#AND HOPEFULLY. he lives many more years without getting his head blown up

[loving-delusions]

wild thought but imagine if lunar is able to harness the star's power

[myinnerstorms]

@coivi

Hands ran over his skin until the goosebumps raised just from the light touch. The fingertips paused at Dante's chin, tipping it up and he was met with a sweet, gentle kiss. Dante sat up suddenly from his sleep. He had sweat dotting his forehead by his hairline and hands felt clammy despite the air conditioning that was on full blast in the room. Why he couldn't get a full night's sleep was beyond him. He's been waking up with the man he met a few months ago on his mind nearly every damn day. No one has plagued him this much in years and quite frankly it was weighing heavier each time he had that dream. He sat up at the edge of the bed and turned on the small lamp by the bedside table to illuminate the dark room. It was the guilt that was deep inside him because he left Cyrus without saying a word. It was probably for the best knowing his track record with lovers in the past so he saved both of them the trouble of breaking it off later on when things got hard. Yet... something ached inside of him. Years passed by Dante and he's never once felt something like this when leaving someone until this man. It was almost as if he missed Cyrus. There was something oddly comforting about the man that Dante yearned for... acceptance and warmth was what came to mind when he thought of Cyrus. After Dante had left Cyrus, he went straight to his friend's place. Calix has known Dante since they were young, the wraith treated him like a brother since day one. Ever since then, he's been staying at his estate picking up odd jobs to obtain money and helped Cal around the house. Something Calix said kept eating away at him.

It's okay to let someone in... don't push away your feelings because of the past.

"Fuck." Dante was riddled with guilt the more he thought about what he was told and despite the mischevious antics of his wraith friend, he spoke nothing but the truth. Cyrus might have forgotten about him, but he sure didn't forget about Cyrus. There was only one way to find out. Dante hurried to grab a dufflebag and shove clothes and some necesisites for a trip. He ignored Calix chuckling in the kitchen as he ran out the door.

"About time you came to your senses, filos."

A one way ticket and fifteen hours later, Dante landed. The closer he got to where he remembered Cyrus to be, the harder his heart beat. He contemplated many times to turn and go back to his friend but he just needed... something. He honestly didn't know what he wanted, maybe closure at least if that's what was meant to be. Dante was numb in the car ride, not even realizing the light rainfall had turned into a full blown storm until he was dropped off at the end of the driveway with nothing but a small duffle bag of clothes. He looked up at the dark sky, rain splattering on his face as he stood there and got soaked from head to toe. The rain was cold, the wind made it colder, but Dante didn't care. He just needed to see him. He's never needed something so badly and it only grew the closer he stepped up to the house. There was no turning back now. Dante didn't remember knocking, or did he ring the doorbell? Either way, he stood there soaking wet and shivering waiting for hopefully Cyrus to open the door. Honestly he didn't know what to say when he saw him and nothing could come to mind other than an apology for disappearing on him. The door opened and there stood Cyrus, still as beautiful as ever, before a wet, cold, shivering Dante. Words escaped him, his mind went blank as he stared up at him. Maybe this was a mistake, this was so stupid of Dante to just show up out of the blue like this and unannounced. It amazed Dante how one person could make a demi-god feel so weak and vulnerable just by being in his presence like Cyrus did right now. "Cy-Cyrus..." was all that came out of Dante as a shiver rolled through his body. He couldn't look away from him, the guilt and the pain from the years he's lived feeling alone hit him all at once and it showed in his eyes. Seeing him again made his heart ache even more. He needed someone in his life and his heart and soul said it was Cyrus, the man who made Dante feel more alive and accepted in so many years. Dante just needed to be held and to be comforted and he hoped maybe... just maybe Cyrus would be the person to do that.

[berryylll]

Chaos

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

a/n : wrote this as a prompt based off my friends cat ☆

CW!! : Explosions, wounds, gore, implied animal death, implied human death, intense situations

wc : 670

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

Chaos. Ok well not literal chaos but chaos the cat! Garrett was sitting in his bed with the cat, petting chaos as they scrolled through their phone. Then a loud buzzing came from outside, then a boom and next thing Garrett knows, his hand, previously petting the black cat, was gone. Blown off. As was the rest of the house, and chaos nowhere in sight. What happened? An unanswerable question at the time, no context known besides an obvious explosion had happened. Garrett couldn't think of much, ringing and dizziness filling his head like cotton stuffed in a jar. He stood up shakily, stumbling to find a solid surface until he made it to the crumbling door frame. Door burnt but partially intact. The rest of his room looked like a ruin from some kind archeological site. Dust, concrete, smote wood broken and trashed everywhere. Including his hand, just sitting there on the ground roughly blown off and halfway there. Oh shit. With the realization he was going to be sick, correction, apparently he already was, in the midst of throwing up as recognition came to him. Garrett clutched the frame for some sort of grounding, a sort of stability to at least keep him standing. ‘This can’t be happening’ he thought, trying to get his mind to focus.

It smelled like burning garbage and popcorn smoke from a microwave. It only furthered the nausea he was feeling. He had to find someone and get help, there's no way he could stay here without medical attention. His mom was a doctor, he's sure she could help. But she was at work last time he checked, hopefully she came home after the explosion. Was it always this hot? Garrett walks out to the living room, also crumbling just as he found out the rest of the house was. He could hear screaming outside but was too exhausted and unfocused to check. The sound felt like a car swerving on a rocky road. Garrett didn’t know how that was possible but didn't enjoy the sound of it hitting his eardrums either way. Thankfully he still had working eardrums. No one was on the ground floor so he made his way to the basement. He stood at the stairwell of the entrance internally hating the experience of what it was gonna be like going down the stairs. When he got down there after throwing up one more and two quick trips to grab his bearings he found Goose and his mom hiding. His mom was frantically trying to patch up the burn wounds and almost melting skin on Goose’s face. Goose was Garrett's younger sister, her real name was Gracey but 5 year old Garrett thought Goose sounded better then her birth name. So it sort of stuck. “Am I interrupting a cuddle session?” Garrett spoke hoarsely, surprised he could speak at all.

“Garrett! Oh holy shit!”Goose said, surprised at his very presence, their mom was quick to correct the vulgar language.

But she let it go quickly, getting up to usher Garrett over, checking him quickly. Her eyes landed on his hand and those same eyes widened in absolute horror, worry and shock all at once. It felt like he was being cared for by an angry crow. A squawking and trembling voice erupting from his mother as she got something to cut off the circulation quickly shoving a bottle of water and an apple in his face. To which Garrett ate though hesitating at some point because of his already upset and uneasy stomach. Despite her wounds, though already bandaged, Goose would not stop asking questions about what happened to him, he answered as many as he could with his head slowly returning back to a somewhat normal state. After his forearm had been wrapped in a tourniquet, his mom told him how they had ended up down in the basement, thankfully safe from all of the horrible radiation and damage. Oh man did they have a lot to catch up on…

[echos-newlegs]

So this is an NSFW Alphabet for Echo requested by @smallandangrey . They requested a Tech one as well, and an Echo fic so 😳 expect some more stuff.

I am still working on other requests in my inbox as well! Dw. Just worked on this since it was easier for my tired brain. Hopefully I can write an actual one-shot tomorrow 😌💕💕

No tags since this is strictly nsfw and I don't wanna make the tags uncomfortable 😳 idk it's late and I'm overthinking lmaoo

Echo NSFW Alphabet below the cut

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Since the citadel Echo has been real into affection. Especially with you. It often grounds him and reminds him that he's there, you're there, this is real. This is happening. So when the two of you finish he is almost always pulling you close to him. Though it did take some warming up, since at first he was really worried he'd hurt you or make you uncomfortable with his mechanical limbs. 

After sex he just enjoys a good cuddle. He Especially loves it when you let him lay his head on your chest and you hold him. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

After the citadel incident he's never really been into anything on himself. He'd have to say his eyes or his mouth. Since you always say you love his eyes, and his mouth seems to bring you the most pleasure from sex. Though I do hc only his thigh down were blown off in the explosion. He still isn't too sure about it since after citadel he lost a lot of his stamina and he doesn't last as long as he used to. 

On you, I see this hc a lot but it honestly makes sense to me. Don't ask why, but he is a tits man. He enjoys the softer, sweeter things in life. So your tits? Small or big? Sheesh he's on 'em like they're his will to live! He could lay on them, squeeze 'em, or even suck on them all night if you let him. After you got him to open up about what he wanted to try out. Which again- took some time. But he admitted he'd like to fuck your tits. It was awkward at first for him, but he absolutely nearly died after. Especially since that was probably the shortest he'd ever last with you. He just completely lost it, especially when you licked some of the cum that got on the corner of your mouth. He swears his soul left him for a second after that. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's not too into messes, but he does enjoy Cumming on your chest or your stomach. Echo doesn't really want to even try and risk accidentally impregnating you. Even if you are on the pill. Tech explained to him how even condoms AND the pill can backfire in numerous ways, and now he's just not risking it. So he normally just cums on your chest or. If you're okay with it, he'll finish in your mouth. Which also has him going absolutely nuts. 

As for yours? He loves it on his tongue. Eating you out is one of his favorite things to do, and when you cum from JUST his tongue? Absolutely heavenly for the man. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) 

Echo would be interested in trying out toys I fell. Especially with his mecho hand. He'd find add ons that gave you pleasure. Or was just enough to just tease you with. I feel like he would also have a dirty photo of you saved for just him when the two of you are apart. One that you don't know about so it just adds to his own thrill. 

 E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Echo at first after the citadel is fairly rusty. If the two of you were together before then he's really insecure he won't meet the expectations like he did before he was in stasis for almost over a year. If the two of you weren't together he's still insecure, but at least he knows that you don't know how he was in bed previous years before. 

He does in fact know what he's doing. His arc twin is Fives, and I am sure that door told him stories and hooked Echo up with at least one or two beings in their lifetime. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Since Echo is a tits man he likes you either on your back, riding him, or fucking you with a mirror in front of the two of you. The way your tits bounce mesmerize him and he loves having his mouth or hands on them while the two of you get nasty. What drives him absolutely feral is when you ride him and bring his hands up to your chest. Then squeeze your hands over his his while they squeeze your breasts. Absolutely divine. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It really depends on his mood. Echo has more of a sarcastic, dry sense of humor. So if he is feeling it he will crack a joke here or there, but not too many. If you two are having sex after a long mission where he thought he wasn't going to make it out(or if he didn't think you were, if you travel with tbb.) Then he's normally more serious and sappy while he fucks you slowly into the night. Reminding himself that he has you and you have him, still. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Echo is pretty well groomed. He doesn't like a mess, and plus it's too itchy for him when it gets too long. So he always keeps it trimmed down. Never shaved, since for one, he doesn't like the feel of it growing back. Then two he just doesn't like himself with no hair down there. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Echo is normally pretty romantic especially when it comes to sex. He doesn't fuck to fuck, he fucks for love. He normally only sleeps with people he has an absolute attraction to. Someone that he knows won't hurt him. Or at least believes they won't. So he normally does his best to keep the moment romantic and perfect for the two of you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Echo normally doesn't jack off too much. He usually waits to come home to you so the two of you can actually help each other feel good. Rather than a hand and his imagination. Though, if he does get a nasty picture of you? He won't hesitate to use it if the mission lasts longer than usual or he's extra stressed out from his crew mates. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise Kink: this boy will absolutely love you all night long, the more you praise him. Even simple things like "that feels so good," "you're so amazing," and stuff like that will push him further to make you feel absolutely angelic.

Not sure if this is a kink or what you'd call it, but man would die if you gave him a lap dance. Echo loves taking care of you, but when you take care of him?? He feels like the luckiest guy in the galaxy.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers the comfort of a bed. Where the two of you have time to appreciate everything you give each other. There has been a rare occasion or two where he gets a little handsy at 79s after a few too many drinks and a guy flirting with you. Where you find yourself getting fingered in the corner or fucked in the bathroom. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Echo loves it when you wear lingerie. Even if you don't think you look good in it he thinks you're absolutely beautiful no matter what. And if it's blue or white he goes feral. 

If you kiss him in front of someone hitting on him. Or hold his hand when he's being hit on. Show any signs that he is yours and you are his, he's probably going to take you the moment you two have time. 

Another big turn on for him is when you praise him throughout the day. Man can't resist it. Especially when you say it in a dirtier tone and act all innocent when he confronts you. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Bondages is a bug no from him. From all the times in the war he's been held in restraints, or he's witnessed his brothers and Generals in restraints he can't stand them. He can't even handle you in them. It triggers something in him that ruins the mood for the both of you. 

He doesn't like the thought of knife or gun play. If you or him are getting hurt in the process he won't do it. He may spank you playfully here or there, but that’s about it. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He honestly prefers giving over receiving. He loves it when you're a writhing mess and gripping at him or the sheets for dear life. The taste of you and the sound of your lewd moans has him nearly creaming his pants. Plus he just loves the satisfaction of knowing he can make you come undone like that. 

He isn't against you giving him oral here or there though. Some days he loves it, especially when he's stressed out and you just drop on your knees like some sort of gift from above. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Echo prefers a more slow and sensual pace. He loves making it last as long as he can. He is definitely one of those, "this could be out last time. Let's make it last." Type of guys. So expect more love making than fucking. Though there are time where he'll give you a good fuck. Maybe one of the nights where he does try and dom. Though it normally ends with you sitting on his face because he absolutely loves it when you do. If you suffocated him he would die a happy man. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn't too fond of them, but he isn't against them either. If he is doing a quickie he'd prefer to make sure no one caught you two. He'd probably die of humiliation.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Echo will only experiment if you recommend something new. As long as it isn't really messy/gross, the two of you stay safe through it, and restraints and blind folds aren't a part of it he's all good for it. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

After the citadel he lost a majority of his strength in general. Before he could last about 3-4 long rounds. Now he's lucky if he gets 2 in. He normally doesn't last too long either. Though after time he does begin to last longer and you're able to finish with him for the most part. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

His hand. As said above he uses his robotic hand for sex quite a bit. He adds on accessories. Anything to make his partner feel absolutely euphoric. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Echo enjoys teasing here or there on his end, but you can normally work your way around it. One simple please and he's normally doing what you want. You have him wrapped around your finger for the most part. 

He normally despises when you tease him. Mostly because he just hates begging for anything. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Echo is a talker and a groaner. He loves muttering sweet nothings in your ear, and will also praise you to the moon. Especially if you praise in return. He grunts and groans to the point the rest of tbb tease him about it til he's flushed red and trying to.make up excuses. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would like to try sharing you. He knows his brothers like you and has thought about sharing you with one or two of them at a time. He would take charge through it, since you are technically with him and not them, but he just thinks it would be exciting and fun. He doesn't know how to ask and is too anxious you would hate the idea to ask, though.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Echo lost a lot of his muscles while in stasis. He is slowly gaining that and his color back though. Along with getting upgrades for his prosthetics. Like an actual hand that Tech built for him. As for his dick, it's average clone size. Longer and thicker than the average person's.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His isn't really too high. Even once he gets used to the fact that you love him and his body, he doesn't really have that high of a sex drive. He controls himself pretty good and doesn't really even need to jack off much unless he's really stressed. That doesn’t mean he won't initiate sex with you the moment he sees you after a long mission though. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He for the most part tries to stay up, playing with your hair until your asleep above/below/beside him. Wherever the two of you decide to cuddle against one another. It's sort of his way of making sure it's all real though. Some nights he is the first to pass out though. 

[sanguineness-wings]

Why are you running?

(read on ao3)

Pairing: Hawks x gn!Reader

Rating: SFW

Warnings: bird traits/instincts

hawks/raptors have this instinct to chase and attack if you turn your back on them, so what if you accidentally trigger it 👀

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

The sun was dipping low on the horizon, sending amber rays of light between the tightly packed skyscrapers. You shield your eyes from the light as you step out of the convenience store, your groceries in hand. After you take a moment for your eyes to adjust, you note a small crowd gathering just up the sidewalk from you. And from the center of it sprouts a large pair of crimson wings.

It’s a dead giveaway, those wings were plastered everywhere across the city, on billboards, on buses. There’s no escaping Hawks’ image.

As you watch on, the man himself suddenly hovers above his adoring fans, stretching out his impressive wing span leisurely. Leaving you with a perfect view of his wind tossed hair kissed with dying sunlight and a lopsided smile on his lips.

It makes your heart clench as you look on with awe. He’s so effortlessly beautiful it hurts to look at him. It’s also incredibly intimidating. How can those fans just talk to him like it’s nothing. You couldn’t even imagine.

Your staring must have caught his attention as suddenly his gaze turns and locks onto yours. You feel your stomach lurch, frozen with embarrassment. Hawks has the audacity to offer you a softer smile, making your cheeks heat up instantly.

Your brain screams at you to leave now. Your shyness urging you flee the unexpected attention. So you sharply turn your back to the crowd, and the gorgeous Pro Hero, and hurriedly make your escape.

Without consciously knowing why, you take a final glance over your shoulder. Even with Hawks’ signature visor over is eyes, you can see his pupils dilate, nearly completely blown black before constricting to tiny pin pricks in a split second. His smile has fallen from his face, leaving behind a cold blankness. A shiver runs through you and a cold sweat breaks out under your collar.

Your brain unhelpfully supplies, “Haha, I’m in danger!” Adrenaline courses through your veins and you run. A full sprint down the sidewalk in panic. It’s a ridiculous response in hindsight, but you’ve never seen such an inhuman look on Hawks’ face.

You barely make it a few feet before you feel a gust of wind behind you and suddenly your vision is nothing but red. Massive wings envelope you entirely as powerful arms lock around your waist, almost bruising in their strength. You’re dragged to your knees as the body behind you curls over your spine. You feel the prickle of stubble against your neck and jaw, hot puffs of breath against your skin. You’re utterly trapped.

All logical thoughts are thrown out the window with your heart thundering against your ribs. You don’t dare move a muscle.

An indiscernible amount of time passes before you hear a huffed laugh next to your ear, making you shudder.

“Well, isn’t this embarrassing, damn. I’m really sorry about all this. Are you alright?” Hawks says in a tight voice as he slowly releases you from his grip.

You’re shaking as you awkwardly stumble to your feet, Hawks aiding with a gentle, gloved hand on your elbow. When you finally get the courage to glance at his face, your heart does a somersault in your chest. A light blush dusts the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks. He has a hand behind his head sheepishly, using the other to steady you on your jelly-like legs.

“I haven’t done something like that since I was a teenager in training,” he admits, bashfulness coloring his voice.

“…and what was that exactly?” You finally find your voice, wincing inwardly at how shaken it sounds.

“Oh you know, like…bird stuff? Well, hawk stuff? Like predator instinct?” Hawks shifts from foot to foot, looking anywhere but you.

“Like...you thought I was prey?”

“No! No, it’s not like that. Well, I mean kind of. But not really? It’s hard to explain. You turned your back and I just…couldn’t help myself. I’m really sorry. Did I hurt you at all?” Seeing this level of uncomfortableness on Hawks was so jarring from how he normally carries himself in the public eye. It was like all of his confidence was parred away. 

“I’m okay, really. Just gave me a fright, that’s all.” You’re really trying your best to sound casual, adding a weak laugh to hopefully defuse the tension.

He humors you, offering a half-hearted smile as he stoops down to gather up your groceries that you didn’t notice had spilled across the sidewalk.

"Well, if you’re sure you’re okay, I should be off. A hero’s job never stops.”

And with that he’s gone, taking off into the sky. You stand there dumbly on the sidewalk in shock for a few beats.

You then hear murmuring, whispering, and the click of photos being captured. Horrified, you realize Hawks’ fans were watching everything and recorded every second of it. You curse under your breath as you start rushing home, ignoring the growing crowd behind you. If Hawks wasn’t going to eat you alive, the internet certainly was.

---

Get it together, Hawks. What the hell was that?

The winged hero cursed at himself with gritted teeth and a furrowed brow as he shot across the sky. He shouldn’t have done that. He was trained not to do that. The Commission pushed him hard to ignore the animalistic pull to hunt and another traits they deemed unsightly or dangerous. And he had gotten good at suppressing those instincts. He passed all of their tests and drills after years of intense training. He never had a slip up since starting his Pro career.

His mind was racing as he tried to pin point what made him react like that. Did he let his guard down? Got too comfortable in the moment?

He thought of the way you trembled in his arms, immobilized with fear. The thundering of your panicked heart and the quiver of your voice. A shiver crept down his spine, making his hair and feathers stand on end. He liked it. The thrill of it all lighting up parts of his brain long neglected. 

A frustrated growl escaped his lips, lost to the roar of the wind around him. He really shouldn’t be entertaining those thoughts, even for a moment. He felt gross. 

He dug his phone from his pocket, sending a text to his PR manager. The least he could do was give them a heads up. Though pictures and videos of the whole incident were probably already circulating. His PR team had their work cut out for them, it was a seriously bad look for the hero. 

Almost immediately after he sent the text his phone buzzed angrily with replies from his team and an incoming call from the Commission. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach. It was going to be a long night.

---

The days following were a nightmarish blur of embarrassment and anxiety. Your brief brush with Hawks was plastered across every social media platform. You couldn’t escape all of the memes and GIFs. You wanted nothing more than to blink from existence.

Most people thought the whole thing was funny, even wishing it was them tackled to the sidewalk by Hawks. Your coworkers teased you mercilessly, constantly asking if you at least got his number afterwards. 

There weren’t many, but a few comments filled you with anger. They were using this to fuel for their hatred towards those with heteromorphic quirks. They claimed that this proved they were dangerous, nothing more than animals. Which, of course, was ridiculous. 

But you did your best to keep your head down and ignore the notifications on your phone. You kept reassuring yourself that this would all blow over soon. And sure enough by the end of the week the internet was distracted by “leaked” selfies of Hawks in grey sweatpants, posing in front of a bathroom mirror.

---

Hawks had just started an early morning patrol as he glided and weaved through the streets. He’d been taking on extra hours lately, finding it easier to distract himself on the job rather than staring at his bedroom ceiling. Who needed sleep anyway. If he stopped, all he could think about was you. The fear on your face. Your frantic pulse against his skin. Guilt gnawed away at him. He didn’t want to scare you, what type of hero would he be if he did. 

Instead of dwelling on the thoughts eating at him, he focused on the streets below him. It was relatively quiet, only a scattering of people going about their lives. He swooped lower, maneuvering between lamp posts just for his own entertainment. He pulled up short abruptly, nearly smacking into one of them.

His heart lurched in his chest, recognizing you immediately as you made your way down the street. He had a little mental battle with himself. Half of him wanted to talk to you, just reassure himself that you were truly okay after all this madness. The other have was telling him to leave you alone, that he’d only made it worse.

After hovering awkwardly for a few moments he made his decision. He made a show of circling ahead of you before landing, trying not to startle you. 

---

Having Hawks appear in front of you was the very last thing you expected on your walk to work. You had convinced yourself that you’d never see him again and that, even if your paths crossed, he wouldn’t want to be seen with you.

Yet here he was, with a charming smile on his face and feathers gleaming in the sun. 

You approach him cautiously, pulling out your earbuds. “Um, hi?” you start apprehensively, not sure what the hero could possibly want from you.

