#HOWEVER! unfortunately (affectionate) they are my muses and i am (more than a lot) imagining them reading my stuff—out loud

[per-aspera-ad-aporia]

i started writing (fiction) again! after so long. it feels so nice. i have tiny inklings of stories, and i wish i knew how they ended—so i suppose i'll have to find out. (i hope i can.) (not now, however, as it is 1.20 am and tomorrow [today] is a working day.)

i also found a stupid (affectionate) short piece i wrote in 2020 (during lockdown, when i should have been writing my thesis) and damn, i used to have skills.

[revolutionary-demosthenes]

Louis de Manoël de Végobre (Pt. 2/2)

So, now that I’ve written about De Végobre’s life in general, on to the second part... which I know I should’ve posted like a week ago. (Sorry!)

And as a prelude, let me just say that since there is so little on De Végobre, it is hard to talk definitively about really anything in his life. This post is going by the information that I have at the moment. 

So, was De Végobre likely romantically and/or sexually attracted to men? If so, who was he in a relationship with?

As mentioned before, De Végobre, Kinloch, and Laurens were very close while they all lived in Geneva. Even Gregory Massey, when examining their bond, points out that this was “the beginning of a pattern: he [John Laurens] continually centered his life around homosocial attachments to other men.”*(John Laurens and the American Revolution by Gregory Massey, page 40.)

(I wouldn't agree on the “homosocial” part.) 

Francis Kinloch and John Laurens were pretty likely in a relationship for at least some of their time in Geneva, but the question is, how did De Végobre fit into that?

The way De Végobre writes to Laurens after he hasn’t written for a little while also definitely points to a very strong friendship at least. Not writing for long periods of time was not unusual for John, the unusual thing here is how much Kinloch and De Végobre minded his casual attitude towards correspondence. This could also be indicative of a stronger relationship between them.

As an interesting comparison, Alexander Hamilton wrote this to Laurens on September 11th, 1779:

“I acknowlege but one letter from you, since you left us, of the 14th of July which just arrived in time to appease a violent conflict between my friendship and my pride. I have written you five or six letters since you left Philadelphia and I should have written you more had you made proper return. But like a jealous lover, when I thought you slighted my caresses, my affection was alarmed and my vanity piqued. I had almost resolved to lavish no more of them upon you and to reject you as an inconstant and an ungrateful [blank space].”

This is Hamilton after Laurens hasn’t responded to “five or six” letters.

This is Végobre after Laurens hasn’t written back to one letter (I’ve quoted this in the pt. 1):

“When I have wrote [&] sent an epistle, I am always imagining the history of it; I long to see it [illegible], arriving, read, and answered; I Keep in my memory its date, I calculate the time of its arrival, and I impatiently expect the time of receiving an answer. This longed for answer arrives at length; then I am contented, and beginning another letter I prepare myself for enjoying still such a pleasure. But—if no answer… What must I think? I am concerned, sometimes a little angry. How does my friend do? Is he sick, absent, or idle in answering? Suspense is a hard thing.

I have wrote to you on the 24th of December, you have not yet answered. If you are guilty of negligence, pray do not aggravate your fault by a longer delay. Fault, I say; indeed I think it to be a fault to let pass over a great time without answering the letter of one who deserved answer. There is the end of my chiding, and I hope my thanks will soon began: I mean, that my second stroke shall get me an answer. Indeed, I would be sorry if your continued silence would hinder me from setting pen to paper a third letter.”

“How angry they get when you don’t respond to letters” is not by any means a foolproof way to measure attachment, but the similarities between the responses are interesting. Hamilton’s is more teasing, but the basic message remains “Please write to me. I’ve written to you, but I’ll stop if you don’t write enough.”

Some more concrete examples of strong affection between De Végobre and Laurens can be found in other letters from De Végobre to Laurens, such as one written the 24th of December, 1774. In this letter, De Végobre again drops some very blatant hints to please, please write, and closes it with this:

“Adieu, I dont know if in this language I have been able to express my heart’s true sentiments; you shall see in this letter my knowledge in your tongue; you will laugh at my mistakes in grammar, but not at my sentiments.”

There are two someone’s De Végobre’s “sentiments” could be referring to. One is John Laurens, but the other is Francis Kinloch. In this same letter to Laurens, we find our first evidence that Kinloch and De Végobre could have been lovers. De Végobre writes in the above letter,

“...never, never in my life I have been so well entertained as when I read Milton; and why? First, for Poet’s Excellency, and secondly and chiefly because I read it with Kinloch. My beloved, my dearest friend is Kinloch; how happy am I, when I teach him some part of natural Philosophy, when I read with him both English and French Poets, when I talk with him about various matters plainly and heartily as with a friend! Let me say again, Kinloch is my beloved, my dearest friend.”

Well. This kind of speaks for itself. De Végobre certainly uses some very affectionate wordings here, and calls Kinloch his “beloved” and “dearest friend” twice in two sentences.

I do take note of Végobre saying “as with a friend,” as opposed to “with my friend” or something along those lines. The way Végobre phrases it could suggest that Kinloch is something other than a friend, though Végobre also calls Kinloch his “dearest friend” a couple times. Just... something to notice.

The best way to get more information on the nature of Végobre and Kinloch’s relationship would be letters between the two, but unfortunately if such letters do exist, they aren't available to the public. However, Kinloch does mention De Végobre in a letter way later, in 1804. This letter was to none other than Johannes von Müller. 

As you may know, Kinloch came back to Geneva with his family in 1804, and Müller actually might have stayed with him and his wife (after she had a baby and the midwife moved out.) Anyway, in this letter, (which thankfully is in English,) Kinloch is musing about remembering his earlier times in Geneva, and he says, “...De Vegobre I have not seen.”

So what? Well, this casual reference implies that Müller at least knew of, if not knew Végobre, especially as for most others mentioned in this letter Kinloch explains their connection to him. And there’s more-- Charles Victor de Bonstetten, Müller’s lover, also mentioned De Végobre in passing in a letter. This adds to the evidence of De Végobre being at least a little a part of this pretty-openly-gay-for-the-time-period group of people. 

In La France protestante: ou, Vies des protestants français qui se sont fait un nom dans l'histoire depuis les premiers temps de la réformation jusqu'à la reconnaissance du principe de la liberté des cultes par l'Assemblée nationale; ouvrage précéde d'une notice historique sur le protestantisme en France, suivi de pièces justificatives, et rédigé sur des documents en grand partie inédits, Volumes 7-8 by Eugene and Emile Haag, it says, “He also spent some time at the castle of Coppet with M[adame] de Staël, who more than once used his vast education and his extraordinary memory.” Here’s the thing-- Madame de Stäel and Coppet are also mentioned a lot in the book, Briefkorrespondenzen Karl Viktor von Bonstettens und seines Kreises, which is essentially what it sounds like; a ton of Bonstetten, Müller, Kinloch, Frederike Brun, etc’s correspondence. From what I can figure (the book’s mostly in German) Müller and possibly some others were at Coppet in 1804. The frustrating thing about the quote about De Végobre and de Stäel is that there’s no dates as to when he stayed with her, only that it was between 1789 and 1814. It may have been in 1807, but whether he was there before then I don’t know. But at the very least, De Végobre had some close mutual friends with Müller and Bonstetten.

As I mentioned before, De Végobre never married. De Végobre seems to have been a friendly and affectionate individual, and he lived a long time. And it was also rarer to not marry back then. Why, then, would he never marry? The reason that strikes me as most likely when put with other evidence is that he was attracted to men.

[cannibalisticapple]

So around a week or two ago I sent an anonymous ask to @corndog-patrol suggesting Villain Mic finding a Cat!Shouta. When I saw it on my phone in the car, I had to stop myself from reading until I could get home and look at it in full on my computer. It has been so much better than I could have ever imagined.

Seeing all the doodles and artwork so far has been a HUGE inspiration for me, and I ended up writing this over the past week. Because I am physically incapable of writing anything short, it kinda ballooned to almost 8k words, partially because I ended up adding to it as more art was posted. The majority of it was written before the bowtie pic though, including the opening scene. (Fun fact: I originally called Shouta “Pepper”.)

It’s been a while since I’ve posted, well, anything to Tumblr, so apologies for any weird formatting issues! And thanks again to @corndog-patrol for making such a great Villain Mic AU! Anyways, enjoy!

The Adventures of Puddles

           Given his known fondness for cats, most of Shouta’s friends and colleagues often teased him about how getting hit by a Quirk that turned him into a cat would be a dream come true for him.

           They were wrong.

           The hero-turned-feline felt thoroughly irritated as he loped down the street, the heavy downpour soaking him thoroughly and weighing down his thick black fur with water. He’d been turned into a cat while heading to UA just that evening, and since then he’d been rather unhappy. Nemuri had laughed her head off when she found him halfway to her apartment with his goggles around his neck and his capture weapon dragging along the ground behind him, which really hadn’t helped much.

           Considering he’d been found by Nemuri relatively fast, he should be safe and dry right now, but then Nemuri had taken him to UA. Logically it made sense of course, Shouta would be safe there and he’d have easy access to a support network to find a way to reverse the transformation. Unfortunately, he hadn’t accounted for how the kids would react. One of them had sighted Nemuri carrying him inside, and Nemuri had no hesitation dumping him on the student with a sadistic grin while she went to meet with the other staff.

           After spending an hour being assaulted by his students cooing over him and ruffling him from twenty different directions at once (literally), he’d desperately craved some space and alone time. The sight of Snipe and Cementoss sneaking around with cameras and phones ready, clearly intending to take photos of his ordeal, had been the last push he needed to jump the wall and get away from UA for a bit. He knew the area well enough, he should be safe to walk around a couple hours even as a cat. Key word: should.

           It was just his luck he’d get chased by someone’s dog for what must have been half a mile, ending with him lost in an only vaguely familiar part of town. His attempts to find his way back had only succeeded in making him more lost over the ensuing hours, the vaguely familiar scenery giving way to buildings he absolutely did not recognize. And of course, it also had to start raining shortly after that.

           Right now, he just wanted to get out of the heavy rain. He was wet, cold, tired, and felt sore in ways he didn’t even know possible until being turned into a cat. Turns out having your body undergo a radical physical transformation tended to put some stress on muscles and preexisting injuries. Go figure. At least his dry eye hadn’t seemed to transfer over, but that didn’t make him any less stressed.

           The feeling only amplified when he stepped in a puddle and proceeded to plummet into it with a startled yowl, water splashing everywhere. Of course this sidewalk would have a giant hole in it that flooded with water and turned into a miniature, cat-sized bath. The hole was deep enough his head barely stuck above the water, the chilly temperature making him shudder. He scrabbled at the edges with an annoyed growl, trying to pull himself out.

           “Hey, you okay little buddy?” The voice behind him made him freeze, the fur on his back standing on end. Shit. He knew that voice. His head whipped around to see a man crouching behind him, and while he wasn’t wearing his costume, Shouta couldn’t think of anyone else with a loud voice who also sported a stupid mustache like that. This had to be Present Mic.

           Great, just great, he thought sarcastically. For some odd reason the idiot wasn’t wearing a raincoat in this weather, his long blond hair partially pulled into a bun with the loose strands plastered to his face and shoulders by the rain. How the guy could even see with all those water droplets on his glasses was beyond Shouta. “Oh man, I always said someone was gonna fall into this stupid thing. Come on, let’s get you out.”

           Shouta silently glowered at the villain as he reached out to him but made no effort to push him away. Trying to get a good grip on the pavement was tricky with the rain making everything so slippery. Maybe if he could figure out how to get his claws to pop out, but he’d yet to figure out a lot of his new form’s functions. Frankly, the fact he could walk at all was a miracle considering he’d never used a four-legged body before.

           So the sulking cat allowed the blond villain to carefully slip his hands around Shouta’s... armpits? Well, his hands went between around the edges of his front legs and shoulders, so, close enough—and pull him out of the hole. Rather than put him down like he expected though, Mic shifted his hold to carry the grumpy feline, turning to walk to a nearby apartment building. “Come on, let’s get you inside so we can dry you off. My place is just over there!”

           ...And now Mic was taking him to his apartment. Crap. Shouta naturally began to struggle, wanting to get the hell back to UA instead, but Mic had a surprisingly strong grip. In the end he gave up and just sulked in the villain’s arms with a grumpy scowl as the blond draped a towel over him, resigned to his fate. At least he was out of the rain.

           “Oh man, you’re lucky I found you!” Mic commented, looking down at him with a concerned frown. “A lil’ fella like yourself could drown in all that rain!” He switched on the light switch by the door, illuminating one of the most rundown and shabby apartments Shouta had ever seen. And considering his meager salary as an underground hero, he’d seen a lot of crummy places while apartment hunting. “You’ll be safe here, just make yourself at home you little cutie!”

           Shouta just silently scowled at his current predicament. He just wanted to get warm and dry and take a nice, long nap until this stupid Quirk wore off. (It better wear off.)

           The Quirk did not wear off.

             Morning found Shouta still very much a feline, much to his ire. He woke up well before Mic, the blond snoozing away in his bedroom (Shouta had chosen to sleep on the couch, which had literal patches sewn on it, he’d never seen that outside cartoons), and Shouta felt no small amount of irritation at the fact he still had this stupid feline body. At least he was warm and dry now. That didn’t make him any happier about the situation though.

           A glance at the bathroom mirror had revealed himself to be particularly mangy and stocky rather than sleek and agile-looking like most cats. His long hair had turned into thick, shaggy fur, the black coloration adding an air of dirtiness as opposed to the soft and fluffy feeling exuded by Mic’s actual cat. Sprinkles, if the name written on the food bowl was accurate.

