#I expect to make a lot of quick tiny flowers in the near future

[hippityhoppitycrowley]

This year, I've decided to try a crochet every day project. I'm crocheting a flower each day and stitching them onto a blanket, and by the end of the year I'll have a flower field. Here are the flowers from week 1: two daisies, three creeping phlox, two poppies.

Links to monthly progress posts beneath the cut:

1 Month

2 Months

3 Months

5 Months

[mythicamagic]

Funeral Flowers: a Sesskag Oneshot

Summary:  Sesshoumaru knows what Kagome's favourite flower is- because it just so happens Forget-Me-Nots have been filling his throat for months. Hanahaki Disease fic. Sesskag oneshot.

AN: for @drosselmeyerwrites​, who is also a lover of the 'suffering Sesshoumaru' trope. She's been a lovely commenter and wholesome person in the fandom ^^

Warning: body horror elements. This is a Hanahaki Disease fic with a twist on the concept.

Words: 10,000

Rated M

@cookieasylum​ drew an amazing fanart for this fic so please check this fic out on Ao3!

Funeral Flowers

It started as a mere flutter. Sesshoumaru could feel it at the back of his throat: the beginnings of something that tickled and irritated his windpipe- not enough to cause anything serious, but just noticeable. This sensation only worsened with time.

Kagome looked at him like he'd grown a second head after hearing him stifle a certain noise clumsily behind his fingers.

"Huh," she mused, peering closely at him. "I don't think I've ever heard you cough before."

After a few weeks, he'd begun coughing. A little blemish that he could easily hide behind his hand. Sesshoumaru had wanted no one to notice such a shameful thing. An unwilling action, but required in order to clear his airways.

"Hn," peeling long fingers away from his down-turned mouth, he looked away. Kagome shifted bare legs in the glittering water, lounging on some rocks by a river while half-heartedly sunbathing in a tank top and shorts. Golden eyes slid back to the slim, pale stretch of her smooth, toned leg as she swayed it.

"Kind of a human action, isn't it? Do demons even get colds?" her concern only seemed to increase. "You're not sick, are you?"

"No," he huffed, adjusting himself beside her. They kept a respectable distance. 'Friends' was what she called them. Sesshoumaru tried and failed to tear his gaze away from the parting of her thighs as she stretched languidly. "I do not get sick," he added, "such a thing is beneath me."

Kagome slid both arms behind her head to act as a cushion, laying down. "A few years ago you'd have said sitting beside a priestess ankle-deep in a river would be 'beneath' you. Things change."

Sesshoumaru tilted his chin up to regard her haughtily and gave a dignified snort, adjusting his rolled-up hakama pants. "It is beneath me."

Kagome rose a brow, fluttering one hand carelessly in a shooing motion, "go on then. Leave if it's so offensive," she sighed, trying and failing to hide her smile.

No.

His body flared alive at the thought, unsettled. Sesshoumaru bit back another prickling cough, settling for clearing his throat. "You should be the one to leave. This one was here first."

"Wha- no! I got to the river before you!"

"I was referring to age. Bratty mikos should listen to their elders."

Kagome burst out laughing, sitting up to lightly bat his shoulder. "That makes you sound ancient! You're such a dork. No one else knows how much of an absolute dork you are, do they? It's a crying shame."

Sesshoumaru did not know what a 'dork' was, but he assumed it to be something unflattering. He should've been annoyed by it, aggravated. Kagome's playful, happy scent made this notion impossible.

Thin lips twitched at the edges, dragging his heels through the cool current. He couldn't honestly put into words why exactly he'd shown up, following her scent. Logically, he knew he should leave her alone.

They fell into an amicable silence again, one that had been born from months of time spent together. Odd snatches of coincidental meetings had flourished into something more, and they'd begun seeking one another out for company whenever he visited the village. Sometimes she even paid him a visit the Western Stronghold. Any demons who complained about it were silenced by how… determined the miko was to make friends. A force of nature. It had amused him to no end watching ancients tripping over themselves to try to avoid her bad books.

He could also deeply understand those who had taken an immense liking to her.

Kagome was warm and teasing, a rare thing not wholly unwelcome. Her stories of the future were interesting, personality vibrant but down to earth and occasionally sassy. He enjoyed her more than he should, a quiet, snarky male by nature basking in her effortless glow.

"What's your favourite flower?"

He blinked, "this is a question belonging to Rin. I do not expect such fanciful notions from you."

Kagome huffed and flicked her hand to splash some water over his knee. "I can talk about flowers if I want to. Shinto asked me what mine were, so I got to thinking. I'd like to know what yours are too- or do pretty dog demons baring flower crests not have an opinion on them?"

He sniffed, bringing down one leg to create a splash that soaked her side. Kagome let out a yelp. "The Shiragiku flower. "

"Oh you can't be serious!" She giggled. "When I asked what your favourite colour was, you said 'white' of all things. White! That's the absence of colour!"

"This one is aware. You kept rabbiting on about it," he wiped some imaginary lint off one shoulder.

"But still! And now you tell me you like flowers that are infamously used for funerals," blue eyes rolled skyward, glittering with mirth. "Why am I not surprised, Mr Killing Perfection?"

Thin lips lifted into a sneer free of malice. "Very well, Shikon miko. What is your favoured flower?"

Kagome hummed. "Forget-Me-Nots."

Letting out a noise between a huff and a chuckle, he shot her an exasperated look. "And you give me grief over mine. Did you not say that blue was your favoured colour?"

"Hey, Forget-me-Nots can be pink, white or blue! I'm not as predictable in my tastes as some people."

That was most definitely true, he thought flatly. She had moved on from her first love, a Hanyou- only to bond with a Daiyoukai, and then…

And then…

Kagome stood, stretching both arms above her head. Sesshoumaru knew what she'd say before she even said it, wincing and bringing a hand absentmindedly to the base of his throat. It throbbed. Now the ache even seemed to seep lower.

What is this pain in my chest? He wondered. What is this strange sensation?

"I should go."

Sesshoumaru slid tired attention up to her and nodded silently. He would not wish her well.

"Shinto will wonder where I am," she needlessly elaborated.

"Indeed."

Kagome glanced at him and dropped her arms. "What's wrong?"

He thought to tell her, not for the first time. But it was silenced by everything else that had come before. Their history. Their species. Her lack of discernible interest, her new flame. A heavy weight pressed down upon his chest. His shoulder ached.

"Nothing. I am fine."

Dark brows pulled together. Sesshoumaru stood and nudged her away with a single palm on her back that lingered too long. "Go. I am… merely hungry."

"Oh!" a look of relief swept over her face. Kagome laughed, "okay, I'll leave you in peace. Happy hunting!"

Sesshoumaru felt his chest ache and constrict while his expression remained a blank mask. He covertly winced after she'd jogged away to a trail within the forest that would take her back to Kaede's village. She stopped to wave, and he quickly wiped his expression clean again, rendering it neutral.

Kagome smiled gently, her face full of friendly affection. Sesshoumaru regally inclined his head, eyes burning.

Do not go.

She left him alone, hurrying away to see her new flame in complete ignorance.

Sesshoumaru coughed and massaged the base of his throat as soon as she was gone, frowning.

Feeling something stuck to the roof of his mouth with his tongue, he curiously parted his lips and reached behind a sharp tooth to pluck the soft, small thing out.

Damp from saliva, a tiny, pretty blue petal caught his attention, clutched between forefinger and thumb. Sesshoumaru stared. A sense of creeping foreboding slipped into the back of his mind at the discovery.

This did not bode well.

---

His affliction made visits to the village difficult. It was easier in the beginning when he could hide a few coughs and tickles of the throat. Steadily, however, the discomfort increased. Sesshoumaru needed to pick out petals from his mouth every day, and the number of them only grew with frequency. He had to remove the irritating little things every hour now.

"Lord Sesshoumaru has been picking at his teeth a lot lately," he heard Rin whisper to Jaken, pausing mid-brush. She had been tasked with caring for the old miko's horse. "Is it a toothache?"

"Shh! Don't comment on such a thing so loudly, girl! If Lord Sesshoumaru wants to do some teeth maintenance, then he may do so!" Jaken squawked, frowning up at her.

Sesshoumaru cut golden eyes to the sky and turned away.

"Ah, I didn't mean to insult you, Lord Sesshoumaru!"

"You're STILL drawing attention to it!" Jaken griped.

Pointed ears twitched, blocking out their animated voices and tuning into a set of quick footsteps. Sesshoumaru inhaled, wincing as his lungs protested- the scent of citrus, summer and home comforts reaching him long before Kagome appeared from around the side of a hut. She beamed. His heart ached.

"Hey," she called, trotting over.

"Hello, Kagome!" the little girl waved enthusiastically, wobbling.

Steadying Rin atop her wooden perch as she continued brushing the tall horse, Kagome flashed him a knowing look. "You look tense. Is it from being near the stables?" she teased.

Rin gasped, "does Lord Sesshoumaru not like horses?"

"It's their smell, you nitwit!"

Kagome frowned at Jaken, before searching Sesshoumaru's face for answers. Obviously his silence and demeanour was starting to worry her. Taking a breath, he tried to ignore the petals stuck in the gaps of his teeth. He could feel more building, pooling in the back of his throat like thick mucus.

"They are skittish and afraid of this one. It is better to keep distance."

Predictably, Kagome gentled- but surprised him by easing closer. She seized his hand, tugging- and he was helpless to do anything but follow. Heat touched his cheeks.

Kagome walked backwards, maintaining eye contact like the femme fatale she wasn't, shifting her soft touch to grasp the back of his hand, lacing lithe fingers through his. She then forced the Daiyoukai's palm to rest against a warm neck. The horse shifted slightly, tail flicking, yet it did not startle. With Kagome's prompting, Sesshoumaru glided the flat of his calloused palm down the length of its powerful neck, the thin layer of brown fur tickling his skin.

"Maji isn't like other horses, he's calm around demons. He has to be if Kaede is gonna ride him to fight Youkai," her voice glided through his ear canals like melted honey. Kagome hummed, "though she said because of her age that he might be mine soon. Weird, huh? It's like she's prepping me to be the village miko more and more."

"It is not 'weird,' it is expected," he uttered, thrilled at the prolonged touch. How foolish. The heat of her palm felt exquisite, hand clasped intimately around his. "You will make an acceptable village miko."

Blue eyes flitted up to him, smiling. She gave his hand a squeeze. "Thanks, but… sometimes I wonder if-"

"Ah, so this is where you escaped to."

Sesshoumaru stiffened. Kagome ripped her fingers away- tearing open a gaping hole inside him. He quickly stifled a cough, but it was larger this time, throat clogged. His shoulders shook, sweat dotting his brow.

Kagome was busy being scooped up by Shinto, a large male. He dressed well, for a human, a jagged scar running over one eye. A momento from his mercenary days, he'd called it, though he was now reformed.

Kagome laughed and swatted his shoulder, demanding to be put down. Jaken piped up, yelling about indecency. All the while, Sesshoumaru fought not to let anything show. To not let the agony out. The jealousy. The consuming desire to act upon instinct and take what he ached for.

He couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand seeing the male's burly, meaty hands drag over her hips to settle at the base of her spine. Like they belonged there. Sesshoumaru coughed again, drawing away.

Kagome caught the action, turning to him. "Sesshoumaru?"

He hated the concern swimming in her gaze. It would be so much easier to despise her.

"I have lingered too long," he said quietly, trying to mask the rawness of his voice. "This one should be going."

Kagome nodded slowly, "do you want some honey to soothe your throat? It sounds a little-"

"No," he quietly snapped, starting to walk away. Confusion immediately curdled in her scent, and he regretted the lapse in control. Now she'd worry.

Foolishness.

"Lord Sesshoumaru!" Jaken hurriedly ran after him, following his Lord from the village. "Bah, those humans get more presumptuous every day. I don't blame you for leaving in such a hurry," he muttered, keeping up his tangent long after they'd met the treeline of Inuyasha's forest.

Sesshoumaru unexpectedly stopped, slamming claws into tree bark and causing it to splinter.

Jaken yelped, jumping and dropping his staff. "Mi-mi Lord?" bulbous eyes widened upon seeing him stoop over slightly, silver hair obscuring ashen features.

Sesshoumaru's shoulders shook, dry heaving sounds reaching Jaken's hearing. The retainer gasped, watching him cough, gasp and choke. Thick trails of dewy saliva pooled onto the ground. Rasping noises shuddered out from clenched teeth. Trembling claws reached inside his mouth, feeling something at the back of his throat. Grasping it, Sesshoumaru fought not to gag, coughing while removing the thing and looking at it with stinging eyes.

A Forget-me-not flower sat innocently between forefinger and thumb.

Both demons stared. Phlegm soaked petals rested at Sesshoumaru's feet. Jaken stood gravely silent for a while.

"Mi Lord…" he said thinly. "You have fallen prey to something very old…"

"You will not breathe a word about it to anyone," Sesshoumaru coughed, eyes stinging. He straightened and wiped his mouth, collecting himself. He threw the flower aside.

"But-"

"No one, Jaken," Sesshoumaru hissed, molten golden eyes burning. "Or I'll kill you."

Jaken yelped and quickly bowed several times, promising wholeheartedly not to interfere.

"I-I understand! However, if it's not too much trouble, perhaps you could hear out a suggestion?"

Sesshoumaru sneered and started walking again, his breathing slightly hoarse and rasping now, no longer quiet. His lips pressed together, trying to silence himself. It proved painful, and he quickly breathed through his mouth again.

Jaken tentatively continued; "your affliction is something ancient. I know little about it, but I do remember that it's possible to have it removed before it claims your life."

Sesshoumaru stopped, hands curling into fists. Claws scraped palms.

"That will not do, either," came his soft response.

"W-why ever not, milord?! This matter is potentially deadly to demons!"

Sesshoumaru stared ahead unseeingly. He knew of the affliction too. Had recognised what it was immediately. If he removed the flowering bud from within his chest, wiped away all evidence from her from his body, then he'd lose the very thing that had made him catch the illness in the first place.

His feelings for Kagome Higurashi.

"My reasons are my own," Sesshoumaru coughed behind his hand. "I will not die. Do not fuss over trivial matters, Jaken."

His retainer gaped, hurrying after him. Fierce worry painted his features. The infamous and deadly Hanahaki Curse could fell even the strongest of Daiyoukai.

---

It interfered with eating.

Sesshoumaru thankfully did not need to eat too often, but hunger inevitably gnawed its way into his gut. Transformed, he raced through the forest on all fours in a smaller version of his true form. Low-hanging branches lashed at his face. Forget-me-not flowers lodged in his throat conglomerated into a thick mass. They were practically a ball stuck at the back of his mouth. Sesshoumaru managed to ignore it just enough to track the scent of a deer- only to lose it and find a green pheasant within range.

Barely a snack, but it would do.

With a gurgling snarl, Sesshoumaru sprang at some bushes. Squawking with distress, the bird took flight- only to be caught in his jaws. Bringing sharp teeth down elicited a satisfying crunch. The taste of iron filled his parched mouth. Tilting his head back, Sesshoumaru had every intention of swallowing it whole. He'd done so before. The bird was small enough compared to his form. However, this quickly became impossible.

Red eyes widened. The flowers acted as a barrier, preventing food from travelling down his throat.

Spitting out the bird, Sesshoumaru tore into it. He tried again and again, breaking the kill into smaller pieces. He even tried drinking from the river to wash down the flowers. Nothing worked. No food could pass into his stomach.

With a low crooning noise that hissed out between his teeth, Sesshoumaru padded away from his uneaten kill with an agitated flick of his tail.

---

It affected his sleep next.

At his Stronghold in the Western lands, Sesshoumaru set aside his paperwork and retired to bed. Curling into a nest of furs, he stretched out long legs, sprawling on one side.

Only to feel a dull ache thrum from his ribs.

Wincing and setting a hand over the spot, Sesshoumaru frowned. He was unfamiliar with the sensation, however, Kagome had once whined and complained about 'pulling a muscle.' Perhaps the tight, clamping sensation echoed that pain. Deciding to roll over onto his opposite side- he abruptly burst into a coughing fit. The angle had upset his breathing, lungs protesting.

This vicious cycle continued long into the night. He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. Even laying still made him feel tense and pained. In the end, Sesshoumaru rose from his futon and began running.

Too tired to think, he transformed, relying on instinct to guide him. He whined softly; the ache spreading. He wheezed a little, breathing constrained despite being physically fit.

The inuyoukai sprinted to the outskirts of Kaede's village. Scenting the air, he caught a welcome fragrance on the breeze.

Mate.

Clearing the hillside with a single bound, Sesshoumaru shrank his form even further to that of a regular dog. Sniffing around the outside of a hut, fluffy ears perked. She was not home.

Where?

Following the invisible trail in the air, he padded around the village, passing by unseen by some villagers. Their lack of vigilance disgusted him. What lax security. Stopping at the Monk and Slayer's hut, he listened, hearing a soft humming from within. The sharp tang of blood, vomit, faeces and afterbirth caught his frayed attention.

The Slayer had been pregnant. From the sounds and smells of things, she had given birth and now slept while Kagome remained awake. He could pick up the faint fussing from a young babe.

Sesshoumaru stayed still, listening to the miko gently hum. Slowly, his body weakened, and the inuyoukai lay down outside the hut, resting a weary head atop large paws.

Something stirred from within, the rustle of covers. "Mn... are you alright? Want me to take over?"

"No, I'm fine," Kagome answered in a hushed tone. "He seems completely zonked out, little cutie-pie."

The Slayer paused, "your head. You said it was aching again earlier."

"Heh, Sango! You've just had another baby! Focus on yourself!" her lovely voice tinged with exasperation. "Really, everything is okay. It just hurts from time to time ever since that night with the boar youkai attack. It's no big deal."

"Prolonged headaches and amnesia does not fall under 'no big deal,' Kagome."

Laughing this off breezily, he could hear the shrug in her tone. "I just blank on a few things from the month prior to the attack. I'm sure it wasn't anything important."

Tired lids slid shut, and Sesshoumaru gained some sense of rest while imagining the woman within cradling a newborn pup instead of a gurgling infant. The two women talked some more, lulling him into a false sense of comfort even as his throat thrummed with continuous pain.

---

Breathing was a struggle.

Every inhale became a wheezing, quivering thing. Like crumpled paper that had been smoothed out and squashed too many times. Mucus constantly filled his mouth, senses clogged. His breathing ranged from laboured to a noisy, rasping thing.

He could no longer afford to visit the village. Sesshoumaru took to monitoring Rin from afar whenever he felt the need to check up on her. Needless to say, he avoided Kagome at all costs. The miko was an infamous busy body who would become a nightmare to deal with if she knew of his suffering.

Yes, that was the only reason.

However, on a random day he briefly let his guard down, the unthinkable happened.

Inuyasha found out.

If Sesshoumaru had comprised a list of all the beings he did NOT want to know about his affliction, Inuyasha would be right up there, along with his meddling mother.

Inuyasha stared, watching him with a complicated, horrified look on his gruff features. Shifting, Sesshoumaru stood from where he'd been knelt by a river.

Forget-me-nots floated downstream.

"... What the hell is wrong with you?" were the first words Inuyasha blurted out.

Sesshoumaru wiped his mouth, sneering. "I need not explain myself to you, whelp."

"Keh, if anything warrants a damn explanation, it's barfing up flowers."

He didn't need to hear anymore, turning with the intent to leave. No doubt the fool would talk nonsense, and he had no patience for such things with his current headache. His temples were pounding, throat parched.

"Why don't you just fucking tell her, you coward?"

That certainly caught his attention. Sesshoumaru halted. "What?" he croaked.

"Ya think I'm that ignorant, huh?" Inuyasha rolled his eyes, shoving both hands inside his sleeves. "I know."

"Know what, exactly," silken tones rasped. "You are but an ignorant pup. You were not raised within youkai circles, and so could not possibly understand."

"And whose fault is that?" shaking his head, Inuyasha huffed. "I dunno what crap you're yappin' on about, anyway. I'm talkin' about your secret relationship with Kagome that you had a couple of months ago."

Stiffening, Sesshoumaru felt his bones lock and throat inflame. He swallowed, wincing slightly. He flashed his teeth, "whatever you think you know, it is incorrect. A baseless assumption."

"Bullshit!"

Continuing to walk with every intention of escaping the pending conversation, he stopped dead the second Inuyasha opened his mouth; "I could smell you on her! But that all changed the second she hit her head. Did she forget you or something? You were happy to just abandon her after she stopped being useful for a good time?"

A deafening snarl upset his aching throat, ripping something inside. Blurring through the air impossibly fast, Sesshoumaru snatched up his sibling's throat and slammed him into a tree, causing the trunk to shudder.

"Silence," a blood-curdling rasp hissed out from clenched teeth like boiling steam. Crimson eyes glowed, claws itching to bury into the nuisance's windpipe.

