#For some clarification on my reason for doubting: if they said they believe all those implications I'd believe them

[ante--meridiem]

Certain tumblr anti-vegans say they don't see the point of veganism because animals and plants are both alive and have equal moral value to them, and there could maybe be a cogent position there, except... do any of these people actually see it that way in practice?

Do they consider joking about accidentally killing all your houseplants morally equivalent to joking about adopting puppies and then neglecting them to death?

Do they see kids who dismember insects for fun as morally equivalent to kids who make daisy chains for fun?

Maybe they do, far be it from me to disbelieve people who say they hold fringe positions, but most of these people don't seem that fringe in how they approach living beings, so I do wonder.

[ultraericthered]

When some fool interjects onto one of my posts (responding to someone else) about Disney's Wish discourse:

Okay. Just for clarification. I am an English major and I am only a semester away from having an associates. Breaking down movies and books is a hobby and a past time. So here are my thoughts.

Oh, so immediately this "clarification" doesn't sound very humble.

Without a doubt whether or not you consider this to be good or bad is opinion. It's debatable. I personally fall on the side of not liking it. I see why people can like it and I'm not gonna dox people for liking it. It's definitely one of those movies where you could "theoretically" like and enjoy despite it's multitude of flaws.

Wow, this is a mature, civil, level-headed and reasonable tone to take, and for a rational statement! You almost never see that on social media! I'll give this good sir or miss props for that. Will it last?

The plot was overall basic and uninspired.

Unfortunately yes, it absolutely was. Not one of the film's stronger qualities, I'm afraid, and with such a solid, captivating premise too!

What I mean by this is this... The plot was a carbon copy of other ideas and thoughts previously done from their other works. While this is not necessarily a bad thing, for this movie it brings it down BECAUSE it relies too heavily on them.

✓Sweet dreamy eye protagonist who is so sweet that everybody loves her

✓ talking animal side kick who provides comedic relief

✓wishing on a star

✓ female leading crying on an inanimate object because something didn't go her way

✓evil villain

✓magic saving the day

Nice checklist. Again, nothing too disagreeable so far....

These are all not necessarily bad. In fact these are good ideas to have. We have seen them before. AND THAT'S THE PROBLEM

Oh no. Is this Doug Walker argument really rearing its ugly head? A work of art or entertainment is allowed to derive from earlier made works of art or entertainment as sources of inspiration and creative intake but are not permitted to straight up repeat ideas, scenarios, plot beats and character archetypes "we have all seen before" in other works, at least not without "adding anything new of its own"?

Call me crazy, but I think Disney was heavily considering not only children born in the late 2010s, but also the current 2020s-born generation when putting this picture together. A bunch of youngsters who might've not once seen anything like what's featured in this movie before in their early years, which would make this their first big exposure to Disney animated fairy tales just as the animated fairy tales of old were the first exposure to children of those films' eras. Because every time a type of story is retold and ideas are recycled into that story could be someone's first time. That is a fact of life.

I understand that uniquemess and originality are hard to come by nowadays. I'm a writer and original ideas are the hardest to find. What you have to do is take those old ideas and make them new. What Disney did was not make these old tired tropes their own, they rehashed them and expected us to go, "Oh! That's just like this movie!"

It makes the movie lose its own voice. This movie is too wrapped up in references and tropes they've used before to try and capture nostalgia, that wonder they used to have. What made those movies so special was the heart and care that went into them. This is Disney's 100 anniversary, but instead it feels like Disney's catch 100 references to when we were a better and a more creative studio.

This would be speaking to the side of the movie that was NOT geared towards the kids, however. The side of the movie that, because it's a celebratory centennial milestone event, caters to longtime hardcore Disney fans who will immediately get all the references, recognize the homages and callbacks, spot all the little Easter Eggs thrown all over the film. I've said before that I do not believe Disney should've put so much attention and effort into this side of the movie compared to the original story, especially when they made Once Upon A Studio to better serve the centennial celeberation purposes, and that they did so was a huge mistake, being easily the movie's biggest handicap.

Why is this bad? Well don't I have the answer for you!

Alrighty then, thanks again for the honesty!

They HAD a beautiful story!! The idea and premise for this movie is probably my favorite thing but the execution from a professional and eye is awful! You cannot look at this movie and tell me that it is the Mona Lisa when it is nothing but a carbon Copy of what once was.

No disagreement there. I pray this fellow's not seen the concept art and all the information floating around about what we might've had.

It was done in a manner that was so half hearted and so clearly a cash grab they practically insult themselves. The plot was predictable and falls flat.

I love how the second sentence reads like a non sequitur to the first. I've heard the "half-hearted, cynical and desperate cash grab" accusations and I don't quite think they're accurate. I think this was a production that began with a lot of heart and care put into what everyone was designing and realizing in order to make a worthy new original Disney fairy tale for the 100th year mark, but ended with micro-managing corporate stooges "doctoring" the scripting, the scoring, the pacing (via editing), and the overall presentation of the work to turn out something safe and crowd-pleasing that hits off as much Disney quota as possible. Again, for the 100th year mark. And so what we ended up with was what I've called a "beautiful mess."

The villain was interesting at first! He was giving me a similar two sidedness as Frollo and then the back track his character by throwing in an evil maguffin to make him evil because it is clear to anyone who knows basic plot structure that it was rushed and they didn't know what else to do to progress the story. WE COULD HAVE HAD ANOTHER FROLLO WITH HIM, BUT WE GOT A HALF HEARTED GASTON!

This is starting to ramble, but I'll try to make sense of it. For one thing, I do not think Magnifico was ever at any point of the film's development set to be like "another Frollo". His core influences clearly come from Queen Grimhilde, Maleficent, Gaston, and Jafar. And the evil maguffin was not "thrown in to make him evil" - the tome of forbidden dark magic was set up as a Chekov's Gun earlier in the picture because it was what would be A: what would make Magnifico such a formidable threat to everyone, and B: what would serve as the catalyst for Magnifico to break his bonds of well-meaning rationale and discard the mask of mental and moral soundness. The prompt for him to turn to it was very rushed, yes, and his backstory and motivations behind his possessiveness, paranoia, and iron-fisted tendencies needed to be better set up and conveyed prior to this turn. I will not dispute that. But Magnifico, both in his own character arc and in how his spiral into villainy progresses the story, is so much more than "half hearted Gaston", and it really ain't nothing to do with "knowing basic plot structure" or whatever pretentious rhetoric is being used as criticism here.

Speaking of Gaston: You mentioned that The king being shoehorned in as a villain was like saying Gaston was shoehorned. I have an explanation for this. The reason why...

Yeah? What's the reason why?

Now I hope I don't loose you here. This will get a little difficult...

WHAT'S THE REASON WHY? GET ON WITH IT!

In order to PROPERLY set up a character, this goes for Asha too (more on her later), you have to set up their character and what they are about in the first 5-10 minutes they are on screen. In the movie what we are told is that the king is noble and loves his people. There was no shadow of a doubt if this. And then as the movie progresses, specifically at the 30 minute mark it is revealed that oh hoho he is a narcissist and is obsessed with himself. The way they did this was out of the blue and off putting. It came out of nowhere. There was no build up. It was a sweet song about the wishes and then BAM I'm a narcissist who cares about no one but myself. That 180 came so fast they did not even prep themselves for it. It felt like this was a last minute idea.

Well, King Magnifico was noble in regards to his ideology and his aspiration to see his kingdom continue to prosper while also being the one to safeguard the most precious wishes of the hearts of his subjects. And he loved his people...so long as they loved him, gave him constant appraisal and attention and undying devotion, and remained the good little dreamless drones he wanted them to be. Noble intentions can give way to indulgence in one's darker qualities and impulses if "the ends will justify the means" is subscribed to, and not all love is unconditional love. I have heard the complaints that Magnifico's unveiling plays out like a Twist Villain and that he was likely not intended to be really evil but they changed him last minute to pander to the "bring back traditional Disney Villains!" fan crowd. And I personally find it bollocks when the simpler answer is that King Magnifico is a corrupt, narcissistic manipulator with a God Complex whose benevolence is illusionary and whose wish-keeping system is an oppressive, dishonest, self-benefitting sham. Was the execution of the idea notably off in terms of the pace it moved at? Absolutely. This does not make Magnifico any lesser a villain, at least not to me.

Don't get me wrong, I love Asha.

This is a lie. There doesn't seem to be any "love" for anything in this movie coming from you.

She is sweet and funny, but she is poorly written.

Not only have I not argued that, I have actually stated as much!

We are not shown why she is sweet or why she is caring. We are told.

So we're just told that she's sweet rather than seeing her being so get shown, yet you like her for being sweet and funny? Which is it?

With her fatal flaw, caring too much, she is told this is her fatal flaw. The movie doesn't trust us enough for us to figure out her fatal flaw. And it doesn't even really show us that she cares too much to begin with.

Uh, yes it does. Her interactions with her mother and how far she's willing to go for her grandfather Sabino and how quickly she gets to being protective and cherishing of Star show us this. Like, if Sabino really is 100 years old and gave Magnifico his wish when he came of age years ago, that is years and years and years of life that Asha was not around to witness, as she hadn't been born yet. So you'd forgive her if she didn't invest all that much in getting Sabino's wish granted at last because she doesn't know her grandfather all that well as the gap between how long he's been alive and how long she's been alive is so huge, yet her heart cares so much about him and the idea of his wish being granted to him before he passes away that it becomes a fixation to her. She'd been spared lots of trouble and heartache had she cared less.

There are so many unexplained why's, to her it makes my head spin. Why does she care? Why does she want to be an Apprentice?

She wants to be an Apprentice so that she can be close to the king and the wishes he keeps, learn the inner workings of the system, and ensure that the king grants wishes to those she feels ought to have their hearts desires granted and their dreams realized. And this brings us to another flaw of hers that I wish the movie itself took time to notice and actually address as being such - well meaning or not, Asha was hoping that being in Magnifico's favor would get Magnifico to allow her to push for nepotism in regards to Sabino. It ended up backfiring and unveiling the king's darker nature, but it also unvelied something about Asha that the movie then sadly paid no mind to.

Why is she sweet? Why is she the way she is? Is it cause she is naturally that way like snow white? Was she raised to be that way? Or did she have a rough upbringing that made her this way? We don't know. That's the bottom line.

This movie has so many analytical flaws that I physically do not have the time nor the words to accurately explain to you why this movie is technically bad. But I doubt you care to even consider my points and come up with a half baked response.

Aaaand there's the condescending attitude you were holding back! Aaah, color me so disappointed! The "I cannot accurately convey in words how technically bad this movie is" is a cop-out, but one I'll let slide as it gets you off my back. But that other part? I DID consider your points and have in fact agreed with a few of them, and even ones I disagreed with I can see why you'd think that way about those matters. Yet you pre-emptively say "half baked response?" Sheesh!

I bid you a due. I'm gonna go watch an actually good movie.

"An actually good movie". There's another tacky, needless potshot.

Also, you fool. You absolute buffoon. It's "adieu", not "a due!"

[abubblingcandle]

Personal life bitch so putting it under the cut

I adore playing flag football. It's the perfect sport for me. It's quick bursts of pace not endurance, it's cerebral and being athletic helps but you can make up for not being athletic with strategy, it's also relatively unknown so I can legitimately say I play for the 4th best team in the country and have tried out to represent my country. It keeps me fit, it gives me friends I actually see in real life. This is my 6th year playing women's, and I am on a break from playing in the mixed 2nd tier.

However I am now 80% sure the women's captain is fatphobic (the 20% doubt might just be that she hates me personally as I am the only overweight person on the team). She refuses to play me consistently and will not (or can not) justify why not and if there was another nearby women's team I would quit.

Evidence:

She won't play me in the position I like playing even if there is literally no one else - For those of you who know American Football, for three years I played QB. The starting QB on this team is better than me I will freely admit that. But even when the usual starter isn't there it's like I'm not in contention. And her excuse was "you perform better without stress and I thought QB stressed you out". I wouldn't have kept asking to play it if it stressed me out. The reason why she thought it stressed me out was because I had a panic attack at a game day because one of my own players shouted at me that I was shit and I would cost the team games if I was that shit, during a warm up when I had not thrown a football in 8 months and I slightly over threw her 🤷 Today starting QB, back up QB, rookie QB all not at training. Coach asked who wanted to throw, I said me. I threw in the drills. Game time - she picked someone who didn't want to play QB with a fucking rotator cuff injury over me, citing that she needed me to get some practice at receiver. I then played 15 plays at most (12 or so minutes out of 1hr playing). Last game day the only QB went down injured m, I lept in saying I'll do it! Gave the ball to someone who hadn't played the position before.

When I ask why she isn't playing me she gives bullshit excuses - "you need to practice at that position" I've been playing it for a year, "you haven't been at training" I've been at training more than you have even though it takes me an hour and a bit to get there over it taking her 5 minutes, "be confident and understand all positions" I have played all positions in competitive matches and am a qualified coach, "it's a tactical decision" so what's the point of me being here then

She can't ever come up with anything I can do to improve - every time I ask for advice to improve the response is either "you did well" or "don't worry about it". Which makes me think she can't see a way for me to be better or she doesn't want to say lose weight and get faster because she knows that is a shit thing. Like if you think I'm a weak link and the only thing I can do is be faster then fucking tell me and I'll fuck off

The problem is that she is a coach and is the long term partner of the head coach. So I can't bitch to him about it.

I really don't want to quit but I think if it's the same this season (likely going to be worse as we have more players) then this might be my last season as a flag player which breaks my heart

EDIT - Can't believe I forgot about this. We're installing a new defence and this was my first play in that defence. Fact that you need for this to make sense we have a player called Laura and a player called Lauren, it'll be relevant later. I asked for clarification on what I should do and she said "stay in the middle and get in the way", sure I can do that. That is actually my fave place to be on defence. Play starts, Lauren cuts and runs into the middle. I drop back to get in the throwing lane and get in the way of Lauren. As I do that Person Who Hates Me shouts "cover Laura" who was going late out wide. I had already committed to Lauren and was so confused as I couldn't tell if she said Laura or Lauren and so stuck with Lauren in the middle. Ball went to someone who was open deep. Soon as the play is over she comes over and shouts "in that sort of play you should have stayed and then gone wide with Laura". My response, "ok, my bad next time I'll go with the runner across late". Another player comes in to debrief about why the player that caught was open and Person Who Hates Me just kept repeating, "I should have been on her but I had to go with Laura because Candle was in the wrong place!" over and over and it made me feel so shit. Like I acknowledged that at my first time of doing something I did the wrong thing (despite it being clearly the right option based on what I was told to do) so there's no need to be such a bitch about it

Ok I'm done now

[ramuma]

revving up the typewriter 🖋️

Time has proven to me that nothing is forever, but pieces of great broken things will linger around the unturned corners of the house for years and years.

Leaving is not the punishment I'd like it to be. On some days I am whimsical, a dream, a best friend. On other days I am just there, trying to speak in conversations between people who can't listen. A natural born observer, I've seen it happen to everyone. I blame it on a harmless mixture of fast-paced fun and youthful ignorance. It's always fine; in the end, it's always about love.

It had been about love.

An all-encompassing, wholly compassionate, understanding kind of love. A soul-to-soul understanding. I finally felt safe, wrapped in a boundless sense of it—mistakes and all—until yesterday.

Suddenly, I felt wholly misunderstood. The misunderstanding took me by surprise completely. I never would have ever expected someone to put those words in my mouth and try to correct me without even asking for clarification first. When someone you love does something that might be wrong, the right thing to do is investigate the matter—there's no reason to be upset before being sure.

She didn't ask me if she had heard right. She didn't check to make sure that I said what she thought I said. She just called my words "kind of crazy" in front of everyone without being sure. I may never forget what it felt like to hear that and be so confused why I was hearing it... to have someone I trusted so much to know me, be so loudly wrong about me.

Once misunderstood so deeply, it's hard to believe that it was ever possible to be perceived correctly in the first place. What other words of mine have been turned into something other than what I intended? Is the benefit of the doubt something not granted to the best of friendships like I thought it was?

When I went to sleep last night, I dreamed of the backseat of the car. Red and white lights steaming through the dark glass of the night, passing like speeding rivulets. In her place, a raven-haired ghost had formed, angry with me for having asked the wrong question. In a glimpse of a moment, I was seven in the blue leather backseat of my dad's old three series, wearing pink sneakers and being yelled at for something I didn't do. In another moment, the angle changed and I was twenty-five, in the moment it all started, explaining myself. I knew the words before I spoke them but I couldn't stop them from coming out bitter. Why didn't you ask me "what do you mean?" I'm hurt that you would think I'd say something like that. And the miserable, weak, begging to be understood: If you had asked my opinion on the matter, I would've said...

All explanations left unheard. Forgiveness is a knife you grip at the blade. I love to bleed. The scars on my palms prove I have done it many times before—it is an easy choice.

Misunderstanding, however, is a sea. Once the torrent of navy waves pulls you out, finding you comes at great cost to those on land—if they ever even realize you've been lost.

[faggot-billcipher]

i will truly never get over the fact that even though the main claim about my alter lucifer being a pedophile was based on the word of uwuowoazu. the people who used that as the main claim for that never once called her out for lying blatantly and also suicide baiting people repeatedly to try to make certain fnaf fan antis stop disliking me. (behavior that i clearly could not have forced her to do at the time she chose to do it since i said multiple times to not do it and when it hapened i was either outside or trying to fucking sleep.) nor have they ever once addressed or called out azula's unapologetic transphobic behavior that she doubled down on even when corrected. and one of the people behind that claim in the callout have her BLOCKED now. because theyearmed my system's warnings about azula's abusive and manipulative nature wree fucking right. which i literally warned those people about. ut ig that's what happens when io is stupid enough to think every single person who dislikes my system and i must be a poor wittle victim who did no wrong boohoo. instead of acknowledging bother people in a situaiotn can be assholes. or that sometimes no one in the situation is an inherent black and white victim. this is your brain on anti rhetoric. also should go without saying but i am immediately blocking anyone who still blindly believes the genderfluidlucifer callout post. even if youve left the anti community now. as a general you. that callout is full of tons of disinfo. including claiming i'm a cis male and repeatedly doubling down on misgendering me. and even claiming a close mutual of mine was the one, misgendering me when he fucking wasn't at the time. all the while still misgendering me as they claimed that lie aobut my actually close and trustworthy mutual. if you still believe that callout post you're an idiot and should feel bad for it. i'm through with giving any benefit of the doubt to people who still blindly think it has any merit. and mass blocking anyone supporting it and hatefollowing me over it. and yes btw many people are still hatefollownig me ove rthat.i only know because my tumblr exposes when you hatefollow someone. OOPS.

i also hate how parasocial the people calling out luci cat in general. o for some reason keeps framing everything in the callout as if we knew eachother on a close level. even they they regularly avoided chatting mosrt of the time when i was active in their discord. and would repeatedly ghot me for hours when i asked for clarification one of their very confusingly worded discord rules. like bitch you don't get to claim we were close or that you knew me so well while ghosting me that hard and frequently, get over yourself.

i shouldn't have to say this but hating someone doesn't mean you automatically know everything about their lfie and inner psyche. i really especially hate that aspect of callout culture that's become so normalized in the past few years. parasocial hate is just as bad aand real as being parasocial to a blogger or celebrity you love imo. and both forms of parasocial mentality turn into stalking really fucking fsat.

also you can't really be gaslit by someone you avoided talking to that much. let's get real here. gaslighting literally involves way more direct and intentional interaction than that online or otherwise. thi is why gaslighting needs to be put on the shelf until people who blindly believe every claim about a person being a pedophile in a callout can learn to behave.

also also they left out the fact that the case of child molestation was literally just based on a fnaf au rp that azula and i did. one she pressured me into at the time. and i said i merely wanted to explore an au were my fnaf au oc layla didn't get rapde because ome of her characters saved her in time nefore it happende. so she decided to do that opposite of that. and tried to include a graphic rape scene anyways in a joking manner. (as in she literally amde a joke bragging about how fucked it up was for her to add that so you can't claim she was being ignorant.)i shut it down fast and we did not contionue that particular rp.| but i guess i'm repsonsible for the actions an apaprent minor chose to take at the time. even tohugh i litelaly told her to opt quickly after she pullde that. after she litrelaly ignored my clearly statde boundaries in the topic of that rp. i am not agreeing to the claim that i molested a child. i never met azula irl. and i never would've considered meeting her irl because i would've had to trust her enough to. as she'd shown to me many times what a red flag of a person she was ocnstantly. even buefore another anti helped me realize she might've been lying aobut how young she was when this rp took place. ia m not interested in molesting children anyways.. you can say you hate me and want med ead without making up shit. i barely go out enough to go and molest a child irl you absolute dinguses.

and even when i do go outside i barely deliberately interact with children irl outside of relatives and sometimes forced interactions. forced as in i did not initiate it first and i just have to Endure It until it stops happening. so yeah fuck off with that claim already. and i know the only reason y'all went wild with the callout was the bullshit child molester claim. because you can't just call out someone for one or two things. you have to add like 50 shock value claims because you wanna act like you caught the next yandev or creepshowart even when you didn't. which just further makes it harder for me to believe every callout an anti makes anymore. after that experience and seeing how flimsily made callout posts like that can gain traction so fast with barely anyone quesitioning it.

[soulwarmness]

Archangel Azrael

This is a trance-channeling from Archangel Azrael, sometimes known as the Angel of Death, and it was done by my wife, Jill.

Jill, who is both my wife and my Spiritual Avatara, was inquiring with her spiritual guide about the definitions of the words "trust" and "truth," and she was hoping to get some clarification. The following is what she wrote, which included in part of advice from her spiritual mentor and in part of her own thoughts:

Jill: "Trust" is defined as "dependence on" and "belief in" the reality that is being presented. The attribute of being real, also known as genuineness or actuality, is referred to as truth. When people put their faith in a religious institution, it means that they acknowledge the claims made by the religious institution as being "the truth." Religion, on the other hand, is nothing more than an idea or a set of concepts that have been written down or passed down through human history and are viewed as representing some aspect of the world or the universe.

Why do so many individuals adopt these beliefs and accept them without making the effort to determine whether or not these faiths are in accord with their own feelings and thoughts? Because it is a scientific reality that no two entities can occupy the same space and time at the same time, it follows that if you doubt God, you don't believe, and so, in your mind, God does not exist.

It was fascinating to see a Catholic Nun speak out against anything on national television. Yesterday, she was quoted as stating, "If I go to paradise, and if I get to see God, I'll..." Isn't it odd that a Catholic Nun would use the word "If" in a statement like that?

It seems reasonable to assume that a lady who devotes her entire life to serving God would have the mindset that she has already been included to the "goody list" and will be granted an expedited entry into heaven. Does she believe that she is unworthy? Is there a possibility that she believes heaven does not exist?