             Speaking of the food bowl, Mic was now beaming down at Shouta as he sat next to the now-full bowl. “Come on, it’s safe to eat!” Mic goaded—nay, practically pleaded with him, his mouth pulled into a pout as he looked down at Shouta. “You have to be hungry, little guy!”

             Shouta just glowered at him, ignoring the bowl. Nope. Not gonna eat that. He might be a cat for now (seriously this stupid thing better wear off on its own), but he was NOT going to eat cat food.

             Mic sighed, seeming to accept the fact as he turned to begin rifling through the cabinet. Good, looks like he got the picture and was looking for something else to feed him. “It’s the bowl, right?” he muttered. Wait, what? Mic turned around holding a cracked plastic soup bowl, dumping another scoop of kitty kibble into it before setting it next to Shouta. “There! This bowl doesn’t smell like Sprinkles, so it should be good, right?”

             He beamed down at Shouta, clearly proud of his understanding of cats. Shouta just stared at him blandly, making no move to touch it, and Mic soon deflated. “Eh, you’ll get hungry try it eventually,” he muttered, turning away with a sigh and trudging off to his bedroom. Shouta watched him leave with a blank face, still pointedly ignoring the bowl of cat food.

             As he sat there Sprinkles sauntered over and plopped down on the floor next to him, blinking her large eyes at him as she studied him curiously. Normally, Shouta would be happy to be in the presence of a cat, especially one who seemed as sweet and friendly as Sprinkles. Seeing as he himself was currently a cat, however, he found his joy slightly diminished. He couldn’t exactly pet her with paws, which sucked since her fluffy white fur looked particularly soft and silky.

             For now, he settled for patting her leg with his paw to try to satiate the urge. Sadly, it did not have the same effect as running his fingers through her fur. He sulked up until he heard a gasp, and turned to see Mic staring at him with sparkly eyes from the door to his bedroom. He bounced over with a giant grin and bent down next to them. “So adorable!” he gushed, rubbing Shouta’s head affectionately.

             At this point, Shouta’s broody mood outweighed the urge to claw off his hand.

             “So, I already have Sprinkles,” Mic mused aloud, “So what do you think of the name... Pickles?”

             Scratch that. Shouta proceeded to do so literally, highly satisfied by the startled and pained yelp from the blond.

             “Ow! Ow! Okay, not Pickles! Ouch, that really hurts!”

              Day two of being a cat. Shouta was now covered in clothes while Mic loudly rooted through his dresser.

             “Where is that shirt?” Mic grumbled to himself, tossing a pair of jeans over his shoulder. Why he apparently stored pants and shirts in the same drawers, Shouta had no idea. Why did a person need this many clothes? Granted, he barely bothered with more than the minimal amount needed himself. But still.

             Also, what was that guy even aiming at? Shouta was sitting in the doorway, not even fully in the room!

             Mic made a sound of triumph as he held up a shirt in an eye-searing chartreuse, on the more yellow end of the spectrum. A fact Shouta knew only because he’d spent an hour arguing with one of his students over demanding to use the color in their costume two years ago. Why. Why did anyone have clothing in that shade.

             Mic turned around with a grin, but his smile quickly faded to a look of confusion. “Puddles? Puddles, where are you?” Shouta’s eye twitched, still displeased with the name (seriously, what was with this guy’s preoccupation with English words?), but it beat literally every other suggestion the villain had. Even if he didn’t like the whole reminder of being pulled out of a puddle.

             He gave a displeased mrow and Mic blinked and bent down next to the discarded pile of clothes, lifting up a pants leg to see Shouta’s eyes glowering up at him. “Oh, there you are, you silly baby!” Shouta glared at him, willing all his disdain to show through his eyes. Mic was unfazed. “Aw, geez, now I need to wash the hair off this stuff!” Mic playfully scolded as he started picking up the clothes.

             You literally threw it on me, Shouta thought silently. You have no one to blame but yourself for this. He waited patiently for Mic to lift the clothes off him, depositing them on his bed to be washed later. Shouta took silent pleasure in the glimpse of black hairs stuck to them.

             Mic pulled on the eye-searing shirt while Shouta continued to sit and brood, chattering all the while. “Man, I am so stoked to see this band tonight! I feel kinda bad leaving you alone here all day when you’re still getting used to the place, but you’ll have Sprinkles to keep you company so you shouldn’t be too lonely!” He grabbed what Shouta presumed to be his work uniform and folded the shirt over his arm, giving Shouta a final pet as he strode past him. Shouta remained in place, pointedly ignoring him as he continued to sulk and brood.

             Approximately ten seconds later Mic returned, looking notably dejected. “Your bowl is still full,” he said glumly. “Are you seriously on some sort of hunger strike?” Shouta made a rumbling noise halfway between a meow and a grumble, and Mic groaned, dragging his hand down his face. “C’mon, Puddles, I’m on a limited budget here! Do I need to steal expensive food for you?”

             Shouta responded with a pointed glare. He would NOT condone Mic stealing cat food for him. As a hero, he couldn’t allow even the most trivial of crimes, even if they had good intentions behind them. Plus, he had a feeling the blond would try feeding him a wet canned food next, and the thought of the slimy-looking can-shaped meat chunk just made him want to shudder.

             (He pointedly ignored the fact he stole one of the pieces of chicken from Mic’s dinner last night when the blond wasn’t looking. He was a cat right now, cats did not need to obey any laws, and snagging food from someone’s plate wasn’t exactly illegal anyway.)

             “I still have that concert tonight so it’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” Mic sighed, and then nodded to himself with a look of renewed resolve. “I can’t let you starve though! We’ll have to improvise for now!” He marched off to the kitchen, and Shouta followed silently, letting himself feel a glimmer of hope. That hope was soon rewarded when he found Mic rooting through the fridge, pulling out a can of sardines.

             Not my first choice but I’ll take it. Shouta trotted over as Mic put it on a paper plate, hopping onto the counter to begin chowing down before he could even pick up the plate. Relief visibly flooded Mic’s face as he ate, his shoulders slumping and a breath of air escaping him. “Oh thank goodness, I was getting worried there! Kinda picky for a stray though, aren’tcha?” Shouta just rumbled in the back of his throat, too busy eating to respond otherwise.

             “Welp, I gotta run if I want to get to work on time,” Mic said, glancing at the clock. “See you later, cool cats! Sprinkles, make sure Puddles doesn’t get into trouble while I’m gone!” The white cat meowed in response, and with a jaunty wave Mic departed, the click of the door shutting and locking ringing particularly heavily in the ensuing silence. Shouta’s head snapped up, eyes locking on the door.

             Okay, he’s finally gone. Time to see if I can find an escape route. Shouta had no intention of staying here absolutely longer than necessary; the sooner he found someone he knew, the better. Finishing off the sardines, he leaped off the counter and made his way to the door, determined to get out.

             Ten minutes of trying to open it later, he found his resolve faltering though. Cat paws just weren’t good for turning round doorknobs, even with the advantage of knowing how they worked. And that didn’t even account for trying to just reach it. There were no convenient surfaces near the handle to stand on, so he spent most of those ten minutes just hopping up and down trying to reach it.

             As he found himself clinging to the knob with all four limbs trying desperately not to slide off, he finally conceded this probably wouldn’t work.

             Letting himself fall to the ground, he proceeded to sullenly slink to the rest of the apartment to search for an alternate route. He’d neglected to explore the apartment the previous day beyond the bathroom and the main living space, as he’d rather not look around a villain’s place too much. Beyond the whole “don’t intend to stay more than a day” thing, he didn’t really feel keen on the “invasion of privacy” thing. The man might be technically a villain, but honestly, Shouta viewed him as more of a nuisance than dangerous.

             After checking the window in the living room and confirming it would be even more of a hassle to open than the front door, he reluctantly turned his attention to the bedroom. The door was half-closed, and he felt apprehensive as he crept towards it because, again, invasion of privacy. He’d only sat outside the door that morning because Mic was being noisy and he was curious. He hadn’t been able to see a window then, but there could be one on the wall outside his view, and if he got lucky it would be open.  So he nudged open the door, looking around, and—

             ............

             That was a lot of Eraserhead merchandise.

             Shouta just stared at the collection of posters and other objects in the corner where two dressers met, as if staring would make it disappear or somehow become... something else. Anything else. But nope, it all stayed in place, from the folded shirt to the homemade banner with ‘ERASERHEAD’ written in large English letters.

             I don’t even HAVE merchandise. What the actual hell. Those looked like replicas of his capture weapon and goggles, though the color was slightly off, and... Was that a plushie of him? Hopping onto one of the dressers and prodding at the small doll curiously, he confirmed it was, indeed, a hand-made plushie of him.

              Mic returned several hours later to Sprinkles pawing at Shouta as he hid under the couch. Mic, naturally, just assumed Shouta was spooked and proceeded to spend about half an hour trying to coax him out. Shouta pointedly ignored his cooing and just remained curled up in the safe embrace of the darkness, wishing desperately he could unsee what he had seen.

              Day three of being a cat. Shouta had finally emerged from his spot under the couch to dine on more sardines, having resumed his usual cool demeanor after the initial shock and embarrassment at seeing the shrine. What shrine? Shouta saw absolutely no hand-made plushies or other merchandise of himself, Mic’s room was absolutely normal. Well, as normal as a bedroom belonging to Present Mic could be.

             More important than nonexistent merchandise, he was starting to wonder if the Quirk had a time limit. Was he doomed to be forever a cat? No, no, he’d give it a week before he started to panic. A lot of long-lasting Quirks had a week-long time limit, there was no reason to assume it didn’t have a limit. No need to freak out just yet—

             What was that spot?

             Shouta froze, transfixed by a yellowish dot moving on the floor next to him. Gaze following it intently, he tentatively slapped his paw over it, only for it to appear on top of it. He blinked in mild surprise, and when he withdrew his paw the spot didn’t move with it instead, remaining in the exact place on the floor.

             Had he been human he would have frowned at it, so for now he settled for squinting. What is this thing? After a few seconds the weird spot moved away and bounced in a small circle along the tile floor. Eyes narrowing, he slowly crept towards it and pounced again, only for it to once more appear atop his paw.

             Another confused blink, and he quickly retreated, circling it warily. He slowly reached out to tap it, watching the spot overlap with his dark fur before quickly withdrawing his paw. Nearby he heard Mic give a soft giggle, which he chose to ignore as he inspected  the spot more thoroughly. Obviously it wasn’t a bug, or even anything physical.

             Is it a light? he thought. It was the most reasonable explanation. But what kind of yellow light is that small and able to move like that? The only light he could think of were—wait.

             Shouta abruptly froze as the spot zoomed away, just staring into space as gears clicked into place in his mind.

             Did I seriously fall for a laser pointer? he thought in disbelief. Another soft giggle from Mic drew his attention to the blond, and he confirmed his suspicion instantly upon seeing him pointing a pen-like device towards the wall. His left hand pressed against his mouth as he watched the two cats from a distance, an amused smile peeking through his fingers.

             I fell for a laser pointer, Shouta mentally reiterated in mild shock.

             In his defense, his new eyes had a more limited range of color so he couldn’t exactly tell the light was red. Had he been able to see its color, he would’ve made the connection right away. Somehow, his newfound red-green colorblindness had slipped his mind with everything else going on. Come to think of it, that hideous shirt Mic wore yesterday might not actually be that hideous. Huh.

           As Shouta stared at him Mic’s smile faded, his hand lowering from his mouth as he frowned. He looked kind of... disappointed? Shouta blinked, briefly confused by the change in expression, until he saw the laser zoom past his paws again. Oh. Mic was still trying to play with him. Yeah, Shouta got pretty dejected too when his own cat lost interest.

             As he watched Mic’s shoulders slump he felt a twinge of guilt, and decided to take pity on the man. He abruptly spun and pounced onto the light, the laser bouncing wildly as Mic startled. As the laser swerved away and Shouta chased after it, he snuck a glance at Mic to find him grinning brilliantly, his eyes sparkling. That looked much better than the sad look he’d been sporting.

             Shouta was only doing this because he was bored. Cats had very limited options for mental stimulation, it was only logical to take advantage of a distraction when he had the chance. The fact it made Mic happy had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.

              Day four of being a cat.

             Shouta was learning more about Mic than he ever wanted to, and not just because he was forced to inhabit the same space as the man. No, Mic had apparently decided that cats made perfect receptacles for venting.

             Shouta felt ready for a villain to burst through the wall and end his misery now as Mic laid on his bed, venting to him in a manner eerily reminiscent a teenage girl. The comparison was more apt than Shouta expected actually, given the man’s obsession with appearances and melodramatic tendencies in his villain persona. He kind of reminded him of an unholy fusion of Ashido and Jirou.

             So far he’d heard everything. Rants about the awful music selection played at the convenience store on the way to his job. The atrocious battery life of his cell phone and the hassle of carrying a charger everywhere. The apartment manager who always drew out and loudly over-enunciated her words after she first noticed his hearing aids, making it even harder to understand her (actually a valid grievance, Shouta admitted).

             And Shouta just sat there with a grumpy look, trying to convey his utter lack of interest through his sour glare. Part of him contemplated just leaving, but he had actually been quite comfortable sitting on this pillow before Mic came in and flopped onto the bed with an exasperated, “You won’t believe the day I’ve had!” Aside from the noise, this pillow was still quite comfortable, much moreso than the couch, which was worn enough he could feel the springs creak under his weight. So he just tried to ignore the venting.

             It was not as easy as he hoped.