Even while choking, Inuyasha managed to bark out a laugh, grasping a striped wrist. "You really do like her, huh? Never thought I'd see the day, bastard." White ears pulled back flat against his skull. "What's the deal? Just open your mouth and tell Kagome. Then I don't have to smell your pining ass all over the forest while you stalk her."

Burning embers were snuffed out. Sesshoumaru coughed, lifting a hand to his mouth. His shoulder thrummed, aching. "I cannot do that."

"Why not?"

"She does not remember," releasing him, the Daiyoukai stepped back. "The miko fell quite quickly for the male who rescued her that night. The fault lies with me that she sustained injury. If she is content with another, I cannot force her gaze to me."

It wasn't as though he hadn't tried. However, Kagome seemed happy with their relationship as friends. Guilt, stung pride and other such ugly emotions were all tied up with the incident.

Inuyasha blinked with disbelief, sizing him up. "When the fuck did you get so noble?" Sesshoumaru sneered, glancing away as his brother continued. "And anyway, what does that have to do with you coughing up flowers?"

Since he'd revealed more than intended as it was, Sesshoumaru felt no inclination to divulge extra information. He turned and this time; resolved not to stop walking. "Drop the subject, whelp."

"Maybe I'll tell Kagome about it."

Sesshoumaru did not falter, knowing the fool's game by now. "Do as you please," he dismissed in a wheezing, thin voice, stepping under the cool shade of weeping willow trees and leaving him behind.

---

He did not intend to revisit their old rendezvous point. Sesshoumaru had wanted to put it behind him, to let everything that had happened within the cave fade into obscurity.

The second he stepped foot within the mossy mouth of its opening, however, Kagome's lingering scent fanned over a striped cheek like a breathy exhale.

Long white lashes slid half shut. Hooded golden eyes became hazed. The memory of her salty, sweet taste wrapping around his tongue flooded his senses. Claws twitched, recalling the phantom sensation of full breasts falling into his palms as her back arched exquisitely. Her eyes had darkened into a lush, deep blue.

She'd been memorable, to say the least.

Walking further in, so that he stood fully submerged in their love-nest, Sesshoumaru basked in the illicit scents and breathy whispers he could remember caressing his hearing. It hadn't just been about sex. It never was with her.

Kagome had held his demonic hand without fear and stroked his cheek, murmuring ardently or giggling quietly. She told him things he hadn't thought he'd wanted to know before.

'You're nothing like your father' she'd said easily but with a conviction that made the ageless demon believe her. The notion should've been insulting. His sire had been unbeatable in strength, so of course he should wish to be like him.

Yet Sesshoumaru had never appreciated such compliments. He wished to be unique, bold, powerful, walking an entirely different path. Her words had been strangely welcome.

"And yet here I stand, Father," Sesshoumaru uttered to himself. In love with a mortal. Dying, because of a human woman of all things.

Just like you.

"Sesshoumaru?"

Golden eyes snapped wide open. A wave of elation, dread, guilt and longing washed over him. Every fibre of his being flared to life, muscles stiffening, heart racing. His lungs constricted.

Sesshoumaru swallowed a rasping breath, shifting to face the priestess.

Kagome crept closer, glancing around the cave curiously. "Was just in the forest to collect some things. I thought I sensed you close by. Looks like I was right. What are you doing in here?"

"Nothing," he said softly. His voice sounded fragile these days.

He could tell she was confused, radiating hurt. He hadn't visited in so long. No doubt she'd wondered why. The flowers buried within his windpipe felt heavier in her presence. He cleared his throat.

"Oh," Kagome scuffed a sandal over the dirt-covered floor. "Well... I'm glad I caught you-" she offered a tentative smile. "I've missed talking with you."

Sesshoumaru's insides screamed at him. The marks on his shoulder felt like blistering iron tongues being thrust into his flesh they wailed so loud.

Mate.

"I dunno what's kept you away," Kagome continued talking, making her way out of the cave. He followed, "but you haven't missed much. Rin is progressing nicely with her riding though. I'm not too shabby with that thin sword you gave me either, though Shinto says I need more practice."

That very sent icy needles piercing his skin. Stepping foot outside, Sesshoumaru couldn't stop the abrupt bite in his tone; "why are you here, miko?"

Kagome blinked and glanced at him over one shoulder. She then threaded her fingers behind her back, attention sliding away, voice unreadable.

"Shinto proposed to me."

Sesshoumaru stopped. A profound sense of loss rendered him breathless. He anticipated a coughing fit. Wheezing. Pain. But there was nothing, just him and Kagome standing alone in the silent woods. But she'd be beyond his reach for good soon.

He'd tried. He'd tried hard to forget, as she had. To push all the feelings and words right down from his throat into his chest. Maybe that was how the curse had started.

But he'd have kept the curse for good if it meant lingering in the 'almost' fantasy of them.

Now that illusion would shatter.

The very idea of her belonging to another felt like a wound somewhere inside him that he couldn't locate. The sensation of teeth on his shoulder thrummed, and he coughed, snuffing out the sound behind his hand.

"I didn't really know what to say," Kagome was muttering. "A part of me feels like it's too soon. I wanted to talk to you about it-"

"This one is needed elsewhere," he said in a clipped tone, turning on his heel.

He couldn't be her confidant anymore. Not about this.

"What?"

He began walking, trying to put distance between them. He should've known it wouldn't work as Kagome quickly caught up and planted herself firmly in his way, halting the demon.

"Okay, what is going on with you?" she demanded. "Is it the cough? Are you in so much pain that you can't talk to me?"

Sesshoumaru flashed his teeth in a faint sneer, throat protesting at the extended use of his vocal cords. "is it so unthinkable that for once, I may not have time for you, miko?"

"Yes," Kagome planted both hands on her hips. "Because this isn't an isolated thing. I've hardly seen you all month! And besides that, you're my friend, Sesshoumaru. Friends tell each other things. Remember how you talked about the court and how obnoxious General Kito was to deal with? Things like that. I need to talk to you about this- and clearly, you need to talk to someone about whatever's going on with you. I'm worried about you!"

His heart clenched, and Sesshoumaru bit back a hiss at the stab of pain it caused. Thin breathing rasped and rattled. He raised a hand, urging her aside via a gentle grasp on her shoulder to continue walking.

Kagome's grip was not so gentle as she latched onto his arm.

Frustration abruptly burst in his chest and Sesshoumaru snarled, whirling with the intent of spilling everything to her. Ruin their friendship. Burn everything they'd built and admit his failure to protect her-

-only to cough up a mouthful of blood onto her collarbone.

Kagome yelped in surprise, eyes wide. Touching the wet substance dazedly, horror paled her complexion. She looked up at him with palpable fear.

"S-Sesshoumaru?"

Humiliation stung white-hot and burning into his body. The visceral, blinding sensation of being exposed- of being seen- felt like too much. Too raw. As a demon unused to such things, his first instinct was to remove himself from the situation.

Sesshoumaru blurred away from her outstretched hands, putting the length of the clearing between them.

Kagome called his name again with alarm, asking him to wait, but he would not heed her call.

Taking to the skies, he flew fast and erratically, a wobbly figure. Coughing hard and feeling blood clog up his windpipe like mud, Sesshoumaru had no choice but to land not long after.

Within an overcast clearing upriver from Kagome, he steadied himself against a gnarled tree.

"Hah- hah-" he wheezed, doubling over and squeezing stinging eyes shut.

Something suddenly constricted tight around his lungs, around his very ribcage. Bones protested and ached. He gasped for breath, blood leaking from his open mouth to pool on the floor. Forget-me-nots mingled with it, petals stained red.

Jolting and snapping upright, Sesshoumaru arched his back, throwing back his head. A cry escaped him unlike any other. Loud, agonised and roaring in its ferocity tinged with pain.

Stems shot out from within his ribcage, tearing his chest asunder.

---

Her friends made noises of alarm at the sight of Kagome's bloodied clothes, but the miko ignored Sango and Miroku's questions, bypassing them in favour of finding and grabbing Jaken by the scruff of his robes.

"You're going to tell me in 10 words or less what the hell is going on with your lord," she demanded.

Jaken yelped and squinted, hanging from her hold. "Haven't the faintest idea of what you could be alluding to!" he sniffed.

Kagome snarled and bared her teeth, lifting him closer with a menacing expression and gesturing to the red substance marring her priestess robes. "This is HIS blood. He looked awful. Like- like he was dying, Jaken," her voice broke. "Please. I need to know what's happening. He won't tell me what's wrong and I'm scared."

Yellow eyes rounded wider, swallowing the imp's face. He appeared conflicted.

"Kagome!"

Releasing Jaken, Kagome shifted her attention to Inuyasha, who leapt towards her with alarm pinching his gruff features.

Dread dropped low in her stomach. That was never a good sign.

Distant snapping noises like wood being felled reached her ears. From behind the approaching Hanyou within the forest, large vines could be seen shifting and slithering over a portion of the trees.

"What is it?" Miroku gaped. "I sense a demonic aura, but it's distorted."

Kagome shuddered, feeling strange. She recognised that energy. Identified it as easy as breathing.

"Maybe a forest spirit has been disturbed?" Sango guessed, clutching her son a little more protectively.

"It ain't that," Inuyasha dropped from his jump, landing before them. He panted, white hair windswept. Of all people, his gaze landed upon the miko first. "It's Sesshoumaru."

----

Their way became blocked by a thick mass of vines crisscrossing through the forest. It created a wall, preventing any from entering.

"Lord Sesshoumaru must be further in," Miroku observed, leaning to inspect the leaves. "Beyond this 'barrier' I suppose you could call it."

"I wonder what could have happened," Kagome murmured, brows pulling together. "Sesshoumaru doesn't even have nature powers."

"Why on earth did you bring ME along for this?" a high pitched, nasally voice reached their ears. Sango and Inuyasha readily ignored it, while Kagome frowned down at the imp she held by the scruff of his robes.

"Because you're clearly hiding something, and until you come clean, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

His mouth thinned into a stubborn line, glancing away.

Kagome turned her attention back to the vines. Worry took root in her stomach. The memory of the Daiyoukai spitting up blood remained fresh in her mind, evidence of it staining her clothing and plastering it against her skin.

Handing Miroku their son, Sango went first. She swung Hiraikotsu with a seemingly effortless toss- the bone boomerang spiralling, cleaving trees in half but bouncing straight off the vine wall. It didn't so much as leave a dent.

Not wasting another moment, Inuyasha unsheathed Tetsusaiga. Everyone immediately gave him a wide berth, watching as he shook the sword out into a monstrous blade. He swung it back over one shoulder, feet planted far apart- delivering a swift blow downwards with a loud cry.

A burst of power shot out, heading straight for the vines. They made contact, and for a moment Kagome thought the consuming golden light might break through, only for it to fizzle out. The insurmountable wall remained intact.

Inuyasha tried again and again, using different techniques. None of them worked.

Nocking an arrow in her bow, Kagome took aim. Pale pink reiki split forth, coating the arrow while glowing ever more blinding until she set it free.

She held out hope as it shot through the vines, managing to burst through the dense foliage- which repaired itself almost immediately, covering up the hole.

"Nothing appears to be working," Miroku muttered, turning his friends. "Perhaps we should seek advice elsewhere first before trying to continue."

Her friend's voices faded into background noise as Kagome approached the vines. Frowning slightly, she stretched out her senses, using her aura to touch and brush against the barrier. It felt like him.

If that were the case, the wall was of Sesshoumaru's own making, whether he'd consciously chosen to hide away or not. Perhaps they were going about things the wrong way.

Thinking back to Maji and how carefully they'd run their linked hands down his neck, she raised a palm. Gradually easing closer, Kagome set it down gently onto the vines, stroking downwards.

Hearing outcries of alarm as the greenery parted, only for swirling stems to curl about her shoulders- Kagome quickly grabbed Jaken.

"It's okay, guys. Just find a way to follow me in later," she met their startled gazes. "I feel like I need to reach him quickly."

"Kagome, wait!"

Ignoring their protests, Kagome lept into the fray. She welcomed the green vines that wrapped around her, enclosing the miko and wailing kappa securely behind its wall.

---

Mercifully the winding tendrils of vines that moved as though infused with a will of their own allowed her freedom of movement. Kagome climbed through their moving, twisting stems, occasionally losing her footing and having to grasp hold of some.

"Again, I ask; WHY ARE YOU BRINGING ME ALONG WITH YOU?!" Jaken shrieked, clinging to her back and looking around fretfully.

"You know the answer to that. Tell me what you know about Sesshoumaru's situation and I'll let you go," Kagome hummed, shielding her eyes and looking up at sprawling branches above where sunlight streamed through. Maybe she could punt him over the treetops.

"I have sworn not to break my vow of silence on the matter!"

Grinding her teeth, Kagome stopped and reached over her shoulder, tearing him from her back to frown at him. "If your silence ends up hurting him, is it even worth it? Which means more to you; Sesshoumaru's trust or his life?"

Jaken clamped up, thinking about this for a moment. His eyes abruptly filled with tears, "fine! But you had best save me from his wrath once this is over."

Kagome grinned and patted him on the head, continuing to walk. "I promise."

He huffed, "Lord Sesshoumaru is suffering from a curse."

Blue eyes widened, and Kagome set Jaken over her shoulder like she would Shippo. He did not appreciate the gesture as the kit would while she minded swirling vines aside from their path and ducked through. "What kind of curse?"

"How much do you know about youkai mates, foolish mortal?"

At that, she tilted her head, noticing a blue flowering bud among the vines and gently touching it in passing. "Very little. I know they're like married couples. They, uh... make love and bite each other instead of having a wedding ceremony and stuff. That about sum it up?"

"Insolent girl!" Jaken griped, noticing the bud she touched opening up into a flower behind them. "It is far more than that! Their energies synchronise, aura's linking. However, it's quite imperative they both bite one another."

"Or else the mating is incomplete? What's so bad about that?"

"The partner that was bitten will consider them mated and suffer a one-sided attachment. This isn't so terrible if they have the bite mark healed and lose their troublesome feelings towards their mate," he continued with a self-important air. Kagome didn't mind it if it meant getting answers. "But... if they choose to linger in longing and are prevented from completing the mating, then their energies become distorted! Their youki takes on a life of its own as flowers."

"That's what these vines are," Kagome mused. She shifted, a strange, unsettled feeling churning in her gut. "You're implying someone bit Sesshoumaru? He'd never allow someone to do that if he didn't want it- let alone not reciprocate. Besides, if he could remove it, he'd have surely done so."

"I agree this situation is unprecedented! Unthinkable! Besides that, ANY partner resisting Lord Sesshoumaru's advances is unworthy of being his mate! AH-!"

Kagome jolted, feeling a weight lift from her back. Glancing over her shoulder, she gaped and strained to reach Jaken. Vines had wrapped tight around his mid-section, lifting him away.

"Hang on!" she shimmied her bow off her arm, quickly taking aim. Releasing the arrow, she watched as it hit the mark, sailing through a vine and breaking it in two. Jaken yelped, falling, only to be caught by another vine that continued dragging him back the way they'd come.

"J-just leave me!" he wailed. "Go save Lord Sesshoumaru!"

Kagome blinked, strangely touched. Nodding with conviction, she turned and hurriedly continued to make her way through the dense foliage.

---

Her breath caught the second she caught sight of the flowers.

Forget-me-nots littered the area, becoming more frequent the further in she ventured. Soon she practically waded through a sea of blue petals. They hugged trees, peppering logs, the ground beneath her feet, even climbing above to hang from branches. The vast mass of familiar flowers eventually opened out into a huge clearing packed full of them.

And there, at the centre of it all, Kagome finally saw him.

Vines had burst his chest open, putting quivering lungs on full display. To her horror, she witnessed them expanding and deflating with each struggling, wheezing breath. His ribcage had been repurposed for a vase of flowers. Vibrant blue forget-me-nots poked out between his ribs, green stems tightly wrapped around his bones, constricting.

Sesshoumaru's body lay tilted back, face turned upwards to the sky. Glassy eyes were vacant, blood caking his chin. His armour and hankimono lay shattered and torn on the ground. Around him, the stems that had spilt forth from his gut propped up his lifeless form, clearly part of the mass of greenery that had hindered her approach. Kagome covered her mouth, hand shaking. Tears pricked her eyes. Blue veins visibly spread over his flesh, causing her to wonder if the stems had buried beneath his very skin.

This was not Sesshoumaru. It couldn't be.

Choking on nothing, Kagome hurried closer with a thin noise. Reaching his motionless form, her hands hovered uselessly over his decimated chest. She didn't know where to start. How could she even help him?

"Who did this to you?" her voice wobbled. Stinging eyes misted over, running over his body. He looked like a corpse that had been picked clean by crows. His moving lungs moving were the only indication he was even alive.

"Sesshoumaru- I don't know if you can hear me," Kagome tried, reaching out and touching his cheek. It shocked her skin, icy to the touch. "But please- let go of the person who caused this," she said, locating what she assumed was the mating mark upon his shoulder. "No one is worth dying over. You could start over with your mate. Ask them out- anything!" she shuddered, looking at the flowers poking out from his ribs.

"Just don't die! This isn't like you!" Kagome snapped, tears rolling hotly down her cheeks to slide free from her chin. "Fight this! Keep living. T-there's still so much I want to talk to you about."

The tears landed upon pretty blue petals.

Leaning against him slightly, Kagome sobbed. She wondered if she could just reach out and rip the awful things free from inside his chest.

Why Forget-me-nots, anyway? Why not another flower-

The mating mark halted her hand, fingers brushing the stems. It didn't look like an animal bite, nor did it belong to a demon.

Kagome's eyes slowly widened. She had a distinct tooth at the back of her mouth.

The tooth marks looked like a perfect mould of her teeth.

"Was it...me?" she breathed, glancing up at Sesshoumaru's features dazedly. "Those blank spots in my memory. Was I... with you?"

The puzzle pieces slotted into place perfectly. Kagome stared, feeling like a fool for having not noticed. She'd just thought, assumed- he would never look at her like that.

But if the miko cast her memory back and pictured Sesshoumaru's lovely features, his honeyed gaze resting upon her face, half-lidded, lips quirked, face soft and drinking her in- maybe he had been looking at her 'like that' the whole time.

Kagome shook her head, feeling frantic. She latched onto his shoulders.

"I-I'm so sorry. I'm sorry! I never meant for this to happen. Why didn't you bite me? Why didn't you TELL me, you stupid demon!" she snapped, cheeks reddening as a fresh wave of tears stung her eyes. "All that time we spent together goofing off and talking- and you were suffering in silence? You're so stupid, Sesshoumaru!"

His anguished face did not stir. Kagome mindlessly wiped away the dried blood from his chin with shaky fingers.

"There's no taking this back now," she said quietly, glancing at the bite mark. "So... I guess there's only one thing for it."

It sounded terrible, but Shinto was far from her mind as she lay a hand over her mating mark and began concentrating. When resolving to save someone, Kagome became bullheaded. Sesshoumaru was all she could see as her aura rose out from her body, seeping into his bloodstream via the bite marks.

"You need to wake up," she mumbled, using her free hand to adjust the parting of her white kosode. Sliding it off one shoulder to bare her flesh, Kagome remained heedless of the vines growing and curling around them. They seeped into her ebony hair, twining into the long locks like a lover's hands.

Kagome straddled the Daiyoukai, shuddering a little at being so close to his bare bones. She couldn't have sex with him, obviously, but she suspected it wasn't truly needed to complete the bond. Feeding her energy into his body, she bit her bottom lip. Sweat beaded on her brow.

She began to mumble and pray under her breath.

When her spiritual energy had spread through most his system, Kagome grit her teeth and hoped he'd forgive her. Laying one hand atop his rib-cage directly over his heart, she raised her voice.

"Wake up!"

A pulse of reiki shot out through her palm.

Sesshoumaru jerked beneath her. A ghastly, chocking noise escaped him. His head lolled to the side as he looked at her unseeingly, a trickle of blood welling from the corner of his pale mouth. Kagome quickly wrapped an arm around him, guiding his head to her shoulder.

"Bite down, Sesshoumaru," Kagome whispered fiercely into his ear.

Sharp canines brushed her skin, causing a shiver. Wet flecks of blood accompanied it as he coughed. Whimpering with desperation, the miko curled trembling fingers into silver hair. She pressed a kiss against his cheek.

"Please- I want this." She'd do anything to save him. Besides that, a small, buried part of her felt strangely at peace with the action and its meaning. "Bite down!"

A blood-curdling snarl vibrated out from his open chest. Fangs sank deep into her shoulder. At once, dark, dominating youki burst through her system like a shot of adrenaline. Kagome gasped, back arching. It turned her heart into a burning star. Sesshoumaru's presence filled her until she practically burst at the seams. She distantly understood why youkai had sex before biting each other, reeling from it. The orgasm probably softened the intensity. Completion was something the mind could fathom, a release, the pooling of cum inside her.