As you catch up to him he starts walking beside you, joining you on your commute. His wing stretches out behind you and curls around your side. Smart, you think. Even if the two of you catch someone’s eye, you were largely blocked from view.

It’s comfortably warm beneath his wing, with your shoulders brushing against each other as you walk. Your heart speeds up a little, being this close to him is a little overwhelming. Especially with the memory of him being pressed over you still fresh in your mind.

“So, I wanted to start over, if that’s alright with you. I don’t think I gave you the best first impression,” Hawks explains, his eyes fixed ahead.

“Definitely a memorable one,” you quip lightheartedly. You were more mortified by all of the unwanted attention. You knew deep down you were never in any real danger. 

Hawks snorts, making you glance at him. You watch him roll his eyes. “Not my best moment. I’m really sorry I scared you so badly. I swear I’m not going to hurt you, or anyone.”

It makes you pause as you stare at the side of his face. “I know you wouldn’t. And you didn’t even leave a mark. We can just say it was a...weird, unexpected hug. Leave it at that.”

Hawks’ gaze catches yours for a brief moment before looking away quickly, a serious look sliding onto his features. “You know that’s not what it was.”

“I know but...I’m not going to judge you for your bird stuff, or whatever it is. You’re still human. Even with the wings. We all have weird, awkward tendencies. I’m a mess of them too, and I don’t even have a Quirk. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.

“So don’t beat yourself up too much,” you say, gaining a bit of confidence the more you speak. “You’re not a monster.”

Silence stretches between the two of you, both lost in thought. You surprise yourself when you are the first to break it. 

“Besides, I thought we were starting over. I’m y/n,” you begin, nudging his shoulder with your own as you offer him a warm smile.

“I’m Hawks, but you already knew that. Say, why don’t I treat you to some coffee. There’s this great little cafe not far from here. They have these pastries that are to die for. Trust me, you’ll love it!” The hero chatters away, with you still safely tucked away under his wing.

[tempenensis]

Jujutsu Kaisen Light Novel #2

Firstly, @bonsai62​ provides me with raw text of this - so thank you very much! This is the first eight pages of the first chapter from the second light novel. That being said, I don’t know how much I get this translation right, but enjoy anyway. Though this is cut at bad point lol

The title of the light novel is Thorny Road at Dawn. Text in bold means that it is spoken in English. 

Chapter 1: Nobara and Toge

.

“About Toge?”

August has begun.

Under the overlapping form of trees in the schoolyard, Panda asks back to Kugisaki who he has been holding on his arm and turning over 180 degree.

For the upcoming exchange event, Fushiguro is also working hard to train as participating first year.

He is in the middle of training with assumption that one-vs-one sorcerer combat can break especially during the fight.

Even though she is training, Kugisaki is now thrown towards Panda – repeatedly thrown towards him in a stage. But because it seems that her motivation is high, she’s become into it, as long as in the end she can be successful facing Todo and Mai even just a little bit.

“Yes. I understand Maki-san is worth of my respect. I also know that Panda-senpai is sorcerer with ability.”

“I also want you to say the same thing about me like Maki.”

Kugisaki answers as she stands up and brushes away leaves attached to her jersey.

“I respect you. I’m not saying bullshit about Panda-san.” (1)

“Well, if you become able to chat while being blown away, I’ll praise you.”

“My body can easily remember just blown like this.”

“Hooon. Then”

Panda looks around, confirming that Toge who went to pharmacy has not come back.

“What about Toge?”

“What kind of senpai is he?”

“Eh, you don’t know from talking to him?”

“Not that I don’t understand. Well, I know he is not a bad person, but if all his vocabularies are riceball fillings, talking with him will be limited, right?”

“We already get too used to it, right Maki?”

“Aah. Now that you say it, it naturally becomes question.”

Maki is spinning around a staff, sending a sympathetic look to Fushiguro after she lightly avoids Fushiguro’s attack and land a small hit on his head.

“It hurts…”

“You are thinking too much again with your head.”

Maki joins the conversation as she glances at groaning Fushiguro. Out of breath but clean of dust, she circles around Panda calmly.

“Among us maybe he is the best at taking care.”

“Yeah, he has a bright personality (2). If you exclude Yuuta, then he is the number one good person in our year.”

“His flaw is that he can get carried away a little.” (3)

“Is he?”

“You are the one who always get carried away when we are together, that’s why you don’t know.”

“That’s unexpected. We are not like that though. We like to join in the fun.”

Kugisaki’s body fitness is finally reaching that point where she can chat while doing her training. Even then, the second years who are lightly talking among them without difficulty remembers existence of Kugisaki of August (4) in the nearby stage.

Just a bit when Panda’s attention is at Maki as they converse, Kugisaki tries to do a feint from the side and mixes it with an upper but—

“Anyway.”

“Geh.”

Panda sways easily, then he hesitates a little before swipe Kugisaki’s feet in sobat-like (5) kick.

Kugisaki, whose pivot foot collapses, falls down rolling. Her body becomes totally irresponsive. In several weeks here, it’s a movement that she kept thought she could do.

That said she becomes irresponsive and she can’t win the match.

As he looks down at Kugisaki who makes a discouraged face, Panda opens his mouth.

“Toge is a good guy. That alone you should know.”

“….I see.”

More than that, her body has become irresponsive and her back is hurting.

The frequency of her falling down sloppily has not reduced, also buying a replacement jersey have also becomes necessary -- Kugisaki at summer time thinks with melancholy.

.---.

The story continues when it has turn to fall.

After the incident of Yasohachi has passed, there’s a brief spare time.

At that day, Kugisaki is alone in Shibuya.

Fushiguro is locking himself up and reading in his room as he is still exhausted after he overexerted himself.

Itadori has gone out to watch a maniac movie in a cinema currently doing a whole-building screening.

Maki is currently on a mission different from Yasohachi bridge, so she can’t meet her conveniently in a while. Kugisaki who completely doesn’t have a plan, aims to go shopping to make-up and clothes shops which are hard to go with boys, then buy daily necessities.

“Winter clothes set, winter shoes, inner and foundation and…”

Grasping paper bags in both hands, she lifts them up as she confirms her haul today.

She doesn’t think she bought too much, but she has walked more than she had planned. Maybe wearing the pin heel boots she bought the other day is a bit mistake.

But it is a rare chance that she gets to go out and shop alone. There’s a lot she still needs to buy.

Kugisaki is thinking to go looking for bags next as she walks in traffic jam.

When she had just arrived in Tokyo, it all seemed to be glittering scenery. After around three months has passed, she gets used to it a lot, used to hearing noisy sounds.

That being said, it is a backside of being busy and lively. It’s a thing that’s called taste of convenience.

“And that, it is really a masterpiece.”

“Doesn’t it make you angry?”

“Hey, hey. Girl, are you alone? Are you free?”

“I’m in a hurry.”

“Salmon.”

“We’re opening a new shop! Please take care of us.”

“Are you not going to eat?”

“How much are you going to eat?!”

“It’s damned boring, how about we skip work today?”

“Mama, buy me that!”

A lot of voices. It’s an intersection where a lot of life collides.

There are daily life as many as the number of people, there are worlds as many as the number of people. In the city where many wills and voices flying around, of course there will be a lot of people who is feeling gloomy – but not Kugisaki.

For her who has a firm sense of self, she understands that everyone has their own way of living in the hustle bustle of the city, it even feels like a kindness.

Now that she thinks about it, the village where she comes from was suffocating.

An exclusivity that imitate the people who had come before (6). An ecosystem long existed that doesn’t recognize individuality of a person. A closed world that gently rot — exists there in that village, Kugisaki thinks.

Compared to the crowd of the city, it is tough yet she can live with freedom.

In the city, someone says that the concern towards other people is weak. Kugisaki laughs, thinking that is wonderful. She has her own way and won’t blame anyone over it. She will stand and walk with her own foot.

However, mixing in the city crowd during the holiday, a mysterious chance can happen.

“Hm?”

Kugisaki who walks towards the direction of Shibuya Hikarie (7) in the lane across the street, makes a face of remembering something as she found him. It is the only one of her acquittances who hides lower half of mouth with closed overly long collar.

It’s Inumaki Toge.

There is also another one. A male foreign tourist with thoughtful blue eyes who can’t be someone familiar. Kugisaki becomes interested on the exchange between the foreigner and Inumaki.

“What are they talking about?”

Kugisaki changes her destination, then crosses the road when the traffic lamp changes at the right timing, and strolls towards Inumaki. When she is near them, she overhears their talk.

“I’d like to go to SHIBUYA109.” (8)

“Salmon salmon.”

“Could you tell me where I can get a taxi?”

“Salmon roe.”

“Ah… Which way should we go?”

“Seaweed.”

“Ah…I, want to go. 109 (9). Please. Ok?”

“Salmon.”

“Shake?” (10)

“….Salmon?” (11)

“….Salmon!? Why?”

“Okaka…..” (12)

“Ee…?”

For some reason, in Kugisaki’s guess ten times over, it has become a troublesome situation.

She knows that Inumaki, who is a cursed speech user, only speaks in onigiri fillings to avoid sudden outburst of curse. How come that he is asked by foreigner tourist for direction.

No, Inumaki can use Inumaki’s way of showing the way – he points his finger and gestures using his body and hands. With that, she wonders if the foreigner becomes impatient (13) as Kugisaki decides to get in between the two of them.

“What are you doing, senpai?”

“Tunamayo.”

“It can’t be ‘tunamayo’. Jeez.”

“Oh! Geisha girl!”

“Who the heck is geisha girl?!”

.

.

--- tbc (hopefully can do more)

(1) More literally, she is saying things about Panda that “doesn’t smell like fairy tale” (2) “His root is bright” is the literal translation (3) 悪ノリ (akunori) is a bit hard to be translated. It’s like, getting carried away in mischievous manner. (4) Overheated Kugisaki lol (5) Sobat : back kick in wrestling (6) literally “To follow the right” (7) A skyscraper in Shibuya (8) A department store in Shibuya (9) Spoken in broken Japanese lol. (10) Shake = salmon. He repeats what Toge said to him. In Inumaki’s language means “yes” (11) Salmon, as in engrish lol (12) Okaka = chopped katsuobushi, in Inumaki’s language means “no” (13) literally, “becomes hot”

[themadlostgirl]

Chaotic Coupling

*FINALLY! This f**king request took so f**king long! It matter not now because I finally finished it. It is also really long so hopefully that helps make up for how long it took. I do not mean it lightly when I say it is long. This took up 14 pages in google drive. You have been warned.*

Prompt: Reader is the goddess of chaos exiled to the Underworld. It is plenty boring but then she meets the recently deceased Peter Pan. He seems like he could be fun!