             “—And then there’s my shitty job—god I hate that place!” the blond muttered, poking Shouta’s ear. His ear twitched away from the touch, just squinting at him with disdain. You seem to hate a lot of places, he thought sarcastically. “They treat me like shit!” Most “villains” would try destroy a place if they really hated it that much.

             “It’s all just so horrible!” the blond finished with a dramatic groan, while Shouta watched on with absolutely no sympathy. Screw this, the couch is lumpy but at least it’s quiet there. He was about to get up and leap away when the blond perked up, a bright smile lighting up his face. “But y’know what makes everything better?”

             No, what? Shouta thought sarcastically, knowing he’d find out either way.

             “Eraserhead!” Wait what? Shouta tensed at the mention of his name, staring wide-eyed and starting to feel rising panic as Mic began gushing about him. “Seeing him always makes me so much happier!” Okay, he really should have seen this coming, since the villain was pretty overt about his romantic intentions towards Shouta in... literally every encounter they had. “He’s my boyfriend y’know? Sooo cute!” Wait, wait, what—no, back up!! We’re not dating— “He kicks my ass a lot but only ’cuz that’s his job!”

             Don’t say it like! That makes it sound like an abusive relationship!! A distressed hiss nearly escaped Shouta, but it was silenced by the all-consuming panic and embarrassment that had gripped him. Mic had a dreamy-looking smile on his face, his eyes almost glittering as he loudly proclaimed, “I love him a lot!”

             Oh my god. He really IS a teenage girl. Shouta felt like he was watching a disaster movie play out in real time, and in a way he was. The disaster that was Mic’s delusional take of their relationship. Did this idiot even understand how healthy relationships worked!? Why do you even love me so much!?

             Maybe his feline features were more expressive than he thought, or maybe Mic was just in a mood to gush over him, because the blond gave a dreamy sigh and proceeded to elaborate.

             “Man, you should see him in action. He’s so graceful and agile, like a cat.” More literally than you know right now, Shouta thought sullenly. “And he totally doesn’t back down even if the other guy’s, like, ten times his size!” That would be a sixty-foot-tall person, Mic. That would be unrealistic and just makes me sound reckless. “And he manages to take them down with nothing but his skills and his awesome scarf!” I wish I could take down a sixty-foot-tall giant with just that.

             “And plus, he totally punched a reporter in the face this one time!” Mic continued, and that one admittedly caught Shouta’s attention. Usually people highlighted that incident as a bad one, not a good quality. “It’s just, there’s so many heroes out there who only seem to care about the press, y’know?

             “Don’t get me wrong, I love big and flashy stunts as much as the next guy—I mean, as long as I’m not, you know, actually facing All Might myself, haha, oh thank god he’s retired now and that won’t ever happen—but some of them just feel... hollow.” Mic waved his hand with a vague frown. muttering. “Like, they do it more for the cameras than a feeling of doing good, I guess?

             “But Eraserhead,” he breathed with a small smile, rolling onto his side to gaze at the totally nonexistent shrine as he rambled, “He doesn’t care about that stuff. He’s willing to put his life on the line to save everyone! Hell, that poster of him over there” which does not exist “doesn’t show it, but he has this big scar under his eye. Like this, see?”

             He twisted his torso to face Shouta again and traced a crescent-shaped line under his right eye, mirroring the one currently visible on Shouta’s face at that very moment, seriously how dense could a guy be!? “And you know how he got it?” Mic asked, and yes, he did. It was hard to forget having his face slammed into the pavement and ground against it by a Noumu while his students were watching nearby—

             “He got it protecting his students, barely even a full week after meeting them.”

             The sheer reverence in Mic’s voice silenced any snarky internal commentary, Shouta just blinking slowly. Any lingering traces of the dopey smile had faded by this point, replaced by a more serious look he rarely saw on the blond. “Eraserhead almost died then. I heard he was lucky to even still be able to see. I sent him a card of course, and took over his patrol route for him until he got better,” wait, was THAT why there wasn’t a massive spike in crime while he was gone, “but man, it was such a close call...”

             He sighed, letting his head flop back onto the mattress as he stared into space. “It’s just... He went to work expecting a normal day, and instead he ended up facing a giant ambush of, like, two dozen guys or more. And he just went in anyway, knowing he’d probably die. And that—that takes a lot of guts. Guts, and heart.”

             Shouta remained silent, just... staring at him. Slowly he slumped atop the pillow and rolled onto his side, staring into space. He had a lot to think about now.

              Night four of being a cat. Shouta was currently in Mic’s bed. Repeat: Shouta was currently in Mic’s bed.

             Don’t move, he silently commanded himself, staring wide-eyed into the darkness as he remained perfectly still. At some point after listening to Mic confess his undying love he’d fallen asleep, and apparently Mic had taken it as invitation to use him as a teddy bear. The sleeping blond had one arm tossed over Shouta essentially trapping him in place, the hero-turned-feline pressed close to his front. By “close”, he meant he could feel Mic’s breaths tickle the fur on his ears, feel his steady heartbeat against his back.

             Had he been human Shouta would probably be blushing right now. Actually, he might still be doing so underneath the thick fur judging by how warm his face felt. This was the most intimately close he’d gotten to another person in... well, ever. Aizawa Shouta was not a tactile person by any means. ...But even with his limited experience he’d never been this physically close to someone.

             They were sharing a pillow, for crying out loud!

             Part of him wanted to worm his way out and abscond to the couch, pretending this never happened, but... at the same time, he didn’t really want to move. Mic’s body felt so warm. The arm draped over Shouta didn’t feel heavy, but instead oddly comforting. The rhythm of Mic’s heartbeat and the steady rising and falling of his chest gently pushed against his back, providing a silent lullaby that put him strangely at ease.

             This was so illogical. Mic was a villain—well, more of a public nuisance, but still—Shouta shouldn’t feel so safe around him. But something about being pressed so close to the blond, half-covered by the blankets and with his head laying against the surprisingly soft pillow, just filled him with an odd sense of contentment.

             He could feel Mic shift in his sleep, unconsciously pulling Shouta just a little bit closer. “Soft,” he mumbled, the word slurred and quiet, barely recognizable, yet still full of a deep fondness that tugged at Shouta’s heart. He exhaled slowly before closing his eyes, willing the tension to fade from his body as he curled a little closer to Mic.

             Just one night won’t be too bad. I just need to make sure he never finds out I’m the cat.

              Day five of being a cat. Shouta took back anything nice he ever said about Mic.

             “How do you like your new bowtie Puddles?” Mic asked enthusiastically, hugging a very unenthusiastic Shouta with a giant grin.

             “Mow,” he replied dejectedly. This is the worst thing I’ve had to endure in my entire life.

             “I agree!” Mic proclaimed cheerfully.

             “Mow.” No, you don’t, or you wouldn’t be doing this to me.

             Now that he was aware of his current colorblindness, Shouta had no idea what the bow tie actually looked like, but he didn’t think any color scheme could make it look less tacky. It had polka dots. Nemuri might claim Shouta had a horrific fashion sense (not that he cared enough to agree or disagree), but even he acknowledged that a polka dot bowtie was the epitome of stupid looking.

             Sprinkles mewed loudly as she pawed at Mic’s leg, blinking up at them with those large green eyes of hers. Similar to Shouta, she also wore a bowtie, this one a sparkly sequined thing that might be either green or pink. Unlike him, Mic positioned it so the bow was on the back of her neck, which Shouta found to be a perfectly practical and overall lovely choice for a female cat. Clearly she was used to being dressed up, as she made no fuss over it.

             “What’s that, Sprinkles?” Mic asked, bending down and finally releasing Shouta from his hold. Shouta promptly began tugging at the bowtie with his paw, silently cursing his lack of opposable thumbs to aid in removing it. His tiny toes couldn’t get a good enough grip to do anything but pat it, much to his dismay.

             While he sulked over that Mic held out his arms, Sprinkles jumping into his hold without further prompting. As she did her poofy tail coincidentally whacked Shouta in the face, making him jolt and sneeze. He shot her a sour look, while Mic just laughed as he swept her up and hugged her to his chest. “Hey, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he accused playfully. The white feline meowed and bumped her head against his chin, eyes sliding shut as she purred.

             The accusation made Shouta’s eyes narrow, his glare growing harsher. Mic snickered at his expression before turning his attention back to Sprinkles, his grin softening to something more gentle and fond. “I get what you’re doing. You’re just jealous of all the attention I’m giving Puddles, aren’t you?” He adjusted his grip to scratch her chin and Sprinkles seemed to melt in his arms at the attention, a look of pure bliss on her face. “But you don’t need to be jealous. You’re still my adorable sweetheart.”

             As he watched the pair Shouta felt his ire melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment. The love and adoration in Mic’s face as he gazed down upon Sprinkles was nothing but genuine, the relaxed slump to her body an indication of total trust and happiness.

             A guy who cares about cats that much can’t be that bad, he thought to himself quietly.

             Half an hour later, he rescinded that thought when Mic posed with him and Sprinkles, all three wearing matching hats and bowties as he tried to angle his phone for a good selfie. He silently vowed to get his paws on that phone and dump it in the toilet as soon as he had the chance.

              Day six of being a cat.

             Mic had returned from his job a few minutes prior, which was just as well since Shouta had unfortunately confirmed that operating a laser pointer without thumbs was hard. He had a feeling Sprinkles had been more frustrated by the erratic movement and blinking of the dot than usual during his attempts to play with her. At some point she’d clocked onto Shouta as being the source of her frustration, because she had decided to ignore the laser in favor of jumping at him.

             “Wow, you two did a lot of roughhousing today, huh?” Mic asked as he sat on the floor with Sprinkles in his lap, running a brush through her fur. Strands of black had gotten mixed into her otherwise pristine white coat, the usually fluffy and silky texture more ruffled and messy from their small wrestling match. Shouta himself looked no better; he could see white furs spot his paws, almost seeming to glow against his own pitch black coat.

             He had taken refuge atop a cabinet in the far corner to get away from Sprinkles, and now took advantage of his vantage point to just... observe them. Mic clearly brushed Sprinkles often judging by her reaction. She purred contently as he gently dragged the brush along her head, her ears briefly flattening beneath the bristles before popping back into their usual perky position. She leaned into the strokes, arching her back slightly while her cheek rubbed against his chest.

             The sheer love in Mic’s expression was visible to anyone, his smile so much softer than Shouta ever thought the loud and hyper man to be capable of. Plucking a few lingering strands of black fur, he set the brush down and lightly nudged her off his lap. Sprinkles hopped off his lap and strutted away, the blond watching with obvious fondness.

             Those warm green eyes turned to Shouta, making him stiffen. “Okay, your turn,” he said, patting his lap invitingly. When Shouta didn’t move he got up and walked over, stopping next to the cabinet. “Come on, time to get down.”

             “...Mrow,” Shouta responded in a surprisingly meek way. I would, but I’m kinda stuck, he thought sheepishly. Climbing the cabinet had been one thing, but now that he was on top of it... well, the drop to the floor looked much higher than he thought.

             This is so illogical, he thought sulkily. As a human he’d made plenty of larger jumps (with the support of his capture weapon of course), but as a cat the drop seemed a lot bigger. He also lacked the fine-tuned reflexes and familiarity with his body he’d developed from years of training with it, so he felt considerably less confident about his ability to safely jump from such a height without hurting himself in some way.

             Mic seemed to pick up on his unease, a small frown settling on his face. “Hey, Puddles, are you nervous?” he asked. “Here, come on, just hop on down. I’ll catch you, okay?” He held out his arms, and Shouta blinked, slow and catlike. Seriously? He was asking a cat to jump into his arms? The rational part of him scoffed, since he knew a normal cat wouldn’t be able to understand such a thing.

             But... the less rational, cat-loving part of him, understood. How many times had he tried to coax a cat to jump down from a branch, to leap right into his open arms, logic be damned? Seeing that earnest look on the blond’s face, the encouraging little smile silently asking him to trust him... It made something feel content in Shouta’s chest.

             And so, he jumped.

             His jump was clumsy and awkward, his mobility just as hindered by his lack of familiarity with this body as he suspected. One of his hind paws ended up catching on the edge of the cabinet, turning a would-be graceful leap into a fumbling tumble. Mic shot forward and caught him, the drop to his arms nowhere near as long as it would be to the floor.

             Shouta blinked dumbly as he stared up at the blond, cradled almost like an infant. He had a perfect view of the blond’s smile, relief clear in his face. “Oof! Almost slipped there! Don’t worry though, I got ya buddy.” He carried Shouta over to where he’d left the brush and sat on the floor, rolling Shouta onto his stomach with the feline settled in his lap. He picked up the brush and pulled off the fur already caught in the bristles before he began running it through Shouta’s fur, the strokes light and gentle.

             Shouta tensed, memories of painful attempts to brush his own hair flashing through his mind. Tugging his brush through particularly bad knots sometimes felt just as painful as getting slammed into the wall by a villain, and he didn’t look forward to feeling it all over his body. To his surprise the strokes were light and gentle though, each one strangely soothing, and—dare he say it... nice.

           He practically melted in Mic’s lap as the bristles stroked through his thick fur, Mic using his free hand to pluck individual white furs that the brush couldn’t capture. “I bet you’ve never been brushed before, have you?” he mused aloud. “You look like you’ve lived your whole life on the streets, you poor thing. Don’t worry though, those days are over.”

             Shouta gave a throaty hum, his eyelids sliding shut. It was exactly the kind of thing he had told his own cat when he’d first brought her home, some distant part of his mind noted. He didn’t know how much time passed with Mic brushing him, his mind slipping into a content haze.

