down.”

“We’re on the same team, bro!”

You snicker at the interaction. Kaminari stands beside you and opens his mouth to say something when a little boy’s voice interrupts him. His smile brightens when you wave.

“Hey, Naoyuki! What are you doing here?”

“My friend’s older cousin invited me for some laser tag,” he pipes and shows off his gear. “We’re waiting for Game Room 2 to be ready.”

“No way!” A thumb jerks over your shoulder. “My friends and I are playing in Game Room 2 also. Guess you’re on the other team.”

Kaminari slings his arm around you. “Let’s hope you guys know how to duck and cover. We got a ticking time bomb on our team.”  

You slap his chest. “Ignore him, Naoyuki. He’s kidding.”

Kaminari sends a lopsided grin, and the boy politely laughs. However, his fake smile falters when the arm does not let go of you. The closeness bothers him. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is Denki, my boyfriend,” you clarify; Kaminari beams like a happy puppy—he’ll never get tired of you saying that. Suddenly you remember something. “Damn, I forgot my blaster doesn’t work. Let me go change it real quick before the match starts!”

As you sprint away, Naoyuki marches forward, which takes Kaminari by surprise. He arches an eyebrow at the pudgy finger angrily shaking below him. Usually, Kaminari is excellent with kids; they love him! Except for Naoyuki, whose menacing face almost puts Bakugou’s to shame.

“Uhhh, you okay there, buddy?”

“She belongs with me.”

The words take a moment to sink in Kaminari’s head. Soon, the teenager laughs as if Naoyuki told a hilarious joke. He wipes his imaginary tears away and slowly realizes that the boy is serious. Kaminari awkwardly coughs into the tense air.

“Ummm…you do know she’s too old for you, kiddo.”

“Like that will stop me,” Naoyuki snorts. A sweat-drop rolls down Kaminari’s forehead. Seconds later, another finger points at the stunned teen. “Let’s make a deal: if you win, she’s all yours. But if I win, then you two break up.”

“Fine,” Kaminari agrees and places his hand on Naoyuki’s shoulder. The boy jumps when he feels a tiny zap—an alarm rings. Naoyuki frantically pats his vest and panics as his sensors malfunction.

“What did you do?!”

“Sorry, bro. All is fair in love and war!”

And man, Kaminari is here to win this war.

Thank you for reading! My first story for the Hero Camp Bingo event will be uploaded this weekend!! Stay tune for that! 

[tunedtostatic]

galaxies of my heart

Vikady, also featuring Sana and a brief Krejjh cameo

CW: injury, aftermath of torture, painkiller drugs, brief domestic violence mention (not named characters), food, discussion of medical trauma & painkiller controversies

As she speaks, one of her hands makes what could be the beginning of a motion to reach for Arkady, then folds back into her lap. Arkady wonders if Sana gave her a crash course on Not Touching Your Loved Ones Without Warning After They’ve Been Tortured Because They Might Freak Out, or if that was something she already knew from her time as a medic. Either possibility feels depressingly plausible.

I finished my first tscosi fic! In which injuries are cared for, miscommunications are miscommunicated, assumptions are countered, and kisses are kissed. Title (and lyrics referenced in the fic) are from “space girl” by Frances Forever, even though it’s kind of a fluffy song relative to some of the subject matter, but not to worry, I have a permit [unfolds a sheet of paper that reads “I was working on my Vikady fanmix in the morning the day I started this fic and got it stuck in my head big time”]

Edit: I realized 9k is a little long to be easily navigable in post form so I archived this as well. I just learned when attempting to post a credited picrew that Tumblr is still hiding posts with links, but it’s at archiveofourown dot org, /works/31851859.

Edit the second: Re-reading “adrenaline makes you do stupid things” by jaggedwolf and I'm 90% sure I accidentally stole a couple things from there rather than the general primordial soup of my brain (the line "That can't be comfortable" and maybe the general concept of Arkady making sure she gets hurt before the person she's been captured with), so adding this to give credit where due to a really great fic that you should definitely read if you haven't already.

~

The first time Arkady surfaces, everything around her is still coated in a haze as though she’s dreaming. The room is quiet, and when she takes a sharp breath in, all of a sudden Violet is leaning over her, her hair swinging near Arkady’s face.

“You’ve got very dynamic hair,” Arkady says, or at least tries to say, and then she’s asleep again.

The next time she wakes up, she wakes up completely, although her mind still feels a little foggy. Her body aches, and—yeah, based on that ceiling, she’s definitely in the medbay of the Iris 2. Which means that they made it back to the ship, or at least that Arkady did—

Fear surges through her, and she peers back and forth. Her eyes land on Sana, who is sitting to the right of her bed, crocheting something that sprawls across her lap in chaotic loops.

Her intention is to say Sana’s name, but she can’t even make it through the first syllable, emitting a sound that sounds more like the “Ssss” of the litter of feral kittens Brian and Krejjh found that one time. Great job, Patel, you’d make a better hissing kitten than a first mate. Krejjh is going to have to stop calling you First Mate Patel and start calling you Feral Kitten Patel—

The thought of Krejjh is enough to make Arkady’s whole mind flinch. Krejjh—

The feral kitten hiss must have been loud enough for Sana to hear, though, because she’s dropping her crocheting to her lap, looking toward Arkady.

“Kady,” she says warmly, at the same time as Arkady croaks, “Krejjh—”

“Is fine.” Sana’s hand comes up to rest on the pillow next to Arkady’s cheek, a steadying presence, though she doesn’t touch her.

“They were with me.”

“They were.” Sana nods. “But they’re here and they’re not hurt. Hanging out with Brian in the kitchen as we speak.” She glances through the medbay door before her gaze bounces back to Arkady, and it’s such a familiar Sana kind of motion that Arkady feels the remainder of her panic fade slightly. Speaking of octopuses of myth and legend, that’s Sana, one mental tendril keeping track of the approximate status of each member of her crew at any given time.

“How are you feeling?” Sana continues. “Park said you were in a lot of pain before you passed out. Violet has you on a painkiller drip, but she’s using the minimum the way you always want. If you’re in pain, we can raise the dose.”

Arkady turns her attention more fully to her body. Pain and sensation are present, but muffled, as though they are far away. Ribs: hurt. Arm: hurts significantly. Legs: hurt, but only a little.

It’s bearable. “I’ve had worse.”

“Kady—”

“I’m fine, Sana. Just feels like…what do you call them…colors, purple, ouch…bruises.” She shakes her head, then stills with a wince. “The others?”

“Everyone’s safe.” Sana pats the pillow where her hand rests next to Arkady’s cheek. “Park found you and Krejjh before anyone laid a finger on them. He got out fine, too. You’re the only one who was hurt, Kady.”

Arkady studies Sana’s face. “How…bad is it?”

“Six fractures, no serious tissue injuries.” Sana’s voice is gentle but matter-of-fact. “We’re going to pick up some skeletal accelerators next time we’re on-planet. Violet thinks that with those in the mix, the worst,” she gestures to the cast on Arkady’s right wrist, “should be mended in about two months.”

Arkady closes her eyes. One day, everything is fine, the next, a few backwater IGR assholes get the drop on them, and now she’s going to be out of commission for two months.

Still. Better her than Krejjh.

The thought is an icily familiar one, although yesterday she was limited to the grimmer Better just the two of us than the others. Krejjh was tied up on the other side of the room, and when the IGR goons got bored beating on Arkady, or kicked her in the wrong place and just killed her, they’d move on to Krejjh, and there was nothing Arkady could do about it—

Arkady’s eyes fly open, and she turns her head to nudge it clumsily into Sana’s hand. Sana cups Arkady’s cheek in her palm, thumb brushing over her cheekbone, wiping away wetness. When Arkady exhales, her breath is shaky. Stupid. They’re all safe now.

“They didn’t hurt Krejjh?” Her voice doesn’t sound like her own, unsteady and small.

“They didn’t hurt Krejjh.”

“Can I walk? Before the two months?” Her voice is still so small. Stupid.

Sana brushes Arkady’s temple with her fingertips, her calloused palm still warm against Arkady’s cheek. “Violet says she thinks you’ll be able to use a walking cast in three or four weeks. Or a little earlier, depending on how quickly the accelerators work their magic.”

Arkady keeps her eyes closed. “Those aren’t cheap.”

“That’s what rainy-day funds are for.”

“Do we even have a rainy-day fund anymore?”

“I will shake Other Violet down for loose change if I have to, Kady.” Sana’s fingers caress her temple again, and there is steel in her voice as she says, “This is my ship, and when one of my crew needs something, I find a way.”

“I know you do.” Arkady opens her eyes, though she finds that her eyelids seem to have grown heavier in the intervening minutes. She blinks sleepily at Sana. “You’re such a good octopus.”

Sana beams. “Thank you, Kady! I…have some questions,” she adds, “but they can wait until later, I think.”

Arkady’s eyelids are so heavy, but there’s one other thing she needs to ask. “Vi’?”

“Violet’s okay, too. She’s been taking care of you since yesterday, but I shooed her off to get some sleep.”

Arkady smiles. “’nks, S’na.”

Sana smiles back. “We’re all okay,” she says tenderly, “and if anyone out there tries to change that, I will demolish them.”

Arkady nods against Sana’s hand, straining to keep her eyes open.

“We’re all okay, Kady,” Sana repeats, and Arkady lets herself slip into sleep.

~

There are hours of restless dreams, and a dreamlike interlude where someone gently shakes her awake, holding her head up and helping her drink a medicine cap of chalky fluid, before she slips back into dreams that finally segue into deep sleep.

There is quiet music playing the next time she wakes up. She can remember where she is this time, and she lies with her eyes closed for a minute, enjoying the sound of the instrumental jazz track she recognizes from Krejjh and Brian’s Infinite Space-Themed Playlist. In the darkness behind her eyes, she doesn’t have to face the fact that she can’t walk, or run, or kick, or punch, or protect the crew, or—

Okay, maybe the space behind her closed eyelids isn’t as restful as it could be. Arkady opens her eyes.

Violet is sitting beside her bed with one leg tucked up on the chair, reading a tablet. A few strands of hair have fallen from behind her ear to brush against her cheek, and she’s biting her lower lip the way she sometimes does when she’s focused on something. Brian’s little retro radio music player is sitting on the bedside table, continuing to ooze soft jazz as Violet lifts an absentminded finger to tap to the next page, then curls her hand back into her soft sweater.

Yeah, eyes open? Definitely an improvement.

She should probably say Violet’s name, regardless of how endearing it is to watch her read. Before she has a chance to do so, though, she must breath loudly or make some kind of noise, because Violet looks up, her face crinkling into a tired smile.

“Hey,” she says softly.

Arkady smiles. “Hey, Liu. Good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you, too.” Violet’s smile quavers for a second. “Really, really good.”

Arkady tries to make her voice reassuring. “Hey, I’m okay, Violet, huh? It’s gonna be okay.”

Violet rolls her eyes, a small smile blossoming on her lips. “You’re the one in the medbay bed, Arkady. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

As she speaks, one of her hands makes what could be the beginning of a motion to reach for Arkady, then folds back into her lap. Arkady wonders if Sana gave her a crash course on Not Touching Your Loved Ones Without Warning After They’ve Been Tortured Because They Might Freak Out, or if that was something she already knew from her time as a medic. Either possibility feels depressingly plausible.

“It sounds like you have been taking care of me.” Arkady smiles again. “Sana said you were here with me all night until she made you get some rest.” She thinks back, trying to pin down a faint memory. “I remember seeing you, leaning over me?”

“Yeah, you woke up really briefly last night.” Violet wrinkles up her forehead in that adorable way that she does. “You said something that sounded like, um…‘You’ve have hair’?”

Arkady grins. “Well shit, Liu, you sure do have hair, don’t you?”

Violet laughs, shaking her head back and forth. Her hair bobs around as though a breeze is passing through the medbay, and Arkady laughs too, then winces as the pain in her ribs flares.

Violet stills instantly. “You have some fractured ribs—”

“Yeah, kinda put that together.” Arkady tries to breathe with the minimum possible amount of motion.

The expression on Violet’s face makes it look like she’s in pain herself. “Would you like me to up the dose on your painkiller drip?” she asks softly.

“Nah.” Along with the flaring pain in her ribs, both of Arkady’s legs and her right wrist have that same itching, burning ache. The rest of her body is just sore, like she’s covered in bruises, which she probably is. “Uh, speaking of which, though. Could I get a rundown on what’s, you know, busted? Sana said I had…six? seven?...fractures, but we didn’t get into specifics beyond the two-month limit.” She grimaces a little at the thought.

“Six,” Violet confirms immediately, before adding, with an abashed smile, “I mean, not that that makes things that much better than seven?”

Arkady resists the impulse to laugh again, confining herself to a snort. “Can’t argue that point.”

“In answer to your question,” Violet begins, slipping into her calm medic tone of voice, “you have two cracked ribs and fractures to your left foot and right ankle. They broke your right wrist pretty badly, and I’m going to need to be very careful about injecting any accelerators there, especially if we can’t find an actual doctor on-planet to do it, so it might be a little more than two months before any, uh, heavy use, but you should have the hard cast off earlier than that.”

“Right.” Arkady inhales through her nose; exhales through her mouth. “Could have been worse, right?” At least she isn’t blubbering the way she was with Sana, but her voice still drops too small and quiet on the last word.

“It could have.” Violet’s own reply is almost a whisper, and Arkady silently swears at herself for her choice of phrasing.

When she looks up, though, Violet doesn’t look weepy.

She looks furious.

“Hey, you okay there, Liu?” Arkady stares at Violet’s clenched jaw and balled fists. “You look like you’re about to blow a gasket.”

Violet laughs a little, flexing her fingers and curling her hands more loosely back against her sweater. “Did you pick that one up from Tripathi?”

“That’s not a mechanic expression. Everyone uses that expression.”

Violet gives her a skeptical look.

“Okay, yeah, I may have picked it up from the captain. It’s still a normal-person expression, though.”

Violet chuckles, and they both lapse into silence.

This is nice, Arkady tells herself. Spending time with Violet is nice. It’s nice, it’s pleasant, it’s a way to distract herself from the itching, burning ache in her limbs and the creeping dread of knowing that if the ship is boarded, Arkady can’t even run, much less protect anyone else.

“Speaking of Tripathi,” Violet says with a smile, “I should give you an update on the latest, ahem, on-ship situation. Our captain has declared that next time she has a free moment she’s going to tear out that weird shallow closet in the hall next to Park’s room and put in inset cabinets for towels and stuff so Park and RJ and I don’t have to cross the ship for them. But when RJ found out, they said…”

Arkady tries to listen to Violet’s narration of Sana and RJ’s stalemate about the cabinets, smiling at the appropriate points while keeping a lid on the sinking feeling of knowing that for not days but weeks, she’ll be able to do jack-all do protect either Sana or RJ, or Violet, who is sitting here smiling at Arkady with love and trust in her eyes as though half the universe isn’t out to get them here in their one fragile ship that Violet wouldn’t even be on if Arkady hadn’t tricked her onto it in the first place—

She shoves the thoughts away, focusing on formulating a reply to Violet’s story. “Well, if it devolves into fisticuffs, Sana could take them, but if Sana calls a vote, I’m pretty sure Brian and Krejjh will side with RJ about the sheet music, and I don’t know what or whether Park would care.” She grins. “So, even odds.”

Violet snorts. “Well, I’ll keep you apprised, assuming none of the combatants wander in here to make their case to you themselves.”

“Medbay and a show?”