How many people are born into a religion and are raised to practise that religion without ever questioning whether or not it is the "correct" religion for them? How many people have put forth the effort to educate themselves on the practises and tenets of various religions, as well as the morals and ethics of those who hold those beliefs? My opinion is that unless we do that, we won't be able to discover the truth.

At this point, spirit interrupted Jill's thoughts and the channelling session she was having with her guide. Archangel Azrael, also known as "The Angel of Death," talked to Jill and said the following:

You are unable to hope to fathom living in togetherness until such time as you have an understanding of your brothers and sisters, says the Archangel Azrael. Everyone one of you is filled with the Holy Spirit. Your objective is to broaden your mental and spiritual perspectives as much as possible in order to progress through the five stages of human consciousness. After that, and only after that, will you be able to move on to the next dimension.

The purpose of the soul's journey is to gather knowledge and experiences, then apply that knowledge to a specific incarnation (what it means to be in the flesh), in order to determine what works for you and what does not work for you. This is the reason why there is such a wide range of religious and nonreligious views to choose from; but, despite the fact that you all go through the same suffering, you do not show more compassion for one another.

You instead regard one another with distrust, jealousy, and hostility in your eyes.

[my-writings-and-musings]

henlo, i hope this one makes sense, but how about mtmte drift, rodimus and brainstorm (or at least just drift if thats too many!) with a human s/o (gender neutral pls!) who after hearing a compliment from their bots about them, the s/o's kneejerk reaction to to kinda laugh and say "u dont mean that" bc theyre so unused to genuine compliments? thank u so much!!!

It does make sense and it is extremely relatable so here comes some AFFIRMATIONS

Drift

"I love your eyes, have I told you that?"

You stopped, baffled, as soon the ninja bot's praise registered. Though his expression was certainly lovestruck enough to back up his words, the automatic response within you was starting up before you had broken out into a full blush. Your laugh was mechanical as you playfully waved a hand at his compliment.

"What's there to love about my eyes?"

Drift actually went quiet at your words and tilted his helm, expression going from confused to concerned before he spoke again. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice. "Everything, Y/N. You have the most brilliant and gentle gaze..."

"Oh, I really don't know about that." you replied again, still going on reflex at his kind but baffling words. Praise was not something you knew how to handle, so brushing it off just felt more comfortable. His reaction was a confusing first to this strategy. Why did he seem so worried about your dismissal? Surely he was just playing, words like his were never directed your way seriously. Yet he didn't seem to be at all teasing as he frowned in concern, leaning forward on the desk to be closer to you.

"I don't know how to make this any clearer, but please know I'm trying to convey as much truth as possible in my aura; I adore everything about you, including your eyes. I mean that with every part of my being."

The intensity of his words distracted you so thoroughly you didn't even realize he'd taken your tiny hands into his, gently resting your palms between two careful digits as he looked to you with the earnestness of someone swearing an oath.

"I..." you gasped, unable to find any words. What were you supposed to say to this? No one had ever said anything in such a way to you before, and believing he meant it just... didn't compute? Standing in a kind of broken silence was your only reply.

Understanding as ever, Drift smiled, softly and reassuringly. "You're not used to compliments yet, that's okay."

For some reason you teared up, but more due to some emotional blockage being cleared than anything else. Nodding, you tried not to think on how few memories you had of receiving kind words. There was next to nothing you could recall. Ever the supportive one, Drift placed a tiny kiss on your forehead, whispering as he did so. Warmth filled your heart at the comfort he brought with so simple an action, and for the first time you actually believed what he had to say.

"We'll fix that in time, I promise."

Rodimus

"You have the cutest smile, seriously."

Sitting atop the chest of the lounging captain, your laugh at his joke was cut short by the unexpected praise, and on instinct you worked to steer back to levity. A hand on the back of your neck helped you think through the flustered fog.

"Ha, of course! Whatever you say!" you replied haltingly, adjusting fake problems with your hair to have something else to focus on. Unlike always, the fun loving bot chose that moment to be serious. Frowning softly, he looked down at you as you remained awkwardly seated on his chest, and you couldn't bring yourself not to look at his big blue optics. There was so much concern in those striking blue depths.

"Hey, I know I joke around a lot, but I mean everything I say about loving you." he said softly, a hand looping about your back to keep you sitting up. Blinking in thought, you felt your mind hit a kind of wall. There was just no reconciling what he said with what you knew you be true. There was nothing to love about how you smiled.

"I... I wouldn't know..." you mumbled awkwardly, not knowing what to do and more or less freezing up. Compliments were just... hard. What were you supposed to do with them? How could a bot who'd seen so much think so highly of you? The uncertainty of those thoughts frightened you, and your hands began to knead of their own accord.

"Should I show you?" Rodimus asked suddenly, getting energized in the way he did when he wanted to prove something. There was no time to ask for clarification before you were being pulled in for a kiss. Two hands cupped your back as he smooched your head with overdramatic noises, followed by a number of tiny pecks along your upper forehead. The action was so ridiculous you could only laugh. Rodimus continued until you were snorting at the silliness of it all, and only then did he pull back with a triumphant grin.

"There it is, best smile on the ship..." he said softly, brushing a finger over your squishy cheeks as he did so. The warmth of his physical affection didn't fade this time, and you found yourself holding the digit close as you left a kiss on the tip. He melted in an instant at the contact, taking on a far off dreamy look that made it clear he adored you. There was no denying this mech meant every sweet word he directed your way, and despite a long history of doubting yourself, knowing that made it hard to feel you weren't worth something.

Brainstorm

"I can always count on you for the best feedback!"

Watching the scientist dangle from his rig, you found yourself pausing at his reply to your advice, enough so that you didn't have a response of your own until you saw him coming down. Brainstorm had asked if his new experimental weapon appeared functional from your angle on the bench, and all you'd done was say it looked to be especially curious from below. There was no way he'd actually found that helpful, so obviously he must have been joking.

"Of course, you couldn't do it without me." you said sarcastically, watching as the inventor righted himself and his weapon of still indeterminate use. Two bright optics affixed to you and made it clear a determined but obvious smile was hidden behind his mask.

"I couldn't! Of course it looks curious from the bottom; I didn't design it with zero gravity conditions in mind!" he said emphatically, placing the gun down beside you in order to work on it. His comment absolutely baffled you. Was he being serious? All you'd done was say the first thing that came to mind, and there wasn't much useful in that to a bot that restructured reality when it suited his needs.

"You would have figured that out without me." you said on your own, trying to close up the confusing little predicament. Unfortunately Brainstorm tilted his head at your comment, signaling it wasn't done but at least sounding like he wasn't at all frustrated when he replied.

"I don't think so. I couldn't exactly see myself from below, could I? You have a way of figuring out exactly what I need to hear." he said plainly, optics briefly squishing upwards in another smile as he did so. When you were too baffled to reply, he shifted to an expression of more obvious worry, putting his project aside to face you entirely. "I mean that, Y/N. I really feel like you say just what it takes to get me on track. You inspire me."

At those words your brain briefly turned to static. What was it you could possibly do to inspire him? There was nothing about you especially motivating, yet he looked too serious to be joking, so you had no clue how to reply. For the sake of your sanity you only smiled and waved a hand.

"Just... just doing what I do... Nothing special-"

"Y/N..." he interrupted gently, looking at you with the big tender optics that melted your heart every time. You weren't at all prepared for him to unlatch his mask, removing it from his lower face to reveal his full soft expression. Full lips frowned in concern as he lowered his helm to speak on your level. "I really like having you around. You know that, right?"

For reasons you didn't understand you were near to crying, and couldn't speak without the risk of shedding tears. Your partner gently lifted your chin with a digit, and on reflex you laid a hand on the tip of his finger, squeezing it for reasurance. Why was this so hard? Did most people struggle to accept when nice things were said about themselves?

A tender kiss on the back of your hand helped to clear your mind a bit. Looking back up at the sweet expression looking down at you, the love in his every minute feature as day, you admittedly felt a little better. Perhaps with time you could really believe someone so wonderful when they sang your praises, and by his expression you knew he'd endeavor to do just that.

[pandoraimperatrix]

caught between goodbye and I love you

DickKory | Pining | Eventual smut | Two shots | Post season 3 AU

Chapter 1: My heart is a sad affair

Nobody could say he didn't have been trying. Well, they could but it wouldn't be true.

Even though Bruce had made sure Dick knew how to attract the female attention, nobody told him what to do when it didn’t work as planned. Or how to stanch the wound.

Hell, Bruce made sure he could seduce anyone that could be seduced. "It is a very useful skill to have in your utility belt, Chum" he said then. But it didn't mean Dick didn’t pray for the sweet release of death back then when he was being forced to have seduction lessons under Alfred's or worse, Selina's tutelage.

He should have payed more attention to when they broke up, not that he’d have learnt something useful. They always got back together. He and Kory on other hand…

Well, been taught how to seduce someone for ulterior motives didn’t mean he knew what to do when his goal was not mission oriented. Usually in a mission, after the seduction part was over, even if he had to date the person for more than one night, he had a script and a clear goal. But what if there was no mission? What if he had hopes instead of goals? What to do without no script to follow? No set of rules to guide him?

And he was especially bad when he genuinely cared, never being able to judge if he was trying too hard or too little, usually finding himself overcome with anxiety which resulted into pushing the object of his affections away in the long run. That happened to Dawn, to Babs, hell, despite being a completely different kind of relationship it almost happened with Rachel and Gar too. Thank goodness his children were way more forgiving.

Since Dawn was gone for good and he and Babs had broke up again after deluding themselves for a whole five minutes that their childhood trauma bonded romance could have a last hurrah. He was back to reality. The depressing reality that he, to his absolute despair, cared for Kory, so much, too much, more than he had thought that he ever could for anyone.

Read on AO3

Despite all his overthinking tendencies, all his overplanning, all his precautions, he really didn’t see that coming. Of course, he was aware he was attracted to her from day one, it was nothing alarming back then, at least in the beginning. It hurt when she told him she needed to find out who she was before it got too serious, but he understood, and it was fine. They had time. And time they had, after their reunion, raising a household together, his physical attraction to her remained, and new set of feelings started breeding from their partnership. Something way more aggravating than the constant desire to fuck her brains off every time she entered the room, something deeper.

It took a while, because he was known for being stubborn as fuck, but he knew that a good detective can’t cherry pick evidences, and eventually, he admitted to himself that he wanted to be with her forever. Which not only was a scary thought by itself, considering how much time he spent running from everything serious and true, but it made his insides twist in fear.

Because nothing that good could last. When the love of you life quite literally fell from heaven, heaven can take her back whenever. And the thought of losing her at any moment pushed his anxieties to the roof. Her behaviour haven’t been exactly helping. Despite of not having anything substantial of proof, Dick could feel something was wrong with her, something that she wouldn't talk about no matter how many times he tried to approach her.

Maybe it was his fault, maybe he put himself in a position in which she felt responsible for his wellbeing but not trustworthy to be relied upon after the mess he had made with Slade and with Jason.

Besides, what claim did he have to demand any clarification from her? They weren't together.

But it still hurt. That feeling of uselessness, of having nothing to offer when she gave so much just being by his side.

They lived in the same house and were currently raising super powered teenagers together, everybody outside their tight circle assumed they were a couple, married even, hell, her sister thought they were together. And Kory hardly flinched when they dined out and the waiter called her “Mrs Grayson”, she joked about it, that also hurt, because it wasn’t true. Yes they used to have sex, and yes he was trying to make his grimaces of pain to look like smiles on regular basis to hide how much he wanted her, but they are not together.

But it wasn't by Dick's choice.

It was Kory's.

And the rejection hurt, especially when he didn’t expect it.

From all his many faults, Dick wasn't that kind of guy, it wasn’t as if he didn’t think that her rejection was impossible or insulting due to some high opinion of himself. But it just didn’t make sense. He wasn't deluding himself, although he sometimes had no choice but doubt, wanting to believe and respect her choice, but when it had such dissonance with her actions…

Because, as much as he sometimes wanted to take the easy way out that his internal self-hatred provided – that he was crazy, pathetic and there was no way in heaven or hell such woman would have feelings for him – Dick had also been trained in reading body language and micro expressions.

Everything about how Kory interacted with him felt like an invitation. Unless he had been suffering from a very serious case of psychosis (again), he couldn’t have been imagining the longing in her gaze. Sometimes, even when he thought she wasn’t in the room, he could feel her eyes in him. And it wasn’t just the hot looks he was used to get from people that only thought he was attractive – even though Kory would give him plenty of those too, his skin had been reaping the benefits of all his ice cold showers. But, sometimes, especially when he was giving attention to their children, or just doing something mundane like reading or meditating, he could feel her watching. A gentle smile on her face, eyes like pools of warmth and endearment. Nobody ever looked at him like that, with such unadulterated fondness.

Or the way she found excuses to touch him. He always loved the feeling of falling, doing unnecessary stunts so he could only feel that special kind of rush. With Kory around to catch him whenever he needed, he had been doing that even more often so he could feel her strong arms around him, and she never denied him.

When they fought enemies, or trained, she always found a way to make skin contact, throwing him at their mark to give him an extra boost, instead of shouting for him to clear away from danger, she’d physically pull him away in very unnecessary and unfortunately fast hugs.

She’d lean on his shoulder for no reason at all, even after her powers returned and she told everyone she was not feeling tired all the time anymore. In the mornings, while they washed the dishes together – since Gar banned them both from cooking – she’d bump him with her hip to make him move out of her way, and her hands always lingered when handing him an utensil.

Kory was always pressing away invisible wrinkles on his clothing, and picking things from his hair, so much he could hear muffled giggles from the children every time she did that.

And how could he have been imagining the way her face lit every time he entered the room, or when someone mentioned his name? He couldn't have made anything like that up. Didn't have the self-esteem necessary, or the self-hatred necessary to imagine such torture.

Dick did wonder, though, if living with a woman that looked like what poets sang about, that had the personality correspondent of the most golden of summer’s day, and flirted with him mercilessly, but yet dismissed every attempt he made to turn their relationship into something romantic was just karma. In the past, he had abused his own good looks and knowledge. Hearts had been broken because of his folly, and now the universe was punishing him or something.

Yeah, right, as if the universe cared that much.

But then, when his bitterness and confusion were not settled at all, and he was getting ready for another night of delicious horrible dreams about the woman that did not want him, something weird happened.

Kory Anders, knocking on his door, with a bottle of tequila, just a few days after he finally asked her out and she destroyed his heart and made a mess of his head by saying no. Not only no, she said she didn’t like him like that. That she loved him as a friend, and didn’t want to make things more complicated.

What a bunch of garbage.

For a fraction of second he wondered what she'd do if he closed the door on her face. But he'd never be able to do that, so, wordlessly, he gave away the space she needed to enter his room.

“Can I help you?” he said when she just stood there, looking everywhere but him, as if his room were a great novelty.

Kory bit her lip and he wanted to die. He didn’t want to believe she did those things out of malice, but sometimes one cannot help but being angry over such carelessness.

“Kory?” he asked in that bitchy impatient way of his.

“I lied,” she finally said in a puff of breath.

“What you mean?” His heart was racing, it couldn’t be. Was he asleep? Most of his dreams began with some sort of flashback of their first night. Terrible, terrible dreams that always ended too soon.

She looked away, searching for something, his heart shrank when swayed her body aside, thinking she was about to leave, but Kory placed the bottle and the cups on his dresser and turned back to him, the look she gave him making his throat feel raw. In two powerful strides she was all over him, firm elegant palms cradling his head as she tilted his face to the angle she wanted for their kiss. It was like if time went back.

He pulled her closer carefully, afraid she’d disappear in the smoke of his lust filled memory if he went too hard or too fast, but even when she remained solid, warm under his touch, her teeth pulling his bottom lip mercilessly, then spreading licks and soothing kisses, her perfume making him dizzy, he let her lead. It was easier, which considering his tendency for always taking the most tortuous path, added a layer of pleasure in a luxury hardly ever taken.

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

Notes:

I started writing this before season 3, because I wanted to write a fic in which Dick was pining, and also I wanted it to be steamy and smutty. But since the smut part is taking forever to finish and the pining part became bigger than what I planned, you get a two shot.

---

Preview:

“Please don’t this. I don’t want to pretend. I’m so tired of lying to you and I’ll have to pretend to the rest of my life. This might be the last night I will ever have to be myself, to be with you. I need this to be real.”

Kory took one of the hands off his hair, bending her arm backwards so she could rub him trough his trousers. Dick let out a moan and she used the opportunity to make a wet path of kisses across his cheekbones, until she reached his ear. She whispered something in her native language and licked his earlobe.

What else could he do? She wanted real. He’d give her real.

Dick pulled her up as his lips claimed hers again, her powerful legs crossed around his hips. He held her up like that for a while, just enjoying the feel of her body pressed flush against his. His hands giving her support by moulding her round butt with his palms.

Dick he walked backwards until his chins hit the bed and he fell sitting with Kory on his lap. She stopped her ministrations to pull her hair from her face and look down at him.

“Hey,” she said, her eyelashes were still wet, but her tears had stopped falling, she looked so… No wonder she belonged to the heavens, no being in the planet could be so perfect.

[cedarwhisp]

Letters

This is a little drabble I wrote that coencides with my Hermit!Tommy fic, Shells in the Foam. This takes place on the DreamSMP after the events of Ch. 8, and though I will give some context under the cut (So, spoilers!) it’ll probably make more sense if you just go read the whole story.

SECOND SPOILER WARNING

Our story so far:

Tommy’s managed to get himself stuck in HermitCraft and found out that Dream tried to alter his code to make him human instead of Avian (the species that Phil is) for unknown reasons. Grian removes the alteration, gives Tommy back his wings, and then Tommy has a weird dream a few days later where he talks to Ghostbur. He can’t convince Ghostbur that he’s not actually dead, but he does convince him to take a letter back for Technoblade and swears him to secricy.

Hi, Technoblade!

Techno’s so used to Wilbur’s ghost popping in, he doesn’t even jump. “Hello, Ghostbur.”

I talked to Phantommy yesterday! Wilbur says happily.

“I heard,” Techno grunts. How could he have not, when Phil called in the middle of the night to tell him, in tears, that whatever was left of his little brother wasn’t coming back.

In Techno’s opinion, it was a blessing and a curse. He had failed, utterly failed, as a brother. Wilbur was dead, Tommy wasn’t, and Techno had shown up after he had been exiled from his country and laughed at him. Then Tommy was dead, and according to Tubbo, Dream had carried his lifeless body into L’Manberg and said he would allow them to bury him there.

Dream said he had jumped.

Techno wondered if he had been pushed.

When Phil had told him, Techno managed to keep it together until his father had hung up, and then cried like a little kid for the first time since Wilbur’s death, six months before.

Techno had been allowed to come for the funeral, probably more for Phil’s sake than anything else, and had helped carry the casket. They had buried Tommy under the L’Mantree, and then Technoblade had gone home and mourned for his little brother in private.

“What do you want, Ghostbur?” Technoblade asks, dragging himself back into the present.

Wilbur looks lost for a moment, and Techno thanks whatever god there might be that he doesn’t have to see Tommy, spitfire, loudmouth Tommy, like what his twin’s become.

Oh! Tommy gave me something for you! 

Wilbur reaches into his pocket and pulls out a letter. Technoblade takes it with trembling hands.

On the front, in Tommy’s signature messy handwriting, is open me when you’re alone.

Techno waits until Wilbur leaves that night to unfold the letter.

All day, his mind whirls with questions- would it be like Wilbur’s books, long and rambling with no real point to them? A final insult, well-deserved, about how much Techno had failed his little brother? A clarification on if Tommy did take his own life, or if Dream had a hand in it?

When Wilbur’s ghost disappears into the trees to head back to L’Manberg, Techno sits by the fire and unfolds the paper.

Techno,

First off, you’re still a dick for using those withers and executing Tubbo, no matter how much “peer pressure” you claim you were under.

Techno rolls his eyes and keeps reading.

Second, I’m very much alive. 

Techno almost drops the letter into the fireplace, and he’s overwhelmed by a sense of relief so strong he has to pause for a moment. Chat, who had all been quiet up until then, started chanting TOMMY’S ALIVE! And DREAM IS A LYING PRICK!

I have no idea how, but I ended up on a different server. I won’t tell you the name, just to be safe, but I promise I’m trying my best not to piss anyone off.

“I doubt that,” Technoblade mutters to himself, but he’s smiling.

Third, did you know that, apparently, I did have wings? According to someone on my new server, Dream’s been messing around with people’s memories and my code in particular, 

Holy shit, Techno thinks, and things start falling into place. Phil had acted strangely after Tommy and Wilbur joined the SMP, and Techno remembered him sometimes taking Tommy aside for a private conversation, but for some reason that didn’t make sense up until now, Techno couldn’t remember why.

Techno feels the surge of red-hot anger and blood for the blood god start, because, as Phil explained, taking an Avian’s wings is a punishment worse than death, but pushes them back until he’s finished the letter.

probably because he’s a dickhead who tried to kill me.

CALLED IT! yells a significant portion of chat. Technoblade has to resist the urge to get his axe right then and there.

DO NOT TRUST DREAM. Do not tell anyone I’m alive. Burn this letter when you’re done with it.

-Big T.

P.S. Don’t worry about Ghostbur. No matter what I say he thinks I’m just in denial about being dead, which is understandable.

P.P.S. Maybe let Ghostbur keep believing that.

Techno reads the letter over and over, until he has it memorized, and then tosses it into the fire. He watches the paper crumble to ash, then gets out his planner. He’s been meaning to build a bunker anyway.

Dream is going to pay.

[songtoyou]

Tempting Fate - Part Two

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Nothing major, but there is lots of smoking. 

Word Count: 2,080

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone.

Chapter Summary: As you continue to live in Small Heath, you develop a strong camaraderie amongst its residents. The only one who continues to give you the cold shoulder is Mr. Tommy Shelby. Polly has a conversation with you and her nephew. She seems to know more than she may be letting on about the connection you and Tommy may have. 

A/N: For this story, Esme uses her maiden name and married name, so she goes by Esme Lee-Shelby. This story takes place during season two of the show. May Carleton is mentioned in this chapter and might be making an appearance in later chapters. I like May; she has never bothered me, and I like her “relationship” with Tommy. I did include a Romani phrase in this chapter, which translates to, “Go with God and in good health.” I found the phrase online and hope it is correct. If it isn’t, then I am profoundly sorry and do not wish to offend anyone. That is never my intent. Remember, there is no Grace or Greta in this fic. They do not exist in the realm of this alternate universe. 

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag List: @owenniasstars​

You settled into Small Heath nicely, even making some friends along the way. Esme Lee-Shelby was one of those friends. When the two of you met, there was an instant connection. Both reminded the other of home, which helped with the homesickness both women tended to feel now and then. Being friends with Esme meant you were around the other Shelby’s, particularly at the family’s company headquarters. You most hung around the betting shop when it was not too busy and when Tommy was not around. You were not naïve to see that the man was not too fond of you for some reason.

Arthur and John would tell you not to pay too much mind to Tommy and explain that he was under a lot of stress.