             It felt like all too soon Mic finished, setting the brush down. He didn’t nudge Shouta off just yet like he did with Sprinkles though, instead pulling Shouta into a small hug. The mellow haze which had consumed his senses lifted slightly at that, a single golden eye peeking open as he felt the blond scratch his ear.

             “Hard to believe it’s been a little under a week since I found you.” Mic had a gentle smile as he stared down at Shouta, his eyes soft and lidded. “It already feels like you’ve been part of the family a lot longer.” His hand fell away from Shouta’s head, joining his other arm to wrap around him in a slightly tighter hug. “It might be silly, but I’m glad you’re here—it gets quite lonely at times. Pathetic, I know.”

             The blond gave a self-deprecating chuckle while Shouta just sat in his arms, staring forward blankly. Right now, he could feel nothing but pure love radiating from Mic, his genuine and powerful fondness for what he believed to be a normal cat quite evident despite only knowing “Puddles” for less than a week. And hearing him call himself pathetic so easily didn’t sit right with Shouta.

             Before he knew it he’d twisted in Mic’s hold and bumped his head against the man’s chest, purring lowly as he rubbed his head against him. He could feel the blond perk up, sitting a little straighter. “Oh! You’re a cuddly kitty!”

             Shouta just kept purring, eyes sliding shut as he felt the blond gently scratch his back.

             This, he thought distantly, was contentment. This was happiness. Just being in the arms of someone who cared about you, and showing you cared about them back, even if just a little.

             Maybe being stuck as a cat wasn’t so bad after all.

              Morning seven found Shouta rousing to consciousness slowly, his eyes feeling crusted shut and refusing to open. His muscles felt notably more sore than they had the past week, making him groan lowly and curl up a little tighter. Ugh, stupid cat body... He forced his eyes to blink open, and for a moment he was confused.

             Doesn’t the room seem a bit... brighter? He frowned, squinting blearily at the shrine (not a shrine, what shrine, those were just random posters of a random guy who happened to resemble him) which seemed a bit more colorful than he remembered. The sand crusting his eyes made it hard to focus, and he reached a hand to rub it away before pausing. Wait a minute, is my hand human?

             Behind him Hizashi slowly stirred to consciousness as the mattress shifted, a distant part of his mind registering it dip heavily to the side. A sleepy little moan slipped past his lips, barely audible to even the keenest ears, his eyes drowsily fluttering open to see something dark and furry in front of his face.

             Puddles? he thought hazily, but as his vision came into focus his still-drowsy mind quickly registered that it was not his feline. No, it was the back of a human head, a man sitting up on the other side of his bed. A flash of peach near the blankets drew his eyes to an arm with a starburst-shaped scar on the elbow, the blanket falling slightly as the man lifted his torso and wait his back was totally bare, holy shit this guy’s totally naked and he’s in my bed. Any lingering drowsiness vanished instantly as he bolted upright.

             “What the fuck!?” Hizashi screamed as he bolted upright, Quirk unconsciously activating in his shock.

           Shouta flinched and sat straight up, his hair whipping around his face in the voice-fueled blast of wind as he gripped the blanket against his chest. Well, the Quirk finally wore off at least. Okay, he doesn’t have his glasses yet. Hopefully he won’t be able to recognize you and you can just run before he gets them—

              “Wait, wha—ERASERHEAD!?”

             So much for that. As Mic’s voice devolved into a high-pitched squeak of horror Shouta rubbed at his eyes with a quiet groan, doing his best to ignore the sudden silence that fell over the room. After a few seconds past he turned his head slightly to look at the blond, finding him staring at him with an ashen look of shock and disbelief, mouth open but for once producing absolutely no noise. Only took waking up next to me in bed to finally get him to shut up.

             “So,” Shouta said awkwardly. “Got any pants I could borrow?”

[lov3nerdstuff]

I Found {Part 5}

*Loki x reader*

Part: 5/8

Words: 3.3k

Summary: Loki finds himself stranded in Underworld, a kingdom hidden deep inside a desolate planet. In order to survive, he puts himself in the service of the tyrant king, who promises to give Loki his freedom back if he fulfills one simple task. Loki is to set out and bring the mad king his newest toy: You.

~A dangerous forbidden love. Abduction. Slavery. Tortured conscience. A mad tyrant... Escape?~

Request: A song fic based on 'I found' by Amber Run, requested by @strawberrysandcream​

All Parts can be found on my Masterlist!

______________________________

For the next one and a half weeks it continued like that, Loki would roam the caverns and tunnels by daytime and come to visit you at nighttime. Yet, he found that while the former was not leading to the desired results (a path to the surface), the latter was leading to some very much undesired ones.

It had taken him a couple of days and quite a bit of pondering, but eventually he had come to the conclusion that Agatha had been right. He did feel something for you, something strong and ever growing and utterly irresistible.

It would make his heart beat too fast whenever you talked to him, make his skin tingle and fill his entire being with such a wholesome warmth that he had thought he might have fallen sick himself.

His mind constantly reverted back to you whenever he tried thinking about something else, and his entire focus was slowly shifting from escaping to saving you. And when he came to visit you at night, as only an illusion of himself, he had found himself wishing more than once that he could just reach out to touch you, to hold your hand or brush away a stray strand of hair.

Honestly, Loki didn't know what had gotten into him for being so very affectionate, almost clingy even. He needed you like the air he was breathing, your presence like the fire keeping him from freezing and your words like the only rays of light in this world of darkness. It scared him a great deal, but obviously he wouldn't stop his nightly visits for anything or anyone, but you. He had asked you quite a few times if you even wanted him to return every night, and you had been very quick to reply that you wanted him back with you as quick as he could manage. Maybe you had fallen ill from the same sickness as him?

And as the days flew by, Loki was painfully aware that he needed to hurry up with his plans, for you had only four days left until you would be presented to the king like an animals on the altar of sacrifice. Loki needed to escape before that, and take you with him. By now, leaving without you wasn't an option anymore and if he was being honest with himself, he knew that it had never been an option in the first place.

So he found himself both following another tunnel that had seemed quite promising in the beginning, but then turned out to lead him into a dead end, while also using every braincell he possessed to draw up a decent enough plan for your escape. By the time he reached the palace, he had quite a good idea of how things would NOT work out, and it left him severely frustrated.

Only as he stepped into his quarters and started a fire to warm up, he finally had an idea that was stupid enough that it just might work. But he needed your help in order to see it through, and quite possibly Agatha's help as well. First things first… he sat down on his bed to let his illusion return to your quarters.

And while you and him had talked about mostly everything up to this point, Loki had always avoided to ask you about your training, which took place during the day while he was trying to find his way through the maze of tunnels. And he hadn't talked to you about his plans for escape, as there were too many prying eyes and ears on him while with you, who would gladly report his wrongs back to the king for as little as a kind word. Now however, he would need to do both.

As soon as he set foot into the open space that was the cavern you and the other girls resided in, he spotted you in your usual space all the way in the darkest corner of the room. You looked rather miserable by now, thoroughly frozen and slowly starving… it made Loki's heart clench painfully and kindled his desire to make it better in every way he could. Unfortunately, his possibilities as a matterless illusion were limited.

"Hey there…" He greeted you with a sad half smile as he sat down right next to your side. If he would've been there for real, his knees would surely have touched your thigh. "You look tired."

"I am tired." You sighed deeply, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back against the cold stone wall behind you. "Cold and hungry and tired… but a great deal happier now that you are here."

Your words caused a jolt of electricity to surge through Loki's being, his real being. "Well I am glad to be of service."

"How was your day?" You mused tiredly, opening your eyes slowly, tiredly, to peak at him through your lashes. His heart skipped a beat.

"A lot of dead ends…" Loki sighed, knowing that he couldn't give you all too many information while the other girls were still around. Once they had learned that Loki really wasn't there to harm anyone, they had grown less afraid and more curious indeed.

"I'm sorry…" You said quietly, giving him a sad smile. "Maybe tomorrow will be better?"

"Yeah, maybe…" Loki replied under his breath, already most certain that tomorrow wouldn't be better at all.

For a moment both of you just remained in silent observation of each other, taking in how tired, cold and worn out you both looked.

"I just wish you were here for real..." You sighed all of a sudden, quietly but with a certain undertone that had Loki's heart almost jump out of his ribcage.

"And why is that?" He asked in the same quiet voice, almost gently now.

"I'm just so freaking cold... And I could really use a hug right now." You replied with a half smile. "And I would give just about everything for a safe night's rest."

"What do you mean?" Loki frowned. "Aren't you safe when locked up here?"

"Well, all I can say is that the other girls aren't as innocent as they look." You whispered to him with a badly faked smile that told him to not ask any more about it. Loki swore the air in the cavern just got a little colder. However, the implication of your words was that you felt safe with him… and that warmed him from the very inside.

"How… how is your training coming along?" He asked then, reminding himself that even though this would be uncomfortable to talk about, it had to be addressed for his plan to work even on the most basic level.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly at the change of topic, and you lifted your head away from the wall to look straight at Loki in reluctance. "What? Why… are you asking about it?"

"I promise you, Y/n, I have only the best intentions in asking about it." He replied lowly, keeping his voice quiet, but giving you a look that spoke volumes. "Believe me, it will not be to your disadvantage if you tell me about it."

For a moment realization flashed through your eyes, followed by something Loki couldn't put a name to, followed by reluctance again. "I… It's hard. I never had to do things like these before, and I honestly wish I didn't have to now."

Loki's heart dropped, and he wished all the more that there would be a way to comfort you other than by his mere words. "I'm sorry… I cannot imagine."

"I believe I'm not all that horrible at it though." You shrugged a little, obviously feeling embarrassed by the topic. "But it's not like I'm eager to learn."

"Good." Loki commented before his mind told him to rephrase that statement. You frowned at him a little, upon which Loki moved closer to you until he could whisper in your ear. "I need you to be as bad at it as you possibly can, without refusing to try. Can you do that for me Y/n?"

"Why?" You whispered back, and even though Loki wasn't there physically, he noticed how goosebumps started to cover your delicate skin at his sudden closeness. It caused a rush of very unwanted emotions to wash over him.

"I cannot tell you right now, there are too many ears on us, but I can ask of you to trust me. Please." He replied quietly, having to resist the temptation to let his nose brush against the soft skin of your neck, for it wasn't entirely possible at the given time. And it was way too affectionate of a gesture to put on display like that anyway. Hearing himself say please, for once, was already odd enough.

"I do trust you, Loki… and I hope you know what you are doing." You turned your head to look at him, and found him only speckles of space in front of you. You didn't move away, and Loki was in awe. "It's only three more days now… And we both know I will not live to have the king lay hand on me."

"You promised me not to evoke your own death." Loki replied gravely, a cold shiver running down his spine.

"I never promised… only nodded." You gave him a small smile. "And it's still three days left."

"Yeah, no pressure…" Loki sighed in sarcasm, rolling his eyes to himself. You only chuckled at the sight.

"Whatever happens from here on, I will surely not surrender without a fight." You mused, giving him the same look that spoke volumes now. Loki's mood brightened… you had a plan as well, in case he failed to put his own one into action before the three days were over. His admiration for you grew into the impossible, and he smiled at you for a second.

"You're always one for a surprise, my dearest Y/n." He replied under his breath, reaching out instinctively to touch your arm, only for his hand to dissolve in a soft green glow, before coming back to existence a second later. His eyes found yours as his smile faltered, and his expression spoke of all the things he couldn't say, didn't understand himself. You looked back at him in the very same manner, and for a moment the world around the two of you faded out of existence.

Loki stayed with you for a good while longer, convincing you to try to get at least some sleep while he was here to keep you safe. He would sit next to you quietly, glaring at everyone who only dared to as much as look into your direction. Luckily none of the girls knew that he couldn't actually intervene if someone was to come at you, and his presence alone was enough to keep everyone away.

Only hours later, when you surfaced back out of the cocoon you had created around yourself with the furs and cape, Loki forced himself to put his plan into action, whispering to you the reminder to be as good at being bad as you possibly could be before he left you alone. Leaving really got more difficult every single time he came to visit you, but he was more than willing to suffer for the sake of being with you. The second that thought had washed through his mind, he had halted in every movement and frowned to himself. What was this sickness that was haunting him?!

Loki spent the day causing mayhem around the palace, building intricate traps for people so that they would make mistakes of which some were more grave than others. Then however, instead of standing in the shadows laughing like he had done in a previous life, he would come to the trapped person's rescue as if he hadn't caused their misery in the first place, saving the day and quite possibly their lives, promising to not tell a soul about the incident. The king wasn't a forgiving man when it came to mistakes, especially coming from the personnel closest to him, and thus by the end of the day, word had spread in the palace (among mostly everyone but the king) of how great a person Loki was, how he was oh so trustworthy and how he had saved so many heads from the wrath of the king. Content with the day's work, but not nearly done, Loki made his way to find Agatha.

Finding the old bat turned out to be a challenge though, for that woman probably knew paths through the palace not even the king himself knew of. But Loki wouldn't be Loki if he had not found her at last, in one of the darkest tunnels he had yet come across.

"Let me guess, I found you right where you wanted to be found." He greeted her as he came to stand in front of the short woman with a small smirk.

"Precisely." She chuckled, before putting the torch she carried (the only light source at all, now that Loki had killed the magic green flame in his hand) into a contraption on the wall and sitting down on a large rock. "I heard you were looking for me."

"Heard from whom?" Loki inquired, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Oh, here and there…" She smiled at him mischievously, and Loki wondered if he liked or hated her for constantly messing with him even in the grimmest of situations. Both, probably. "What is it you want from me? I assume it is about Y/n, as you are still here and she is still alive and sane."