“On this ship? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Arkady grins again. “I don’t know why Krejjh thinks being an outlaw is boring. The way we live, we practically produce our own shampoo.”

Violet snorts again before adding, in the kind of giggle-whisper Arkady most closely associates with grade-school gossip, “I can’t believe they got RJ into Sh'th Hremreh.”

“I know.” Arkady bites back another grin. “I mean, I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Krejjh can be very persuasive.”

“If by ‘being persuasive’ you mean ‘talking loudly and enthusiastically about a piece of media until everyone in their general vicinity is compelled by gravitational media force to watch the thing in question,’ then yes, I guess you could refer to it that way.”

“I notice it hasn’t worked on you yet.” Arkady raises an eyebrow. “Or has it?”

“No, I have not dipped into Sh'th Hremreh.” Violet raises an eyebrow. “Yet.”

Arkady bites down on another chest-killing laugh before it can escape, glancing toward the radio on the bedside table. “Speaking of Brian and Krejjh creations. The notorious Infinite Space-Themed Playlist, huh?”

Violet smiles, gazing at Arkady tenderly. “You seemed a little restless in your sleep, and I’ve always hated total quiet when I’m sick, so I thought maybe it’d be nice to put on some background music.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Arkady pushes away an obscure flash of annoyance at the sentimentality of Violet taking the time to put on this playlist for an asleep Arkady as though something as trivial as music is a priority when Arkady is down for the count and Krejjh is doubtless drained from yesterday themself and the whole crew is going to have to figure out how to scrape by and cover piloting shifts and handle everything with no security officer and a stressed pilot and a tired medic and—

She shoves the annoyance aside, telling herself not to be an ass. There are literal studies showing that music is good for mental and physical health, right? And she sure as shit could use as much distraction as possible from the ache of her ribs and her ankle and her messed-up wrist. Having a playlist on is nice. This is nice.

Holst’s The Planets has come on, making for a somewhat grim background compared with the rest of the playlist, and Violet leans forward to jab irritably at the advance button until a benign rock song begins.

Arkady gives her an inquiring look, and Violet sighs, biting her lip again.

“I am so angry,” she says finally. “About what they did to you.”

“You and me both, trust me.”

Violet sighs, slumping in her chair. “You and me aren’t the only ones who are. Krejjh was pretty…shaken. Brian and Sana have been there for them, obviously,” she adds hastily, “and they’re doing fine. We can take care of each other. We are taking care of each other. The last thing I want to do is make you worry about us. But…” She trails off. “This isn’t just another day on the Iris. Not for any of us.”

“Well, that’s why the IGR does what they do,” Arkady mutters, closing her eyes. “Torture gets results.”

Violet sounds startled. “Every credible study in the universe has shown that torture doesn’t work. You said yourself—”

Arkady opens her eyes. “Torturing someone to interrogate them doesn’t produce reliable information. People know that. That’s not what it’s for. Torture is popular across the universe, through history, because it punishes people. Controls them. Their families. Whole societies.” She wouldn’t have to explain this to Sana. “When it’s on the table, you live your whole life under a threat. The actual torturing makes the people doing it feel powerful and good, and in the environment it creates, everyone else is easier to control. Win-win.”

Violet’s eyes have gone all huge and empathetic. “Arkady—” she whispers.

Something about that look always gets under Arkady’s skin. “Calm down,” she snaps. “I know you’re incapable of not freaking out when I talk about my childhood, but no, I’m not implying I was beaten up as a kid. The guards mostly just beat on adults; I think they knew that if they went after kids too often, enough people would’ve stood up against them regardless of losses. Or hey, maybe it was a vestige of human decency. Kinda doubt it, though.” She gestures vaguely with her good hand, careful not to pull at the IV. “I mean, of course I got beat up by other kids a few times, but just in a normal way, not in a torture way—Point is, yeah, I’ve known this stuff for a long time, but it’s not like you’re a stranger to it, right? You’ve spent your entire adult life under the IGR. You knew what was happening to some of the people who were disappearing.”

Violet is staring silently at her with that look of horrified concern, but hey, at least Violet’s overempathetic mind jumping directly to Cresswin as an explanation of Arkady’s knowledge on this subject is arguably preferable to her thinking through the percentage of Arkady’s life spent in Special Forces and then as an IGR guard herself, a train of logic that she finds herself hoping Violet doesn’t follow.

But that isn’t the right way to think about it, is it, her brain points out a moment later, the way it does whenever she considers discretely concealing the most hideous parts of herself from Violet. Violet is dating her. She deserves to know what she’s gotten herself into.

“It was never like…this,” she starts. “It was never me in a room with a helpless person, hurting them. But you know I was Special Forces during the war. You know I was a guard on Telemachus. Yes, I grew up on a prison planet and it’s all very sad but once you get over your latest shock about that—you’re a scientist, you can do the math and figure out that I don’t only know how this works from one side of it.”

Violet’s eyes are getting progressively wider, and Arkady drops her gaze to stare fixedly at her own hands. “They didn’t train us on the details of it; not…techniques. I mean, I don’t doubt they had people for that, but that would’ve been above my pay grade. But me, us, those goons who got the drop on us yesterday, we’re instructed pretty clearly in, ha, ‘maintaining control over a noncompliant population.’ Not like it’s just a few backwater goons breaking bones, either. When I was a guard—”

It isn’t even that her voice breaks, not really. It’s more of a stumble over the sudden realization that her voice should be breaking, or shaking, or anything other than steady and clear.

“When I was a guard, we all knew that some of the people we were guarding would be ferried to the more, ha, specialized options. Zone Z isn’t a secret.” Her voice, still flat, is rising. “And during the war…I can’t pretend that what I did in combat was better. I killed a lot of people, Violet. I killed a lot of people and they will never be alive again. You can’t say that that’s better than being a professional torturer. I can’t pretend that, and I can’t pretend some of my unit and some the people leading us…I can’t pretend that they didn’t do…” She stares down at her body. “This kind of thing.”

Silence. Arkady forces herself to look up.

Violet is staring at her in horror, but, for once, Arkady at least agrees that it’s justified.

She can feel herself breathing hard, and her face is wet again, which is frankly an indictment of her as much as anything else in this conversation. Crying to your girlfriend for sympathy about the horrible things you’ve done to other people isn’t exactly a good look.

“Look,” she says. “Some of this will haunt me until the day I die, and that’s good. It means I’m still human; it means…it doesn’t matter what it means. It’s what I need to do whether it means anything or not. I should be haunted. I think even Sana would agree with that.” She sighs. “I can figure out a way to live with this shit, and I do, but you signing up to…you know…see…someone who you knew was a smuggler and a killer doesn’t mean you thought through the implications of the IGR part of the equation before you asked me out.” Her voice is rising in irritation even though Violet is the last person in this medbay who deserves it. “I’m not the most mobile right now, but this is your medbay, I think you can find the door—”

“Arkady.”

Arkady looks up again. Violet is making steady eye contact with her. The horror hasn’t all gone out of her expression, but her voice is firm, not panicked. “I knew, when I started going out with you, that you had been a soldier with the IGR.”

“Okay, but you also assumed anyone who’d fought in the war was a ‘war hero,’ so you’ll forgive me if I have my doubts that you grasped what—”

“Arkady.” Violet’s voice is louder now, but still very level. “In case you need the reminder, I was fully aware of both your history and what the IGR was capable of the day I asked you out. You know, the day we were fleeing New Jupiter in a stolen IGR ship? That day?” A faint note of humor has entered Violet’s voice, though it disappears as she continues, “I’m going to leave for five minutes, to go to the bathroom and splash water on my face, not for good. I’ll have my communicator if you need anything.”

“Oh.” Arkady stares at her. “Okay?” she manages.

Violet walks out of the medbay, and Arkady stares blankly at the ceiling until her footsteps reenter. As promised, the hair around her face looks damp, but she looks calmer, more settled. She sets a glass of something on the bedside table.

“I brought you some juice, which you should be able to have now that you’re up and talking, but—” She sighs. “We should probably discuss this first.”

Arkady watches her.

“Arkady, I…” For the first time since her calm monologue before leaving the room, Violet looks uncertain, then presses on. “Like I said. I did know that you had been a guard with the IGR, and I did know more or less what that meant. And I knew—” She rubs her face with one hand. “Well, I didn’t know, it’s not like you can ever know with anyone, when I was a paramedic I saw cases of domestic violence where you never would’ve—anyway. I thought that I knew that you weren’t the kind of person who hurt people for your own satisfaction, and that felt like enough.” Her eyebrows crease together. “You make me feel safe. You always have.”

Arkady can feel her face beginning to get soaked again. All the things that she feels are careening around inside her, as though her heart is a ship in a bottle and somehow, within the glass, someone has conjured a storm.

“And it…sounds like I was right?” Violet lets out a breath that could almost be a shaky laugh. “You never…you’re saying you never did to anyone else…the kind of thing that was just done to you.”

She opens her mouth again, then hesitates, her words becoming slower and more contemplative.

“You’re right, though. I’m not sure I…that in the time after I’d realized the IGR was a lot less than less than perfect, I’m not sure I ever thought through the degree to which you, as a guard, would have been complicit in…those things. And…” She sighs again. “You’re right. I do think of people who fought in the war as heroes. I mean, I never really had a chance to—or, no, I can’t sit here and claim that I never had a chance. I never let myself think about how likely it was that some of the people fighting for us were…how did you put it. Specialized at things that make me sick even to think about. But also…”

She drops her gaze to her lap.

“I…I know that you killed Dwarnians. People. I know that a lot of soldiers killed a lot of people. I mean, that’s what war means, right?” She gives another shaken almost-laugh. “And I’m not—I’ve never been the kind of person who celebrates other people dying—”

“I know you’re not, Violet.” Violet is a biologist and a medic. Her work is the stuff of life, not death.

Violet slumps lower into her chair. “Yeah. But…because those deaths feel…felt…feel…partially justified to me, because the Dwarnians were trying to conquer us…maybe I let that make me forget a little that those deaths are still…deaths.”

She lifts her face, looking Arkady in the eye, and Arkady isn’t sure what she sees there. “Sometimes I wonder whether, irrespective of everything else about our lives—” Violet makes a swirly motion with her hand, as though to encapsulate the distances between worlds. “I wonder if you always would have been the kind of person who doesn’t lose sight of the death part.”

“Interesting theory, Violet,” Arkady says, once she can get herself to speak. “Doesn’t change that I was the one of us doing the killing.”

As she says the words, she realizes that they sum out to something snarkier than she intended, but there’s no bite to her voice, and Violet seems to register that.

“No,” she says simply. “It doesn’t.”

Arkady watches Violet in silence as she scrapes tendrils of drying hair off her forehead, straightening back up in her chair.

“Anyway. I’m not walking out that door, Arkady. You’re right, I hadn’t truly thought about what it meant that you were Special Forces. There are probably things about the war that I need to…well, I’ll probably never understand them completely, but things that I need to acknowledge.” She sighs. “But I meant what I said earlier. When I asked you out, I was asking you, not some hypothetical better you. Besides,” she adds quietly, “it’s not like I don’t have my own regrets.”

There’s a pretty big difference between ‘keeping your head down and getting a college degree’ and ‘actively killing people,’ but Arkady doesn’t feel like getting into it.

She lets herself sink back into the pillow. The room feels calmer, like the air on a planet after a storm.

No, it doesn’t, Violet said, and somehow, that feels like an anchor. Violet isn’t so horrified by the things that Arkady has done that she needs to pretend that they don’t exist.

“I. Uh. Okay.” Arkady attempts a smile, though she has a bad feeling that she’s making more of a weird grimace.

Fortunately, Violet doesn’t seem to mind, giving her a smile of her own that’s only a little shaky. “I’m glad we, uh, talked about this, but I’m guessing it isn’t doing your pain any good and I’m ready to shelve it for now if you are?”

“Shelving, uh. Sounds good.” Arkady nods vigorously. “Yeah.”

“Also, you owe me an apology for snapping at me,” Violet says calmly.

“Oh.” Arkady stares at her for a second. “I…shouldn’t have done that, should I?” Great job restating the obvious, idiot. “I…” Jesus Christ.

Violet is watching her silently. Arkady takes a breath.

“Violet, I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have snapped at you about something that had almost nothing to do with you. I mean, I shouldn’t shout at you in general, that’s broadly speaking a dick move, but in this particularly context I definitely, especially shouldn’t have—”

Shut up, shut up, shut up. What is a good apology even like? Sincere. Doesn’t make it about yourself.

“What I mean is—I’m sorry.” She bites her lip. "And, uh…thank you. For, um, not holding me to a lesser standard because I was hurt.” Or because I’m someone who has hurt other people. “Not that you should have to remind me I owe you an apology, but…” She squirms. “You had enough faith in me to know I’d. You know. Want to. So. Uh. Thanks.”

So much for not making it about herself. She coughs awkwardly. “So. Yeah. Uh. You sure there’s not anything…more that you want to talk about? Because I, uh, just freaked out and dumped a ton of my garbage right into your lap, and if there’s anything else you need to say, or ask, or whatever, I’m here. I mean, I kinda can’t go anywhere else right now, but—you know what I mean.”

“Thanks.” Violet smiles a little. Arkady nods, trying to smile back and hoping this one isn’t too grimacey.

Staring at Arkady as though deep in thought, Violet says, “I don’t think there’s anything else, right now. I still want you to talk to someone about…all this…at some point. It doesn’t need to be a civilian counselor. Just…someone. But…”

Violet bites her lip. Her pained look from when Arkady hurt herself laughing is back, if it even ever left. “You have multiple broken bones and you’re stuck in bed and in pain, and right now more than talking about anything I just want you to be able to rest.”

“Oh,” Arkady manages. Helpfully, she follows it up with, “Ah.”

Violet smiles again, then hesitates. “Though, there is—"

She is staring at Arkady very intently all of a sudden, and Arkady can practically see the gears turning inside her head. She feels her own body tensing, a runaway voice inside her warning her that reminding Violet about so much of her past all in one go might mean that this is the day Violet finally does walk out the door for good.

But when Violet speaks, it’s not about the part of the conversation that Arkady was expecting.

“So…you’ve always known that torture, um, works. Ever since you were a kid.”

“What? Yeah, I—you grow up on a place like Cresswin, you get a pretty firm grasp of what torture is used for, yeah.”

Violet is biting her lip as though in deep thought. “So…when I was on the Iris…and you’d just stopped pretending to be Kay Grisham, and I accused you of wanting me to get in the cryo chamber so you could torture me for information…you said ‘We don’t torture, it doesn’t yield reliable results,’ and then you said, ‘Also, it’s wrong.’ But you believed…you knew that torture did work.” Violet’s voice is slow, her face still screwed up as though she is working something out. “Even if not for the exact purpose I was accusing you of. So…when you said all that…the reason that you, the real you, didn’t torture, that the Rumor crew didn’t torture, is just because it’s wrong.”

“Gee, Liu, glad you’re having a warm, fuzzy realization about how heartfelt and wholesome it is that our crew doesn’t torture people.” Arkady’s pent-up dread gives way to a fervent eyeroll. “Have you met Sana? Like, held a conversation with her? At any point in time? For more than thirty seconds?”

Violet sighs in annoyance. “That isn’t what—” she fires back, then stops, her voice going gentle again. “That isn’t what I meant. Do you want to try to have some of the juice now?”

“Liu,” Arkady says, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Are you keeping a lid on the snarky repartee because I’m all injured and convalescent? Because if I can say anything I want while you nobly go easy on me, can I just comment that the way that you put cereal in your milk a little at a time ‘so it doesn’t get soggy’ is mind-blowingly—”

“You’re making me. Want. To be a lot. Less. Noble. About it.”