Requested by: anon

Warnings: language

~~~

What is more sweet than chaos? What is more freeing then giving into desire? What is a life if one does not indulge in their sins?

Boring. Tedious. Peaceful.

Not at all fun.

Y/N was a goddess of chaos. Messing with mortals by causing trouble and anarchy wherever she went. It was chaotic and threw mortals into a hysteria but that was not how Y/N saw it. Oh no. When she looked down and saw what her actions had wrought she only saw beauty. The anger, confusion, sadness, and raw untethered emotion bursting from every lifeform like a volcano. She loved it.

Unfortunately the other gods did not. She was warned hundreds of times to stop causing such blatant and unneeded mess around the globe but she never listened. It was not like the gods ever punished her. The world would always need a little chaos. Trying to contain it would only build it up until it was unleashed like a hellstorm causing much more damage than she ever could by herself. She almost wanted them to detain her just so she could see what her release of chaotic energy would do to the world.

That was not what happened. After centuries of warnings the gods did finally punish her. She was not put in a crate like a pup as she had almost secretly hoped. The gods were smarter than that. Instead she was put on a leash. Banished to the Underworld to help her Uncle Hades. Her presence would still be felt throughout the world but she could not incite anything truly chaotic as long as she was regulated to the Underworld.

At first she tried to keep her head up. Though she had never visited the Underworld she had to believe it would be fun. It was where all dead souls went. Good and bad. They may be dead but that didn’t mean they were free from chaos.

As she soon learned though nothing she did made much of a difference in the Underworld. Her Uncle Hades ran a tight ship so she could never get away with anything too bad. How could this punishment get anymore boring? She was practically debasing herself with these petty squabbles among the dead. It was humiliating and it was boring! What she would give to be able to leave but so long as she was under Hades watchful eye there was no escape.

It was another miserable day in what was essentially hell. Y/N was taking a walk along the street of the town Hades had modeled the Underworld to. All of the sudden a new soul materialized in the center of the square. That was nothing new. New souls appeared all the time. There was something kind of off about this one though. They had an energy about them that practically made her mouth water. Who exactly had died?

She made her way over to them. “Hello there,” She said and the soul turned sharp on his heel. It was a boy. Young. Disheveled brown hair and piercing green eyes blown wide like a cornered lion. “You have some bite don’t you?”

“Who are you?” He snarled.

“I’m Y/N. Goddess of Chaos and unwilling permanent tenant here in the Underworld.” She stalked around him assessing him up and down. “And you are?” She reached a hand out to touch him. He grabbed her by the wrist halting her. He pulled her closer his eyes hard like stones and his words dripping with malice

“Don’t touch me,” He growled.

Y/N chuckled. “You are fun.” She inhaled deeply, “You absolutely reek of it.”

“What?”

“My beautiful chaos. It’s been so long since I’ve caught a whiff of such potent mayhem. Far more intoxicating than any wine.”

“Get away from me,” The boy shoved her off, “Insane woman.”

“You would be insane too if you were stuck here for centuries unable to have any real fun.” She followed after him, unperturbed. “Well I guess you are now.”

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m bored. Duh. Also, I still haven’t learned your name my delicious little anarchist morsel.”

“Stop talking to me like that. My name is Peter Pan.”

“Hm,”

“What now?”

“Such a boring name for someone who absolutely reeks of pandemonium. Care if I call you something more interesting? Like Balthazar or Zebulon.”

“No.”

“No fun.”

That seemed to irk him and he reared on her with a fury. “You do not know who you are talking to. I have fun more than anyone. The world is my board and everyone else in it are pawns.”

“Really? Cause you seem straight boring now. Peter Pan. Blech, and here I had such high hopes for you.”

“Oh woe is you. So sorry to disappoint Your goddess-ness. Unless you can get me out of here then I have no use for you.”

“If I can’t get out of here then there’s no chance you can. If you decide you want to stop being such a stick in the mud come find me. I live in the clocktower.” With that she walked away. Such a shame. She had gotten her hopes up for a minute just for him to let her down. She wondered what he had done in his life that made him smell so delicious though. Oh wait! She could!

She entered the library and went to the secret section in the back. No one could enter here except for gods. Millions of books lined the shelves. The life stories of everyone that had ever lived. “Peter Pan.” She said his name and waited as a book levitated off of one of the many shelves and flew into her hands. “Let’s see what is so interesting about this Peter fellow.”

Lots of reading later and Y/N understood better exactly who she was dealing with. This Peter Pan was a lot like her. Living on his own island doing whatever it was that he wanted. Instigating violence and anarchy in the name of fun. He was also far older than he appeared. Since time stood still on his island, his Neverland, he lived for hundreds of years without growing older. How had she missed such a place? It sounded like somewhere she would have thrived.

It was almost eerie how similar the two were. At least in the context of his book. The real thing seemed a lot more boring. Perhaps that was due to him dying. Death just took the life out of everyone. Metaphorically speaking.

A few days went by of Y/N stalking Peter to see what he would do. After reading through his novel she was sure he’d be one of those that roughed it in the wilderness but to her surprise he took up residence in a secondhand shop. Why there?

Curiosity overtook her and she went inside the shop. Pretty little trinkets long ago lost lined the shelves and glass cases. Something stood out to her amongst all the sparkly treasures. A doll. A simple straw doll with a little blue coat on it. It stood proudly on a pedestal all by itself. What was so precious about this?

She took the doll off the pedestal to inspect it further.

“Drop it.” A cold voice demanded. There was Peter Pan behind one of the cases. His eyes narrowed at her.

“What? This?” She waved the doll, “If you don’t want people touching it you should really put it somewhere more secure than a pedestal in the middle of the room.”

“I said, drop it.” Peter urged again. Y/N didn’t miss the hint of panic in his voice.

“What if I don’t want to?” She produced a flame from her finger, “What if I burnt it to a crisp instead? It’s awfully dry. It’ll be ash in seconds.”

“Put it down!” Peter roared, he had jumped the case and in a split second had a dagger pressed to her throat. “Now!”

“Why is this so special to you?” She asked. He pressed the blade closer to her neck, not saying a word. Something clicked in Y/N’s head right then. A mention of a doll in Peter’s book. A smile creeped back onto her face.

“It’s your doll. The only toy and the only friend you ever had until you came to Neverland.” She extinguished the flame on her finger. “How sentimental.”

“How did--how did you--”

“I know everything now, Peter Pan.” A shadow passed over his face, “And I mean everything. The mother that never wanted you, the orphanage, the fairy that guarded you, your attempts to go back and have a real family failing year after year until you decided you were too old to be anyone’s son again--”

“AGH!” He slashed her throat but not a mark was left on her skin. Not a drop of blood.

“Now that was rude,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “I think I’m owed an apology.”

“But how did…” Peter stared at the dagger.

“Seems you need a reminder.” Y/N took him by the throat. The doll and dagger clattering to the ground as she hoisted him into the air. “I am a goddess. The Goddess of Chaos. Did you really think it would be that easy to kill me?”

He clawed at her hands but they were like stone around his throat. “Remember this Peter Pan, my body takes an insane amount of power to break. Yours, not so much. So remember your place in this world. You are no leader here. You are no threat. You are my toy and I can throw you away whenever I want. So either be a good toy or I will destroy you.” She dropped him. He collapsed to the ground gasping for breath.

“This was fun,” She knelt down next to him and pulled his chin up to look at her, “I’ll be back to play again.” She left a kiss on his forehead. “Farewell.”

Y/N did not go back to see Peter Pan again for several days. For days she watched him stew in his paranoia. Constantly looking over his shoulder like a frightened deer everywhere he went. He liked games. Y/N knew that much. But it looked like he wasn’t having as much as she was with this latest one. Every so often she would walk by him on the street, acting like she hadn’t noticed but all the while watching him from the corner of her eye. He got so tense when he saw her but never withdrew. He would glare at her until she passed.

It was fun having someone to torture like this again. He still had fight in him.

Then came the morning everything changed. Y/N was walking along the street as she usually did this time of day when she noticed Peter exiting the diner. What luck!

“Good morning!” She sidled up next to him, “Got some breakfast did you?”

He didn’t reply. Just shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and kept walking.

“Oh come now, it’s no fun if you don’t reply.” Y/N said, “If you don’t say anything I’ll just take it as a challenge.”

Nothing.

“Fine.” She sighed, “I just thought you’d like someone to talk to. You don’t talk to anyone around here. I think the only person I’ve seen you talk to is my uncle and that was only once. Don’t you find it boring doing this routine everyday? Don’t you want to try something new? We can have a lot of fun if you would just remove that stick up your ass. What happened to the fun boy full of mayhem that I read about? Did he die when you did? I wouldn’t think death would change a person so drastically. People usually retain their personalities from when they were living into their death but not you. You are more boring than watching grass grow and trust me, there is no grass growing here. You are as boring as watching non-growing grass. Isn’t that sad? I think--”

“SHUT UP!” Peter shoved her hard against the wall of a store. His arm was pressed against her neck pinning her in place. “Leave me alone!”

“Ha!” She laughed, “I told you I could get you to talk.”

“There has got to be a way to kill you.” He muttered.

Y/N smiled. Peter’s arm dug into her neck harder. “Stop smiling.”

“You have fire,” She grinned wider, “I like fire.”

Something clicked in his head. His grip on her easing. She figured that would get his attention. He backed away from her slowly. Y/N turned to a potted bush next to the store window. Peter watched her with a growing sense of interest.

“Don’t you like fire too?” She produced a spark in her hand and flicked it at the flower bush. “One little spark of fire and from that spark it grows. It grows, it spreads, it devours everything in its path leaving behind nothing but torment in its beautiful inferno. It’s the most breathtaking form of destruction I’ve ever come across.”

“You’re kinda crazy aren’t you?” Peter asked, watching as the flower bush was consumed by the flames.

“Perhaps.” she fluttered a hand over the fire making it grow faster. “Being the goddess of chaos kinda does that. I thrive off of disorganization and pandemonium. It would only make too much sense that’s what my mind is like as well. I may be impulsive but that doesn’t make me dumb. You have to find the right nerve to hit to maximize your effect. Groom them with little incidents of mayhem here and there. Then, when the timing is right you hit them where it’ll hurt most and watch the beauty unfold before you. Just like a flame can engulf an entire forest, one perfectly hit nerve can destroy an empire.”

“What do you do when it’s all in ashes then?” Peter asked.

“Not my area. I can bring civilizations down but I’ve never really put much thought into raising new ones up. That’s what the rest of my family is for. They take the ashes of what I have done and create new life. It’s an endless circle of life and death. Gods, I miss it.”

She stared deep into the fire.

“Is that what you’ve been doing with me? Bothering me with little annoyances for days on end before trying to strike that nerve that would drive me insane?”

“A bit.” She shrugged, “Not a fan?”

“Not really, but I guess that’s the point.” He sighed, “I think we’re a lot alike actually.”

“I thought the same thing while I was reading through your book. Did death really suck all the fun out of you?”

“Not much fun to be had here. None of my boys are here, I have magic but there’s nothing for me to control outside of a stupid little shop, and the residents are insanely dull and sad. I fear that you have been my only form of entertainment since I got down here.” Peter waved his hand and the flame from the one flower pot jumped into the next catching that one on fire as well. “What did you mean when you were talking about my book?”

“Oh, there is a portion of the library only accessible to gods. It holds books that contain the entire lives of everyone who has ever lived. I read through yours. That’s how I know everything about you.”

“I see…”

“Would you like to see it?”

“Sure,” He nodded. “Don’t think this means that I like you now or anything. You’re merely the most interesting thing here at the moment.”

“Which is precisely why you do like me.” She elbowed him, “Come, I think you’ll like this place.”

They went to the library and Y/N entered into the area reserved to gods. Peter pouted outside since he couldn’t get past the invisible barrier that shielded him from entering. Y/N grabbed his book and returned with it. “See?”

“Do the gods have these as well?”

“Yes, but they are kept on Olympus. Did you want to read mine?”

“I thought it only fair seeing as how you read my entire life story.”

“Well you would be reading mine for a long time. I do a great many things and I have lived far longer than you have. There’s no need for you to read my book though. Whatever you would like to know you simply have to ask. I have no secrets.”

“Forgive me if I don’t trust anyone who is that open about their past. No secrets? At all?”

“There is nothing I have done in my life that I feel ashamed or embarrassed about.”

“I believe that.” A grin started to spread on his face, an idea latching in his mind, “But that doesn’t mean you don’t have anything personal that you’d rather not share. Acts of wrath and embarrassing moments aren’t something you would feel bad about sharing. Intimate moments though, personal moments, that’s where you clam up.”

“Is this your clever way of trying to dig into my exciting love life?” She smirked. “Afraid I don’t have any secrets there either.”

“Oh no, you misunderstand. I don’t care about any past lovers. I can tell what really gets to you.” Peter stepped closer, “Your family.”

“I don’t care about my family.” Y/N said, she tried to sound casual but his tone gave her pause.

“Yes. You’ve said so. They kicked you out and it is dreadfully boring down in the underworld. But beyond that, you miss them. The only one down here is Hades and I doubt he’s great company. But the other gods and goddess, your other family, even though they banished you here you still yearn to be a part of their world.”

“You don’t know anything.” Y/N’s voice was quiet. She hadn’t expected him to turn the conversation around on her like this.

“I know a lot actually.” Peter continued, “And what I know best is when someone is lost. You may be the Goddess of Chaos but you know what I see? I see the same sadness and desperation that many of my boys wore on my island. You are just a lost little girl crying for your family.”

She hadn’t realized she threw the punch until she saw Peter collapse on the floor. Her breathing was heavy and her hands were shaking. This boy had drilled down into the very core of her being with no effort. He had seen through her as plainly as glass. It was unnerving and she may have reacted a tad harshly to his assessment.

“Punched by a goddess,” Peter stood up again, rubbing at his jaw, “Can honestly say that’s something I hadn’t expected to happen in my life, er, death I guess.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Hardly. Figured you were gonna react like that.” He sighed, “Still not the worst hit I’ve ever taken.”

“You are a strange boy.”

“It’s what keeps me interesting.” He collected the book that had fallen from his hands off the floor.

“Does this mean you still want to kill me?”

“I’m debating it.” He said. “This interaction doesn’t change the fact that you are incredibly annoying.”

“Hurtful but accurate.” Y/N shrugged as she made her way to the stairs that led up to the clocktower. “In another life I think we could have been a very good team.”

She paused. She turned around and saw that Peter had the same look of contemplation. Their eyes met and twin smiles sprouted on their faces. “Is this my magic at work or are we on the same page?” Y/N asked.

“I believe we are.” Peter approached her, “Neither of us wants to be trapped in the Underworld and neither of us individually has the power to escape. But if we work together…”

“We can escape this hellhole.” Y/N finished. “Think you can survive teaming up with me long enough to get out of here?”

“If it means freedom then I will be at your side until we both see the blue sky once again.” He held out a hand, “Partners?”

“Partners.” She shook his hand, “This is going to be so much fun!”

Time passed quickly after Peter and Y/N teamed up to find a way to escape the Underworld. Y/N already had a headstart on research since she spent so much time when she was first banished here finding a way out. She shared her findings with Peter and the two spent days pouring over every detail that looked like it could be useful.

With no need to sleep or eat in the Underworld they would spend several days straight huddled in the library plotting their escape. In between all their research and brainstorming sessions Y/N got to know Peter Pan beyond what she had read in his book and in return he got to know her. They were closer. He still said she was the most annoying thing in all the realms and she teased him often when he got too serious.

When things got especially tense and they needed to blow off steam they would go out together and cause mischief in town. They even snuck into Hades’ office once and stole some of his decanters of fancy liquor. For the first time in a very long time Y/N was truly having fun. Torturing and messing with souls was all well and good but she found she was actually enjoying her time with Peter. She was laughing a lot more with him. Peter himself seemed to grow more at ease with her with every passing day.

Before she had even realized it their begrudging partnership to find a way out of the Underworld had blossomed into friendship. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she had a friend. She couldn’t remember if she ever did. No one had ever wanted to be very close to her. Causing chaos wherever you go, even unintentionally, threw people off. It never bothered Peter though. He called her annoying but he smiled and laughed at the havoc that naturally happened around her. He played along with it.

“Good morning, Chaos,” Peter let himself into her clocktower bedroom. “Got you a muffin from the diner.” He tossed her a paper bag.

“Thanks.” She caught it. “So, look at this thing I found. So we know that the only way anyone can get out of here is if Hades opens a portal, right? Well, apparently it isn’t solely Hades that can open portals out of the Underworld. Any god can by either being more powerful than Hades like Zeus or by usurping him as the ruler of the Underworld.”

“So you could open a portal out of here?”

“Theoretically yes. But we would have to usurp my uncle.”

“I think we can take him together.”

“No. Here’s the problem. The only way for us to usurp him is to kill him and it is hilariously, nearly impossible, to kill a god.”

“But there is a possibility?”

“I mean I guess but it is hardly a viable option. The only way I know how to kill a god is with the Olympian Crystal which Uncle Hades keeps heavily protected. It is also broken with no way to fix it. Trust me, he brought it out once for me to try and fix but I couldn’t do anything.”

Peter pondered it for a minute. “Okay, you couldn’t fix it all by yourself but what if we tried combining our powers? Do you think that could do it?”

“Maybe. Hades and I tried together once but he said it wouldn’t work since his heart isn’t beating.”

“What does that have to do with--”

“It was part of his own banishment. He can’t leave the Underworld unless his heart starts beating again or something like that. So even though he has the means his dead heart keeps him trapped like us.”

“Alright, is he tied to the crystal in any way? Is there any way he could track it if it went missing?”

“No. So long as it is broken he shouldn’t be able to find it. Why? Plan on stealing it?”

“Yes.”

“Stealing my uncle’s most prized possession from right under his nose, sounds risky...I love it!”

“I thought you would.” Peter grinned, “Seems that for the first time we have a real plan. I say this calls for a celebration.”

“Not too premature?” She asked.

“Well, if we fuck it up then we are both doomed so we might as well celebrate now before anything potentially goes wrong.” He pulled what was left of the liquor they stole from Hades out.

“I won’t object to that.” She took a sip before passing the decanter back to Peter. She stared wistfully out of the clocktower window and sighed. “It’s so strange,” Y/N said, “To be this close to freedom. I have so many memories of the world above but they feel more and more like fantasies I’ve created than something I was ever a part of. I don’t even know what I would do when I get up there. Where would I go?”

“You’re more than welcome to come cause havoc on Neverland if you’d like.” Peter said. “Give my boys a challenge.”

“You really want me on your island? The most annoying being in all the realms?” She teased.

“If you happen to be near at least.” He smiled, softer. “I’d blame it on the liquor but it doesn’t affect us so I guess I’m just gonna have to say this.”

“Say what?”

“I think I am actually gonna miss you when we get out of here.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Chaos.”

“I suppose I’d miss you too.” Y/N shook her head, “I take that back, I know that I’ll miss you.”

“Well that’s enough mushy stuff,” Peter said quickly, dropping his gaze, “We have a crystal to steal after all.”

“Right, of course,” Y/N nodded.

More time passed and Y/N found herself in a new and frightening headspace. She was confused. All her life she had lived through chaos, so much so that it was what she was named the goddess of. Anarchy was where she was most comfortable but yet, when that same pandemonium she thrived in was pushed inward she didn’t know what to do. She could do well in chaos because she always had a focus point. Herself. She was the eye of the storm. She was safe while everything happened around her.

So why did it feel like she was caught in the hurricane?

It had all started that day she and Peter had decided to steal the crystal and usurp Hades. Something about that day disturbed her. When she looked at Peter now her mind wandered. When he sat close enough to touch, her brain burnt out. Yet nothing had changed.

No. That wasn’t entirely true. At some point during all their scheming Y/N had grown to really care about Peter. She’d even call him a friend. When she thought of her life outside of the Underworld she couldn’t think of one where she wasn’t hanging out with him. She already missed him and he wasn’t even gone yet.

What was wrong with her?

Whatever it was it would have to wait. She had a mission now. It was finally the day. After tons of careful and meticulous planning they were going to steal the crystal. Peter was serving as a distraction for Hades while Y/N snuck in and bypassed the traps and wards Hades had around the crystal. She figured she’d have five maybe ten minutes max to get in and get out before Hades got bored of Peter and came back. That’s if she didn’t trip one of his traps first.

By the time she finally got the safe unlocked her whole body was sweating and shaking from nerves. She had come so close and now all she had to do was grab it and get out. She took down the last ward and grabbed the pieces of the crystal and shoved them into her bag before slamming the safe closed and putting the wards back up as quickly as she could.

And done. Phew. Now all she had to do was get out.

“Now this is a surprise.” Y/N froze. Damn. She had taken too long. She poofed the bag away to her room in the clocktower before turning to meet her uncle.

“Hello, hope you don’t mind that I popped in.” She said as casually as she could. “Life up top was getting dreadfully boring.”

“I would say so, it is a rare thing for you to come visit me.” He scanned her up and down, “What entertainment do you think I can provide?”

“I don’t know. You have the billiard table. Care to play?”

“Not now.” He shooed her, “I have work to do so you can scamper along and torment some other poor soul.”

“Boo! You really are the god of the dead.” She stuck her tongue out at him. In the next instant she reappeared in her room. She collapsed back on the bed in relief. Hades didn’t suspect anything.

She heard the sound of pounding footsteps and Peter barged in. “Did you get it?”

Y/N held up the bad with pieces inside. “Who do you take me for?”

“Yes!” Peter was so happy he lifted her off the bed and into the air in a tight hug, “We’re gonna get out of here!”

And the inner turmoil was back. Heat crawled up her neck and burned her face. Had Peter ever held her like this before? Why did it feel so nice to be in his arms?

Just as quick as it started Peter dropped her back to her feet and reached around her for the bag. He pulled out the pieces and set them on the bed, looking over them carefully. He was talking about how it looked like it should be an easy fix but there were other logistics to take into account and whole lot of other technical mumbo jumbo that she really didn’t care about. Well, not so much cared about but couldn’t bring herself to comprehend since her mind was still being tossed around in a tornado of unfamiliar feelings.

“Hey” Peter shook her shoulder, “Were you listening?”

“Spaced out. What were you saying?” She asked.

“I tried a spell on my own but it did nothing. Care to try with me this time like we planned?”

“Got it.” Y/N took her spot next to him and stared down at the broken pieces of crystal. She picked up one and Peter picked up the other. “Here goes nothing.”

They faced each other and started the spell. She was channeling all of her power into it, willing the crystal to come together. This had to work. It just had to. The spell died and when she looked down she frowned at the still broken crystal in her hands.

No. No! It was supposed to work! This was supposed to work! She slid down to the ground, her half of the crystal laying limply in her hands. Peter knelt down with her.

“It didn’t work.” She muttered, “It didn’t work, Peter. We went through all of this and our one way out of here is still just a hunk of junk!”

“We’re never going to see the world above again.” Tears started to slip from her eyes and down her cheeks.

“Don’t say that,” Peter tilted her chin up. His large green eyes bore into her. “We are not giving up now. Not after we have come this far. We are going to see that big blue sky again, Y/N. I swear it.”

“How? We have no other way to get out of here unless we kill Hades and we can’t kill him without this crystal.”

“We’ll find a way. We will not rest until we get out of here. I don’t care how long it takes. Do you wanna know why?” He brushed the tears from her eyes, “Because I want us to go on adventures together. I want to see what you can really do when you can let chaos run free. I want to show you my home. I want you to see Neverland. I want us to have fun together outside of here.”

“Peter…” The whirlwind within me started to ebb, “I want that too.”

“And hey, in the meantime, we can still have fun together right here.” He smiled.

That’s when it hit her. What that chaos reigning inside her really was. Why it felt so strange yet so pleasant at the same time.

“I love you.” She said.

Peter blinked at her. “Huh?”

She grabbed his face and brought him closer so her nose touched his, “I love you, Peter Pan.”

He didn’t respond. Not with words at least. The distance between them, as small as it was, closed and she felt his lips brush against hers in hesitant kiss. She pulled him closer again and the kiss deepened. The spark that ran through her felt like a bolt of lightning and she should know since she had been struck by one of Zeus’ blasts before. This was a lot better though and it certainly didn’t leave a coppery feeling in her mouth.

A flash of light made them break apart. Down at their knees was the Olympian Crystal in one piece. Y/N picked it up. She could feel the power running through it. “But how did…?”

“Through the most powerful magic of all. Something that not even a god could compare to.” Peter grinned, “True love.”

“Are you saying that we have true love?” Y/N teased. Truthfully the thought made her want to jump up and down but she would never admit it.

“Seems so. Only makes sense that I would fall in love with the goddess of chaos.” Peter ruffled her hair. “And she made the unfortunate decision to love me back.”

“Why’s that unfortunate?” Y/N asked.

“Cause now you’re stuck with me forever, Chaos.” He pulled her into his arms.

“I think I can live with that.” She kissed him again. She held up the crystal with a wicked smile. “Now, my love, how do you feel about killing a god for our first date?”

“Sounds perfect to me.” He matched her insane smile. They were going to have so much fun!

[j-amespotter]

★ the last great american dynasty - s. b.

“i had a marvelous time ruining everything.” 

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle-born!Reader 

x. x. x.

Summary: A one-shot diving into Sirius’s complicated relationship with Grimmauld Place and where the Muggle-born he falls for fits in.

Genre/Warnings: angst, emotional abuse, alcohol, language, mentions of death & war 