"I thought you can't read my mind." He remarked with an eyebrow risen in suspicion.

"I can't read your mind, but I can very easily read your behavior." She chuckled again. "You found love where it wasn't supposed to be… Right in front of you."

"You aren't making sense." Loki snapped immediately, feeling Agatha's words like a blow to the stomach.

"Oh, I'm making very much sense, but you're not willing to make sense of me. You have fallen for Y/n, quite desperately if I may say so, and now you're risking your own head to get her out of here. That's not really what I meant when I asked you to show some courage, but oh well… I was wrong then."

"Wrong about what?"

"I thought that showing courage, for you, would be to get the key, save the girl and get the hell out of here, get out of this hell, which you were oddly enough refusing to do. But I was wrong, and I see that now. Fighting and running isn't what costs you courage… no, it's allowing yourself to love, to be vulnerable, and to be loved. That is your obstacle, and your way of showing courage."

"Now you are making even less sense." Loki replied easily, even though it began to dawn on him that Agatha was very much right. He had fallen for you, had found love in the least likely and least fortunate place. Right in front of him indeed.

To him, falling in love with you was a small tragedy. A wolf falling for the lamb, a lamb falling for the stars. You were not his to love, so out of reach, but he couldn't care less.

Love was what he had fallen into, not a sickness. The correlation between those two was debatable, but that wasn't the point. He was running out of time, and whether he loved you or not didn't change anything anymore, for it was just a new term for already very much present feelings.

"You and I both know the truth, even if you won't admit it out loud." Agatha spoke up again. "Now, what did you want from me?"

"I need you to report Y/n's poor performance in training back to the king." Loki stated calmly, but with determination. It wasn't a request, but a necessity, a demand.

"Why?"

"Because she is failing most miserably. Ask the other girls. She is nowhere near prepared to be put into the king's service."

"I must admit, I do not see your plan, nor your intention behind this. It might be to Y/n's serious disadvantage if I was to report her failure to the king." Agatha frowned at him, but with an intrigued expression. Loki couldn't help but feel even better about his plan if the old woman couldn't see through it. Yet, at least.

"You're not supposed to report her failure, but her need for further instruction and help. Everything else will fall into place afterwards." He replied easily.

"Are you sure you know what you are doing?" Agatha rose an eyebrow at him. "I don't mean to doubt your intellectual abilities, but I surely doubt your knowledge of the king's ways."

"Just wait and see…" Loki mused with a small smirk. "And you will see for sure. I would prefer you to keep quiet about it though."

"I'm old, not stupid!" Agatha protested immediately, making Loki smirk even more. In other circumstances, he might just have found joy in messing with the old bat on a regular basis.

"Will you do it?" He asked then, remembering the subtle urgency underlying the entire undertaking.

"What will be my benefit from it? My gain?"

"You get to help an innocent soul while still speaking nothing but the truth. I assume that's a rarity in this place." Loki replied, pausing a moment to look at the old woman in question, then in certainty. "Don't pretend like you hadn't already made up your mind the moment you let me find you here."

Agatha laughed quietly, shaking her head to herself as she got up from the rock. "You're so good at reading other people and yet so bad at understanding your own self… it's quite amusing to watch. It's also a tragedy, if not a tragic comedy. Anyway, I think I shall go now at once. I have a report to make." With that she took the torch out of its hold and sauntered down the tunnel while humming a quiet, foreign tune to herself.

What a curious person Agatha was… Loki couldn't help but wonder about her. For as many difficulties as she seemed to have in reading his mind, he found the very same when trying to take a look into her own head. She definitely was an undefined variable in the setup of his plan, but still he had the impression that the outcome of her actions, even if not manipulated by him, would be positive. If not for his sake, she would definitely do it for yours.

Once the light of the torch had faded in the distance and the tunnel had fallen into deep darkness, Loki sparked up the green flame in his hand once more… He couldn't help wondering how it would look when reflecting off your beautiful eyes, or how it would gently tint and illuminate your skin… How it would leave a curious spark in your enchanting mind in return. He stopped his mind right there, reminding himself to focus on the plan. The was no use in daydreaming about you if you would become another shadow on the wall, a ghost of the past to him. And you would, if he kept on dreaming and left out acting.

Loki then returned to his quarters quickly, well aware that you would be waiting for him by now. But he wouldn't come to visit you tonight. No, tonight –if all pieces of his plan would fall into place like they ought to– you would come to visit him indeed.

______________________________

Tags:

@illogicalfangirl @isuirin @grimnirslee @klanceiscannon14 @tomhiddleston-loki @justanothercynicalgenzkid @rolarolakolakola @theblackbellaswan

General Tags:

@its-remy-not-ratatouille @wegingerangelica @thidls12333 @tomstoobeautiful @dreary-skies-stuff @averyhill4445 @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @sadly-falling-through-wonderland @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @mygodisloki @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @halszka-potter @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @inthemarvelvoid @from-hel-i-with-love @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @foodthatsgoodforyoursoul @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief

I'd always love some feedback 😍🥰 if you wanna be tagged, tell me in the comments 💚✨

[stallionsoul]

RELATIONSHIP & PERMANENT PLOTTER CALL. 

In alignment with her debut for the anime, please take this relationship/permanent plotter call! 

(TRAUMA & PTSD MENTION BELOW!) 

For those of you who don’t know too much about Fruits Basket, a quick overview is that there are 13 cursed zodiac members. Rin has the spirit of the horse whenever she hugs or is embraced by men and same idea for cursed male members with women. Of her clan, Rin is initially a very rigid, untrusting, and hurt individual. She has a strong sense of right and wrong but can be naive due to wanting to do things on her own, accepting help even at her own expense. She’s prone to illness and body aches due to trauma she experienced in her early childhood. She also has some degree of PTSD and is triggered when she’s pushing at her mental and physical limits, which unfortunately is a lot. 

Beyond that, she is a kind, overprotective girl who wants nothing more than to break her family curse. Her being in Spirale is stressing her out because she is hyper-vigilant and that any moment, something bad will happen to those she cares about. Once she does get used to Spirale however, I can see this guard going down and her wanting to protect the people here and her new home.

So that’s a bit of her! 

That being said, there are many ideas floating in my head for threads and types of relationships with her! Before I begin, let’s get the technical stuff out of the way. By liking this post I have your permission to:

Message you via IMs and plot things between our muses! I would very much like that you have an idea in mind for what type of relationship you’d like with Rin, but otherwise we can work on that stuff together! We can have a full on “first introduction” thread or plan for “semi/pre-established”, whatever the circumstance I am all ears! 

Tag you during Meme Days or spur-of-the-moment type starters? Again, depending on our muses’ relationship with one another, but still offering it as an option! 

Talk via Twitter DMs or Discord (please msg me for it!)  

Do light plotting between our muses! I don’t like to go down the book, line-by-line, but I do like to have a general idea of what we will do with our muses.

And without further ado, time for Relationship Types! Listed under a Read More for length.

Acquaintanceship: 

The very minimum which is okay. Rin doesn’t like small talk, so even this level of relationship is difficult. She doesn’t go out of her way to know your muse, but over time their relationship can develop into anything else! She does her best to keep her distance, as she doesn’t want to get attached for any reason. That, and she doesn’t want others to get attached to her. If they were working together or taking classes, she would just do the bare minimum.

Friendship:

This would take some time to get to. She has walls upon walls upon w a l l s. She refuses to let people in as much as she wants to. While she’s tough on the outside, on the inside she longs for companionship and to be close to others. So once she gets friends who’ll accept her and treat her with respect and understanding, she will be your friend for life. She’s overprotective and thoughtful so if your muse is ever in trouble or needs support, she is there for them instantly. She’s a bit tsun, so she will act like she doesn’t care at first but she’ll show that she cares in her actions and her presence. One a friend, she will be a friend forever.

Found Family:

This makes the mun misty eyed because her deepest desire is to have a family who cares for her. After her parents disowned and abandoned her at a young age, she’s been searching for that parental/familial love for most of her life. She technically has a parental figure in mind BUT! It never hurts to have more? If not parents, she is the best big sister type for younger muses. She cares for children so much and will protect them with all that she physically can. This also includes spoiling them (even if she denies it), arguing with them as a big sister might, and possibly teasing them if they bring it upon themselves. She could also be a younger sister type for older muses? In her canon, she does have a couple older relatives she does look up to!

Unrequited Love / One Sided:

This has always been something I wanted to explore even with other muses, but I would love for Rin to experience one-sided love or for your muse to experience for her! This is a specific thing, I know, but I can definitely see Rin harbor a crush on someone and not have it returned. She is drawn towards kind, soft-hearted individuals and would absolutely wish to receive their love. That being said, because she refuses to let her emotional walls down, she won’t be easy to sway. That and because of her cripplingly low self-esteem/self-worth, she doesn’t see herself being acceptable of love or acceptance, so she will have feelings all on her own. These feelings will go away as she gets to know your muse, but when she does feel that burning longing, she harbors it deep and will never let it be known by your muse.

Romantic:

I have HC’ed Rin as being bi--so this is an open playing field! Like the above category, this will be SUPER DUPER HARD TO OBTAIN. Rin has nonexistent self esteem in the romance department. She has only ever been with one person but I pulled her canon point from after she broke up with him, so that wound is a bit fresh. While she loves him dearly, where she ‘diverges’ from her canon is that she doesn’t see herself getting back together with him. I feel it would be nice for her to move on and to experience love again, no matter how long that takes. Rin is extremely hard on herself and refuses to ever let herself be loved again, let alone romantically, so while there are budding emotions between her and your muse, she’ll continue to deny them. It will take a lot of coaxing, support, and patience to be with her. Once they are together, however, she is the most loving, supportive, sweetest, affectionate girl. She’ll be prone to tears and deep blushing, so prepare for that haha. There’s definitely got to be chemistry between our muses, but she does prefer kind, gentle, (kinda dumb of ass energy), and emotionally intelligent individuals! 

Enemies: 

There can be VARIOUS ideas with this. Rin is easily confrontational and prone to anger, so it would not be difficult to fall into this category. It comes off as a defense mechanism/survival tactic when she distances herself from your muse and sees them as a threat, it’s definitely easier to manage. They may not see eye to eye on certain things, or perhaps your muse is a garbage human being and enjoys inflicting pain onto others. Either way, if you’re Rin’s enemy and continue to rub her the wrong way, there’s a slim to 0% chance of her ever forgiving your muse. She may not be a fighter, but if she’s provoked she will try to fight back.It won’t end well for her, I can imagine. She’s a bit more bark than bite, but when she bites, she bites hard. She will hold some fear or anxiety being around your muse if they continue to pursue her or aggravate her. 

Manipulator/Manipulatee:

 On the subset of enemies: because Rin, at times, can be gullible if your character is persuasive or a master manipulator, she can fall under their whims in exchange for something she may need or want. In canon, she tried to go against the head of her house, only to be punished for it. I put this here because as much as I love Rin, I am curious to see what kind of stress she would go under if she was to meet other, terrible, abusive muses who would not hesitate to use her for their own gain. THIS BEING SAID: THIS IS ONLY FROM AN EMOTIONAL/MENTAL STANDPOINT. IN NO INSTANCE WILL THIS BE SEXUAL / DUBCON.  

Other?:

 Anything outside these categories? Let me know! Mentor/mentee, Boss/employee (if she ever gets a job!), Coworkers, non-humans (she feels like she is because she can transform into a horse), rivals? Whatever idea you got, I’m open to listen!

[fourangers]

Uchiha Sasuke’s odd mating rituals (ch. 2/4)

1st chapter here

--.--

Sasuke blinked, his mouth opening to a discreet yawn that he covered with his hand. “It's late night. You could have told me about this tomorrow morning.”

Naruto huffed, crossing his arms. “But⏤”

“Tomorrow Naruto.” Sasuke muttered, laying back on his bed as his hand shooed Naruto away. “I'll call the city council to book our appointment.” He heard a suspicious movement and added. “Don't you dare do any prank now.”

Naruto blew a raspberry back but still left him alone.

On the next morning Sasuke told him that, surprisingly, there was an hour available on the same day. Naruto wanted Iruka to participate the event, but the older nin was away in a monthly mission, so both men agreed that it'd be better if they married now.

Naruto glanced around the stuffy room, his feet tapping repeatedly while they waited for their turn. Honestly, this looked more like they were just there to grab some documents instead of marrying. He heard their call as they hurried to the room, being greeted by the officiant’s apathetic gaze. He began reciting the speech in a droning tone, that Naruto had already heard plenty times in movies before, the ceremony progressing without a hitch.

Sasuke signed his name, agreeing that from now on they would share a new surname Uchiha-Uzumaki. Shrugging, Naruto signed his consent, wondering why he was so reluctant about this whole thing.

“Congratulations, you may kiss your husband now.”

Oh, that’s why.

Naruto turned to stare at his best friend-turned-husband with wide eyes, even if Sasuke returned his gaze with apparent nonchalance. Never in his life he'd imagine that he'd do something like that to Sasuke, well, the first accidental kiss didn't count. He hoped he's not a lame kisser, he could count with his hands the amount of kisses he'd done in the past, he should have checked if his breath didn't stink, and oh God, he's not overthinking was he?

Naruto's brain took a halt when Sasuke started to approach towards him. He squinted his eyes, squaring his shoulders until he heard the officiant thanking them. Bewildered, he blinked open, as Sasuke was shaking hands with everybody, now his mind slowly registering at last the softest brush of lips that ended way too soon. Naruto glanced down, the small pang of disappointment coming from his chest.

Wait...what?

“Maybe we should celebrate this milestone after all. I'm thinking ordering some sushi, what do you think?” Sasuke suggested as they were exiting the building.