“Tommy means well, love. He will come around eventually,” John reassured you one day while visiting Esme.

“It is because he likes you, and that probably scares him,” Esme would say, but you merely scoffed at the idea.

“I can admit that Tommy is cute, but he is not my type. He is too frigid. The guy is always so serious. Plus, I can tell he cannot stand the sight of me,” you replied, but Esme waved off your concerns.

“Trust me, Tommy will eventually come around to the point where he will seek out your presence because he will crave it. I have a feeling about it, and I’m never wrong,” assured Esme.

On another day at the betting shop, you stopped by; however, no one was around except for Aunt Polly. At first, the woman intimidated the hell out of you but soon saw the wonderfulness she possessed. She did not take shit from anyone, particularly the men who stopped by the betting shop. She kept everyone in line, including her nephews. You saw how Tommy would confide in Polly on specific business matters whenever the two murmured amongst each other.

“Where is everyone?” you asked, looking around the empty betting shop.

“Slow day,” Polly said, taking a sip of tea and reading a book with her feet up on one of the desks. “John and Esme are currently preoccupied with activities involving the expansion of their family if you know what I mean.”

“Well, that is…wonderful,” you stated sarcastically. “Will you tell Esme I stopped by and that I will see her tonight at The Garrison?”

Before you could leave, Polly called out to you to stay for a little while.

“Come sit with me, let’s talk,” Polly commanded and pointed to a seat for you to take.

You followed her orders and took a seat across from the older woman. She passed you one of her black cigarettes, and you happily accepted. The nicotine of the black cigarette had a pleasant taste to it, you noted.

“So, Tommy informs me that you are part of the Young clan in Cambridgeshire. I’ve met the Youngs; they are good people. Very dependable when one needs help. However, my nephew also shared that you aren’t a Young by blood, is that right?” Polly questioned the other woman.

“That is correct. My mother and father found me when I was a baby, so I am very much a Young,” you replied earnestly.

“Oh, that I can see. Especially in how you have taken it upon yourself to help out most of the Small Heath residents. From menial tasks such as making sure Ms. Wallace gets her weekly groceries, to assisting Old Man Pete and his family in finding their lost dog, and even going so far as to help out at the Yard with Charlie and Curly.”

“I only help with horses. I don’t do any of the moving of equipment or anything if that is what you or Tommy are worried about,” you reassured Polly.

“I wasn’t worried, but of course, Tommy was. You put him on edge,” said Polly with a smirk.

You took another drag of the cigarette, “That is not my fault that your nephew has his qualms about my mere presence in this place. All I am doing is trying to make a living, like everyone else. He has no reasons to doubt my intentions. I am not here to bewitch anyone or partake in any criminal activity that would undermine the Peaky Blinders. I may not have a proper education, but I am not stupid. I don’t have a death wish.”

“No, you don’t have a death wish. You have good intentions that Tommy will see that eventually. He always comes around. Someday, he will come to you because he will need your help,” shared Polly. “I can see things, my dear. I have the gift. I know why you are here. You are looking for your soulmate. Is that correct?”

You let out a sigh, “It is one of the reasons why I am here, yes. I only want to know who this man is; I don’t expect to fall for him. The idea of soulmates doesn’t ring true for me. It is a fabled concept.”

Polly let out a laugh, “Do not be so pessimistic, my girl. You have already met him, but I will let you figure out who it is; that is the fun part.”

As you were about to ask Polly for clarification on what she was talking about, in walked Tommy and stopped when he saw the two of you sitting together.

“Speaking of the devil, here he is, the man of the hour,” teased Polly, at least that is what you thought she was doing. She gave you a wink and put out her cigarette.

“Miss Young,” Tommy stiffly greeted you.

“Mr. Shelby, nice to see you.” While you may tend to put Tommy on edge, he did the same to you, but you were determined to make friends with the man.

When Tommy didn’t reply to your polite phrase, you knew it was your time to leave the premises. “Thank you for the cigarette and the chat, Polly.”

“Any time, dear,” Polly smiled and waved as you exited the betting shop. She saw that you did not say goodbye to Tommy, which she could not blame you.

While Tommy took off his cap and coat, Polly got up from the table and lightly smacked the back of the head. The move completely caught Tommy by surprise as he turned to face his aunt.

“What the hell, Pol!” yelled Tommy, perplexed.

Polly merely shook her head. “Do not have any manners, Thomas?”

“What are you on about?”

With a shake of her head, Polly grabbed her teacup and took a sip. The tea was long since cold. “She is a nice girl, Tommy. Why can’t you see that when everyone else can? What is it about his girl that has you so afraid?”

Lighting his cigarette, Tommy let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Everywhere he turned, he saw you. Not only at The Garrison, Uncle Charlie’s Yard, or the streets of Small Heath, he saw you in his dreams. The dreams where you were present brought him peace. He felt protected, which unnerved him since he was not used to the feeling of being safe, not after France.

“She’s me, Pol,” answered Tommy.

“What do you mean she is you, Tom?”

“Before the war. She was exactly how I was before everything changed,” Tommy replied honestly.

“Well, that should be viewed as a good thing. You two match. Why so cold towards this girl?” Polly asked again.

Tommy turned towards his aunt to bluntly say, “Because if I get close to her, then I will ruin her. I don’t think I could live with myself with that thought. I’m damaged goods, Pol. Nothing can save me. No one can save me.”

“Tommy, that is not true,” remarked Polly. “I still see the good in you.”

Tommy got up and headed towards his office, “Then you are wasting your time.”

Later that night at The Garrison, you were filling up drinks and talking to your regular patrons.

Noting was too out of the ordinary, except for the absence of the Shelby brothers. Typically, they would make an appearance, but not tonight.

“Harry, since it is rather slow tonight, do you mind if I head out early?” you asked.

“Sure, no problem, but do you mind coming in early?” Harry asked, which you agreed to do.

You waved goodbye to Harry and left the premises. You bundled your coat higher to offset the cold air and walked towards Charlie’s Yard. Curly mentioned they were getting a new horse for the races, and you wanted to see it. You loved horses, always have since you were a kid.

As you walked down the street, you saw the Shelby brothers exiting the betting shop.

Arthur called out your name, and you turned around to greet him. He asked where you were headed to and answered the Yard. When all three gave you a look, you told them that you wanted to see the new horse Curly kept boasting on about and, therefore, needed to see for yourself.

“I have to see for myself,” you commented.

Before John and Arthur were about to wave goodbye, Tommy spoke up, “I’ll walk you.”

His announcement took his brothers and you by surprise. “Come again?” you asked. You wanted to make sure you heard him correctly.  

“I said I’d walk you to Charlie’s.”

Before you could as Tommy ‘why’ he told his brothers, he would see them later and motioned for you to follow him. The walk to the Yard was quiet, with neither knowing if they should saying anything. Both opted that awkward quietness was probably the best outcome.

You bit the bullet as the quietness was beginning to drive you mad and spoke up. “Where did you find this horse? Curly mentioned you were going to train him for the races.”

“I got him at an auction, and I won’t be training him. I enlisted someone else to do the training to get him the horse ready for Epsom,” explained Tommy, lighting a cigarette. He offered you one as well, but you declined.

Finally arriving at the Yard, you continued to follow Tommy towards where the horse was residing. When you caught sight of the dapple-gray horse, you immediately picked up your speed to get a better look.

“He is beautiful, Curly,” you professed while rubbing your hand across its muzzle. The horse responded positively to you as it licked your hand. “Does he have a name?”

“No name, as of yet,” it was Tommy who spoke up to answer you. While you continued to pet the horse, Tommy quietly stood next to you. He reached over and began stroking the horse’s mane.

“May Carleton is expecting us to bring the horse for her to train in the coming days ahead, we need to get him ready for transport, Charlie,” declared Tommy while continuing to pet the horse. He then walked over to his uncle as the two men began to talk about how to transport the horse.

“It is a shame this horse has to leave,” you said to Curly, who quickly agreed.

When Charlie called Curly over to him, it left you alone with the horse. As you continued to pet the horse’s muzzle, slowly and softly, you placed your head against his, with no objection. The horse remained calm in your presence.

“Zhan le Devlesa tai sastimasa,” you whispered to the horse.

“Go with God and in good health,” translated Tommy as he stood next to the horse once again. “He’ll be fine, Ms. Young. This horse is going to be taken care of; I will make sure of that, I promise.”

You looked over at Tommy and smiled at him, “Oh, I know, Mr. Shelby. Pyramus knows you will make sure he is in good hands.”

“Pyramus?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s his name. Pyramus. It is a mythological name meaning ‘fire.’ It fits him perfectly, don’t you think?”

At that moment, Tommy was taken back by your attentiveness of his horse. He was impressed by how you showed so much care for the creature. He saw how your smile brightened your face and appeared to stir something inside of himself. Something he thought was long gone, his heart.

“Yes, it is. Perfect,” Tommy expressed, but he was no longer talking about the horse.

It was at that moment, where Tommy knew he wanted you.

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

What do you think of JM’s updated Spotify? I don’t normally read into things, but his song choices makes me sad. “At my worst” “I can’t be myself (excuse me while I cry) & “When was it over?” With the lyrics “was it that fight we didn’t have when I came in? Was it the first time you saw me drunk? Second time I said I’m sorry?” It sounds like a replay of Vmins dumpling incident and it worries me. JM looked off in the recent live, almost sad and pouty lately. Do you think I’m over analyzing it?

Admin 1: The short answer to this would be: yes, you are over analyzing things.

The longer one would be that, for example, Pink Sweat$'s At My Worst isn't a sad song, it's actually the exact opposite. It's a very cute and romantic song. Just look at the first verse:

Can I call you baby? Can you be my friend? Can you be my lover up until the very end? Let me show you love, oh, no pretend Stick by my side even when the world is caving in, yeah

I'd actually argue this kinda sounds like a mixture between Sweet Night and Friends when it comes to the sentiment of those words. I’ve seen some people even claim that this will replace Ed Sheeran’s romantic songs that have so far been used at every wedding ever because of how sweet it is.

Then we have Justin Bieber’s I can’t be myself which I believe you probably only looked at the title and jumped to conclusions because, again, this isn’t a sad song either. The lyrics are more about how Justin (or whoever) cannot be himself when you (I’d guess he likely means his wife) isn’t by his side, thus wanting to say that he is happiest and most himself when they are together. It’s sweet and lovely, not sad.

I could travel any place But without you, it's just runnin' around (Girl, I'm just runnin' around) They could open Heaven's gates But without you, I'm just stuck in the clouds (Yeah, yeah)

Lastly, from the songs you specifically highlighted, is Sasha Sloan’s when was it over? which yes, I’ll admit this one is a sad song about not being able to let go even though you know there is nothing left. The song though has a very calm sound, something you’d listen to in the evening, and something I could see both him and Tae like listening to, not because Jimin relates to the lyrics but because it’s simply a pretty song.

On my current playlist I have Stromae’s Formidable, a song about a heartbroken man getting wasted after a breakup. I’ve neither gotten my heart broken nor am I sad and yet I still love this song because it’s just a really good song. Sometimes that’s the only reason we need to listen to a song. Nothing more to it.

All that to say that I don’t believe there is any correlation whatsoever to be made here, especially since Tae and Jimin look more than happy in recent months (did you notice Jimin happily smiling at Tae during their most recent performance of Butter for Colbert at the beginning of their subunit dance?) and there is nothing that could indicate to us that something went wrong between them, or that Jimin could be sad or something bad going on with him. I mean, look at JKs playlist and the fact that he has Billie Eilish’s Your Power on it, applying your thought process, does that mean that JK is trying to tell us he went through something similar to Billie? That he is sad? Or do you think he simply recommended that song because he likes Billie’s music? The last one seems the most likely, doesn’t it?

So, to sum it all up, there is absolutely no need to worry, seriously.

Admin 2: In the evenings, when it's very quiet and my big city has fallen asleep, I really enjoy listening to Sweet Night. I also like to go back to 4 O'Clock from time to time (although I know I will cry). Does that mean I missed my chance in life to be with my beloved? No and no again! I've never been in a situation like this, I wasn't unhappy or "fragily" in love, no one abandoned me or cheated on me. I listen to these songs because I love them. They match the mood of the evening and calm me down despite the sad lyrics and let me fall asleep peacefully.

I am a person who listens to a lot of songs from the past; Songs that remind me of situations, remind me of years of studying, enable me to relive certain situations.

Dear Anon, thank you very much for your question (confession), but I admit that I see it as "looking for some kind of backdoor" so to speak, a way to create a loophole and deny everything after all.

I don't know who you are, I don't know if you really are a Vminnie, but I think you are clinging to any possibility of a situation to undermine the reality or existence of Vmin. That's how I see it, if I offend you, I apologize. The more we get new materials about Tae and Jimin every day, like them being cute in the McDonald's behind the scenes, the more such "sad thoughts" we get sent to us through asks every day.

Firstly, I'm not sure if Jimin (and Taehyung) is fluent enough in English to capture the accuracy of the lyrics and understand its message. Of course, you can translate it, but for that to happen first the song has to catch your attention, and usually it's the melody and the overall feeling of a song that does it, and not the lyrics. And that is the point!

I think Jimin picked these tracks because he simply likes them. Perhaps he first paid attention to the melodies and the mood and only then understood the lyrics sometime later.

A lot of people (including me) hear some kind of song instead of another because they are intrigued by the melody or the association with a particular situation. The mood that fits the moment, the weather, the time of day or many other things which lead us to choose this song and not another.

Maybe Jimin and Taehyung were driving at night and listening to the song on the radio, maybe they were in a romantic mood back then, just having dinner together or taking a half bath together. Ha ha, I know I am deceiving and romanticizing what I am saying to reflect the vast possibilities and reasons why you listen to music like this and no other. Jimin putting together this list of songs for his spotify playlist doesn't mean he listens to it all the time, every day, but that he has the songs he likes on his list and chose the ones he wants to hear right now, or that he thought ARMY could like.

Of course, I'm sure he listens to very different songs during exercising than the one lying in bed before falling asleep. Maybe he's listening to this list, just like we hear the songs from BTS? We know individual words after repeating them several times, and we generally know (as we decide to read translations) what is going on in a particular song, but we don't understand all the words accurately. Not all of us are in the same situation as described in a particular song, but still we listen to it because we like it, because BTS sings it, because we are waiting for a solo from Suga etc. etc. etc.

For some time now we have been seeing (I see) Vmin happy, even very happy, as if "after the night the day came and after the storm came peace" (by the way, these are the words of one of my favorite songs), I have the impression that Vmin have finished fighting all their fights and they are just happy now, finally. Taehyung looks like a million dollars, he's literally glowing and far more lively than he was a year ago.

To him, Jimin is like smooch like butter and someone he likes the most. Taehyung is a handsome and hot chingu for Jimin who he also likes him the most as well. Tell me dear Anon, where is there room for fear and doubt in the love they share? Why and on what basis do you suspect that Vmin has broken up, or is having problems, or that either of them is unhappy? Besides, if one of them has an off day or is simply tired after a packet schedule and thus doesn't look as animated, why is that immediately read as "Jimin and Tae aren't together anymore" or "they are drifting apart" when chances are far more likely that it has nothing to do with their bond? Based on the playlist, or based on Vlive, or maybe based on both of these events, what is the correlation?

I've seen the Vlive. To tell the truth, I didn't see a sad and pouty Jimin there. Instead, I saw Taehyung smiling and content, and Jimin smiled and admired Tae's new hairstyle. I watched the latest BTS interviews. Vmin stared at each other, Jimin stared at Tae with a big smile that only grew in size and the two communicated with their eyes.

Jimin caressed Taehyung's back/butt in the Butter MV making Episode and said there’s butter here (though it wasn’t translated in the subs).

In the McD ad they were together and standing next to each other, even with Jimin resting his head on Tae's shoulder and then Jimin eating Tae's chicken nugget from his hand.

Honestly, I don't know what else Vmin would have to do to keep people from doubting their bond and happiness. They have shown us so much, I think they have reached the limit of what can be said without saying it bluntly.

Most importantly, this is a very interesting situation as we have never had as much "dubious news/content" (not meant negatively at all) as we have now after Taehyung's interview with his ‘confession’/clarification about Sweet Night. To me it smells a bit like someone wants to cause fear or plant the seed of doubt, or be like a trojan horse with the underlying idea of course being that "well...we must be wrong" even though there’s no reason for us to believe/think that.

[ohnotoomanyfandoms]

Let's talk about those two chapters!!!!!

You ask, we deliver! Let’s talk about my theories from the two preview chapters of Chain of Iron, shall we? So many thoughts, I’ll have to be brief with each one. Feel free to ask questions on anything I don’t mention or clarifications on points I do touch. 

1. Belial. Who is he possessing? James would be so obvious it’s cheap. The fun plot twist would be Lucie, who complained in Chain of Gold that she’s also Belial’s granddaughter. It would go in perfect irony with Lucie’s line to Grace “I don’t want to do evil things” while she runs around being possessed by a Greater Demon killing innocent mundanes (and probably Shadowhunters too) in London. However, as marvelous as this sounds, it appears Belial is possessing a male body (unless it’s just written to mislead us). In that case, my next best guess (and something I DO NOT want happening) would be Matthew. He isn’t a descendant of Belial’s, but he is magically linked to James via the parabatai rune and bond, so that could be a loophole. What made me think that? At the Devil’s Tavern, Matthew wishes James gone for a second, and James ends up in the shadow realm, Belial’s realm, for the first time in four months.

2. There is something FISHY going on with Hypatia and the Helle Ruelle celebrating Lilith. Well, not really that. What stinks is that Cassandra would feel the need to explain Lilith’s history with the angels to us again and that Cordelia would spend another entire paragraph going over the ceremony performed when Shadowhunter babies are born. We know this already. She’s saying it for our benefit and for a reason. Are the warlocks hiding a Shadowhunter baby? Or alternatively, WHO DIDN’T GET THE CEREMONY? This could also be the answer to our previous question, because we know that “unbaptized” babies can be possessed by demons (like Jace after his rebirth in TMI) so it could solve the mystery of Belial’s possession without needing a blood relation. Or... WILL LILIHT MAKE AN APPEARANCE IN COI/COT?

3. Cordelia will go see Wayland the Smith in this book. When? Well, when Cortana starts burning her, of course. She’ll try to find answers everywhere, consulting books, Jem, even friendly warlocks perhaps, but eventually she’ll have to ask that faerie to take her to Wayland, Cortana’s legendary maker, and make a deal. NEVER PROMISE ANYTHING TO FAERIES, DAISY! That will be a mess. 

4. I think the Gracelet doesn’t work in the shadow realm, which confirms that Belial didn’t cast the spell on the bracelet, because surely his magic would work in his own kindgom? James was thinking of the wedding in the tone he would under the effect of the Gracelet, and in the shadow realm he suddenly has a rather romantic view of Cordelia, like an avenging angel or “a goddess captured in a painting: Liberty or Victory leading the people.” Something to keep an eye on.

5. As we know, Grace and Christopher are supposed to get married, according to the misleading family tree. We don’t know if that will end up happening, but I suppose this is how they could grow closer: we know Lucie has been asking Kit for ingredients for their spells. When Lucie inevitably pulls away from the agreement with Grace because she doesn’t yet want to do full-on necromancy (good call, I hope she sticks by it but I doubt she will), Grace will need to ask Christopher directly - she can’t risk being seen at the Shadow Market, given her mother’s history, so he’s her best option. 

6. Filomena di Angelo will be the name of the Italian Shadowhunter, I’m 99.9999999% sure at this point. Am I happy? No. Speaking as an Italian myself, Cassie couldn’t have picked a worse name. (Yes, it makes me smile that she and Rick Riordan exchange character names, but this name still doesn’t sound right or fitting. Happy to elaborate more in another post if you’re interested!)

7. As I’ve said before, to the delight of our Jordelia hearts, James has no intention whatsoever of cheating on Daisy or breaking his promise to her by seeing Grace. Unfortunately, he won’t be able to help it because Grace’s spell will compel him to go see her at one point. Sad angst and a loss of trust will ensue. UNLESS the magic of the MARRIAGE RUNES is stronger than the Gracelet and can counteract it. That would be dope. But that would also mean a win for us, and it’s only the second book... 

8. The Lucie/Jesse content was too on the nose. it’s only the first two chapters and it’s 1903, stop flirting, goddammit. Apart from that, Lucie is being too reckless. She’ll get in trouble soon.

9. Matthew is going to behave with Cordelia. He would and will never put her in a compromising position or one where she would have to choose between him and James. The “”””kiss”””” was accidental, Cassie said as much in a Tumblr answer. I love their friendship, it’s one of my favorites. But trust me, it’s not going to go anywhere beyond that. Matthew may wish, but he will never act. He likes pursuing loves that are “hopeless”, it’s said as much in the text. 

10. ANNA WAS TOTALLY FLIRTING WITH CORDELIA ON THE EVE OF HER WEDDING TO ANNA’S COUSIN, SCANDALOUS

11. Thomas and Alastair will finally speak at the wedding. Not make up yet, but have a conversation. I just hope Charles doesn’t magically come back from Paris to make an appearance.

12. THE NEXT CHAPTER WE READ WILL BE THE JORDELIA WEDDING (!!!) and all the adults will be there so we’ll see all our TID darlings as well. I am prepared to bet anything that Brother Zachariah will officiate the wedding. I cannot wait.

13. What the fùck was up with the reverse mermaid???????????

Need more analysis or clarifications on some points? Want help believing in Mucie and keeping your faith in Jordelia? WE’VE GOT YOU. Send me all your questions. I would prefer non-anonymous ones, so I can notify you! 

[thefirstknife]

I keep seeing this brought up in your posts with o14 and just want to point this out: just because someone doesn’t know/say they’re being abused doesn’t mean they aren’t. I myself didn’t know the emotional/verbal abuse I endured until after the fact and this really makes me uncomfortable when you use that point. Please understand that it is very much a thing that happens to those (not all cause everyone is different) that are abused.

You’ve brought up an important point that I am very well aware of. I am glad you sent this ask in this way and I want to address why I don’t use it as an argument.

Under read more, warning for talk about abuse:

I specifically don’t want to entertain this part of the discourse because abuse is about power dynamics. The abuser is usually someone with more power over the other person and the abused is usually someone who cannot escape the situation due to that power imbalance. And the abused person often either doesn’t have the capacity to understand the power imbalance or isn’t capable of asking for help or escaping the situation because the abuser is in some way threatening them. It doesn’t have to be a direct and physical/vocal threat (though it often is), it can be implied, but the imbalance in power dynamics is essential to identify an abusive situation. This is why abuse always features an age imbalance, economic imbalance (employer-employee or a household where only one person works and has control over all the money), family imbalance (parent-child) and so on. The abuser is the one who must have power and control over the abused. 