Arkady snickers, then smiles, holding out her bruised but less-busted left hand. Violet stops mock-glaring and reaches across Arkady’s body to take it in a careful, awkward clasp, smiling at her as though…

Well, shit, Arkady doesn’t know how to put it into words, or at least not into words that aren’t all dramatic and weird. Violet is smiling at Arkady as though Arkady is some wonder of the universe that Violet can’t believe she gets to have the privilege of seeing, like a star or a comet or…whatever it is that biologists rock their socks about, a really cool bug or something.

It’s weird and kind of overwhelming, but kind of in a good way, and Arkady just wants to sit here and hold Violet’s hand, and look at Violet, and let herself be looked at by Violet like the wonder of the universe that Arkady knows that she is not but that she could, as Violet watches at her, almost believe herself to be—

“Violet,” Arkady says, wrinkling her eyebrows. “How many painkillers do you have me dosed up on right now?” She squints at the IV bag above her, dropping Violet’s hand and trying to shove herself a little more upright against the pillows. “Also, does a convalescent gal get to sit up around here? I kinda want to try some of that juice, and maybe someday even do something horribly taxing like read an update on our ship’s computer systems.”

The corner of Violet’s mouth turns up in a smile. “I’ll raise the bed. Let me know where you want to stop.”

“Right.” Arkady lies back as the fancy Iris 2 medbay bed hums its way upright. “Okay, stop.”

Raising her head from the thin pillow, she tips her stiff neck back and forth, peering around the medbay, which looks pretty much the way it always does. Sana’s multicolored crocheting bag is slung over the back of a chair.

“Let’s see, I think there’s—” Violet leans somewhere behind her, pulling out a fresh pillow and reaching forward to tuck it gently behind Arkady’s head. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“In answer to your question,” Violet says, still in her calm, attentive medic voice as she continues to adjust the pillows, “you told me back when I was taking down medical info on the Rumor that you prefer minimal use of sedative painkillers, and even the Iris doesn’t have any of the good non-sedative intravenous stuff, so I’ve been using the minimum of the intravenous sedative painkillers and transitioning you to our standard orals. That should mean you’re less groggy, but also that we’re blocking less of the, well, pain, so let me know if you want me to adjust the dose. It’s not all-or-nothing; I can fiddle with it a little without instantaneously sending you to another dimension,” she adds, a note of warm humor in her voice as she sits back in her chair with smile.

Arkady blinks, still stuck on the first part of that. “You did?”

“Did…” Violet frowns, visibly parsing which of her words Arkady is referring to, before her face clears in understanding. “Did stick to the minimum end of the range I considered safe and reasonable?” She gives Arkady a look Arkady doesn’t quite know how to interpret, sort of alarmed and sad. “Your medical decisions are your own, Arkady. I’m not going to override your wishes just because I care about you and seeing you in pain isn’t easy for me. Or any other reason.” Violet’s eyebrows furrow. “No one should,” she adds, in that quietly defiant tone of voice that she uses when she’s declaring something and has realized that she wants the whole universe to know it’s what she believes.

“Oh.” Arkady swallows. “Yeah.”

“We’re coming up on the next dose of the orals in a quarter of an hour,” Violet says, her voice businesslike again as she checks her watch. “In the meantime, are you ready for juice?”

“I didn’t even know we had juice.” Arkady eyes the glass with interest.

“There was some concentrate in the pantry. When Tripathi and I sorted the food, we tucked some of it away in case someone got hurt and needed easy fluids.”

“That was very forward-thinking of you.”

“On this ship, not really,” Violet mutters, holding the glass to Arkady’s lips.

Drinking from the glass as Violet holds it turns out to be somewhat complicated and require both of their full attention, but once Violet sets it back down, Arkady leans back against the pillows with a smirk. “Hey, we’re dashing space rogues. A few bumps and bruises are all part of the job.”

“‘A few,’” Violet returns, but without rancor.

“It’s my job, Liu,” Arkady snarks back cheerfully. Between the juice and the strains of one of Krejjh’s actually-good Dwarnian jazz tracks and Violet’s reassuring presence next to her, Arkady is beginning to feel more like herself than she has in a while, the helplessness of yesterday starting to feel a little further away. Even the pain is…okay, the pain is still pretty painful, actually, a constant burn at the edges of her mind.

She hesitates.

“Violet?”

“Yes?”

“Could you maybe…” Arkady licks her lips. “You said you could fiddle with the painkiller drip a little, right? Because my shitty bones kinda hurt a lot and I wouldn’t mind if they, uh, didn’t.”

“I can do that.” When Violet meets Arkady’s gaze, her voice is calm and serious. “I’ll start with a small increment. It will take about thirty seconds to take effect. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

Standing, Violet adjusts something.

Arkady waits.

“Do you feel anything yet?”

The relief is noticeable, the pain in Arkady’s chest and limbs cooling down a notch. “Better. Wow. Better.” Arkady hesitates. “You, uh. Said that that was a small increment? I think I could use another small increment.”

“Okay.” Violet makes another adjustment.

This time, the relief is almost total. Arkady stares at the ceiling, feeling tears of relief prick her eyes as the burning ache eases to almost nothing.

Everything feels a little foggier, too, but she’s still here, and able to form mental sentences, and the pain is all but gone.

“That’s good.” She bites her lip as Violet sits back at her side. “That’s really, really—the pain is almost gone. Now.”

Violet swallows visibly, staring at Arkady in relief.

Arkady feels a tear coalesce and run down her cheek, and Violet reaches forward with gentle fingers to wipe it away.

“I’m glad, Arkady,” she whispers. “I’m so glad.”

Arkady lets a long breath out, looking around the room again. It’s almost like being in a new room, a room-without-pain, during a new day, a day-without-pain.

“Sana will be glad, too,” she comments wryly as her gaze lands on the crocheting bag again. “She gets all twitchy whenever she manages to have good food or meds or supplies on hand and someone doesn’t use them.” She grins. “It’s her whole octopus thing. You know, I think I called her an octopus yesterday? Krejjh won’t shut the hell up about octopi now that they’ve found out they’re, gasp, actually real, so I guess I just permanently have octopi on the brain now, and I was thinking about how Sana has her whole multitasking thing where she’s got an eye on the status of the whole ship and everyone on the crew at all times, and—damn it, I should have called her a ghost squid. She would have hated that.”

Violet is giggling helplessly. “I can’t believe you called Tripathi an octopus.”

Arkady grins lazily. “Yeah, well, now she’s gotten to enjoy living with the mystery of what the hell I was talking about. Even sedative-induced grogginess has the occasional upside, right?”

Speaking of twitchiness, Violet’s twitchy question face is back, though Arkady can tell she’s trying to hide it.

“You didn’t override what I told you, okay?” Arkady says. “You didn’t dose me up, even when I couldn’t have done anything about it, because I’d told you not to. So I figured you wouldn’t take a mile if I gave you an inch.”

“Oh.” Violet sits back in her chair, looking at Arkady with that same expression she was looking at her with earlier, sadness and something else Arkady can’t parse.                                                                

Arkady sighs. “During the war. When you got injured, they knocked you straight out. It made it easier on the medics, I guess—no panicking soldiers, just unconscious bodies to take care of until they got better or didn’t. And easier on the medics meant less medics per ship, which made it easier on the brass. I mean, I guess that was why, though I wouldn’t put it past just being a power trip for some of them—”

“I know.”

“—but it isn’t like you can easily say when it was that and when it was—” Arkady blinks. “Huh?”

Violet sighs, her eyes dropping to her lap. “That’s not just a wartime thing. When I was a medic out by O-11, some of my colleagues used too much sedative on people they thought were being a problem. Or who…might be a problem. Aggressive, scared, not ‘compliant,’ whatever. Of course, if you paid attention to who they were more likely to think was a problem…”

“I’m guessing there were patterns?” Arkady offers.

“Yeah.” Violet bites her lip. “The irony was that…this was less of a thing out in the field, but pretty often when someone was actually in the hospital, they’d be denied painkillers because the staff decided they were lying or exaggerating. It was…” Violet twists her hands in her lap. “It wasn’t just those problems, either. When you have a lot of people living in poverty, the power dynamics with whoever is in charge of access to medical treatment get…bad. It was not a good situation, and I was—you know. There. Being part of it.”

Arkady blinks, staring at Violet. Maybe the reason she didn’t know how to interpret the look in Violet’s eyes earlier was because it wasn’t actually the panicky huge-eyed way she looks at Arkady what feels like every time Arkady mentions some detail of Cresswin, but a look of recognition.

“I never thought about what it would be like to be a medic under the IGR,” she says quietly.

Violet finally looks up. “Part of it was the IGR, but a lot of my older colleagues had come up doing the same thing. It’s like you said. Republics aren’t perfect, either.”

“Oh.”

Violet licks her lips, hunching further into her chair. “It’s like you said about the war. Yes, sure, once I wasn’t a trainee and it was me and some colleagues out on a call, we were never the ones who gave those injections, used more than was needed. But that doesn’t mean that the ones I was with were always great about other things, or that others weren’t…” She sighs. “Just because I didn’t do anything especially bad myself doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have…you know, tried to do more than I did.”

Arkady stares at Violet, considering offering her her less-busted hand again, but decides against it. If she were Violet she wouldn’t want someone pawing at her trying to offer comfort about something that can’t really be comforted.

Violet’s work is the stuff of life, she thought to herself blithely only a few minutes ago, somehow not thinking about how much being a medic had to do with death and utterly traumatic shit. And-or, apparently, standing aside while your colleagues hurt and traumatized other people and then having to live with that.

“Jesus,” she says.

“Yeah.”

They sit quietly for another few minutes.

“Well, on a lighter note,” Arkady says awkwardly, “when it comes to your current cool, awesome medic job with our little band of dashing space rogues…can I, uh, have some more juice?”

The worst of the haunted look slides off Violet’s face as she smiles. “Of course.”

When the glass is empty, Arkady does reach her less-busted hand toward Violet, tugging her forward when she takes it. “Come here.”

She thinks Violet might go for a kiss on the forehead, depending on how fragile she’s thinking of Arkady as being right now, but Violet kisses her on the lips.

Their lips move together gently for a few seconds, then Violet settles back into her chair, smiling. “Your lips are sticky.”

“Excuse me, Liu, but I feel I should point out that your lips are now also sticky.”

“Touché.” Violet grins as she stands up again. “How’s your pain? We should still be transitioning you to the orals, so I’m going to get that ready now.”

“Still good.” Arkady smiles, wiggling the fingers at the end of her cast as Violet heads for the medbay sink.

“I know you and Sana are going to grump at me and Krejjh at some point for covering you and RJ instead of running,” she calls, “and then grump at me even more for making sure they hurt me before Krejjh, but if it had to be us, you are lucky you got me as a patient instead of Krejjh, trust me. They got completely freaked out when we tried to introduce them to Necco wafer candy a few years ago and still make grim remarks about ‘humans eating chalk.’ Dissolved pills would not be an easy sell.”

She’s expecting Violet to banter something back, but Violet looks downcast when she returns to Arkady’s side.

After Arkady has knocked back the chalky goo, she watches Violet carefully as she returns to the sink. That look could be about any number of things, but Arkady has the strong feeling that she’s seen it before, the first time Violet was bandaging her up after her gunshot wound on the Gay Louisa.

“Are you mad at me?” she asks, hesitantly, when Violet sits back down.

Violet’s face crinkles up in concern as she looks at Arkady. “Mad?”

Arkady grins weakly. “You know, because I went out and got myself hurt again?”

Violet’s forehead smooths out, then re-crinkles itself a second later. “I—no, Arkady, I’m not mad that other people tortured you. Or, I mean, I’m mad, I’m—furious, but at them, not at you.” She pauses. “And yes, I’m…‘mad’ isn’t the right word, but…it makes me upset that you got badly hurt to protect me and RJ, and it makes me upset that you think it’s good for it to be you who gets hurt instead of the rest of us. But you know that the times I chastise you for getting hurt, I’m not angry at you. Right?”

She smiles on the last words, in that specific abashed way that she smiles when she’s asking for reassurance about something that she thinks is just her anxiety playing up and probably not something she should actually be worried about at all.

When Arkady just stares at her, though, a look of alarm passes into her eyes. “You do know that, right?” she asks in a smaller voice. “I would never be really angry at you for getting injured.”

“Oh,” Arkady says. “Yeah. Of course I know that.” Did she?

Violet looks like she isn’t particularly fooled. “Well, now you do.” She sighs, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry. If—hypothetically speaking, I mean,” she adds, her lips twitching in the ghost of a smile. “If you’ve ever thought I was actually angry at you for being injured in a bad situation…I’m sorry.”

Arkady blinks at her, finally managing to muster a nod.

Violet smiles a little, reaching out and smoothing Arkady’s hair. “I’m not mad at you, Arkady. There’s nothing about you being hurt and in pain that I would ever be angry about.”

“Well, not nothing,” Arkady points out. “You just said that you were upset that I try to put myself between the rest of you and danger.” She can’t resist adding, “You know, my literal job?”

“Your job is being first mate.” Violet’s voice cracks slightly.

Time to see how prohibitive this wrist cast is. Arkady lifts her hand to Violet’s face, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s a job with a lot of facets.”

Violet sniffs wetly, lifting her own hands to gently support Arkady’s wrist as she lowers it to her lips and brushes a kiss against Arkady’s fingers.

“I’m not mad at you for putting yourself between other people and danger, Arkady,” she whispers. “In fact, it’s probably one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

Arkady can feel her face getting hot as she stares, dazed, at Violet. “But…”

“I think it was a very brave and good thing that you did yesterday, and it scares me and makes me angry how okay you are with getting hurt to protect other people. I can feel both of those things at the same time.” Violet smooths Arkady’s hair again.

“Oh.” Arkady clears her throat awkwardly. “I. Oh.”

Violet chuckles, reaching up to dash a tear from her own eye. “You know what I feel, right now, more than anything? I’m just glad to have you back safe with me.”

“Oh,” Arkady says again. “I. Um. Hhh.” Get it together, Feral Kitten Patel. “I’m…glad to be back with you too. Um. Really glad.”

Violet smiles through her tears, and they gaze at each other in silence for a while.

“You know,” Arkady says wistfully, “I’m not exactly thrilled I can’t use a gun, or a knife, or punch anyone, or—” She cuts herself off. “Uh, you get the idea. But what I really can’t wait for is to be able to scoop you up, carry you to bed, and hold you in my arms all night long.”

“I.” Now Violet is the one blushing. “You…”

Arkady smirks, and Violet seems to regain the ability to form sentences, reaching out and caressing Arkady’s cheek. “Well, the scooping me up in your arms part will have to wait a little longer, but you should be able to relocate to your real bed some time in the next few days, and then there’s nothing stopping us from a whole lot of careful cuddling.”

Arkady smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”

“As for right now…I can’t exactly crawl into bed with you,” Violet says, sounding regretful, “but we could try…”

Pulling the chair with her, she moves so that she’s sitting as close as possible to Arkady’s shoulder, then carefully lowers her upper body to the bed so that her lower left shoulder rests just below Arkady’s right one, her face nestled into Arkady’s neck. Her left arm is presumably squashed under her, but her right hand comes up to rest on Arkady’s shoulder, thumb gently stroking Arkady’s shirt.

“Liu,” Arkady says, trying not to laugh, “that can’t be comfortable.”

Violet’s mutter against her neck sounds almost sleepy. “You’d be surprised.”