Naruto perked up at the food mention, his scattered thoughts forgotten. “Cool! I'm down with sushi, I'll buy some sake for us to drink.”

Sasuke nodded. “Good. And tomorrow I'll help you packing your things to move in.”

"Huh? Wait, this is all happening so fast. And which house we're going to live in, by the way?"

"If I remember well, you said that yours is rented right?" When Naruto nodded, Sasuke added. "The house I'm living is mine though, so it’s one less expense in our pockets. Also, it's spacious enough for two men."

"I guess...but do I have to move so soon?" He rubbed the back of his blond head.

"It's better strike while the iron is hot. Now that we're married we can ask for some days off to organize everything."

So before Naruto could realize himself, he was already occupied folding his clothes and placing in big cardboard boxes, with Sasuke cleaning up the room afterwards. Overall he didn't have that many possessions, it was mostly clothes, his plants and some furniture here and there, most of them Sasuke had a hard time convincing Naruto to throw it out since he struggled to relinquish his beloved lumpy orange-colored couch.

Carrying them all was an easier task since they used their respective summoned animals, even if Gamakichi protested that he wasn't some kind of carriage mule. Naruto managed to quiet him down with promises that he'd give him some food in return. He glanced as Sasuke patted his hawk's beak, the gigantic bird taking flight. Why was the bastard's summons so much more cooperative than his?

Another couple of hours were used to put his things in Sasuke's house, though Naruto was positively surprised that they wasted fewer hours than expected. There were a lot of empty spaces for him.

"These closets are yours." Sasuke gestured the furniture on the right. He opened his cabinets and said. "The first three shelves are also yours."

"Thanks! Wow, how did you manage to clean up your clothes so fast in one day?" Naruto wondered though he only received a shrug back.

Their dinner was unexpectedly nicer than usual, with Naruto cooking and Sasuke setting the table, eating with their usual banter. Hey…He could get used to this, Naruto wondered, as the evening was spent watching a movie together. Soon his eyelids were feeling quite heavy as he widened a very tired yawn from his mouth.

"I guess it's almost time to sleep huh. Tomorrow morning you have some classes with Kakashi." Sasuke muttered.

"Hmm...yeah. I guess I'll sleep on the couch right?"

“Why? Let's just share our bed.”

“Errr…it's actually your bed and you're probably used to have it all for yourself right? I shouldn't bother you.”

Sasuke scoffed, turning around and walking to the bedroom. “Nonsense. My bed is big enough for both of us, it won't be an issue.” He gestured, laying on one side to show his point. He raised himself to a seating position, staring at Naruto.

“Well, if you say so.” Naruto mumbled, glancing down and shifted his feet.

In their bathroom, Sasuke practically dragged him to brush his teeth, launching a lecture about hygiene habits and so on. This bantering eased Naruto about the whole sharing bed thing, as they slept elbow jabbing the other.

⏤.⏤  

Naruto groaned, the alarm clock ringing him awake as he struggled to move. His body was still in adjustment, sleeping in a much more softer surface in comparison to his old, hard bed. Yawning, he gingerly opened his eyes to realize that he was nestled on Sasuke's chest.

How did⏤When did⏤What?? Naruto reasoned himself, in an attempt to calm down. Maybe they moved while sleeping and this was an unfortunate position to be woken up, that's all, he shouldn't look too much into it. Yes, that's it. Now he really should stop being so aware of his best friend's close proximity that he could feel the warmth emanating from his body. Naruto breathed in, also picking up a pleasant scent coming from Sasuke, making him wonder if his friend was wearing some cologne or this was just his natural odor. Sasuke smelled really nice.

Oooookay, he was going insane, he should stop this. Now. Naruto grumbled about stupid bastard and his stupid pheromones, affecting his judgement somehow. He shifted backwards to widen the distance, realizing that Sasuke's hands were linked behind his back, limiting his movements. He was beginning to wonder how Sasuke hadn't woken up yet, perusing the handsome face, the usual knitted eyebrows smoothed out relaxed, jaw a little slack with a slow rhythmical breathing.

Naruto stiffened, brain panicking when Sasuke began to stir awake, graphite eyes blinking, realizing his surroundings. He turned to focus on the blond man's nervous glance, Naruto braced himself for any kind of reaction. However, Sasuke closed in dropping a simple kiss on the top of his head. "Morning." He muttered, yawning discreetly as he went to the bathroom.

Naruto remained frozen for a while, his mind asking for a much needed reboot to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. His best friend maybe, probably, definitely kissed his head. Naruto would have never guessed that Sasuke was a cuddler type, much less an affectionate one on mornings. Who the hell is this man and who snatched the usual cold bastard he knew?

Staring Sasuke's back as the latter finished his morning ritual, Naruto mused the need to inquiry. He opened his mouth, until Sasuke turned to face him. "I'm thinking cooking some breakfast, you like toast with some scrambled eggs right?"

Naruto quirked an eyebrow, but answered nevertheless. "Yeah, sure. It'd be nice." He got ready for the day as he heard a sizzling sound coming from the kitchen. How comforting this feels, listening to noises in his home instead of the deafening silence back when he lived alone. Feeling his mood improving exponentially, Naruto grinned, sitting on a nearby table until Sasuke finished it up and placed the food for them.

There was no sign of any drastic change coming from his friend, Naruto observed as Sasuke ate his bread in small bites. Maybe Sasuke was half-awake when he kissed his head, so this was probably a one-time thing. Nothing to be alarmed for.

They went on with their usual routine, jumping and sprinting to the Hokage tower, though Sasuke arrived first much to Naruto's chagrin. As they went inside, Naruto was ready to launch the usual quip about the Uchiha’s victorious smirk till he took a halt. Sasuke noticed the blond nin's slower steps, questioning. “What?”

Naruto quirked an eyebrow, raising their hands to show their fingers linked.

Sasuke shrugged. “Hn. Better do this to show the fangirls our current situation so they can stop pestering around. Which reminds me…” He rummaged his pocket and showed two rings to Naruto. “Here, one is yours.”

Blue eyes stared in mild astonishment, voicing out. “Uh… Do we really have to? Just the fact we're holding hands should discourage them right?”

“Am I really going to waste the opportunity to flaunt the fact that we're married? This way they will give up once and for all. It's just a ring dumbass, nothing big.” Sasuke said, placing his own ring on his finger.

Naruto gazed for a minute before also putting it on too. His new marital status was finally driving home, watching the shocked faces and bellowing screams from the passersby, while they were walking to the Hokage's office.

“Well…I guess I'll see you later.” Naruto said opening the door, while Kakashi and his assistants were waiting him to start the Hokage’s apprenticeship.

Sasuke grunted, nodding. “Have a nice day.” He muttered, then he dropped a kiss on the whiskered cheek while Naruto's guard was down.

“Sasuke, what⏤” Naruto exclaimed though Sasuke intervened.

“I just needed an extra convincing gesture. I think we succeeded here.”

Naruto turned around to see all eyes staring in stunned silence, some even let the mission reports slide to the ground, every jaw dropped in the scene.

He soon shut the door, his face beef red. Everyone recomposed themselves, resuming their conversation even if they gesticulated in stiff movements.

Walking towards the Hokage, the blond man scratched his head. “Um. So…Sasuke and I are married now.”

Kakashi gazed back flabbergasted, dawning in comprehension till he responded.  “Oooh, I see. I guess some congratulations to Sasuke is in order!”

Naruto narrowed his eyes. “And why do you want to congratulate specifically Sasuke when I’m married too?”

“Hm.” His teacher closed his eyes in amusement and the expression was eerily similar to Sakura's somehow. “I guess you’re right. Congratulations Naruto.”

Naruto ignored the teasing barb with a roll of eyes, as they concentrated in their tasks, Kakashi teaching him Konoha laws and so on.

Naruto ended up eating lunch with Sasuke, trying very hard not to blush too much when his…husband kissed him again on the cheek before they returned to work. He really ought to start getting used to call his best friend in this new naming from now on.

Fortunately once they were home, they returned to their usual selves, shifting to a comfortable zone Naruto was familiar with. It was hardly a chore adapting to this lifestyle, as expected, Sasuke fit perfectly well to him despite the differences. He tasked himself to clean up the house, Naruto learned not to leave trash on the ground after some sharp complaints. On the other hand, Naruto was responsible for cooking and washing clothes, both laying exhausted watching TV to pass the day.

As weeks have progressed, it was getting increasingly difficult to assess his companion. Sasuke was acting...uh...strange. As soon as they were outside their house, Sasuke insisted holding his hand to, in his words, reinforce their relationship status and not create any unnecessary gossip. But people were getting used to see them together in that way, drawing lesser gasps whenever Sasuke would kiss him in the ninja quarters.

Naruto could rationalize that what they were doing outside was only for appearances, so he sort of accepted this situation. He couldn’t come up with an excuse, however, whenever he would wake up with Sasuke’s arms enveloped around his body, an automatic kiss on his head ensuing later.

The third time this happened, Naruto confronted him. Sasuke gazed back in apparent composure, muttering. “You move too much while you’re sleeping, it’s the only way I can get you stay still so I can sleep.”

The blond nin raised his eyebrows, conceding this well-crafted explanation. Then, he muttered. “Yeah well, but what about the kiss? Why do you do that?”

Sasuke droned out. “What kiss?”

“You always kiss me on my head once you wake up.” Naruto pressed on, licking his lips.

“Do I?”

Naruto gave him a deadpan look, nodding.

His husband used few minutes in quiet contemplation, then stared back.

"Hm, maybe I did." Sasuke muttered airily, crossing his arms. "Why? Do you hate it?"

Taking off guard from Sasuke’s sincerity, it was Naruto’s turn to fall silent. He scratched the back of his head, shrugging. "No, I don't hate it, it's...well." Weird. Weird in the sense that it's weird he's not disliking this. At all.

“Well then, so what’s all the fuss is about?”

Naruto was at loss with words, feeling his face heating up as he glanced down, fumbling his thumbs. Since he couldn’t come up with a retort back, they went to bed as usual, but this time Naruto even allowed Sasuke to lace his arms around his waist, nose burrowing on the golden hair and letting out a contented sigh before they slept. When did the tables had turned around this way?

Things have changed since, with little details that were very noticeable for an affection starved person like Naruto. He knew that Sasuke wasn’t one with pointless movements, so whatever he did, hid a special meaning within. He was acutely aware whenever the touches would linger, the kisses would stretch few seconds more, hand squeezing a little tighter when they went shopping together.

As his heartbeats would increase whenever his husband would act like that, Naruto really really didn’t want to recognize an unnamed feeling that was wedging all the way in. It’s⏤it’s weird. It’s weird and awkward and highly embarrassing that he would have this kind of emotion towards his best friend, and the fact that he was enjoying these interactions made the whole issue so much worse.

--.--

3rd chapter

[noplanlife]

Gratitude

Summary: Home is where Karamatsu’s exceedingly painful heart is.  

--

This is the eighth chapter of a multichapter fic!  Please find the rest here! 

--

Merpeople who are NEETs, or MerNEETs, as you’ve come to call them, come into existence when a particularly unfortunate pair of parents have no idea how to get rid of their good for nothing sextuplets.  That concept was baffling enough in and of itself. Meanwhile, you’re still trying to wrap your head around the idea of someone having to raise Karamatsu, let alone five other children. Up until now, you’d more or less assumed Karamatsu had just sprung out of the ether one day.  You’d imagined there had been a lot of glitter involved in that magical process, rather than the unfortunate labors of one very beleaguered mother.

Now, however, standing before the door of one modest looking, underwater house, you are forced to confront the knowledge that Karamatsu is indeed, all natural, and the product of one very unique childhood.

“We’re home!” Jyushimatsu shouts as he throws open the front door.  There are a few loud crashing sounds and lots of shouting coming from inside of the house.  You decide that, perhaps, for your own safety, it may be wise to let Karamatsu enter first. Conveniently, he seems rather taken with the idea that you appear to want him to protect you.  Sunglasses in place, he flashes you a dazzling smirk and a reassuring thumb’s up as he says,

“Fear not, my beloved.  There is no force in heaven or hell that will keep me from protecting you.  No beast, no matter how foul, can tear you from my arms! No man, no matter how powerful, can cut the bonds of fate that bind us!  No force, no matter how-”

An unseen force plows into Karamatsu and sends him careening down the nondescript street in front of his house.  

“You glittery bastard!  How dare you give your soul to someone first!  That was supposed to be me!”

You turn, preparing to find out just what had collided with your would-be protector, only to feel the force of a great rush of water at your back.  Angry voices curse a name you’ve come to know well (and maybe, internally, curse every now and again yourself). You stumble forward with a shout as several bodies swim past your side, and by the time you manage to look up, it is to see that a veritable rainbow of tails has dog-piled Karamatsu.  You only know he’s at the bottom of the heap because you recognize the desperate flailing of his blue tail under all of the others.

“Excuse me?” you call out with some uncertainty.  You aren’t sure where you’re supposed to cut in, or whose attention you’re supposed to be trying to get.  That is a lot of merpeople.

What had been a dogpile abruptly devolves into a full on brawl, and you find yourself reminded of what happens among sharks when there’s blood in the water.  With an exasperated groan, you advance on the spat before reaching in and snagging your hand around a random wrist and tugging with all of your might. One merman pops free, and while the face is largely the same as the one you’re familiar with, the color of the tail is not.  This merman has a green tail. He blinks back at you in stunned silence for a brief second before his face colors pink and he starts to stammer something at you.