This felt overwhelming. He was everywhere. His energy burned and licked, igniting and soothing her body like burning whisky.

Kagome felt the pinpricks of fresh tears in her eyes, overcome with a hurricane of emotions she couldn't quite name. She could feel his weakness. His exhaustion. The part of him tethered to her became a lifeline between them, feeding him the energy he'd lost.

Sesshoumaru's mouth peeled back from her flesh. He panted, sinking back. Kagome caught him about the shoulders, cradling him close.

A wave of tiredness sent her sinking down against him, lashes falling shut as dizziness spun her vision.

The last thing she saw before surrendering to the lure of unconsciousness was a canopy of Forget-me-nots surrounding their weary bodies.

----

Drowsy lids slowly cracked open- wincing at the setting sun's harsh orange light peeking out from between the trees. Golden eyes averted and Sesshoumaru stirred with a dusty rumble.

Something heavy lay over his bare chest. He lifted his head.

Kagome rested against his shoulder, dark hair spilling everywhere. Sesshoumaru stared, feeling he must be dreaming. They were laying within a clearing together, which looked clear, quiet and picturesque.

Squinting, he sat up, adjusting the woman against him. Kagome sank against his side, revealing a gaping hole in his flesh, exposing his rib-cage.

Ah, that's right.

The flowers. The vines spilling forth from his chest as blood asphyxiated him, making breathing impossible.

And Kagome...

The miko had come for him. Saved him.

Sesshoumaru ghosted stiff fingers over his mouth, dragging clawed nails down to the fresh bite mark branding his shoulder. He then shifted Kagome, running an aristocratic nose to similar marks adorning her shoulder- a tongue sliding out to drag over bloodied flesh. She tasted wonderful.

Kagome groaned and wrapped her arms around him tighter, burying her face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

Closing his eyes, Sesshoumaru held her close and revelled in the sensation. However, he soon picked up on the far off shimmer of his barrier enclosing them within their mini safe space. He could sense Inuyasha waiting outside, along with Jaken.

Deciding to lower it, Sesshoumaru rested his lips against the crown of Kagome's head before drawing himself up to stand unsteadily, lifting her into his arms.

When Inuyasha burst into the clearing, leaves scattering and clinging to his thick white hair, he brandished Tetsusaiga, only to lower it with a raised brow.

Sesshoumaru stood clad in his hakama pants, arching a regal brow in return. He approached the hanyou and passed Kagome over wordlessly, ignoring his noise of surprise at the sight of his ribcage.

"It is healing," the demon dismissed.

"Uh, alright," Inuyasha grunted, supporting Kagome. "Should I even ask what the hell happened?"

Sesshoumaru ignored him in favour of looking at the miko. His shoulder ached, and when he drew back his heel with the intention to leave- a fresh wave of discomfort elicited a wince.

Kagome stirred, blue eyes blinking open. She then drew a hand out towards him, "where are you going?"

"This one is..." he trailed off. "I must..."

"No, you don't," she murmured. Patting Inuyasha's shoulder to prompt him to set her down, Kagome flashed her friend a smile. "Thanks for coming for me, but I need to stay with this impossible guy to make sure he heals alright."

Inuyasha eyed the bite mark on her shoulder, nostrils flaring. "You sure?"

Kagome nodded firmly.

"What do ya want me to tell Shinto if he asks where ya are?"

Guilt passed over her face, and blue eyes flicked away, before finding him again. "Just say I'm visiting another village. I need to tell him the truth myself."

Relenting, Inuyasha stepped away, shooting Sesshoumaru a warning look before reluctantly leaving them be again, feeling like the wind had been thoroughly knocked out of his sails.

The Daiyoukai watched her, stunned.

"It's crazy you're even up and walking around in your condition," Kagome rubbed at her forehead, reaching out and seizing frozen fingers. "Come on, let's find a cave to take shelter in for the night."

----

The demon lord stopped and slid unrelenting attention down to her once they reached the mouth of a cave. "What made you choose this place?"

"I dunno, it wasn't far away and it felt familiar," Kagome hummed, meeting his gaze. "Have we... used it before? In the past?"

Golden eyes cracked wider. "You remember?" he asked in a quiet, brittle tone.

She shook her head, "not at all. I just figured it out. Would've been nice if you'd told me," releasing his hand, she wandered inside, finding a bed of furs awaiting them further in, cracks of sunlight streaming in through holes in the rock ceiling. Her cheeks reddened a little, imagination running wild.

"You really scared me back there," she murmured, back turned to him. "I thought you were going to die."

"That is why you completed the mating," Sesshoumaru uttered. To save him, and for no other reason.

A part of him had hoped she'd remembered, but another had immediately recognised the sacrifice she'd made. Kagome was a selfless individual in the face of danger. If Inuyasha were dying, or any of her other friends, he wondered if she'd mate them if it meant saving their lives.

With a benevolence he did not truly feel, Sesshoumaru forced himself to prioritise her comfort. "If this is not something you wish for- there are ways of severing the bond."

"Stop," she grit out, whirling to face him. Flinty blue eyes took his breath away. "Stop lying all the time. I remember valuing your company and opinion because you were always so blunt with me. You never held back your opinions."

"I am not lying, there is a way to sever it."

"But that's not what you want! Damn it- you nearly died because you couldn't open your mouth! Just be honest for once and tell me how you're feeling, Sesshoumaru. What do YOU want?"

Energy lashed at the air, kicking up a breeze that caused dark hair to fly back. Hands closed over the back of her neck, cradling her skull. Lips were shoved against hers, smothering startled breath.

"You," Sesshoumaru breathed in a brief parting, kissing her fiercely again. His mouth slanted ardently over hers, the hint of a fang brushing her lips. "Is it not obvious I cannot abide anything but having you? Foolish woman, it is for your sake I held back. Once you submit, there is no escaping me."

Kagome gaped, unable to keep up with the sheer amount of heated kisses. Her hands settled over his arms, heat igniting her cheeks. She'd never received a kiss like it before and tentatively returned it. A small gasp and accompanying noise from him only confirmed to her how much he wanted it. She could feel the tension in his frame. He was holding back even now.

When he pulled away, she panted, thumb dragging over magenta cheek stripes. "Didn't that feel so much better than burying everything?" she teased weakly. "Even if I'd rejected you, surely that would've been better than regret- than nearly dying."

Sesshoumaru's gaze slid away. He then released a long sigh, clawed hands curling in her hair. "You seemed happy with the mercenary."

"Ex-mercenary," she corrected out of habit, leaning into his touch. "And I was. I like him. But..." Kagome looked at him. Really looked, and somehow it clicked that his face was the only one she wanted to wake up to in the mornings to follow. When had things gotten to that point? Had she wanted this while lazing on the riverbank with him so long ago? Things would've been so much more simple if she'd identified it sooner. If he'd said something.

How foolish they both were.

Stepping closer, she blushed and tilting her head back in order to ghost her lips over a firm jaw. "I like you more."

Power sparked her insides at the ensuing shudder he gave. "Mating entails more than 'liking' one another, miko. Can you deal with my extended company? Being mine?"

Kagome pretended to consider this. "For how long?"

His lips quirked. "Centuries. Possibly thousands of years."

"That's a long time," her eyes danced. "I guess I'm okay with that if you work on your communication skills."

He inclined his head gravely, dipping his nose into her hair and inhaling a lungful. It felt so good to have clear airways again.

"Sesshoumaru, there is something I want to ask you about; Why didn't you bite me? And what happened during that night I lost my memories?"

"I intended to, miko," he said with dark promise. Displeasure curled his lip. "You managed to bite me during climax. I do not think you understood the ramifications of it at the time. I would have reciprocated nonetheless. Unfortunately, my senses- brilliant as they are- sensed a disturbance in the forest. A herd of boar youkai were bolting towards your precious village."

He could scowl all he wanted about it, but Kagome knew of his attachment to Rin. No doubt they'd both wasted no further time in lovemaking and quickly made for the village.

"We fought them, tried to redirect them. You asked me to save a boy that had fallen during the village's impromptu evacuation. Naturally, I did so- but it meant leaving you alone."

Kagome winced. Her hand found the back of her head, remembering waking to a sizable bump and stitches. "They got me, huh?"

"One struck you down," Sesshoumaru uttered with a weary tone. "I did not know where you were, as we had become separated in the chaos. When I eventually found you... the mercenary was nursing your wounds."

"I remember," she said gently. A stab of sympathy clenched her heart. Stroking a hand down his bicep, she sighed. "That must've been awful, to lose me so soon after almost completing the mating. I didn't realise, didn't recall our relationship. I greeted you so casually and didn't get why you were lingering around in his hut."

"The fault is not yours," Sesshoumaru rested large hands possessively on her hips.

Kagome glanced at him, squinting. "Neither is it yours," she pressed her fingers to his lips when he opened his mouth. "Nope! Not yours. I wouldn't have wanted you to prioritise guarding me that night. If you had, that boy you saved might've lost his life. Besides, I can usually take care of myself. They caught me on a bad day."

The two fell into silence. Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, resting thin lips against the crown of her head while Kagome leaned carefully against him.

"I find it weird that we've had a whole conversation while you have a massive hole in your chest. At least I can't see your whole ribcage like before. Seems like the skin and muscle are repairing," she mumbled.

"It will heal quickly," he dismissed, palms gliding over her back.

Kagome made a soft noise, basking in his warmth. "It's also weird that this feels so natural to me," she lifted her head, catching his eye. "I might not remember us. Ever. So just... promise me you won't search for my past self in me. I've been through that before."

He swept her down into the furs, covering her form with his own. "Hn, we will live in the present."

Heat flushed her cheeks as she sank into the soft, comforting furs. Her heart fluttered, stomach jumping. "Thank you."

A silver curtain of hair blocked out their surroundings as Kagome pulled him closer, both mindful of his injury. She smiled, searching his gaze and slowly delivering a sweet kiss to his lips.

Sesshoumaru let out a long sigh of relief, their foreheads meeting.

"Hey, on the bright side..." Kagome gave him a cheeky grin. "I get to experience my 'first time' with you again."

Astonishment painted his features. A simmering, darkly satisfied look soon replaced it, transforming his face into something more raw and honest. Kagome accepted his anticipation, his hunger, not dissuading him from it. She endeavoured to encourage even more displays of emotion from him.

"You don't need to hold back," she murmured, accepting his searing kiss. "Tell me everything you've wanted to say to me since losing my memory. I don't mind."

Their energies twined once more, and the miko hooked her leg over his hip to anchor him against her without any seductive intentions. She merely wanted him close, and Sesshoumaru did not argue, burying closer to her the second he healed. Skin met skin, noses brushing.

In the hush that followed, Sesshoumaru took his lips to her ear and began talking.

End

[chatonne-rousse]

Three Kids and a Hamster

This was my contribution to the @adrienettezine.  I joined the zine as a beta and ended up as a pinch hitter - this sweet little fluffy story was the result.  I hope you enjoy it!  I just love these two so much.

Read it on Ao3 here.

                                           **********************

The same full moon that lit their way over rooftops and across the Seine an hour before shines through the hatch above the bed, illuminating their entwined legs in its gentle glow and casting shadows on the room below. Even if she weren't tucked beneath his arm with her cheek against his chest, this would be a place of perfect peace, awash in a sense of rightness and comfort and home. It makes his chest constrict all of a sudden, his next inhale a sharp shudder that rouses her immediately from near-sleep.

"You okay, Chaton?" she murmurs, eyes wide and worried.

He reassures her with a soft, genuine smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...thinking."

Bending forward to press a kiss to her forehead, he pulls her back down to his chest and starts up a purr for her. The breathy giggle he gets in return is always worth the twinge of embarrassment and the weird tickle in his throat.

"About what?"

The purr dies down, replaced with a contented hum. "How much I love you, of course, Princess. What else?"

As expected, she swats him playfully and laughs, but a moment later he feels her hand stretch across his torso as she cuddles closer into his side.

"I mean it," she whispers into his shirt. "Your breathing got all weird. What's wrong?"

"Bugaboo, you know you take my breath away!"

"Adrien."

Her voice is all no-nonsense Ladybug, but it just makes him grin wider.

"I'm actually not kitten, Marinette."

She groans and lifts her head again but when she meets his gaze after an exaggerated eye roll, her features soften in response to his. She begins to duck her head shyly before changing course and pressing her lips to his instead, soft and sweet and warm. His eyes slip shut and he melts beneath her, his ever-romantic heart singing her name over and over in a three-beat cadence.

"I love you, too," she whispers against his lips, finally breaking away after a long, slow kiss that leaves them both breathless.

After a quick kiss at the corner of his mouth and another on his jaw, she settles back into the crook of his neck, her breath warm and tickly and perfect against his skin.

Logically, he knows he needs to transform and head home, but the stark difference between his bedroom prison and Marinette's warmth is enough to keep him here just a little longer, stretching time and tempting fate.

Wouldn't it be wonderful, he thinks, as the sleepy calm drifts over them once more, to stay here forever, just like this?

He imagines waking up this way, morning breath and snoring kwamis and a warm tangle of limbs illuminated by a new day's dawnlight instead of the quiet moon. Perhaps there would be a purring cat asleep on the bed with them. And one day, maybe, he'd wake to find a toddler who had crawled up onto the bed and wriggled between them in the night to be close to maman and papa. A family. His heart squeezes with emotion again, but he keeps his breathing steady and Marinette doesn't seem to notice this time.

Dreaming of what the future might hold seems like an extravagant luxury in a world where a supervillain regularly terrorizes Paris and threatens to rend the very fabric of the universe and its delicate balance. Then again, isn't that all the more reason to dream?

Even with the freedom being Chat Noir grants him, the responsibility of avoiding that fate is a heavy weight across his shoulders, and a far more cumbersome yoke on his Lady's. Imagining a day when they can transform for fun instead of necessity, cook dinner together, fall asleep just like this, and not have to wonder if an akuma alert will rouse them before the sun—well, that just makes him fight each battle harder and despise Hawkmoth that much more. After all, the fate of humanity includes the fate of Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, too.

Her fingers glide feather-light at his wrist, so he knows she's still awake, and before he can think twice about it, he's murmuring a question into the dark.

"Hey, Bug?" He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Do you ever think about...the future?"

Her hand stops its gentle, soothing motion against his arm, and he misses the feeling immediately.

"After we defeat Hawkmoth, or...?" she trails off.

"That could happen tomorrow, so let's start with tomorrow and go from there."

She resumes her caress, though this time her hand trails higher, up and under his t-shirt sleeve to the warm skin of his bicep. He smiles against her hair and hugs his heat-seeking little bug tighter.

"Well, tomorrow we have a calculus test, then you have a piano lesson after school. I really didn't plan anything beyond that, but if we're going to squeeze in an epic final battle with Hawkmoth, I suppose I should work on my history project at lunch to get ahead."

"Cheeky bug!" He tickles her in retaliation, and she giggles into his chest. "I was being serious!"

"I know, Minou." She laughs for another moment but says nothing more.

He waits through one deep breath, then two, before he whispers her name, questioning, against her hair.

She cranes her neck to look up at him, her gaze shy but warm. "It's just...can I be weird?"

Ah, that explains her reticence. The delighted half-smile that crosses his face is pure Chat Noir, but he can't help it. He loves this.

"Of course, My Lady. Always."

Five months and four days ago (yes, he's counting—it was the greatest day of his life, so far), after more than three years of superhero partnership and civilian friendship, an unplanned reveal, and the awkward nine day aftermath (yes, he counted—it was awful), they'd finally made it official. Adrien and Marinette had, at least. Ladynoir was still under wraps for now to avoid suspicion, but he looked forward to the day when a real kiss they could both remember would grace the front page of the Ladyblog.

At the beginning, between blissful kisses and timid touches, they'd taken the time to really get to know each other—with no secrets between them, a whole, beautiful picture emerged. It was amazing and thrilling and freeing. It was also a bit embarrassing.

She'd seen him in his Ladybug pajamas one evening when she'd stopped by his bedroom for an unplanned visit. Another afternoon, he'd opened a drawer in her room looking for a pen and discovered approximately two dozen photos of himself looking back at him. Plagg had unceremoniously dropped Adrien's Ladybug and Chat Noir action figures onto Marinette's lap while they watched a movie and proceeded to tell her that Adrien sometimes played with his dolls and made them kiss. He'd never been so mortified in his life (and he once fought an akuma wearing a banana costume, so that was saying something), especially when Marinette had laughed until she cried.

He'd have sentenced the tiny magical agent of chaos to eating Velveeta for a week if Marinette hadn't caught her breath, removed his hands from his beet-red face, and kissed him silly.

Afterward, lovestruck, he'd asked, "So I'm not...weird?"

Cheeks still stained with the sweetest blush, eyes soft and bright and full of love, she'd responded, "Of course you are, kitty. I already knew that," and kissed him again for good measure. "It's a good thing your Lady is just as weird."

And just like that, it was okay. His pajamas, her photo collection, his action figures, her calendar.

Can I be weird? preceded his admission of being unable to sleep if his Marinette lucky charm wasn't beneath his pillow. It was asked before he learned she slept with her handmade Chat Noir plushie beside her every night.

The question is rhetorical, of course. Permission to be weird is simply indemnity from embarrassment, a solemn vow of understanding between them. It's been the lead-in to many shared secrets and it still gives him a little thrill every time, just knowing that he's about to learn another closely-held tidbit about his Lady.

Tonight, he's especially curious—the question he asked was about the future, after all.

"I used to think about it a lot," she begins quietly. "And I mean, a lot. I'm a planner, you know."

Oh, he knows. Thank goodness one of them is.

"You've seen my sketchbook. You saw my wedding dress designs and all your possible matching tuxes. Alya's dress and Nino's suit..."

"And they were beautiful, Bug. I loved them all."

He can feel her smile against his t-shirt collar.

"Thank you, Chaton. But...it's not just that. I, um...I chose the flowers for my bouquet, I planned the menu for the reception dinner—"

"And your parents will make the croquembouche," he whispers, suddenly entranced.

She nods, but goes silent once more. He wants to hear about everything—the venue she imagined for the service and reception, what they'll wear at the civil ceremony prior, whether their guests will throw rice or rose petals or wheat as they exit as newlyweds. It's all so beautiful, his heart is positively singing; how could she ever think this is weird?

"I named our children."

The song in his heart comes to an abrupt stop when the rhythm falters before restarting at hummingbird speed.

Dazed, he breathes, "Our..."

"I know!" she groans. She covers her eyes with one hand and buries her face in his shirt. Her voice is muffled, but he's hanging on every word. "I told you it was weird! I named them! I thought about who would be youngest, oldest, middle--"

"Three?" He chokes on air. Is he even breathing?

"I designed the little outfit we'd bring each of them home from the hospital in. Their nursery had a theme! Our hamster had a name! I imagined our house, our garden, the layout of the kitchen, the color of our master bathroom!"

"What color?" he asks weakly.

A pause.

"Blue."

"I love blue."

"I know."

Silence descends again, as he attempts to regulate his breathing and bring his swirling, scattered thoughts under control. She hasn't moved a muscle, and neither has he. Honestly, he's thankful to be moored to his steadfast port in the storm right now, so he can't float away or slip under.

"Adrien?"

He hums questioningly in response.

"I'm sorry." Her voice is small and tinged with sadness, slicing directly through his current bubble of overwhelmed euphoria in an instant.

Sitting up so quickly that she's dislodged from his side with a startled squeak, he pulls both of her hands between his and brings her close enough to really see her face in the shadowy moonlight.

"Why are you sorry?" he asks, baffled. "That was..." he trails off, shaking his head as he searches for the correct word, wanting to convey his feelings properly. Incredible doesn't seem like enough. Perfect, perhaps? A dream I didn't know I had until you said it, and now I want that exact thing more than I've ever wanted anything in my life?

"Crazy, I know. Selfish."

"What? No!" he exclaims, and her wide eyes snap to meet his. "Marinette, it sounds amazing!"

"Amazing?"

He lets go of her hands to gather her in a hug instead, happy to feel her arms wrap tightly around him in turn.

"Amazing," he murmurs against her hair, hoping she can hear the sincerity in his voice. "Why do you think it's selfish?"

"Because...because I never thought about what you'd want, not really. Maybe you don't want kids—"

"I want kids," he interrupts.

"Or maybe you don't like hamsters."

"Mari, I love hamsters."

She smiles against his skin. "I'm glad. I thought you'd want a cat."

"Oh, I do," he says, nodding.

"I knew it!" she laughs. "But I didn't know any of that back then. I just dreamed my own wild dreams and brought a fantasy of future you along for the ride. It wasn't fair to you." She leans back, settling her wrists over his shoulders and searching his gaze with her own. "You deserve to have a say in your own life, Adrien. For once."