There is no such thing between Saint and Osiris. In no way are they ever presented as one being above the other. They are equals in every single way: age, experience, position within their respective jobs and so on. Saint does not fear Osiris, nor does Osiris have any power or control over him. Saint isn’t afraid of talking back to him and challenging him. Saint isn’t isolated from others and he isn’t afraid or incapable of asking for help (from YW, Ikora, Sagira previously...). For that reason, I cannot accept that there’s a possibility of Saint being abused but just not knowing about it. From all the available lore that I’ve poured through to compile all of the known and documented interactions between the two, there is no indication that Osiris holds any power or control over Saint in order for this relationship to be classified as abusive. 

Some people said that Osiris is being abusive by “withholding emotions” from Saint, which can definitely a part of an abusive relationship. However, I do not believe that Osiris is withholding emotional availability; this argument only popped up after Sagira’s death and their bickering in the Hangar (where Sagira was mentioned). It is explained numerous times by many different characters that Osiris does not respond to grief well. Ikora knows it, Saint knows it. This is not an abusive trait per se, as one cannot really control how they handle that sort of extreme grief. One could even argue that Saint was the abusive one in this situation by bringing up Sagira before Osiris gave him permission and a green light that he’s okay with discussing it. Same thing happened when Crow brought it up. However, I will not claim that Saint or Crow are abusing Osiris because there’s no other evidence to it. The situation is complex and not just easily boiled down to abuse. As someone who has been through abusive situations, I believe it’s reductive to call one bump in the road as abuse. It makes it harder to recognise actual abuse, both for victims and onlookers. 

Of course, maybe there’s something in the background that we don’t know about. After all, we don’t have every single Saint/Osiris interaction written out in the lore. However, considering what we do have and what we do know about these two characters, I can say for a fact that there is no power imbalance between them and Saint is not the type of a person who would sit back in fear of anyone and not know about being abused, definitely not by Osiris. There is simply no evidence. Of course, if someone just doesn’t vibe with the situation due to a personal experience and the whole Saint/Osiris argument that happened most recently in the lore is triggering for them, that is something I can respect. It’s personal, you can’t control what triggers your trauma. But that’s a personal experience, not an objective read on their relationship. People have been adamant about saying that the relationship is objectively abusive, which it is not. If it’s upsetting for personal reasons, I would absolutely recommend not interacting with the upsetting content and would implore people to tag their content appropriately.

In my original post from back a month ago or so, I specifically addressed how people tend to claim Osiris is abusive over Saint without backing it up with anything and essentially vilifying one of them (Osiris) while completely infantilising the other (Saint). It’s harmful to mlm, especially to mlm of colour because of how Osiris is treated by the community. It’s a reductive view of a long-term mlm relationship that spans centuries. The time span is quite literally incomprehensible. 

People also never bring up Saint’s behaviour towards Osiris, such as pushing a sensitive topic in public and pressing him on it when he’s clearly not ready. These are also signs of abuse. Another sign of abuse are also threats of physical violence which Saint does in the Devil’s Ruin quest dialogue when he tells Osiris to “get off this line” to which Osiris responds with “make me” and then Saint quips with “you would not survive that.” Nobody brings that up as abuse. And they shouldn’t! It’s clear that this isn’t a serious threat. And it should be clear that one quarrel over a traumatic topic isn’t a sign of a toxic relationship. Saint also greets Shaxx with the line “I always hated you, brother” and then they both laugh. Saint is very clearly often joking in this way and people recognise it as not serious. Osiris should be given the same benefit of the doubt when he retreats into himself over indescribable grief; he’s not emotionally manipulating Saint, he is grieving in the only way he knows how.

I find it highly suspect that this whole discourse only started once the pairing was confirmed as canonical. People have been shipping them way before that and with way less information available and there’s never been any discourse about how Osiris is actually abusing Saint in this relationship. I just find it really suspicious that a mlm relationship featuring a man of colour gets labelled as abusive from the side of that man of colour specifically, only after we’ve received the information that it’s canon. It’s an incredibly common pattern in fandom spaces when a fandom favourite (in this case Saint) gets into a canon relationship with a character that’s easy to be prejudiced against. Even if that prejudice is unconscious, it’s still prejudice and it’s painfully obvious to anyone who has ever been in fandoms for as long as me (or longer). There are also literally scientific studies on this so I’m not just talking about my own experience. 

Without any evidence of abuse and no imbalance in power dynamics present between these two characters, I can’t see how someone can come to a conclusion that Osiris abuses Saint after they’ve argued once “on screen,” especially after Saint himself explains what the situation is about. He eloquently puts his reasoning into words when Amanda asks him if there’s trouble and also promises to reach out for help if he needs it. I don’t like the trend of jumping to a conclusion, especially when people who do it are highly inconsistent about it (most recent one being the person who claims Osiris is abusive, but also claims that both Osiris and Saint are grown men who can handle themselves without our help; this is a contradictory statement, as Osiris cannot be abusive to Saint if Saint can handle himself and can just leave if he wants to).

I apologise if the discourse about this whole thing is making people uncomfortable. I should’ve addressed my reasoning behind it earlier, in order to make sure that everyone is on the same page. I should’ve also tagged it with a warning for talk of abuse, but no one else did and I didn’t think to correct it, which is definitely something I should’ve done. People started talking about how Osiris is abusive and toxic without thinking that people going into the tags might be upset by it and unfortunately I didn’t think of it either.

I hope this explains it adequately. It’s a long post but I didn’t want to hold back on any of the details because this is an important topic. If there are any points that anyone believes are not properly explained, feel free to ask for further clarification.

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 19 - Holy Ground

Masterlist; Chapter 18

Summary: In the days before the mission in Tallinn, you and Neil have a few conversations to clear the air of doubts. Only, the mission itself proves to be a disruption...

Warnings: Swearing; mild violence.

Author’s Notes: Here we go, my favourite mission (and favourite Neil outfit too). This is only part one of the Tallinn action because so much happens... as you’ll see. I’m sorry. I really am. Hope you enjoy and please leave me feedback if you feel like it!

Song mentioned is: ‘Holy Ground’ by Within Temptation (I’ll share it in a post later but basically listen to it after reading and you’ll know why I’m obsessed)

Edit is courtesy of my amazing friend @sh3tani​ once again (ilysm and thanks for everything 💕)

The upcoming days were busy. You have been assigned the task of getting hold of some of the vehicles and artillery TP wanted for the heist in Tallinn. It was difficult, not only because it is actually rather hard to acquire a fire truck with no records left from the transaction, but also because you barely had any clue what you were actually doing. And so, most of the time, you were sat at the dining table in the flat, calling various shady people Neil gave you contacts to. Sometimes, a tea would appear in front of you, courtesy of the other team members thoroughly apologizing for how they handled the ‘alley situation’.

It seemed like your late-night walk and the cold treatment you gave everyone (including Neil) for the next 24 hours afterward worked. The jokes have ended, and contrition took their place, usually in the form of extreme helpfulness, random acts of kindness, and, in Neil’s case, a break from teasing. At least for a short while.

The only development you were not so sure of was the fact that the whole team decided to label your relationship. Not just any label but dating, verging on a couple. And that was rather terrifying. It struck you especially the night before when you have minded your own business in the kitchen. Watching over the pasta boiling on the stove, you listened to the plans made by Ives. He was trying to settle on the best way to track Neil during the heist when he suddenly turned to you with a question:

“Has your boyfriend told you what kind of car they are going for in the end?” the neutral tone made you skim over the term at first.

But then your brain caught up. What?! You almost toppled over the whole pot of pasta onto the floor when trying to drain it. Fuck. Ives was staring at you quizzically, as though confused about your current state.

“I… Who?” you stammered out the question, knowing it will only make everything worse.

“Neil” Ives grinned, “Unless you’ve gone for an open relationship and there’s another boyfriend involved”

“Christ, please stop” sighing, you tried to calm down just enough to function “I believe he’s going for a BMW, don’t know what series but something fast enough just in case there was a chase” triumphantly, you poured the sauce over the noodles.

“I’ll need to give him a call about it” Ives smacked his tongue thoughtfully.

“Feel free” using the opportunity, you grabbed the cutlery and escaped into your room.

Boyfriend? Now that was something to cause anxiety. Because despite everything that happened, all the things you have told Neil and got in return, you had no clue what you were supposed to be. Not really. Yes, sometimes you let yourself entertain the idea that maybe you were together, maybe he was your lover. But… was he? Could he ever be that?

With those thoughts occupying your mind, you only managed to last until afternoon the next day before giving in. After failing to contact a car dealer for the fifth time and realising that you have completely messed up the route plan due to forgetting about important details, you closed the laptop. It was hard to think when all your brain did was give reasons for why Neil would never actually want to be with you. To summarise: you were not enough, naïve, hopeless, and dumb enough to think that someone this incredible could think about you seriously. Stifling the sudden desire to breakdown and give up on everything, you dialed his number. He picked up almost instantly.

“Yes, my love?” your heart clenched at the nickname.

“Hi… um… Do you have a moment?” you cringed at the awkwardness.

“For you? Always”

Maybe, on another day, that would have made you smile. But that was not that kind of a day.

“Neil, I’m serious,” sighing, you rested your head on the cold wall behind your bed.

“What’s wrong?” his tone switched from playful to concerned.

Okay… now there’s no turning back.

“I’ve just been thinking...” you started, debating on the best way to breach the topic.

“Oh no”

Damn him. You cracked a small smile, knowing that was the intention. You could almost picture him at this moment, sat in some absolutely strange position in the armchair, nothing but long legs and ruffled hair. You did have it pretty bad.

“Shut up” you took a deep breath and blurted out “It’s probably stupid, and feel free to ignore this but... what even are we?”

There it is. Your whole existence hanged on his reply. But, of course, Neil needed more clarification than that…

“How do you mean?” his careful tone made your heart rate elevate.

The result was a string of sentences you shot out with the speed of a machine gun.

“Because everyone here assumes we’re dating. And Ives called you my boyfriend last night, and I don’t... I don’t know if that’s what’s going on and-”

“Okay, calm down,” he interrupted your rant “Take a deep breath” he waited until he could hear you exhale to continue “What do you want this to be? Because we’re the only people who have a say about it” the diplomatic tone made you frown.

But then maybe he just wanted to get your point of view before saying anything substantial… Trouble was you had no clue. Picking on a loose thread on your sweater, you sighed:

“I don’t know” maybe this was the right time to give him another piece of mind?  “I always hated labels because when you name something, it becomes real” you admitted, letting yourself slide down onto the pillows.

Nothing could hurt you there. Apart from potential rejection from the likely love of your life. Basically, fml, as the kids say.

“What about good things?” his question caught you off guard.

“Well, yeah, but… once there’s a couple, then there can be a break-up” the insecurity had an answer for that too.

Your cheeks heated up upon saying the word. Because even that felt like a step too far. Like maybe you were clingy. Obnoxious. Someone he could want to get rid of as quickly as possible. Before you decided to back out of the conversation, he replied:

“That’s a rather bleak way of looking at things” it was still that thoughtful tone.

A burden then.

“I know” you groaned, frustrated with yourself.

But the next thing he said was rather surprising…

“I’ll need to work on making you more optimistic. Not because I don’t like you the way you are, but because I want you to realise how wrong you are sometimes” the conviction and practical implications of the statement made you speechless.

The future tense. The admission that he did like you, with your countless issues and overbearing anxiety. It couldn’t be, could it? Neil took your stunned silence as permission to say more:

“From my side, let me say that dating doesn’t quite cut it because it implies not being sure... And…” despite yourself, your ears perked up, wanting to know what he meant.

“Yeah?” you prodded, trying to toe that precarious line between curiosity and fear of rejection.

“I’m not really in the trial stages anymore. Don’t think I’ve ever been” he clearly wanted to tell you more but was holding back.

Maybe it was for the better. Before you could think about a response to that, Neil added:

“Basically, we don’t have to use any labels. We’re just us” the simplicity of that statement broke through your resolve, making tears well up “Me and you. We know best what that implies and no one else matters” quietly, you sobbed, and he laughed before choosing to put that final nail in the metaphorical coffin “You’re my love, and that’s the only nickname I need” Neil sounded happy, as though despite your worries, he wanted to say that “I can be your idiot, as long as I’m yours” the punchline came with an audible smug smile.

Oh my god. You laughed, with tears still silently falling down your cheeks and heart hammering in your chest. He was impossible. Absolutely impossible. Suddenly asking that crucial question was not that scary. Because maybe today was the day when would tell you, without alcohol or worries prompting the confession. Taking the plunge, you spoke:

“Neil, do you-”

“Yes, I do,” he interrupted you with an answer.

“I haven’t even asked the question” you frowned, unsure whether that kind of an answer was better than a confession.

Because, yes, he already said it once (almost twice), but both those have been anything but thoughtful. And your ever doubting brain was quick to use that fact against you.

“But I know the answer” he sounded certain.

Perhaps too certain.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to tell you over the phone” Neil sighed heavily on the other end “Listen, I have to go… but call me or text if you need to talk” he hesitated before adding, “No matter what I want you to remember what I said that night in London”

Oh… It was the first time any of you brought it up. You just assumed it was one of the things that just slipped out in an unguarded moment. You wanted it to be true, but then that was too risky. But maybe not…?

“I heard you” you whispered despite being alone in the room.

“I know” you could picture the soft smile he sometimes gave you “Goodbye, my love. Good luck with work” at the reminder of the piles of papers still waiting, you groaned, causing him to laugh.

“Will be needed since what you’ve assigned me is close to impossible” the change of the topic was dearly welcomed.

Grabbing the laptop again, you opened it up and felt all the motivation dissolve upon the sight of the route waiting to be planned. Coffee will be needed. And maybe whiskey too.

“I believe in you,” Neil broke your brooding with a comment, “And it’s not really me who assigned it” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, idiot” unable to stop the grin on your face, you ended the call.

So maybe it was worth calling… Even if only to learn that he was in fact yours. And that he did not mind your insecurity or moments of anxiety. Maybe all this had some more potential than heartbreak and tragedy? Ignoring all the thoughts, you focused on the workload. After all, someone had to get all those bloody vehicles on time for the boys to play with.

*** The closer it got to the day, you could feel the tensions rising within the team. Partially it was your own fault and the fact that you were nervous. The plan was vague enough. What you and Ives’ squad knew was that TP intended to take over the plutonium 241 on the move, specifically on the highway leading out of the city. For some reason, he needed a fire truck and a firefighter suit for that. You had no clue why, but you blamed it on the boyish dreams of being a firefighter. Sure they all had those.

Neil was simply the designated driver and mission coordinator, and you hoped that meant he would stay out of harm. As much as that was possible for an idiot like him. You were not allowed to meet to stop TP from getting suspicious, and so all you could do was rely on texts and daily phone calls to keep you from going insane. The downside of the situation was that you could not slap Neil when he said questionable things. Examples being referring to the heist car as sexy (“And what if I told that it’s not the BMW that’s sexy?” “I’d be flattered”) and calling you his girlfriend on the call with Ives. That second incident resulted in the squad leader acting all smug because he apparently ‘figured it all out’. He did not, but who were you to prove him wrong.

And so, you perfected the plan, finished all the assigned tasks, and waited on instructions concerning the day of the mission. When they came, the message was simple – sit on your assess and wait, just in case the Cavalry was needed. You did not specifically like that ‘waiting’ part. Especially since Ives began insisting that you do not actually join them in the field. In his mind, the safest place for you was the flat. Not being a part of the squad and not having enough experience were the main factors acting against you. And you hated the fact that he was right. That is until the evening before the mission when an unexpected text from TP came. You were busy trying to understand the rules of a strange competition show on the television when your phone buzzed. Expecting something nonsensical from Neil, you picked it up instantly. Only to get shocked by the number on display. The message was straightforward:

“Join the squad in the field in Tallinn. You must be there”

Right… When you were asking the universe for help, you did not expect that. But it was better than nothing.

Without a further ado, you got up and wandered over to Ives, who was sat with Wheeler and Michael at the table. Upon your approach, the Brit looked up:

“Don’t tell me you’ve got some last-minute changes from Neil” his blue eyes were hazed with concern.

“No, I’ve got something better” you passed him the phone and waited for a response.

The widened stare and arched eyebrow was the initial reaction.

“He wouldn’t have sent if it wasn’t important” you added, hoping to win the case.

“I don’t get it” Ives sighed heavily, leaning back in the chair.

He glanced at Michael, who nodded and left the room. You just assumed that the discussion was not meant for any ordinary squad member.

“Apologies for my language, but you’re not a bloody soldier, and it might get rough out there” Ives spoke up again after a beat “And I don’t want to fucking worry about your safety amidst all the other mess” he met your gaze warily.

It was a little embarrassing to be considered a burden. You flinched internally before trying another approach.

“I know, but Neil might need me” as soon as you said the words, Ives scowled.

Of course, that just sounded like a lovesick teenager fighting for a hopeless case. And you hated that. But his very next words triggered the remains of resolve.

“Frankly, darling-”

You broke into a laugh, knowing the quotation well.

“I swear, if you quote Gone with the Wind right now, I’ll do something stupid” as a warning, you grabbed hold of the knife lying on the table, making Wheeler snicker quietly “Please, let me go out there. I can track his GPS signal or something. And well, you know that I’ve got a good aim. It might count for something” pleading was not your forte either but at the end of the speech, Ives’ gaze softened.

Maybe? He sighed once again before leaning his forehead on the folded forearms on the table.

“If you get hurt, he’ll kill me” he muttered gloomily.

“You’re exaggerating” you bit back a dry chuckle.

“No, he’s not” your head snapped up at the sound of Wheeler’s voice “But I’ve got to back you here if TP sent that text, then it’s probably important” she looked at you with a small smile.

“Thank you” you grinned back, grateful for the support.

With the days spent among men almost exclusively, Wheeler’s company meant a lot. Soon she became the only person you were willing to discuss your worries with. Because she was not keen on cracking dumb jokes about your relationship and asked questions that did not only concern Neil. And that was a welcomed change.

“You really need to be careful though, because Neil cares about you. Which probably makes you the most important person on this squad” her voice broke through your thoughts.

You knew she meant well, but the statement still made your cheeks heat up. Because did he really care?

“Don’t. You’re making me all flustered” deciding you’ve had enough of the awkwardness you got up to fix a tea.

“Well, I’m only speaking the truth here” turning back to the table, you saw Wheeler shrug “The physics boy took his fancy upon you, and that’s no funny business” she grinned at your perplexed expression.

Briefly, you glanced at Ives, who seemed to have given up on fighting with you and instead was listening in to the conversation with a neutral facial expression. The kettle boiling was your cue to respond:

“Great” semi-aggressively, you threw the tea bag into the mug poured the water “Did he though?” you asked, not even looking at them or expecting an answer.

“Yep,” Wheeler stood up and gave you a quick reassuring shoulder squeeze.

“I’ve never seen him like this before” Ives added once you turned to face him again.

That tea could not brew any longer…

“Not even with…” you hesitated before adding quietly, “Alex?”

“Not quite,” the man gave you an enigmatic smile, only increasing your frustration “You’ve convinced me though. You’re coming with us. Just please, for the sake of my sanity, be careful out there” you resisted the urge to jump up in relief “Because I’d rather not deal with an angry Neil. He’s a pain in the ass enough” Ives added darkly before getting up and joining you by the kitchen counter.

Smiling, you finished the tea.

“Thanks. I’ll do my best” playfully, you nudged his shoulder with yours “You can always blame me though” picking up the mug, you turned towards the corridor.

“As though he’d care” Ives muttered at your back.

The sudden surge of confidence was surprising yet also inspiring:

“I’d make him care. There are some things even he can’t say no to”

The last thing you heard upon closing the door to the bedroom was Ives choking on water.

*** The Tallinn mission for you began with an early morning phone call from Neil. You got as far as getting out of bed after having been staring at the ceiling anxiously for the past three hours when the phone rang.

“Morning,” you muttered, stifling a yawn.

Espresso was certainly needed. Maybe two, before you would have to head out.

“Hey,” the soft tone felt like a mild punch “I’m glad you’re up already” Neil’s sleepy voice made you wish you could wake up together again.

There was always that slightly husky tinge to it, the way he lazily pronounced some words just because it was early still. So different from the enthusiastic overenunciation when he was preaching another messed up plan of his. Or the cheeky inflections he tended to use with you during banter. It was terrifyingly easy to get to know him that well because of how open he was with you.

“I couldn’t sleep. But it’s okay I’ll manage” you admitted, distracting yourself from the sudden thoughts “I didn’t tell you last night, but I got another text from TP… he wants me to join the squad today”

From the moment you have shut the bedroom door the previous night, you have debated calling Neil about it. But then he initiated another rather amusing texting exchange focusing on his fashion choices, and you felt bad disrupting the peace. It could wait. Not anymore. You held your breath until Neil responded with a simple question:

“Why?” he was careful, and you could not blame him for it.

You perched on the windowsill and looked out at the quiet cityscape. The streets were strangely empty for a weekday morning. Sighing, you answered in the best way possible:

“I don’t know, but Ives said yes after some coaxing, so I might see you out there” smiling despite yourself, you waited for his response.

Since recently you had to rely on phone calls, it became increasingly easy to determine his mood based on the tone of the reply. Or on the various nonverbal noises he sometimes made. Now there was a quiet hum proceeding the sentence. A surprise, mild confusion, and worry. Brilliant.

“As much as I’m happy we might meet… and that you can see me in that sexy car,” you rolled your eyes awaiting the point “Please, be careful. I need you safe”

It was not disappointing. You knew he did not intend it that way, and yet the anxiety fuelled brain was onto it instantly. I need you… safe. Unable to stop the comment, you muttered:

“Just safe, then”

“What?” any hope that he might have missed it dissolved with that single question.

Could he for once not listen to what you say? You know, like men tended to do. But then Neil was by no means an ordinary man.

“Nothing. Don’t mind me” the attempt at saving your dignity failed too.

“I thought it goes without saying that I do need you. And that I want you”

Oh god. At once, you wanted to smash your head into the wall and to kiss the bastard for being the way he was. Adding to that sentence, the mental image of his sheepish smile was enough to make your heart speed up. When the silence stretched, becoming awkward, you whispered a reply.

“It’s good to hear it sometimes” the coldness of the window glass cooled off your blazed cheeks, “Especially when I don’t actually believe it” he knew that by now, undoubtedly.

Here the nonverbal cue was a half-choked sigh. Annoyance. Frustration.

“You should. I don’t go around telling everyone that” Neil’s confident voice was trying to pull you back “And I certainly don’t have moments as we do with anyone else” at the implication, you felt flustered again.

Because there did not an hour go by without you thinking about what happened. The pull between you was startling at times. The absolute desire you felt. The way Neil knew exactly how to make you remember every second of every moment. With the memories flooding your brain, you could only utter a single question:

“Why me?”

It was curiosity. Because apart from that evening months ago when you first tried to make sense of your budding relationship, he never said why he cared about you. And you would never dare ask. But now, with everything that happened, it was worth trying. And Neil was willing to deliver:

“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because you’re the bravest, kindest, most beautiful person I know” you could only keep on listening with your mouth agape “You fascinate me, and I want to discover all that you’re willing to give me” he finished in a reverent whisper.