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: so.. this is more of a character study on sirius & his dynamic with his family – i know this song is meant to be about a woman but it also screams sirius to me. i’m a sucker for romance so it’s a reader-insert. fun fact, i was almost done writing this when i realized i wanted it to be a wolfstar fic, but i was too lazy to change it, so just putting that out as a concept lol. let me know what you think & if you’d like me to tag you in future works!! 

masterlist

When Sirius first showed signs of his rebellious nature, Walburga wasn’t worried. After all, many children were incapable of sitting still in large gatherings, mouthing off to their parents, or incessantly teasing their younger siblings. “He will be kept in good company. He will learn,” Walburga would say to her husband. He often exasperated her, but there was no denying her immense pride. Despite his antics, even at a young age, Sirius displayed impressive magical ability and had a commanding presence – excellent qualities for the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. 

She worried only a little when he preferred to spend time with Andromeda, who was clearly becoming disillusioned with their family values, and Alphard, who Walburga believed was beginning to get a little too soft. Still, the Blacks were not raving lunatics. They were traditionalists, committed to upholding the high standards of Wizarding society. Sirius would not defy them, not when the weight of their bloodline rested on his shoulders, not when Regulus would never be able to stomach such responsibility.

On his first night at Hogwarts, Sirius didn't write home. It wasn’t until the morning after that Narcissa delivered the dreadful news to her mother. Walburga’s sister-in-law relished discussing this most recent embarrassment, as the family’s attention was now off her daughter’s courtship of a mudblood. Young Sirius, their direct heir, was sorted into the House of Muggle-lovers and blood traitors, into the House of Godric Gryffindor.

Blown apart by this development, Walburga turned to her younger son. She had no intention of repeating her mistakes and resolved to train him for the responsibility that should have belonged to her eldest. That way, if she was unable to correct Sirius’s behavior, she had back-up. Her legacy was secure. 

During every subsequent holiday, she noticed that the damage was getting more-and-more irreversible. Sirius unabashedly consorted with infamous blood traitors and pathetic half-bloods. He seemed to dread seeing his family as much as she dreaded seeing how much of him she had lost. She tried; no one could say she didn’t. But she was too stern with him. He had inherited his flexibility, or lack thereof, from her. She pushed him too far away. Soon, he stopped returning home for Christmas. When he was sixteen, she spat at him as he closed the door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place one last time, without sparing her a final glance. 

He never expected he would have to return. Offering up the property to the Order seemed like a good idea at the time – he hardly put any thought into it. That was how he made most of his decisions. His track record certainly proved so. When Remus didn’t have anywhere to stay, and neither did the newly-reformed Order of the Phoenix, Sirius knew that his family estate in London was not just their most ideal option, but also the only one they had. 

He managed to enter undetected in his Animagus form with Remus. He had to hand it to fate – there were no extra security measures to keep him out. It was as if she anticipated his arrival. Swallowing, he absorbed his surroundings. Despite the eerie silence and decomposing furniture, it looked like an image straight from his memory. Sirius suddenly felt sixteen again. 

What he did not expect to see, however, was a currently-sleeping life-sized portrait of Walburga Black in the hallway. Though now in his human form, Sirius growled inadvertently. She knew. She always knew that he would come back. She wanted to be there when he did. Unbelievable, he thought to himself. 

Aware of Remus’s wary gaze on him, Sirius walked forward and began pulling on the frame. “Get off, you hag! Remus, help me get this off!” 

Remus went to join his old friend in what seemed like a fruitless mission in his mind but came to an abrupt halt when the portrait, disturbed by her son’s grunts, awoke in a flash of fury. “Filth! Scum! Abomination of my flesh! You are no son of mine,” portrait-Walburga hissed. 

“Shut up, just shut up!” He had not heard her voice since he was near a Dementor, reliving the worst of his teenage years. The visual made it much, much worse. 

“Permanent Sticking Charm, it seems…” Remus said to appease his friend, pulling the withering velvet curtains over its towering frame with all his strength.

“This is torture,” sighed Sirius. “Maybe we can find another place.” 

Remus refused to meet his eye. “For now, it is all we have, Sirius. If it was going to be a problem, you should not have offered it to Professor Dumbledore.” 

Sirius frowned. “It’s all I’m able to do this time around. It’s not like I can go around trailing Death Eaters and infiltrating the Ministry with everyone else.”

“Hopefully, it’s only temporary,” assured Remus, though he was equally as uncertain about Sirius’s fate as a fugitive. “Try not to let this place get into your head, okay?” 

Sirius Black was never good at keeping promises. He had three-and-a-half decades of evidence to back that up. In the weeks following, the Order settled in, consisting of many highly competent Aurors, half-a-dozen Weasleys, and an ex-Death Eater he could do without seeing. Sirius found himself never too far from alcohol, itching for more access. He longed to see Harry and to get away from his wretched house-elf, along with the constant, stinging reminder of his mother's existence. 

But there was something else inside of him, something he couldn’t describe. It was an emotion that was egging him on. He felt it inside of him every time Kreacher muttered complaints about wandering red-headed blood traitor brats. It swirled in his stomach when his mother shouted scathing insults at the clumsy half-blood and filthy half-breed that took temporary refuge in the former pure-blood paradise. 

Then she came. 

She was new. She worked at the Ministry; many of his houseguests were incredibly fond of her. He recognized the innocence in her eyes. It was the same innocence that he had when he first joined the Order seventeen years earlier. It was the same innocence that differentiated every new member from every returning one – they had yet to see tragedy in its fullest form. 

“Hello,” she greeted. She seemed strangely unperturbed by the fact that she was in the presence of an alleged mass murderer. “I’m (Y/N). I’ve been told this is your house. Thank you for playing host.”

“My pleasure,” responded Sirius. Involuntarily, he reached for her hand and kissed it. Suddenly, he became painfully aware of his hollowing cheeks, untamed hair, and liquor-infused breath.

She flushed slightly at the gesture. Black family habits die hard. Just because he chose to refrain from practicing them did not mean he had forgotten, nor did it mean that he wasn’t any good at them. 

Walburga Black’s portrait watched her son fall in love with her. Sirius watched her watch him. There was no telling how she would react. Regulus was dead – it was up to him to preserve their family’s name and purity.

(Y/N) was witty and flirty and incredibly intelligent. He found himself feeling a decade younger as he enjoyed their banter and her overall easiness. Before long, she kissed him in his dimly-lit pantry, and he was too selfish to stop her. They would kiss in every corner of the house, hardly caring that anyone was watching, ignoring the ghosts living within the walls. For Sirius, (Y/N) was his greatest act of defiance. She was born to non-magic parents. As narrated by a disgruntled Kreacher to his now-helpless mistress, she was nothing but a “filthy mudblood.” 

One night, weeks after the children departed for Hogwarts and the house was, as on most days, empty, he caught her staring at the Black family tapestry. Without making a sound, he inched behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Hello, beautiful,” he whispered, pressing a kiss on her shoulder. “Sickle for your thoughts?” 

She leaned into him. As the days went on, she would tire easily. Still, she found happiness in Sirius as he did with her, and they both were old enough to know to reach for it in any capacity they got. “It’s nothing. It’s stupid. Let’s get to bed.” 

“As much as I’m a fan of that idea,” he started with a smirk, “you look upset. Is it work? Fudge?” 

“No, nothing like that.” Her fingers traced his blasted name on the wall. She looked thoughtful. “I’ve just… noticed something about you.” 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” 

“The way you look at your mother.” 

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s no secret that I hate her. I hope that’s not off-putting. You’ve seen what she’s like – it was worse when she was alive. I promise I’m a gentleman in general circumstances… for the most part,” he added cheekily. 

She smiled tightly. “No, I get it. It must be terrible for you, being back here.” 

“It is,” he affirmed. “I’ve got you, though. You make me happier than anything, love.” 

“That’s the thing,” she uttered as if it pained her. Sirius could stare at her fiery expression for days on end. To be on the receiving end was strange. “I can’t help but think that you’re only in love with me to spite her. Like your feelings aren’t love, they’re just a culmination of your hatred for her.” 

It took Sirius an eternity to process what she just said. Realizing that he was not going to say anything, she continued. “Believe me, I know you hate it here. But at the same time, you look so… satisfied. You’re hosting a bunch of blood traitors, half-bloods, and a werewolf in this place that was once the pinnacle of blood purity. You’re providing a haven against the bloody Dark Lord. And worst of all, you’re with a mudblood.” 

“Don’t call yourself that,” interrupted Sirius harshly. 

“It’s the truth. If you weren’t in this position, would we even be together?” 

“Of course,” said Sirius. To answer this question, he didn’t even have to think. “I love you because you’re you. You’re beautiful and smart and make me laugh until my stomach hurts. You’re so good with Harry and you can put anyone in their place. You make me feel new again… God, that’s fucking sappy, but it’s true. I indeed hate this place and I hate her but… but if I let her dictate my choices, even when she’s bloody dead, then she’s won. I don’t want her to win. If I was only with you for your blood status, then I would be no different from my mother.” 

She stared up at him, her eyes betraying a wave of emotions. She reached up to kiss him, tangling her fingers in his hair. “Thank you for saying all of that. Just hold on for a little while, alright? Soon, we’ll be out of here. We can have our own house – you, me, and Harry.” 

He smiled at her sadly. It seemed too unreachable of a goal to him at the moment. “By the beach?” “Wherever you’d like,” she answered, leading him to his bedroom, his only sanctuary in the horrible house. 

As they made their way towards the stairs, Sirius glanced at the tapestry over his shoulder, at the seven generations of Blacks behind him. He gently squeezed (Y/N)’s hand. For the first time in his entire life, he felt the weight of carrying his name lift off him. He’d done his part to corrupt his bloodline. It was time for Sirius to focus on himself in a way that the shadows of his past never allowed him to, even in his schoolboy days with James. Being a Black was a part of who he was, and even a disowned Black deserved his long-overdue happiness.

Tagging: @strawberriesonsummer​

[sokodraws]

Crying. Why was he crying?

ye, infelix doesn’t cope well with his past, it haunts him so to say

he’s one of my more broken characters

full story under ‘read more’

PAST LIFE

(witten as a comission by the amazing @/tomokoseph on twitter)

          Infelix had the flat all to himself. It wasn’t a first for him—far from it, he’d say—but it was still a rarity. Not only that, but he had a week without any of the others running about; it was a far cry from the two days at most he’d spent alone. And how did this begin? A modeling gig? It was only the third day of his isolation, and he already wasn’t sure. Though even if the memory had become a haze, he could still find necessary details.

           It all began as a long conversation on a rainy afternoon. With a sudden text letting Dorcha and Flora know they’d been selected for a bigger modeling job, they gained congratulations, only to surprise the rest with how long they would be gone. Misha would join the pair—it seemed everyone expected that—and after that, it felt like everyone wanted to join along. Diopetes seemed more than eager to join the newly created trio. After contemplation, Mire decided he didn’t want to be left out of this team of sorts and tagged along even if the whole thing was of no interest to him.

           And then there was one. But even with all of the others’ pestering, metaphorically and literally tugging on Infelix’s arm so he could go out farther than the city for once, he wouldn’t budge. As far as he was concerned, someone had to look after the apartment (a lame excuse). Admittedly, he was surprised that everyone let him get left behind, but he wasn’t complaining.

           Infelix didn’t do much throughout the days, savoring the time to himself that slowly counted down to the group’s return. It’s not that he hated their presence, but sometimes the constant conversations became overbearing, and silence only came about in the dead of night. Hell, the more he thought about it, he should have gone along to make sure no one got in trouble. And yet, out of his volition, he let them go without a peep. Considering they were all used to their human vessels, nothing too wild could stem from one week unsupervised. Hopefully.

           Now, on the third day, he could admit he was getting used to this mundane routine of his. It began to grow on him, even turning into a comfort he never thought he’d ever experience. To know it would disappear within a few days didn’t click yet, so it felt like paradise being able to stay anywhere he wanted without anything to interrupt his train of thought. With that, he decided to do something he hadn’t in a while: listen to music.

           After laying on the couch for what felt like hours, he stood up and walked towards their old, small shelf. While it remained empty for a while, Flora insisted they decorate at least a little. That’s what ended up with them owning a few potted plants, books they’ve never read, and a used record player that came with a collection of vinyl records. Pulling the record player out of the top shelf along with a random record, he walked towards the couch, having to place it on the ground to plug it in. After a bit of fumbling around, the record was in its place, and the needle set down and slowly bringing it to life. He then stared down at the album he had picked out. Brahms? Not a bad choice. As the sounds of Piano Concerto No. 1 filled the room, a thought came to Infelix’s mind: I need a drink.

           After a quick jog to the kitchen and rummaging through the shelves, he pulled out an ornate bottle of whiskey that he didn’t touch too often. It was on the more expensive side—one he doubted anyone could drink regularly with its price—so he saved it for special occasions. Well, special wasn’t exactly the right term, but it felt most appropriate to how he felt then. Taking a glass one shelf down from the alcohol, he walked back to the living room, falling back onto the couch as he poured himself some whiskey.

           Taking a sip as he placed the bottle onto the coffee table before him, Infelix let out a sigh as the strong drink slid down his throat. As the intense playings of a piano that graced his ears died down, transforming into soft strings, he stared at the wall, his previous thoughts washing out of his mind into nothingness. As he relaxed further into the couch, taking a bigger swig of his drink, he wondered what would have happened if he had Dorcha and Flora’s lives. What was it like running about in pretty clothes, getting pictures taken and blown up for others to see, feeling somewhat significant in this anomaly of a universe?

           Then, he paused. Once, he felt like someone of significance, somewhere in a land from long ago.

           Deadramel.

           No, he hadn’t forgotten about the realm. It would always be lingering in the back of his mind, still waiting to come to the forefront. After getting used to human years, that moment in time felt like an old memory, though it had only been a little over a decade since then. As he took another sip of his drink, he realized he was running dry, leaning forward to pour himself a little more.

           Infelix remembered how everyone treated him before, becoming an important demon to all who knew him. But he just had to ruin it all, following along with Mire and Dorcha’s plans of killing the King, turning into a traitor to all in a single day despite centuries of trust. Even then, he didn’t blame the pair more than himself; why did he let such a plan go through? Grimacing, he drank down more whiskey, finding that it went down smoother the more his thoughts ran.

           Before this, Infelix lived a far better life. He lived with prestige, was respected by all, second only to the King. All that he needed was at his disposal, and any commands met in moments. And even before his lavish life within castle grounds, merely roaming the wasteland Deadramel used to be, there was still one thing he had that couldn’t compare to anything else in the world: the King’s love.

           But that was long ago. Now all Infelix had was this lackluster flat, surrounded by the ones he could have stopped, living a life where he felt he was rotting away. He felt like a hollow shell of the demon he once was, and the thought made his head throb in a way he rarely felt. By then, the music had disappeared into the background, barely heard by the never-ending words that rushed through his mind. They mocked what he had turned into, about how he’d never get back his past life no matter how he tried. No more Deadramel, no more of the other demons he cared for, no more of the King; all of these were memories he could visit, but all they’d do was bring him pain and suffering.

           Staring down at his glass, at the drops of golden alcohol that sat at the bottom, it didn’t seem like enough. Placing the glass down, ignoring how it hit the table with a thud hard enough to break it, his eyes met with the whiskey bottle. It was still three-fourths full and, while he was unsure if it was even a right decision, all semblance of rationality had disappeared from him. In one quick movement, the bottle was in his hands, and he drank as much as his body would let him.

          By the time he’d taken more than he could, pulling the bottle away with force, his vision had gone so hazy that he swore he wouldn’t move from the couch. But his instincts had other plans, forcing him out of his seat and roaming the room, pacing around with desperation. Despite the dull thud that made his head ache, he still needed more, craved more to muddle the thoughts that overcame him. Rushing about the room with the whiskey still in hand, he’d soon find his answer hidden deep within one of almost untouched drawers they had full of medicine, just by the bedroom door on the lowest row. Dropping onto his knees, he felt his headache only grow worse, but he merely shook it off as memories of the past jumbled together with the pain.

          Infelix put his bottle down onto the ground before pulling the drawer open. He pushed aside any medicine he knew wouldn’t help, instead reaching for the small, bright yellow bottles near the back. All were still full to the brim, but with labels that had faded enough to be left unread. He didn’t remember what any of them did or even who they belonged to, but he didn’t care.

          With hurried hands, he screwed the lid off of one, gulping at the sight of pills right in front of him. As far as he was concerned, this was what could help him forget, maybe take him out if luck was on his side, and he tilted his head back as he dropped them all into his mouth.

           Some fell onto the floor, but that was the least of his concerns. With a mouthful of pills, he forced them down with whiskey that he drank down with desperation. After placing the bottle down, eyes staring at the other medicine that sat before him, he reached for another. He repeated what he’d done, over and over, too many times to count, but soon found out he was out of alcohol. Clambering up to get more, he stopped himself dead in his tracks, a memory slipping through the cracks.

           Deadramel, still a wasteland, no one else but one in sight.

          The King’s voice.

           “No, no, that’s not right.”

           Infelix nodded slowly, though still seemed confused by the magic he was supposed to mimic. When they found themselves in areas too dark to see, he would always rely on the King to lead the way, bringing about light as bright as stars that peeked through the night. But the King told him that it couldn’t continue this way forever, and Infelix would have to learn the skills that he had honed. Although surprised at first, Infelix accepted but wasn’t too sure how well this ordeal would pan out.

           “Is it not?” Infelix asked, a limb extended from his shapeless form.

           “No. Why don’t you follow after me, hm?” The King outstretched a limb as well. For a moment, there seemed to be no sign of struggle at all, the faint aura of magic swirling around him, soon manifesting as a ball that glowed in his palm. “Don’t push yourself too hard, and it will come, I promise you.”

           Infelix, still in shock at how effortlessly the King created light, wondered if he could ever reach such a sheer amount of skill. Now flustered as he felt the need to push himself, he strained his mind to create something in his hands, feeling the King’s gaze on him for every second that passed. With a mixture of motivation to do as the King pleased and shame at the lack of prowess he had at magic, a semblance of results would soon yield.

           At first, what had appeared were simple sparks, though even the small display had the King let out a gasp. The reaction had Infelix wanting to push for more, but his next few attempts only gave the same results each time. Though Infelix was on the verge of giving up, the King stood beside him, seeming unbothered by the failed attempts. Instead, the King repeated as he had done before, and all Infelix could do was watch in awe, then caught off guard as he felt a sensation tingling in his palm. Looking ahead towards his palm, his concentration suddenly increased tenfold, and it seemed all magic he had transferred right into his hand. Before his mind could even process what was happening, the same ball of light the King had suddenly manifested before him.

           To say shock and awe ran through Infelix’s body was an understatement. He brought the orb closer towards his face, squinting down at its brightness, in disbelief that he could create such a thing. Yet any confusion would cease as the King suddenly drew near, beaming at Infelix, seeming prouder than ever. The sight of this had Infelix feeling lighter than air, much more pleased by his abilities in a matter of moments.

           “It’s not that hard, is it?” the King asked, tone joking. “I’m proud of you, Infelix. You truly do have the potential to harness great magic.”

           The statement had the already elated Infelix feel joy that overtook his whole thoughts, his entire body. To be praised by the man that cared for him was divine, an experience incomparable, and he doubted even the grandest occurrences that could happen in his life would compare to this small moment he shared with the King.

           And nothing ever did.

           Despite all the alcohol that filled his stomach, pills floating amongst the liquid within, the memory was as clear as day. It was as if it had occurred all over again, and the thought made Infelix pause, staring down at the ground as he couldn’t quite process it no matter how he tried. Why then? Why now? For him, it all didn’t make sense, and the dull throb in his head only grew worse.

           Subsequently, tears dripped onto the ground, and it took a moment before Infelix could realize what was happening. A heaviness settled itself into his chest without warning, a light tremble over his body following, and tears continued to slip past him even if he wanted to stop them. Crying. Why was he crying? In all that had occurred in his life, tears never fell, only dread filling him in the worst of times. Perhaps his humanness was catching up with him, and he couldn’t help but groan in frustration as he let emotion overwhelm him.

           The past would never return, his greatness only existing as fragments in his mind. No, all he had now were Dorcha and Mire, the pair only serving as a reminder of the mistakes he made in the past, a pair he had to take care of no matter what. But by then, Infelix didn’t even know if he could continue being the pair's carer. In a sense, he wanted to do all he could for them, but it was as if his body had given up.

          Infelix was at a loss for what to do, all he had consumed unable to hinder such extreme emotion. It was as if hundreds of years of exhaustion finally manifested into his human vessel, and he felt utterly useless. Unlike before, the conditions of his life were against him. By then, he couldn’t name a single good thing that had happened in years. He was nothing. A failure—

          He needed another drink.

          And another.

          More pills.

          Before he knew it, Infelix passed out, slumped against the wall as he dropped a bottle of whiskey in his hands, knocking over other bottles he’d had strewn across the floor.

[ticklystuff]

Kuya and Bunso

summary: modern au where thoma is fluent in tagalog and aether is interested in learning

warnings: this is a tickle fic

word count: ~1.8k

a/n: ok so i found out recently that thoma’s english va is filipino and @danibby and i are both filipino too so we started talking about how thoma would be fluent in tagalog and he’d know a lot about filipino culture and he’d share his knowledge and experience with aether and that’s how the idea for this fic came about. i’m not fluent in tagalog but i can understand it perfectly fine and know a decent amount of words off the top of my head so hopefully this didn’t come out too bad but ya if you’re fluent in tagalog pls feel free to scalp me

“Paa.”

“Paa? Uhhh, paa,” Aether mumbled to himself as he scanned Thoma’s body, looking for the body part that matched what Thoma was saying.

Aether bit his lip in thought as he replayed the word over and over in his head. Learning a new language was a lot more difficult than Aether was expecting and he wasn’t sure how Thoma managed. Granted, Thoma did have to travel abroad for his work in the Philippines and if he wanted to live comfortably in a foreign place, adapting to their language and culture would have been necessary.

Now, though, Thoma was back permanently from his business trip, having only visited home a couple times for one week max during the two years he had to spend there. Every time he flew home for a visit, Thoma would bring back many stories and experiences, as well as souvenirs, or pasalubong, to share amongst his family and friends. Aether loved hearing about the friendly people, the white sands of Boracay, the delicious street food that often gave Thoma food poisoning, and many more and this only helped to spark Aether’s interest in the Philippines. He often found himself spending most of his weekends at Thoma’s place, learning a little bit more about their culture each time. 

Since Aether was so interested in the Philippines, Thoma started giving him Tagalog lessons, hoping it’d be enough to prepare Aether if he so chose to make the trip one day, but learning a new language is never easy, so the two had to think of creative ways to get Thoma’s lessons to stick, which led to Thoma coming up with their current game.

“You have ten seconds to figure out what ‘paa’ is,” Thoma told Aether with a smirk as he watched the other start panicking. “Isa..”

Aether’s mind started racing as Thoma started to count to ten in Tagalog, knowing full well what would happen if he failed to guess correctly. At the last moment, Aether jumped for Thoma’s feet at the end of the bed, giving the socked soles a few tickles, hearing Thoma burst into giggles from behind him. He had made a blind guess and hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite him.

“Okay, okahahahay!” Thoma sat up and pulled his leg away from Aether, wrapping his arms around his stomach as he let his giggles subside. “Okay, you were right. ‘Paa’ means feet.”

Aether cheered to himself and was rewarded with a high five from Thoma, while mentally breathing a sigh of relief, happy he had made the right choice. As part of today’s language lesson, Thoma wanted to teach Aether different body parts in Tagalog. Instead of just telling Aether what certain body parts were called in Tagalog, Thoma decided to add a little twist to today’s lesson, claiming it’d help Aether retain the information after today. As part of the “game”, Thoma would give Aether a body part in Tagalog and Aether would have to guess which one Thoma was referring to by tickling the specific area on Thoma’s body to lock in his answer. If Aether guessed right, then they moved on to the next word, but if he was wrong, then Thoma got to tickle him back by targeting the correct spot that he was referring to. It was an exciting game that kept Aether on edge because of how ridiculously sensitive he was everywhere and he knew Thoma chose tickling on purpose due to how many times they’d gotten themselves into tickle fights. At least this specific method would help properly cement some of the words into Aether’s brain.

“Alright, let’s see,” Thoma said to himself as he let his body plop down onto the bed once more, tucking both of his hands under his head. “Let’s do one a little harder.”

“Bring it on, kuya,” Aether told him as he crossed his arms together, his voice laced with the slight bit of confidence.

Thoma couldn’t help but playfully roll his eyes at the smug expression plastered on Aether’s face. “How about ‘kili kili’ this time?”

Aether definitely knew this one. Within seconds, he was on top of Thoma, having pounced straight for his stomach, giving no time for Thoma to prepare for the wiggling fingers digging into the thin grey t-shirt that protected his tummy. Since he was attacked without warning, Thoma let out a half-shriek half-squeal, followed by a steady stream of giggles.