A wave of stunned gratitude wells up within him and he swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. No one, not even his beloved mother, has ever extended him the courtesy of autonomy, much less apologized for not considering it in the first place. The way Marinette loves him, with a selfless, gentle kindness, is like nothing he's ever known, and it overwhelms him sometimes.

Oh, he loves her so much.

"Marinette," he says, when he's able to. "Do you want to live on a desert island with me and eat only fruit for the rest of our lives?"

She blinks, confused.

"Because that was one of my dreams," he continues. "You—well, Ladybug—me, our hamster, and a ton of fruit. Silly, right?" He shrugs. "I was a lovesick teenager. I have a feeling you know something about that, don't you, Bugaboo?" His cheeky wink and Chat Noir smirk are rewarded with the blush and giggle he'd hoped for. "My point is, I wasn't thinking about what you wanted when I daydreamed about that, and I never worried about it. You have nothing to be sorry for, Bug."

Her smile is bright even in the shadowy loft. "Thanks, Minou. Those were fun dreams."

"Were? You don't want the hamster and the blue bathroom anymore? I was just getting excited about our house and three kids."

"What do you dream about?" She asks, clearly dodging the question with one of her own.

He doesn't even have to think on it to know the answer.

"A family. Hugs. Eating dinner at a little table together. Going to the beach and seeing you in your bikini."

She snorts. "Tomcat."

"I'm only human, Mari."

"Adrien, you can purr."

"Touché."

They can only laugh. Their lives really are ridiculous.

"Princess?" He asks after they've settled into silence again. "What are their names?"

"Who?"

"Our kids."

She takes a deep, deep breath, and it feels like an eternity before she speaks. "Emma, Louis, and Hugo."

"I love them already," he breathes, imagination awhirl with scenes of bedtime stories and blanket forts and the myriad other childhood joys he only knows about from movies and tv. It's so beautiful, they're so beautiful, that he has to clench his teeth for a moment to keep from crying. "Have you drawn them?"

She nods, brow starting to furrow in concern at what must be one hell of an expression on his face.

"And their clothes? The nursery? Our kitchen?"

"Yes, I told you I was—"

"You're amazing, Marinette. I can't wait to see them. I can't wait to meet them."

Before he knows it, she's pulled him into her embrace, whispering her love against his shoulder. If a few tears escape into her hair, she doesn't say a word. They stay like that for a few long, sweet moments, until a thought pops into his mind.

"Mari? Why didn't Plagg find those drawings when he found your sketchbook of wedding ideas?"

She pulls away from him and giggles. "Because that sketchbook is hidden under the mattress."

"Along with how many of my photos?"

The mock-glare she levels at him would be terrifying if she weren't so adorable. He leans in and watches her stern expression slacken just before their lips connect and his eyes close, and her soft sigh tells him he's forgiven once more for teasing her.

They fall back against the cat pillow and soft pink sheets once more, rearranging their bodies to that perfect fit that reminds him every time how phenomenally lucky he is to have found his soul's other half as a teenager via ancient magic and fated proximity. The kiss deepens, his hands clutch at her back, and he thrills at the feel of her fingers in his hair. This is everything, everything—love and light and power and freedom, the chance for a future, a home, a family.

It's just another late autumn Tuesday night in Paris. Marinette will convince him to stay for another hour, he'll set an alarm. They'll go to school again tomorrow and, though it's certainly possible they'll defeat Hawkmoth before the day is over, it's more likely they'll simply fight and cleanse another akuma before returning to the library to work on that history project.

But it's suddenly different. He's always fought for Paris, for the safety of his friends and family, for his beloved partner. Now? A new and different feeling of protectiveness rises in his chest, even as her tongue brushes the seam of his lips and his purr rumbles gently between their bodies.

Hawkmoth will rue the day he tried to take Emma, Louis, and Hugo away before Adrien could meet them. He makes the promise right here and now, with his Lady in his arms and their kwamis sleeping on the desk below: Every akuma from now until he can punch Hawkmoth in the face and rip the misused miraculous from him, Chat Noir will fight for Paris, the world, and that shining dream of the future. He's one half of an unstoppable team. Together, they can, and will, do anything.

He and Marinette have three kids and a hamster to look forward to, after all. And it's going to be amazing.

[dimensionwriter]

Stick to Me

Part 2

Male! Merman/ Octoperson x GN! Reader

Warning: Talk of ocean, jumping into the ocean

Word Count: 2081

Part 1

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❤LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG, PLEASE💙

🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙

Vibrant reds, soft pinks, and alluring yellows wrapped around your neck in an alluring manner. The flower’s fragrance drifted from the plant and clung onto your clothes. Even on this foreign land, the flowers made you feel so safe.

The natives of this land were so kind to you. When you explain how you were simply there to talk about the beauty of their land, they were so excited to welcome you. It’s important for the approvals of the natives to enter their land. If they seem hesitant, you don’t push it. Every place that you go is being led by them and you respect their wishes if they say that a certain area is sacred and don’t bother it. They seem to like you a lot more when they saw how respectful you were to their land.

Pulling out the camera one last time, you pointed it to the group of people standing around the docking station. It was kind of a bittersweet moment having to leave them. You grew to love this land and its people, but you had your own life to go back to. There was someone that was waiting on you.

The floor on your boat was surprisingly warm from the rising sun. Puddles sprinkled around the deck with some things moved around.The chair sitting near the railing, overlooking the ocean, was pushed back towards the corner. You had a feeling what it was.

“Loire,” you called out. The sound of something splashing far away caught your ear. You moved downstairs towards your bathroom, which is the only place you know could make that sound. The door was already open allowing you to see in.

Your circular tub was filled to the brim with blue water. Orange tentacles squirmed around in the water and were spilling out of the sides. The torso of the creature was submerged in the water with the head barely above the water. The baby tentacles on his head were pulled up by your black scrunchie.

“Well, I see someone got comfortable,” you teased walking in. Loire’s arms emerged out of water and grabbed the edge of the tub to pull himself up a little. His black eyes glanced over you and a small smile came onto his face.

“You return wearing land plants. Looks beautiful around you,” he whispered. You walked over and sat on the edge of the tub. Your sandals were quick to be kicked off in order to sink your toes into the cool water. “So warm.”

A tentacle wrapped around your right ankle and stuck on. “Can I ask why you decided to take a bath on my boat instead of staying in the ocean?” Loire had stayed by your side for the last couple of months, but he never went onto your boat without you on it.

“I was watching over your pod when a… the creature you identified as dog, I believed, began to make battle cries at your pod,” his shoulder puffed out and his head rose up, “I need to protect your pod, so I swam on and scared it away.”

By the way he’s presenting himself, he obviously thought he did a heroic act by protecting your boat from a dog. He’s so adorable and doesn’t even realize it.

“Thank you, my hero.” You gave his tentacles closest to you a small little pat. The flesh felt so cold and slightly slimy, but you were used to it. The small blue freckles shined brightly as the limb moved to wrap around your hand.

His limbs tugged you forward causing you to almost fall in the tub. You opened your mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a harder pull. Your body lurched forward and you landed in the cold water.

Slender arms wrapped around your waist in order to snuggle up into you. It was so cold but so comforting at the same time. Your body was confused on how to feel.

“Loire?” You lifted your head up to see his face was majority blue. His midnight eyes glances down at you before looking up again. “You good there, buddy? You’re getting a little affectionate.”

He tightened his grip on you and placed his head on top of your head. Multiple limbs wrapped around your legs. “Affection is a part of our situation. Is it not?”

‘Our situation’? He has stated that in his shoal, it’s customary to make sure your actions are equal to others. Since he believes that you saved his life, he wants to make his actions equal. However, you don’t see how that would require affection.

You couldn’t complain though. It’s been a while since you’ve been in the embrace of another. He’s so soft and seems to mold to fit you.

The coolness of the water and the soft flesh of his tentacles slowly massaging your legs made you drift towards sleep. Maybe it was from being the sun for so many days or how… safe you felt in his arms, who knows?

“Hmm, I guess so.”

You awoke to feel a slight dampness surrounding you. You rolled over and pulled the comforter more around you, but you still felt wet. Why was your bed so wet?

Opening your eyes, the light inside of your bedroom was on. You pulled the comforter off of yourself to see that it was wet. Even your clothes were wet. How did you end up in your bed wet?

You remember dozing off on Lorei’s cool chest, but you don’t remember walking to your bed. Did he slither all the way from the bathroom to your bedroom while carrying you? Wow, he’s a lot stronger than you thought.

The cool air nipped at your skin as you hopped out of the bed. There were small little droplets of water all over the floor. However, there was something else that caught your eye. Blue petals littered lowly around your floor and led out to maybe around the main deck.

You followed the path of the flowers and came to the railing of the deck. The moonlight lit the deck in a soft blue light and reflected beautifully over the water. Calm waves pushed against the boat, but it elicited a happy feeling from you.

Grabbing the cold railing, you peaked over the edge of the boat. In the water were full bioluminescent flowers that were a light purple near the center and slowly turned to a dark blue near the edge. All the glowing flowers stayed in a giant circle, were in the middle floated Loire.

His orange skin was tinged with a blue hue from the moonlight and water making him seeing otherworldly. The tiny tentacles on his head were pushed back and seemed to stay there. On some of the tentacles were tiny golden bands. Gold paint was smeared onto his face in a similar manner to tribal marking. A thick line went from behind his pointed ears to the sides of his neck before swirling along his muscular chest.

“Loire, what’s this?” You asked while keeping your grip on the railing. His black eyes stared at you with a sort of hope in them.

“Do you trust me with your life?” His tone was strong and unwavering. The water rolled down his sculpted arms as he raised them up towards you. “Do you… trust me?”

The way he was stating it was like he was expecting you to… jump. But he can’t be serious right. Maybe this was some sort of East Ocean Kingdom joke. He wasn’t expecting you to drop 8 feet into freezing cold water.

His arms dropped a little and you could see the corners of his lips forming a frown. Oh to hell with it.

“You better not let anything happen,” you playfully grumbled. You kicked your left leg over the railing before throwing over the right one. Sitting on the railing with a tight grip on it, you realized that 8 feet seem a lot longer in the dark.

You tore your eyes from the dark murky water to Loire. His eyes were big and wide with happiness as his arms went back to being outreached for you.The tiny tentacles on his hair started to curl around themselves and twitching slightly.

You took a slow breath in before slowly exhaling. Your grip on the railing loosen and body fell forward. Your heart was beating at a hundred miles per hour while your stomach lurched up into your throat. You couldn’t stop your eyes from squeezing shut in fear.

When you were supposed to hit the water, a pair of strong arms cradled under you. An arm wrapped around your upper body while the second one went under your legs. Your body didn’t even touch the water.

Opening your eyes, a pair of black ones stared deeply into yours. A giant smile broke out onto his face as tiny giggles slipped out of him. He dropped his face into your neck and started snuggling into your neck.

“Loire,” you whispered into his ear. He lifted his head away from you and his entire face was dark blue. “Can I get a reason for why you made me jump off of my ship?”

“It’s a custom of my shoal. We must ensure there exists a bond of trust between two creatures before going through with… with the… with the mating ritual. In order for me to ask for you to consider me to be your mate, under the approving gaze of the moon goddess’ eyes, I need to see if I had your trust. And it seems I do.”

The blush had settled down on his face, only allowing you to see his beautiful orange skin. Tiny blue freckles splatted around his cheeks and down his chest. A few of them were hidden under the golden paint.

“Consider you my mate?” You lifted a hand and ran it along his chest. He was cold to the touch, but so firm. You drifted over and touched the paint. It didn’t feel like any paint from the surface.

“Y-yeah. I am bound to you until our actions are equal, but I want to be closer. I want to be yours… and I want you to be mine.” Your fingers were behind his ears now. You moved it until your fingers were at the base of his head.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You weren’t oblivious. You knew what he meant when he said he wanted to be your mate; he would become the equivalent of your husband. And… you liked that idea. You could imagine spending the rest of this vacation with Loire by your side. And your job allows you to work from home, so you can stay out here with him. You could see your future with Loire by your side.

“I don’t think I could even imagine my life without you at this point,” you muttered hiding your face in his neck. How did you not even notice yourself falling for an octoman?

“Really!” Water splashed on around as Loire began to jump around in the water. You let out a squeal and some laughter at the cool droplets coming onto your skin. His arms around you pulled you closer to him as he spun you around. “I will treat you better than any queen or king you have seen on land or ocean.”

He stopped spinning and snuggled up against you. You leaned forward to press a kiss against the area above his lip. Blue spread against his cheeks as he looked down at you.

Leaning forward, he left barely an inch of space between your lips. Heat spread up your cheeks as you realized what he was planning to do. In his words, “Affection is a part of our situation. Is it not?”

“I’ve been waiting to do this for months,” he growled in your ear. A cold pair of lips were pressed against yours as he pulled you closer to him. The kiss was so soft, but you could feel his love through it.

If a year ago, someone would tell you that you would end up the mate of a half human half octopus, you would have thought they were crazy. But here, under the light of the moon, in the cold water, you couldn’t imagine it any other way.

“Now, let’s get back in your pod so I can warm you up,” he purred, pecking your cheek.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Here’s that second part I’ve promised. I apologized if it seems a little weird at the end, I’ve started dissociation a little while writing the end. I still push through because I wanted to get this done today, so I can write this new story I’m really looking forward to. 

Anyway, the question for this story is, ‘Would you have jump if Loire asked you to?’ To be honest, I definitely wouldn’t have.Even if I was a foot off the ground, I would have been too scared to. 

[carelessannie]

maybe it goes like this: tony courts peter (part 7)

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Epilogue

Read on A03

Read the Stuckony backstory

Word count: 5.7K

Pack focus. This means Clint x Peter x Annie (OFC), Clint x Steve, Steve x Peter, Bucky x OFC, and Steve x Tony x Bucky x Clint x Annie x Peter (wow)

It all goes to hell, because, of course it does. But it’s exciting to fix it, because everyone is falling in love.

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, subdrop, almost a fight bc Clint is aggressive

---

maybe it goes like this:

“So… have you heard from him yet?”

Annie sighs, rolling her eyes, and refrains from shaking the precious Omega standing behind her,

“Not in the past three minutes, Peter.”

“Sorry, I just—”

“I know, you’re nervous,” she tries to drop the tone, squinting in the bathroom mirror to finish her eyeliner, “why don’t you just call him? Or your boyfriend?”

In the reflection, Peter pouts, crossing his arms, “I tried, but both went to voicemail. He should have been done by now.”

Annie takes care to sweep perfectly symmetrical wings across each upper lid, before exchanging her eyeliner for a brighter tube of mascara. It’s taking a lot of effort to ignore Peter as he stresses over their evening, but no one has ever called her a quitter.

Peter continues his spiral in her silence, “What if they got into a fight? Could he be dead— is there a chance Steve killed him? Or what if he dropped again, and there’s no one there to help him? What if they’re in the hospital—”

Enough.

“Peter, stop it,” Annie finally turns away from the mirror and grabs Peter by his shoulders, “if any of those things happened, one of their packmates would have called by now. I know we have to leave soon, but there’s really nothing we can do, okay?”

Peter’s eyes tear up a bit and he sniffles, looking down at his outfit, which currently is one of Clint’s shirts and a pair of leggings, “Annie, I’m not— I’m not even dressed yet.”

“Let me help you, okay Pete?” she steers him out of the bathroom and towards their wardrobe, picking up her phone to try calling again as they sort through possible outfit choices for Peter.

The phone rings— once, twice, three times— before,

“Yello.”

“Clint Barton! Do you know how many times we’ve tried calling—”

“Annie! Holy shit, Annie— is Peter there? Do you have me on speaker?”

She shakes her head in disbelief while pressing the speaker button, making sure Peter can hear too.

“Is that Clint?” Peter asks, pointing at the phone. Annie nods, and Peter gasps, “You asshole! I tried to call you so many times, where on earth have you been?”

“I’m so sorry, Omega, honestly— the conversation with Steve went longer than I expected and I’m driving back now. But please, I have to tell you— I’m compatible with him!”

Both Omegas exchange a look, clearly confused and doubtful of their Beta.

“What does that mean, Clint?”

“It means I’ve got a chance. I thought I’d hate him, or be forced to put up with him for your sake. But, honestly… he’s pretty amazing. I can tell he cares a whole freaking lot about his pack and I think he’s in this for real.”

Peter reaches out to grab her hand, and Annie can’t help but smile back.

“Did you tell him your history?” Annie prompts, pulling Peter next to her so that they can sit close together on the floor.

She can almost hear Clint waving his hands around, animated in his response. “Yeah, I shared most of it with him and it made him cry, honest to god. I also told him he could catch his mates up to speed—”

“— oh my god, did you see Tony?” Peter cuts in, eyes lighting up as he wrings his tiny hands together nervously.

“Yes, needy Omega, I saw Tony. I gave him the flowers, and we had a little heart to heart, too. Real sexy, you know—”

“Shut up, Clint!” Peter squeals as Annie breaks down into helpless giggles at seeing his face light up pink, “does that mean you talked to all three of them, then?”

A small pause, “... no, actually that was kind of awkward. They said that… it seemed like… they had just finished a scene together when I showed up.”

“Oh, shit.” Annie breaths.

“Yeah, Tony definitely didn’t know I was coming,”

Peter covers his mouth, eyes going wide, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I literally can’t believe I forgot to tell him. That sounds so horrible, C!”

There’s a chuckle on the other end, “Don’t worry, Petey, no harm done. I’ll be home soon, and we can head back out there, okay?”

Annie gives Peter a small kiss on the cheek before standing, grabbing her phone, saying, “sounds good, see ya Clint,” and hanging up without another word.

She spins, taking in Peter’s lost expression and the clothing scattered around their closet.

Okay. Motivation.

Peter yelps as Annie hauls him up by his armpits, “Time to get ready, Peter. C’mon— you are gonna look absolutely stunning tonight.”

Finally Peter’s expression melts and a genuine smile breaks out over his face. He pulls Annie closer, leaning in for a quick peck on the lips— careful to avoid messing up her lip gloss.

“I adore you, Annie,” he whispers, “— these boys are not gonna know what hit ‘em.”

She reaches up to twist one of his curls playfully before returning a smirk,

“You’re damn right.”

---

“I don’t see why I have to be in the backseat. I clearly called shotgun.”

Clint has been whining ever since they left their apartment, insisting that he was severely wronged by his insolent Omegas. Both of those Omegas are having fun ignoring him— turning up their music and talking louder to drown out his voice.

It took a half hour for Clint to get home after his call, and by some miracle, all three of them were dressed and ready to go with time to spare. Annie had spent time curling Peter’s hair into perfect ringlets before finishing his makeup with sparkly-pink eyeshadow and gloss. Both of them were ready and dressed before Clint got home, and had pushed and prodded the bewildered Beta into a nicer button up with dark jeans and combat boots.

Annie is proud of her and Peter’s outfits, of course. Not many Omegas can pull off pink like they can, and her powdered pink coat goes flawlessly with Peter’s pink polka dot button up. But even more than their outfits, she is proud of how put together their chaotic Beta looks.

After catching Peter glancing back in the rearview mirror for the third time, she decides to say something.

She turns down the music, “You look like a snack, Clint.”

Peter snickers as Clint looks down at himself in bewilderment, “I swear, I’ve never seen these clothes before in my entire life. But, thanks. I guess.”

Since Peter insisted on driving, he can only glance quickly to try and gauge Clint’s expression.

“Those boots are yours,” Peter says.

“Yeah, but when did you guys even have time to buy me clothes?” Clint’s back to complaining, and grumbles sneaky Omegas under his breath.

Annie turns, lightly slapping the inside of Clint’s thigh where he’s sprawled across the backseat, “Hush and take a compliment, Beta. I think I speak for both of us when I say we want to climb you like a tree.”

Peter gasps, swatting at her with one hand, as Clint’s eyes go wide.

She continues, “I mean, it has been awhile since we’ve had a scene, and the mention of Tony’s pack has me—”

Clint leans forward, posture straightening as he grabs her chin to silence her, “— you feeling horny, Omega?” he purrs, a feral grin taking over his face.

“M— maybe.”

“Have I not been taking care of you, Annie?” he moves closer, and forces Annie to turn almost completely in her seat.

“... Clint.”

He grips harder, “Try again.”

“Fuck, Beta. Please.”

“— guys, can this wait—” Peter tries to interrupt, but is quickly shut down by Clint growling, low.

“Sweet Omegas, is that why you dressed me up? Feeling all needy and shit?” he releases his hold on Annie’s chin and moves back to his seat, relaxing again before letting out a sigh, “but you’re right, Pete. This can wait.”

The silence is charged. Both Omegas wiggling in their seats in response to Clint’s dominant display, and Annie whimpers— a small sound that causes Peter’s breath to catch in his throat.