That was not what you expected to hear. Not now. Not ever. Speechless, you wondered whether maybe this time it was not a mistake to give your heart away. It was too late. He had everything but your body; that was just a matter of time.

“Neil, I…” this was all you could manage, afraid you would give away another confession.

“Well, you’ve asked,” he chuckled lightly and then asked, “Are you okay?” you could picture that crease between furrowed eyebrows.

“I suppose-” a loud knock on your door interrupted the sentence; it was time, “I think I should probably join them for the final briefing…” hesitantly, you jumped off the sill.

Only two of you could be interrupted during such an important conversation.

“Go, I won’t keep you. Believe me, though, when I say that I want nothing but to be with you. In every way possible” your breath hitched at the connotation behind the sentiment.

Jesus, this man…

“That’s rather mutual,” like a secret you passed it to him on a sigh “But only when you’re not an ass” that was a much-needed distraction for you both.

There was work to be done, after all. You could hear the commotion in the apartment rise in volume and strength.

“I’ll do my best then. Good luck, darling” you grinned at the nickname he was determined to use.

Darling, you could do with. It was better than the ‘love’ that always made you feel like you were just another one among many.

“Don’t do anything stupid I still owe you a few slaps… and a payback” you added the necessary suggestive tone to the last word.

The rest was up to him to figure out. Which he did, if the pleased laughed was anything to go by.

“I’m very much looking forward to all of those” you missed that smirk.

“You should. Bye, my idiot,” you debated saving his number as that in your phone.

Maybe it was the way forwards.

“My love,” laughing, you ended the call when he uttered the words just for the sake of it.

But then that was Neil’s essence – doing things just because. Or to get a reaction from you. And you would not have it any other way.

*** Only when sitting in that bloody SUV, you learned the true meaning of waiting. And how much you hated to do that. There was nothing to do apart from sweating in the protective gear and avoiding the awkward small talk others were susceptible to. The squad has cramped into two non-descript vehicles, and you being the so-called precious cargo, ended up in the same car with Ives who have sworn to protect you. Only, for the first half-hour, there was nothing to protect you from. Apart from anxiety, boredom, and frustration.

Your role was rather simple – follow Neil’s signal on the map to know where you might be needed should he call for backup. As much as you did enjoy the possibility of tracking his movements somehow, you did not appreciate the cheeky smile Ives had on his face when he gave you the job. Or the comment combined with it: “Well, he’s your boyfriend, it’s only fair you keep him on the metaphorical leash here”. That is how the small blinking dot on the map of Tallinn became your sole focus for the past hour. Just before everything kicked off, Neil radioed you with a simple message: The mission is about to start. Wait for further instructions.

Ever since your morning phone call and the revelations that came out, you only exchanged a few texts concerning the practicalities of the action. Despite the nerves, you did hope to see him in near future. Even if just to check whether what he said was true. Looking for a distraction from the sudden thoughts, you glanced at the screen again. They were near, on the main junction of the highway, heading towards the port. Your SUVs were parked underneath a small overpass, five minutes away in the current traffic conditions. Which proved to be convenient, as it turned out.

“Is he still following the set route?” Ives’s question brought you to the present moment.

“Yeah, they’re-” you glanced to double-check the exact location when you realised that something has changed.

The dot was not moving. It was still blinking, but clearly, they have stopped at a crossing. Traffic lights? Your brain somehow knew that it could not be that simple. You opened your mouth to voice the thoughts when the comm came alive on the dashboard with static crackling:

“We need back up here. ASAP”

“Roger that” Ives tossed you the radio “Ask him about the details”

Without waiting for more information, Michael fired up the SUV engine as Ives contacted the second vehicle.

“Neil” you spoke into the receiver “What happened?” you flinched at the louder noise from the radio.

Gunshots?

“We’ve been ambushed by Sator’s people. TP’s status unknown”

Bloody brilliant. Swallowing down the rising worries, you asked another question:

“How many people?” another gunshot pierced the silence.

“Not sure. They’ve gotten clean up orders” a strained breath from Neil told you how bad the situation was.

“Okay. We’ll be there soon” you glanced at the road ahead.

Still, 2 mins to go. Anxiety was threatening to overpower you at any moment. But now was not the time.

“Hurry up” Neil closed the channel with a final dose of static.

Fuck… Forcing a deeper breath, you could only watch as you got closer to him. The sheer thought of something happening to Neil was unimaginable. That was enough to trigger panic. So you pushed the idea to the back of your head, focusing on the distance disappearing.

There was no mistaking the fact that you have been led to the right place. Crashed cars, asphalt littered with glass shards and broken parts, gunshots piercing the air. The destination looked like a car pile-up from an action sequence. Frantically looking through the windows, you tried to spot that blonde head. To no avail. The SUV came to a sharp halt as the squad members began jumping out of the vehicle. Once everyone else disembarked, you moved to follow them, only to be stopped by Ives:

“You’re staying here. I can’t have you out in the shoot-out” his blue gaze was stern, hand blocking exit out of the car.

The idea that you were so close to Neil and could not see him was enough to make you angry.

“I can handle myself. And he’s-” you spit out the words in the face of the squad leader while trying to push him away.

“I said no. The conversation’s over” with a final glare, he stepped away and scanned the horizon for immediate danger “If someone approaches the car, you know what to do,” he threw as a parting remark and disarmed the rifle.

Fucking hell! Groaning in frustration, you kicked one of the seats. He was so close. You glanced at the device in your hand. He could not be further than behind the first line of crashed cars. Biting on your lip harshly, you quickly went over the options. One was to obey Ives and stay inside the bloody SUV like a well-behaved child everyone apparently took you for. No one seemed to care about the vehicles you parked on the outskirts of the action. Flinching at the further salve from the heavy artillery, you knew that the squad had joined the fray. You could be safe here… but… Taking a deep breath you knew there was no possibility you could stay away from the action. Not when Neil was there, potentially in danger. It was not possible to give up on someone that important just because you were told to. Christ…

Glancing through the windows again, you could see Sator’s people attempting to clear the place. The squad evidently attempted to push at them from one side, hoping to get a clean sweep that way. Then, just as you were about to go back to the internal crisis overwhelming your thoughts, you did a double-take. Surely not? You would recognize that hair colour everywhere. There he was attempting what was looking like a skirting manoeuvre to circle the mercenaries with the Cavalry on the opposite side. Only that left him completely uncovered, in the direct line of fire. Bloody idiot. The instinct to jump out and run to him kicked in. The only thing holding you back was the fact that you would disobey the orders. And leave the car unguarded. All the hesitation disappeared once the comm in the car crackled with static:

“Emergency assistance needed. ASAP” the tension in his voice made your pulse quicken.

The lack of response from the team made all the blood drain from your face. You could see him trying to hide behind some overturned car. The henchmen were near enough to get him with no problem.

That thought was all the convincing you needed. Swearing, you quickly pocketed the tracking device, adjusted your protective gear, and grabbed the gun. You have been offered a rifle (just in case), but you preferred the classic. At least it was something right?

In two leaps, you have covered the distance. With the team trying to get through the attack line on the other side, it was just you and Neil. You shot a round in the direction of the approaching merc, missing the target yet earning attention from the main object of your focus. His eyes met yours across the plane. You could see shock, worry, and something else there. Suddenly a salve whizzed past you. The bullets cutting through the air all around, shooting past your head and piercing the car behind. A strangled yell from Neil was a surprising reaction, yet you did not blink twice. He was all you could see. With a final surge through the field, you reached him. The pure fury and anguish in his eyes took you aback. Have you missed something? But there was no time to ask questions.

“Go, I’ll cover you” you whispered, looking at the approaching group of mercs.

Neil took an additional moment to stare at you as though he could not quite believe you were there. But then he jumped up, aiming the gun at the man closest to you. The same that undoubtedly attempted to take you out seconds prior. When the mercenary fell with a bullet in the head, you stared in shock. There was no time to recover as Neil pushed through, barely looking behind at you. It was surprisingly easy to tune out the emotions, taking out anyone who could threaten him or halt your advances. You worked well together, movements in sync enough to stun the opponents on a few occasions. For a second, you wondered whether it was only bound to get better the closer you get to each other. That was certainly an interesting idea… In no time you have met with the line of the squad, watching on as Ives dealt with the last man standing. You have won. The adrenaline started to leave your body, resulting in tremors and shaking hands. Clutching the gun to prevent it from cluttering to the ground, you met the exasperated gaze of the squad leader. Your only response was a shrug. You did not regret the decision, seeing as you have evidently helped them in the field.

“Neil? Do you know where TP is?” Ives took his attention off you and looked at the blonde man.

You followed his gaze, for the first time actually looking at Neil since you spotted him across the plane. At the moment, you were struck by what a sight he was. Navy shirt with sleeves rolled up to expose the forearms covered with veins. The same tie he had on during your walk. Your pulse quickened. The vest drawing attention to the ratio between his broad shoulders and narrow hips, accentuated with a belt. Brown loose-cut trousers and scrapped leather shoes adding a classy touch. You were aware that you were staring yet unable to look away. Not knowing whether to blame it on the adrenaline rush, you wanted nothing but to touch him. Take off those driving gloves that piqued your interest at the first sight. Or have them be wrapped around your throat with just enough pressure. Get rid of the tie again. And…

“Think Sator took him” Neil’s response broke through your increasingly hazy thoughts.

Shaking off the images that started appearing, you looked up at his face again. The ruffled hair and flushed cheeks were not helpful. Fuck’s sake. It had to be stress. Because what else?

“Their place in the port?” Ives asked, his tone nothing but strict business.

“That’s my bet” Neil shrugged, looking around with something dark in his eyes.

He was tense, like a feral animal that could lash out any moment. You were not wrong. The cold blue gaze settled on you almost remorsefully, but before you could open your mouth, he snapped:

“What the fuck were you thinking?” the hostile edge to his voice was new.

You flinched as though you have been hit. The lack of physical impact did not matter. Your heart stammered. He need not explain what it was about. Please no.

“You needed a cover. They weren’t responding, so I did the obvious” you shrugged, feeling the anger grow “And I could ask you the same question” spitting the sentence into his face, you took a step closer.

You have never seen him that furious. Not even in Oslo after your little fuck-up. The sight was both terrifying and alluring. The dark blue eyes blazed with fury. Jaw clenched. Slight pink tint on the cheeks. And yet, still, you had no idea why he reacted like this.

“I knew what I was doing. That’s the difference” the coldness of his voice threw you off.

So it was real. He did mean it. You tried to save him, and here he was, pissed off at you. Making you almost regret it. Almost, because the love was there too. Not giving away no matter what.

“That’s bullshit” it felt good to admit, “You were reckless, as always, and expecting me to-” your rant got interrupted by a strangled yell.

Nothing prepared you for the revelation then. Or the sudden anguish on his face.

“You were almost shot!” Neil’s eyes glistened as though he was close to tears.

Suddenly it made sense. The rain of bullets you were hit with just before getting to him. The way he reacted. But you made it. Nothing happened. So why was he acting like that?

“Almost” ignoring the growing pain in your chest, you pointed out the obvious.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Ives and the rest of the squad observing you. You would rather not have an audience, but then Neil seemed determined to drive his point forward. His face scrunched into a pained scowl.

“Fucking hell,” turning away from your gaze, his back tensed even more “You can’t do shit like that just because I’m involved” the defensive tone took you aback.

What? It was getting worse. You could feel the confidence leaving your body as you struggled for a response. You would never think Neil would do something like that. Not after everything you have told him. Figuring out the only way you that could work, you took your own line of attack.

“Who says I did it only because it was you?” the implication hurt because it was partially correct “Quite an ego you’ve got there” his back was still turned to you.

That angered you even more. Crossing the distance, you placed your hand on his shoulder, making him turn to you. He flinched upon the contact as though your touch burned him. Oh my god. The tears welled up in your eyes. It could not be real. But the emotionless look in the eyes you thought you knew was very much real. It was as though before you realised Neil has built up a wall, guarding himself against you. And there was nothing you could do to get through. You got shocked by the cruel smirk that split his face.

“I can see the way you look at me. As though you wanted to-” you interrupted him sharply.

“Neil”

It was too much. Perhaps because it was true. But he was not done. Persistent to keep going.

“Admit it. It’s because you said some things, and now you can’t bear the thought of losing the object of your affection” the careless tone and the words pierced your heart with gut-wrenching pain “Well, you see, sometimes feelings need to be put aside” he added, almost casually.

Fuck. You gasped, unable to keep a straight face. He might as well see what he has done. Some things. So this is how much your confession meant to him. Good to know. You wanted to slap him, but you felt like that could turn back on you. So instead, you made sure to straighten your back, putting on the familiar mask of neutrality. You have done this before. Probably should have expected it. Only why did it hurt ten times more?

“Can we leave the bloody lovers quarrel till later?” Ives’s voice pierced through the tension.

But you were not ready. Raising your hand in a stopping motion, you turned back to Neil. His face was terrifyingly indifferent. Maybe it was all an act. Or maybe it was just that easy for him to get over whatever you thought you had. A lie. Gathering the smithereens of confidence, you forced a levelled tone:

“Says you. As though you’re acting out of reason right now” you gave him your best impression of the sneer visible on his face.

You could crumble at any moment now. Only the pounding in your ears and the wounded pride were keeping you upwards. But Neil wanted to destroy everything.

“More than you” he glanced at the team waiting impatiently “I really thought you’d know better than this” the punchline was more than you could take.

No. Please no. Your knees buckled, and you swayed. But then you caught the flash of concern in his eyes. Just for a split of a second. So it was not all cold and hatred? You heard Ives huff out a string of curses. There was no time for this. Whatever it even was. Honesty it was then.

“Better than to give away my heart to someone like you? Evidently not” you met his eyes for the final time before walking away in the direction of the SUVs.

The shock you saw in Neil’s face was enough to fuel the survival instincts. With the heart broken or not, the mission was still on. And the rest was silence.

[natrogersfics]

After All - Chapter 5/5

Cover art by @faith2nyc​ Read on AO3

Natasha’s always prided herself in being a master at regulating her emotions. Years of field experience as a journalist has allowed her to hone the skill of taking a step back, drawing in a deep breath, and powering through the job. For regardless of how she personally felt about the matter at hand or how much she despised the person she was interviewing, the objective was to report the unadulterated facts. Right now, though, as she stands in Isabel’s room watching as Loki finishes suturing Isabel’s brow while Steve – who had to step in her place as Loki injected the anesthetic – holds her still, it’s as if her training cannot meet the moment.

Motherhood has transformed her in many ways, but one of the most notable changes is that she’s become a constant worrier. Some days the worry is dull, manageable – propelled by something as simple as whether or not Isabel’s had enough water to drink for the day. Nevertheless, the feeling is always underlying. But there are moments where such is its intensity that breathing becomes arduous, and in spite of the fact that Isabel’s cries have since tapered, she finds that this is one of those times.

“Okay,” Loki says in that saccharine tone she only ever hears him use when addressing Isabel. “That’s a wrap on these pesky needles.” He leans forward, tapping Isabel on the nose and eliciting a tired smile from the little girl. “Good job, Miss Isabel. My best patient without question.”

“She’s going to be okay, right?” Steve asks before she can, and she notes how tight his voice sounds as Isabel turns in his arms and snuggles into the crook of his neck.

“Yes, she will be,” Loki says without a hint of reluctance as he nods at Steve before turning to where she’s standing by the door. “Her reflexes are fine, and she isn’t exhibiting any signs of a concussion. Battle wound notwithstanding, she’s alright.”

The sigh she lets out at Loki’s words is loaded with relief. But the sensation is fleeting, replaced quickly by surprise when she hears Steve speak again. “Thank you, Loki.”

Loki nods once more, a little smile on his face as he balls up the remaining gauze and sutures and throws it into the bin. “The little one should get some rest, so I’ll see myself out,” he says, rising from his seat with his kit in his hands. “I’ll check up on her again in the morning.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she says, stealing a glance to where Steve is rocking Isabel to sleep before stepping out into the hall.

The living room is empty as they make it out, and as she and Loki silently walk towards the direction of her foyer, she catches sight of the note on her dining table with T’Challa’s familiar handwriting. While she feels terribly about having ruined their Christmas Eve, a part of her is glad that she does not have to face them too right at this moment. She lets out a sigh for what seems to be the millionth time in the last hour, turning back to Loki just as they reach her front door.

“Quite an evening, huh?” Loki says, smirking.

In spite of his attempt at humor, she finds that she can only look down. “Loki…” she says. “I-”

“She’s going to be okay, Nat,” Loki says, placing a hand on her arm.

“No, I know.” She looks up at him to find his eyebrows knitted together in question. “I trust you,” she says in clarification. “I trust your assessment. What I meant to say is I’m sorry. I’m sorry for tonight and for how Steve acted when you were just trying to help. I don’t know what happened.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

Loki chuckles quietly, a soft smile forming on his lips when she only stares blankly at him in response. “Is this love, Miss Romanoff?” he asks. “Because it sure looks a lot like it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, practically scoffing. Loki arches a brow at her, and she sighs. “If tonight's any indication-”

“If tonight's any indication, it’s that there’s obviously a lot that’s been left unsaid,” Loki finishes, shaking his head. “Natasha, my darling, forgive me if I sound like a broken record at this point. But you’re truly one of the brightest people I have had the pleasure of knowing, rivaling perhaps only my own mother for the top spot, so I know it’s only a matter of time.” He reaches to cup her face, running his thumb along her cheekbone. “Open your eyes and listen. For all our sakes.”

“Loki…” she whispers, holding his gaze.

With a smile, Loki leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Merry Christmas, Nat.”

“Merry Christmas,” she repeats, mustering a smile as he turns and leaves.

As the door closes behind him, she pads back to the living room, making it as far as the couch until her legs feel too heavy to make it a step further. She sits down, putting her head in her hands as her shoulders sag with fatigue from the last few days. How a night that started out on such a high note devolved so quickly, she can’t begin to process. But if she knows one thing, it’s that she can’t take much more of this.

“Natasha.”

She looks up at the sound of her name to see Steve standing where the hallway and the living room meet. “Is she asleep?” 

“Yes,” he says, moving closer to her. “Nat-”

“Do you know that Izzie has trouble sleeping?” she interrupts, rising to her feet to see him stopped in his tracks. He blinks in surprise, and she nods. “Yeah, there are nights when she’s practically inconsolable… That is until I play her a video with the two of you.” She chuckles humorlessly. “At first I thought it was just a coincidence. And admittedly, there’s a tiny part of me that was wishing that maybe by the time I cave and reach for my phone, that she’s already tired herself out enough to go to sleep. But then I realized that she hasn’t had an episode since you arrived.” She sighs, looking him right in the eyes. “She’s your daughter. I know that. God, if I don’t see that in every little thing she does, every single day. And if there’s ever a time that I made you feel like that wasn’t the case, I am so deeply sorry. That was never my intention. But this?” She shakes her head. “I’m incredibly exhausted, Steve. And not just from tonight. All these years, all I’ve been doing is adjusting to what you want-”

“Excuse me?” he practically spits out, his eyes wide. “What I want?”

“Yes, what you want!” she volleys back bitterly. “You wanted a no-strings-attached arrangement, you got it. Wanted in on our daughter’s life? Check. You wanted to come here for Christmas? I said fine.” She straightens her shoulders, raising her chin. “So, tell me, Steve. What exactly is your problem this time? Because I want this to work, but I am at the end of my rope here.” She sighs, her voice falling to a whisper. “I have nothing left to give you.”

“Nothing left to give me,” he mouths the words, incredulous. “Natasha, all I’ve ever wanted was for you to give me a chance!”

She scoffs. “You’ve had several years’ worth of chances to take, Steve, and I’ve been waiting just as long for even the faintest sign that you wanted one!”

“How was I supposed to know that when all you do is walk away?” he challenges. His words bring her to a pause, and as she stands frozen in place, all she can do is blink. He sighs. “Natasha, I thought everything was going well until that morning in my apartment-”

“Don’t you dare!” she says, throwing her hands out in frustration as she cuts him off. “I woke up to find your ex-fiancée thanking you for selling her back the house you bought together. The very same house that you told me you saw yourself raising a family in. What did you want me to do? Wait around for you to break the news to me when it was clearly standing right at your front door?”

“I wanted you to let me explain!” he says. “Because if you did, then I would have told you that I didn’t sell the house back to Sharon because I didn’t love you and didn’t see a life with you. I did it because I did!” He pauses, sucking in a breath to compose himself. “I didn’t want us to start a life together in a place that I wanted for all the wrong reasons.” He shrugs, defeated. “But then you were serving me a custody agreement so fast my head spun, and then there you were taking the job here before I even had time to recover.”

“I asked you if I had a reason to stay,” she says quietly.

“You did,” he concedes with a nod. “And I should have been brave enough to tell you that you did.” He sighs. “But that doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Because you’ve moved on.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Moved on?”

“Yeah, Nat,” he says. “And you’re damn good at it, too. All you keep doing is moving on, it seems. You’re over me, over us, over New York. And then you’re here, moving on with him-”

“Wait, what?” she interjects.

“Loki,” he says simply, exasperation seeping into his tone. “Look, I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting, but- are you laughing?” His head tilts to the side, and as her laughter escalates, he looks at her like she’s lost her mind. “You’re laughing right now?”

“That’s what this is about?” she says, nearly breathless. “That’s the reason you’ve been acting like a crazy person these last two days?”

“I…” he trails, his forehead wrinkling. “Nat, he has a key to your flat, he’s in your kitchen... He calls you darling.” He scoffs. “I mean, Izzie practically rushes into his arms every time she sees him! And I don’t know how far into your relationship you two are- I mean, I can assume, I suppose. But even if he hasn’t told you, as the world’s leading expert on what it’s like to be in love with you, I’m telling you right now that he is.” His eyes are full of sincerity as he looks at her. “You’re you, Nat. It’s outrageously hard not to love you. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

The fog clears, taking with it all the questions and the doubt that’s plagued her in the last couple of years almost instantly as she stares at him and takes in his words. “Okay,” she says, chuckling as she rubs the back of her neck. “Steve, I’m alone. A lot. Yes, I have Izzie. But after a while, there’s only so much you can talk to a toddler about.” She pauses, and he nods silently in agreement. “And quite frankly, between parenting and working, I don’t get around much, so I don’t have that many friends here. T’Challa? Nakia? They’re out of town, travelling for the paper, as they should be. I see Pepper, what? Once a month if we’re lucky?” She sighs. “Loki’s the only person I can talk to these days because he lives next door and works weird hours. Heck, the only reason we even started talking was because I saw that he liked the same wine and I found out that we agree that men can be the absolute worst-”

“Natasha, I get it,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “And I’m so glad you’ve had someone to talk to. That you’ve found a confidante-”

“Yeah…” she says, raising a brow. “Because it really gets rough out here when men only seem to break our” – she makes sure to emphasize the last word, watching his reaction carefully – “hearts.”