“Whatever you say.” Arkady tips her head to lean her temple against the top of Violet’s head. “Are you gonna fall asleep like that?”

“No,” comes the immediate response. “Or. Actually, this is more comfortable than I thought it would be, and I shouldn’t leave you alone for more than fifteen minutes while you’re still on the drip, and alarms are fallible so maybe I should…” She raises her hand to her comm. “Violet Liu to Iris Cockpit.”

“Attem—”

“Hello, Science Officer Liu!” sings Krejjh’s sunny voice. “How’s the patient?”

Arkady can feel Violet smile against her neck. “She’s doing pretty good, Krejjh. Hey, can you send someone down here in twenty minutes to poke me awake? First Mate Patel and I are at risk of engaging in some romantic tandem sleeping.”

“Iiiii sure can, Science Officer Liu!” The grin in Krejjh’s voice is audible, and Arkady feels a lingering echo of fear fading from her mind at the sound of them alive and well. “Aaand I’ll let you get right to it. Krejjh out.”

Arkady snorts. “I have no idea why you’re eager enough to cuddle with me that you’re willing to risk getting shaken awake in situ by a pilot making disgustingly enchanted faces at how ‘cute’ we supposedly are.”

“It’s a high price,” Violet says solemnly, her voice sleepy, “but it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

Arkady snorts again, trying to ignore the growing feeling of sunlit happiness in her chest. Violet’s hair is soft against Arkady’s face and her body is warm against Arkady’s side, and Arkady stares up at the ceiling, trying to comprehend how and why she has gotten ridiculously, disgustingly lucky enough to be here, now, with Violet’s hand curled around her shoulder and the steady rise and fall of Violet’s breathing against her.

In the kitchen, someone or something makes a subdued crashing noise, and someone else cackles loudly. Arkady can feel Violet’s amused sigh, and she smiles, letting her eyes drift closed.

“I hope you play this song someday,” croons the radio, “and think of Earth girl who loves space girl…”

A gentle current of air from the vents stirs a strand of Violet’s hair against Arkady’s ear, and she wriggles her head minutely to dislodge it before tucking her head back against Violet’s. As she closes her eyes again, the feeling of sunlit happiness is so strong that she wonders if she’ll be the one to stay awake even as poor tired Violet falls asleep. That would be ironic, wouldn’t it?

When Krejjh enters the medbay eighteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, they have to bounce back and forth from one foot to the other in silent agony for several seconds at the sheer adorableness of the sight of their crewmates cuddled together on the medical bed. First Mate Patel’s forehead is smoothed out in sleep, a smile on her lips, and even when Krejjh nudges Science Officer Liu awake and she disentangles herself from her girlfriend, Arkady curls her head into the indentation Violet’s cheek has left on the pillow, as though even in sleep she knows that any space that Violet takes up in the universe is a place where she will be safe and sound.

[tentimesthecourage]

Pride

Summary: It’s Pride Month in Warriors’ Hyrule and the Chain has managed to land right in the middle of it. Most seem fine with joining in, but Rinku’s struggling with a few things.

Warnings: Some light biphobia/panphobia, 

Rinku tugged lightly on his braided hair, a small frown on his face. He didn't mind it, not at all. The ribbons were new, shining in pink, blue and a yellow that nearly blended in with his hair. It looked nice, really it did.

But he wasn't used to showing his colors so... openly.

He still remembered the words from a century prior...

"Oh so that means you get off to dishware? Seriously?"

"You're just confused."

"Oh you're greedy?"

"Geeze, doubt you'll be faithful to anyone."

The more he heard them, the more he just wanted to curl up and hide. He didn't, putting on a brave face and letting the words roll off his back the best he could.

They weren't even in his Hyrule right now, they were in Warriors'.  Apparently this Hyrule had a dedicate month to people showing their true colors. The place took on almost a festival atmosphere, especially Castle Town. But still, years of memories made him curl into himself, watching from the shadows as the rest of the chain went about, their own colors proudly showing.

Even Wild was going about proudly, his, no today their, cloak replaced by a similar one colored in pink, white, purple, black, and blue. They even had a broach holding it together that held purple, white, gray and black and a pin on their tunic shining in the same colors as his ribbons.

It didn't surprise Rinku that Wild was so nonchalant about it, having no memories of pre-Calamity Hyrule's response to... them. He was grateful, they could be themselves without being burdened with words from people who were meant to support but instead cut down.

A soft cough made him blink out of his thoughts, gaze falling to Four.

The smith had been reluctant at first as well, with showing his colors.

"Not many really know about the term I use..." He had explained after telling them. He soon yelped as Warriors pulled him away and they were gone for several minutes.

When they came back, Four was tugging on a new headband holding some interesting colors. Two shades of pink, several shades of blue. A jeweled pin with the same colors rested right over his heart and he constantly fiddled with it, unable to keep the smile off his face.

"You gonna join us or are you just gonna stick to the shadows?" Four rested a hand on his hip, raising an eyebrow. Rinku averted his gaze and sighed, "I don't... I don't know." He murmured, unable to meet his eyes which were softening with concern.

"What's the matter?"

"I..." He trailed off before allowing himself to slump to the ground, shifting lightly when his partner followed suit and leaned against him. "I'm not used... to showing my colors..." He fiddled with his braid, "Back then... it... it wasn't a good thing... to be interested in anyone except the opposite gender. It wasn't outright banned, but it was looked down upon... and the words... they might be from ignorant people... but..."

"But they still hurt." Four reached up to take his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Being judged always hurts."

Rinku nodded, ears drooping faintly. "I know it's in the past... so much has changed... but I haven't shown off in so long..." A little, slightly bitter laugh escaped him. "Hell, I've only shown one side of my colors... And... and I feel like another is changing and I just..."

"Hey... hey... breathe..." Reaching up, he brushed his fingers against his cheek. "It's okay..." Rinku took a deep breath, shuddering and leaning into his touch. "That's it, just like that..." Four smiled faintly. It hurt to see him so pained.

"So... there's more you want to show? Is that it?"

Rinku nodded slowly, biting his lip. "I... I'm Bi... but not only that... lately I..." He reached up to tug on his hair, almost immediately grimacing as Four stopped him, the smaller male having grown used to doing so. "I've been feeling... different."

"Different?" The smith prompted gently, soft and encouraging, never rushing. Rinku appreciated him so much, how'd he get so lucky...?

"Like... Not... fully... male..." Rinku's voice lowered. "I know it's not... wrong... but... it's strange... and I know I've felt it before... back then... but I never tried to explore it... because I was already hearing things about my preferences... Goddesses know what they would have said or done if..." Trailing off, a shudder ran through him before he blinked as Four pressed his now free hand to his other cheek, making their eyes meet. He startled lightly at the serious frown on his face.

"Listen. What anyone else thinks doesn't matter. If you're happy with yourself, that's all that matters. You're not hurting anyone by being yourself. Those people are in the past and they should stay there. Don't let them control your present or future by burdening yourself with imagined thoughts and opinions."

He shuddered again, feeling his eyes burn before nodding slowly, a small shaky smile forming. Four met it with his own before letting his hands fall to take Rinku's.

"Now tell me, if you're alright with it. What are you feeling right now?"

"I... feel..." Rinku paused, a thoughtful look crossing his... no her face. "I feel like a girl..." It felt like a weight was lifted off her chest. Her smile brightened, "I feel like a girl!" Four beamed in response, squeezing her hands gently. "Wonderful~ Shall we go find the captain? I'm sure he'd know some extra accessories, if you feel like showing..." He trailed off, perking as she squeezed his hands in response.

"I would."

They stood, ready to head off before Four paused, turning to look up at her.

"Hey... strange question, but would you prefer to be called something else on girl days?"

She blinked, tilting her head in thought for a moment before smiling shyly.