“Aw, Annie. No— come here,” Clint leans forward again, and as she turns he catches her lips in a lingering kiss, licking into her mouth quickly and coaxing a grin out of her.

“Don’t want you to drop, gorgeous. You know I’ll take care of you both, right? Love you so much.”

She pecks him on the lips, satisfied to see some of her pink lip gloss stain his mouth, “Love you, Clint. And you do look amazing tonight.”

“Thanks, pretty Omega,” even though it’s dark in the car, she can tell he’s blushing by the way he ducks his head bashfully.

Annie turns back to face front and catches the slight pout on Peter’s face. She crosses the center console to kiss behind his ear, and enjoys the surprised squawk from the younger Omega.

“Annie! I’m driving!”

Clint laughs, and reaches forward to rub Peter’s shoulder, “We love you too, Petey-pie.”

“Shut up.”

Both of them crack up as Peter shakes himself free. Annie intertwines their fingers and Clint settles back into his seat, quietly staring out the window at the oncoming traffic. She feels a small squeeze and looks up, exchanging a reassuring smile with Peter.

The rest of their drive passes in relative silence, and soon they are pulling up a long, winding driveway into what Annie would swear is a rainforest jungle.

As Peter navigates around the property, he explains, “Tony said that he bought this land right after Steve and Bucky courted him. A lot of it is a nature preserve, and it backs right to the Jamaica Bay. I know all of them wanted to stay in Brooklyn, but Tony absolutely refused to live near anyone, so they built this house together with the hope of living here with their future pack.”

Both Annie and Clint are glued to the window. They watch as the looming trees suddenly part, revealing a modern, sharply-angled, and breathtakingly enormous house. There are at least three stories, and the whole structure seems to be built into the surrounding forest, with a noticeable extension out into the bay.

“Peter,” Annie breathes out, still stunned speechless.

“I know, that’s how I felt earlier.” Clint replies, still looking out at the quickly approaching home.

Peter hums quietly, but Annie can see him shaking slightly. As they pull up and he parks the car, she gives his knuckles a kiss, “Peter?”

He turns and she catches a NervousDistress scent radiating off of him.

That’s not good.

With a quick look to Clint, they both jump out of the car, rounding the side to Peter’s door, and pull the startled Omega out of the driver’s seat.

“What are you— hey!”

“Come here, nervous Omega, and let us hug you,” Clint pulls Peter in, wrapping him in his arms, as Annie turns the car off. She joins the group hug and lets Clint wrap his arms around both of them.

After a few moments, Clint pulls back, gently scenting both of them for any lingering distress. Instead, he groans, “Damn, you two smell like fuckin’ ice cream. So sweet.”

Peter giggles and Annie leans up for a kiss— earning one from Clint first, then Peter.

“Feel better, Peter?” Annie asks, pulling away to look at his face.

He shrugs, “Yes, I just need to trust Tony to do his part, and… I think I’m just really excited to see him again,” he ducks his head, and Clint places another kiss on top.

“Let’s go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Ew, Clint, stop.” Both Omegas complain as Clint tows them towards the entrance, knocking firmly on the door.

They are still arguing about the merits of cheesy nicknames, when the door swings open.

“Tony!” Peter shrieks, throwing himself forward and into the larger man’s arms.

“Hi, baby,” Tony coos, picking his Omega up and spinning them around, “you look so pretty, Pete. You all do, honestly. Such a pretty pack.”

“Thanks Beta,” Peter stretches up to give him a peck on the cheek, and then freezes.

“Peter? What—” Tony puts him down, and Annie watches as two figures approach them in the hallway.

She hears Clint growl behind her, and immediately her eyes turn to Peter. She can only see the side of his face, but his eyes are wide, pupils dilated, and he sucks in a quick breath.

“A— alpha,” he moans, swaying on his feet.

The larger man— Steve, probably— steps out of the shadow and pushes Tony to the side, looming over Peter and reaching to grab his neck.

There’s an echo of growls, one behind and one ahead, before Peter collapses to his knees.

“Fuck no!”

Clint reacts suddenly, pushing Annie behind him. He jumps forward and aims a blow towards Steve, who’s still looking down at Peter, eyes glowing red. Before the hit can land, both Tony and Bucky step forward, blocking the attack on their Alpha and tearing Clint away.

Tony grabs Peter, pulling him to his feet, and pushes him into Annie’s arms.

“Down the hall, to the right. Settle him in the living room and we’ll handle this, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before grabbing Clint and dragging him back outside, hopefully to calm down. Annie struggles to carry the larger Omega down the hall, and thankfully neither Steve nor Bucky are anywhere to be found.

When they finally reach the living room, she drops Peter in a large nesting chair towards the corner and searches for blankets. After finding a few, she wraps him in them and climbs into the nest, throwing the others over top of them to enclose the space.

“Petey?”

No response. Shit.

She moves them so he’s facing her fully, and tries to shake him awake. It seems like whatever happened actually knocked him out, and she checks his eyes, his breathing, before holding him close.

“Petey, you have to wake up for me.”

It’s hard not lacing her words with a dominant tone, but the direct order seems to reach him and Peter’s breath picks up.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart, c’mon.”

His eyes blink open wide and he looks around frantically.

“— Alpha?” he whimpers.

“No, Peter. It’s me. Tell me what you need, Pete.”

He focuses on her then, lips opening and closing before he’s able to speak, “Need’ta come up, Omega. Please.”

Annie strokes over his brow, “Okay, Pete. I’ve got you.”

She uses one hand to block his eyes and the other to peel back the blankets, looking around for someone to help, and sees Bucky in the kitchen.

“Bucky, help,” she whispers, hoping the other Omega can hear her across the room.

His head shoots up as he takes in the situation, and he swiftly walks over. He looks into her eyes, sees her hold on Peter, and drops to his knees next to the nest,

“What do you need, Omega?”

She has to stop herself from reaching out to touch him, and instead keeps her eyes on Peter, “Please tell me you have apples, bananas and carrots? Or crackers?”

“I do— do you want them sliced, Omega?”

“Yes, thank you,” she agrees, turning back to Peter as Bucky hurries back into the kitchen. She cradles his head, keeping one hand over his eyes to block them from the light, and lets him curl in closer to her as he floats.

“Sweet Omega,” she whispers, pulling him closer, “so good for me. So good, Peter.”

“Here,” Bucky says gently, and offers her a plate with slices of each food. He also hands her a bottle of water.

“Thanks, Bucky. Can you dim the lights? Maybe light candles if you have them?”

“Of course.”

He walks away to lower the lights, and Annie finally takes her hand off of Peter’s eyes. He blinks up at her, adorably confused, and gives her a small smile.

“Apple, Peter,” she says, pressing the apple slice up against his lips. He takes a small bite and she watches as he chews and swallows before offering another.

Once the apple is gone, she holds up the next fruit, “Banana.”

He takes the softer fruit in one bite, and Annie notices his eyes clearing up and he tightens his grip on her arm.

“Last one, Peter. Can you tell me what it is?”

“Carrot, Annie,” he says, smooth and steady, chewing the carrot slice while maintaining eye contact.

After he swallows, she hands him the bottle of water. He drinks it slowly, taking in the room and turns his gaze back to her.

“What— what happened?”

Bucky comes back over to them and looks to Annie for direction. She motions for him to join them in the nest, and they both move over as Bucky climbs in, pulling the other Omegas to nestle into his side.

“What do you remember, Peter?” Annie asks, reaching over to hold his hand on top of Bucky’s chest.

“I… I’m not sure. I remember being in Tony’s arms, and then— did I meet Steve? And someone attacked him? I don’t know Annie, I just remember floating and then coming back up.”

Bucky makes a pained noise, “Stevie reacted to Clint’s challenge, an’ his display caused you’ta drop.”

“Display, what—”

Annie sighs, “Basically, Clint saw you react to the new Alpha. His hindbrain registered that as a threat, and he growled— challenging Steve. I think Steve must have released some type of Alpha pheromones, because my mind went hazy too. After that, both of them were growling and you kneeled for him.”

“For— Steve?”

“Yeah, Pete. He pushed Tony away to get to you and Clint attacked him. That’s when Bucky and Tony took control and split everyone up. Nothing happened to you— to anyone, okay?”

Peter still looks devastated and pulls his hand away, sitting up in the nest, “I can’t believe. I just— submitted like that. I didn’t even do that with Tony, but with a random Alpha—”

“Peter, hey,” Bucky grabs his hand, trying to calm him down, “it’s instincts, darlin’. Steve is really dominant, and in this setting— with everyone on edge and feelin’ horny and stuff— honestly… I’m a little pissed we didn’t plan better. Especially after Clint came by earlier.”

Annie sits up then, drawing Peter closer to her to sit across Bucky’s lap, “He’s right, Pete, none of us have ever dealt with a Dominant Alpha meeting a Submissive Omega before. There’s no way we could have anticipated how Clint was gonna react.”

They sit for a few more minutes before Bucky stands up, “I’m gonna check on Tony and Clint— I think I have a plan for tonight.”

It’s a few more minutes that the two Omegas can sit in silence, eventually moving from the nesting chair over to the couch and preening each others’ hair and makeup. There’s a sound from down the main hallway, and a figure comes barreling towards them.

Annie throws her arm over Peter and yells, “Hey!” to get the person— Clint, it’s freaking Clint— to stop. He falls to his knees, only a foot or two away from them, and crawls the rest of the distance.

“Petey, I’m so sorry. Sweet Omega, I had no idea— I didn’t mean— I’m so so sorry, oh my god, I completely freaked out and ruined your night, please—”

“Beta, come here,” Peter opens up his arms, and Clint falls into them, clawing at Peter’s back and scenting him thoroughly, “it’s okay, C, I understand. I forgive you.”

Annie looks up to find Bucky and Tony standing, bewildered, in the entrance for the living room. She gestures towards the couch next to them, a clear invitation to take a seat, and Tony quickly moves to sit next to Peter and pull him into a hug after Clint releases him.

“So— Annie, Peter,” Bucky starts, shifting on his feet, “I have an idea, and our Betas have agreed to it.”

“What is it, Bucky?” Peter asks, surrounded now by both Tony and Clint, and looking beyond satisfied.

Bucky looks off, down the hallway behind the kitchen, “I think we should go to my nest. The— the three of us. Omegas, I mean. And meet Stevie there.”

“But… why?”

“It’s neutral,” Tony chimes in, “and Peter needs to meet Steve somewhere safe. Bucky’s the only one who can really bring the dumb Alpha out of his head— so the nest seems like the best idea. And a balance of chaperones that are all Omega should help ground everyone present. It’s a good idea.”

Annie stands up, crossing her arms, and looks at the two Betas, “You’re serious? You’re both completely okay with this, and anything that could happen in that room?”

Tony nods, but it’s really Clint’s reaction that she’s waiting for. The Beta also agrees, nodding slowly, “I told you I would try.”

Peter gets to his feet, wiping off his pants, and offers his hand to Annie. He then walks towards Bucky and offers a second hand, “Lead the way, Omega,” he says, grinning at them both.

Bucky gives a tug, and pulls them down the hallway. They pass the kitchen, a few other rooms that are all closed, and turn a corner. On the right side is a set of french doors with curtains— bedroom?— and the left—

“Holy shit.”

“Oh my god.”

Bucky steps away from them to gesture to his nest, the large fixture taking up the majority of the space in a room that could have otherwise been a large library. Or a sunroom.

Two of the walls are windows— they stretch from floor to ceiling and meet at the arched apex of the ceiling where a large, twinkling chandelier cascades down, filling the room with warm light and extending over the white canopy that dominates the center of the space. Twinkle lights surround and flow around the nest— dropping over and under the structure— and a few smaller lamps sit strategically both outside and inside.

The nest itself seems to be slightly elevated— giving the illusion of floating in the center of the room on a simple wooden palette. There are vines and ferns sprinkled around the base, and Annie can see the legs of at least one table that reach underneath the canopy. It’s a cloud. It’s a dream.

There’s definitely someone inside.

“Bucky, this is… amazing.” Annie is still frozen with Peter in a similar state beside her.

“C’mon,” Bucky finally reaches back and snaps his fingers, breaking them out of their trance. He grabs Peter first, kneeling up on the entrance to push back the curtain and let Peter in. Annie ducks down, following Peter through the opening.

Okay, the meeting in the hallway earlier did nothing to prepare her for the giant, hulking Alpha in Bucky’s nest. Even with his head down and neck exposed, Steve is a sight to behold, and by far the most dominant Alpha that Annie has been around in her entire life.

Strong hands grab her from behind, and Bucky settles both of them near the entrance to watch.

Steve has his eyes down still, throat exposed, as Peter inches forward. They all freeze as his scent changes to CuriousInnocentDistressedOmega, and finally Steve looks up.

The sound that comes from Peter is not quite a whimper. He turns his head to the side and makes it again.

An invitation.

Steve moves immediately and folds Peter into his arms. He makes a low reassuring noise, and Peter just melts, a high pitch chirp leaving his lips before his body goes limp. Steve has a tight hold on him, and turns their bodies to settle the tiny Omega underneath him. Almost in sync, they bare their throats and scent each other.

Annie scoots closer to Bucky, letting him wind his arms around her as she rests between his legs, against his chest. He stretches his legs out, and she turns slightly to add her legs to the tangle.

There’s a small sniffling noise, and both Omegas look up. Steve is still holding Peter close— but now they’re eye to eye, and Peter is crying. Annie immediately sits up to separate them, but Bucky holds her back, whispering for her to wait.

They watch as the Alpha and Omega cry together, sharing comfort and tears, as they continue to scent-mark each other.

“Is it uncomfortable to watch your Alpha connect with another Omega like this?” Annie whispers.

Bucky, still behind her, just draws aimless circles on her arm as he responds, “We talked ‘bout it. Doesn’t feel weird— just feels right, ya know?”

She nods, “It definitely looks right.”

And it does. Annie thinks about her mom and dad— how many times she’s envied their bond and the love that they share. Even then, they are a VersAlpha and VersOmega couple and they’ve never been able to build the pack that they want, even though their relationship has been full of love and their pack is strong.

With Steve and Peter… it feels like watching a King and his Queen. It feels like the ocean meeting the shore, like stars in the sky, like pen on paper. The perfect balance, opposites fated by biology, Alpha and Omega.

It feels right.

Annie is crying now, and notices it when Bucky reaches up to wipe one of her tears away. She leans into him, moving her hair and exposing her neck for him to scent. He intertwines their fingers around her waist and she can feel his nose, his mouth, pressed against her sensitive bonding glands.

In an uncharacteristically dominant move, Bucky lifts one of his own wrists for her to scent. She pulls it closer and sniffles at his pulse point, enjoying his warm Milk Chocolate and sweet Orange scent.

“Oranges and Strawberries,” he breathes, tickling her neck.

“Chocolate and Caramel,” she takes one more inhale before turning in his arms, letting the other Omega stare into her eyes.

She licks her lips, “I’ve missed your scent. I can’t believe how compatible… I mean, you know— how good—”

Bucky chuckles, playing with a piece of her hair, “I can’t believe how compatible we are either, darlin’.”

Damn, he’s sweet. Annie can feel her face heat up, but she’s helpless to look into his eyes, steel-blue and darkening by the second. He’s holding her so close, and he’s so warm. She closes her eyes, letting a quiet purr build from deep in her chest.

There’s a soft press on her lips, and she gasps, fluttering her eyes open to see Bucky pulling away from her face with a shy smile.

“Sorry, sorry, I thought—”

“— why’d you stop?” Annie asks, returning his smile.

This time she sits up, pushing into his space, and locks their lips together. His hands clutch tighter around her waist as he tilts her head back, deepening the kiss. His lips move slowly, sweetly, and she keens into the feeling, opening her mouth a little more, inviting him to take.

Instead, he slows the kisses down further, releasing her waist and brushing his fingers over her eyelids, her cheek, and she rests her hands on his chest. He pulls back after one last kiss, lips red and bruised, and a smile lights up his face. She hums her approval, sure her face looks similar, and moves one hand to brush back the hair off his forehead.

“Wow.”

The voice breaks the spell— Peter and Steve are staring at them, mouths agape. Annie pushes Bucky away and he laughs, trying to catch her around the waist before she can escape. Peter giggles, still so cute and tiny in Steve’s monster arms, and Steve can’t help but laugh along.

Okay, so maybe making out in the nest wasn’t a great idea.

She looks back at Bucky— head thrown back in laughter and eyes bright with joy— and honestly she doesn’t care. She feels her heart soften, almost literally, and pulls him in for one more kiss— ignoring the protests coming from the back of the nest. Bucky’s lips taste like heaven.

Once they break apart, Peter crawls over, nudging her to change places with him.

“Real quick, Annie. You haven’t even met him yet.”

“Okay, okay— pushy Omega.”

Peter immediately snuggles into Bucky’s arms, and the two turn to watch as Annie shuffles over to where Steve is still seated.

He gives her a hesitant smile, and offers his hand, “Hi Annie, I’m Steve.”

She looks down at the professional handshake he’s trying to give her and back up to him in disbelief. Boys are idiots. Shaking her head, she crawls the last few inches and sits squarely in his lap, offering her neck, “Hi Steve, I’m Annie,” and she guides his hand back around her waist and his nose into her throat.

There’s a moment where she can tell he takes over, and she lets herself relax in his strong grip. He nuzzles into her neck, scenting her deeply, and she slowly leans down to do the same.

Oh. Oh no.

“Oh, oh my god, Steve—” she mewls— yeah, fucking mewls— into his skin, and is horrified to feel his pulse under her tongue.

Annie, you are fucking licking this man. Get yourself together.

No. He tastes delicious.

And it’s true— Steve tastes like actual Summer Storms and strong, Espresso Lattes, and she cannot keep her mouth off of him.

The other two Omegas are chuckling from the other side of the nest, and she huffs in irritation, trying her absolute hardest to pull away from this Alpha’s body.

“S— sorry, fuck. I can’t believe. You’re just... you’re just so—” get it together, Annie.

“Hey,” Steve thrums, and she looks up into his deep, blue eyes, “I’m flattered— no harm done. For the record... I think you smell delicious, too,” and he winks at her, making a point to squeeze her tighter before they separate.

“Peeeete,” she whines, falling back to look at her packmate, “we’re marrying them, right?”

Peter giggles, “Seems like we might be.”

ProudSatisfiedContentAlpha absolutely saturates the nest, and all three Omegas turn to look, suddenly thirsty for Steve’s Coffee.

Bucky moves first, putting the smaller Omegas behind him and moving quickly to his Alpha. Annie watches as they share a quiet moment, before both men turn towards them with similar fond expressions.

“Sorry, uh— let's go see our Betas, okay?” Steve asks, ushering them back towards the entrance.

Annie and Peter stumble out of the nest, waiting to be led back to the living room. Bucky is careful to turn the lights out and straighten the nest, displaying the care and importance he obviously places in his home. Steve loops his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him in for a quick kiss, before giving him a playful shove to get them moving down the hallway.

It’s clear the Betas are laughing and enjoying each other’s company as they arrive, and Annie heads quickly to Clint’s side, ruffling his hair and accepting a kiss on the cheek. Steve sits in an unoccupied loveseat, but Bucky doesn’t go to join him. Instead, he and Peter exchange a few words and Bucky sits next to Tony, ducking under his arm.

The room is quiet— only a few whispers between Tony and Bucky— and Peter turns to settle onto Clint’s lap. Annie lets him go, watching as Peter scents— no, scent-marks— him thoroughly, rubbing the combined scent of Alpha and Omegas into his skin. Clint’s breathing picks up and he looks at Peter, confused.

“Omega, what—”

“Hush,” Peter grabs his face, whispering intensely, “you are going to ask that Alpha to scent you, and you’re gonna go sit on his lap. Don’t you dare come back to us until you smell like him, do you hear me?”

Clint looks properly chastised as Peter hops up off his lap, grabs Annie’s hand, and pulls them to sit with Bucky and Tony on the couch.

They watch Clint’s internal crisis as he walks over to Steve’s seat, obviously uncomfortable but oh so stubborn and determined.

He stops in front of Steve, who looks up in question, “Steve.”

“Clint.”

“I need… Can I— can I formally scent you?”

Steve actually looks shocked, “I… yeah, of course, Clint. Whatever you’d like.”

Clint looks back at them— Bucky flashing him two thumbs up— and steels himself, grabbing Steve’s shoulders before climbing onto his lap. Steve raises his hands, obviously not expecting the submissive posture, and looks to their couch for some direction.

Both Bucky and Tony give him a shrug. Helpful.

When Clint settles in, wiggling a few times, Steve bares his throat and lowers his eyes in submission. Every person in the room gasps, and Bucky might even let out a small, hysterical laugh.

Clint doesn’t say a thing. He leans in and gently presses his nose to Steve’s pulse point, audibly inhaling. His body visibly relaxes, and he pulls Steve in to scent him in return.