“Wrohohong! You’re wrohohong!” Thoma tried to tell him through his giggling, attempting to slap Aether’s hands away with his own when the other kept up the tickling.

“No, you’re definitely lying!” Aether protested, his fingers digging in slightly more, insisting that he was right again. He knew he wasn’t wrong.

“Nohohoho! AHAHAHAHAHA!” Thoma’s giggles turned into full-blown laughter once Aether had turned things up a notch. He started kicking his legs and continued to cry out that Aether was incorrect, eventually managing to catch Aether’s wrists with his own hands.

“Wait, was I actually wrong?” Aether awkwardly chuckled as he looked down at Thoma’s red face, watching the other catch his breath from the tickling. 

“Y-Yeah,” Thoma managed to pant out. After recovering, he sat up on the bed and released Aether’s left arm, but still held onto the right, slowly lifting it up into the air over Aether’s head. “Stomach in Tagalog is tiyán. Kili kili means armpit.”

“Oh,” Aether muttered, feeling slightly embarrassed at his confident mistake. It wasn’t long, though, before he felt a single finger wiggle along the inside of his underarm at the edge of his sleeve, eliciting giggles from Aether.

“You were getting pretty cocky a minute ago. What happened?” Thoma couldn’t help but tease as he watched Aether squirm around, but Thoma continued to hold Aether’s wrist over his head. His finger managed to slip under the hem of the short-sleeved shirt, causing Aether to jerk around even more.

“Hehehehahaha! I’m sohohohorry!” Aether burst into hysterical laughter as he felt Thoma begin to add in more fingers scribbling against the pale skin. He tried his best to pull away, but Thoma kept his grip on his arm tight and his other hand simply chased Aether around wherever he wiggled his body.

After about a minute of tickling, Thoma finally released Aether’s arm, but still attempted to keep up the tickling, laughing playfully as he chased Aether around on the bed. Aether did his best to scoot away, but he simply wasn’t quick enough and soon felt both of Thoma’s hands in his armpits. He tried to protect his sensitive spots by clamping his arms to his body, but that only trapped Thoma’s hands in his underarms and Aether soon fell back into hysterics as he felt Thoma’s poke and pinch the tickly areas.

“Thomahahaha! Stohohohop!” Aether cried out once he felt Thoma’s hands move down to his sides, breaking the rule of the game. He squealed when he felt both of his sides being pinched, causing him to squirm back and forth as Thoma laughed along with how silly Aether looked.

“Alright, alright.” Thoma removed his hands and sat back, laughing as Aether pushed himself away and crossed his arms at him.

“You said you’d go easy,” Aether whined with a pout.

“Hehe, sorry, couldn’t resist,” Thoma told him, laughing when Aether stuck his tongue out at him. “But alright, let’s move onto the next. Hmm, how about ‘bunso’?”

Bunso? Aether’s definitely heard this one before, but he was having trouble picturing it. He bit his lip in thought, watching as Thoma laid down on the bed again. He didn’t want to mess up again like last time, but Thoma started counting out loud again and Aether couldn’t help but begin to panic for a second time.

“W-Wait, I need more time,” Aether said, but Thoma didn’t stop counting and it didn’t help that he seemed to be enjoying how nervous Aether was from the smirk on his face. The three spots that they had gone over already were feet, stomach, and armpits, so maybe bunso meant ribs? Only one way to find out.

“Wrohohohong!” Thoma managed to say through his laughter, brushing Aether’s hands away with his own.

“Ugh, I have no idea,” Aether sighed, pulling away as Thoma sat up once more. “What’s bunso?”

“Well, it’s a special word, I guess,” Thoma told him as he brought his hands to Aether’s sides, but didn’t actually start tickling, allowing his hands to rest where they were.

“So it means sides- Ahahahaha!” Aether squirmed around as Thoma began tickling him once more, but Thoma simply pounced on him, straddling Aether to keep him still.

“Actually, bunso means youngest sibling,” Thoma explained over Aether’s laughter.

“Whahahahat?!”

“In Filipino culture, we often refer to people that we’re close with that are slightly older as ‘kuya’ or ‘ate’, which mean older brother or older sister respectively, so I’m your ‘kuya’ in this case,” Thoma continued, digging even more into Aether’s sides, having to speak up as his laughter crescendoed. “Since you’re younger than me, that means you’re ‘bunso’, or the youngest.”

“Cheheheater!” Aether cried out, slapping the mattress with his hands weakly as Thoma continued to tickle him. Bunso wasn’t even a body part, so how was he even supposed to get that? Was he just supposed to tickle himself??

“Sorry to be deceiving,” Thoma snickered to himself, “but since you’re the bunso, that means I get to tickle you wherever.”

With that, Aether felt Thoma’s hands move over to his tummy, wailing as he felt his fingers dancing along the piece of bare skin that was revealed from his shirt riding upwards. His legs kicked and his arms flailed around as Thoma continued tickling one of his death spots, mentally slapping himself for falling for one of Thoma’s cheap tricks. He knew he would pull something like this at some point when Thoma brought up tickling as a potential learning tool.

“Wow, my bunso is so ticklish,” Thoma teased as Aether’s bright laughter filled the room, his fingers getting dangerously close to Aether’s bellybutton. 

“Thohohoma! Plehehehease!”

“Hmm, call me kuya instead.”

“KuhuhuyahAHAHAHA!” Aether shrieked when he felt one of Thoma’s fingers briefly dip into his navel, sending a surge of tickly sensations to his brain.

“Okay, okay, kuya’s sorry,” Thoma laughed as he removed himself from Aether, sitting beside the other boy on the bed as Aether recovered.

“You cheated,” Aether complained through his breathy pants, slapping playfully at Thoma’s arm from where he lay.

“Sorry, it was just too easy,” Thoma giggled to himself. “Tell you what; I’ll let you tickle me for as long as you want.”

Aether sat up excitedly, his eyes filled with vengeance. “Does kuya promise?”

Thoma couldn’t help but chuckle nervously to himself, already feeling a bit of regret. “Heh, yeah, kuya promises.”

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Marmien - Let Us Have Tonight

So I accidentally landed in the Marmien tag while procrastinating in work earlier in the week. I got inspired by the idea of how Mark and Damien might officially begin a relationship if Damien were the sibling Mark fell in love with originally. 

It… Was supposed to be flirty. But then it went kinda sad. With that in mind, there’s a pretty strong focus on controlling parents so I’ve stuck it under a read-more.

Word Count: 1,694

-

It had been a wonderful night. Since gaining full ownership of the Manor, Mark had redecorated and brought it up to the full splendour it deserved. It was the location of many parties that would allow optimal chances to brush shoulders with the crème de la crème of the city. But tonight, it was a smaller, more important affair. Mark had invited his three closest friends over for dinner and drinks to celebrate William’s arrival home from an overseas expedition. The staff were given the night off so the four could fully unwind without the worries of anyone eavesdropping. Spirits were high as they swapped stories and snacks. William had been hired for a job that required him being security during a wildlife documentation trip. The meal was accompanied with tales of William’s adventures and mishaps. The conversation was briefly interrupted as the four partook in the chaos of attempting to clean the dishes. Bubbles were blown, Mark’s hair was soaked, but it was good times, something all of them needed.

One the kitchen was (hopefully) to the chef’s standards, they returned to the living room to lounge on the chairs and chat. They shared casual conversation, and all took it in turns to quiz Celine on the course she was taking. Her parents didn’t think it necessary that a woman get a qualification, but she decided otherwise. After all, they didn’t particularly care what she did if she did it herself. But as for her twin brother?

--

Oh, how Mark’s heart ached when he glanced at Damien. He was the youngest child, but the only son. That meant that he was the prime focus of the parents. He was left to burden the responsibilities of the family legacy, whether he wanted it or not. His life had been plotted for him with no room for discussion on the matter. Mark was sure that they would have encouraged Damien to distance himself from Mark and William because neither men were ‘suitable’ to their impossible standards, only that they had been friends since childhood. Mark was certainly thankful for that. Damien was already a lonely soul. He couldn’t bear to think about how worse it could be. He had already spent most of the evening quiet, unable to share his own tales with how restricted his life was.

It was why he jumped the gun and asked Damien to stay on when the others were getting ready to leave. Why force him back into his cage so soon? Maybe that was why Celine agreed, throwing her brother a sympathetic look, and suggested that she too would avoid going home so Damien wouldn’t face potential punishment. Damien was grateful for the support, giving a weak chuckle when William patted his friend on the shoulder and reminded him of the soldier’s promise to ‘pummel the daylights out of your old man’ if anything did happen.

When the door closed, Mark fetched Damien a glass of water. Alcohol would not help matters right now and he knew it. He didn’t want to bring the mood down any more, not when his heart was begging to do something.

A badly kept secret in the group was this: Mark had been in love with Damien for years. Not only that, it was reciprocated. 

When they were teenagers, Mark’s parents - well-known patrons of the arts with generations of money running through their veins - had hosted a party to celebrate the success of an operatic production that had been on that day. It was a rare time Damien had returned home while in university. With Celine sick at home and William in the army barracks, the pair stole away from the stuffy public spaces and hid in the library. Talk gradually shifted from the opera they had watched, to the idea of what love was and what importance it played in their families, to how they themselves viewed romance in their lives, to Mark admitting he thought Damien to be quite beautiful and that it might be the first time he’s fallen in love, to Damien quietly confessing he wants to be with Mark. Their first kiss hidden amongst the books was soft and tentative. Murmurs of love were shared with breathy whispers, but neither could do more about it beyond sharing kisses and compliments and promises to be true no matter what. Damien was caught under his parents’ thumb. If they chased this relationship further, he would have been forbidden to return to university out of the state, transferred to the local university they wanted him to attend… And would have forbidden him to see Mark again. Instead, they agreed to stay on ‘not yet’. No matter how impatient Mark was, he’d wait. No other person made him feel ‘complete’ as Damien did.

(Oh, his parents had tried to encourage him to date Celine, but he refused. Sure, she was beautiful, but waiting for Damien was one promise he would keep)

Yet as the years went by, something always happened to result in Damien asking Mark to delay his advances no matter how he wanted the opposite. Every single time, the reason would lead to Damien’s suffocating parents being the root of the problem. At least now Mark, Celine and William were old enough to work together to try and give Damien a little more independence. Even now, Celine was willing to put her neck on the line so Damien could have some time alone with Mark with William as her accomplice. Which brings us back to the present. The pair sat in silence on the couch, Damien sipping the water as he was lost in thought. Mark barely needed to tilt his head to know that Damien was weighed down by the stories Celine and William had shared throughout the evening.

“For what it’s worth, I still think you’re incredible.” Mark’s attempt to break the silence hit the nail on the head.

“Of course you would say that,” sighed Damien, not objecting when Mark draped an arm  over his shoulder and pulled him close. “You’d say that no matter what.”

“I say it because it’s true. You’re such a clever, charming, intelligent, handsome young man. I’d listen to you talk all night if you’d let me.” There was another sigh, but Mark lightly squeezed his shoulder. “Hey, no, don’t start that. I mean it. You’re so well-read, you always have something insightful to say about everything. You’ve been able to give me tips during my rehearsals for a play you’d never heard of, for pity’s sake. Those good days are coming. We’re all older and wiser, while your parents are old-fashioned farts.” Damien snorted, but he reluctantly moved back so he could look Mark in the eye. There was a smile Mark loved to see, but it was tinged with sadness.

“You always manage to face everything head-on like a wall you can easily climb. I’ve always liked that about you.”

“I’m sitting on that wall ready to pull you up whenever you want. Just say the word.”

“You know I can’t.” The conversation was spiralling back to one they’ve had several times over the years - whether or not now was the ‘right’ time to do anything with their feelings. “My parents won’t approve -”

“Your parents haven’t approved of me from the day I went into the acting profession. They haven’t scared me away, I won’t let them.”

“But -” Damien’s counter vanished into nothing as Mark cupped Damien’s chin with his hand.

“Do my advances make you uncomfortable?”

“No.”

Mark leaned in.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“So then why not be selfish, my love, just for tonight?”

They were close, so painfully close that all Mark needed to do was push forward a fraction more. But he couldn’t. He had sworn to himself that this relationship was on Damien’s terms. If Damien moved away, he would respect that. He always did. 

In that moment, Mark was sure that all his senses were amplified. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Damien was wearing the cologne Mark gifted him for his birthday and it made him feel giddy and light-headed. He let himself be mesmerised by Damien’s beautiful eyes.

He felt an arm snake around his neck. All he could taste was Damien on his lips.

Mark’s eyes fluttered closed as Damien indulged in selfishness and pressed against him. The kiss was quick to deepen as both men let the feelings they had bottled up spill out. Mark’s hands moved fast, wrapping around Damien’s waist and encouraging him to climb onto his lap. Damien broke the kiss to catch his breath.

“I love you. God, I - I need this. I need this so badly…” He trailed off with another kiss.

“Then stay. We can say you fell asleep on the couch and I hadn’t the heart to wake you. We can have tonight and then act like this never happened.” Mark was almost pleading. He would do anything if it meant he could have this moment.

“No… Fuck my parents. I love you and I’ve hidden that for too long. I don’t care what they think.” Damien’s stubbornness, at last, had kicked in; and both men knew it wasn’t the alcohol talking. Mark laughed and brushed a hand through Damien’s hair.

“I love you. And you know, I don’t think either the world nor history won’t care about us. Did you know they think a lot of the great historical figures in Ancient Greece were in same-sex relationships? If the world finds out, they’ll do whatever they can to pin us as close friends. I know I’ve read articles showing how wilfully oblivious the press can be if the couple travel in similar social circles” Tomorrow, Damien might decide to not be as open and bold about their relationship, but Mark would gleefully encourage it tonight as his hand pressed against the back of Damien’s head so they could kiss again.

Words weren’t needed now. They had each other. Without the world watching them, they could finally keep their promise from years ago as they broke apart and embraced.

For now, at least, they had tonight.

[barbatos-devotee]

New Year’s Headcannons

How you spend the New Year: Mondstat Boys

Venti:

To celebrate the new year, Mondstat always has a festival in celebration the night before. Everyone in the city spends all day preparing, and when the sun does down, the party begins.

Venti loves taking you to this festival every year, and every year, he somehow makes it more fun than the last!

The two of you will eat tasty food from the stands and shops (sorry but you’ll have to pay) and you’ll play loads of games together

Venti obviously drinks, and you usually stop him before he can get too drunk

The closer to midnight it gets, everyone begins to gather at the base of the Barbatos statue

The bards will all sing songs together to commemorate the new year, and Venti will join in, of course.

A couple minutes before midnight, Venti will bring you up onto the hands of his statue with the help of the wind, when everyone isn’t looking (or too drunk to care/remember)

As the people below count down the seconds, the two of you will laugh and giggle as you stare down into the joyful crowd.

At the end of the countdown, you and Venti share a kiss, as the fireworks go off around you through the city.

Later in the night, while everyone parties until the sun rises, the two of you head off to Windrise, at the big tree.

There, you sit in the relative silence, cuddled together as Venti strums a song just for you on his lyre.

“Happy New Year, my love~” Venti will mutter to you, a loving smile on his face.

The two of you stay cuddled up at Windrise until the sun rises.

Diluc:

Diluc isn’t one for big celebrations, so he’s just providing the drinks that the citizens get drunk on during the festival.

Due to this, not many people are in the tavern, only coming in a couple of times just to get another drink. But Cat’s Tail is also closer to the celebrations, so many people are mainly in there.

This just leaves you and Diluc in the tavern, enjoying your time alone.

He will spend this time just with you, the two of you talking about whatever you please. If you’re an adventurer, Diluc will love listening to the stories of your recent adventures.

Closer to midnight, the two of you leave the tavern, and Diluc takes you out the back entrance of Mondstat, and the two of you sit in the grass, staring at the stars.

You can hear the cheers of the citizens as they count down to midnight, and your smile grows wider.

At one, Diluc will gently turn your face towards his, and take your lips in a gentle, but passionate kiss. The fireworks explode above the skies of the city.

“This year has been made better with you by my side. Thank you.”

The two of you eventually make your way back to the winery, and spend the rest of your time there, having a wonderful time.

Kaeya:

Kaeya will take you to the festivities, much like Venti, and the two of you will have tons of fun. Eating food, playing games, singing songs...

You guys also drink a lot, and that makes everything even more fun!

As the party goes on, you and Kaeya will travel to a less crowded place in the city, and the two of you, on your own, will have your own little dance party.

It’s much more comfortable for the both of you like this, being able to dance without the crowd of people surrounding you in the main plaza.

Kaeya will tell you he loves you every chance he gets, and he never gives up the opportunity to hold your hand or hold you close to him.

As the sounds of the citizens counting down can be heard in the distance, the two of you will share more drinks, and another dance.

At one, you both kiss, and the fireworks explode above you, lighting your forms in brilliant blues and greens.

“Darling, thank you for making this year as wonderful as you are~”

You guys laugh and drink the night away.

Bennett:

Bennett doesn’t stay in the crowd during the New Year, not wanting to give his bad luck to all the people around them. Instead, the two of you run around in Windrise, laughing and playing and eating the food you brought with you.

You both have to beat up a few slimes, attracted to you by Bennett’s bad luck, but the night is relatively danger-free.

Closer to midnight, the two of you rest and head back into the city, joining the crowd as they count down to midnight.

At one, you laugh and kiss Bennett, who goes red in the face in turn, and the fireworks begin to go off

Somehow, a firework explodes towards you guys, and Bennett gets blown away by it, but it’s okay because he’s used to exploding because of his own Vision.

Only on New Years will your boyfriend get blasted 50 feet away by a rogue firework

As you retrieve him and take him to the cathedral, you giggle at him.

“Thanks for helping me feel like the luckiest guy alive this year, even if I just got blown up by a firework.” Bennett laughs, as you drag him to Barbara for healing.

Razor:

The two of you don’t spend New Year’s in Mondstat, you stay in Wolvendom and the forest around it

You’ve told Razor about the New Year celebrations, and even if he doesn’t quite understand fully, he still does his best to live up to what you did tell him

Razor loves spending whatever time he can get with you anyways, so this is almost like another day for him, but he still wants to make it special.

He; with the help of Klee and Lisa, who came by before you did, set up a small party area around the cave entrance where he lived. They decorated with snacks and flowers, and Klee left some non-exploding (hopefully) Jumpty Dumpties

When you came by, Razor showed you the little celebration area, and this made you smile

The rest of the night was spent with the two of you eating and laughing, and playing in the forest

Razor takes you to all his favourite places, and eventually you both sit and watch the stars.

“You... make Razor very happy.. this year. Stay with him... always.” Razor will tell you, as he nuzzles up into your side/chest. You simply smile and run your fingers through his hair.

The faint sound of fireworks can be heard, as the two of you cuddle under the moonlight.

(I wanted to write for Albedo but I haven’t started his story quest I literally do not know how to write for this man)

//Thank you guys for reading! I hope you have a happy New Year’s (first day of 2021 folks, let’s get it!!) and enjoy yourselves! Sorry if you all don’t like what I wrote for Bennett or Kaeya, I’m not too good at writing them. Oof ok now onto the other characters-

[ad1thi]

2020 fic recs!! [Part 1]

this idea was stolen from @iam93percentstardust cuz i just,,,thought that this year was absolute shit and it would be nice to make a fic rec list of fics from this year that helped me through it. this will be over a range of fandoms and ships, but all fics were written this year. 

fics are ordered by the month they were published. ive tried to keep to five fics per month, but this is not obviously all the fics ive read that month - i just didn’t want to make this insanely long. 

im releasing the first half of this on the 1st of December, and the second half on the 1st of January 2021 - because otherwise it would just get so long (and also so i will actually have fics for December)

happy reading!! hopefully you find fics on this you haven’t read yet

***

January

The cat is mighty dignified (until the dog comes by): @five-wow

Steve and Danny find them on the pillow in the corner of the dining area, where Eddie is on his side, ass half on the floor because the pillow is more cat-sized than lab-sized, and Pickles is nestled between Eddie’s front legs, essentially being spooned and looking very I-got-the-cream about it. Pickles’ head is tucked into the crook of Eddie’s neck and Eddie’s head slots perfectly on top of Mr. Pickles’, like a furry jigsaw puzzle.

“They’re cuddling,” Steve points out, unnecessarily.

Or: There is a love story unfolding under the McGarrett roof.

Captain ‘Socialist Rage Muffin’ America: @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

It takes three months of dating Steve Rogers for Tony to understand why Aunt Peggy once shot at him in sheer frustration.

Alternately titled, Honey, I committed treason again.

The Best Laid Plans (Of Mice and Men): @arboreal-elm-ash-oak

His Dark Materials AU

It was Annalise who noticed their small visitor first.

“Tony,” the spider daemon said softly, skittering up the collar of his dress shirt, two of her eight legs resting delicately against his cheek, “Don’t startle them, but I believe we have a guest. Look, by the coffee table.”

Fourteen Million to One: @tunastorks

Six months after Thanos, six months after Tony’s death, six months after Steve returns to his own timeline, Tony Stark turns up on their doorstep.

Brewed Awakening: @iam93percentstardust

Two years after he comes out of the ice, Steve is drifting through life. On his teammate's recommendation, he decides to go back to school where he meets the grandson of an old friend. He finds happiness with Tony but Steve won't be in Boston forever and someone is out to hurt the Starks. Will Steve and Tony be able to reach their happily ever after?

February

the young, the reckless and the foolish: @bruciewayne

In most universes, they don't know each other, not in the slightest, or they hate each other, in a way that's perfectly logical for anyone who were to find themselves in a similar situation.

In this one, they've known each other since they were four years old and naively idealistic.

This is them over the years, against the odds.

a giant sign: @areiton

“Think you can get him to open the weapons division up again?” his CO asks, his voice hungry and Rhodey laughs because this--

“No. Tony hung up his weapons.”

“That’s not what the suit says,” his CO objects, and Rhodey shrugs.

Tony has always had rules, rules he expects the entire world to live by.

And then there was Rhodey, slipping under them.

my heart is driftwood, floating down your coast: @nethandrake

Tonight, there’s a stranger in his backseat. That’s not unusual.

He’s also sad. That’s not unusual either.

What is unusual is that the stranger is silent.

(One night, a stranger enters Steve's taxi. Nothing is the same again.)

Just A Cold: @/delighted 

There’s a new text waiting for him. It’s from Steve of course, and it’s vaguely threatening as most messages from Steve are these days. Still Danny ignores it, and now he’s really playing with fire. Maybe it’ll burn the cold out of him.

Or, Danny’s sick, and Steve can’t stay away. The usual comfort fluff. With a little cameo from a gently meddling Grace.

An Unexpected Guide: @/Rachel500

Danny Williams has hidden his Guide status to keep being a detective, but his time of hiding is up when he unexpectedly finds his Sentinel, Steve McGarrett in the midst of a tragedy.

March

Why don’t we (Collide the spaces that divide us): @five-wow

When they finally catch sight of each other again through the milling crowds, they’re both a little worse for wear. Danny’s left side is covered in glitter and every time he brushes a hand over his hair, more blue and purple confetti rains down. Steve is- Well, Steve is randomly shirtless, which is all things considered not excessively remarkable, but he’s also covered in smudges of colorful paint and has a very nicely printed bloodred lipstick kiss mark on his cheek.

“What did you do?” Danny asks, because it looks like Steve had a lot more fun than he did.

Or: Steve and Danny accidentally end up in the middle of something entirely new.

A Little Unsteady: @finduilasclln 

Written for the Tumblr prompt meme : "Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

Tony lashes out at Bucky for eating his dessert. Only, it really isn't about the dessert.

a national treasure: @starklysteve

Steve isn't looking for an apple and Tony decides his passion is to inspire young souls. -x- OR: the AU where Tony is a Youtuber and Steve is Captain America and somehow they still save the world together.

April

cycle through: @ambivalentmarvel

Twenty-five years ago, Tony Stark disappeared from his family home a month after the tragic deaths of his parents, Howard and Maria Stark, leaving a billion-dollar tech conglomerate without an heir and the world wondering what happened.

Twenty-three years ago, HYDRA gained another super soldier.

Ten years ago, Peter Parker’s parents died in what is ruled as a home invasion gone wrong but he knows was murder, plain and simple, because he spoke to the killer.

And in the present, Project Insight fails, and the Iron Soldier pays the price.

FOREVER-LOVE YOU-I: @/Eudoxia

Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

Especially for Tony's soulmate.

--

Companion piece to my fic Thumb, Index, and Pinky Extended. This is Steve's POV, with a few extra scenes, as a treat.

(Edit: Sorry if you guys get multiple notifications for this. I just realized (about two hours after posting it) that I fucked up the grammar in the title and I HAD to fix it. YOLO, I guess.)

come build a home out of me: @maguna-stxrk

Steve clears his throat.

“What if I went with you?” he asks nonchalantly, like his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his ribcage.

Tony blinks a few times, looking at Steve, his mouth ajar. “As a— As my date?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, feeling a little breathless.

“You don’t mind?” Tony furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t. In fact, you can just tell them I’m your boyfriend. I’m sure they’ll back off, wouldn’t they?”

What.

“I— Huh?” Tony stares at him, brown eyes blown wide open.

What. What. What.

“Huh? Uh, I mean— You know, that way people will see that you have definitely moved on. Monica will see that you have moved on. Right?” Steve smiles, hoping that it masks his inner panic, because what?

Steve Rogers, what have you done?

i don’t have a choice (but i’d still choose you): @nethandrake

There’s a name inked onto his chest, a name written in an all-too familiar scrawl. And it’s— It’s—

Steve doesn’t realize his body is quaking until he’s tracing the tattoo with a shaky finger.

Because of course that is the name etched into the skin. Like a brand, a reminder for everything he has done. An appropriate retribution.

Anthony Edward Stark.

(When Thanos snaps half of the universe away, he unknowingly leaves the other half with soulmarks.)

ua haʻalele ʻoe iaʻu (a ua hoʻomālamalama ʻoe iaʻu): @just-fandomthings

"The truth is, I was shot in the chest and nearly died, and not even three days after I was released from the hospital, you up and left-- and of those two, I'm not sure which one hurt me worse!"

(Coda to 10x22 because come on, we all need a better ending than the one given to us.)

Title loosely translates to: "You left me in the dark (you lit me up)" -- inspired by the brilliant song "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur

May

A Piece Of The Past: @hddnone

It had been so many years since Bucky had gone undercover in the Stark family's mob, he thought he'd gotten away clean.

Then Tony Stark slid into the seat across from him at his breakfast diner, and Bucky's boss has a new case for him.

the privilege of loving you: @starklysteve

“Why won’t you let me touch you?”

It’s a desperate plea, half-shouted and half-whispered, Steve’s voice cracking at the end. Tony stops in his tracks, halfway to the stairs. He doesn’t dare to turn back, and he really doesn’t want to fight, or to leave, to spend the last month of his life away from his husband and their son. But Steve can’t know, can he?

-x-

Or: Tony has palladium poisoning, but he doesn't tell Steve and Peter

your pillow feels so soft now (but still you must advance): @firebrands

When Bruce is 13, he decides to go to boarding school. It's an opportunity for him to learn about other people, and how to interact with them.

Bruce has the misfortune of meeting Tony Stark upon his arrival in Roxbury. Bruce is moving into his room, and Tony opens the door of his room to watch. He looks a bit younger than Bruce, hair wild and eyes bright. Bruce has never seen a boy like him before—handsome and confident.

Bruce doesn’t like it.

IMPORTANT: This fic has them meeting at 14, then progresses slowly until they’re 17. Includes underage drinking and kissing.

This is set before Bruce becomes Batman and Tony becomes Iron Man and I have no explanation as to how or why they just DO Canonically, Bruce is 17 when he finishes school and goes around the world to train, so we're sticking with that

The Real MVP: @sword-and-stars (part of a series)

[“I have saved this Tuesday!” Sokka announces, rattling the bag upon reentry.

Zuko doesn’t even look up from his phone as he deadpans, “It’s Thursday.”

Okay, so Sokka is still having trouble getting his days right without checking. At least he’s gone back to sleeping at night! Going to bed at night is way easier when you have a cute, cuddly boyfriend who starts falling asleep around eleven o’clock. It also helps that he and Zuko are on solid gold butt-touching terms.

It’s been a while since Sokka has been on butt-touching terms with someone and it’s amazing.]

Or,

Sokka knows a guy, gets laid, and introduces Zuko to the merits of an afternoon delight.

When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it): @riotwritesthings

There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch.

And one tiny little bed.

June

Nice Fingers: @anthonyed

A single compliment given by Tony stirs Bucky restless until he caves in and asks him out on a date.

With Steve’s help of course (whether he likes it or not).

The Darkest Touch: @starkrogerrs

This is the story of how Steve finds that it has been ordained that he is to marry a monster he cannot resist aka the God of Love himself, Tony.

It's Cupid x Psyche retold, but with thrice the amount of porn.

The Night Shift:  @weethreequarter

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

Wind Beneath My Wings: @iam93percentstardust

Sam first meets Tony Stark in 2005 when he joins the EXO-7 Falcon program.

In jest: @/apathyinreverie

“No, babe,” Danny shakes his head with a grin. “If the apocalypse were to go down while I’m elsewhere for some godforsaken reason, then you stay put and I’m coming to wherever you are.” His grin widens. “And I expect you to have cleared any aliens or zombies or whatever else might be messing with us off the island and to have set up a nice, comfortable military dictatorship for us to rule over by the time I get back.”

It’s a joke.

Of course it’s a joke.

Until it isn’t.

(A the-day-after-tomorrow-style apocalypse AU, where the world decides to end right when Danny is visiting one of the other islands with Grace. Because, of course, it does.)

[ahopelessromantic]

Making Moves ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 2,5k

Warnings: none, Spencer likes being called doctor but what else is new

Spencer and you have been floating around in your own bubble for a while now. Maybe it’s time to let other people in on it as well.

After a long day of lectures and studying, your shower’s steady stream of warm water felt heavenly. With a happy sigh you leaned further into the stream, when suddenly a pair of arms snuck around your naked waist. You jumped up in shock for a second, and only then remembered that you had given your boyfriend the spare key to your apartment. “Hi.” You giggled breathlessly, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin of yours. Instead of returning your greeting, Spencer just buried his head in the crook of your neck. “Long day?” While waiting for him to answer you reached back to play with his curls. “Hhm.” He groaned. “The worst.” It was only then that you decided to turn around, cupping his face in your hands to take a proper look at him. The shadows underneath his eyes looked darker and his cheekbones stood out even more than usual. You placed an innocent kiss on his lips. “Take as long as you need, I’ll go ahead and make us dinner, okay?”His eyes softened, and for a moment the tiredness in his face was gone. Spencer nodded and made room for you to leave the shower, but only after pressing a kiss to your hand.

“So, what you’re saying is that theoretically, a TARDIS is possible?” Spencer threw his head back in a laugh. “That’s not what I said!” You faked a pout, poking at his ribs. “Well, explain it to me then wonder boy!” The two of you were cuddled up on your tiny couch, a soft blanket thrown over you and a doctor who marathon playing on the tv. The only way you could both fit on the sofa was when you were basically laying on top of each other, but you couldn’t really find it in you to complain about that. Your boyfriend didn’t seem to mind, either. He slightly sat up and lifted your chin with his fingers, capturing your lips in a kiss that made your insides melt. “You still didn’t explain!” You mumbled into the kiss, coaxing another smile from his lips. In your living room’s dim lightning his eyes looked like honey and there was a warmth to them you didn’t get to witness every day. “Can you… shut up and let me kiss you?” He almost shyly asked, trapped between two of his favourite things in the world: geeking out without being judged for it and making out with his girlfriend. Today, he seemed to be in the mood for the latter.You hummed, leaning into him. “I can do that, I guess.”

Unfortunately, evenings like these weren’t the standard for the two of you. Spencer worked an incredibly demanding job, and even though your university didn’t send you to crime scenes with a gun strapped to your hip it still wasn’t exactly easy, either. You were a law student, in the middle of specialising on criminal law to hopefully one day go into law enforcement. It was only ironic that your own boyfriend had turned out to be an FBI-Agent a few dates in. But then again, you were a firm believer that everything happened for a reason. You had walked into that bar during orientation week last year for a reason, and the first thing your eyes had fallen upon had been Spencer for a reason.

“I bet I can destroy you in that game.” You had boldly told the handsome stranger while sitting down across from him. He had looked at you in confusion for a moment, his mouth slightly open, but then seemed to catch himself. “That is highly unlikely.” He had stated, is if it were a fact. You had looked him directly in the eyes, encouraged by the gin tonic coursing through your veins. “Let’s find out, shall we?” Somehow, one round of rummy had turned into four, and somehow, you had actually managed to win two times, one of which with a glorious full house. At some point the conversation between you two had began to flow freely, and you could still remember feeling so incredibly fascinated over everything this man had said. Something about his way of speaking, the way he chose his words, the intelligence in his eyes, had pulled you in to a point of no return. You had kissed him on the cheek that very night, not knowing how else to thank him for walking you home. He had even insisted on it, not expecting the short walk to your apartment off campus to turn into a full-blown mini hike. Afterwards the two of you had stood in front of your door, his cheeks red and his hands inexplicably trembling. Spencer had later told you that he had never felt the way he had felt around you before, and that in that moment his biggest fear had been to never see you again. But even though you had exchanged numbers before saying goodbye you had run into each other again much, much earlier than expected. The very next morning, to be precise. When you had innocently walked into your forensic linguistics elective class and met eyes with one certain Doctor Spencer Reid, the day’s guest lecturer.

“Maybe if you didn’t drink so much coffee and ate more breakfast you wouldn’t basically pass out whenever I take you running with me.” You playfully scolded your boyfriend the next morning, shoving a croissant in his direction. He barely even looked up from his notes, blindly reaching for the piece of pastry. After breakfast you watched him getting ready for work. Spencer long had his own drawer of clothes in your apartment, his own ties and jackets hanging in your closet. The transition from barely sleeping at each other’s places to basically living with each other had happened so slowly and naturally that one day you had just woken up in his arms and decided that neither of you wanted it any other way anymore. You were probably once and for all going to officially move in with each other soon as well, but before you did that you still needed to sort out some things in your relationship. “Let me help you, Doctor Reid.” You smiled seductively after seeing him struggle with the knot of his tie. He chuckled nervously, a slight blush blooming over his cheeks. “Honey, you know I’m trying to get going to work, not get going in another way.” Smiling, you pressed a kiss to his nose. “Whatever, Doctor Reid.” Behind closed doors you loved teasing him, riling him up just to see him get all smiley and flustered. You had been in love before, but in comparison to the way you felt about Spencer all the ones that had been there before him faded into a dull grey. A part of you was convinced that you had been in love with someone before but had never really loved them. In a way, you liked to think of Spencer as your first and hopefully last love. Trying to seize every moment you had with him you even accompanied him to your door, childishly trying to keep him from leaving by placing kisses all over his face. “Baby, I have to go.” Your rational side knew he was right, but it was very hard to let that side come to light when your emotional side was looking at Spencer with an empty head and heart eyes. “I love you.” He murmured and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You beamed at him. “I love you more. I’ll see you later in your lecture?” He nodded, and with one last kiss he was out the door.

Technically, you had long collected all the credits you could in forensic linguistics. But that didn’t stop you from still visiting your boyfriend whenever he guest lectured for a friend, silently giving him the support he was always so grateful for. Knowing you were there in the audience always gave him an insane boost in confidence, up to a point where now a whole group of girls in the class swooned over him on the regular. You loved telling him about them and loved even more how shy he got over it, forever trying to help him feel surer of himself and his skills.

“JJ, you got something to do right now?” Morgan asked with a grin, leaning over her desk. “Loads. Why?” She asked with a suspicious tone to her voice. “We want to go visit pretty boy at his lecture, see how he does as a professor. Even Hotch is coming.” With a heavy sigh, JJ closed the file she had been looking into. Goddamnit, if she wasn’t interested in seeing Reid in action. “Let’s go.” She just said, getting up to join the rest of the team in the bullpen. They all carpooled to the lecture hall, surprised over how many people and especially girls were there in the audience to watch Reid. “Looks like Reid’s got some fans.” Hotch murmured, the tiniest of smiles playing around his lips.

At the end of the lecture you packed your things and walked up to Spencer, politely waiting for the people in front of you to finish asking their questions. You noticed the way your boyfriend’s glance kept on distractedly landing on you only to refocus on his students again and couldn’t help the smile on your face. What were you supposed to do? You loved him, after all. “Doctor Reid.” You finally greeted him once he was done answering questions. He visibly straightened up upon hearing his title, giving you a contained smile. Even though you weren’t technically his student the two of you still preferred to not openly flaunt your relationship on campus, just to avoid getting into any form of trouble. “Did you like today’s lecture, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” He asked while shoving his things into the old leather satchel he always carried with him. You grinned. “I loved it. But it was terribly difficult to concentrate today.” Spencer just nodded in mocked thoughtfulness. “And why is that?”

Looking at the two of you from afar must have just looked like an overly nice student asking her professor some questions, but something about the way Reid smiled at this girl set something off in Morgan. The usually so awkward genius seemed oddly comfortable around the pretty girl standing in front of him, something that didn’t really happen often. Never, actually, now that he thought of it. “Guys, do you think that’s his girlfriend?” He hushed. The rest of his team whipped their heads around to look at him. “His what?!” Emily asked. “Come on, think about it. We’ve all noticed that he’s been feeling himself more than usual lately. He even comes into work looking well rested sometimes, when has that ever happened before?” Garcia’s chin dropped in realisation. “I saw him drive the opposite way of his apartment after work sometimes. I just thought he’s taking a detour or something…” Before any of them could continue to speculate about Spencer Reid’s private life, Morgan had already made his way down the stairs to the lecturer’s podium.

“Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Derek Morgan.” A handsome tall man suddenly interrupted yours and Spencer’s banter. You took his hand in confusion, looking over to your boyfriend for an answer to this situation. He just stood there frozen in place, eyes wandering between you and the stranger. So, he did know the man? “I’m (Y/N).” You hesitantly introduced yourself. That seemed to shake Spencer out of his stupor.“(Y/N), this is Morgan, part of the team at the BAU. Morgan, this is (Y/N), my uh…” He took a deep breath. “My girlfriend.” A wide grin spread across his colleague’s face, and a bright blush across yours. “I knew it!” He chuckled, clapping a hand against Spencer’s shoulder. “It is so nice to meet you.”

After that the rest of his team suddenly joined the three of you at the bottom of the stairs, attacking you with questions about their ‘pretty boy’. You set yourself a mental reminder to tease him about that later. “I hope you know that it’s our obligation to take the two of you to lunch now.” The extravagantly dressed woman that had introduced herself to you as Penelope told you determinedly. You grinned, your glance landing on Spencer. He looked like he had accepted his fate already and returned your gaze defeatedly. You had known that his team was close, a bond forged through danger and long nights of working on cases together, but you frankly hadn’t expected a bunch of professional fbi agents to be this close and warm.

“So, how did the two of you meet?” JJ, who was sitting across from you in the small Italian restaurant asked while cutting her saltimbocca romana. You looked down at your spaghetti shyly, feeling your ears grow hot under all the attention that was on you ever since Spencer’s team had basically ambushed the two of you. “I, uh… I tipsily thought I could beat him in rummy.” Morgan started laughing incredulously. “Okay, you’ve got balls. I respect that. Did he at least let you win once?” “I didn’t need to.” Spencer suddenly spoke up, slowly warming up to the situation. He liked how somehow, you seemed to fit right in with his team, and couldn’t help but wonder what it was going to be like when you one day joined the fbi yourself. “She won. Twice. One of which with the meanest full house I’ve ever seen.” His eyes met yours, and the look of respect and pure love in them made you feel all warm on the inside. A round of ‘oohs’ went through the team assembled around the table. From there on the ice seemed to be once and for all broken, and the more time passed the more comfortably you started sinking into your seat. You felt like maybe, this had been that one last step you had needed to go all the way in your relationship. Watching Spencer letting his guard down around his team, seeing him so happy around the people he loved, gave you an idea. You secretly started looking through your bag for a pen, scribbling a tiny note onto your napkin and shoving it to where he was sitting across from you. He didn’t even notice it at first, he only saw it laying in front of him after you shoved your foot against his under the table. You watched him read it in nervous anticipation, taking in the way his expression changed from confused to shocked to… happy? He leaned over the table to snatch the pen from you with a tiny smile, scribbled something onto the napkin and handed it back to you while mouthing ‘I love you’. With a beating heart you unfolded the note and felt the tiniest amount of happy tears prick at your eyes.

Move in with me?

Stood there in your writing, and underneath that in his:

Yes :)

[sierraraeck]

One More Night

Spencer x GN! Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Spencer stays in town after the case to try and convince you to give him one more night, and one last chance, to change your mind before marrying another man. Part two.

Category: Fluff with some angst because apparently I can’t write anything without it.

Warnings: Cussing. Quick mention of normal CM stuff. Suggestive content.

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: Inspired by the song “One More Night” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct.

What you had feared finally happened. The floodgates had opened. Not just opened, but blown apart, letting the roaring water take over, sweeping away everything in its path. Potentially including the nice life you’d just created for yourself.

And to Spencer’s credit, he was very persistent.

You walked away from that hotel room in a mess of tears. Telling the man you’d loved for years that you can’t be with him was an emotional load you were not ready, nor willing, to carry. It took you the entire car ride, the long way home, and two extra loops around your neighborhood before you felt calm enough to go inside and face Jordan.

Jordan.

The endearing, handsome, smart, loving, and appreciative man you were set to marry in just a couple weeks. And now you felt like a terrible person who didn’t deserve him because of this Spencer problem, and your sort of emotional cheating. Not to mention the kiss. Which you let happen. But you did pull away right? You did reality check the situation and you did walk away. That counted for something, right? You chose Jordan.

You pulled into the garage, and with one final deep breath, you walked into your small, but cozy, house. The smell hit your nose before anything else, and you knew before having to enter the kitchen that he was making his famous lasagna and homemade garlic bread. God, he spoiled you sometimes.

“Wow, would you smell that,” you said with an exaggerated breath in, dropping your bag and shoes at the door.

“Atrocious, isn’t it? Good thing I’ve gone noseblind by now,” he turned around as you approached the kitchen, giving you a sweet, welcome home kiss. “You didn’t eat, right? I knew you were going out with that old friend of yours, but I couldn’t remember if that was for food or just - hey, everything okay?”

You tried to hide the slight panic from your voice when replying, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He shook his head, “Uh, I mean, your eyes just look a little puffy that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah. It was a bit of a rough day today,” you admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did something happen with that friend of yours?” he questioned.

Yes. “No, not like that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. How was your day?” you asked. He launched into a story about how the new girl at work couldn’t seem to get anything right, and how he questioned if she even actually went to law school or not. You assured him that she’d get better with time. Everything gets better with time. Right?

You let him finish his cooking and the two of you sat down together for dinner, talking about work and friends and then he brought up wedding planning. Which you weren’t really in the mood or mindset for. And to make matters worse, he had to go and get all sweet on you.

“God, I can’t wait to get married. Sometimes I still wake up and can’t believe it’s real. I choose you, for the rest of my life, and I can’t wait until you officially choose me too. I hope you know that,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

He could always make you feel better, even when you didn’t feel you deserved it. “I do know that, and I love you, Jordan. So much.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When you woke up, you felt much happier than you did the night before. Jordan was everything you wanted and more than you could hope for. Spencer was going back across the country to his job, and you were going back to yours.

Or at least, that was the plan.

When you arrived at work, you walked toward your office only to be frantically stopped by one of the interns who was currently under your supervision. “Uh, sorry to bother you, but there’s someone waiting for you in your office.”

“What? I didn’t forget a meeting did I?” you panicked.

“Oh, no, this is just some random guy. He told me he knew you and I couldn’t really stop him from coming in,” she said.

“O-okay. Thank you,” you said, and brushed by her, your curiosity driving you to your office even before you stopped for your morning coffee. You practically threw open the door and froze in your tracks.

That was not just some random guy waiting for you in your office.

“What are you doing here?”

Spencer looked up at you from the chair across your desk that usually seated clients or co-workers. “Sorry for showing up out of the blue. Can we talk? I brought coffee.”

He gave you a small smile and gestured toward the cup sitting on your desk. Can we talk? That’s always a good sign.

You snapped out of the frozen state you’d been in, shutting your office door and crossing the room to sit in your chair. You took a long sip of your coffee under Spencer’s watchful eye. “What can I help you with?” You did everything in your power not to sigh.

“No, nothing like that,” he said, breaking you out of your attorney-client attitude. “I just - I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just looked at him, inviting him to continue. Luckily he did, breaking the silence, “I know that you have something with Jordan-”

“-we’re engaged, yes,” you corrected him. It wasn’t just ‘something.’ It was a serious commitment.

“Right. You and him are engaged, and I know that there isn’t much I can do or say, but I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“A chance for what?” you questioned. You were confused, and tired of being so considering you thought you’d just passed the only bit of confusion you would experience.

“A chance to change your mind. To make sure that you are making the right decision,” he stated.

Your mouth was hanging open. Is he seriously asking me on a date right now? “Spencer, I am making the right decision. And are you asking me out?”

“I guess so. And if you are making the right decision with Jordan, then this should change nothing. If by the end of it, you feel nothing for me and you know that you want to be with Jordan for the rest of your life, then I did everything I can, and I know you are happy. But if that is not the case, and you still have feelings for me too, then…” he trailed off, followed by a sigh, “All I’m asking is that you give me one more night.”

“You are asking me to cheat on my fiance.”

“No, I am asking you to give me one more night, one more chance, to change your mind.”

He stared at you with intense eyes, searching yours for an answer. You sat there, trying to process everything that was happening, weighing your options. I can’t do this, right? It’ll basically be like going on a date when I’m about to get married. But he did say that if I’m confident in Jordan, which I am, this won’t change anything. And it won’t. If he needs this to know that he did everything he could, to give him some closure, what’s the harm? It won’t do anything except give him some piece of mind. I’ll do this for his benefit. And how bad could just one night be?

“Fine,” you said, and his lips immediately turned up, “I’ll be out of here by six, hopefully.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” he said simply, getting up to head towards the door.

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re meeting?”

“No. It’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up from work?”

You let out another sigh, but tried to cover it with, “Alright.”

He shot you one last smile before exiting your office, and you couldn’t help but return it. But only a little bit.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You were expecting yourself to dread the end of the day, knowing that whatever happened tonight wouldn’t end well, but in spite of yourself, you were actually looking forward to it. The day couldn’t go by fast enough actually, and you were out of the office the moment the clock hit six. You quickly sent Jordan a text explaining that you were very busy with work, and would have to stay late. You felt guilty lying to him. He deserved your honesty, but he also deserved your undivided love and attention, which you knew you couldn’t give him until this was put to rest. Telling him about some stupid little one-time ‘closure’ thing for an old flame before you got married was not what he needed to hear. So you slowly descended the stairs to the lobby, and reminded yourself: This is for Spencer’s benefit, it won’t change my mind, I’m only giving him one more night, and that’s it.

You reached the lobby and looked around for that fluffy head of hair you knew had to be there somewhere. Then you felt a small tap on your right shoulder, and turned in that direction. The moment you noticed no one was there, you knew what was going on. You rolled your eyes as you dramatically turned to your left and huffed, “I hate you.”

“Or so you claim,” Spencer said, beaming. He could always get you with that one, no matter how many times he did it to you. It was infuriating, but somewhat endearing to see his goofy smile every time you fell for it. “You never learn.”

“Yeah, because no other normal person does that to people on a regular basis,” you defended.

“(y/n), when have we ever been normal?” You raised your eyebrows. He had a point.

He ushered you out of the building and toward the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

“I told you. It’s a surprise,” he said, opening up the passenger side door for you.

“Spencer, you don’t have to-”

“I want to. Please, (y/n), let me do this for you.” With that, you got in the car, and surrendered your evening to the whim of Doctor Spencer Reid.

Now, you knew California pretty well. Grew up and lived there your entire life. Yet, somehow, wherever Spencer was taking you was in a direction that was unfamiliar, and what you could grasp at around you didn’t point to some destination spot that you would consider a ‘destination spot.’

Thirty minutes in, and the scenery looked as though you were headed to the woods, which didn’t make sense since that was not at all Spencer’s scene, and it made you realize you were probably inappropriately dressed in your work clothes. You gave Spencer a questioning side eye, and you saw him suppress a smirk. Only a couple minutes later, the trees cleared a bit, revealing a charming little town. And by little, you mean little. Like a total of ten or so establishments little.

Spencer moseyed on over to a white box of a building with a glistening sign reading “California’s Best Italian.” You gave Spencer yet another look when he parked the car, but he still didn’t offer you more than a small smile. As you both got out of the car, you rolled your eyes and skeptically asked, “California’s best Italian, huh?”

“Only the best for you,” he replied. He saw the seriousness in your eyes and assured, “It is vastly underrated, trust me.”

So you did just that, walking into the building with Spencer. The entire dining room, which was surprisingly bigger than you’d imagined from the outside, was empty. The hostess waiting at the front door smiled at the two of you, and led you to an already set table. It had all the classics: white table cloth, candle light, a few roses in the middle, two awaiting glasses of champagne. It was cliche as hell, but nevertheless stunning. As you sat down you realized that, while you’d been on amazing dates with Jordan and they were all adventurous and unconventional, that you’d never had the ‘out-of-the-movies’ dinner date experience.

You were impressed, to say the least, and whispered, “How’d you pull this off?”

“We may or may not have worked a case here a while back. They said we could cash in a favor any time we’d like for helping them. This was mine,” he sheepishly admitted. You did everything you could to not gape at him, but you're sure his trained eye could read you anyway.

“Spencer, seriously you didn’t have to-”

“I know. You keep saying that, but I wanted to,” he reminded you in the same way he did earlier that evening.

The same smiley hostess that met you at the door earlier returned with menus, and there was a twinkle in her eye that made you wonder just what Spencer had told them this was. Not like you’d ever ask. You weren’t even sure you wanted the answer.

You looked over the menu and ordered shrimp fettuccine while Spencer ordered a classic spaghetti.

“Still with the simple classics,” you tutted.

“You can never go wrong with them. Especially spaghetti,” he said, eyes getting wider. You had to let out a slight laugh at his childlike giddiness at something so trivial as spaghetti. But that was just Spencer. Sharing facts and getting happy over the little things. It was kinda refreshing to see, especially considering the dark nature of both of your jobs.