"...Call me Rin."

~~~

Warriors was almost too eager to help. It would have been disturbing if Rin wasn't feeling so grateful.

After finding the captain and explaining the basics, he basically dragged both of them towards a shop where he claimed a friend of his worked. Said friend was a young woman who pulled Rin away to try on something after introductions and explanations had been had.

Now Rin found herself tugging lightly on her new outfit, honestly she had just been expecting a pin or something, but this worked too. She couldn't remember the last time she wore something skirt-like.

Glancing at her reflection, she could hardly recognize herself. A forest green skirt, a white blouse that was partially covered with a cloak. It was similar to her regular one, but colored in pink, blue and purple instead and held together with a broach that shined in pink, white, purple, black and blue. She kept the ribbons in her hair, still enjoying the braid it was in. Sure, the colors didn't fit together and any fashion fan would probably keel over on the spot, but she liked it.

Taking a deep breath, she patted her cheeks to steel her nerves before stepping out to meet her friend and boyfriend.

Both turn to see her and Rin rubbed the back of her neck as Warriors whistled playfully while Four's eyes lit up in delight.

"You look great!"

"I knew those would fit you perfectly." She fiddled with the cloak, smiling bashfully.

"Thank you... oh, Wars, what do I-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there, missy." He waved a finger, grinning as he noticed her visibly perk at the nickname. "Call it helping your colors shine. You're not paying."

"But-" She protested. She knew all of this combined had to be somewhat pricey. She should at least pay for some of it! Rin perked as the woman running the shop chuckled.

"Don't bother, hun. When Link decides he wants to be generous, it's just better to accept it. You'll have better luck teaching a horse to fly than change his mind."

The captain laughed, not disagreeing in the slightest. Rin's cheeks puffed for a moment before she slumped in defeat. "Oh fine..." She surged forward to hug him tightly. "Thank you... you have no idea what this means to me."

"On the contrary..." He murmured, hugging her back and glancing up at the shop keeper who winked. "I know exactly what it means."

"If you two are done." Four drawled playfully. "There's plenty of other things going on and I wanna spend time with my girlfriend."

Rin felt a small shiver run down her spine and she could not stop smiling. Girlfriend... Girlfriend! Bless Four, he accepted every bit of this scrambled ex guard. She eeped as Warriors gently pushed her over to the smith.

"Go have fun you two, I'll catch up eventually."

Four hummed lightly in acknowledgement before reaching to take her hand. "Ready?"

She nodded, squeezing his gently, "Ready."

[doctors-star]

Can you stay still for the next 20 min? (If this was meant as a prompt ask 😅)

“Okay - have you got it?”

“Yeah, you can - shift it to the left a bit, yeah - is that right your end?”

“Looks good to me.” Peter leans back very carefully, eyeballing along the length of the beam with half of his face scrunched up in a squint. Alex resists the urge to fidget the cold, heavy wood between his hands; there is a strong likelihood that, in seeking a better grip on the slippery, paper-like bark of the skinny silver birch trunk they are using as a rafter, he will in fact fumble with numb fingers and drop it through their half-built structure. Peter straightens up and grins at him. “Right. Now, you just hold that there, perfectly still, while I drill and fix this end - shouldn’t take too long, anywhere between-” he tilts his hands mock-thoughtfully, “-two minutes and three days. All right?”

Alex sends him a withering look, somewhat weakened by the smile he is valiantly attempting to fight from his face. “You may have twenty minutes, maximum,” he says sternly.

“Why twenty?” Peter asks, casting about him for the auger they’re using to bore holes in the rafters and peg them together. “And - I mean you no offence, mate, but you keep shifting the beam - can you stay still for the next twenty minutes?”

Peter starts to descend his ladder to hunt down the drill and Alex takes pity. “You tucked it in your belt.”

“Ah! And you told me it was a bad idea,” Peter acknowledges with the point of a finger, scrambling back up and fidgeting the large, curling length of very sharp iron out from the small of his back.

Alex tilts his head slightly. “I meant because you might fall on it and die, but yes, fine, also because you have no object permanence and would lose it.”

Peter snorts and aligns the auger carefully over the crossed beams, perpendicular to their length, before beginning to twist the handles that form the T-shape of the drill. They’re down to their loose white shirts, despite the biting cold, what with the hauling and lifting and boring and pegging. Alex can see the muscles across Peter’s shoulders shift and pull under the thin linen.

“Anyway,” he says, dragging his eyes away and fixing them on the birch between his palms. The wood is scarred and knotted by the vagaries of Welsh weather but straight and sturdy; the bark is peeling in tight coils of ghostly parchment. It judders in his hands with every wrench of the auger, so he focusses on simply holding it still. “You can only have twenty minutes, because lunch is at one and that’s in about twenty minutes - whereupon I will abandon this whole project, because I’m hungry.”

Peter huffs a laugh, silver in the winter air. “Oh, right,” he says, as though this is quite reasonable, “I understand. Twenty minutes it is, then - although you’ll have to count it out in your head, what with us being Stuart farmers in rural Wales and therefore not having access to such newfangled things as watches.”

Peter looks at him out of the corner of his eye, biting his lip. Alex assumes a suitably innocent expression in the face of this challenge. “Mm,” he agrees.

“After all, I assume that’s how you know it’s twenty to one - you’ve been counting the minutes since dawn.”

“Oh, no, I can read the time in the sky.” Peter looks sceptically at the thick duvet of cloud overhead - the light has remained the same weak greyness since the sun technically rose, though they’ve not seen it. Alex shuffles the log into one hand, moving his foot up one ladder rung to support its weight on his thigh, and fumbles the other hand in the small leather pouch attached to his belt. He lifts the modern stainless steel watch up to the sky and makes a show of squinting at it against the clouds, and then puts it away. “Twelve forty-five,” he says decisively, slowly creasing into a smile when Peter abandons the auger to put his face in his hands and laugh.

“The director’ll have your head for that,” Peter points out, amused, as he goes back to the drill with a fond shake of his head.

Alex shrugs. He can, it turns out, do without most modern conveniences: he’s become used to candlelight and going to bed early, he likes the food, he honestly hasn’t thought about television for about three months. They’re allowed enough bits of their old lives to keep them all healthy and sane, like toothpaste and regular phone calls to friends and family, but other than that they’ve been keeping to the period fairly religiously and Alex wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s just - it turns out that, like how an explorer might like to keep a compass on them to know which way is north, Alex likes to know what time it is. Not for any particularly rational reason. There’s just a sort of comfort in knowing where he stands, temporally.

“Should have got you a pocket sundial for Christmas,” Peter says wryly, jimmying the auger back out of the wood with effort.

“A sundial? In Wales?” Alex objects mildly. “Peter, be serious.”

“Hah. Well, Stuart Welshmen managed somehow,” Peter points out, trotting swiftly down the ladder and fishing about in a basket for a peg long enough to pin the beam to the apex.

Before Alex can respond, there is a call from the farmhouse, and Ruth is waving at them as she picks her way through the frosted garden towards them. “Hello, boys - oh, this is going up well.”

Peter smiles shyly at her and pats the nearest upright of the latrine. “It’s good, yeah,” he says, turning the peg in his fingers with the other hand. It’s terribly sweet, this nervous adoration Ruth seems to inspire in him when she catches Peter off-guard. Sweet, and slightly embarrassing on Peter’s behalf, and very slightly inspiring of jealousy, as though Alex were five years old and sulky over Ruth stealing his best friend. He doesn’t like to examine that much.

“Slightly roofless,” Alex points out.

Ruth smiles, tilting her head back to look up the ladder at him, and the niggling, uncomfortable envy fades somewhat. “It’s al fresco,” she corrects cheerfully, and he grins. “It’s got walls, anyway, and this looks like your last roof beam, so it’s only slightly roofless.”

“You won’t say that when it rains,” Alex foretells, and she laughs.

“All right. I came out to tell you lunch will be in a minute, so if it’s at a point where you can leave it-”

“I’m letting go of this beam,” Alex tells Peter firmly. “I’m doing it.”

“You said twenty minutes,” Peter corrects, scrambling up the ladder.

“I said until lunch,” he says, steadying the beam carefully so that Peter can jam the peg in and shove at it with the heel of his palm. “It is now lunch, and I am no longer holding this beam for you.”

“Two minutes,” Peter pleads, shoving at the peg and then looking around him, patting his belt and where pockets might be on jeans but definitely are not on breeches. “Where’s the - thank you, Ruth.”

Ruth’s eyes slide sideways to Alex in amusement as she passes Peter a sturdy wooden mallet. She’s always pleasingly entertained by their antics, even if Alex and Peter are being more than slightly unhelpful, and it absolutely encourages them to further bouts of silliness. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” she says warmly, folding her arms and looking delighted around the edges of a stern expression. Alex basks in her indulgence.

“Alex wouldn’t really abandon me for lunch,” Peter says, deliberately overwrought and self-pitying, as he secures the peg. “He wouldn’t destroy all our hard work just to eat, not after the hours we spent working on it - and the years we’ve been friends, and all the nice things I’ve done for him.” Ruth laughs and Peter, beam now secured, leans on it slightly to look plaintively in Alex’s direction. “You wouldn’t leave me just for food, would you?” he says, with his best puppyish eyes.

Alex looks back at him. He’s given up a lot to be here with Peter for this year - they’ve not been out of uni that long, all things considered, and are definitely in that stage of academia in which a person is supposed to work extremely hard and get all the funding available to become very specialised and useful - essentially, they are not supposed to be going on a year’s sabbatical to wrestle pigs and plough fields and become bizarrely knowledgeable about early seventeenth century agriculture, which is something neither of them are aiming to specialise in at all. He has no idea if this is a good career move, or a sure-fire way to never be taken seriously again. On top of that, he’s given up on all the comforts and joys of modern life, and on seeing his friends and family particularly often, and on starting or maintaining relationships with anyone other than Peter and Ruth and the rest of the cast and crew. He had been worried, when he and Peter had been discussing whether or not to go for this opportunity, that he would be constantly miserably cold and lonely - but Peter had promised him good company and all of Peter’s spare layers and blankets, and had reminded him of all of the things they would get the opportunity to do and try, and all the experiences they could have out in the valley that they might never have again. And Alex had allowed himself to be convinced, and had followed Peter onto the farm and into Stuart life. He is yet to have cause to regret it; he has loved it, and Peter and Ruth and all his new friends, to excesses.

He fixes Peter with an unimpressed look. “I would leave you in the mud for an unripe tomato.”

[notyetneedcoffee]

Soul Seer, pt. 15

Loki Master List

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: just fluff!

Author��s Note: Takes place right after Avengers 1, with time travel elements and hints of Infinity Wars. Does NOT follow cannon after Avengers.

 Your fingers trailed along the steel frame of the wall of windows lining the walkway. Outside the sun gave the illusion of warmth, even though you knew it was cold. For the moment you aimlessly wondered, having free time before meeting with Steve and Natasha. You’d begun learning to fight a few months back.

Since staying at the Compound, Loki spent most of his days working with Banner, occasionally meeting over video conference in disguise with the other members of the worldwide team Stark put together to plan the energy migration. There was a lot of work to be done, and it needed to happen at human pace… or at least a Stark and Banner pace… because Loki was supposed to be dead.

A flash startled you from your musings. Out in the lawn now stood Thor, looking serious. His eyes moved quickly about, and when they landed on you a bright smile lit his face. Odd, you thought the windows were solid black from the outside.

Thor pointed to the end of the building. You knew a door led outside there, so you began to walk in that direction. His long strides allowed him to be inside and climbing the open stairs to the second floor. His booming voice echoed down the hall as soon as he saw you.

“Ah! Lady Y/N!” He smiled. “How fare you?”

“Well,” You accepted his warm hug. “I’m doing well here.”

“And my brother?”

“Way better than I ever would have thought.” Steve Rogers’ voice interjected from the stairs. “When did you get here?”

“Just now.” The two shared a back slapping greeting.

“Come on down,” Steve motioned to the elevator with a tilt of his head.

The three of you descended to the lower laboratories of the complex. You could see Bruce leaning against a work table, one arm wrapped around his middle and the other hand rubbing his forehead. Loki paced the room talking animatedly with his hands.

He wore your favorite dark green silk shirt. It always made you want to rub against him. You paused at the door, admiring his graceful strides. Bruce must have thought your hesitation was something else, because he waved you in and met you at the glass sliding door.

“We’re just on audio.” He spoke quietly.

Loki argued with someone on the line about power consumption. His voice, not his own, sounded higher and with a distinct eastern seaboard accent. “I can assure you, Mr. Archer, this solution is not a temporary one. The need for your power plants to run on fossils will be forever obsolete.”

“If you think we’re going to leave our shareholders hanging while…” The anger in the man’s voice was unmistakable.

“This guy just won’t buy in.” Bruce rolled his eyes.

Loki saw you and waved you closer. Your arms automatically slid around his waist as his right arm pulled you closer. His body language looked calm and relaxed. He felt calm and relaxed to you. However, his voice held an all to human tension when he spoke. “I don’t want to call in the Council, Mr. Archer.”

This set the man off again. Loki just grinned.

“I’ll be calling the Secretary of Energy and Senator Rowlins about this.”

“Please do.” Loki replied. “Let them explain it you. You need to remember we’re offering this five year transition period and incentive package so your shareholders won’t unduly suffer. But if you refuse to adapt your plant to the new technology obtained from the alien research, or some other form of renewable energy, you’ll just be forced out of the game.”

“Do not dictate to me, young man!”

“No, I’m just pointing out your choices. Adapt or die, that’s the way of things. You’re being offered good recompence and decent amount of time. The Council could just release this technology tomorrow. What would that do you shareholdings?” Loki grinned.

You absently rubbed you fingers over his silk clad stomach. He loved this, upsetting these people’s world order, causing chaos in their shelter selfish worlds. It fed his mischievous nature.

“You’ll be hear from our lawyers!”

“Can’t wait.” Loki touched a button, ending the call. He pressed his lips to your forehead. “Miss me, my pet?”

“Always.” You grinned.

Thor and Steve watched the two of you from the hall. Cap leaned a little closer, whispering. “I think he really likes making all these world industry leaders dance.”

“What is the Midgardian saying? He’s using his powers for good?” Thor whispered back.

Steve chuckled. “I s’pose.”

“I never thought I would see him so calm.” Thor mused.

“Oh, he gets in a rage, gets frustrated.” Steve buried his hands in his pockets. “But it blows over, and he keeps his word, and so long as she’s safe… that keeps him… balanced.”

Thor nodded, lifting a hand when Loki’s eyes turned to him. A frown crossed the darker brother’s face. He pulled away from you and walked out to the hall. You followed.

“Thor.”

“Brother.”

They stared at one another. Finally, you broke the silence. “What brings you around? Everything okay? Or is this just a social visit.”  

“Father asked me to come.” You felt Loki tense, but gave no indication as Thor continued. “Heimdall has been keeping his eyes on you and reporting on your activities.”

“If Heimdall is watching, then why send you?” He snapped.

“Loki.” You frowned, looking up at him. “Did you mean that to be as rude as it sounded?”

Thor’s brow arched in surprise. Steve bit his lip to hold back a grin, he learned chuckling at the way you corrected Loki was disastrous for everyone.

Loki looked down at your scowl and blew out air through his nose. “It’s old habits, I suppose.” He turned his eyes back to Thor, rewording his question. “So, what is it that Father wants?”

Though not an apology, the God of Thunder could scarcely believe his brother allowed you to admonish him, much less that he would heed your words. He knew the two of you shared a bond, knew that you’d touched each other’s minds. But, he could feel this was different.

“Perhaps we should discuss this in private.” Thor began to venture.

“You might as well spit it out, brother.” Loki rolled his eyes. “I’m not granted anything as privileged as privacy here.” Then he smirked. “Besides, there is no one in this company who would betray a trust.”

Thor crossed his arms and shrugged. “Father sent me, but it was a mother’s bidding.”

“What of mother?” Loki became instantly more in tune. You knew how he felt for her, knew how he missed her.

“She says something rare has occurred, says she can feel it in her magic.” Thor gave a lopsided grin. “Now that I’m here, I think she’s right.”

“What? Dammit, get to the point!”

“She says you’ve taken a mate.”

Loki’s mouth fell open. You and Steve looked at each other, confused. You never said in traditional words but no one doubted that you and Loki loved one another. So why was shock and confusion rolling through Loki’s mind.

“I don’t get it.” Banner looked between Thor and Loki.

“Our kind, our people, love and marry. It’s not unheard of, though they are not always monogamous. Even then there are exceptions, like our parents are now. But even early on, father was known to wander and mother had…”

“Don’t say that cretin’s name.” Loki scowled.

“But a mate,” Thor continued. “A pair that is tied together for the centuries of our lifetimes, is a rare thing. It is more common with the Alfheim, but it occurs with every race upon Yggdrasil. I don’t know if it was the touching of your minds, or if that was just a catalyst to what was destined to be, but I agree with mother. It’s true.”

A mixture of awe and elation filled you, only to be drowned in a crashing wave of sorrow and desperation. Your hand reached for Loki’s, and he gripped your fingers tightly. Tears filled your eyes as you tried to bite back a sob.

Steve said your name quietly, seeing the change.

You looked to him, tears falling silently. “I don’t have centuries. In what will seem like a blink of an eye, I will grow old and die and there’s nothing Loki can do to stop it.”

Cap’s face fell. He knew that heartache and would not wish it upon anyone, ever.