Annie settles back against Peter, letting the three men fold her into their embrace. The room feels light and heavy at the same time. All six packmates are relaxed— breathing in each others’ scents and eyes closed to the warmth of close bodies. The joy of shared kisses.

Behind her, there are soft sounds of kisses and whispered promises being exchanged. In front of her, her best friend and future Alpha are wrapped in an intimate embrace, crying and clutching at each others’ faces.

There’s a hand on her shoulder, and she turns to face Peter’s half-lidded, giddy expression,

“I love you so much, Annie.”

He leans down— kissing her head, her eyelids, and her nose— and holds her close as he presses a tender kiss onto her lips. Both of their eyes close, and they smile into each others’ mouths. Peter gives a small nip to her bottom lip as both of them break apart laughing.

They look up and see Steve and Clint, finally standing and making their way to the couch. Annie opens up her arms to catch Clint as he dives forward, and all of them groan as he gets comfortable in their arms.

Annie glances up, watching Steve. The Alpha looks so proud and happy— and even as Bucky and Tony start to whine about being hungry, it seems as though the only thing Steve wants is to make his pack happy.

And that’s something Annie can get on board with.

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch19 Paintings By Ghosts

(It took me A LONG time to research and find out what all the paintings in Hat Kid's gallory looked like. If I missed any or got any wrong please let me know. All mentioned paintings can me seen in the painting room through the green door in the machine room of the ship.)

Lunch breaks were nice.

She was starving so before anything else she wanted to get somethin' in her stomach. Looking in the lil gal's fridge, there really wasn't too much of anything. It was all pretty empty except for a basket of apples, half a cheese wheel, and what looked like a carton of eggs. Well, she wasn't about to not get something to eat, and down at least three of those apples she had. They weren't as sweet tasting as she remembered the ones her father grew on their farm were, but as if this person was going to start complaining about food at this point of her life. Sure her life was REALLY crazy up to this calm point, all of it sounded like a really bad story, she was going to have to learn a whole knew pecking world different from her old one, and she was going to have to deal with her past. But if there was one thing she needed to do now was take that darn ghost's advice.

"The important thing is that I can't change or fix anything that's already happened alright? I can't send you back. I can't give you anything from your old life......And I can't change what happened to you. But, I can help make the future easier and help you with whatever you need to settle down with alright? But you got to understand that it's NOT just going to be with a snap of my fingers."

He was right. What had happened happened and there's no way she was going back there anyways, so it looks like she'd just have to start where she left off way back when. Hard work. Save up enough pons. And get that flower stand! May not seem like a giant grand idea like some would expect, but that's what she always wanted. A life where she could surround herself by precious beautiful flowers admiring their beauty and scent and give them all to people who enjoyed them as much as she does. Her blue eyes reflected in the gold coloring of the bracelet that was still tight around her wrist, bringing her other hand up to clamp around it to herself. Her business may have never taken off if that one fateful encounter with the handsome and kind prince from the neighboring kingdom hadn't taken such interest in the way she grew her little babies. He never said one bad thing about them. Complimenting on how deep a red her roses are and surprising him when she said they didn't just come in red...She chuckled remembering that silly surprised face of his.

The prince stared at her shocked, brown eyes blinking as she held out the white and red rose bouquet to him. "Wow. You're telling me they really come in more than three colors?"

She nodded  back at him. "Yep! How many colors did you think they came in?"

He figeted fiddling with the soft petals of one white rose nervously. "W-Well. I knew there was a whole bunch of red ones, and I knew there was white ones because my mother always uses then for balls. A-And I saw black roses at my grandmother's burial. May she rest in peace.....Wait." His brown eyes widened as he stared at her. Poppy blinked when he suddenly put his hands on her stand leaning forward a little. "H-HOW MANY COLORS OF ROSES ARE THERE?! I DESPERATELY NEED TO KNOW!!"

After a moment, the red head smiled and gestured to a whole slew of potted roses behind her he didn't seem to notice and his jaw dropped at the sight of them all. "Well, you sure like to learn things, so let me tell ya a thing or two about roses. There's all different breeds of roses, but all of them fall under one of the eleven color catagories ya hear? There's red, white, n black like you're used to seein'. But then there's yellow, blue, pink, purple, orange, and even green!"

His eyes landed to a beautiful batch of emerald green roses Poppy pointed out and his eyes widened more. "Those would be perfect for Vanessa! They match her emerald eyes so perfectly." He smiled and turned to Poppy. "I'd love to have some....But wait." He counted on his fingers. "Red, white, black, yellow, blue, pink, purple, green, orange-....That's only nine. I thought you said there was eleven."

She giggled. "You caught me! You see. Some are different shades of blue or pinks, but they'd still be classified under those colors, but some roses have two colors on them."

"You're KIDDING!"

"Nope!" Turning around. She spotted one of her hanging planters and reached up to pluck one of the ones near the top, carefully minding the thorns and brought it down to him. He stared at it in amazement. IT REALLY DID HAVE TWO COLORS!! It was a yellow rose but the tips of the petals were a dark pink, almost red as Poppy smiled at it. "This is what you call a Bi-Color pattern. Some breeds of roses have two colors like this. They're really popular at birthdays. But...If you want something real purty like." She set the single rose down and looked at him. "I got one more surprise for the history books."

"And what would that be?"

"Rainbow roses." He blinked confused so she held up a hand and bent down to rummage around under her stand. "I wanted to keep these hidden for the time being because I wanted to sell my over stock of other roses first since an unexpected amount bloomed this year. And you know how everyone's gonna be itchin' to buy their loved ones flowers on Cupid's Day. I wanted to sorta save these for special customers." She grabbed a small pot of something and stood up. Holding the pot just enough to be seen by him leaning over the stand and no one else passing by. His. Jaw. DROPPED. THEY WERE RAINBOW!!! Every color save for black and white was on there. All in different places on the petals and some petals being full different colors along with blended petals with two different colors mixed on them. They almost didn't look real. As if someone painted on them blindly with multiple paints. Poppy gazed at them lovingly. "My Great Great Granddaddy Willow 'Tree' Bloomington was able to cross breed all kinds of roses together until he made them. "

"I heard of him before. He used to be the Royal Gardener for the Old Owl King didn't he? They say the gardens were never more beautiful than when he was in charge."

She nodded but frowned. "That's right. That ol' birdbrain wanted my great great granddaddy to never share his masterpiece with anyone else. Wanted them all to himself, but that's like askin' an artist to not show off his art. So when he retired, he stole a few clippings and fled the country. Since then these beautiful little guys have been my family's birthright. We're extremely picky about who gets them...Or at least I am. Papa thinks I should've just stayed on the farm and become a milk maid like Mama." The prince's eyes softened at the small frown on her face but she was quick to smile again for an important customer. "So! Will it just be the one bouquet for ya, Princey? Or were ya'll still interested in those pretty green ones?" She asked as she tucked away the beautiful colorful ones again.

"I..." he glanced over to the emerald green ones then to the giant one he was already holding....And smiled again. "You know I think I will take another lovely arrangement of those too. Equal size."

Poppy smiled. "Coming right up, Your Highness!" In a few moments, she held out a pretty arrangement of green roses the shade of Vanessa's eyes all wrapped up in pretty white paper. "Two extra large bouquets will be eight pons please-" She paused and blinked when the white and red rose bouquet was held out to her and eight tiny green diamonds were dropped to the stand. "Oh. Do you need me to hold that?"

"N-No. T-they're for you."

"Me? Why? I thought you wanted to give Princess Vanessa double flowers."

"Uh.." He quickly gave a nervous smile. "W-W-Well, on Cupid's Day people give their friends and f-family too. It's all about spreading love to those you care about. It doesn't have to mean romanticism at all! Especially because I consider you a close friend!" He grinned wider nervously and wished he could push himself for how weird he must've looked. But Poppy just smiled.

"Well aren't you sweet?" She happily took the roses from him. "Now I can see why so many people like ya! And why Princess Vanessa took a likin' to ya! Such a gentleman to everyone! But are you sure you're not givin' me my own flowers?"

"Hey. I paid for them, so technically they were my flowers to do as I pleased with, and I w-wanted to show my appreciation to my.....f-friend."

"Aw. Ya'll just too kind. If that's the case, then you don't need to pay for mine."

He held up his hand and grabbed the green rose bouquet. "No, no. You did the hard work growing them. I ordered them in the first place. And they're already cut. The least I could do was pay the four pons for them. B-Besides. I don't believe in special treatment."

"Well alright. If ya insist. But here." She looked back down to the yellow n pink rose she had picked to show him and picked it up again, minding the thorns and holding it out to him. "Here! A small token from one friend to another too! On the house!"

He smiled and slowly took it from her. "Well then...Thank you, friend....I-I..Should probably be getting these to Vanessa."

"That's a fair point. Wouldn't want to keep her waiting on Cupid's Day. It's the most romantic day of the year!"

"Heh. Yeah....L-Love."

Sells really did increase after word of the prince buying her flowers went around. That day alone must've been her best Cupid's Day ever cuz right after he left with those green roses a woman came up to her and asked for five purple roses for her parents and sisters followed by others. She sold her normal quote for flowers that day plus lots of extras! She was able to get lots of work providing for small weddings in the town square, parties, and other festive times. All because of one friend's kindness. She felt guilty now that she only got so much business from his reputation but this time she'd have to really work for her dream! And she was totally going to be the best florist anyone's every had in a thousand years! For now she'd just rest a little while and help out with whatever that purple onion jack o lanturn had in mind, and wait to see what he was planning. She wasn't sure what to expect from a giant ghost but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious. Poppy made her way back out the kitchen's double doors after dipositing her third apple core into the trashcan in the corner, and the scene in the control room made her smile. The two girls were sitting on pillows a little ways from the television playing with the gold castle, it looked like a game of princess since Bow was making a princess doll scream help from the tower and Hattie was acting out the villain with that golden mafia man. The other old things like the gold pencil and cookie was all in a small random pile a few feet from them both.

"You will never have the princess! She'll be locked away forever and the kingdom of gold will be mine! Muahahaha!!," Hattie said in a fake deep man's voice.

"Oh yeah! Well I, Sir Cat-o-lot, will save her!," Bow threatened back holding out a small black cat plush. They must've heard her giggling when she came down cuz they both looked up at her as she came in and Bow waved at her. "Hi, Poppy! Wanna play?"

"Yeah! You can be the giant who comes and steals the gold up the apple tree in the sky!...Or was it a bush in the sky?"

"I'd love to, Pumpkins. But I still gotta job to do, don't you remember? I'd rather finish it and then relax a lil bit. There anywhere we missed?"

Hattie shook her head. "No. Rumbi already swept everywhere, the painting room was so small and easy. He's still sweeping the engine room."

"What about the mail room?,'' Bow asked pointing to the yellow tunnel entrance poking out from the wall near the engine room door. "It has junk mail all over the place after Mayor Mafia Glasses read through them all."

Mail room huh? Well she didn't know who this Mayor mafia ..glasses?? was, but if it was the last room she needed to clean then she might as well get it all done. Then she could finally relax for the day. Walking over the yellow entrance, the children went back to their little game giggling. Great. This entrance looked small too, she'd probably have to crawl through there as well and drag the broom behind her like last time. Leaning down, she peeked inside....And fell backwards with a yell. Both girls flinched and looked up at her loud yell as Poppy stumbled before landing on her behind at the sight of two yellow glowing eyes and mouth smiling at her from the darkness. A high pitched raspy laugh rang out and two clawed hands reached out to grab the outside of the yellow tunnel, before the darkness pulled himself out smiling and revealing himself to be non other than the famous snatching ghost himself. Poppy's scared and confused face quickly turned to one of anger as she scowled.

"I should have known!"

"AHAHAHAHA!! You should've seen how utterly scared you looked! That's a feeling I never get tired of seeing any day," he rasped out and looked down smiling at her as Poppy stood up and dusted herself off. Giving him a scowl.

"So is THIS one of the pranks I heard about? Y'know for 'the most powerful ghost on this measly planet' that sure wasn't very impressive."

"HEY!" He scowled back and crossed his arms. "There's NOTHING wrong with a classic hide and go boo routine! Works almost a hundred percent of the time! And you're one to talk about not impressive work." He jabbed a claw over at the watching girls. "Playing and walking around when there's work to be done? That's not productive at all."

"We're already finished."

".........WHAT?!" It took him a few moments to register what she said but when he did his head snapped to her so fast she was afraid it was going to float off and faze through the wall. "You couldn't have cleaned an entire ship in one day?!"

"Well, to be fair we aren't all the way done." She pointed behind him with a deadpanned look. " We're waiting for Rumbi. An' I still need to go fix up whatever's up there and I need to hammer a plank of wood back in place upstairs since we found gold buried under it. Now excuse me." Snatcher gave off a confused noise when Poppy just pushed his tail aside and went back to peer back up into the yellow tunnel. She could see a light and some kind of papers floating around everywhere. "Hey! One of yall get me the broom and somethin' to catch a bunch of flying paper." Bow nodded dropping her toys in favor of running off to the kitchen as Poppy turned back to the tunnel and started crawling her way up it towards the light.

"You found what under what?!" Snatcher turned back as Poppy disappeared into the yellow tunnel. "H-HEY! Don't you know it's rude to walk away from your boss when he's talking to you about your contractual obligations!?" When he didn't get an answer he stuck his head in the tunnel entrance. "Yes? No? HELLO!! Why aren't you saying anything?!"

"Y'know, for a dead guy you sure have a loud mouth!," she called back smiling when she heard him sputter.

"WHAT?! The peck I'm not! You're the one ignoring me!" He floated through the walls after her snorting form.

"Maybe so but I think your bark is worse than your bite, Purple Onion! What are you doing here anyways? I thought ya were busy." Her face popped up out of the entrance just in time for it to get smacked by a very old envelope, to which she shook her head and got it off to gawk around. Papers were flying around alright, they were laying all over the place if they were flying about or in a big pile on the other side of the room. In the middle of the room was a desk with two pans on it. One was green and said IN and the other was red and said OUT. There was also a few pole blocker things in front of the desk like the ones around those metal table things she'd been seeing around. A small coffee table stood off to one side of the room with two blue seated cushioned seats, near the entrance was two metal deviders and a giant wooden dresser, and to her far left was a giant basket filled with more old letters, a fan, and a pale carpet stood under the desk. She gazed up hearing a snicker and Snatcher was there probably because of the letter smacking her face. Before giving a grunt when a piece of paper smacked him in the pace making her snort again. "Not so funny yourself Mr. Meany."

He swiped the letter off his face scowling and staring at her. "HEY! I'm not completely heartless you know. Every so often I steal letters from others and deliver them to my minions as if they were getting something. It helps lift their spirits so to speak. And to answer your question." He threw the paper away which fluttered to the ground. "I often come back and check on new employee's progress every few hours or so, this is no different. But I have to say I'm suprised with how reliant you were for this tack."

"Well I did have the two best helpers in the world." She smiled and finally got to stand up in the room looking around with a hum. "This one might be a little tricky, but can't be worse than a room of snow. And I still have to hammer that bourd back. Bow tugged it loose after that gold."

"Where the peck did you all get the gold? Im pretty sure I don't pay you until after the job is done, as I'm not legally obligated to pay for unfinished work."

"From the Roach King."

"The Roach what?!"

"Ask them if ya'll want some answers." She turned hearing some footsteps behind her and smiled seeing Bow in the entrance to the yellow hallway. A broom and dustpan in one hand and a trashbag in the other. "Well, why thank you honeybunch!" She reached over hand out for them and Bow handed them over.

"I couldn't find any nets, so I thought you could use the bag to catch them?"

Poppy smiled standing back up and looking over to the mail floating around and sighed. "Actually I think we'll be needing a lot more bags if we want to clear all this mess out." She pointed towards the giant pile of letters along the wall. "That spinny thing there is propellin' these here letters up and then they're blown all 'round the room makin' a mess. We'll have to just get rid of all this junk."

Bow scratched her head. "How? I don't think they'll all fit in the trashcan."

Poppy smiled and looked up towards Snatcher who after staring a couple seconds back to her finally got a sense of what she was thinking. "HEY! Just a pecking second here! You're not pawning them off on me!"

"I'm not. You can just take 'em and give them all to those precious lil helpers of yours can't ya?"

"Well...Yes. But who are you to decide what I DO with my time?"

"Oh c'mon. it'll be so sweet of ya." Her big blue eyes shined at him as she smiled up towards him. "Won't ya just help a gal out with this just once? You're other uh...'employees' would really get a hoot from it too-"

"OH ALRIGHT!!" He turned his head away. Anymore staring at her smile and he'd start feeling mushy which he hated. "But I expect YOU to get them all ready to go for me! Since Im not legally obligated to help with cleaning."

Poppy eagerly agreed and sent Bow back to grab more bags from her as she got to work picking up a few of the letters scattered about on the floor at her feet. Snatcher having nothing else to do at the moment decided to leave the mail room and fazed through the wall back into the control room in time to see Bow slam open the kitchen doors and run in. At the sight of her ghostly BFF, Hattie sprung up and bounded up to him. Chattering about how much of a good helper she had been and how she was STILL a better helper cu technically she was still cleaning....Well really Rumbi was the one sweeping away at the engine room but she put him there in the first place. And then when his yellow eyes looked over at all the random gold objects laying in a pile, he pointed a claw and asked about it. Her face lit up even more and she went on a long spree about how she found these mysterious notes in her room and then Poppy found a whole bunch more while cleaning and then they followed them up all the way to the attic. And then Hattie went on to tell him about how Bow busted open a plank of wood from the side of the staircase in the attic and it turns out there was gold in it! Speaking of Bow, she had burst back out of the kitchen sometime during her ramble and dragged a good number of black trash bags behind her disappearing into the yellow entrance most likely going to delivery them to Poppy. In the mean time Hattie told him all about how this roach stole her gold potion and turned all this stuff and the gold potion itself into gold. Holding up the objects one by one up to him. The cookie, the gear, the potion, and her most proud posession the gold castle which she beamed with happiness eager to show it off to him. If he was anyone else he would've called her reaction cute, but all it got was a small half smile from the ghost before the hatted child had the brilliant idea he should come and see the notes for himself. Eh...Why the peck not right? He had literally nothing else better to do while waiting on the cleaning duo up there, and he was sure Minion Number 47 could run the place for a little while longer in his absence. She WAS head of the manor staff when she was alive so she'd have no trouble giving orders to lots of people on a tight scheduale. He saw the notes alright, and this mysterious Roach King they were all talking about. The gold roach statue sat ontop of the papers he apparently left out for them to follow and Snatcher couldn't help but read through them all not that the child seemed to mind at all. She left in the middle of him reading through them, saying something about needing to check up on Rumbi but he didn't care. He was honestly surprised at the letters addressed to the girls, having such kind words to say about them both, but they weren't wrong either. In fact they were very accurate to their positive nature, but if he could add a few things it'd be childish, sassy, and a whole bunch of other things to describe them then just having a gold heart. As they were much more than a gold heart, but hey. The guy turned himself into gold. What was he supposed to expect from him? Placing the notes and gold statue of the roach wearing a crown, he decided it was about time he headed back and see what was up. Imagine his slight surprise when he popped his head through a wall and saw what looked like a large round black ball stuck in the entrance to the slide. Which gave way a moment later and tumbled to the floor revealing itself to be a full trashbag and Hattie tumbling after it landing on her stomach with a thud. The hatted child pushed her self up pushing the comically large hat off her face and scowling at the bag. Snatcher could only watch in amuzement as she rolled it over towards four other full trashbags near the control panel.

"Sheesh, Kid. That's a lot of mail," he commented.

"There's three more bags," Hattie groaned before hanging her arms and stomping her way way towards the slide entrance as yet another bag was having a hard time exiting. Most likely by Bow shove it. "Cleaning is so BORING! Why do I gotta do it?"

"You're not the only one, Kid. And by the sound of things, you've never would've found that gold if you didn't clean up," He pointed out just as Bow popped her head out as the bag shot out.

"Yeah. But now we found it and now it's boring!," she whined back heading to the slide.

"Aren't that robot and Poppy the ones who've done most of the work?"

"WE HELPED!!"

"Then you should have no problem helping her with one last teensy tiny room." He glanced at Bow running back with a smile on her face. "By the looks of things you're practically done already."

Hattie groaned but followed Bow back up the slide towards the mail room, followed by Snatcher who fazed through the wall after them. "Anyone ever tell you, you work too hard for you're own good," he asked popping his head just above the slide exit.