“Right, I know,” he says. “He put you back together when all I did was hurt you. And while I’m devastated to have missed out on the chance to be with you, because I am still, and have always been insanely in love with you, I really do get it. I do. Loki’s a great guy. He’s dreamy, and for crying out loud, he saves babies! And fig loves him. I know that. I’ve accepted it. And the accent…”

“For God’s sake, Rogers,” she mutters, crossing the distance between them. He’s still ranting when she makes it to him, cupping his face in her hands as she pulls him down to her. He groans in surprise when her lips meet his, but just as he begins to respond to her kiss, she pulls away. “Loki’s gay, Steve.” 

For a moment, he only stares at her, lust and confusion swirling in his blue orbs all at once. “Oh…” he says, blinking. His brows furrow as he parts his lips as if to say something, only to press them back into a line. “Oh.”

She bites back a smile. “Yeah… the guy he was seeing broke up with him around the same time Izzie and I moved here.”

“Well, that guy’s dumb…” he mumbles, cringing as he adds, “not unlike me.” His eyes are wide as he turns to her, his expression sheepish. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Because that’s not really my information to share,” she points out, to which he nods in concession. “Plus, how was I supposed to know that you wanted to be together too?”

“Too?” he clarifies. “So, I’m not too late?”

“Oh, my God,” she says indignantly. She steps closer to him once more, clutching the collar of his sweater in her hands as she looks right into his eyes. “I am still, and have always been, insanely in love with you too, you big oaf! I-”

Her words are cut off when he lowers his head to slant his lips over hers, his hands falling to her hips to pull her flush to him. Whereas their first kiss had been chaste, this one is hungry, needy – quickly growing teeth and making her head spin in no time at all when she tastes the combination of wine and something wholly and distinctly Steve. She snakes her arms around his neck, rising onto the tips of her toes to card her fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. He moans her name longingly at that, and she smiles at the way his lips chase hers when she pulls away momentarily, a teasing comment already making its way to the tip of her tongue. But before she can say it, he bends at the knees, scooping her into his arms as he captures her lips in another searing kiss. Then like a practiced dance, she wraps her legs around his waist, letting him walk them down the hall and into her bedroom.

The second he walks in, she sets her feet down, placing her hands flat on his chest and pushing him towards the bed. He falls back onto it, a laugh escaping him as he bounces slightly, but it lasts but a second as she straddles his lap and her lips find his again.

“Natasha,” he says breathlessly between kisses, his hands covering hers as they find their way under his sweater. “Nat, wait-”

“It’s fine,” she says, guiding his hand up her arm and pressing down to let him feel where her implant is as she continues to kiss a trail down his jaw and to his neck. “I’m safe, and there hasn’t been anyone since you.”

The groan he lets out in response is almost pained, and she gasps in surprise when he flips them over, his pupils blown wide as he stares down at her. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Me?” she asks, flummoxed. “You’re the one flying here, showing up in your stupid leather jacket and then parading around my flat without a shirt on!” Her eyes narrow. “Do you have any idea how many cold showers I’ve taken in the last few days?”

His mouth twists into an amused grin. “I told you, Izzie ruined my shirt,” he says, reaching up to brush the hair out of her eyes. “And for the record, there hasn’t been anyone since you, either.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” she asks, desperation slipping into her tone as she squirms underneath him. “Less talking, more stripping!”

He chuckles, and in spite of her patience waning, she finds herself grinning at the sound. “You, Natasha Romanoff, would test the patience of a saint.”

“Did you get canonized recently or something?” she asks, huffing out a breath when he rolls his eyes at her. “Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?”

“I know, baby,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her again. “And you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He shakes his head. “How much I want you.” Even as his eyes have grown dark and stormy, the pining in them is as clear as day, making the blood sing in her veins. “But I don’t want to rush this, Nat. I want to start over. I want-” He pauses, taking in a deep breath. “I need to get this right.”

“But it is right.” She moves to sit up, prompting him to sit back on his knees. “Steve, I thought that everything that happened between us was proof that we were a mistake, that everything I’ve been holding onto was a lie.” He looks down at his lap, his expression twisting as if he’s reliving the pain of the last couple of years all over again. “Hey, look at me,” she says, reaching over to hook a finger under his chin, tilting his head up. “I was wrong.” She shakes her head. “The last twenty-four hours notwithstanding, I haven’t been as happy as I’ve been these last few days in a long, long time. I won’t speak for you, but-”

“It’s the same for me,” he interrupts without a trace of hesitation in his voice, holding her gaze. “Exactly the same, Nat.”

She smiles. “Then if there’s something I know for sure now, it’s that you, me… fig. It’s right. It’s always been right.” She sighs, running her thumb over his jawline. “I love you, Steve. I want to be with you. So please, no more waiting. No more wasting time.”

It takes a beat, but then he’s surging forward to kiss her, pushing her onto her back once more as her arms wrap around his neck. “I love you,” he whispers against her lips. “I love you so damn much.”

“Then show me,” she says, smiling when with a groan, he pulls away and lets his hands trail to the hem of her blouse, pulling it up and off of her. She leans up on her elbows as he sits back again, letting her gaze trail hungrily down his chest and to the smooth planes of his stomach as he reaches behind him to rid himself of his sweater.

“See something you like?” he asks, smirking when he catches her staring.

She peers up at him from underneath her lashes. “More like something I need.”

“Good,” he says, causing the breath to get caught in her throat at the way his eyes flash. “So do I.”

He brings his lips back to hers, reaching behind her to undo the clasp of her bra, and she slides it off her arms when it comes loose around her before throwing it unceremoniously to the floor. Gently, he pushes her shoulder, guiding her back down as he peppers kisses down the column of her throat and lets his hands wander over her torso. He cups the swell of her breast, ghosting a thumb over her nipple, and she feels him smile against her skin at the gasp that slips from her lips.

“Steve.” She sighs his name brokenly when his mouth moves from her neck to her sternum, worshipping every inch of skin it finds in its trail. It’s when his lips hover past her navel, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her leggings that she places her hands over his, keeping them in place.

He moves back up her body to look her in the eyes. “Let me,” he says the same time she tells him he does not have to, and as she blinks up at him, chest heaving, he smiles softly. “Can I, Nat?”

There’s an undercurrent of desperation in the way he asks the question, as if he needs this – craves this – and despite how much she aches to feel him against her, to have his skin against hers, when she takes in the unadulterated desire in his eyes, she finds herself powerless to do anything but nod. She lets go of his hands, biting her lip in anticipation as he moves back down her body. Cool air skims over her newly exposed skin as he pulls her leggings down along with her panties, making her shiver as her heart picks up in her chest, and she gasps when he presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh, propping one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Steve,” she moans loudly – wantonly – into the darkness of the room when he licks up her center. Her head falls to the side, her hands scrambling for purchase on the duvet as a litany of curses slip from her lips, and that’s all he needs to hear to bring his hands to her waist, holding her still as he flicks his tongue against her bundle of nerves. The sensation that pulses through her is almost too much too fast, but her body craves it all the same, and she bites her lip to keep from laughing out. It’s pathetic that he has her teetering off the edge this quickly, this suddenly, but at the same time, she’s not surprised. He learned her body long ago, and she’s infinitely glad that in spite of the time that’s passed since they’ve last been together like this, he still knows it like the back of his hand. It’s when he pushes two fingers into her, curling them as they work in tandem with his tongue that she finally keens, her vision a white-hot blur as she calls out his name.

“Hi,” he whispers when she finally opens her eyes moments later, her heart still ringing in her ears. “You still with me?” His lips turn up in a boyish smile when she nods. “Good.”

He pulls away from her, and despite her first orgasm still coursing hotly through her veins, she whines at the loss of contact. “Steve.”

“I’m here, Nat,” he says, returning to bracket her body with his own after making short work of his pants. When she attempts to pull him down to her, he chuckles. “Remind me again where Izzie got her impatience from?”

“Want you,” she says, ignoring his quip and not caring one bit about how desperate her tone has gotten. “Want you now.” He smiles, but it’s quickly replaced by a groan when she reaches between them, wrapping a hand around his length.

“Fuck,” he all but growls, his eyes slamming shut as she begins to pump her hand up and then down. “Natasha.” 

“Please,” she says, her breath hot against his ear, and that’s all she has to say to make him shift his weight onto his forearms as she guides him to her entrance, hissing when he brushes up against her. A gasp falls from her lips, her toes curling into the sheets as he begins to sink into her, inch by inch, and it isn’t until he’s bottomed out that she realizes how much she’s missed this feeling – how much she’s missed him. He leans down, brushing her lips with his own, and making her crave the friction that much more. “Steve,” she calls out, digging her nails into his back. He looks down at her, his jaw clenched, and only then does it dawn on her that he’s stilled for her benefit. “It’s okay,” she promises as his eyes search hers for affirmation. She smiles. “Move, baby.”

With a nod, he begins to roll his hips, drawing out a mewl from her as his lips find her collarbone. She knows there’ll be marks tomorrow, but she can’t bring herself to care. The lazy snap of his hips coupled with the warmth of his mouth on her skin as he nips and teases is addictive, dizzying, and she wants more. She needs more. With that, she wraps her legs around his waist, pushing the heels of her feet into his lower back, encouraging him to go deeper, faster. He groans, the last of his restraint seemingly crumbling when he intertwines their fingers and pins their hands above her head, picking up the pace and making her gasp at the delicious shift in angle.

Pleasure curls in her gut in no time at all, coiling tightly, and it isn’t until he’s shushing her gently that she realizes her moans have grown louder. “I’ve got you,” he says, whispering the words and other sweet nothings into her lips again and again. “I’ve got you, Nat. With me, okay?”

She manages a nod, catching the smile that forms on his lips. And then he’s slipping a hand down between them, making her back bow off the mattress as he thumbs at her bundle of nerves. Her belly clenches as pleasure pulses rapidly through every synapse, every nerve, and though she could feel it coming, a surprised gasp still slips from her lips when her orgasm washes over her, stealing the air right out of her lungs. He kisses her as she tumbles over the edge, pushing into her once, twice, and then with a grunt, he goes still, following her right into the abyss.

Quiet settles over them, their labored breathing the only sound as they come down from their highs. Her body hasn’t completely stopped trembling when he pulls out of her, eliciting a whimper from her as he brushes against her still sensitive flesh, and he kisses her temple consolingly as he shifts onto his back and pulls her to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says later on when their breathing comes back to normal. She lifts her head off his chest to look at him, her eyebrows knitting when she finds his eyes filled with contrition. He sighs. “I’m sorry for not fighting for you… for us, sooner.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “We’ve both made mistakes.” She reaches up to push the hair out of his forehead. “I’m sorry for assuming… well, everything. And for not giving you a chance to explain.”

He takes her hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss the inside of her wrist. “Any chance there’s still one in those years’ worth of chances that’s still up for grabs?”

She smiles. “I think so.”  

She’s warm. That’s the first thing that comes to Natasha’s mind when she stirs awake, her eyes blinking as they adjust to the pale morning light. But as her vision focuses, she realizes the warmth she’s feeling has less to do with the comforter she’s cocooned in and more with the arm draped over her waist. She turns to her other side to see Steve, his outrageously long lashes fanned out against his cheeks as he sleeps, and as memories of the last few hours come flooding back to her, she smiles.

It was past midnight when they finally found the wherewithal to clean the remnants of the feast she prepared, sharing a plate of leftovers and a few glasses of wine as they transferred the food into containers and loaded the dishwasher. They’d even gotten around to wrapping the last of Isabel’s Christmas presents, laying them neatly under the tree before finding themselves a tangled mess of limbs on her bed again, taking their sweet time this time around to get reacquainted with one another. After, they’d spent the rest of the night talking, laughing, and though they’d spent many nights like this in the past, this time felt significantly different. They still had so much to discuss, but with all their cards on the table, it’s as if their conversations – their plans – finally had a shot at permanence, a chance to become reality, and it would be a lie to say that the idea didn’t make her heart absolutely sing.  

“You’re staring.”

Steve’s voice interrupts her musing, and she chuckles when she looks to find his eyes already open. “Some people find that romantic, you know.”

“In movies, maybe,” he says through a yawn. “But in real life, it’s just creepy.” She glares at him, giving his chest a shove, and he grins sleepily as he pulls her in for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Natasha Romanoff.”

“Merry Christmas,” she whispers back, beaming.

He brings a hand to her hip, rubbing circles into her skin with his thumb. “You okay?”

The question causes her to bite her lip, stifling a smirk. It’s not as if last night was their first time – one need not look further than their daughter sleeping down the hall for proof – and yet, it was such a Steve thing to ask. She smiles. “Never better.”

Had it been any other morning, she might have called him out on the smug smile that crosses his lips, but she decides that today, she’ll let him have it. “So, tell me,” he says. “At what point in the last six months did you become a morning person?”

“It’s cute that you think your daughter let me have a say in the matter,” she deadpans, reaching up to cup his face and letting out a contented sigh. “And I’m just happy.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling her over him until she’s straddling his hips. “How happy?”

“I think…” she says, biting her lip as she leans down to whisper in his ear, “I’d rather show you than tell you.” He raises a curious brow at her as she pulls away, watching her carefully as she kisses her way down his neck, and she smiles when she feels his skin prickle under her lips.

“Hi!”

They both freeze at the greeting, sharing a wide-eyed stare with each other before turning to see Isabel watching them by the doorway, her stuffed Corgi in hand. “Oh, my God, Izzie,” she says, quickly grabbing her robe that’s dangling on the bedpost and wrapping it around herself. She hops off the bed, managing to throw Steve his boxers before she makes it to Isabel, bending down to pick her up. “How did you get out of your crib, babe?”

Isabel’s only response is to laugh, waving over her shoulder. “Hi, Dada!”

She turns just as Steve emerges from under the comforter. “Hi, fig.”

“You good over there?” she asks, biting back a smile.

He shoots her a withering look as she makes her way back to the bed. “Come here, you little escape artist,” he says, reaching for Isabel and making her giggle as he smothers her with kisses. “What did we say about climbing things?”

“Pwe-sents!” Isabel says, smiling widely.

He chuckles, turning to her just as she settles down next to him, leaning back against the headboard. “Do you want to have breakfast first?”

“No,” Isabel answers before she can get a word in, prompting them both to shake their head in amusement.

“In case you haven’t noticed, she’s kind of the boss around here” she says, smirking.

He laughs. “Presents it is.”

The floor of her living room is a sea of torn up wrapper and discarded ribbon, but as she brings her mug of hot chocolate to her lips, she finds that she couldn’t care less about the sprawling mess as she watches Steve help Isabel rip open her presents. For her part, she’s dutifully played photographer, cataloguing Isabel’s reaction to each gift – as requested by the competitive bunch of aunts, uncles, and grandparents all hellbent on one-upping each other.

“Last one, Iz,” Steve says, handing her a rectangular box.

“What is it?” she prompts excitedly as she puts her mug down to hold the camera back up, capturing the moment Isabel gets the last of the wrapper off and pulls the item out.

“Hat!” Isabel says, turning in Steve’s lap to show him.

“Close,” Steve says, nearly chuckling at the way Isabel’s brows furrow in dismay at his response. “It’s called a beanie. Though it’s just not any other beanie.” He looks her way as he adds, “It’s a beanie uncle Buck chose.”

The laugh slips freely from her lips. “Oh no!”

“Oh yes,” he confirms, his fingers feeling for something in the fabric. “Tada!”

“Wow!” Isabel exclaims, her big blue eyes filling with elation as the antlers on the Reindeer beanie light up, the array of colorful lights twinkling brightly. “Am-a-zing!”

“You hear that?” Steve asks, shooting her a smile. “It’s am-a-zing!” He turns to Isabel, pointing at the camera. “Say, thank you, Uncle Buck.”

“Thanks Buck!” Isabel says.

She chuckles as she cuts the video and rises to her feet. “I hope you still think it’s am-a-zing when she wants to go out in public with that thing,” she tells him in a sing-song voice as she opens up a trash bag and begins to collect the discarded wrapper.

“You mock the beanie now,” he says, standing when Isabel runs off to play with her new mountain of toys. “But when she runs off and the lights make her easy to spot, you might be singing a different tune.”

“The faith you have in our daughter keeping something on her head for more than five minutes is inspirational,” she says, turning to see him grab more wrapper off the floor. “Truly, it is.” She laughs as he rolls his eyes, slipping the bunch he has in his hand into the bag she’s holding as he comes to stand in front of her. “Is that everything?”

“As far as the wrapper’s concerned, yes,” he says, smiling as he produces a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. “But you still haven’t opened this.”

Her eyebrows furrow as she takes the paper from him. “Who’s this from?”

“Me,” he says simply.

“Steve.” His name falls from her lips like a chastisement, and she can only sigh when his response is to encourage her to open it. “Well, now I feel bad,” she says as her fingers work to unfold the paper. “I got you that gift from the aquarium to be funny and then you got me that book, and now…” Her words trail off as she opens the paper all the way, her eyes scanning over what’s scrawled out on it:

Will you go out on a date with me?

“I meant what I said about starting over,” he says when she looks up. “Or, at least, doing the parts we skipped.” His lips twist into a smile. “And I figured since contracts seem to be our thing, maybe you’d say yes if I asked you in writing.”

“You’re kidding, right?” she asks even as her lips turn up in amusement.

“I’m completely serious,” he says, shrugging at the incredulous stare she sends his way. “We could get dressed up, go to dinner and a movie…” He wiggles his eyebrows as he adds, “maybe even make out in the back of the theater.” She snorts at that last bit, and he smiles. “What do you say?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, okay?” she says, her expression growing serious. “But Steve, usually, a guy asks a girl out before she has his baby.”

When she smiles, he throws his head back, laughing. “Okay, well, usually a girl agrees to go out with a guy before she asks him to have a baby with her, so I guess we’re not really into chronology here.” He smirks as she narrows his eyes playfully at him. “Besides, your manufactured indignation would be a lot more convincing if you didn’t practically jump my bones last night.” 

She gasps at that, stealing a quick glance over at Isabel to make sure she’s not listening before looking back at him, lowering her voice. “Oh, fuck you.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, a glint in his eyes as he pulls her to him. “Is that not what you were doing last night?”

“Whatever,” she says, unable to keep a smile from forming on her lips. “Fine. Yes, I will go out on a date with you.” His eyes light up at that, and she holds a finger up. “But if you give me another note at the end asking me to go steady, I’m leaving.”

He beams. “Yes, ma’am.”                                                                                    

She rises to the tips of her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck as his mouth finds hers for what feels like the millionth time this morning. The taste of his lips mingled with the hot chocolate they were sipping on is a heavy combination, and she lets out a happy sigh into their kiss when his hands curl around her waist, his thumb brushing against the patch of skin left exposed between her shirt and her pajamas. She nips at his bottom lip, making him groan, and it’s only when they hear someone clearing their throat that they pull away and she moves to look behind Steve.

“Sorry,” Loki says from where he leans by the doorway of her living room, his arms crossed over his chest as he grins from ear to ear. “I only came to check on the little one. I swear I knocked, but um…” 

She bites her bottom lip just as Steve turns as well, but before she can say anything, Isabel is already up and running. “Yo-ki!”

“Well, hello there,” Loki says, picking Isabel up. “Someone’s chipper on this Christmas morning, I see. I’ve come to check on your stitches, which I tried to tell your Mum and Dad” – he turns back to them, smirking – “but they were busy.”

“Stitches, right,” she says a little too loudly, pointing towards the couch to hide her blush. “After you, Doc.” 

Loki asks them a few of routine questions about Isabel as he sets his medical kit down on the coffee table, and as she and Steve take turns answering them and sharing their observations, she realizes that it’s nice to know that someone else was quietly sharing her worries throughout the night, picking up on the little things she was finding as well. They go silent as Loki begins to examine Isabel, checking her reflexes and changing the bandage covering her stitches.

“Okay,” Loki says, finally breaking the tense silence that had fallen over them. “This sweetheart is free to play with all her Christmas goodies.” 

“Yeah?” she says. “Everything looks good?”

“Everything’s just splendid,” Loki says, turning to her and Steve as he helps Isabel off the couch. He drops the flashlight into his kit, zipping it up. “She’s not exhibiting any signs of a concussion and her stitches are healing up well and should dissolve on their own fairly soon.”

“Thank God,” Steve says, relief thick in his voice, and she finds herself nodding along to the sentiment.

“Thank you for coming to check on her,” she tells Loki, who only smiles in return. “I owe you one.”

“As do I,” Steve adds. “Any chance we could start the repayment with some breakfast?”

“I appreciate the offer, but actually the reason I came by early is because I’m on my way to my mother’s,” Loki says, smiling as he nods towards the both of them. “It’s nice to see you two have patched things up, though.”

“Yeah, about that,” Steve says. “Loki, I’m sorry for my behavior last night. There’s no excuse. I was an ass.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” Loki says, waving off his apology.

Steve shakes his head. “It’s not. I-”

“He thought you and I were together,” she blurts out suddenly, smiling when Steve’s eyes widen, a sheepish expression breaking out on his face. 

“Well, that explains a lot,” Loki says, grinning graciously as his gaze goes from her to Steve. “In any case, I’m flattered that you’d consider me a worthy adversary.”

She smirks. “He also thinks you’re dreamy.”

“Does he now?” Loki asks, clearly amused.

“And on that note,” Steve says, turning to glare at her. “I think I hear our daughter calling.”

She and Loki snicker as Steve, ears red, walks away. “You sure you can’t stay?” she asks. “It won’t even take ten minutes to get the waffles going.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Loki says as they begin to make their way towards her front door. “I don’t want to hit traffic and you know my mother will kill me if I so much as have a bite before I come to her home.”

“Tell Frigga I said hello then,” she says as she opens the door, leaning against it.

“Oh, believe me, that’s not the only thing I’ll be telling her,” he says, smirking as he gestures to her collarbone. She looks down, and he laughs as she adjusts the collar of her shirt to hide the mark still there. “Long night, was it?” She shoots him a withering look as he leans down to kiss her cheek, cocking a brow up at her. “I fully expect a detailed play by play when I get back.”

She chuckles, shoving him away playfully. “Get out of here!”

Loki smiles. “I’m happy for you, Nat.”

“Thank you,” she says with a nod. “Merry Christmas.”

With a wink, Loki waves goodbye, and she waits for him to make it down the stairs before shutting the door. She walks back to the living room, stopping just by the threshold to see Steve carrying Isabel as they both peer out the window. She smiles. “What are you two goofs up to?” 

“Is ’nowing!” Isabel says, pointing out the window as Steve turns.

“Is it?” she asks as she pads to them, making a show of checking out the window. “It is! Maybe if there’s enough later, we can go outside and try to make Olaf.”

Steve’s brow rises in question. “Who’s Olaf?”

“Glad you asked,” she says at the same time Isabel utters snowman. Steve only stares blankly at them, making her laugh. “Don’t worry, you’ll get acquainted with him, Elsa, and Anna... Probably three times before this morning is over, if you’re lucky.”