When dinner was served, it smelled amazing. You practically moaned at your first bite, and apologized for underestimating the small diner. You had to agree: they really did have the best Italian food in California.

Conversation with Spencer started a little rocky, the two of you getting reacquainted with each other before it started to flow like you’d never spent time apart. You related on the work front, and talked about friends and co-workers. You laughed about past and present things, and for a moment, you forgot there was a world outside this time-warped one that Spencer had created for the two of you. It was just so natural; you always knew it had been. Your quirks and his quirks complimented each other, and the way you’d both grown into older versions of your nerdy college selves but with somewhat better social skills was almost amusing. You were both entirely invested in your jobs, and you could see just how much he cared about everyone. The families he worked tirelessly for, and those he worked tirelessly with. And you. God, he cared about you so much, it had to have been squeezing his heart into oblivion.

When you both finished your meal and your champagne, Spencer stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, standing up, and gave him a questioning look. Dining and dashing was not in Spencer’s fortey, so without really knowing what to do, you reached for your credit card.

“Oh, no,” the waitress said with a grin, “This was on the house.”

“That’s very sweet, but really I can-” you started, waving your card around.

“No, seriously. Anything for Doctor Reid and his company,” she insisted, still grinning, now accompanied by an eyebrow raise. You returned her smile, trying to hide the slight confusion on your face. Now you really wanted to know what Spencer had told them this was.

“Come on,” Spencer whispered, ushering you out of the restaurant.

Once you exited, you asked, “You really must have saved their asses for them to treat you like that.”

“I may have down played just what happened to this town,” he admitted, “but it’s not that important. Unless you want to hear about it.”

“I could go for a brief synopsis,” you shrugged.

“About a year ago, this town had one of the worst serial killers we’ve ever seen. By the time we got here, there were already six bodies and counting. He moved fast and we found out that his real target was the owner of that restaurant. We saved them with only seconds to spare, and I was the one with the final shot. It’s a family business, so they were all very relieved and grateful we saved their family and their life’s work.” He said it so casually you gaped at him. You knew how modest he could be, but he really couldn’t see how heroic he sounded. He must’ve been uncomfortable by your staring, because he followed with, “What? What is it?”

“Just, you say that like it happens every day.”

“Well, it is my job, so it does kind of happen frequently,” he pointed out.

“Okay, yeah, but not for the everyday person. Those people see you as their knight in shining armor, Spencer. I think you should indulge yourself in that every now and then,” you advised.

“I am no one’s ‘knight and shining armor,’” he replied, shaking his head.

“Don’t be like that,” you scolded, and he looked at you with a serious face, “You catch the bad guy. You can’t get more heroic than that. Plus, you are keeping people from all over the country safe, not to mention keeping me employed.”

He offered a small laugh at that, and continued walking down the road past the car.

“What are you doing? The car’s right here,” you arched an eyebrow.

“I know,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“So we’re walking,” you phrased it more as a statement than a question. You only got a nod in response. “Seriously? You’re still not going to tell me where we’re going, are you?” He just shook his head as his smile grew. “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” you joked.

“Come on, you love surprises,” he said.

“Yeah, because usually I already have a good idea what’s going to happen,” you quipped.

He rolled his eyes. “Then maybe you should have been the profiler.”

You laughed, “Yeah, no. I’m good where I am, thanks. I’ll leave the whole guns, shooting criminals, flying across the country at 2am thing to you.”

“I feel very certain you have your fair share of 2am work nights.”

“Oh I do. I’m just at home sipping coffee in my sweats, not in work clothes on a plane to the middle of nowhere,” you acknowledged, and he put his hands up as to say ‘touche.’ “But hey, the next time I’m up at 2am, I’ll be sure to take comfort in the fact that at least someone else is too, probably going over files just like me.”

“Yeah, that, and that you have better coffee than us,” he said, as you stepped off the main road and in the direction of the trees. You didn’t take Spencer for an ‘outdoorsy’ kinda guy either, in fact, you knew he wasn’t unless things had drastically changed in six years, but you kept your mouth shut. Mainly because you were outdoorsy, and you knew he was trying to make things fun for you. Once you got to a certain point, Spencer stopped and turned to face you. “Close your eyes.” You opened your mouth to protest the ‘surprise’ thing again, but he cut you off before you had the chance. “Trust me, okay?”

Without another word, you closed your eyes with a sigh. He led you slowly through the trees, fingers laced through yours, narrating the landscape to make sure you wouldn’t trip or lose your footing.

“Almost there,” he said, taking a few more paces forward before coming to a complete stop. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

When you did, you were blinded by the beauty before you. There was a half circle of rock surrounding you with a waterfall coming from the opposite side. It hit the sugar-white sand below it, trailing into the small aqua pond, which opened up to the beach from between rocks and palm trees. On top of that, there was a warm sunset turing the wispy clouds shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. It was straight out of a movie, or a dream, and you honestly couldn’t believe it was real.

“What do you think?” Spencer asked in a small voice from beside you, and you realized you hadn’t done anything except gasp since you saw it.

“Spence, this is - this is incredible. You really outdid yourself,” you said, and he had. It was breathtaking. “How’d you find this place?”

“It’s a small town secret, I guess. We found it when we were here.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you found a body here or something,” you grimaced.

“No! Definitely not!” Spencer clarified, “I just remembered you always mentioning wanting to go to a nice, small, secluded beach. This isn’t exactly a beach, but it is very close to one and definitely secluded.” You relaxed even more with that information, and Spencer led you over to the edge of the water, hand still enveloped in yours.

Don’t get carried away. Remember, this is just for his benefit. You released his hand, giving him a small smile, and walked over to the waterfall. He followed, and looked up at it with the same awed look you did. “You know, to qualify as a waterfall, only one segment of the falls must be at least five feet high. Most generally accepted waterfalls must be located on a river, creek, or stream that provides a source of water at least annually. This one is on the shorter side of average height at about 25 feet, and comes off of a stream from above. The largest waterfall in the world is Angel Falls with a total height of 3,212 feet, but plunge falls are known to have taller average heights. This one here is a punchbowl waterfall, because it descends into a constricted form, and then spreads out in a wider pool. Usually-” he suddenly cut himself off, looking down. “Uh, sorry.”

You snapped your eyes over to him, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?”

“What?”

You repeated yourself, enunciating each word carefully, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?” Spencer looked up at you, but with no answer. “We initially connected because you could answer every single question I had for you, no matter the subject, whether I needed help with it or not. We finally got to the point where I didn’t even have to ask anymore, because all you had to do was look at my face and know that I needed answers, answers you always had. There’s no need to apologize. You know I enjoy your facts,” you emphasized.

He smiled at you and rambled on about his waterfall facts, finishing with, “... and today, many people enjoy going swimming near or around waterfalls. Especially the punchbowl kind.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Is that an invitation Spencer Reid?”

“It could be if you wanted it to be,” he agreed sheepishly.

“Well, then what are we waiting for,” you teased. You marched over to a dry, flat rock and stripped off your work clothes, only keeping your underwear on. You then waded out into the water, all the while Spencer just watching you, seemingly paralyzed. You encouraged, “Spence, get out here!”

He started to make a move in the same direction you’d left your stuff, saying, “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” He tried to add some enthusiasm to his voice, but you knew he really wasn’t a fan of the water. Or the sand for that matter. Or interacting with nature as much as swimming required. But nevertheless, he discarded his clothes and padded toward the little ‘punchbowl’ as he just educated you on.

And then a thought popped into your head, “Spencer, have you ever been to the beach before? Like, have you gone swimming at the beach?”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he shook his head just a little. “It just usually seems … unsanitary. You know, the average number of people who visit the beach each year is around 58.67 million.”

“Yes, I’m sure, but unfortunately you are not one of them. Yet. Look, I know you kinda hate the water and the beach and stuff, but don’t worry, I am here to help,” you assured. You wadded toward him where the water was only about shin-high and held out your hand. “Do you remember a long time ago when you first told me you’d never been to the beach?”

He nodded. “It was close to one of the first things you asked me.”

“It was. And you told me you hadn’t. And do you remember what I told you?”

“You said, ‘I am determined to be the first person you go to the beach with. I promise I will make your beach-going experience great, and I have a strong feeling you will start to enjoy it.’”

“Exactly. So, are you ready?” you asked.

“For what?” Instead of answering, you slowly coaxed him further into the water. He shivered a bit as the cool water surrounded his hips.

“Don’t worry. You’re body will adjust,” you smiled, even though he probably already had plenty of stats on that, too. He paused for just a second as you got deeper into the water, which caused you to turn and face him completely. He heaved a breath, but then continued, you taking both of his hands in yours, walking backward farther into the water until it was up to your neck. The water pooled around Spencer's shoulders, and you said contently, “See? It’s not too bad, is it?”

“I guess not. Not when you’re here to help me,” he smiled.

You tried to shake off the feelings coursing through your veins, composed yourself, and replied, “Good.” Then, without warning, you dove out into the middle of the water. When you came to the surface, you shook your hair out and had to laugh at the way Spencer was staring at you.

You didn’t even have to prompt him in order for him to understand the playful look in your eyes. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I am not that person.”

You smirked at him, “You are now, Mathlete.”

He rolled his eyes at your old nickname for him, but he pushed farther out into the water. He came all the way out to you, at least somewhat knowing how to tread water, when you brought your wet hands up to his hair. With little droplets of water running down the side of his neck and jaw and your hands still in his hair, he went completely under water. Once he was under, his hands were at your thighs, and a whole new set of feelings clouded into your head. When he came back up, he was only inches from your face, your hands behind his head and his on your back. And then your lips were on each other’s, moving with a mind of their own. He pulled you closer and you clung to him like he was the only thing preventing you from drowning. His tongue slid into your mouth, moving in expert ways only he could remember how to do after this long. You started to wrap your legs around his middle, when you realized you’d probably sink together out in the middle of the pool, thanks to you swimming all the way out there. You finally parted with a big intake of breath, separating slightly so you could both stay afloat.

Before he could say anything, you flipped some water up into his face. He shut his eyes with little amusement, and his pout made him look even cuter. When he opened them, the orange sun near setting reflected into his eyes, making them glow a brilliant gold. He was stunning. Everything about this was stunning.

“What was that for?” he asked, and you snapped out your trance-like state to remember that you’d splashed him with water.

You did it again with a chuckle for an answer. Then he caught on. He pushed water in your direction, and you back to him. You were both shoving water at each other and laughing at your full on water fight, and then you got out and started running from the waterfall and toward the beach only a few yards away. He came after you and grabbed you from behind. You’re not sure how it happened, but you both ended up on the white sand with a shriek. You laid there with your back against his chest, eyes stinging from the salt water and breathing deeply. You both had sand all over you, but you didn’t want to move. And clearly, neither did he, because you both laid there until the sun went down.

Goosebumps rose along your body as Spencer trailed his hands down your arms and side and back again.

“We should get dried off,” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s getting cold. But we don’t have any towels.”

“They’re in the car.” You smiled to yourself and got up off the beach, trailing Spencer back to the car, clothes in hand.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

On the car ride back to the city, you told Spencer all the other cool beach things you would have wanted to introduce him to, like reading in the sun, drinking and eating under a cabana, and getting these mangos on a stick you could only seem to find in Mexico.

He grinned at you the whole way.

He parked the car outside of his hotel, and offered to let you shower off before leaving. You couldn’t really go home to Jordan with a bunch of sand on you, so you accepted. You got in first and he got in after.

By the time he was done, you were fully dried with your clothes back on. He came out with only a towel wrapped around him. You guessed he really was trying everything to keep you here. The tension was palpable and you didn’t really know what to say to him.

Thanks for the amazing date, I had so much fun, okay bye? You were great and you are making it so hard to walk away right now but I’m going to, thanks anyways? You couldn’t say any of those, but luckily, he stepped in for you.

“I know,” he said with a nod.

“Spencer, I-”

“I know,” he repeated. His eyes were sad and his shoulders were slumped in defeat. It pained you to see him like this, especially after everything he’d done for you that evening, and how happy he’d been the whole time. “It’s okay, I get it. Jordan.”

Jordan. “Yeah,” it was barely a whisper. You walked toward the door and reached for the handle. And then you froze. You just froze in place, not being able to go any further.

Then, without thinking, you turned around and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his. He seemed thrown by this, but only for a few moments, because he quickly melted into the kiss. You didn’t let it last long, pulling away without another look at him. He grabbed your hand and spun you around, giving you no choice but to raise your eyes to meet his. They looked a little red and a single tear ran down his cheek.

“Please. Don’t leave me, not again,” he begged. You were in agony even thinking about leaving him like this, but what else were you supposed to do? “Please don’t go (y/n).”

You didn’t know how to say no when he was at his lowest point and you were at your weakest. That’s not true. You did know how to say no, but not to him. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to. “I won’t.”

It was already too late by the time you realized you had fallen back in love with him.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You woke up on Spencer’s chest, sheets a tangled mess around you. The daylight hit your eyes through the crack in the hotel curtains, and you realized what you’d just done.

I slept with another man. A man that is not my fiance, a man that I am not going to marry in a couple weeks. What have I done? What was I thinking?

But that’s the issue. You weren’t thinking. Being with Spencer didn’t require any thinking or effort or worry. It was easy. Yet nothing about waking up that morning with the guilt you felt was easy. You couldn’t stay there with Spencer for another moment knowing that you had to be the worst person on the planet at the moment. You threw your clothes on, trying to control your panicked breathing, swiping at the moisture collecting on your cheeks.

What was I thinking?

You scrambled to the door, making sure you had all of your belongings, and left. You made your way down the corridor to the sign that said ‘stairs’ across from a little sitting area near a large window.

You had barely gotten the door open when a voice called out, “Where are you going?”

You turned and saw Spencer frantically coming towards you. The noise you made in your rush to leave must have woken him up. “One more night, right? That was the deal,” you stated coldly.

“That's not really all this was to you, was it?” he asked, his eyes looked at you with a mix of emotions you could only guess to be betrayal and hurt.

But you stood your ground, “This is wrong.”

He started shaking his head, “No-”

“I have to go,” you insisted, turning back to the door.

“It’s not wrong (y/n). You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that what we have doesn’t feel right to you,” he pressed. There was an urgency in his voice you’d never really heard before.

“Jordan’s probably waiting for me.”

“Is he?”

How dare he question my fiance he knows nothing about! “Yes,” you spat, “because he’s an amazing man that I am going to marry, so I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

“That’s not really what you’re thinking is it,” he hissed back, stating it more than asking. You stood there staring at him, not giving him an answer. You knew you couldn’t lie to him. Profiler or not, he always knew what you were thinking. He continued, “Actually, I don’t even think you think this is wrong.”

“Yes I do. It’s not fair-” you tried.

“Who’re you trying to convince?” Spencer cut you off.

You laced your voice with venom when you responded, “Don’t presume to know me or what I think.”

“Oh I’m not. You’re telling me that all by yourself,” he said as he quickly scanned you up and down.

“Don’t profile me.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I was merely trying to point out how, while even though you are trying to leave, you are oriented toward me. Your feet are still pointed towards me, along with your shoulders. If you really wanted to leave, you’d be facing the door. Your head is tilted slightly, you’re leaning forward, and despite your irritation, you aren’t fidgety. You’ve subconsciously mirrored some of my movements, fixed your hair, adjusted the sleeves on your shirt, and wetted your lips. Not to mention the dilation of your eyes-”

You couldn’t take it anymore, “Why, why are you pushing this?” It sounded more like a plea than anything.

His eyes softened along with his voice, “Because I want you. I want to be with you, and I can’t let you slip through my fingers like last time. I am not going to make the same mistakes and I am not going to let my insecurities and uncertainties get in the way of us again.”

“Us?” your eyes bugging, “Spencer, there is no us.”

“How can you say that?” his voice seemed to raise an entire octave.

“Because there can’t be. I’m getting married in just over a week and I haven’t seen you in years, and then all the sudden you wanna give us another try? It didn’t work out the first time, what makes you think it will the second time?” you pressed.

“What makes you think it won't?”

“Don’t turn this on me.” You didn’t want him to avoid the question. It was a valid one, and one you’d always thought about when you heard of other on-and-off couples.

“We dated for about six years and never had any problems until I fucked it up. Had I stayed in contact, we’d probably still be together right now. Your turn,” he challenged, with fire in his eyes.

Fine. We can do it like this. “For starters, we are both stubborn and like to argue. We’ve seen and spent time together for a total of one day and two nights and we’ve already argued twice. Not to mention, we both have super time consuming jobs-”

“Which both you and Jordan do,” he interjected.

“-and we’ve both changed. We don’t know if we’re compatible anymore. Yes, we dated for six years, but then we spent six years apart. You can’t ask me to throw away a sure thing for a relationship I lost hope in a long time ago.”

“I can, and I am.” He said it with such confidence, it almost threw you off. Almost.

“It’s too late.”

“It’s not, please, don’t go. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t let your insecurities and uncertainties about us get in the way of what we have,” he faltered.

“And what is it we have exactly?” It was his turn to be silent, so you filled in for him. “With Jordan, I have no doubts. There is nothing complicated about him or what he and I have.”

“But do you love him like you loved me? Does he make you laugh after a long day at work? Does he go dancing with you even though he’s bad at it because he knows you love it? Does he know when to just sit there and hold you and when to encourage you to vent? Does he know that you are a morning person and love watching the sun rise even though you refuse to talk to anyone when you’ve just woken up? Does he burn the pancakes in the morning so that you can laugh and show him how it’s done? Does he know that after a bad day you like to eat breakfast for dinner because it’s your comfort food? And even though you’d never admit it, you secretly love those fake colored orchids? Does he make sure you rest when you overwork yourself so you don’t get a migraine? Does he know that you aren’t ticklish anywhere except on your left side? And can you tell him any and everything? Does he know that the only thing you hate more than stress is injustice? Can he make you feel as comfortable and stress free as I do? Can he give you that? Because I can, I know I can.”

“Spencer, stop.” You crossed your arms, desperate for him to relieve you from the guilt you already felt. How could you walk away from him? But how could you not?

But he wouldn’t stop, “I have. And I’m asking for another chance to give you that again, to show you that I will for as long as you let me.”

You offered one simple word in response, “Love.”

“What?” the confusion was obvious on his face.

“You said ‘like you loved me’. Love, Spencer. It’s not past tense,” you corrected.

That stopped him dead in his tracks, “What’re you saying?”

You took a deep breath, “I’m saying that you have given me a lot to think about, and that I need time. I know I don’t have much, but I need tonight, at least tonight. Can you give me that?”

“Yes,” he said, with no hesitation, “Of course.” You nodded, and turned back toward the staircase door as Spencer retreated, but he caught your attention one last time before you were out of earshot. “Oh, and (y/n)?”

“Yeah?” you said, peering over your shoulder.

“I love you too.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You spent that night and the entire day following away from everyone. Jordan texted you to make sure you were okay, making a joke about getting cold feet. Which was not funny. You told him that you’d been slammed at work and were crashing at a co-worker, and close friend's apartment, which happened often. You two were looking over a case together, which was true, but in reality, you were sulking and they were very invested in your love life.

“‘But do you love him like you loved me?’ That’s very forward of him,” Ash spoke, taking a sip of their tea.

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you reminded them.

“But like, you said you love him,” Ash beamed. “Then again, you have Jordan to think about, too.”

“Okay, first, I’m concerned that you are taking so much pleasure in my very complicated love life-”

“If by complicated you mean having two great guys pining over you, then sure. Extremely unfortunate,” Ash deadpanned.

You continued as if they hadn’t spoke, “-secondly, I didn’t exactly say I love you-”

“Still counts.”

“-and third, what am I supposed to do? I have a ring on my finger and I just slept with another man.”

“Another man that was your first love that you also said ‘I love you’ to,” Ash again pointed out.

“Please stop reminding me,” you groaned.

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I am freaking out and don’t know what to do! I can’t pretend like what happened with Spencer never happened, but I don’t think I can face Jordan, or tell him what happened, let alone marry him after all of this,” you exclaimed, voice raising.

“Okay, I know this is stressful, but I need you to sit down, and calm down,” Ash sterly said, dropping all amusement from their voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d stood up. You eased yourself back onto the couch, and looked over at them.

You took a deep breath, “You’re right. Freaking out is not going to help me. Not like I know what actually will.”

“Well let me ask you this,” Ash said, sitting upright, “Was he right?”

“What?”

“Was Spencer right? Does he give you things Jordan can’t? Does he make you feel more ‘at peace’ or however the hell he phrased it?” You opened your mouth to answer, but they cut you off right as you were about to speak, “And don’t lie. This is me trying to help you through your feelings, and telling me what you think is socially acceptable to say is not going to help anyone. Especially not you.”

“In a sense,” you relented.

“Okay, I guess I wasn’t clear. These are yes or no questions,” they clarified.

“How can they be? Relationships are not black and white, there is so much more to them!” you huffed.

“That’s true. But what is black and white is who you love more.” You started shaking your head profusely in denial. “I’m serious (y/n). You know you love one more than you love the other. You know who you feel more comfortable and more safe around. You know who you feel like you can trust with anything without being judged. And most importantly, you know who you feel the most like yourself around, and who makes you feel like the best and brightest version of yourself. You just aren’t ready to admit that, because either way, you’re hurt and they’re hurt. But don’t lie to yourself. You know,” Ash insisted.

“Ash, I can’t,” you whispered.

“You can, you will, and you have to. Just remember it’s not fair to either of them for you to string them along. It’s better to tell them. You have to just go for it,” they urged.

You groaned. “What do I even say? How am I supposed to do this?”

“Well, you are going to pull on your grown ass adult undies, and figure it out,” Ash spoke to you like you were a child, “Now get the fuck outta my place, you’ve been here far too long and have overstayed your welcome. And don’t you dare lie to them either because you think it’s the right thing to do. For once in your goddamn life (y/l/n), do the right thing for you.” And with that, they shoved you out of their apartment with your things, and locked the door in your face.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You got in your car and threw your things in the back. You sat there for a moment before screaming at the top of your lungs. You pounded on and shook the steering wheel, until you’d run out of breath.

Being in love with two men who loved you back at the exact same time was nothing like it was portrayed in the movies. It absolutely sucked. You couldn’t see how there was any possible way that the people in those movies ended up with a happy, fairy-tale ending, because all you could see right now was broken hearts. You were going to be hurting either way, but the real question was which way you were going to hurt the least.

Which is the exact thought on your mind as you pulled your car out of the apartment complex parking lot, and started driving.

For once in your goddamn life, do the right thing for you.

You were already halfway to your destination before you’d consciously made the decision to go there. You pulled up and parked your car outside. You walked up the stairs to the door and then stopped. Knocking on this door meant committing to a decision that would alter the rest of your life. You bit back the tears threatening to overflow, sure that you had made the right decision, even though it physically pained you to hurt him. You took a deep breath, put a smile on your face, and knocked.

The door swung open as if he’d been expecting you. You quickly embraced him, taking in his scent and basking in the comfort of his arms. Pulling away, you looked into those twinkling eyes staring back at you with adoration, which only confirmed that you’d made the right decision.

With a pounding heart and a weight lifted off your shoulders, you confessed, “I choose you.”

Payphone

A/N 2: To the lovely anon that encouraged me to do a part 2, I hope this lived up to your expectations. I know I didn’t completely clear everything up, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. =D

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Grey Eyes (2)

This is the second part of a response to a prompt I received:

@camryn-bria I have a Linzin headcanon that there is a secret (airbending) child.  Could you write a one-shot of Tenzin finding out Lin is pregnant after breaking up with her.

Lin/Tenzin pre-canon fanfic | 2 of 2

1 of 2 here.

Legend of Korra

---

“Tenzin! What are you doing here?” Lin hissed, tugging at his robes and pushing him away once she regained her balance. 

“Someone might see you. I could get fired. Let’s go.” Lin was already rummaging through Jinora’s baby bag. “Why are you here? Did someone follow you?” She tossed a baby towel to the airbender. “Here, use this. Tie it on your head to hide your arrow. You can’t be recognized here.” She was thankful that the bar was empty that early.