Poppy chuckled wiping down the desk before looking over her shoulder at him. "Lots of times. But I aim to please, and I learnt a long time ago that hard work comes good rewards." She watched the two girls dragging the last two bags away and smiled. The mail room didn't have to be that clean to be honest. There was barely even any dirt on the ground. A quick sweep, bag the useless mail, wipe down these tables, and she even dumped those blocker rod things in the empty giant basket over there outta the way. "The place is mighty fine looking without paper smackin' your face. I didn't know aliens had a mail room...Well to be honest I didn't know they could have a painting room or anything else either."

Something about that sentence made Snatcher freeze for a moment and stare at her. " You...saw the paintings?"

"Well....No. But Hattie told me she already had the place swept so it's already taken care of ain't it?"

"Would you like to see it?," he asked a small feeling of excitement bubbling from his chest.

"I would  but I have the attic to fix don't I-" She jumped when Snatcher grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.

"That can wait! You're taking your once a day fifthteen minute break and coming with me. What's the point of living here if you don't see the entire complex?,'' he said with an almost cheery voice and looked down to the small girls pushing the last of the junk down the slide slowly. "Get good Kids! We have some real work to see!"

At one point, Hattie fed up with everything took a few steps back, before tackling the bags and Bow along with them. They all unstuck pretty quickly tumbling down into the control room with the kids landing all in one giant heap on the ground. Well ....That certainly did the trick didn't it? Snatcher seemed to be please as he tugged Poppy along and only stopped when she yanked her hand out of his grasp. He froze as she gave him a stern look for a couple seconds, before willingly going down the slide entrance herself. Oh if only he could punch himself for that. Poppy emerged a moment later in the control room and glanced up at Snatcher with narrowed eyes.

"I understand you're excited, but trying to yank me through a wall isn't an option. I would've bashed my head into that wall there!" Those yellow eyes glanced to the wall for a moment seeming to register what she was getting at. Oh. Right. Walls and humans don't really mix all too well huh? "Now don't you go doin' that again."

"Uh....Sure."

.....She gave a small smile again. "There. That wasn't too hard was it? Now whatcha going on about paintings for?"

"The painting room?" Hattie struggled out of the small pile her and Bow were in with protests from Bow but managed to squeeze out of there and up towards her dusting herself off and up to them. "I can show you! It's right by the engine room through the green do-"

"Whoa! Hey! That's MY thunder you're stealing kid!" A giant purple claw gently grabbed Hattie around the waist and pulled her back as the giant ghost leaned down to give her a look. "You have you're fun and now it's my shot. Don't be a rude little lady." Hattie gave a small pout and huff but didn't say anything else much to his delight as he put her down and patted the top of her hat before turning back to Poppy. "Well that seals that deal! Why don't we just go see those paintings?" he pointed towards the engine room door. "Trust me when I say this is the best part of the breaking experience."

"I reckon I don't have a say so to your looney persistance don't I?," she asked smiling at him but slowly followed behind none the less.

"NOPE!!"

A feeling of excitement welled up in him again as he smiled and shot through the wall faster than a bullet in one dark purple blur. Making her blink and shake her head. Well....She really ought to see the entirety of this ship then shouldn't she? One last room wasn't gonna hurt her. Leaving the girls to bicker over whatever little girls bickered over she followed right after the ghost through the tunnels. A moment later she saw himself sticking out of the walls of grinding gears above a green doorway and gestured for her to follow as he ducked back into the wall. And of course, she followed, side stepping Rumbi who was still sweeping around, wanting to see what he was so excited over. The hallway there was a little darker than the others but there was enough light for her to see that it also was littered with excellent gear designs but this time it was a very dark green. These aliens must be very rich to afford a weaver to make such excellent carpets. When the door opened on the other side oh boy she was in for another surprise.

"There you are!," Snatcher called from the ceiling below with a smile. That ghostly hair n fluff of his hanging down towards the floor as he grinned. "Took you long enough! Get in here and see what you've been missing!''

She did so and was thankful the room despite being small was big enough for her to stand in, it had red flooring and a green plain carpet running it's length. At one corner of the small room she saw yet another metal table thing with these 'relics' as Hattie had called them. This one was a UFO mobile and under it attached by strings were three cows that looked the same but were different. One wore glasses and a tin foil hat, one wore just green sunglasses, and the other one didn't wear anything and looked totally normal. But it wasn't that that caught the attention of the red head. PAINTINGS!! There were paintings of different sizes, lengths, and styles that she had never seen before. She gawked at the meer sight of them all looking at each wall slowly taking it all in. At the very back wall was the fist thing she saw when she crawled in and her eyes lazer pointed on the largest of the six paintings that were on it. Why..It was Hattie herself! She looked might sweet standing in a field holding her umbrella open, her yellow cap and hair blowing in the breeze. If she hadn't known better she thought the painting would've giggled at her funny expression. Next to that one was a city shrouded by night, the only lights coming from the windows on the tail buildings and the cresent moon painted under it. The one directly under it was a bit strange. It was the face of a gold tribal man on a grey background and he wore pure black glasses. How odd. The other three were realitively small compared to those three. One being a close up of a plant's green leaves, a baby crow leaning against a wall next to toy blocks, and a pretty forest landscape. She could see a few trees and mountains in the distance of it. Turning her head to the right, Poppy noticed the right wall had only five. The tiny rectangle one in the top corner of the right wall was a burly looking man riding on top of a ...giant slab of meat? Below that was a picture of Hattie's face. Well, four pictures of Hattie all looking alike but with different color pastels. The entire square painting was divided into four smaller squares and each one had a Hattie of a different color tone. How strange. Then there was a giant portrait of a man with a mustache and beard. He wore a red suit that looked quite expensive. And next to that was two others, one was a black background with nothing but red thorny vines painted on it, and the other was a bit more stranges. It was divided into three background colors (red, green, and yellow) and had a bubble with different items in each. One was a heart, another a giant green diamond, and what looked to be a small king's crown.

"What do you think of work?," Snatcher asked proudly crossing his arms and looking pleased with himself.

Poppy leaned to the right wall and gently laid her hand on the frame of the red suited man in wide eyed wonder....before turning to him. "YOU painted all of these?" she asked gawking at him.

His smile widened more smug if that was possible. "Yep. And those." He pointed to the left wall wear there was five giant paintings behind the space cow mobile. He then pointed behind her. "And the ones right behind you."

Poppy looked behind her and took a few steps back from the doorway she had crawled in from to look at the six painting hanging above the doorway. Two were big. One was of two burly men who looked exactly alike and they looked to be farming folk like her parents were, the other one was of the famous Snatcher himself, with some king of background she didn't recognize. Maybe a bridge? He was in the middle holding his face in what looked like a very shocked expression. The others weren't grand scale but interesting anyways. Three of them were again Hattie but one looked more like a sketch that had her with double arms and legs. How bizarre. The one of Hattie next to it was her from her shoulders up but wearing a strange mask. It was green and red with black polka dots. The one of Hattie above those two was a much more normal one. It was of Hattie sitting down with her hands in her lap and behind her was a BEAUTIFUL background of mountains, a wide lake, and forest. The last one in the corner was another strange one. It was the man in the red suit again sitting on a throne, and a whole bunch of the burly men who looked a like bowing to him as if he was a king.

"These are...A-AMAZING!!"

She looked over to the last wall which had the biggest paintings on it. The strangest one was also the biggest. What looked like some desert landscape with a single dead tree and melting hour glasses all over it. Above that was another one of you guessed it, Hattie. In outerspace wearing an astronaut suit and connected to her spaceship. She looked so cartoony and adorable! A red boat sailing alone on a stormy sea, she could almost smell the sea air. One of the smaller large ones was just a beige background and just Hattie umbrella painted on it. And the the very last one was an abstract orange portrait of some man wearing sunglasses and a flower shirt. Snatcher however was looking VERY pleased at all the praise he was getting stroking his already huge ego as the smiling red read looked back to him with a wide smile.

"I can't believe you painted all of these!"

"Well you better, Red. Because I'm taking full credit for what you see." He 'polished' his claws against his neck fluff and examined them. "I don't usually do it, but sometimes if I'm bored and don't have a new supply of books to read I'll start on one and work on it a bit at a time. One of my lesser known talents." He then pointed at the room around him. "Couldn't really have these in the forest. Too many ways they could be damaged, so here was more ideal."

"I can see why." She turned her gaze around the room again before giggling and giving him an almost smug look. "Ya'll must really adore that little girl. There's six paintins' with her sweet lil face on 'em. But strangely I see none with the other one."

He paused for a moment looking at her...before coughing and looking away embarrased. "Well. Yes. I'm proud of them. In a way.....But we learnt the hard way the kiddo was allergic to paint and she wasn't too fond of the idea of her being painted."

Poppy guessed he was referring to Bow and hummed. "Poor thing. I can understand how that feels. But still." Her smile became all the more loving to him. "You have acceptional talent for this king of stuff. I reckon now I can say I was abducted by aliens and saw paintings by ghost. Hehe!"

He felt a warm feeling bubble up at the giggle but he cleared his throat and looked away again crossing his arms. "A-Alright! W-Well I think your legal fifthteen minute break is over, Red. Didn't you have something else to do today?"

"OH RIGHT!! The attic. I wonder if that girl has a hammer and nails?"

"Pretty sure she does since she literally has everything around her-......" He stopped midway through his rant and stared at her. Or more acturrately the bottom of her dress with all the rips and hole in it and pointed it out to her. "What the peck happened to you?"

She blinked and looked down to where he was pointing. "Oh. This? I think I got it all ripped up crashlandin' through those trees."

"You look like a homeless maid wearing that." He grunt and rolled his eyes. "Guess I'll have to fix that too."

Her red brow rose in surprise. "You sew too?"

"Of course I can! I made the kids all those clothes and my minions their highly durable bodies." His hand proudly pointed to himself. "I happen to be a powerful being with unlimited hidden talents." ..........Poppy's face suddenly turned into one of amuzement and she snorted again hand shooting to her mouth while the other went to her gut to try and hide the laughter. Which Snatcher flabbergasterdly got angry at. "WHAT'S WITH THAT LAUGHING!? WHAT?! YOU DON'T THINK MEN CAN SEW!? THAT'S LOW COMING FROM YOU!!" She snorted again sounding like a pig doubling over a bit and smiling wider behind her hand making Snatcher give a small growl. "HEY!! DON'T LAUGH AT ME YOU DOTTED FACE!! IM THE SNATCHER!! KING OF SUBCON AND TAKER OF SOULS!!"

She snorted again and in a strained voice said. "Oh yes. *Wheeze* T-The great and horrible monster ghost. Daddy of aliens, Painter of...HMHM! HAHA!! D-Daughters. And tailor of dresses."

Snatcher let out the biggest flustered peacock sqawk she'd ever heard and she lost it. Doubling over onto her knees, both hands gripping her sides as she leaned over and laughed hard, snorting a few times. Snatcher's cheeks lit up with a bright yellow flush and his fluff floofed out of embarrassment as he just kinda sputtered and stared at the laughing woman on the floor at a loss for words. Eventually forcing something out.

"OH YEAH!! W-WELL YOU LOOK LIKE A POOR MAID!! JUST-.....GO CHANGE OUTTA THAT RUINED DRESS BY THE TIME I LEAVE IF YOU WANT IT FIXED!! A-AND GO FIX THAT STUPID ATTIC AS PUNISHMENT!!"

He dissappeared back up into the ceiling leaving the wheezing and laughing woman hugging her sides through her laughing fit. Coughing when she couldn't get enough air. Oh boy. Was he gonna be sour for a while.

[evermorehaikyuu]

Day 4

Title: The Mirrored Truth

Note: This one’s later than usual, I am sorry about that. I kind of changed the summary a bit because I realized it didn’t quite match with this but anyways, let’s get started.

˜”*°•.˜”*°•.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

There was not a lot that could be said. The only thing that could actually be said was that the rumors surrounding Yuji Terushima were lies. Just from his looks, people could deduce that he was not the type of person to settle on one person, but go from girl to girl, leaving the previous one crying in the dust. People could forgive him, he was a pretty boy.

Everyone said he was a heartbreaker.

He wasn’t a heartbreaker though, he didn’t even have a girlfriend that he could “cheat” on. Even if he did have a girlfriend, his eyes would only be on her and no one else. There was no way in his near future that he’d make her cry or look at anyone else the way he would look at her. 

Rumors hurt, especially when assumptions were made that you were only a player, not intelligent at all. Terushima had to deal with this every single day and while it wounded him, he kept his head up high and fulfilled his duty as the captain of the Johzenji volleyball team. 

It was because of all this that he got attached to whoever he thought accepted him wholly. It was one of his flaws. In this world, you weren’t supposed to be attached to someone out of fear that something would happen to them.

But there was someone that stayed by his side all the time, no matter what. They had been together since their first year and never had she once strayed from his side, not even when the rumors started floating around about him.

They had met in their advanced class, him staring out of the window, not paying much attention as he already knew the subject. However, that day was different. On that day, he was introduced to the person he’d grow extremely attached to but would ruin what they had later on.

The day was currently cloudy, a possible chance of rain coming from above. All he could do was stare at the window, daydreaming about anything and everything as he heard the teacher drawl on and on about a subject. It was history, it was something he had read out of his own fun. He didn’t like the subject as much as he liked volleyball. Yet because of the books he had picked up, he was able to answer any questions the teacher asked before resuming back into his original position of staring outside of the window.

It was the same drill everyday. No one in the class really talked to him and he’d like to talk to some of them, but as it was an advanced class and everyone was there only talked when it came to the work, nothing about hobbies or different topics. It was all really dull. 

“...I will now pair you up with someone else. You will explain to me why this all happened by making a presentation and a speech and I expect for the work to be divided evenly amongst both of you.” The teacher started naming who would be paired up with who until Terushima’s name came up. That’s when he looked away from the window and paid attention to the next words.

“Terushima, you will be paired up with Y/N.”

Y/N was extremely bright, albeit quiet. She was the pride and gem of the school, an absolute treasure and incredibly intelligent for her age. They couldn’t move her to a higher class because it would not bring balance to the school, so they settled for the highest class they could put her in. Along with Terushima, they would make an incredible duo.

Only...how in the heavens was he supposed to talk to someone like her? She was the only person that made him nervous, just from her reputation and placid expression.

Y/N walked over to him and placed a piece of paper down in front of him silently before walking out to head to her next class. He opened the tiny white sheet and read what it said:

Here’s my number. Text me, we’ll meet at my place after school. Xxx-xxxx-xxxx

Maybe it was easier than he thought.

~ 

“Wait, so you’re telling me all this time I was wrong?” Terushima exclaimed, looking down at their notes.

“I guess you were daydreaming, weren’t you?” Y/N said, untroubled before reaching over to pluck the pen out of his hands and circling something on the paper in between them. “Okay, so here’s the plan, you take the speech, I’ll do the presentation, I’m faster and you’re good at writing speeches and executing them.” She started brainstorming, tapping her pencil on her upper lip.

He turned his face towards her, a little smile on his face. “You’ve noticed?”

“How could I not notice the boy who has a ton of rumors swirling around him but in reality is a massive nerd about certain subjects?” She let out the first grin of the day, turning towards him. “You know, I think we’ll get along splendidly. Let’s get to work.”

Small talk ensued as they worked, comfortable silence falling when they were too focused on their work. The other would usually bring up a question and it wasn’t until Y/N laughed about something that Terushima said that he realized he could actually be himself around her. He did not need to be terrified of her, she was sweet and she was smart, but knew how to take a break and take a joke or two.

Yeah….I think we will get along, he thought, his chest warming at the thought of having a genuine friend that looked past him.

~

“Did you see our grade?! We got extra credit, you did amazing, Terushima!” Y/N’s eyes were lit up and her usually subdued expression was gone as her lips were upturned, grinning at him for the work that they both did. The project was flawless, executed properly, making them a powerful duo. 

Reciprocating that smile, he rubbed the back of his neck, saying, “You did great too, Y/N, I don’t think we would’ve gotten that grade without you.”

She got so excited she quickly wrapped her arms around him and bounded off, heading to lunch and leaving him shocked.

That was the start of a blooming friendship between them.

~

From that day on, they confided in each other, sharing inside jokes and slowly, Terushima helped Y/N out of her shyness. It was from that day on that Y/N was seen as Terushima’s best friend and possibly something more.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, you’re my best friend, I’m not going anywhere.” She sneaked one of his chips into her mouth, wiping her lips with a napkin. “They’re just assuming.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t. You promise not to go anywhere?”

“I swear.”

~

Their second year was a rush. They were now in class 7, the most advanced class they could take and the rigor was still there, but poured on. Yet together and supporting each other, they knew they could take it.

However, something was going on by the time they had hit their second semester. Terushima was a hopeless romantic once he got attached and he did not know that until he got attached to Y/N L/N. 

Every laugh, every smile, every tease, everything about her made him fall further and further for her until he couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted her to be his and him to be hers, but he didn’t know how to go about that. Days turned into weeks until he couldn’t take it anymore.

With the help of Bobata and Futamata, he made a plan to confess to Y/N after school. It was risky and maybe it was too quick, but it was all or nothing.

“And you’re sure this’ll work, Bobata?” Terushima asked nervously.

“Yes it will, girls love flowers. Unless they have allergies. If Y/N has allergies, sorry, can’t help you there.”  Bobata replied, making Futamata laugh. They patted his shoulder when they saw Y/N coming and they left.

“Hey, Terus--why do you have so many flowers?” Y/N asked, eyeing the bouquet in his hands.

“They’re...for you…” Terushima swallowed and pushed them into her hands, his ears glowing pink.

“What’s the occasion? Is it the anniversary of the egg incident?” She joked until she saw his face, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re not for that. It’s just that I...may have feelings for you and I’ve been having them since this year basically. It’s just that you’re incredible and wonderful and everything about you is literally amazing, I--”

Her heart dropped to her knees. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This time was supposed to be different. There was no way he had fallen for her. This was the reason she stayed quiet and to herself all of those years. She didn’t want the situation to come to this. She only wanted a friend, someone she could confide and laugh with. Not this. She held her hand up, her other hand gripping the stems of the bouquet. “Let me stop you right there. You have feelings for me?”

To Terushima, it seemed like she was in disbelief so he grinned brightly at her. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I--”

She looked at the floor, the bouquet dropping to her side. “Terushima...this...why? Why would you do something like this?” She stared at him, her arms numb and her brain going haywire. “I never wanted you. I-I trusted you! I thought you were different! All I wanted was a friend, not this again!”

That’s when he knew he messed up. His shoulders dropped as he stared at her. “Wait...you don’t feel the same way?”

Swallowing was a natural thing but she felt like she would choke if she swallowed, trying to hold onto reality. “No. I don’t feel the same way. I just saw you as a friend, nothing else.”

His heart was ice and it had just shattered to pieces. She didn’t feel the same way for him. He had just ruined everything between them. Once there was a confession between a friendship and the feeling wasn’t mutual, everything went downhill. “So...you don’t like me?”

“Not like that! The only thing I wanted was you to be someone I could trust and confide in! You’ve gotta be kidding me. I really thought you were different from what they said.” She chuckled, but it wasn’t amused, it was dark. “Just...take them.” She shoved the flowers back into his arms, staring up at him. 

“Y/N, please…”

“Don’t come after me. I’m not getting hurt again. Not by you, not by anyone. I should have said something that day.” Her eyes were glossed over as she stared at him, making him hurt because he swore that he would never cause her to cry.

The only reason she was crying was because she didn’t want him romantically and now she had no one, no one to trust, no one to go to. She was less than the other girls, but every guy she had become friends with had always wanted something more from her. Growing up alone was her main attribute. And now, when she had given a guy another chance, it backfired on her. 

Turning around, she mumbled, “Give them to a girl you actually like and likes you back.” With that, she left him and walked away.

Terushima’s head hung and the flowers dropped to his side. The bouquet fell to the floor, its contents pooling out as petals started scattering everywhere. Of course. She didn’t want him as something further. It was just him again. He shouldn’t have done something so big.

He lost the person he could share secrets with, all because of his reckless confidence.

The sky overhead turned dark and soon started rumbling as rain started falling down slowly, before steadily turning from a sprinkle to a drizzle.

Terushima started walking back home with heartache. Rejection hurt but it was from someone he trusted with his whole life. He only wanted to say what he actually felt to someone that actually cared for him and he messed up. Once he got home, he got into bed, curling up on his side as he stared at the wall. He closed his eyes, trying to blink the tears away.

They weren’t tears of being abandoned again.

They were tears of loss.

Along with losing his best friend, he lost a piece of his heart. He’d close up again. He wouldn’t let anyone in. His tears started falling freely as he tried to stifle his cries into his pillow, choked sobs rising from his throat as he replayed the scene over and over in his head. 

He lost what he never wanted to lose. He lost a part of himself. He lost her.

Both promises. Now broken.