Thor’s strong hand gripped Loki’s shoulder. His other gently touched your cheek. “Do not do this. Do not mourn for what has not happen yet. Live joyously right now. I will tell Mother what I’ve seen. She will not allow such a tragedy to pass, especially when it’s within Father’s ability to prevent it.”

Loki gave him a sad smile. “I am sentenced to a century for my crimes. He’s not going to grant me an Apple with less than one in a hundred years served.”

“Mother is persuasive, you know better than most.” Thor beamed. “It may take a year, or five, or ten, but Mother and I will make Odin see what needs to be done.” Thor turned to you. “You understand of what we speak?”

The Apple of Immortality. You knew. Trying to weed through the bad memories of all the times Odin hurt and disappointed Loki, you searched for all the times Frigga’s influence worked upon their Father. Little concessions for the children to serious matters of state, she did hold sway over her husband. Suddenly you realized she held so much influence, that she used it sparingly as to not abuse it.

It might be okay after all.

You nodded slowly. “You mother is a formidable woman, kind, and she loves you both. Alright,” You smiled up at Loki, wiping your tears away. “There’s no point in wasting energy on worrying. You’re right, we live for today. But, Thor, we’re placing our trust in you.”

His big arms pulled you close, despite Loki’s growl, and he dropped a kiss into your hair. “I will not fail you, little sister. Mother is going to adore you.”

“Stop manhandling her,” Loki grumbled. “She is mine.”

You giggled, slipping from Thor’s bear hug and into Loki’s arms.

“How long are you staying?” Steve asked, not one hundred percent sure of the agreement, but satisfied that you were all happy.

“You need to tell her right way.” Loki answered at the same time Thor boomed “There is time to feast and celebrate!”

You squeezed Loki a little tighter. “We can wait a night. Maybe Thor will get you drunk and I’ll get to take advantage of you for a change.”

Loki’s eyes grew wide before he laughed heartily.

Yeah, you sighed, things were going to be alright.  

TAGS:

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[snowflake-apocalypse]

“English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though.”

“You need to stop.”

It’s been six months since the formation of Global Justice’s new aces, “Team Go-Possible”. Though, the rhyme and reason of it was wrong, Shego was actually enjoying the partnership with her former rivals. Dare she ever admit it out loud. The three grew to have a good dynamic, she thought. Between conversations about world events and the audacity of Club Banana creating a brach-off store, to the double-edged sarcasm they dished out to their adversaries in combat.

Team GP’s missions took them near and far around globe. This time, it was a nuclear power plant in the blustery Netherlands. Some madman claiming the greed of the world has grown to great. That he was the salvation it needed. His answer to said salvation? Implode the richest nuclear power plant in the world to prove his point.

This has got to be the seventh extremist kook we’ve taken on this month.. though the dude’s not wrong..

Kim and Shego are in route to the mountain side factory. Shego landing their sleek jet on an empty field with concentrated ease.“Okie dokie, let’s go get Mr. Doom Gloom before he turns the mountain side into a mushroom cloud-.” Shego powers their craft down, switching various instruments this way and that.

“-Don’t know about you, Kimmie but I’m looking forward to the bocca coffee. No stupid avalanche is going to ruin that.”

Double checking her equipment, Kim spares the woman a glance. “Heh, glad to know where your priorities are, Shego.-” Kim directs her attention to their mission control via comm link.

“-Hey, Wade you got a lock on our position?”

“Always do.” From GJ headquarters, the tech wiz of the team zooms his screen in on their target.

“That is the most creepy, heartwarming thing I’ve heard from you, Load.” Shego quips, donning her green and black cold weather apparel. When she accepted Betty’s offer, the one thing she swore is that she was keeping her colors.

“Uh..thanks? Anyway, I’ve scanned the interior of the facility, the reactor is located in the south side of the building.” Through the wrist-worn Kimmunictor, a holographic layout of the factory appears. Detailing the whereabouts of their target, only one heat signature appears on the layout. The reactor, they assume.

“Wade, this guy is working alone?” Kim quizzical asks, zooming in on the projection.

“From my latest update, yes. The building has been evacuated for safety. No other intel I’ve collected suggests multiple culprits.-“

Wade swipes through the limited file he has on their perp. He had an uneasy feeling about this caper, but couldn’t justify it from a hunch. “-But, please still be careful, you two.”

Shego, after getting one last solid look at the diagram, closes her hand on the blueprint. “Will do, dad. Thanks.”

——

Approaching the bolted door of the factory, Kim still voiced her concerns., “Y’know, I just wished we had more information on this guy.”

Shego directs a small concentration of searing plasma at the deadlock, freeing the door. “Yeah, well I wished they’d appear at GJ’s doorstep. Or just stayed home.”

Cautiously pushing the door open, Shego scans the left side of the interior, while Kim covers the right.

“Okay, Wade. It looks as empty as you said.- Wade? Wade.” Kim, only being met with silence, tries and fails to reach their partner. Somewhere along the trek, the so-called incorruptible signal was lost.

“Fan-freakin’-tastic. Guess the altitude is the weakness.” Rolling her eyes, Shego marches on. “Let’s just shut this joint down before we get any more surprises.” Despite her quiet tone, Shego’s voice echos throughout the vast building.

Creeping through the corridors, the women stay on alert. Passing abandoned offices, break rooms, only Kim’s quiet chatter fills the space. “Hey, about that coffee, you also want to stop at Portugal of the Little Ones?”

“Are you serious, Possible? You want to visit a tiny replica city in Portugal?” Shego raises an eyebrow in Kim’s direction.

“...Yeah.”

If you don’t stop making that damn face...

“..Okay, fine. Portugal.” Shego huffs in faux annoyance. The pair rounded the corner to the vast power center of the facility, the two spot the ticking time bomb.

“Bingo!” Shego exclaimed, running up to the reactor. Which had been armed with specialized munitions.

“This is new.. Newer. What the hell kind of explosive is this?” The younger agent puzzles.

The device, almost cybernetic, jet-black with a single blinking blue light. Upon closer examination, Shego makes out a faintly marked two-pronged arch on the surface. Gaping at the realization, she snaps of her shock.

“No.. No way...”

“What’s up? What is it?”

“This looks like a prototype product of Gemini’s splinter cell scientists. Before he broke off to W.E.E. It’s not on a timer, it’s remote detonation.”

“Gemini? Hold on, then how is some random guy get a his hands on-“

Before Kim could finish her statement, a man’s honeyed voice breaks through the atmosphere.

“Well, you always were the most observant of the team, Shego. Bravo.”

On the grated deck before them, stood a man. Medium build, piercing blue eyes, a mop of brown hair turning grey. All pulled together by a navy trench coat and tactical cargo slacks.

“Sorry, don’t think we’ve met. Unless I’ve taken you hostage or saved you from a flooding city before.” Shego deadpanned, hands resting on her hips.

Leisurely leaning on the rail of the balcony, a shiftiness displayed in his eyes. “Oh no, I didn’t expect you to be familiar with me. But I have been following the folly of Global Justice’s new dream team. I must say, you are quite the force to be reckoned with.”

“And we really don’t want you to find out why.” Kim interjects, conviction lacing her voice.

“-So if you could hand over the remote, shut down the detonation, then maybe we can reach an agreement.”

“Possible. Kim. Of all the people in the bloody world, I thought you would be one to know.. it’s never that simple.” Faster than her reflexes, the man draws a sleek laser-gun from his coat and fires upon the unsuspecting woman.

Center mass.

Direct hit.

“Gah!” With a cry, Kim covers the wound with her hand, bracing herself on her knees.

“Hey!” Shego booms. Hands ablaze, she charges their suspect... no, enemy now.

Kim, biting back the shock and pain, rises to her feet.

Damnit... Sloppy. Get up, Possible.

Kim averts her concentration back to the reactor. Without Wade, she scrambles to find a bypass way of disarming the bomb.

Firing scorching blast after blast, Shego dodges the rounds aimed at her. The room being filled with the leaden smell of burning metal, as the balcony gave way to the force of plasma.

“I swear, that god-forsaken organization is more concerned with the stock market and shiny toys than actual global security-and you! You radioactive madwoman, turn your back on your very profession! The Emerald Rage can’t even decide who’s side she’s on!” Anger and outrage boiling from the man the closer she got.

“Yeah.. y’know your twenties when you’re trying figure shit out... a lot of grey area and robberies in there.” Flipping onto the grate, Shego faces the man with a controlled fury.

“Oh, also I’m on my side and no one else’s. Which, coincidently is the side that doesn’t want a giant crater in the middle of the Netherlands!” Weaving between a few more shots, Shego disarms the man. She restrains him in a firm, plasma-fortified grip. Not enough juice for a second degree burn, but it sure wasn’t comfortable.

“Hello.” The welcome rolling off his tongue like an invitation.

Abruptly Shego is met with a viscous head-butt and a solid tungsten bracelet around her wrist.

“Grrr-! What the hell-!?” Collecting her wits, Shego paws at the metal. Kicking up the intensity of her powers in hopes of liquifying the substance.

Her foe stands back in smug satisfaction, watching her ferocity slowly turn to languid effort. Her flames spasmed, then doused like a candle in the wind.

Shego lightheaded and pale, collapses with heavy bang on the cold metal.

Crouching next fallen woman, he gingerly strokes her raven hair. Conceited grin never leaving his face. “Oh, my my. Did dear Mother Director not tell you about the adverse correlation between tungsten and the Aether comet? I don’t blame her. Must’ve been frightening for her to raise super-powered children, especially if she had no way of controlling them.”

The clamber drawing Kim away from her task, horror at watching the strongest person she knew hit the floor. “Shego!”

“No, no.” Motioning to the button on the detonator remote, he actives the explosives. Sending the entire right side of the structure up in blazing destruction.

Kim instinctively covers her head, in an effort to shield herself from the blast. Evading wooden beams and falling debris, Kim steels and drives on towards her ally.

Producing a small syringe from his coat, filled with a concentrated supply of the fatal alloy. He methodically pushed back the sleeve of Shego’s fleece, carefully injecting the liquid into her bloodstream.

“My father, Jeremiah Asbell had so much passion for his work. So much drive to create a better world. What did he receive for his endeavours? Scorn and betrayal by the very people he supported!-“

Jeremiah Absell.. Absell.. Dr. Absolute. Wait, he had a kid?

“-All to be handed back by some punk children who should’ve been left in a crater.”

As the tungsten courses through her system, melds with her mutated cells, Shego braces the pain gripping her body. She clenches her teeth, fighting for some kind of spark of her dwindling power.

Thanks, Betty. Chalk this up to another ‘I got your back, kid.’ move. Trust sure ran deep there.

With a flicker of ginger hair catching her attention behind a wall, Shego arduously motions her head to face Kim. Olive meets emerald eyes.

After all of the years they spent trading blows, like scorpions in a bottle, after the late night discussions they’d have when neither could sleep... they both knew that look. The look of unwavering determination meeting one of unabated stubbornness. With all of the unknown wild cards revealed, Shego couldn’t afford both of them being killed.

Mustering as much strength as she could, Shego discreetly raises her hand, stopping Kim in her tracks.

Don’t you dare.

[too-scared-to-do-this]

Of the Devil’s head

Chapter seven - Fluffed-up parrots and thieves of all skills

Sander’s sides fanfiction

Wordcount: 1825

Ship: prinxiety (actually getting somewhere finally, people :D)

TW: mentions of illness, panic attack, some light fun-making of stuck up royalty, the Devil being his ‘evil’ self and making death-jokes - if I missed any tell me please :3

A note for all: Hey, sooo.... This is basically a looong conversation, because I let myself go and enjoyed writing what I like - which is dialogue mostly, so... I hope you don’t mind too much.

Summary of the whole story:  They say, the one that wears the crown rules all - the living, the dead, the walking, the crawling, the rooted, the sane and the mad. They say, once you own the crown, you become the  most powerful being on Earth and beyond. Roman’s stolen bigger things - a measly little crown won’t present a problem, even if he has to steel it straight off of the devils head!

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

Chapter seven - Fluffed-up parrots and thieves of all skills

“Why did you come here?”

Yes, indeed a very good question. And Roman had no good enough answer to it. Well, not good enough for the Devil, he though. So instead of the truth, he opted for the easier way out. Flirting.

“I already told you, your royal hotness.” he smirked at the king. “To steal your heart.”

Virgil had a lot to do not to react the way he felt like reacting. While on the outside just a slight dust of pink coated his cheeks - easily hid by the lighting of the place - on the inside he was falling apart and erroring, trying his best to come up with an answer. He was the Devil for Hades’ sake! He wasn’t supposed to react this way to a few flirty words!

Even if the stranger had a nice face structure. And beautiful wondering green eyes. And looked better in Virgil’s clothes then Virgil did himself (this last one has been bothering him since he stepped into his chamber and found the Human sprawled out on his bed).

He wasn’t supposed to be squealing like little girl over this Human being. He was the Devil, the head of Hell. And he was supposed to act like it.

So, he cleared his throat. He was not going down that easily. He leaned towards the thief. “Well, if that’s true, how do you plan on doing that?”

“I-ah...um…” that was not blush on Roman’s cheeks thank you very much! He wasn’t at all fazed by this idiotic demon. And to prove it, Roman spat the first thing that popped up in his head. “With my irresistible charm and good looks, obviously.”

Virgil snorted a little, watching the dramatic hand gestures the being displayed. It kind of reminded him of Remington (witch was a cause of big concern at best), but on them he found it somewhat… endearing.

“For a simple Human being you are very confident.”

“And why shouldn’t I be?” the thief grinned, already ready to preform the play of his life. “Just look at my gorgeous self! Who could resist this?”

“Exactly how many other fleshlings have you dated?”

“Um well… none - but that’s not what’s important! There was no one worthy enough of my awesomeness.”

The devil laughed again, flashing those sharp fangs at Roman,

“After all! I was the only one that managed to find the entrance to hell between all these fluffed-up parrots!”

“Fluffed-up parrots?”

“The princes!” the liveling explained. But when Virgil only razed an amused eyebrow questioning the thief’s judgement, Roman mouth almost fall open. With eyes wide and a big unbelieving grin, he started talking and gesturing animatedly again. “Oh, come on! Don’t tell me I’m not right! Have you seen any of them? With all their powdered faces, walking like there’s hot wire up their asses.”

“Hot wire? If they’d be true, they wouldn’t be walking, believe me. There’s a room for that kind of torture.”

“But I’m serious!” the Human jumped up, prancing around, mimicking the princes. “And their lips are always pushed together as if they ate a whole lemon or something! And oh my god-“

“Oh Hades, don’t mention that prick.” Virgil grumbled, rolling his eyes, but Roman didn’t seem to care.

“- that complete sense of superiority! It’s so awful! “I am prince Frogface. Look at me, I am so strong and handsome! I’ll bring you the crown, oh dearest King! Just look at me as I go into the woods and then come back empty handed!”

“So that’s why you came…” the Devil said calmly, lost in his own thoughts.

Roman immediately shut up. Somewhere in the conversation he forgot he was actually a prisoner and the creature he was talking to was the actual real-life Devil. His captor. The one that could kill him with a snap of his finger. Probably even would, for all Roman knows. Shit… he really messed up, didn’t he? “Y-yeah… I-“

The king waved his hand to dismiss their words. “I’m guessing your king wanted the all-mighty crown and the power that comes with it yada-yada.” he said rolling his eyes. “Yes, I know the story. Everybody wants the crown”

Somehow this didn’t surprise him. But he couldn’t deny the little disappointment he felt at their words. Oh well… Guess no creature would be dumb enough to actually fall for the Devil.

“So, you were the only one who found the entrance?” he raised an eyebrow, waiting for the other to continue.

Roman was expecting everything - anger, shouting, even flames (who knew what this thing was capable off) - but the last thing he expected was for the demon to sit calmly.

“Why… aren’t you more outraged?” the nervous thief asked, watching Virgil cautiously. “You’re supposed to be the big bad Devil! The embodiment of all evil! The Merciless blood-spiller.”

Virgil snorted - he hasn’t heard that one yet before.

“I just expected something more… I don’t know… evil? To come out of you?" Roman rambled, because what else was he supposed to do?

Virgil blew air out of his nose - which could be classified as a sort of ‘you’re such an idiot’ laugh. “Relax. It’s not like I’m gonna bite of you head.” he rolled his eyes. And they twinkled with a wicked idea.  “Although… I could just-” he grinned, showing of his fangs - all thirty of them. Licked them just for the effect.

The thief shivered. He knew that momentary relief was just that - momentary.

Virgil leaned closer and closer, until Roman was completely flush against the supporting-beam’s stone. The Human closed his eyes, petrified.

And then he heard it. That complete and utter free laughter. He frowned looking back forward. And the Devil was literally laughing in his face. “Y-you humans are so naïve! I can’t- Why would you believe any of that?”

Roman and his offended noises didn’t much help the Devils laughing-cramp.  “Ah, huh… okay…okay.. I’m - I’m calm now… please… hah… continue on. You were the only one who found the entrance?”

Roman pierced his lips and glared at the demon in front of him.

“You are evil.”

“Oh sweetie, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re in Hell. Everybody’s evil.” Virgil smirked. “But go on. I’m curious.”

The thief’s angry expression didn’t hold up much longer and he pick up where he left off. “Yes, I was the only one it seems. I don’t know how those morons missed the signs. I mean - they were right there. in front of their big, up-turned noses. Oh, and by the way - you guys are idiots!”

Virgil blinked in surprise “What?”

“I mean it! How dumb can one be to need directions to their home!”

“I mean those aren’t really for u-”

As much as Virgil found the rambling of his prisoner endearing, this was getting a little too much.

“Like, you’re supposed to be these big smart canning demons and you need signs to get home.”

“Those-“

“Like, humans really have to rethink ow we view your kind-“

“Hey, fleshling!” the Devils stern voice finally cut through Romans flood of words. “Don’t tempt it.” he gave them a look.

“Iiiii’m shutting up now.” the thief nodded, biting on his lips. I really need to learn when shut my mouth…

“Good.”

Silence fall upon the two and believe me, it wouldn’t do it justice simply calling it ‘awkward’. Roman looked everywhere but at the king. And Virgil sat, thinking about ways to break the silence.