“Still don’t know who those people are,” he says, pulling her in with his other hand until she’s pressed up against his side. “But I’ll gladly find out if you two introduce me.”

“What’s the saying again?” she muses, looking up teasingly at him. “Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it?”

He grins. “I think I may already have.”

The affection that fills his eyes is so remarkably perspicuous that she wonders how she’s missed it all these years, and as her lips turn up to mirror his smile, she makes a silent vow to never doubt its existence ever again. He leans down, but before his lips can meet hers, Isabel turns in his arms, effectively wedging herself between them.

“Mish-tow!” Isabel says, pointing above them.

They both laugh as they look up, and sure enough, the bundle of mistletoe she had put up yesterday looms above them. She smirks. “You know what that means, right?”

“I think I do,” he says, nodding knowingly as they both turn to Isabel, who’s watching them curiously.

“Fig sandwich!” they both yell as they lean in, pressing a kiss to Isabel’s cheeks and delighting in the way their daughter’s joyous laughter echoes throughout the room.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

[shintorikhazumi]

Romero and Julie (Act I: Truths and Lies)

A/N: Thought of it while I was looking up K-on’s romeo and juliet episode and accidentally typed “Romero”.

...I know i have so many wips, but this will most likely be a 2-shot or a 3. It’s not going to drag on that long. I think... I believe...

... I think...

...5 chaps at most?

Also, this story is as sloppily written as that search prompt, so I apologize. (I keep writing romeo as romero for some reason.) I don’t know how to write anymore, it seems. Also, I didn’t reread this for checks. Sorry again. I just... yeeted this out as soon as the last word was in place. Anyway,

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Two households, both alike in dignity,

   In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

   Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

   A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows

   Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,

   And the continuance of their parents' rage,

Which but their children's end naught could remove,

   Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which, if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to me-

“I can’t believe the utter bullshit I’ve just read.”

“Lady Claudine!” Mahiru gasped, unable to believe the words she’d just heard coming from the noble lady sat across her.

“Oh, come now, Mahiru. You can’t tell me you actually like this piece of work?” Claudine sighed, shutting the book and placing it on the table. She stared at the cover a few minutes more before pushing it away from her in disgust.

“Hmm? I don’t get it. It is a piece? And it is a work?” Mahiru’s escort cocked her head to the side in confusion, giving Claudine a look that requested clarification.

“Dame Karen.” Claudine sighed, resting her elbows on the table and propping her head up in her hands.  She ignored Mahiru’s wide eyes at her ill-mannered display and went on with her exchange with the female knight. “I’m saying it’s a terrible piece of work. Terribly inaccurate.”

“Ohhhhh. I get it.” Karen nodded, eyes wide, expression enlightened before it settled into a smile. “I think so too.”

“Right?!” Claudine thought her voice was a bit too enthusiastic there. Clearing her throat, she calmly reiterated. “Right? I actually had high expectations for this as many of the noble ladies I’ve come across recently have been flaunting their copies of the script. They even dubbed it as the ‘New Romance Bible of High Society’.” Claudine rolled her eyes. She would have made a gagging motion, but she was certain Mahiru would cry blood at that.

“Besides, I can’t believe they’d try to make a reference to my family name for such a piece, and even claim to have modeled the heroine after me when clearly, she is nothing like me.” Claudine continued to criticize. “Therefore, I have fair reason to dislike such a novel.”

“It’s not all that bad, is it?” Mahiru tried. “I managed to read up to half of it, and I believe it was alright.”

Claudine stared at her blankly. “I decided to give Junna the benefit of the doubt here, as she has been my long-time tutor and friend. I believe in her recommendations.” Claudine pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “So, I’ve read the book cover to cover.”

“Oh?”

“It was the worst decision I’ve ever made.” Claudine lamented. “Nana should have stopped her from picking up such a horrific title. I can’t believe she actually liked it enough to recommend it to me.”

“Maybe she thought it would be a nice read since it was about you?” Karen offered her opinion.

“Who would want to read about themselves in such a sad excuse of a tale?” Claudine played with her tea, swirling it in the cup. “Maybe if it was written more tastefully... Anyway, I can’t stand the book so maybe I’ll just give it away or use it for fire.”

“Madame Junna will feel sad to hear that, you know?” Mahiru sighed, taking a bite of her cake. “She might even cry.”

“No, she won’t.” Claudine chuckled with a wave of her hand, but then Junna’s face flashed a brief moment in her mind, and it made her pause in thought. “...right?” She wasn’t so sure all of a sudden.

“Lady Claudine... she sulked for three days when she’d heard you laughed during one of the most tragic plays of our generation.” Mahiru deadpanned.

Claudine’s brows furrowed, unable to recall the events that Mahiru was referencing.

“Que?”

“Remember? We went to Brighton theatre the other day?”

“...”

“Brighton?”

“Karen! You were with us too, you know!”

“Ah-”

Mahiru looked to Claudine excitedly. It seemed as though she’d finally remembered.

“That comedy skit Junna recommended?”

“Again, it was tragedy!”

“The one where the main character got shot after being stupid enough to not take a shield after he was advised to? The ‘A sword is mightier than a pen, but the sword is my...’ my...” Claudine thought hard, struggling to find the right words in her memory. “Something or other.” She gave up.

“Kuro-chan!”

Claudine grinned at the nickname, pleased that she was able to rile Mahiru up another day.

“Okay, okay. Enough teasing, I know.” She laughed, patting her friend on the head and gaining a blooming blush in return. “You were just too lovely, I couldn’t help myself.” She flashed a charming smile that made Mahiru burn even hotter, and made Karen pout.

“This is why you’re so... and nobles keep... hrmmrrgghh...” She grumbled. “And yet you complain about being crowded and you....”

“What was that, Dame Karen?” Claudine chuckled, eyeing her friend with an amused look.

“Oh, nothing really, Duchess Claudine.” Karen fired back.

“Hey now, don’t go spreading lies, my dear knight.” Claudine frowned.

“I speak no lies, milady. Everyone knows that you are the one who has been handling estate affairs as of late.” Karen spoke seriously all of a sudden, irking Claudine secretly.

She didn’t want to think of those things right now.

Before Claudine’s mood sunk further, Karen- with a quick flip of a switch- had returned to pouting. “And I’m not your dear knight.”

Oh, Karen could be so perceptive, sometimes. Claudine gladly accepted the bail.

“I know.” Claudine smiled, half-grateful, half-teasing. “You are Mahiru’s, right?” Claudine wiggled her brows suggestively. Karen flushed hot red, and Claudine thoroughly drank in her new target’s vexation in enjoyment.

“Kuro-chan!!”

Claudine admired the twin tomatoes in front of her. Life had been a drag lately, but time with her friends always seemed to offset all of those.

“Oh right. And Hikari’s too.”

Claudine broke into hysterics at the display of flailing arms and incoherent half-yells of denial at the mention of her knight’s name. She swore she could physically see the steam coming off of the pair in front of her. Was it from anger, embarrassment, or both? Probably both, Claudine supposed.

“Kuro-chan, you are seriously so mean.” Karen whined, fanning her face uselessly as the heat showed no signs of subsiding.

Claudine wiped a tear from her eyes. She’d laughed so much her sides were beginning to hurt.

“I’m terrible, aren’t I?” She smiled.

“That you are, Milady.” A stoic voice suddenly inserted itself into their conversation.

Claudine found herself jolting in her seat at its proximity from behind her. Whipping her head around, she sighed in relief at the sight of her escort.

“Hikari! At least alert us sooner if you’ve arrived!” Claudine complained. Her heart beat strongly against the palm she’d rested against her chest in an attempt to calm herself.

“I have arrived, Milady.”

“No, like I said. Say that sooner!” Claudine huffed, settling back into her seat, leaning her head on her palm once more. Claudine spared a glance at Karen and Mahiru who were looking rather bashful, eyes averted from the newest arrival.

She covered her mouth with her hand to hide the growing smile on her face as her knight stared at the pair across them. Claudine patiently awaited the usual awkward interaction between her friends that she knew would play out soon. She counted the seconds off in her head, knowing exactly when the first move would be made.

3... 2... 1-

Like clockwork, Hikari faced Mahiru and Karen head-on, straightened her posture, and bent into a deep bow of greeting. “Lady Tsuyuzaki.”

“Dame Kagura. It’s a pleasure to see you once more” Mahiru responded calmly.

However, Claudine caught the way Mahiru’s brow twitched. Her displeasure was skillfully hidden behind that gentle smile she’s known for forever, but Claudine would like to believe she’s adept enough at deciphering the true meaning behind Mahiru’s masks called grace.

She internally shook her head, hoping Mahiru could soon find the freedom to be free from the expectations laid on the lady known as ‘High Society’s Saintess’, and be able to express emotions outside of simple joy, kindness, or sympathy.

Turning to the other knight, Claudine waited for what Karen’s reaction for today would be. She had a variety for different days. Sometimes it was openly voicing her disappointment, and other times it was a response just as curt and detached as Hikari’s.

“Dame Ai-”

“Karen!” The owner of the name interrupted. “Just Karen. Karen is fine... H-Hikari...”

Oh? Today was a little more bold, Claudine noted. Usually Karen would only politely request the other knight to refer to her by her given name, even if it bore her title. This was a fresh attempt. Now, how would her dear knight react?

“Dame Karen.” Hikari stated blankly, completely unfazed by the hiccup in her usual greeting routine.

Claudine lightly slapped Hikari’s arm-earning her a confused yelp- before throwing Karen and Mahiru a consoling smile; one that told them there was always a next time to attempt to woo her clueless knight.

She watched Karen’s shoulders drop in a sigh, and Mahiru cover her relenting smile with her fan. She should talk to Hikari about this sometime again. For now, however...

“So? What goes on back at the manor?” Claudine took a sip of her tea that had now gone cold after she’d ignored it a while. With a minute flick of her finger, it grew warm in her hands and she smiled, hoping her friends hadn’t noticed.

She heard her knight groan from behind her. Quite a rare happening, to be frank. Hikari was usually very careful with her actions and reactions, so Claudine braced herself for some unpleasant news.

“Master Cyrille has finally arrived.” She reported dutifully.

Claudine somehow heard the frosty bite in her tone. It was understandable. Cyrille was her elder brother of four years, and the heir apparent to their household.

-Or that was how it was supposed to be.

He and Hikari never really got along after- ehem- certain incidents had taken place a few years ago. Those incidents also happened to be part of the reason why his successorship was being reconsidered at present.

“How did Pa- Father react?” Claudine caught herself before her small childish habit would be revealed.

Hikari scratched her cheek, another nervous habit of hers that Claudine had learned about after years of being together. “They had the usual debate. Right as he arrived.”

That was expected. Claudine knew something like that would happen. So why was Hikari so bothered.

“The young master came onto the premises yelling right away from the gate about being the rightful heir or something along those lines.”

This too was within Claudine’s foresight.

“I can’t believe he’s making a fuss on foreign land. We’re not here to start a war, we’re here as representatives of a peace treaty.” Claudine shook her head in disappointment.

Her family, the Capulets, had hailed from the Western empire and had been residing for a few months on Eastern lands. After hundreds of years of warring with the east, they had experienced the first fifty years of a truce. Finally, the two empires had decided to build friendly relations to completely cease all the needless battles between them. After fifty years of an ambiguous standstill, the emperors had finally decided to send forth representatives to celebrate the golden year of peace between them and cement the alliance of the nations.

As the grand ducal household located at the border of the empires, their family had naturally been selected. This was also the West’s acclaimed ‘reward for service in battle’ to their family who had always fought to protect the precious border.

Yes, all that struggle in history, and her brother might just be the one to render it all useless in one fell swoop.

Not that it would have been the first time.

“Anything else, Hikari?” Claudine could feel her headache coming on.

“They argued in the study.”

“I figured.”

Hikari still radiated nervous energy, and Claudine just had to wonder why. “What are you not telling me yet, Hikari?”

“... Master Cyrille kept pressing that he was the rightful hair to the Dukedom... then Your Grace was angered and said that... that...”

“Hikari?”

“You’re not going to like it.” The knight warned.

“Obviously not.” Claudine replied flatly. “From how you are at this moment, I’ve already figured that out.”

“The Grand Duke said he’d rather make you the heir... instead of Young Master Cyrille... so he wishes to speak with you back at the estate.”

Claudine’s eyes widened. She knew there was a possibility that this outcome would arise. She just didn’t think it was that possible. She had already voiced her stance on this in the past to her father. She was not willing to take over their family as head. She had other plans in life. Plans of freedom and of adventure; she had other desires that were probably not suited for a woman carrying royal blood.

Yet she longed for that particular life. Thus, she could not be the Duke’s successor. She’d suggested that her father give the title to their youngest sibling instead who was seven years her junior.

He might not be ready now, but he could still be groomed to be the perfect candidate in the future. She was sure Gabriel could do it, irresponsible as she may sound at that moment, pushing it all onto the child.

“Kuro-chan?”

Mahiru’s tender voice reminded Claudine that her friends were still there, quite worried that she’d suddenly froze on the spot.

“My apologies, Mahiru.” She got up, bowing deeply. “I know you’ve gone out of your way to prepare all of this for me, but-”

“Hey.” Claudine felt a warm hand on her cheek, guiding her to stand back up. Mahiru’s gaze was kind as it always was, full of tender empathy. “Go. A few tea and biscuits aren’t going to go to waste just because you’re not around.”

Claudine managed a small smile, taking Mahiru’s hand into her own two.

“You have Karen anyway.”

“Exactly.”

“Hmm? What about me?”

The two young ladies laughed at their inside joke for a few moments before embracing one another goodbye.

Karen had offered one to Claudine as well, and she gladly accepted.

After being sent off with the best of regards and well-wishing, Claudine tried to not think on her dread the entire carriage ride home.

She just knew it was going to be a messy affair.

//-//-//-//-//

“Claudine.”

“Your Grace.”

The Grand Duke heaved a sigh, gesturing for his daughter to take a seat across from him. “I take it you’ve already heard from Hikari?” At the nod of Claudine’s head, he sighed once more. “I’m really sorry about that. I am aware that you do not wish to get involved in such dealings. However, I didn’t have much else to say. I could not think of any other argument at that moment.”

Claudine could see the exhaustion built up in her father. She felt bad for being so insistent on her own wants that she’d possibly pushed him up against a wall. However, she could not deny that this was the only path she was willing to take.

Taking her father’s hands and planting a kiss on them, she reassured him. “I understand, papa.”

“Claudine...”

“I am also at fault, anyway. I know you’re being pressured by the Royal family into a succession ceremony soon, and yet... I’m adding onto your troubles.”

“I just- I don’t understand why they are so adamant on it... yet at the same time I know why.” Duke Capulet’s expression turned stern. “I suspect this is the first prince’s doing.”

“Paris?”

The duke nodded, clearly unhappy at the mention of the name. “I don’t understand why your brother went against my guidance to not associate with him. The second prince would make a far better friend, as well as future ruler.” His frown deepened. “And yet, that imbecile, Cyrille...”

Duke Capulet brought Claudine’s hands to his forehead, bowing before his daughter.

“After all that fool, Paris, had done to you...”

Claudine shuddered at the memory of her days at the academy and the forceful ‘courtship methods’ of the first prince. Had her father been a different man, she feared she would have been long-engaged to such a twisted brat who hid behind a cunning smile and the power of the crown.

He was sure never to push too far, or too dangerously, but Claudine knew he was bordering terrible, terrible deeds. She was just glad she was far away from him now.

“Claudine.”

Her father lifted his head up, eyes saddened, but commanding in a sense as they stared into Claudine’s own. Claudine immediately knew that his next words would be incredibly important, that they would be of the utmost value to her and her life, as well as their entire household’s. She just knew that their weight would be something she would have to endeavor to bear for everyone’s sake.

She knew because he rarely ever asked her of anything that she did not desire. She knew that something must have happened to allow the Grand Duke to tremble in this way, before his nineteen-year-old daughter, with a gaze that was begging her to comply.

“You have to get married.”

//-//-//-//-//

Claudine swung her sword, ridding the area of the final beast and collecting its glowing core off the puddled ground. Handing the gem-like item to Hikari for safe-keeping, she slumped against a tree, sinking to the ground that dirtied her pants with mud that had formed from the night’s rain.

“Are you hurt, milady?” Hikari inquired, already rushing forward to do a thorough body-check for any injuries on Claudine.

“Nothing of the sort. Also, I told you not to address me that way while we’re out adventuring. What if someone found us out?” Claudine ran a hand through her damp bangs, grimacing at the repulsive feel and smell of blood and grime in her hair.

“My apologies.”

Times like these, Claudine wished she hadn’t focused too much on learning combat spells back then. She should have taken the foundational classes with Nana more seriously, and looked into metamorphosis magic sooner. She wouldn’t have to worry about issues such as being discovered then.

Better to start late then never, she supposed. She could only manage to change her hair and eye color, as well as clothes for a small amount of time for now, but she was working on changing her entire appearance for extended periods soon. Then she and Hikari could go off on any journey or mission without being recognized.

“Claudine?”

The soft calling made her smile. It was rare for her knight to address her so casually, and even rarer was the tenderness she allowed to escape in her voice. Claudine placed a hand on Hikari’s head, petting it lightly.

“Yes, Hikari?”

“Do you not want to get married, Claudine?”

The question wasn’t what she had expected. She hadn’t even told Hikari about her current situation yet. She must have listened in on the conversation secretly.

“If my dad had caught you...” Claudine laughed at the realization, shaking her head.

Hikari remained silent.

Claudine scratched her cheek, looking away from the knight’s expectant gaze. “It’s not as though I don’t want to.” She admitted. “I just...”

“Just?”

“I haven’t found a person I’d like to share that kind of joy with yet.” Claudine spoke with a loneliness to her tone that they both weren’t quite familiar with. “I haven’t gotten to know anyone who makes me want to experience that kind of relationship.”

Hikari didn’t seem to understand fully, but she nodded nonetheless. “Okay.” She decided not to push further, noticing her master’s discomfort. Instead, she held out a hand to aid her up on her feet.

“Thank you, Hikari.” For the assistance and for listening, Claudine said in her heart. “Shall we head back to the guild now? Wouldn’t want Cyrille to barge into my room first thing tomorrow morning and find it empty.” Claudine half-joked.

If Claudine knew her brother, which she did, she knew he’d have searched for her at the dinner table tonight already, but her father had likely made an excuse to keep him out of her hair ‘til morning. She already knew that he would want to speak to her on matters regarding the prince, or succession, or whatever it was he did that was likely no good.

If he ever got into Claudine’s room without supervision, she was afraid he’d stumble upon things he wasn’t supposed to, and would likely use it against her.

Her conversation with her father resurfaced in her mind. His words on finding a suitable partner, a suitor, and the reasons behind it were invasive, consuming her every thought.

Cyrille was trying to set her up with Prince Paris for some reason. He was willing to pull all stops to do so. It seemed that he had went ahead and made a proposal to the royal family under the authority of ‘Heir-apparent’ to the Capulet Dukedom. He’d sworn that once he was made Duke, she’d be married off into the imperial household as a way to strengthen the standing and influence of the emperor.

Whatever he had been promised to make him act so selfishly and vilely, Claudine didn’t even want to know.

As of now, he held no real power over her father. Neither did the first prince, in reality. Deep down, however, both Claudine and the Grand Duke knew there was more to this arrangement than two boys and their greedy egos being fed. He feared for the future.

With all they had already gotten away with in the past, Duke Capulet was suspecting that someone else held the strings to the puppets dancing to a tune. They had yet to know what gears were turning in a suspected grand scheme, but it must not come to pass. This was what their family feared the most, and why Claudine must not get involved with Paris.

In order to have a valid reason to reject such a candidate, she needed a better one. That was the part she had to play.

There was just one small problem-

“You there!”

A voice echoed through the shadow and mist of the forest, horse hooves stomping rapidly against the wet ground. Quickly, Claudine brandished her sword, pointing it in the direction from whence it came. “Hikari! Get behind me!” She commanded, left hand twitching in anticipation.

“Now see here, Milady. I’m the protector suppo-”

“Don’t move! Stay where you are and drop your weapons.” The voice commanded, a silhouette beginning to form in the distance.

“Like hell we’ll listen.” Claudine grumbled, sword still at the ready with a glow that traveled from its hilt to its blade.

“I’m warning you!” The voice echoed once more. “State your name and your business here. And don’t even think of trying to fight or escape.”

Claudine fixed her glare on the figure coming into the light of the clearing they were at, magic barely finishing its work of turning her hair black as Hikari’s shifted into a shorter cut. It was the best she could do at such short notice. Hopefully the night would be kind enough to be their mask and they wouldn’t be recognized afterwards should they escape successfully.

“Again, I order you to state your names and your business here, strangers. Are you not aware that these grounds belong to the imperial family?” The powerful stomping halted right in front of the women, a sharp huff from the steed sending them reeling back in disgust.

Finally, underneath the gaze of the moon, a figure cast in stardust light appeared before them, hooded cloak hiding the identity of the horseman.

“Who are you.”

Claudine continued to glower at the newcomer, unrelenting as she kept her lips tightly shut. Who was this person? Why had they suddenly been approached? This place was supposedly a mission ground for adventurers and hunters hoping to earn their keep by clearing out the ghouls and demons that infested this uninhabited land.

“Who. Are. You-”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Claudine spoke levelly through grit teeth, ready to slash at any given time should the newcomer move in a threatening pattern. “We’re only here on quest. Adventurers if you will.”

The cloaked man dismounted and walked up to Claudine, staring a few inches down at her. “Is that so?”

Claudine hated that he was even trying to intimidate her. Placing a firm hand on his chest, she pushed him away somewhat gently, not really wanting to potentially aggravate the already-tense situation. “Yes. That is so.” She confirmed, scowling. “For us at least. But what about you?”

Claudine eyed the man, watching for any suspicious movements. He returned the gaze, looking her up and down, searching her expression for signs of dishonesty. He seemed to have found nothing as his aura of hostility calmed drastically, and he sighed.

“I’m an imperial guard, patrolling.” As he said that, a sword was raised, still sheathed. Claudine was shown the imperial seal on the scabbard and she relaxed somewhat as the guard backed off with a small bow. “As I’ve mentioned before, these grounds are under the jurisdiction of the imperial household.”

“Apologies, sir. However, we were unaware of this fact as this place has been a known hotspot for adventurers for many years- or so we’ve heard.” Claudine explained, now sheathing her own sword.

“I understand.” The guard nodded. “I also apologize. While your statement held truth in the past, as of recent, this forest has been deemed more unsafe than it used to be. It’s not just magical beasts or ghouls that lurk these shadows now. Reports of spies, terrorists, and bandits trying to enter the capital via a newly discovered route through the woods have been reported, so we are at high alert.”