She gathered the folders and chucked it in a file cabinet, locking it then picking up the baby bag.

Securing her daughter in her sling, ignoring her seemingly questioning grey eyes (so much like her father's), Lin quickly grasped Tenzin’s wrist and then pulled him to the street.

She had so many questions about the sudden appearance of the airbender.

But first, she needed to get him out of there.

 ---

Tenzin followed her dutifully as she weaved in and out of the side streets with the expert knowledge of a local. He could not ignore the tingle where her hand held his wrist as she pulled him along.

Before long, they were at an apartment unit.

Lin breathed a sigh of relief only after she had locked the door behind them.

She put up a hand, halting any word that he might say.

"Let's talk later." The baby wiggled in her sling. "But first, Jinora needs to eat."

Tenzin was left to observe and shift around the room while Lin assisted a babbling Jinora onto a high chair. He followed her, trying to find signs in the home that would indicate that another person (that Water Tribe man) lived with them as well.

Lin opened the baby bag and pulled out two containers. She showed them to Jinora, who clapped her hands.

“Na-na-nanana-na!”

Lin chuckled and opened one, revealing the sliced fruit. “Banana it is.” She placed the fruits in front of her daughter.

Jinora happily reached out to grasp one and put it in her mouth while another hand proceeded to turn another piece into mush.

Tenzin was enthralled in watching the child enjoy her fruit that he almost missed the earthbender’s question.

“What are you doing here?”

“So, this is where you’ve been all this time.” He cleared his throat, making an obvious look around the room, biding time.

“Damn it Tenzin,” Lin lowered her voice, tension obvious. “If you had arrived at the wrong time, you could have blown my cover.”

“You’re working?” Was his startled response.

“Yes, it’s classified information. Everything’s on a need to know basis.” She rolled her eyes at him even as she gently wiped off her daughter’s face with a wet cloth.  “So, if you don’t know, then you didn’t need to know. Though I expect the chief will be sharing the findings any day now. I’ve sent my final report two months ago.”

“Why are you still here if you’ve wrapped it up two months ago?” Like the airbender that he is, Tenzin was still avoiding asking about the elephant in the room.

“I filed for vacation time, I deserve it, don’t I?” He received a scowl in return.

The airbender nodded but added. “When are you going back to Republic City?” He was already thinking of how he would be renovating part of Air Temple Island – to make it child-friendly for Jinora and to clean up the space that Lin used to stay at the main house.

“Not sure really,” Lin turned to Jinora, who was waving her arms over head, a signal that she was done with her food. “I’m not even sure if I’ll go back there.”

“Wait, what?” He thought he heard her wrong. “What do you mean you’re not sure –but in Republic City, you, the police force, your – your life?” He stammered, trying to make sense of things. He had been so focused on finding her that he did not even think that maybe she did not want to be found. Or that she would not go back to Republic City at all.

“What life? I can easily request for a transfer to the Earth Kingdom for work and Mom can visit Jinora and me,” The metalbender before him focused on wiping off the banana mush from her daughter’s face and hands. “Hopefully, I’ve satisfied your curiosity, Councilman. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you.” It was all he could say amidst the multitude of thoughts and emotions going through him.

“You’ve found me.” Lin crossed her arms as she leaned on the dining table. “You may go now.” She gestured towards the door.

“If you think I'm leaving without you or our daughter -then you're very much mistaken.” Tenzin pulled himself up to his full height. He had missed months of his daughter's life and he was not about to lose any more.

Lin appeared to taken aback. “My daughter,” She bit out with conviction. She noticed Tenzin motion to contradict her. “You're not her father.”

“Lin, you can't be serious!” Tenzin raised his voice indignantly. “You can't deny that your airbending daughter is mine as well.”

“Well actually, they've been speculating around here whose reject I am,” Lin snorted. “That councilman in Republic City or that military man in the United Forces.” She waved a hand between them. “You may have donated genes but you are not her father. You've made that choice.”

“When have I? I only learned about her a few minutes ago!” He felt his blood freeze. “Is there someone else?”

“Funny how your mind draws that conclusion immediately.  I should ask you the same -wouldn’t your wife or partner wonder about the appearance of your illegitimate child?”

“What are you talking about - I'm not married! I'm not even in a relationship.”

“Oh I'm sure.” Lin scoffed.

Tenzin could feel his frustration about to boil over. “I'm telling you the truth!”

“And I'm telling you the truth as well -when you decided to disregard my daughter is the moment you’ve lost every right to be her father.”

Said daughter called for their attention at this point, pounding her arms on the table, probably feeling the tension between the adults. “Ma-mama-ma!”

“Yes sweetie?” Lin plucked her out of the high chair as Jinora raised her arms, letting her know she wanted to be carried.

The child pushed herself to her mother's chest.

“You want milk?” Her mother asked gently, cradling the child and then sitting down.

She raised an eyebrow at the airbender who was watching the interaction intently.

Oh, right.

Tenzin turned away, allowing Lin some privacy, realizing belatedly that the previous intimacy they used to share was no more.

“You can turn around now.”

Lin was now suckling Jinora, who was under a baby blanket.

He had to tear away his gaze from them.

“I never rejected Jinora.” Tenzin choked out.

“Oh really? Are you calling me a liar? That I just dreamt up your letter?”

“What letter?”

Lin gingerly stood up, taking good care to secure her daughter in her position, and went to the side table in the living room. Finding herself unable to bend down, she sat on the couch and instructed Tenzin to get the letter in the drawer.

Tenzin riffled a bit until he came upon his handwriting. He felt a coldness run down his spine as he read the words.

“Now - are you saying you didn't write that?” Lin looked at Tenzin intently even as their daughter was cradled to her chest.

“I-I-I did.” The airbender stammered. He recognized it as one of the many generic letters he had his secretary send out more than a year ago. It would seem like Lin's letter got mixed in the mail.

“Well - I don't think your life partner would be delighted to find out that you sired an airbender with your ex.” The earthbender sardonically commented.

He did not know whether to laugh or cry at the misunderstanding.  Before the silence could even stretch out, he opted for the unvarnished truth.

“There's no way to explain this without looking like the bad guy,” (“You think?”) Tenzin scratched the back of his head, shame and embarrassment overcoming him. “This is…a generic letter that I had sent out...To multiple people.”

Lin did not even have to say anything regarding what she thought of that; her face said it all.

Her eyes narrowed at him. Tenzin suppressed the urge to look away.

Lin sighed. “As idiotic the idea sounds – I believe you. Only you would have come up with such an idiotic idea just so you can run away from conflict.”

Tenzin released a breath.

“Well now, you know about Jinora and we're doing fine here and we don't lack for anything.” The metalbender ignored the shocked expression on the airbender’s face as she continued matter-of-factly. “When she's older, she will be given a choice when and if she wants to meet you. Though, we’ll definitely seek your guidance for airbending training – when she's of the right age of course. I want her to have a good childhood.”

Tenzin knew what she was talking about – their childhood was anything but normal. “You seem to have given this some thought.”

“Of course,” Lin looked down to peer down at the baby. “Once Jinora exhibited signs of airbending, I knew I needed to be prepared…”

A small fist came up from underneath the blanket. Again, Tenzin saw the smile creep up on Lin’s face, an expression so unusual in the last months of their relationship. What he’d do to get her to smile like that more often...

He did not realize it, but he had reached out a hand towards the mother and child – until the little fist had grasped his pinky finger. A rush of warmth bloomed in his chest: this was the first touch of his daughter.

“Come back with me to Republic City.” The words were out before he could screen them.

A shuttered look came over Lin’s face.

“No, I can’t,” Was the quiet reply. “I shouldn’t.” Lin wetted her lips before continuing. “It’s not that simple. It’s no longer just you and I, Tenzin – that relationship has long gone. We have Jinora to think about and I would do anything to protect her.” She met his eyes. “I want what is best for her.”

And it isn’t you – the subtext was heard by the airbender loud and clear.

“I know I’ve just known about her today and you don’t trust me yet,” Tenzin moved back though loathe to be parted from his family. “But I swear on my life, I’ll make it up to you.”

And Agni knows he will make good on this promise.

But first, he had to make arrangements.

 ---

An hour or so later, Tenzin was back at the street where Lin lived.

After buying a hat (he was not about to wear the baby towel on his head the entire day), the airbender had secured a phone call to Republic City, effectively filing for a leave of absence at city hall and informing his mother that he would be away for an indefinite amount of time.

He managed to pick up some items and food to bring to Lin and Jinora, a peace offering of sorts.

He knew he had an uphill battle in terms of convincing Lin to trust him once again.

The airbender clung to the fact that she named their daughter Jinora and hoped that it had to mean something at least.

As he turned the corner, he saw Lin’s door open and out came the Water Tribe man from earlier and another man with kali sticks poking from a knapsack.

He hurried forward but the pair had already left when he reached the door.

Tenzin knocked.

He heard Lin’s voice from behind the door as she opened it.

“Noatak, don’t tell me you forgot something again, I swear I -.” Lin frowned seeing him. “Ah it's you.”

“Don't look so surprised, I did say I was coming back.”

“I've learned not put much stock on your word.”

Well, that hurt.

Nonetheless, Lin moved aside so he could enter.

“I brought food.” He halted seeing that there were take out bags on the table.

“You didn't have to. The boys dropped by with some food from the bar before they headed home.”

“That can't be healthy.” He imagined bar chow to be greasy and fatty.

“Don't pass judgment until you've seen it.” She sat down back at the table.

He took off his hat.

There were some folders and paperwork on the table. He saw that one was a menu in Lin's meticulous handwriting. His heart sank. He was sure he had pretty much insulted Lin earlier.

“I help in menu planning, in coming up with the weekly specials.” She said by way of answering his questioning look, then she went back to the paperwork she appeared to be working on before he arrived.

Tenzin was left ignored, standing and unsure what to do.

Jinora was playing with some toys on a mat in the living room, still well within Lin’s view.

He proceeded to unpack all the food on the table instead and was pleasantly surprised to note that…

“Are these vegetarian?”

He was in awe.

Lin did not go vegetarian when they were together.

“I figured to give Jinora a headstart,” The metalbender did not even look from the paper she was perusing. “Though when she is old enough she can make the decision whether or not she wants to push through with it. But I thought that she would at least have that option.” She scribbled a note at the corner of the sheet. “And unfortunately for me, for now ar least, I'll have to abide by that diet until she has been weaned off.”

She might not look it but Lin Beifong did respect the Air Nomad culture a lot.

 ---

“She’s asleep.”

Tenzin closed the door gently after he had placed his sleeping daughter in her crib in Lin’s bedroom.

After dinner, he spent time getting acquainted with Jinora while Lin caught up with her work.

Lin made a nondescript sound but finally looked up at him. “Thanka for putting her in bed.”

He nodded. What else could he say? I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to put her to bed for the past eight months? “I better go ahead.”

“Where’s Oogi?”

The sudden change in topic took him by surprise.

“In Republic City.” He moved to gather his things.

Lin cleared the table to tidy up her work things. “The last trip of the train going out of the Earth Kingdom has left by now.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “where are you staying?”

“Uh,” Tenzin struggled to answer.

Lin placed her hands on her hips, a sign of her impatience.

“I’m still going to have a look around what inns or hotels are available tonight.”

“What!” The earthbender pinched her nose bridge in obvious exasperation. “Tenzin – you can’t do that here. You’ll get charged triple for that stunt, maybe quadruple when they see your arrows. Do you have enough money on your person for the down payment?”

The sheepish expression on the councilman’s face told her everything.

She looked up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths

Tenzin knew she was counting to five to refrain from scolding him.

Lin went back to her room and was shortly back in the living room. She tossed him two blankets and a pillow.

“If your sensitive back can manage it, you might be safer and better off on the couch rather than wandering in town searching for rooms and calling the attention of all muggers around.”

And that was how Tenzin found himself curled on the couch of Lin Beifong in the Earth Kingdom.

 ---

Lin fidgeted as she felt the sun on her face. She blinked away sleep as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight that was peeking through her curtain.

It was well past sunrise.

She bolted from her bed, panicking. It was not like Jinora to sleep through the night.

The crib was empty.

Not even grabbing her robe, she hastily opened her bedroom door.

As she made her way to the kitchen, she heard laughter and a baby babbling and squealing happily.

“Ah, sleeping beauty has woken up!”

It was surreaL; she felt her new and old life colliding.

Noatak and his kali-stick yielding boyfriend were seated in her tiny dining area while Jinora was happily squeezing her oranges and giving out delighted squeals whenever she bit into a sour segment. Tenzin was over at the stove, looking ridiculously at her home with her apron tied at his waist.

She sat down, dumbfounded.

Tenzin immediately moved to prepare her coffee. She took a sip.

It was just the way she liked it.

“Oh Lin.” The Water Tribe man pouted at her. “Why couldn't you have slept with the military cloudchild? You cost me several yuans.” The bar personnel have been betting on the paternity of Jinora ever since she started airbending.

“Is that you worry about?” Lin grumbled, inhaling the aroma of the coffee in her mug.

“Oh no,” Noatak waved a hand nonchalantly and waggled his eyebrows. “You know I worry about everyone you sleep with.”

Clang!

They all turned to Tenzin near the stove.

“Sorry, pan slipped from my grip." The airbender explained tightly.

Noatak’s boyfriend shared why they were around. “We were just dropping by to see if you have the menu ready for the week,” At this, Lin stretched behind her to pull out the folder from a drawer to hand over to him at this. “When Mr Airbender here invited us in for a bite of breakfast.”

“Hope you didn’t mind.” Tenzin seated himself beside her after placing down a platter of omelet on the table. “It would be great to meet your friends.”

There was a challenge to his tone that she did not care for.

“Of course,” She turned to the pair across them. “You know you're always welcome.”

“Yeah well,” The other man obliviously continued as he took a bite of toast. “After all that happened between you guys – how can you not make him welcome?” He pointed to Lin and Noatak.

Whether Lin liked it or not, she was still very much attuned to Tenzin’s emotions, being with him for years made her sensitive. He was now restraining himself from making an outburst; she could see a furious blush creeping up his neck.

“Please,” Noatak flicked off crumbs from his top. “Seeing her almost dead is not something I would wish on anyone.”

Lin felt Tenzin shoot her a look.

“You exaggerate,” She busied herself with spooning some egg and trying to get Jinora to eat it. “I wasn’t at the brink of death.”

“Oh no-no-no, I don’t think he was exaggerating – how did you say it went, Noatak? All that blood…” The mustached man nudged the Water Tribe man beside him. “If you hadn’t been there, these two lovely ladies might not have made it.”

Tension radiated from the airbender as he held himself taut, not saying a word but intently looking at his tea.

“Enough of that, it's too early in the day for these discussions.” Lin placidly stated, keen to change the topic.

“I think that's our cue to leave.” The two men gulped the last of their tea.

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“We’ll send ol’ lady Jin your regards. The old barkeep wouldn’t care much as long as the food got sold.” Noatak grabbed the folder that Lin put out then turned to Tenzin who had gotten up as well. “Master Tenzin, a pleasure to meet you.”

“I assure you pleasure is all mine.”

 ---

“What are you playing at?”

“Nothing at all, dear.” Tenzin proceeded to tear a piece of toast for their daughter.

“Don’t call me dear.”

A pause.

Lin could see his knuckles turning white.

“What did he mean you almost bled to death?”

“But I didn't!”

“That's not the point.”

 ---

The next day, at the bar, the Water Tribe man was surprised to receive a gift basket filled with Water Tribe-originated items and food.

Thank you.

-Lin and Tenzin

“That doesn’t make sense.” One of the other bar staff commented. “What did you do anyway?”

Noatak barked a laugh. “This is a rather passive aggressive exhibit. Well played, Mr Airbender, well played.”

“You mean, he didn’t understand that you and…?”

“Nope.”

 ---

“How did you ever handle all of these all these months?” Tenzin wondered as he struggled to help Lin with the chores before she went out for her shift at the bookstore.

“I managed.” Alone.

He watched her secure Jinora in a baby sling. “How did you get to be so proficient at that?”

“Your mother.”

“My mother?”

“Surely you didn't think you were raised by acolytes?”

“No…”

“And surely you didn’t think your mother left nation building to your father?” Lin was about to carry the baby bag but Tenzin offered to take it instead. “She regularly held self-defense classes for women (both benders and non-benders alike) who might be interested, and she oversaw the building and training of the hospital in Republic City.”

She snapped her fingers and locked the door. Without waiting for Tenzin, she headed towards the direction of the town square.

He realized with a pang that he had taken his mother for granted.

When he gets back to Republic City, he'll give her a long warm hug and maybe send her off to one of the best spas that city has to offer.

…and maybe have her drag Toph Beifong with her while she’s at it.

 ---

He insisted joining her in one of her shifts at the bar before opening, when the crew was gathered to have a meal before service began.

She told him he did not have to, and to stop being an annoying gnat-fly that hovered around her.

To her surprise, he fell into easy conversation with the rest of the people she worked with.

Lin found herself quietly observing Tenzin, baby Jinora on the sling he wore, as he listened to one of the bartenders relate a story about some of last night’s patrons.

“So, I take it he will be whisking you away?”

It was old Jin, the owner of the bar.

“No, he won't.” Lin refuted the assumption.

“Famous last words, honey!” Jin cackled, as though in on a secret.

Boisterous laughter erupted from the other side of the room.

“What’s stopping you from leaving with him?” Lin did not answer and so the older lady continued. “He's absolutely smitten by your daughter. I thought you said that’s what you’ve been looking for?”

“Jin, he has someone back in Republic City.”

His life partner.

“You’re afraid that he’ll take her away from you, then? Is he that type of father?”

The thing was – Lin wasn’t sure and she didn’t know. She was scared to find out.

 ---

It had been quite some time since he left Republic City.

He took a leap of faith and for the mean time turned his back from his responsibilities in the city.

There were more important things now.

He did not know his mother smiled as she read his letter.

 ---

Jinora flourished under her father's care.

She had always been an easy baby.

Lin was thankful that her daughter took after her paternal grandfather in terms of temperament. Stories about her childhood made Lin out to be a little monster. And there was her experience with Su -which she'd not wish on anyone else.

As much as she did not want to admit it, Tenzin easily adjusted to the role of being a father.

But would it be enough?

 If she were honest with herself –

No. Not really.

Looking at father and daughter playing in her cramped living room, she knew that both had been taken with each other. Tenzin would use his airbending to amuse their daughter and Jinora would giggle in response, imitating her father’s actions.

But it should be.

 ---

“Why are you still here?”

“I told you – I’m not leaving unless Jinora and you join me.”

 ---

The choice was taken off her hands when she received a letter with the seal of the Republic City Police Department.

“The Chief’s hurt.”

 ---

She spoke of her career and told them of her surname.

It was the least she could do, she told him. After all, this small community did accept her as their own.

Tenzin was amazed to see how the people did not seem to treat Lin any differently even after her revelation.

No one was currying favor or even batted an eyelash when they learned she was a Beifong.

“Yuan for your thoughts?”

It was the barkeep, Jin.

Tenzin kept an eye out as different people approached Lin at the bar’s small farewell party for her.

“It’s strange that nothing seems to have changed when she’s revealed herself to be a Beifong.” He glanced at the old lady. “Didn’t it matter that she’s a Beifong?”

“So she’s old money,” The old barkeep shrugged. “But she’s still Lin to us. She never lorded over us mere mortals.”

True, Lin looked more comfortable here in this crowd than she ever did on his arm attending galas in city hall.

“I think the better question is – does it matter to you that she’s a Beifong?”

No, it did not, he thought without even contemplation.

At the corner of his eye, he saw Noatak give Lin a tight hug and a quick kiss on Jinora’s forehead. His daughter’s grey eyes sparkling as she reveled in the attention.

The Earth Kingdom elder woman said it best – she’s still Lin to him.

(He did not see Noatak turn and give his boyfriend a peck on the lips.)

 ---

“Mom, take it easy!”

“Nah, this is not really a big deal.” Toph pointed her thumb at Katara. “Sugar Queen here still does an excellent job in healing me. This isn’t half as bad as how Sparky burned the soles of my feet back in the day.”

“Not a big deal – you’re now blind blind!”

Toph snorted. Lin always did worry a lot. So she had an encounter with a rogue firebender and had burned herself. Big whoop. “Now, gimme my granddaughter.” The older metalbender wiggled her hands forward and was given Jinora to hold, who promptly sneezed at her face, expelling a particularly strong burst of air. “Kid, you weren't kidding when you said she took after Aang.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Her daughter deadpanned as she moved away to assist Katara in arranging some of the furniture in her mother’s house to better help her mobility while recuperating.

The blind earthbender could feel Tenzin nearby, probably glaring at her.

“I can hear you breathing, Councilman.”

“I, for one, am proud of Jinora.” He huffed.

“Airchild or not, I would accept and love my grandchild.” She felt the child poke fingers into her mouth. “How about you? If she were not an airbender? What would you have done?”

Without skipping a heartbeat, he replied.

Toph seemed to have gotten the answer she wanted.

The blind metalbender smiled.

 ---

“Why are you still here?” Toph was surprised to feel another set of heartbeats at their breakfast table.

Lin rolled her eyes even if her mother can not see it. “Tenzin’s helping out with Jinora while I go to headquarters today. We haven’t established a babysitting schedule yet but maybe next week, she’ll stay with Katara. I can’t bring her to work anymore here, Mom.”

Lin excused herself, carrying Jinora for a bath before leaving her with Tenzin.

Toph turned to the airbender. “I was asking you – why are you still here?”

“F-for Jinora.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you are here night after night. Even when my daughter’s here to take care of Jinora.” The Chief of Police tilted her head. “You could easily stay at Air Temple Island and visit in the morning.”

She was no fool. Her daughter might be oblivious (or unwilling to face the facts) but the way the airbender always (always) finds a reason to be at the Beifong house after dark was suspicious.

There was a late council meeting and he happened to pass by.

He thought it would be nice to give Jinora some fresh papayas he bought from a stall on the way home.

Katara asked him to give Toph the pouch of loose-leaf tea.

There was paperwork from the council that needed Toph’s stamp.

He just missed his daughter and wanted to give her a hug before going home (now he just wasn’t trying anymore, was he? Toph shook her head).

The monsoon season has likewise come and Toph knew that this mean rainfall every night. This made any ferry ride or glider trips to the island unsafe.

Toph and Tenzin knew that Lin would swallow her pride rather than let anyone get into any risky situations.

And that was why, for the nth time, Toph Beifong woke up to the airbender at their breakfast table.

“You’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” She perceived him to be stretching his back even as the silence stretched between them as he was unable to answer her earlier question.

“I don’t mind sleeping on the couch, Chief Beifong.”

“That’s Aunt Toph to you.” There was a stunned silence now. “I think you know the answer to my question – make sure Lin does as well.”

 ---

The airbender knew he had to ramp it up.

Tenzin thought that he had been gaining inroads to Lin’s trust (Lin’s heart). Sure, she had been trusting him more in spending time with their daughter. Jinora was quickly growing up, starting her first few steps and (to her grandmother’s consternation) more frequently manifesting airbending.

Nonetheless, the woman herself seemed to keep him at a distance.

He found it odd, however, that in all the time that they have been back in Republic City, Noatak had not come to visit.

At most, he knew the man would send a letter or two every month. But not much else.

If he were in a relationship with Lin, Tenzin was sure to make sure that his presence is felt in her life.

He puzzled at this.

Unless this meant Lin and Noatak had broken up?

 ---

 “Move in with me.”

“No, I won’t, you idiot.”

 Even if she did think she wanted to.

She didn't want to wreck a relationship. He did explicitly write that he already has a life partner.

Even if she hadn’t seen her yet. She figured this elusive being is an Air Acolyte which was why she hadn’t seen her yet.

He did not refute the existence of life partner when he saw the letter months ago.

Lin did have the strength to set foot on Air Temple Island yet. She felt she needed to give Tenzin and his life partner some space.

She wasn’t a homewrecker. She never was and never will be. She would not want to go and drive a wedge in his relationship.

She knew what he was saying by offering to move in.

It was all about their daughter, about him wanting their daughter. His daughter.

Not her.

 “You think you won’t, but I swear Lin Beifong – I will convince you. I will prove myself to you and our daughter.”

Jinora.

Jinora will always be her priority; not her own needs and wants.

Even if Tenzin is who she wanted.

 ---

“Pa-papapapa!” The delight on Tenzin's face encouraged her. Jinora clapped her hands as she repeated to call her father.

Tears fell.

Lin bit her lip.

She did not want to admit it, but he was doing a good job of convincing her.

 ---

Lin found herself finally stepping on Air Temple Island.

Jinora was spending the night with her father, knowing that Lin would be on duty until the wee hours of the morning.

She quietly slid open the door of her daughter’s room.

After an especially difficult day at work, she wanted (needed) to see her family safe, just to assure herself. She knew that to get home to a family is a blessing, something that is not readily assured.

“Lin?”

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and was surprised to see the form of the airbender getting up from a chair beside the crib.

“Is everything okay?”

Lin swallowed drily and pushed forward, to peer into Jinora’s crib.

Together they silently watch Jinora sleep, with her tiny chest rise and fall with every breath.

She felt Tenzin place an arm around her shoulder, anchoring her to his side comforting and reassuring.

 Tenzin knew it was the right time.

“Lin, marry me.”

“You can’t – what about your life partner?” Lin’s voice was uncharacteristically small.

“Oh, Lin,” Tenzin moved to face her. He choked out a watery laugh. “Is that why you’ve been so distant?”

“I didn’t want to overstep.” She tried to look away but Tenzin placed a gentle finger under her chin, making her look up at him.

“Oh Lin.” He shook his head smiling even as moisture leaked from his eyes. “It’s you. You’re my life partner. There’s no one else. I’ve never looked elsewhere.” He took a chance and leaned forward to hug her close to himself, hoping that she feels his heartbeats, steady and true. “Please give me a chance, please let me know that there is still a chance after Noatak -.”

He was interrupted by Lin pushing up and capturing his lips.

“Tenzin – I never looked elsewhere either; it’s only been you.”

 ---

Note: Sooo there you have it. Let me know what you thiiink. (Also, thinking of changing the title – maybe but let’s see). This was something of wish fulfillment I guess, nothing too heavy and nothing too plot-ty.