And then something popped up in his head! “Why did you want that crown anyways?”

“Oh, that!” Roman grabbed onto the offered string as greedily as a thirsty man for water. He rubbed his neck somewhat ashamed. “It’s not me who wants it. Our King has decided he wants to rule all and promised a really nice reward for it. And I could really use that money…”  

Virgil tilted his head. He didn’t know the Human standards of living, but this being seemed a little too torn up to him from the beginning. His curiosity was spiked. “Why?”

“Well… My mother is really ill and- oh shit! How long have I been down here?!”

“Am… a-about a day in human time?” the complete and utter fear that for once weren’t cause by Virgil, took him by surprise.

“A day and a half?!” Roman jumped up again, looking around for the way back. “I-I have to get back. I have to go!”

The demon watched him. “I’m afraid I can’t let you…”

“No, you don’t understand! My mother is dying! If I don’t get back she’ll-“ Ro’s lips quivered. “And god knows King won’t give a shit about a poor old woman! I have to get back home!”

Their breathing was becoming shallow. Their movements frantic and rigid. They were shaking.

Virgil knew those signs all too well… He slowly stood up, keeping his eyes at the slowly panicking being. “Hey, come on look at me.”

Roman didn’t do that. Instead, his eyes finally found the entrance and his he was so ready to just bolt out of there, but Virgil reached him first, grabbing his wrist.

That didn’t doo much good, because the other froze up completely, breathing worsening. The Devil didn’t think this true… But he had to do something!

He turned them around and looked them directly in the eye talking calmly and clearly (of course, that wasn’t the case on the inside). “Look. I can’t let you out. But! I can send some healers to your house. There’s not a disease those demons aren’t capable of healing. I can promise you, she’ll be in good hands.”

Roman blinked at him. he tried to speak, but somehow words didn’t come.

“Now, though, I need you to breath. Okay?”

He tried, he really did, but he kept tearing up in the middle of a breath and failing at slowing them down.

That is, until the demon in front of him started counting. He found himself listening to those simple numbers repeating over and over again until somehow his breathing adjusted to it.

He didn’t even notice when he went down to the ground. Not even when he ended up holding both of those black-nail clad hands in a death grip. But the Devil didn’t seem fazed. He just kept on counting until Romans breathing finally evened out.

He was so tired. And still shaking. He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep.

But his mother-

“Let’s go find the healers and tell them where to go.” Virgil gave a small smile and stood up, holding a hand out to the Human.

If this was a joke, it was the cruelest one of all. Being kind and helpful then pulling the rug from under his feet. That’d be cruel even for the Devil. Nobody deserves to be played like that.

Roman really hoped this wasn’t a cruel joke…

And he took that hand.  

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

I’m not sure if this is what you were waiting for, but this is what I have to offer XD

I myself really enjoy when a story centers around the main characters and shows of the dynamic between them. Not much happened in this chapter, but they talked a bit and I got more comfortable with how I write them together and individually - you could say I got to know them more.

So... I hope you liked it :3

And as always, questions are really appreciated :)

-

Tag list:

@romano-hottopic

@vpow

@alice-only-me

[thatsbucknasty]

she used to be mine (ix) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

tags are still open :3

chapter 9: you matter to me

I can’t believe I’m done for today. I almost thought I’d never finish these pies and my feet are killing me. What I would give to be one of those rich soccer moms who drive nice SUV’s and go to brunch and get massages.

I’m done baking but I need to clean the mess and I don’t think I’ll be able to. I need to sit down for a bit and rest my back against something soft, like my mattress. I miss my mattress. I wish I could leave the dishes and get home already.

The bell rings and it startles me from my reverie. Did Nat forget something? She always forgets her wallet or keys.

“Nat is that you?” I yell from the kitchen.

The door opens and I see the last person I was expecting.

“Bucky. What- what are you doing here? Is there a problem?”

“Hi, no, I just wanted to see you, I- needed to see you”. He closes the space between us and I feel my heart in my throat.

“Is that alright?” He asks politely.

“What?” I’m too distracted by him and I’m not sure I even heard what he said.

“Is it alright for me to be here? I brought you a gift” He smiles a tight lipped smile and my senses are on edge, I can smell the sweetness of his cologne and it’s just the right amount of lavender and sandalwood for me to want to run into his arms but I stay put, my arms stiff on my sides.

“Did you? Why? It’s not my birthday”.

“It’s an apology present. I’m sorry for being an ass and making you feel uncomfortable. Here, open it”.

I grab the box and rip the light purple paper apart.

“It’s a Bundt pan!” I say to him while tears start to form in my eyes.

“And it’s non-stick!” He points out with the most adorable excited grin on his face.

“Oh my god, this is the sweetest thing someone’s ever done for me, thank you, Bucky!” I can’t resist it now and throw my arms around his neck.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart”. He wraps his arms around my waist and even though my growing belly stands between us, it still feels amazing to be held by him again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have crossed any boundaries between us, I know, but you need to know how much you matter to me. I’m here to tell you I’ll be here for you whenever you’re ready. I don’t care if it’s today, tomorrow, or a year from now, I just need one thing from you”.

“And what is that?” I take a step back from his embrace to see his steel blue eyes looking serious but vulnerable at me.

“I need you to not push me away, and everyone else who wants to help you, for that matter!  Do you think you could do that?” 

He takes a strand of hair away from my face and I know I could never deny him anything when he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the universe. I hold his hand in both of mine and bring it to my lips ever so gently, his forehead rests on mine and I whisper yes to him.

“I promise to not push you away, or my friends. You and this diner have become the most important people around me and I know me and my baby are gonna need you guys... But you and I, we need to take things slow okay?”

“I could go slow, yeah!” He throws his arms around me again and this time he squeezes the life out of me, beaming in excitement.

“Okay, doctor, you’re crushing the little peanut now”. I try to say between giggles and jagged breaths.

“Sorry, sorry!”

“It’s okay, I need to sit down though, too many emotions for a day”.

He helps me down a stool and sits next to me.

“Hey, so what do you say I invite you to dinner tonight?” 

“Tonight like right now?” 

“Why not? I bet you’re hungry”.

“Oh-kay… where will we go though? I don’t mean to be picky but my stomach can’t really take just whatever at the moment”.

“You still struggling with morning sickness?”

“I get morning sickness, afternoon sickness, middle of the night sickness, you name it”.

“Y/N you should tell me these things, I’m your doctor! I can prescribe you something!”

“Right, I just didn’t know how to talk to you after that day”.

“Oh. Right, I understand. Well, let’s get you something at the pharmacy before we get dinner, what are you in the mood for?”

He helps me clean up the kitchen and lock up the diner and we talk about the girls and Sam, nurse Maria’s latest antics at the hospital and how much he’s missed my pies. After an hour or so, we get into his car, I turn on the radio and we enjoy the music while he drives away.

~

Always on my mind

Always alone

You could be miles and miles away

But somehow you're close

If I can't have the cake

And I can't eat it too

I guess the sound of your voice and the ache

It'll just have to do

Cause the trouble with wanting is I want you

The trouble with wanting is I want you

The trouble with wanting is I want you

And I want you all the time

-

We stop by the pharmacy and I wait in the car while Bucky goes inside to get some pills that are supposed to help me keep down my meals instead of puking them out, he also brings me an ice lolly to help my dizziness and nausea. We park at an Italian restaurant and I notice a man and a woman get into the car next to us. He’s here and he brought Alice. Bucky’s about to get out to open my door when I grab his hand.

“Stop”.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again?”

“Yes, but it’s not-” I sight and signal Bucky to look over my shoulder.

He sees them too and his eyes grow angry at the man who used to love me.

“Do you want us to leave?” He says without taking his eyes off of Quentin.

“No, I think they’re leaving, let’s just wait here”.

“You sure? Do you want me to go out there and confront him?”

“What?! No! Why would I- no, it’s fine, Bucky. That’s just gonna make things worse, he was already jealous of you at the hospital, I could tell. I don’t need any other obstacle in the way of divorcing his lying, cheating ass”.

Bucky finally looks at me when they drive away and holds my hand in his. He brings his lips to my knuckles and steps out of the car to open my door. We enter the dimly lit restaurant and a young waiter takes our order. Bucky gets the pesto spaghetti and I order the chicken marinara.

“You don’t deserve this. I know you know you’re better off without him but still, he was your husband and you loved him once, so… I’m sorry you had to see them together”.

“Thank you. I’m alright though. I guess seeing him with Alice made it even more tangible, permanent, but maybe that’s exactly what I needed to get motivated and work my ass off until I can pay that lawyer and be done with this quickly”.

“Hey, speaking of that, did you pay the hospital bills already?” 

“I will, on Monday, after that I can start saving up for the divorce and when the birth happens I might have to ask for a loan. I don’t know how, but I’m determined to get through this, for my baby”.

“I respect you for that, but Y/N, you really don’t have to work your ass off, matter of fact, for your own health and your baby’s, you shouldn’t. Here’s what’s gonna happen: you’re gonna let me pay for the past hospital bill- and before you say anything, being a doctor there, I’m sure they will give me a discount, so you don’t have to worry about it, you can keep your savings and call that lawyer as soon as possible, okay?”

I look straight ahead and think about it for a minute. We had this conversation before and I think it’s time for me to stop being so proud and stubborn. The sooner I get rid of Quentin, the better it’ll be for my own peace of mind.

“Okay. But-”

“No, no buts! You’re gonna take it and I’m also going to pick you up from work from now on, you shouldn’t be walking after long hours of standing. When I’m done for the day at the hospital I’ll give you a ride home, when I’m late and have to stay extra hours Sam will drive you home, alright?”

“Wait, how d’you know Sam?”

“Um. it’s a long story, but we talked about this and he agreed”.

“Alright then”.

“Alright then”. He echoes my words and I scoff at him.

“I didn’t know you were so bossy, Doctor”.

“I’m not”. He smiles down at me from across the table. “I care about you and I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure you get through this in one piece. This baby is only going to be a healthy, happy little girl if her mamma is also healthy and happy”.

“Right now I’m pretty happy”. I admit and take a bite from my plate.

“Yeah? Italian food makes you happy. Duly noted”. He winks and I feel so complete in this moment. There’s nothing that could pop this little bubble we’re in. 

-

chapter 10: I didn’t plan it

[samanthadalton]

Rumour has it

Takes place after chapter 2, mc (I called mines Josie) confronts Sam about being engaged) 

pairings: mc (Josie) x f! sam 

tags: @cloud9in

word count: 1.6k 

The night after your encounter with Sam, if you wanna call making out with your boss on your first day on the job an encounter, you wake up feeling uneasy. The feel of Sam’s plush lips still linger on your lips, the heat of her body and how it molded perfectly against your own. The way she tangled her tongue with yours, and how her moans set your entire body alight. But after the kiss was abruptly interrupted by Sam’s alleged fiancee, you couldn’t help but be curious about Sofia. 

After your talk with the boys last night, it was obvious that Sam was in some sort of relationship with Sofia, but you can’t help but wonder why it was so easy for her to lose control around you. How easy it felt being her arms. How your kisses felt like something you’ve done thousands of times. You remember the feeling of your heart shattering when Jenny found the Star Gossip article, which reported Sam’s unofficial announcement of her engagement. But you can’t shake the feeling that there must be more to the relationship since Mickey and Mason confessed that they’ve never even caught the pair kissing. 

All you know is that you need to talk to Sam, no matter how much you may be dreading it. 

You leave your bedroom determined to find Sam so you can arbitrate any feelings or concerns about what happened last night. The house is weirdly quiet considering two 7 year old boys live here but you feel a little dejected when you find a note from Sam attached to the fridge, ‘Took the boys to the park, enjoy your day off, Sam’. 

‘Well that saves me a couple of hours from an awkward conversation’. You decide to text the only person who could give you some advice, so you pull up Jenny’s contact info and facetime her. 

‘Wait… YOU KISSED HER? OH MY GOD!” 

‘Jenny I told you to not to freak out’ you balance the phone in your hand holding it up to show your frowning face while Jenny is totally freaking out, her face moving in and out of the frame as she frantically waves her arms around screaming. 

‘Jenny! Please! Just help me. What do I even say?’ 

Jenny hears your pleading tone and calms down a little, but she struggles to hide her ardor as her smile beams brightly at you. ‘Okay fine but I want the details about the kiss once I’m done helping you’ 

You exasperatingly roll your eyes as you reluctantly agree to give Jenny the full details of your kiss and you eagerly await for her advice. 

‘Why don’t you just ask her for the truth?’ 

You throw your hands up in the air, ‘gee, why didn’t I think of that, come on Jenny be serious’

‘I am okay? Just listen’ her voice is unusually commanding as she settles down on her bed and looks at you dead in the eye as she continues,’ look, judging by everything you’ve told me, I really think you should just be straight up with Sam. She seems like she’s a straight to the point no BS kinda girl, and you’re never gonna get the answers you want if you play it carefully. Don’t beat around the bush, just deadass ask her, are you engaged and see what she says’ 

As you contemplate Jenny’s words you realise that she does have a point, honestly is the best policy after all. After indulging in Jenny’s pleas and giving a full detailed report on the kiss as well as some casual small talk, you relax in the living room with the tv on, your thoughts drifting to the inevitable conversation you will have with Sam once she gets home and you mentally prepare yourself for any outcome, though you’re hoping that it ends with a happy ending for you. You suddenly hear the elevator doors ding and Mickey and Mason’s voices echo throughout the apartment. 

You look up to see two very sweaty boys running towards the bathroom and as you get up to go to the kitchen, Sam creeps up behind the counter, her soft voice startling you. Your mind flashes back to the night before, recalling that same tone, how low and husky her voice was, as she spoke about how much she wanted you, how she couldn’t stand to be so close to you without feeling like an animal. Now as you stand within the same vicinity, the energy is different, like everything has changed. 

Sam raises her eyebrows a little, and you shake out of your reverie, and give Sam a small smile, ‘hey Sam can we uh’ you’re cut off as Mason and Mickey enter the kitchen and run towards the pizza boxes on the counter. 

‘Hey Josie guess what? Mason jumps excitedly in his spot and you give him a huge smile, ‘what?’ 

‘Mickey and I went to the park today and I totally beat him in tag’ 

‘No you didn’t, I told you you only tagged me because my shoe laces came off’ 

The boys continue to squabble as Sam briskly claps her hands together, ‘Come on boys enough, you were at least too fast for me huh? I think you guys cheated a little when I was it’

‘No way!! You’re just too slow mom’, Sam ruffles Mickey’s hair and they all settle on the stools getting ready to eat. 

‘Josie we weren’t sure what you like so we got you a pepperoni pizza’ 

You gratefully take the box from Sam, your fingers brushing together slightly and you feel electricity coursing through your body. You’ve barely touched Sam but you feel the heat rising to your cheeks and judging by Sam’s clenching jaw, you know you’re not the only one who feels it. 

After eating and engaging in some enlightening conversation with the boys about the newest game craze, you stay behind to clean up while Sam gets the boys ready for bed. 

You ball up your hands, knuckles turning white as you try to remember Jenny’s advice to ask for the truth, no matter how devastating the answer may be. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as Sam ambles into the kitchen, her expression looking bleak as she clears her throat. 

‘Sorry, I just wanted some water before I head to bed’ she moves towards the sink, her back to you but you mentally steel yourself before blurting out, ‘can we talk?’ 

Sam freezes in place, you can’t see her face, but you can only imagine the tormented look on her face as she bows her head slightly down and speaks out, ‘if it’s about the boys taking the subway, it’s fine Josie, just don’t do it again’. 

You can’t help but feel a little bit hurt but angry as she attempts to dismiss what happened last night so you walk towards her and grab her wrist to spin her around. The contact of your hand touching her thrills you, so you quickly let go of her arm and take an abrupt step back trying to control your heartbeat as it thumps in your ears. 

‘That’s not what I meant and you know it Sam, please I just need to know’ 

Sam’s face looks conflicted as her brows furrow and her lips are curled down but she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and stares directly into your eyes, her face looks emotionless, her eyes blank. ‘What did you want to know?’ her voice is devastatingly monotone but her jaw flinches a little indicating that she might already know what you’re about to ask.

‘Are the rumours true? About you and Sofia being engaged?’ You bite the inside of your cheek as you anticipate Sam’s answer. 

Sam looks dumbfounded, her expression crestfallen as she struggles to answer your question.

‘Come on Sam, I deserve an answer, are you or are you not engaged it’s not a difficult question’

‘Yes’ 

‘Yes?’ No matter how much mental preparation you took beforehand, the familiar anguish you once felt when you found out about Sam’s engagement returns and your stomach begins to flip as you try to control your emotions, grappling to keep a stoic expression so Sam doesn’t see how much her answer hurts you. 

‘It’s not like that Josie, okay? It’s complicated, last night i-’ 

You slice your hand through the air cutting her off, anger quickly filling up inside of you, ‘you’re engaged Sam, that’s it. I know I crossed a line when I kissed you but you should’ve stopped me’ 

‘I couldn’t’ her voice cracking as she shakily breathes in and out, ‘Josie there’s so much you don’t know’ she reaches out to you but stops, her hands hover near yours but she pulls back at the last second. 

‘Sam, I can’t. I really need this job and I don’t want one stupid mistake to ruin that’ 