Claudine hummed, taking in their current situation. “I see.” Claudine nodded, agreeing to his words. She had expected these kinds of threats to arise as the peace treaty ceremony approached and more nobles from both empires flocked to the main city. It was an opportune moment to spark disaster, and even a civil war.

Good on the west to take quick measures.

“As such, I must ask for your identities to ensure the safety of all.”

Not so good for Claudine.

“I, er-”

“As you are adventurers- and I, of course, believe in your words, I would just like to see your identifications and know your names. It’s a quick process then I can let you go. That is... if you have nothing to be suspected of.”

Truthfully, she shouldn’t be as nervous as she suddenly was at the moment. However, there were a few issues with that request. For one, no one but Hikari, the Grand Duke, and the Head Guild Master of the Eastern Empire knew of her being an adventurer. She had been registered under special circumstances that had been agreed upon, and her issued permit in order to accept quests in the west was also an unorthodox arrangement, and very much a secret one.

When she’d first arrived at the guild hall, she was given an identification badge that also served as her permit like the rest of the adventurers. However, this did not contain her name at all. Instead, it only contained her registration code and where she had come from.

As a law-abiding citizen for the most part, she hadn’t ever needed to do much besides flashing the shiny trinket from a distance at other guards in passing.

This time, however, was different. She was certain that it would be scrutinized and most definitely questioned.

“You sure are taking an awful lot of time to simply identify yourself.” The stranger’s tone of voice was still calm, but his aura had shifted noticeably. “Is anything the matter?”

“No, not at all.” Claudine responded, proud that she’d managed to keep her voice steady. Reaching into her polo, she pulled out the chain that held her badge, presenting it to the imperial guard, praying that he wouldn’t check it as thoroughly as she’d feared.

“Um, excuse me. Why isn’t your name imprinted on it?”

‘Damn it.’

“Allow me to come clean.” Claudine spoke, instantly regretting her choice of words. It made her sound like she actually was someone to be wary of. She should conjure some believable alibi at least.

“Milady-” Hikari stepped forward, but was blocked with that same imperial-branded sword from earlier.

“It’s alright.” Claudine reassured before her knight could retaliate. One wrong move and they could actually be in jeopardy. Not only them, but the entire event of a peace treaty could lay to waste if they were not careful and would get found out.

“Go on.” Was the command.

“I’m actually...” Claudine licked her suddenly dry lips, thinking of how to say it. “I’m a daughter of a noble, and I’m operating under...  rather private conditions.”  

Okay, she hadn’t meant to be that truthful. If at all.

“How can I believe such a tall claim?” The cloaked man stepped closer to Claudine, now incredibly suspicious. “To which family do you belong?

Claudine had no time to secure a valid name, speaking the first that came to mind. “Sa-Saijou.” Another truth that would surely deepen her dug grave.

“Saijou? As in the Marquess Saijou?” She could almost shrink under that examining gaze. “I’ve never heard of or seen you before though.”

“I- I’m not his child, no. I’m a niece and I’ve been staying with relatives in the west. It was an arrangement made when I was very young, and I have only since been allowed to return here.”

‘Damn me and my inability to lie.’

“I’m sorry, as much as I’d like to believe you, I’ll have to take you with me for some questioning.”

No, no, no. This was not good. Claudine couldn’t risk more people prying into her identity. Also, she could feel the strain of her magic that was about to undo itself. She couldn’t keep up appearances- quite literally- for much longer.

“If you would come quietly.”

They had to bail.

“I’m sorry, but we-”

Suddenly, an arrow flew right by her head, barely grazing her cheek as sounds of multiple hooves and wolf-like growls filled the forest.

“Tsk.”

“Milady!”

“Stand back, you two.” The guard moved in front of them, sword drawn and aimed towards the origin of the arrow and sounds. Quickly, those same sounds began to shift and spread, as if circling them.

Claudine and Hikari quickly drew out their own swords, as the former launched a quick area check spell discreetly.

‘Twenty? No, thirty. Thirty men on horseback... at least ten hunting wolves.’

As Claudine weighed their situation, a harsh gust of wind came hurtling towards them, the hood on the imperial guards cloak coming off, revealing long brunette locks tied up in a ponytail.

The sight of such smooth strands on which the moon’s beams bounced off so gently almost made Claudine forget the gravity of their situation, eyes bewitched- captured- by stunning violet gems that she couldn’t believe she’d failed to take notice of before.

“It seems they have a mage in their midst.” The knight, now fully facing Claudine, addressed them. “I’m sorry to ask this of you after having suspected you; and while I still doubt your credibility, I would like to shamelessly enlist your assistance as of the moment.”

There was something in his gaze, in his entire beautiful expression, that compelled Claudine to know more, to say yes, to help him.

“Truly, you are quite shameless.” She grinned, head held high. “I would have done so without you asking.”

The smile she was rewarded with sent her heart into a frenzy. It wasn’t a handsome grin, no. Claudine took note that under the moonlit night, this man oozed a dignified beauty that was quickly distracting her from her mission at hand.

“You have my gratitude.”

Claudine nodded, willing herself to not stare for longer than necessary as she and Hikari took stance.

With their backs to each other, they stood in wait, counting down the seconds to their adversaries’ arrival. Claudine sighed ruefully as she felt her transformation spell fade, this instance confirmed as she glanced over at a now long-haired Hikari. She could just feel questioning eyes burning their gaze into her golden hair.

She was not looking forward to having to explain this too.

“What.” She spat, meeting the stare of her temporary ally, hoping no questions would come right now.

“Oh nothing. Just wanted to tell you something.”

“And that is?”

As she said that, gruff looking men arrived in the clearing, their disgusting smirks clearly indicated that they were looking down on the small group they’d surrounded.

Claudine was beginning to feel irritated. She hated being underestimated.

She barely caught the grin thrown her way as the guard launched himself at the group. She did, however, receive every single insulting word of challenge.

“Don’t hold me back now, Little Miss.”

Oh it was on,

“Insufferable asshole.”

//-//-//-//-//

Claudine did not frequent pubs. They weren’t her type of hangout spots. And while she wasn’t one for leisure cafe dates or tea parties with the other noble ladies, she did love the peace of libraries and the refreshing mountain creeks.

Needless to say, this place intimidated her more than any imperial guard could hope to.

“Not a good drinker?”

It wasn’t that. It really wasn’t.

If anything, both Claudine and Hikari were strong drinkers. Just not... public drinkers, she supposed.

“No.” Claudine sighed, taking a seat across the pretty man- damn, he was beautiful. Claudine would have almost mistaken him for a woman. He was tall, but not much taller than Claudine, and his voice wasn’t all too deep, so maybe she wasn’t wrong. Maybe.

“Then what has you so down, milady?” His tone of voice was playful, and Claudine knew she was being teased. He probably still didn’t believe in her whole ‘secret-noble-adventurer’ story.

“I’m just tired.”

“Hoh? Already? From that little excursion?”

Claudine growled, pounding the table with her fist. “Well, if someone would have just stayed out of my way while we were fighting earlier then-”

“Now, now. Don’t go blaming someone else for these kind of things, Young Miss. How are you ever going to survive as an adventurer if you blame others for your mistakes? Being able to take responsibility for one’s self is one of the most important traits in the field.”

Claudine clicked her tongue. She knew she was purposely being toyed with. “Shut up.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Miss.”

“And why the hell not?” Claudine’s glare went ignored as the man waved over a server to place an order.

Turning to her with that same smug smile that was equal parts gorgeous and incredibly annoying, the guard spoke. “Because I want to get to know you better.”

Claudine scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Starting with your names.” He clasped his hands together, resting his chin atop them. “I at least believe you are of some noble descent. If the silence of your companion, and her respect towards any of your earlier actions and decisions hold any significant hint to that.”

“Glad you’re at least that sharp.” Claudine huffed, putting up a mask to hide her inner thoughts that were struggling to come up with some alias for both her and Hikari.

“So. Names.”

Anything. Anything.

“J-Julie!”

Curse that damn book and the sudden memory of it!

Claudine inwardly cried as she gave away that piece of false information, even screwing up the actual name she was supposed to use.

“Julie... Saijou.” The brunette looked at her skeptically, but nodded. Somehow accepting it for now. “And your companion is?”

“She’s-”

“Kagura Hikari.”

“Hikari?!” Claudine whipped her head about in shock. So much for discretion! Just what was this girl thinking?!

“I’m sorry, Milady. But I think it is in our best interests to be as honest as possible.” Hikari bowed apologetically to Claudine before turning to her fellow knight, face blank and giving nothing away. “I am uncertain if you’ve heard of such details, but the Saijou’s have long since had ties with the Capulet family of the Western empire.”

Claudine covered her face with her hands, now groaning into her palms. She could only hope this wouldn’t ruin her already fragile freedom and put their positions at risk.

“They are the relatives milady has mentioned before. Her aunt married into the family, you see.”

Ah, so that was how Hikari was going to play it.

Well, maybe it wasn’t a bad excuse. Claudine believed the knight was considering any future encounters with the imperial guard since they would be attending palace events soon.

She spared the guard a glance, and was surprised to see that he actually looked to be convinced of those words. Not that they were much of a lie in the first place.

“I see! I understand. My apologies then.”

Claudine held back her sigh of relief, not wanting to give even the slightest thing away anymore.

“Yes, that’s it.” She said, trying to add onto their story. “And about the identification badge... well... you wouldn’t really expect any noble children, much less ladies, join an adventurer guild and all that.”

“I suppose so.” The guard chuckled.

Soon, their drinks had arrived, and Claudine found herself staring into the golden liquid the man across from her was downing to keep her eyes of his too pretty face, a question nagging on her mind.

“And you?”

“Hmm?” Placing his glass down, he gave her a curious, yet smug smile. “What about me?”

Somehow, Claudine wanted to wipe it off his stupid face.

“We gave you our names and background. It’s only common courtesy to introduce yourself properly in return, is it not?”

His growing grin was really pissing her off.

“Right, of course. Excuse me for my rudeness since earlier.”

“No kidding.” Claudine complained, waiting rather impatiently for his information. Not that she’d ever remember it, much less use the knowledge for any future plans. No. Not at all.

Not even for that.

“Hmm, well you could call me Romero.”

Romero.

Really, now. Romero?

Again, that damn book was really trying to force its way into Claudine’s thoughts. She internally cringed at the association.

“Romero. Of course that’s your name.” She rolled her eyes, not believing it for even one second. “You certainly look like a ‘Romero’.” She stated sarcastically. ‘Romero’ here looked as eastern as eastern gets.

“You wound me, Lady Julie. Can’t a man adapt a name of different culture simply because it suits him this much?”

“I didn’t say anything against it.” Claudine waved, taking a sip from her drink. It was cold, a little bitter. She liked it.

“Your expression says all there needs to be said.”

Claudine smirked, leaning across the table. “Oh? I’m glad it does then. Sir Romero.”

The man’s eyes glinted in amusement as he leaned forward as well. Claudine huffed. So this is how they were going to play it.

“So, Lady Julie. I said I’d like to get to know you.”

Claudine nodded. “Know all you want, then.”

“You say that so easily, but are you sure?” Really, this man unnerved her like no one else. His gaze was piercing, yet dull. It was clear, but betrayed no thoughts nor intentions of his.

Claudine nodded again, but a little less confident now.

“Then, if I may be so bold as to ask,” Romero began. “What business do you have here in the capital? Besides the whole peace treaty, I suppose. If I recall correctly, it is not a requirement for all nobles to attend, and I know the property of both the Saijou’s and Capulet’s are a ways away from here.”

Claudine swallowed a lump in her throat, wondering what she should say. “Isn’t it the greatest honor for any noble to be able to claim that they stood as personal witness to the changing of times?”

What a generic answer.

Bless Junna’s etiquette lessons that were coming to fruition.

“Ehh, how boring~”

Somewhat.

“Be that as it may, it’s the truth.” Claudine raised her glass back up to her lips, taking in more of that golden liquid.

“Is that so? Just that? Nothing else?” Romero pressed.

“That’s all I’m willing to divulge, Sir Romero.” Claudine said sternly, eyes ordering him to back down. Even for an imperial knight, wasn’t this a little too impudent?

“Fair, fair.” Romero responded, hands up in the air in surrender. “I must have overstepped my boundaries. My apologies.”

Claudine downed her drink, ignoring him for a moment.

“I’m simply curious. And to think, for the sole purpose of this event, you went out of your way to get an adventuring permit for quests from the main guild when you might only be staying a short while.” Romero continued to seek her gaze, peskily grinning in wait. “As an imperial guard, I’m just concerned, milady. It’s part of the job.”

Claudine gave him a blank look. Romero seemed unfazed.

“I just need a few more details for my report, that’s all. Something to make your story believable enough to not be sought out by other guards who aren’t as kind and considerate as me.” He winked to accentuate his statement, and Claudine threw him a disgusted look.

“If you were the least bit as considerate as you claim to be, you’d have been quiet for the last hour.”

“Harsh words, Milady. I only want to kno-”

“Milady is here to get married.” Hikari slammed her mug on the table, pinning her gaze on the troublesome man. “Now that you know, stop bothering my master.”

“Hikari!” Claudine didn’t know whether she should be touched at the intervention, or frustrated at the reveal.

“What a loyal guardian.” Romero complimented with a grin. “You’re the kind of escort the imperial palace would love to have.”

It was almost as if he were holding out bait for Hikari to take. Claudine didn’t like it.

“Excuse me, but Hikari is-”

“I belong solely to my Master. I serve no one else but her.  My loyalty has been sworn. Your words are kind, but they are not right. Not for me. I’m sorry.”

“Hikari...”

Romero and Hikari’s gazes remained locked in a contest, waiting for one or the other to crack first. Claudine watched on with concern. She hoped they wouldn’t get into any serious quarrel.

To her fortune, Romero finally broke. Broke into a fit of laughter, tears of amusement spilling that he quickly wiped away.

Claudine allowed herself to sigh in relief as she finally relaxed in her seat for the first time that night.

Romero finally calmed enough to begin talking again, much to Claudine’s chagrin. “Married. I see. Married, huh?”

Claudine narrowed her eyes at the amused man, scowl deep. “And what of it? Do you think I’m too unfit for such a maiden’s dream?” If he said yes, Claudine might just be tempted to chop a ball off or too. Tempting beauty of this man be damned. He should try to see if he could snag any lady after tonight.

“No, no. Nothing of that sword, Milady.” He smiled, settling down and emptying the remaining contents of his cup. “Just... Who is the lucky fellow to have caught such a strong-hearted beauty such as yourself?”

Claudine actually blushed at his words this time. Though she did curse her heart for being swayed so easily like that, and by this insufferable man, no less.

“There is... no man... or anyone at all.” She managed to say through grit teeth, slightly embarrassed at that truth that she had about zero suitors coming for her.

She was surprised to see that Romero looked genuinely surprised. It wasn’t some faux, mocking expression. He seemed sincerely shocked at the reveal that Claudine was as single as the lonesome sun in the daytime.

“No one?”

“Not one.”

“For someone as charming as you?” He blinked those big, violet eyes, honest and innocent-looking for once.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, good sir.” Claudine chuckled, actually finding Romero more endearing than annoying at that moment. A shocker for herself.

“I just can’t believe that no one would approach you or ask you. You.” He gestured towards her. “You’re appearance is definitely a win, but more-so is your personality.” He openly praised Claudine. “You are a lovely being. I’m not saying this shallowly. I truly mean every word, Milady.”

Claudine felt her heart warm a little at that.

True, she’s heard those words before from close friends and family. Said in a particular way that she just knew was honest. However, they knew her. They knew Claudine and how she really was. As for the other noble men and women she’d met, they had always seemed to presume things about her based on rumor and first impressions, never attempting to truly know Claudine enough to say compliments that Claudine could think to consider as truthful.

Empty laud, frivolous words, backstabbing comments.

A beautiful face, they said. A cunning mind. A brash personality, an unladylike disposition.

Claudine never claimed they were false, but they weren’t exactly accurate.

Just like that dumb book.

Why did Claudine feel so moved all of a sudden. It wasn’t as though Romero had said much more than others, now that she thought about it. She’d probably have already heard those utterances before. So why?

Was it his tone? The way he looked straight into her eyes with an unguarded sincerity?

Before Claudine could find the answers to her internal queries, the door to the pub burst open, a group of men tossing over tables, and harassing the nearest bar patrons, in search of something or someone.

Romero got up from the table, as did Hikari and Claudine, hands already on their swords, ready to swing.

Claudine’s eyes met with one of the men in front, and something seemed to click in the air.

A finger was raised and pointed right at her.

“Them.”

And they charged.

“Hikari!”

“Yes, Milady.”

The knight moved swiftly, positioning herself in front of Claudine to ward off those who targeted her master, buying Claudine time as she tried to infuse as much magic as she could into her sword and limbs. She didn’t have enough mana for an entire body enhancement as she’d used a fair amount up during the earlier hunts, disguise, and fights. She knew she had barely enough to spare. Just enough to hopefully end this.

She prayed it was enough.

Romero seemed busy as well, sword clashing against spear and blades, shields and armor.

He should be fine. Claudine couldn’t spare him much worry if she had to worry about herself first.

Other patrons had also joined in the fray, but it was clear that there was a difference in the power the intruders held.

With her amplifications complete, Claudine readied herself, and in one motion, swooped past a flurry of enemies, knocking them to the ground before a new wave could approach her.

Were these also among those that Romero had mentioned? Terrorists who had actually managed to enter the city? This wasn’t good. They needed to subdue them before more damage could be done.

Where were the other imperial guards anyway? Why was Romero even patrolling alone with such a dangerous agenda at hand?

She didn’t have time to entertain any of those questions, she decided. Claudine knew she had to focus on what was happening right now. Those could be saved for later.

Focus.

Focus.

Foc-

“Julie.” Romero called.

Claudine almost forgot that that was her name at the moment, barely managing to send him a confirming nod. “I’m a little busy, but what is it?” She responded, knocking someone over on the head.

“I just thought of something.”

Was it a plan on how to defeat all these men for efficiently? An easier way to protect all the innocent people from these terrorists? If so, Claudine was all ears. “Speak.”

“What about me? What about us?”

‘Huh?’

Claudine managed to throw him an incredulous look as Hikari kicked an attacker away just in time before he could touch Claudine.

“What about you- or us?” She asked, restraining another man with a single binding spell before taking away his consciousness.

“What if you...” Romero dodged a slash, countering with his own. Another masked man made a grab for him, but he easily turned the situation around, ending up on top of him, standing atop a few other bodies.

“I?”

“What if you married me?”

Claudine managed to smash a man’s skull against the wall just as she stared dumbfounded at the imperial knight who looked amazingly serious, and undeterred by all that was occurring around him.

Really?

“...Are we really having this conversation here? Right now?” Claudine questioned, movements fluid as she added to the pile of bodies behind her that were slowly being tied up and secured by a few free bar patrons.

“Yes? Why?” Romero replied nonchalantly, repelling a blow with his sword.

Claudine could not believe the audacity of this man. “Couldn’t it, oh I don’t know, wait until things have settled down?!”

“Couldn’t what wait?” Romero said clueless, stepping back from the force of one particular strike, approaching Claudine’s space.

“This talk!” She answered back, vexed.

“I’ll have you know I’m a hundred percent serious on this proposal. Despite its untimeliness.”

“And I can’t be serious thinking about it because there are so many things I have to consider. One of those being why I must reject your ‘serious proposal’.” Claudine growled as someone managed to hit her leg hard enough to cause her to go off balance.

Romero had caught her just in time, righting her and going back to his own fight. Claudine felt a little annoyed that he had so easily switched gears and was able to handle both his enemy and ally.

“Why ever not? It’s not like anyone else has made an offer?” Romero sounded disappointed.

Claudine really couldn’t explain it right now. Not in this situation, and certainly not as other people listened in.

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Just because!” Claudine yelled, sending one man up into the ceiling in uncontrolled temper.

“I need a concrete reason, milady. Else I’m unwilling to step down from this.” Romero laughed, continuing on with his battle as he and Claudine fought back-to-back.

“And I’m telling you we can talk about it later.”

“Just trying to tell you that I’m a very good candidate, Lady Julie.”

“No thank you, Sir Romero.” Claudine rolled her eyes, tossing another enemy away to the side.

“And that is because?”

Claudine noticed a quick shift out of the corner of her eye. The refraction of light off a blade gave her all the information she needed to calculate a countermeasure. With her feet firmly planted, she twisted her torso, channeling enough energy to deliver a speedy lethal blow into the attacker’s ribcage-

...and apparently also Romero’s who had decided to jump in front of her in a chivalrous attempt at saving her.

A wrong decision, clearly.

Both he and their foe dropped to the ground, on the obvious brink of consciousness.

Claudine’s mind flew into panicked disarray as she quickly knelt over her comrade, trying to think of how to help him.

“Romero! I’m sorry!!! But you’re an idiot!” She began to spout words out so quickly. “You should know that I’m a trained fighter. And why did you do that! You clearly saw what I was doing! This is why you shouldn’t interfere with my battles! Also what was with that sudden proposal in the middle of it all huh?! Are you trying to get us killed?!”

“Milady-” Hikari was at her side, trying to calm her as the fighting had finally subsided. Claudine’s vision however, was unexpectedly tunneled, worry apparent on her face as she desperately tried to aid the fallen knight.

“There’s a time and place for everything, Romero!” Claudine continued to scold, hands already taking on a healing glow. “You ought to be more mindful. And you claim you’re an imperial knight?!”

“Master Clau-”

“I fear for the empire if all the knights are like you. What, did you think you were saving me by placing yourself in front of me?”

“Stupid Romero. Now you’ve gotten hurt. You weren’t focusing at all, were you? And all for a silly proposal?!”

“Milady, I think he’s losing consciousness-”

“And you wouldn’t even let me explain why I clearly have to reject your proposal! I have very specific conditions, mind you. So don’t go mocking me once you hear them.

“Milady!”

“You see, I can’t accept your proposal because...” Claudine finally took a deep breath, a pause for once.  

Hikari tried to tell her that Romero had long since been knocked out, but Claudine couldn’t seem to hear her. At this point, she’d realized it would be better to give up and allow Claudine to settle down on her own.

Hikari only hoped her Master wouldn’t break down at the realization and the embarrassing memories to come.

“-I like women.”

“...”

“...”

Hikari sighed, finally seeing the truth sink in for Claudine as her eyes widened and her hands trembled in an emotion that was no longer just concern.

“... he heard nothing, did he?”

She was in for a long day tomorrow.

“Milady...”

A/N: Uh. I think I did my best atm. Yey. If you’re wondering why Claudine has eastern friends, and supposedly they go way back, as well as why her knight is also from the east, well... see you next ep! Or I think next next chap? Ma- er, Romero needs a turn.

Also, before ppl complain to me about genderbending or making this mlw, I’m not one to mis-tag something. Just saying.

I apologize for OOC-ness

Also I’m just... really tired. I wanted to amuse myself by writing something silly or like... unusual-ish. Idk.

Meh.

~Shintori Khazumi