“Nope,” you declare, and shove him back into the fray.  You attempt this four more times, with similar results, before you manage to finally wrench Karamatsu free from his brothers and behind the safety of your back.  He clings to you with his arms locked around your middle like a vice. Hands on your hips, you repeat yourself more sternly, “Excuse me!”

The remaining mermen quickly form a line where you can see all of them, and then proceed to each descend into a deep bow.

“Sorry,” they all say back at you, in perfect unison.  Apparently, all you needed to do was be a bit more aggressive, and they went from belligerent to acquiescent in a snap.  You wait for them to right themselves before you say,

“Look.  I came all the way here to meet Karamatsu’s family, even though I could be back home right now and not dealing with all of this...craziness.  So why don’t you try being good hosts, and show me around?”

You flash the lot of them the best glare you can muster under such bizarre circumstances.  Luckily, they all seem cowed enough by your efforts that they immediately begin heading for the front door and gesturing for you to follow.  That is, until one of them notices your lower half.

“Legs!  They have legs!” the red-tailed merman shouts, pointing down at your distinct lack of a tail.  All of the siblings, even Karamatsu, reel away from you in shock and horror. Indignant, you wheel around and seize Karamatsu by an ear-fin.  

“You knew I had legs from the beginning!  Don’t act surprised! And you guys!” You turn to face the five others.  “How in the world did it take you this long to notice?! Are you guys stupid or something?!”

“Yes,” the purple-tailed merman says back at you in a dull tone, without a moment’s hesitation.  You find yourself unable to respond to such a blunt answer, so you just stare at the group of them with a unique mix of bafflement and annoyance.  Fortunately, the silence left in your wake lasts not but a moment before the pink-tailed merman muses forlornly,

“I can’t believe it.  All that time he spent near the surface actually amounted to something.  I thought he was just trying to get out of helping with chores.”

The green-tailed merman folds his arms across his chest and nods, as if trying to look particularly lost in thought as he adds,

“And when he mentioned that someone on the surface saved him after getting beached like an idiot, I thought he was just having a hallucination due to a lack of water to the gills…”

All of the brothers, save Karamatsu, nod their heads in perfect unison.  You squint, disbelieving, at the group of them as they all turn away from you and Karamatsu to begin heading back into the house.  With a shout, you lurch forward and grab the red-tailed merman by one of his ear-fins so as to stop him from advancing any further.  He lets out a loud, startled yell as he’s pulled back towards you. Now stuck in your grasp, he gives a visible jolt, as if some realization has just struck him.

“You’re real!  You’re really real!  I was hoping this was all just some horrible dream where Karamatsu got a date first, but it’s real!”

Hearing that, you proceed to drop your captive with a scoff.  Having effectively prevented any of Karamatsu’s brothers from ditching you, you beg,

“Would you all please just show me your house!”

The five brothers return to their fleeting state of respect for your authority, and guide you inside of their home.  

The house is simple and cozy.  So much so that you can’t help but be somewhat surprised.  Perhaps you’re judging the house unfairly. After all, the last place Karamatsu had showed you was his little cave, and that had a disco ball in it.  Just because this house had Karamatsu living in it didn’t mean all of its residents would adhere to his questionable taste in decor. One of the mermen pulls aside a sliding door to what you assume is a living room.  For some reason, there is a chair shaped like a hand in the corner. You amend your previous statement, and assume Karamatsu’s presence is as cloying to live with as it is when you spend your time with him.

“Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine being able to show my other half the house I grew up in!” Karamatsu muses, sighing gustily by your ear as he drapes his arms over your shoulders.  Having accepted that Karamatsu is just an innately affectionate creature, you don’t make any effort to remove him from your person as you correct him,

“Because you didn’t intend on showing me it in the first place?”

Karamatsu scoffs, and a burst of bubbles tickles your ear as he continues on doggedly despite your interjection,

“Please, think not of this solely as a house, but a home!  For a home is where a man’s soul is! Where he can lay his weary fins to rest at the end of a long day fighting the unceasing battle against life’s vagaries!”  

You aren’t sure what vagaries Karamatsu has experienced in his life, considering that he’s apparently a merNEET, but you deem it wiser to let him wax poetic than interrupt him further.  That is, of course, a mistake, which you find out when Karamatsu abruptly wheels you around to face him. Before you can even shoot him your very finely honed deadpan expression, Karamatsu has tucked two fingers under your chin so that you find yourself forced to look into his glittering, dark eyes.

“Now that I’ve found you, my other half, this house will be only that--a house!  No longer can it remain a treasured home for me! For part of my soul is always with you.  When your fins, er, feet, fail to stand upon this threshold, the place where I became the man you know and love holds so much less meaning!”

“Then leave,” the purple-tailed merman, Ichimatsu, intones while waving a hand dismissively in Karamatsu’s direction.  Karamatsu pays his brother no mind. Instead, he releases you so that he can throw a hand over his eyes while also tossing himself bodily into the wall at your side.  You watch, blankly, as he begins slowly letting himself slide down the wall the longer he speaks,

“The agony I’ve come to know whenever you leave my side has torn a wound through my heart that only you can heal!  I am a weary traveler, dying of thirst in the desert of romance! I am the captain of a capsized vessel, floating adrift on the tumultuous tides of ardor!  And you, my shimmering divinity--!!!”

“--Actually agreed to put up with this?  Are you crazy?” The red-tailed merman, Osomatsu, cuts in to ask you.  When you glance his way, it is to see him staring at you with a cocked brow and a lopsided smirk on his lips.  You can read disbelief plainly in his eyes, and when you look to the other brothers, most of their faces indicate a similar sort of sentiment.  Your brows furrowed, you meet their question only after casting a quick glance over your shoulder back at Karamatsu. He’s stopped his prose laden rant for the time being, instead waiting for your answer with a wide, encouraging smile.  He’s either so enamored with the cassanova image he’s crafted for himself, he can’t comprehend you not staying by his side, or he trusts in your affections for him so assuredly that rejection hasn’t even crossed his mind.

The hope that plainly colors his entire expression leaves you feeling warm from head to toe.      

“Yeah.  So?” you finally say, and immediately regret it.  Not because you fear how Karamatsu will inevitably overreact, but because the answer you give is so simple.  Karamatsu is so grandiose in how he verbally expresses his fondness for you, you can’t help but feel such a short answer leaves you seeming significantly less enthusiastic.  Admittedly, you don’t think you’ve fallen as hard or as fast as Karamatsu has for you, but you recognize that you certainly feel something tender for him. You open your mouth, maybe to add something to your answer, but you aren’t given the opportunity.  Osomatsu cuts you off when he leans his cheek against one of his fists and grouses,

“Man, you didn’t even hesitate.  Most people would at least think about dealing with someone like that.”   

Despite his tone, Osomatsu still has that lopsided smirk on his face, and somehow you feel as if you’ve managed to gain some degree of approval.  Jyushimatsu leans forward, across the table he’s sitting at and beams a smile at you as bright as sunshine.

“Good for you!  You two look good together!”  

A series of congratulations float yours and Karamatsu’s way, albeit with varying degrees of enthusiasm.  You can hear Karamatsu sniffling from where he’s still situated behind you. The unexpected warmth of the moment leaves you flustered, up until Osomatsu asks the two of you,

“So, how are you two gonna do it?”

For a second, you aren’t sure what he’s talking about until Choromatsu’s eyes nearly bug out of their sockets and Todomatsu lets out an enraged scream.  You open your mouth, close your mouth, and then open it again. Your interrogator continues on blithely, seemingly oblivious to the fact that two of his siblings are trying to strangle him,

“Like, you have legs, and Karamatsu doesn’t.  Where’s your junk? Who’s gonna have to stick what where?  Down here, human-merperson porn is suuuuuper hard to come by, so you’re gonna have to explain to me how that’s supposed to go down,” Osomatsu smiles at you without any trace of shame.  Suddenly, his eyes go wide, his voice lowers, and he asks you in a grave, low tone, “Do you think you guys won’t even be able to? How painful!  I’d totally want to die!”

You feel one of your eyelids give a twitch, and you flex your fingers in yet unvented anger.  Perhaps fortunately for the image Karamatsu’s brothers had of you, you have no chance to mete out justice.  Instead, Karamatsu launches himself across the room and begins trying to beat his brother over the head with the coffee table.  

“Mind your own business, shitty eldest!  Don’t take a man’s dreams away from him! Love always finds a way!”

Whatever warm, soft feelings had been flowering within you for Karamatsu as of the last hour vanish into dust.  You watch, wordlessly, as Karamatsu begins trying to cram his older brother’s head into an impressively large conch shell.  No one tries to stop him.

[theemmataylor]

Austentacious || Emma and Deadpool

Part six. This is the last complete part I’ll do, and then the next one will be reblogable, if you ever have the desire to do so. -- @violent-nobility (also, fuck you for having the most romantic muse in the history of RPing.)

"Sweet," Wade whispered back, "cause penis breath is squad goals two-kay-sixteen."

-

"I have hunted before, but I -- prefer not to hunt for sport, only when it is necessary. Life is too precious and miraculous a thing to take unnecessarily." Marcus sounded somewhat uncomfortable now that they were speaking of him, but he did his best to remain relaxed and to sound easy and conversational. "I am a fair shot, though, and when it comes to combat, I am competent enough... Musical may be a bit of a stretch, however. The violin and piano are all I am acquainted with; I cannot sing to save anyone's life.

"What of you, Emma?"

Emma. He shouldn't say her name, not like that; her name was hers, and not his to caress. Marcus cleared his throat very quietly.

Her lungs expanded with a very quiet, subtle gasp, that seemed more like a deep inhale through her nose. There was something so personal in the way he quietly said her name. Never in her life... or in her previous life? would she have thought that something so simple as the way those four letters fit together between someone else's lips be so impactful.

Bless this century.

"I... have played the piano a very, very little. Lessons when I was young. But I transitioned to the flute when I was about ten." Crap, was the flute invented by this point? She thought so, but never really cared much about the history of the instrument. "I let music go, for the most part, after my parents died. Now... Now I read, primarily, in my spare time. I go for walks. I keep to myself a lot. I write some, very little." She shrugged, never having been good at speaking of herself.

Suddenly, she placed a hand on his arm and nearly squealed in delight. "Oh, Marcus, look!" Shit. "Sir. Hollin. I... Apologize. I... have never seen wild lavender before. I got over excited. Please forgive me."

"Forgive you for what?" he asked, bemused. "For enjoying life? What is there to forgive in that?" It seemed strange that she had never seen lavender growing wild before, but he didn't want to ask about that. Instead, he said, "I hope you will see many more wondrous, new things before you return home. 

"If time permits -- would you allow me to help you experience some of those things? We're only staying another day or two, but Daphne and Oscar have already demanded that tomorrow, weather permitting, we go riding. If you would still like to learn, perhaps you might permit me to teach you? The countryside here is stunning -- and I must admit to being selfishly inclined to ask as much of your time as you are willing to give."

He... was asking to spend more time with her? Daphne, Emma could almost understand. She was a sweet woman, open and affectionate. And Oscar? Well, Emma had her own theories about him. But this man was distant and dark, but he was open to spending more time with her, to being with her. And... if she hadn't promised Wade that they could leave first thing in the morning, she would have agreed without hesitation.

"I was apologizing, your grace, for using your christian name, when I only met you this evening. It was very forward of me, and I do hope you can forgive me for such an outburst." Her hands folded neatly in front of her and she leaned in to smell the lavender, a soft smile spreading across her lips.

"If it were my decision, your grace, I would not tell you no. I would very much like to spend the day letting you teach me to ride. But, I did give my word to Lord Wilson. If he chooses to stay for another day, I am at your leisure."

"Then I pray that he will choose to stay," he answered, watching as she smelled the lavender, loving how happy it made her. To be so delighted by something seemingly so simple was a beautiful thing to witness, a rare thing, and he almost felt as if he should not have witnessed it at all. It almost felt private, and thus the moment was all the more precious.

"And as long as you permit me to call you Emma," he said, "it would be a pleasure to hear you continue to call me Marcus, when and if it pleases you... I had -- please, forgive me for speaking bluntly. Earlier, I realized how our initial warmth towards each other could have been taken as something -- less than appropriate, by that jealous crowd, and I sought to remedy it. I.. did not think it through, though, and I am sorry for leaving you, especially as it seems our time together may be so limited. The opinion of those who are nearly strangers means nothing unless we give it leave to... and I would rather try to be your friend than try to please those who... do not matter to me as much as they should."

Emma smiled softly. "I try not to carry people's opinions with too much weight. Granted, to be presumed coquettish after just one evening, less than that, actually, was a little disheartening. But it doesn't matter the year or the scene, gossip will flourish where it can." She imagined, actually, that him flying to her rescue may not have helped, but only fueled the gossip fire.

"I imagine Wade is running around here somewhere with Lord Moran. If you would, after we are finished with our stroll through the gardens, if you would be willing to help me find him, I should be indebetted to you, for I would very much like to stay for at least one more day."

Asking Wade to be able to go back on her word was rude, because she knew he would say yes. It wasn't fair of her to take advantage. But she had to hope that Sebastian would be enough of a distraction for him.

After a beat of silence, Emma plucked a lavender blossom and held it to her nose, looking back up at him through long lashes, blushing softly. "I would like very much for you to call me Emma."

"Then you must call me Marcus. Please."

Marcus hardly knew what to make of Emma. She said the strangest things at times, seeming to step out of a shell and become someone almost bold, with a strong heart and a cutting wit, and then she smiled and let herself ease back into softness, yet she didn't seem changeable -- certainly not in any sort of disagreeable way. She didn't seem in any way deceitful or tumultuous, just secretive, as if she held something within herself that offered her limits, but limits she might not need.