‘So it was a mistake to you?’ 

You ignore the dulling ache of your heart as you swallow and answer, ‘yes, it was unprofessional and won’t happen again’ 

You swear that Sam’s face completely falls for a second before the weight of your words settle and her face returns to that same emotionless one, ‘I agree. I apologize Josie, I should’ve never indulged in it. I just hope we can move forward from this since you seem to be the perfect fit for the boys’ 

You nod, unable to find the words as your heart only hurts more, and with that you turn and retreat back to your room. As you lay on your bed you wonder if staying is the right decision, but you know that you need this job and your mind can’t help but wonder what did Sam mean by it being complicated.

[dovveling]

Why must you keep giving me opportunities to spam your ask box 😔

❣️ When did your OC first realise they were in love? How did they react to the realisation?

💍 Which one of them would propose? How would it happen? (or write if you feel like it!)

💋 Who is the best kisser? (if you’d like write a short smooch scene!)

BESTIE THANK YOU FOR ENABLING ME I'VE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE A WEDDING SCENE--

❣️ When did your OC first realize they were in love? How did they react to the realization?

- Unfortunately, it was love at first sight-- Even if Iolas would rather drop dead than admit this. He probably saw the incredibly ostentatious portrait of Lucio in his wing and was taken aback by how attracted he was to this man who was supposedly dead. It only got worse after Lucio got attached to Iolas through the ghost binding within canon-- Iolas the whole time thinks Lucio's romantic advances are just for fun and doesn't expect Lucio to love him at all. All the While he's completely in love with Lucio. (even if he acts like a rude little shit to him 50% of the time) It isn't until Lucio asks him to go traveling in the upright ending that's when Iolas realizes that Lucio is serious about him and even if it scares the shit out of him he can't help but believe him. The events of everything come crashing onto him and he realizes that He's 100% in love and cannot escape it.

💍 Which one of them would propose? How would it happen? (or write if you feel like it!)

(THANK YOU-- I will put this under a read more because the next two answers will be LONg but look under if you wanna see two idiots fall in love)

The sun hung low in the sky as Lucio makes his way to the palace gardens. He has asked Iolas to meet him out by their favorite spot in the garden maze. the blonde smiles remembering how the two of them had found the hidden spot while goofing around and shoving each other into the hedges. It wasn't until one hard push sent Lucio through the hedge and where he expected to land on his ass but he found himself on the other side of a portal with Iolas calling for him from the other side. After Lucio had ushered the other man through the portal the two looked over a hidden meadow that seemed to be somewhere close to the center of the maze.

Lucio could picture it perfectly; the stark white gazebo in the center, the perfect sun rays that sprinkled the fluffy grass, and the willow tree with its small leaves that dripped and trickled. He loved when the wind would blow and the tendrils of the willow would tickle up the wooden beams of the gazebo and scare Iolas into laughter every time the leaves would brush against his lover.

As Lucio draws closer to the portal before he stops and stares at the ring he had spent hours picking out. He had never fussed so much over a gift for someone. He never had to worry about gift-giving, because anything he picked out was glamorous and simply perfect. this however wasn't just a gift. It was a question. It was a statement and soon as he would think he was close to picking he would look and see a flaw and wonder if Iolas could see it and if he did then he'd never get to hear the answer he so desperately wants to hear to the question He'd rather not be asking.

So many times Lucio doubled back on himself about the personal. Is this just too much? could he see himself getting married when his last marriage was such a failure? Then He would hear it. Iolas' laugh and the sunlight hitting his lover's coffee skin and every reservation burned away and was replaced with a deep desire to make this person his and only his.

Lucio steels himself as he pockets the ring, almost dropping the bottle of champagne he forgets he was holding. As he pushes through the portal the blonde's heart skips a little at the sight of his lover resting on the side of the white gazebo, wearing a white robe that Lucio had gotten commissioned to match his iconic white suit. His lover seems to be lost in thought, their crimson eyes gazing over the tree line until Lucio steps closer and knocks on the wood with a playful tune. His wolfish smile triggering a similar one on his lover's face.

"Hi, my Darling--" Iolas starts before pulling Lucio over by his collar to meet his lips. With a giggle, Iolas watches Lucio hop over the median of the gazebo instead of using the very close opening that's just a little be over to the side of them. Lucio tries to steady his face. He doesn't want to come off too excited or nervous. He needs to play it cool so Iolas doesn't suspect anything, but it's too late Iolas gives him a curious look. "What are you planning? I know that look."

Lucio however holds his hands up after he places the bottle of champagne down on the railing in front of them. "Why do I always have to be up to something huh? Can't a man just meet his lover in a secret hole in the woods for some late-night drinking and maybe some late-night macking?" the blonde throws the magician a wink, which is met with a playful smack that Lucio is too found of.

"Did you bring glasses, Oh Count of Macking?" Iolas teases with a click of his tongue and to that Lucio's face freezes for a second because he did not think about the glass part of drinking, but his shock lasts for a split second before he nudges his lover with an elbow and a cheeky grin. "Can't you just magic something up for us--" Before Lucio can even finish Iolas throws his head back, his whole body shakes with a genuine laugh, one that Lucio only sees when Iolas reacts to his particular stupidity. "Absolutely not. I cannot manifest glassware, but fret not Lulu I prepared for this." The silver-haired man stands on the railing of the gazebo and reaches up behind one of the posts and brings down two champagne glasses. Lucio helps the shorter man down before taking both glasses and leaning down to give his lover a short kiss on the head.

Snickering to himself Lucio places the glasses down and pops open the champagne. "See? Who needs magic when you have a lover who has the spirit of a squirrel. Why are those even up there?" Iolas can't seem to hold back his laugher and starts into a long dialogue about how the last party they hosted he was tasked with disposing of all the drinks Lucio downed after getting into a drinking match with Julian and at some point, he got too fed up hauling all the empty glass wear to and fro so he eventually gave up and used the portal which was much closer than the garbage. Soon as he finishes that story Lucio makes note that not only does he not remember this drinking contest at all, but he also notices that the whole upper layer of the Gazebo is littered with small drinking glasses of all shapes and sizes.

This brings the two of them to a comfortable speed of talking, to which Lucio adds more flavor by introducing the drinks. The sun finally settles and the garden lights are now on and thanks to all the glass wear in the gazebo there are small reflected lights scattered within their own space. Slowly the stories of their day dwindle and eventually, they huddle close to each other so they can look under the top of their gazebo and point out stars. Lucio watches the small warm lights bounce off his lover's face and his heart races. He can't chicken out now.

"Iolas." Lucio stops the silver-haired man mid-sentence as the other was just going on about his zodiac sign and how it will be visible in the sky until he hears his name.

Iolas pauses fully, not use to hearing his full name exit his lover's lips unless it was during a more intimate and scandalous situation. So he hides his hesitation with a smile and he answers the blonde with the same tone he just used but extracted with a deeper tone to lighten the mood. "Lucio." The count starts to fidget but just laughs when Iolas mocks his serious tone. "No really, uh... Listen for a second." Iolas' face now turns from curious to worried. " Uh oh. that's a real serious tone. What did you do?" Lucio brushes him off, biting his lip and rubs the back of his neck. He feels so lame doing this, but that's the point.

Lucio stands up straight taking Iolas' hands, looking directly into those red eyes. Something in him wants to run away, but the ring sits heavy in his pocket and he opens his mouth only to close it so he can bring Iolas' cold fingers to his lips. Iolas' however is completely taken aback. His lover has been romantic before but he was much more used to their back a forths of one-upping each other and superficial hyping each other up coupled with nightly flings where he ended up in the blonde's bed. So this sudden tenderness was jarring.

The magician could feel that dark feeling creep to his shoulders that say he shouldn't get his hopes up, that he's happy filling the count's time till he finds a real suitor. Even if Lucio was a temporary General at the palace was still a completely different status then Iolas and Royals don't have court magician as suitors. So he was happy to bid his time with Lucio because even with the teasing and snarky remarks that sometimes hurt Iolas' loved the other man's company, but love doesn't change status. Love doesn't guarantee a happy ending. He knew this from experience and learned his lesson the hard way.

So It was the last thing Iolas' expected when the taller man pulls out the biggest ring the magician has ever seen and gets down on one knee. Iolas' first thought is that he wants to shake his head so he can wake up. Then when air fills his lungs he realizes he is awake and this is happening. More than happening he's been silent for too long but all he can hear is the stinging sound of his fears buzzing in his head. The buzz is deafening and He can see that Lucio is speaking but he can't hear him.

You will just disappoint him. Iolas' thoughts curse. Better yet he'll disappoint you somehow. A shaky breath leaves him and all he can do is blink and look at Lucio with watery eyes. "I-- I'm sorry please can you say that again." Iolas stops and closes his eyes just so he doesn't have to look at the ring that's almost blinding with its meaning.

Lucio's normal wolfish grin falters but only returns once he hears Iolas speak. "I said. We should get hitched, ya know?" Lucio sputters, shit. "Look. Like I was saying we're surrounded by losers, Pet. Who else am I gonna get to match me other than you huh? come on, look at me. Then look at you! we're perfect for each other.. ya know?" Lucio now looks nervous as he speaks. Unable to keep eye contact. ...and.. I love your laugh."

This seems to pull Iolas' from his fears a little even enough to get him to let out a weak laugh. "What? what does that have to do with anything?" Lucio pouts and glares at his lover just a tiny bit. "I love your laugh! and I don't want anyone else to have it. I deserve it, I get you to do it most and I think you owe me. So like.." Lucio ushers Iolas' to the ring, his legs are starting to buckle. "I wouldn't admit this to anyone else but my knees aren't what they use to be so can we--" Iolas stops him with a curt turn, his shoulders shaking.

The blonde stands suddenly, his whole body rigid. This was it. the rejection he warned himself about. He's ruined everything, his heart screams to go back. Iolas is probably laughing at the proposal and Lucio's tacky way of offering himself. It isn't until the sound of a stuffy nose echo through the silent night that Lucio realizes his lover is crying and instantly he steps forward a different kind of fear gripping his heart. " W-wait-- wait, why are you crying? You never cry--" He falters and fidgets his hands around his lover unsure if he wants to be held or not.

Iolas turns finally, his red puffy eyes are turned down in a grimace as they glisten in the dim light. "Yeah, you idiot I never cry and look at what you made me do." His tone is harsh but it's followed by a sad shake that ruins any intention of anger. "Lucio I... I don't know how to do this." Lucio's heart slows but he's thrown for a loop and Iolas can sense his confusion and clears his throat as he wipes his leaking eyes. "No one has ever, wanted me like this before. I don't know if I can-- How do you know you want this? What if I disappoint you? What if you get tired of me and regret ever meeting me? At least if we keep things like before you can just get rid of me if I'm too much and I won't have to--" Lucio stops Iolas this time as he brings his lover close by pulling on his crossed arms.

"You won't have to worry about falling in love?" The blonde answers with his own sense of sadness, his eyes looking down at their feet before meeting with Iolas' who only nods in response. Lucio is a bit thankful that his lover didn't outright say no and is at least contemplating the idea of things. "No I had the same thoughts and honestly I don't know how I'm sure. I just... am." Lucio's normal bravado comes back now that he feels more secure in the conversation. "I know that I love seeing you every day. I know that I love sleeping with you every night. I know that I don't want anyone else to hold you the way I hold you and I know that you feel the same way about me." At that the blonde swallows hoping he isn't wrong. "But mostly I know I don't ever want you to leave. If you were to leave, do you know how fucking boring this place would be? I would set the parlor on fire within minutes of you being gone." The cheeky grin is back and Iolas snorts at the idea and manages a smile as he is now fully embraced by his lover.

Lucio rests his head on the shorter man's head and hums, kissing the top of it. Slowly he pulls Iolas back so he can look down at him. "But it's not just about what I want... you kinda need to want those things too." Now it's Iolas turn to nervously look away and slowly as the shorter man's courage builds he tights his grip in Lucio's jacket and more tears fall down his face as the realization comes crashing onto him that he'd do absolutely anything to be with the man in front of him forever. Before He can answer he shoves his face into Lucio's jacket rubbing his head back and forth on the soft fabric. "You moron-- Of course I want all that."

The blonde can't resist the urge to tease the other man however and laughs to himself. "I'm sorry, could you say that again I couldn't hear you from inside my jacket." Iolas hits the taller man's chest with a laugh before he goes to wipe his damp eyes yet again. "You know for a fact that I said YES-- urgh, gods look at what you did to my make searing the hell am I going to fix this now--" Iolas' whining is stopped short by his lover picking him up in a searing kiss that continues as the blonde twirls them both. With a firm grip on Iolas' was it Lucio Looks up at the magician with a smile that could blind the gods. "I wanna hear you say it." Iolas rolls his eyes, a large pout crosses the silver-haired man's lips as he kicks his legs from his newfound lifted position.

"I have zero ideas what you're talking about--" Iolas protests but Lucio shakes his head. "Say it or you are never leaving this gazebo." Iolas is about to rebuttal but the look in Lucio's eyes is that yes he is serious. Iolas' expression softens, even if it's despite himself. "Of course I'll marry you, LuLu." Lucio bounces in his spot and spins the both of them once again but this time continues to spin around the whole gazebo till Iolas can't help but laugh and struggle against the crazy man holding him. "Stop-- Lulu Stop we're gonna--" but it's too late. Lucio's legs trip over themselves and with zero grace they both tumble onto the hardwood floor.

Iolas rolls onto his back and groans, dizzy and sore his eyes dart over to the man beside him who is just as dazed. slowly Iolas entwines their hands with a smile and Lucio is about to kiss his lover's fingers before he remembers the ring. The blonde springs forward, getting up like the fall meant absolutely nothing but Iolas takes his time sitting up as his lover fumbles to find the ring he dropped.

Soon as it's found Lucio slides over, the scraping sound of the fabric of the taller man's pants on the hardwood makes the magician giggle. Iolas has to give the other man sheer points for his enthusiasm. Pompously Iolas sticks his left hand out, to which Lucio plays along and kisses the other man's ring finger dramatically before slipping the large ring onto Iolas' hand.

Carefully Iolas' holds his hand out to the light and observes the sheer size of the ring and can't help but grin. Lucio practically radiates waves of anticipation on his lover's thoughts "Was this the biggest ring they had?" Iolas wiggles his fingers, acting as if he's unimpressed. Lucio simply feeds back into him. "How dare you." Lucio sneers, pulling Iolas into his lap as he sits, unable to be on his knees any longer. "I had this one custom ordered. Not only is it the biggest ring in stores, but it's also the biggest wedding ring, period." He speaks into the shorter man's neck before he kisses it, The count's tone never faltering while he speaks. This sends Iolas into a giggle fit. He knows for a fact that this ring physically cannot be the biggest but another part of him can see Lucio putting up a fight with store owners about the pitful size of their rings to the point where he just orders them to make him a whole new size.

"Of course, I knew my Lulu would only get me the best. He not capable of anything less." Lucio preens in the praise and Iolas strokes the back of his fingers against his lover's face. For a moment they stay like that, both of them processing what exactly just happened and what this means for their future. Iolas is the first to break the silence with a soft hum as he presses against Lucio's chest. "Thank you... Lucio." the taller man responds by nuzzling his nose into the shorter man's hair with a confused hmm. "I never thought I could do this... but for the first time, I'm not scared." Lucio smiles at that. and squeezes his lover in his arms.

"Good. We can both be fearless together."

💋 Who is the best kisser? (if you’d like write a short smooch scene!)

(I WILL TRY MY BEST TO KEEP THIS SHORT SINCE I JUST WROTE YOU A WHOLE FIC ON ACCIDENT ON MY LAST ONE)

The sound of wood creaking fills the otherwise quiet room as Lucio pushes his lover against the doors of his chambers. Lucio places on hand on the hip of the man under him and huffs a breath through his nose that leads to a soft moan as their lips bump against each other awkwardly for a second. Iolas snickers within the brief pause and pulls Lucio down by his collar. Now controlling their embrace the shorter man pushes the blonde backward and with a searing bite, he slams the count onto the disgustingly huge bed placed in the middle of his room. Breathless Lucio stares up at Iolas his bottom lip red and puffy from the bite, which only makes Lucio's slurry grin look even more dangerously attractive.

Iolas steps in between his lover's spread legs and uses one of his hands to tip the taller man's head back with a grunt. Lucio's hands wander over the man before him, knowing his place he doesn't try to switch their positions. He loves when Iolas gets pushy he knew if anyone could match him in greediness it would be his lover. Iolas however preoccupies himself with tracing his thumb over Lucio's red bottom lip till his nail presses a little too hard and draws just a few drops of blood to the surface of his lover's pale skin.

At the sight of this Iolas captures The count's lips once against and shamelessly sucks on the blood he just conjured. the kiss devolves as Iolas holds Lucio's head still with the grip on his hair and once the magician pulls back Lucio's face flushes at the sight of his blood dripping from his lover's lips. Lucio's voice comes out breathy and needy as he pulls against Iolas' grip on his hair. "Do that again."