"I believe that I saw Lord Moran and Lord Wilson walking towards the hedge maze earlier; it's not far from here, and if I recall, it's quite lovely. After dark, the lanterns can be a bit far between, but if you would like to search for them there, it might prove to be an adventure." He tried to sound as cheerful as anyone else would, although he knew that his natural demeanor was to be more severe, more harsh, than most. Still, it was difficult to feel like a storm cloud when permitted to be so near the radiance of the stars, imbued in a living being.

"Marcus," she replied in a whisper, smiling, allowing herself to taste the personal flavor he'd allowed her to have. She liked this man. She liked that he was quiet and brooding, that he was closed off, cryptic, distant. And what she liked most of all, was that he was opening up to her. She liked that he was allowing her to call him by his first name, something you never really saw in the old novels. She liked that he stepped out to face those who would question her integrity.

He was a gentleman.

 And. He was gorgeous.

With his suggestion, her smile broadened. "Yes. Yes I think that is a wonderful idea. I quite like adventures. Wandering through gardens in general. And, as if those two things weren't enough to persuade me, I find your company to be quite agreeable." Emma stood at his side, her hand slipping into the crook of his arm. "Lead the way, Marcus, if you will."

"It will be a pleasure, my lady," he replied, a small but truly happy smile touching his face as they headed into the hedge maze. Once there, unfortunately, it didn't take long to find the lords Moran and Wilson, as the latter was doing a one-armed handstand on top of the fountain and singing about 'if you seek Amy.' Strange.

"Perhaps we've come at a bad time?"

"Tatas!!" Wade beamed and waved with his free hand, then flipped off of the fountain. "I mean, cousin! Cousin! Hey!" He bounded over and picked Emma up and away from Marcus, hugging her.

As she was pulled away, Emma looked back over her shoulder at Marcus. She didn't know how normal this would seem to him, but as soon as she was free of the embrace, Emma offered a polite nod to Sebastian and then stood closer to Marcus yet again.

"Cousin Wade," she said, batting her eyelashes. "Marcus here has invited me to join him and his sister to go riding tomorrow. But if you still have plans to leave out at dawn in the morning, of course I will keep my word to you and leave with you. But you and Lord Moran seemed so... focused on a mission? Though I 'm not sure what it is. But... I'm rambling."

Without thinking, she again slipped her hand into Marcus' arm, standing beside him, with him. "Whatever you want, cousin, we will do."

Wade might be a butterfly sometimes, he might be an asshole sometimes, but he wasn't an idiot. He shook his head and held his hands up. "No, no, no. We're just playing soldier games out here, we're fine. If you think that I would stand in the way of your happiness for one minute, cousin? You're a dumby. A dumby." He stepped over to her, took her face in his hands, and smooched her forehead. "And no cousin of mine is a dumby," Wade murmured, "so don't believe for a second that I would want you to miss out on any of this."

He stepped back. "Besides, Seb and I don't get to see each other enough anymore. We'll just fool around I think, if you don't mind putting up with my absence. We're pretending to hunt monsters. Fun, right? Also hey, hey, tall, dark, and handsome! I was hoping she'd choose you. You're a hottie with a naughty body."

 "I... thank you, Lord Wilson."

"Oh yeah, hell yeah, Your Grace, anytime."

Sebastian smirked and shook his head, not knowing how someone hadn't had Wade committed yet. Regardless, it was going to be an interesting couple of days, and Sebastian didn't much mind where they were, so long as he got to spend time with Wade again. Once in a blue moon would be more often than they'd been given as of late. 

"You're sure? Wade, I made you a promise. And while you don't want to stand in my way, nor do I for you. Please, if you decide that we need to leave, please do not hesitate to tell me to pack my things." She felt selfish for even asking, looking up at Marcus and offering him a small smile.

"My cousin is enthusiastic, and a little out spoken. But he means the compliment... How you take it is your decision."

"Outspoken? I have been called the Merc with the Mouth from time to time. And boy do I put my mouth to good use! But yeah, no, babe, yeah, stay. If it looks like we've got to run? We'll run."

Marcus almost put his arm around Emma, feeling protective, but he managed to restrain himself. It would be entirely inappropriate, and he had no desire to make her uncomfortable. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and looked at Wade a moment longer. "You speak as if there is some threat to her safety."

"Nah, who would want to hurt such a delicate little lavender blossom?"

"Indeed."

"Marcus, would you like to continue our stroll?" she asked, sensing the tension. She kept the strand of lavender that she'd plucked earlier in her free hand, before reaching across to slip it stealthily into one of his pockets. "I believe I heard something about a fountain within the walls of this maze? Would you care to show me? 

Emma looked at Wade and curtseyed once. "Cousin. Best of luck in your endeavors at monster hunting. I know I will see you soon."

"Oh, yeah, find a better fountain. This fountain sucks. But there's a really good one further in." Wade curtseyed back, then coughed and bowed instead. "Um. Yep. You will. Have fun, cousin! Do everything I would do!"

Only once they were truly out of earshot did Marcus ask, "Is your cousin -- mad?"

Chuckling quietly, Emma squeezed his arm. "Perhaps a little. He's very... over the top. But his heart is in the right place. And I... would trust him with my life, if it ever came to it. He's loyal, if not a little over the top. But... yes, I suppose he is a little mad."

She smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder, and then remembering what century they were in, figured she should really learn to watch her actions. "Tell me more about yourself, Marcus. If you don't mind, of course. I would love to get to know you, but if... talking about yourself makes you uncomfortable, then you can tell me about your sister, or something else that makes you happy."

The light, brief warmth of her head against his shoulder had made his heart race, and Marcus knew he was a lost cause. Her question focused him, however, and he nodded. "There is... little enough to tell, and I am rather -- unpracticed -- at approaching this subject. Perhaps, if you would do me the kindness of asking questions, of any nature, I could better serve your curiosity?" 

She looked up at him. "You want me to be more specific?" 

"Please."

There was a soft sound behind them and Marcus turned to look at it, but it was only a rabbit. Something about it seemed off, he thought, and his ever-cold gaze sharpened for a moment, but the rabbit came no closer. It slunk off into the shadows, and so he focused on Emma once more.

"Okay... Um. Marcus. What is the craziest thing you've ever done? What is something that you just said... 'screw it' and had a few drinks or walked out without your shirt or kissed a girl who you weren't courting. Or... something crazy that even now you know what a bit much, but it still makes you smile."

When another of the strange rabbits showed itself, Marcus took a turn that would lead them back towards the exit. He knew the maze well enough to be sure of it, and while he was perplexed by his own decision, he had learned long ago to trust his instinct. There should be nothing wrong with rabbits, but something about the way those gray things skulked about felt wrong.

He thought about Emma's words. Her phrasing was a bit strange, and he wasn't sure he understood exactly what it was that she meant to be asking, but he thought he had enough of a grasp to at least attempt an answer. Still, it was difficult to find a tale of something mad he'd done that made him smile; there were very few things that brought a smile to Marcus's face. There were several people, of course, but that was it.

"I confess, most of my adventures have been somewhat more grim. Forgive me, please. I don't have the -- sort of stories that I believe you're looking for." He meant the apology, feeling awkward, and reminded himself that there were reasons he should not spend too long with people.

Emma grasped his hand to stop their forward progress, though she trusted him to lead her wherever through the gardens or through the property. But she wanted to speak with him. She wanted...

"Please accept my apology. I just... assumed. Someone of your... I tend to believe that anybody living must have had a more adventurous life than I have had. That isn't to say mine hasn't been enjoyable, or at least had its pleasant memories, I am not my cousin, and not one to go hunting monsters. I do apologize if I made you uncomfortable, it was not my intention." She looked down, chewing at her bottom lip.

Like always, her desire for conversation, for being someone that those she was fond of to open up, she had made a conversation awkward and tense. She'd be surprised if he didn't suggest returning back inside now.

Maybe she should have just left with Wade.

"Oh it's not -- that there have not been adventures, simply that the adventures themselves have not been the sort to leave a positive memory behind, for the most part... and I have no desire to burden a heart as kind as yours with the sorrows of a darker past." When she looked down, he turned to her and reached out, touching her chin lightly to get her to look up.

"You," he said, meeting her eyes, "are not the one in need of any forgiveness, Emma."

Reluctantly, he let his hand drop away from her soft skin.

Though she'd looked at his beautiful face when he'd tucked his finger under her chin, as she felt his hand starting to pull away, she subtly leaned her face into his touch. It was as if a lifetime of having uninterested boys wasn't enough. Now she had a seemingly interested man in an era where him kissing her would be scandalous.

"What do you enjoy, then, Marcus? Riding, I know. But what of chess? Or reading. Do you garden or fish? Surely the thought of something, or someone, has the uncanny knack to make you smile any time it crosses your mind."

"Solitude," he said, after a moment of hesitation. "Which is not meant to be a reflection upon present company, of course. No, looking back on... certain adventures, there are some memories of beauty that I cannot help but remember fondly." He moved, shifting his left shoulder slightly, and his cold eyes took on a somewhat distant look.

"On my last journey, there was a moment when.... despite certain unfortunate circumstances, everything seemed beautiful. I was alone, near a field of lavender... Not wild, it was a farm, in France. The night had been cold, rainy, and everything was sodden... but when the sun rose, it was warmer than I expected, as if bringing not just life, not just hope, but encouragement. There were no other people, there was... the damp earth, the purple flowers, the birds beginning to sing, and bees slowly moving out to take wing. Those are the times that I find the most -- unforgettable."

Emma looked at him, her gaze filled with adoration. A slow smile spread across her lips and her chest filled with a sense of hope and longing to be able to witness such a sight.

"That... sounds absolutely stunning. I envy you such a solitude. There was one day, after a particularly difficult falling out between my brother and I that I... I found the tallest viewpoint in my city and sat and watched the sun rise. The sky was a beautiful light purple and pink and orange. Snow started to fall. Watching people wake, while being completely separate from them. It was wonderful."

Emma's words touched his heart, and when she said the part about being completely separate from them, Marcus thought that he knew exactly what she meant.

"There are certain things that... distance us, aren't there? Those moments when one must accept that the world will go on. The sun will rise on a hundred thousand more days than we can ever imagine, and there will be sunsets more beautiful than any we've ever seen. The glory of life itself will never cease, even if -- we are not there to see it. And there is a strange beauty in those moments, in the... realization of loneliness, whether it comes from true isolation, or merely acceptance of... a fate that others would argue must be fought and denied...

"Your sunrise sounds stunning. The snow coming in through that filtered light... I would have loved to see it with you, at your side."

"You are a very wonderful man, Marcus. I hope you know that." When he spoke of wishing he could have been there, Emma felt butterflies in her stomach, but her smile faltered.

This man had died somehow.

Just like she had.

And she wondered if he knew he was dead the way she did. Or if she only knew because of Wade's presence.

"Having you there to witness that sunrise with me would have made a perfect morning infinitely better. Perhaps one day, though there may not be snow, perhaps we will be given the opportunity to see such sights in each other's company." 

Marcus knew that he had said something he shouldn't, but when Emma took it in stride, when she said that she hoped they could see something so beautiful together, watch a sunrise together, Marcus knew that she had not taken offense. There was more there, though, something that seemed to haunt her for a moment; he had seen it in the way her smile faltered, and he thought he could hear it in the way she spoke of that day as if it carried a great grief as well.

"If you wish it," he said, "then we will have such a morning. We will. And to witness it together, we'll see far more beauty than either did alone -- than either ever could."

She wanted to hold his hand and stay out in the gardens with him. God, she wanted just a little bit of mindless, simple happiness. But more, she wanted to be able to give him that same kind of carefree  bliss.

"Forgive me for being too forward, but I might suggest the scheduled sight seeing sooner rather than later. After you leave in a couples days, who knows when I will be so fortunate enough to see you again."

Marcus started to respond, but fell silent, looking into her eyes, searching them. After a moment, he nodded. He took both of her hands and held them for just a moment too long, then kissed them both before letting go.

"If it pleases you, I accept, Emma."

With that singular, gentle gesture, Emma was lost. He could ask to court or marry her and she would accept. She'd watch a million sunrises with him, followed by a million sunsets.

"The prospect of watching the sun rise with you, even if it is just once, of getting to be entirely alone with you at my side would please me very much."

"Emma..." Marcus's voice had become a whisper, and he himself was lost. "May I ask you something -- unforgivably bold?" 

"You may," she whispered, stomach twisting, butterflies taking flight. "Please feel welcome to always speak freely when you are in my company."

"Do you believe in love? Not as a concept, but love as -- something that strikes without warning, unlooked for? Perhaps a love that begins well before two souls ever meet, and then, in the moment that they do, begins to unfurl its wings? Is that.... If it is an inappropriate question, please, you needn't answer, I just... feel as if there is something wonderfully bewitching about your eyes. Your voice touches my heart, and it feels like -- being alive, in a way I had never expected.."

"I do," she replied, her voice far more steady than she felt. "I believe you find love not when you have given up, or when you've stopped looking, as I've heard people say, but I believe it strikes you when you have decided to accept your lot in life, your path or your destiny, if you believe in such things. I believe it comes to knock you off your rails and take your breath away. I... am a hopeless romantic, maybe a bit over the top considering I had never been in love before. But I believed in it."

She was blushing, but they were far enough from a lantern to hide the expression.

"The way you speak gives me hope I had long since disregarded. This place... I... it's all better than I had ever hoped I could deserve. Thank you for this evening, for the dance, for tolerating my cousin, and for reminding me how beautiful the view which follows the darkest of nights."