~

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[zodiyack]

Happiness

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader

Warning: Swearing, fluff, mention of cheating (not Tommy), two sexual references, violence, alcohol, cigarettes, lyrics, me not proofreading

Words: 5279

Song: Happiness by Rex Orange County

Note: Lyrics = Bold + Italic | Memories = Italic

masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

I'll be the one that stays 'til the end. And I'll be the one that needs you again

When Tommy met Y/n, she was a sad one. Her heart had been broken too many times. Being cheated on many times by one person affected her trust, but being cheated on many times by one person and then being cheated on by another person ruined her trust all completely. Tommy asked her out, she said that she didn’t know him well enough, he asked her to talk to him so they could get to know each other, she said “doesn’t work that way” and walked off.

She really grabbed Tommy’s interest. Even if she didn’t mean to, Tommy was now caught like a fish in Y/n’s fishing rod of love, and Tommy refused to let go, no matter what plants they got stuck in. One day, after weeks of him bothering her and begging her, he managed to finally ask her out successfully. They hung out and talked almost every day, so he took her to a surprise spot. The blindfold came off and a picnic blanket and basket were revealed. That date had went well, in fact it’s one of Y/n’s favorite memories.

The two twirled around in the now messed up blanket. Giggles escaped Y/n’s mouth as Tommy tickled her and wiped frosting onto her face. She squealed as a sign that she yielded.

“Alright love, sorry if I was too-”

The yield however, wasn’t the kind of yield he thought it was. She took the chance while he was distracted and pushed him down, straddling him to wipe some of the frosting on his skin. Their giggles that had stopped after Y/n pleaded now continued. Kisses were placed on Tommy’s face, some of them leaving frosting behind.

This went on for a while, the flirting and messing around seemed funnier and funnier. Tommy, a serious and intimidating man, was being goofy and genuinely chuckling. This didn’t happen a lot, so Y/n made note to find ways to cheer up the Shelby boy.

A year later, after many many dates, Y/n and Tommy had a conversation that would change their lives. In a good way of course, but it seriously meant a lot to them. “Y/n. Can I promise you something?” They were lying on a blanket

“If you can keep it.”

“Well, I promise you I’ll stay here...forever. Until you die or until I die. The point is, I promise to love you forever, and if we end up splitting, I’ll still be here as a friend, whenever you need me.”

“Thomas Shelby. I promise the exact same thing, but let me add one tiny detail.”

“Yes?”

“I promise to be here as I am currently, and if you need me just tell me. I’ll be here to support you and comfort you as your friend, as your lover, and as your wife.”

“Wife?”

“You’ve thought of getting married haven’t you?”

“Yes heh...but I just didn’t think you’d agree. I love you Y/n M/n L/n.”

“I love you too Thomas Michael Shelby.”

Now, they had been together for nine years. Tommy left for war two years after they got together. He had kissed her passionately at the train station, telling her that he loved her and would write to her. She promised the same to him and stayed there until he left, then leaving to go to the Shelby house, resting on Tommy’s bed and writing a letter to him right away.

When he came back, he wasn’t the innocent boy Y/n knew. But she also wasn’t the innocent woman he knew. They both had changed, and they both loved it. Y/n stayed loyal while Tommy was gone, she wrote to him and his brothers every day, even telling Tommy of the people who flirted with her or greeted her. She missed him and he missed her. His now protective and serious attitude fit well with her cautious and quick-but-good thinking one. Their sweet and innocent personas still existed, but only for each other to see.

Neither of them had broken their promises. And neither of them had broken the other’s heart.

And I'll be the one that proposes in a garden of roses, And truly loves you long after our curtain closes... But will you still love me when nobody wants me around, When I turn eighty-one and forget things will you still be proud?

The year 1921 and Y/n bear a slightly raised belly. She was pregnant, but it didn’t show much. Y/n and Tommy’s relationship was stronger than ever, their love for each other quite obvious. However, Y/n was slightly upset over one thing. Marriage.

Tommy impregnated her, yet still hadn’t done anything to prove that he wanted her to be his forever like he said he did when they were younger. Y/n was ready. She had been ready ever since he came back from the war. To be honest, she was half expecting him to drop on his knee right there...but he didn’t.

Her train of thought crashed when footsteps sounded down the hall.

“Y/n! Y/n!” A 13 year old Finn called out. “There’s something you need to see!”

The small boy took off outside, leaving Y/n to trip over her own feat and try her best to follow him. He led her to a garden like place, although, the only thing growing was the red flowers that symbolized romance. Roses.

‘When did they have the time to grow this?!’ thought Y/n. Just yesterday she had came out back and this was never here.

“Y/n L/n.” Y/n’s attention turned to Tommy, he was on his knee on a pile of rose pedals by the other roses. “You have been my best friend as well as lover for a long time. Nine years I have been loved by you, twelve I have loved you, and fourteen I have known you. I fell in love with you when I was only 19. You fell in love with me when I was 22. Your eyes and your smile lit up my day, your laugh and your voice made my heart skip a beat, there’s so much more. You now are bearing my child and I would do anything for you and them. I vow to protect you both with my life, to love you and put you before anything and everything-”

“I’m just gonna guess ‘except for work’?” Y/n was smiling and crying, and she laughed when Tommy shrugged and did a small nod.

“Sometimes. Anyways, I hope you know that I love you more than life itself. I keep my promise from 1913. Do remember it?” She nodded, thinking back to her dates and secret meet-ups with him. “Well, as I said, I haven’t broken that promise yet and I don’t plan on breaking it. I will love you now, then, and forever. When you die or when you change, I will still love you. If you regret being with me, I will still love you.” He stopped talking for a moment. A tear ran down his face as his thoughts filled his head.

Y/n walked closer to him, running a hand through his hair and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “What’s wrong honey?”

Tommy inhaled and closed his eyes, he took and held her hands for dear life. “You already know that some people don’t quite like the Shelby name. Well... would you still love me when absolutely everyone wants us gone? Would you still want to be a Shelby? A- And when we grow old...and forget things... do you think we’ll be proud of ourselves? Of each other? Do you think we’d remember our great moments?”

“Tommy Shelby. I love you so so much, you honestly have no idea. I would never be ashamed nor disgusted by the thought of being a Shelby. Fuck what the people think. And for your last question Tommy, I think we’ll be really fucking proud of ourselves. We can’t forget our love since it’ll continue to exist.”

Thomas smiled and nodded. Y/n had a point. He took a box out of his trousers and opened it to Y/n. “Would you do me the honor of being my present and my future, of being my happiness, of being my wife, of becoming Mrs. Shelby?”

“I do! I do, I do!” She let the tears run down her face with a smile as Tommy slid the ring onto her finger. As soon as he stood up, she jumped onto him and connected their lips with burning passion.

'Cause I am the one that's waited this long. And I am the one that might get it wrong, And I'll be the one that will love you the way I'm supposed to, girl

The day of their wedding came. 1922, after Charles Shelby had been born and alive for at least 5 months. Y/n’s dress was beautiful. She was beautiful. Tommy swore up and down that Y/n was breathtaking with and without clothing. He said she made his heart beat faster whenever she was around.

Y/n was smoothing down her dress and looking at herself in the mirror. The maids who were helping dress her and fix up her hair had left her to be alone for a bit but left the door open a crack. That was their mistake. The door creaked open a bit, a tiny Charlie in a cute little suit crawled in.

“How’d you get here? Well, my love, you can’t be in here, so I’ll have to find one of your uncles or Daddy’s friends to take you back to Daddy. Come on little man.” She picked him up and leaned out the door slightly. No one was in sight, and the sound of talking came from outside the building. “God damn it. Come one Charlie, let’s go find someone before your Daddy comes inside and sees me.”

She wandered around, attempting to search for anyone but her fiancé whilst entertaining Charlie. Y/n rounded the corner, eyes widening to find Tommy, John and Arthur chatting amongst themselves against the wall.

“Poppa!” Charlie giggled and pointed his finger at the three men. They stopped talking and turned their heads over to where Y/n was. Luckily, she moved in time, but unluckily, the boys had already noticed the noise. Y/n heard them pull out their guns.

“Wait! Don’t come around the corner, put your guns away and make sure Tommy doesn’t come over here. John, will you come over here and get Charlie?”

“Bloody hell Y/n! Scared us half to death!”

“What’re you doin’ out of the room Y/n?” Tommy seemed curious and worried, he knew of the time limit that was gifted to Y/n. With his knowledge came his protectiveness. Anyone could get her while she was unattended, hence him and his brothers staying near the room.

“Charlie got into my room so I was gonna find either John or-” John took Charlie from Y/n and whispered a compliment about how pretty she looked. She said a quick thank you before continuing, “or Arthur so that they could take Charlie. I didn’t realize you guys would be out here all together.”

“Oh...well please just call for us next time, never know what’s gonna happen when so many people dislike the Shelby name. You’re lucky Charlie called out, I would’ve been upset if anything happened to you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to me...wait...” His voice was a lot closer, and she was leaning against the corner of the wall, keeping her dress out of sight. “Are you right next to me?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Hmm...Let me come right back.” Y/n went back into the room, peaking up the biggest cloth she could find. She wrapped it around her figure and walked out to Tommy. “Now you can’t see my dress, so it’s not bad luck.”

“I don’t believe in that bad luck thing with the dress.”

“Eh, I do. Now shut up and kiss me.” Their lips connected and the fiery passion filled their kiss and it grew intense, he put his hand on the back of Y/n’s neck. Realizing where they were, Tommy pulled away, winking and walking back to his brothers. He stopped halfway and turned to Y/n a final time.

“Y/n. I promise you, I may not be the best man, nor the best man for you to love. I might turn into a bad husband, or just be a bad husband, but I swear, I will love you the way I should. I will treat you like the queen you are, I will care for you and I will never break your heart.”

The Shelby boys, not including Finn, walked back outside. Tommy left Y/n with a smile on her face and a blush on her cheeks. She couldn’t wait until she would be known as “Mrs. Shelby.”

. . .

The priest was talking, but Tommy and Y/n couldn’t hear him. They were whispering out of the sides of their mouths. It felt like it was just them in the room. No one else, just them.

“I’ve waited forever for this moment, ya know?” Tommy whispered subtly.

“Oh sure. You waited nine years to ask my to marry you. You totally wanted it more than I did.”

“Oh hush, I was taking my time...for...reasons I guess.”

“Sure, whatever. You’re lucky you’re cute.” Y/n turned her attention to the priest so that he could distract her from laughing aloud.

It had all gone so fast, the couple being distracted with each other or with trying to not giggle at each other. The smile on Tommy’s face was so big, you would never think that he was really the leader of the Peaky Blinders, or you would and you’d just think he’d gone soft. His smile matched the one on Y/n’s face.

“You may kiss the bride”

They turned towards each other. Tommy smiled sweetly at his newly dubbed wife, he took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. Y/n grabbed his hand and pulled away, smiling widely again once they both opened their eyes. His beautiful ocean eyes were sparkling.

But will you still love me when nobody wants me around, around? When I turn eighty-one and forget things, will you still be proud?

Tommy kissed Y/n before she sat down. They were at the Garrison with the rest of the Shelbys...not including Finn. Anyways, an angry drunk walked over to the Shelby family. He had a disgusted look on his face, remains of food in his beard, and the smell of too much alcohol clouding around him.

Y/n and Ada’s face scrunched with slight disgust. He looked at Y/n in a way that made Tommy want to grab the back of his neck and slam his face into the table.

“Excuse me sir, could you please leave?” Y/n’s voice put Tommy at ease. She rubbed his arm while she gave her best attempt at shooing the man.

“I won’t take orders from a whore!” The drunk man itched his head. He seemed to be thinking but obviously was done when he spoke again, “How about this. You come with me, give me a good fuck, I’ll leave you alone.”

This agitated Tommy beyond Y/n’s repair. She couldn’t whisper her way out of this one. With one look from Tommy, the rest of the Shelby boys rose up from their seats and pointed their guns at the man. Thomas’ face looked dark and empty, all emotion wiped clean except for jealousy and vengeance.

“Listen here. Talk to my wife like that again, and you will be blinded by order of the Peaky fucking Blinders!” Y/n had never seen Tommy act this way before. He was red in the face, spit was flying out of his mouth when he spoke. The attention of the bar, not that there were many people currently, was directed towards the group.

Tommy connected his fist with the man’s jaw. The two men continued fighting, yet as flattered and in awe Y/n was, she couldn’t watch the violence. It wasn’t the violence itself, it was her need to yack and the excitement only making it worse.

Y/n was only 3 months pregnant, almost two years since their wedding. Polly and Ada knew of this, of course, and were quick to rush to Y/n’s aid and bring her outside. The fight went on as Y/n relieved her stomach through her throat. Rather nasty, but when you gotta do it, you gotta do it.

She decided to stay outside, not wanting to get involved with any more violence for the night. Ada brushed her fingers through Y/n’s hair and whispered softly to her. Pol tried to do the same, giving up half way through and pulling out a cigarette and walking away from the two girls.

“Y/n! Are you alright!” Tommy pushed through the front doors of the Garrison. Blood was leaking down his nose, his hair and shirt were disheveled, his fists were bloody and bruised.

“You didn’t use your hat did you?”

“Nah...it’s been a bit since I’ve used my actual fists. Felt nice.” He swapped places with Ada and smiled at his wife. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

A blush filled Y/n’s cheeks. “T- thank you... Um... Tommy?”

“Yes?”

“What happened in there? After I left?”

“Well...He started insulting us, insulting you and insulting our family. He was crazy enough to do it right in front of us! I did what any Shelby would do and protected the family name and honor.”

“Thomas, please tell me you didn’t-”

“No. I didn’t kill him. I wanted to, but I know that murder would have to have a good reason behind it... Are you mad at me? All of these people hate me, some even want me dead... do you feel the same way now?”

Tommy looked down, his eyes were watery and tired. It had been a long night, Thomas and the other boys were drunk and the ladies were the only ones sober enough to do anything. Although, they do say that a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts.

“Tommy... I could never hate you or be mad at you just because other people feel that way. Fuck what the people think. I’m here, I’m your wife, I don’t care about what others think. All that is important is that I love you Thomas Michael Shelby.”

“I- ...I love you too Y/n M/n- hiccup Shelby.” The drowsiness and the “hics” were already starting to show. Y/n let out a small giggle at her man-child and helped him steady himself before walking him home. It’s safe to say that when they got home, Y/n and Tommy had the best sleep they’d ever had in their entire lives.

Proud of me and my short list of accomplishments, say, And me and my lack of new news. Me and my selfishness, oh me and myself, Wish you nothing but a happy new version of you

‘It’s or god damn anniversary. What the fuck am I going to get her?’ Thoughts like these filled Tommy’s head. Indeed, it was their anniversary and he did have nothing to give her. She was always so creative with her gifts.

A portrait of him, a new pair of knickers (A/N BACK THEN, THOSE WERE WHAT SOCKS WERE CALLED SO SHH) that were specially made for him, and some nice other stuff. Sometimes she even got her brothers-in-law or Charlie to help out. Her plans could never be foiled but they could certainly interrupt Tommy’s.

He gave up and sat down at his desk. There was still one more thing he could do. “Charles? Charlie, could you come here for a moment?” In rushed the little boy that resembled the Peaky leader.

“Yes dad?”

“I need your help. Do you have any ideas of a gift your mummy might like?”

Charlie thought for a moment before looking up at his father slowly and nodding. He ran off and out of the room, returning with a paper and pen. He handed them to his father and skipped too the doorway.

“Wait. Why would you mother want my to draw something?”

“No dad. Write something. Write about her.” Charlie finished off his help with a smile and continued skipping back to his mum. Y/n was still pregnant, only 8 months into said pregnancy. She was quite excited, so were Tommy and Charlie. A new addition to their small family.

Tommy sat down with the tools he was given. He rubbed his temples with confusion and thought. As he touched the pen to the page, he let his thoughts and emotions take control. Whoever knew Thomas Shelby was full of such beautiful poetry?

He finished writing and trifolded the paper with a large grin on his face. How did he not think of this? The idea was brilliant. No, his son and the idea were brilliant. The paper in his hands came from his heart as well as his child’s mind. A true gift made of genuine love.

The time came for the couple to hand each other their gifts. Tommy had received a photo album of their family so far, and a small portrait of them Y/n had made for Tommy’s desk. She tilted her head at the small paper she was handed, the smile Tommy loved appearing on her face when she noticed his familiar handwriting. She read it aloud after Charlie complained over and over again that he wanted to know what it said.

“My dearest Y/n, I know that we’re married now, and parents, so you must now at least a tiny sum of how much I love you, right? You stole my heart as soon as you were in my line of sight, I belonged to you right then and there, I just didn’t know it until two years later. It took me those two years to find out just how much I wanted you and how much I needed you.

I know it would be dramatic to say that I needed you, but it’s true. I was a 17 year old boy, not wise in the slightest and certainly not charming. When you confessed your love to me, I was 19, but you made my world seem brighter. I swear, my heart started to beat faster and faster.

We were only children. Okay so maybe not only children, but still, so young but so deeply in love. When I left for war, I missed you every second. My heart reminded me that you were one of the things I was fighting for. It reminded me that I needed to come home to find you and let you know that I wanted to marry you and make you mine forever. Unfortunately, I grew insecure with the marriage part.

I had feared that I wasn’t enough. I’m a Peaky fucking Binder for fucks sake! I didn’t do much in my life except for steal your heart and fight for my country. Why on earth would you love me? I was also a selfish man. Wanting your attention 98% of the time, and I still do, I’m selfish and there’s nothing else I can tell you.

You probably might just hate me and act like you don’t since you’re married to me and have a child with me....but what I really want you to know is that I love you more than life itself. I love you more than the stars, I love you and your insecurities. I love all of you, Y/n M/n Shelby.” 

She finished reading it with puffy eyes and a cracked voice. Her heart couldn’t handle it, Tommy’s words filled her with joy and a sweet melancholy feel. It wasn’t the sad kind, it was more of happy and hurt for him.

Because I, I mmm, mmm, yeah, I want you to tell me you find it hard to be yourself so I can say, "It's gonna be alright"

And I want you to love me the way you love your family, The way you love to show me what it's like...To be happy

"Y/n? What has you so worried? It’s almost time to go.”

“Exactly.” Thomas gave his wife a confused look, sitting down beside her and rubbing her back softly. “Well ya know...we’re going to meet my parents.”

“And? I already knew of that Y/n, that’s why I said it’s almost time to go. What’s really wrong? You can tell my, my love.”

“My parents. I- I’m scared that... that they won’t approve of you or the kids. I’m scared that I’ll have to put on a fake persona all over again. It’s just so scary and so hard...”

Tommy leaned on his wife’s shoulder. It was often that she got scared about this. It had been scheduled for about a month now. Ruby and Charlie’s grandmother heard of them and the couple’s marriage, she demanded that her and her husband meet the kids and the “lucky man.”

“It’ll be alright, we’re a family, family sticks together. I love you so so so much Y/n. You have no idea.”

“Mhm. Last night said otherwise.”

“I love you more than that!” He tickled her sides until she was begging for him to stop, laughter and playful cries for help filled the room. They pressed their lips together once they had calmed.

. . .

“Mom. Dad. This, is Thomas, but you can call him Tommy.” Y/f/n shook Tommy’s hand and watched as Tommy pressed a soft kiss to Y/m/n’s hand. He wrapped his arm around Y/n once more before they introduced their children to the Y/l/ns. “This is my son, Charles, and my daughter, Ruby. Although, Charles says he prefers being called Charlie.”

Her mother and father smiled at the family opposite to them. “Welcome home!”

Y/m/n and Y/f/n led Charlie and Ruby to the kitchen for some treats as Y/n and Tommy took off their coats. Tommy didn’t feel like Y/n had explained her family in full detail. Confusion clouded his brain. He brushed it off, seeing as it was a normal thing for grandparents to spoil their grandchildren with treats and candy.

A younger looking woman walked down the stairs with an even younger looking boy. They both looked like Y/n, so Tommy guessed right away that they were either siblings or cousins. Both hugged Y/n and stopped to talk to her.

“Oh! Guys, meet my husband, Tommy! Charlie and Ruby are both in the kitchen with mom and dad. Tommy, these are my little siblings.”

“Nice to meet you Tommy, I’m y/b/n.” The boy spoke. He shook hands with Tommy and walked into the kitchen. The girl greeted him next, “Hello! I’m Y/s/n. Thank you for loving and taking care of my sister. I apologize about Y/b/n, he can be very...shy.”

“That’s fine, I understand his trust issues. I wouldn’t trust a man Ada brought home if I’d never met him fully.”

“Ada? Is she the sister I’ve heard about?” Tommy didn’t know what she meant, but nodded at Y/s/n. She smiled and grabbed Y/n’s hand. “Y/n sent me letters about you guys and your family, she loves you a lot, ya know?”

Before Tommy could respond, Y/n was pushing Y/s/n to the kitchen. “Oookay that’s enough talking for you two. Mom, is dinner ready yet?”

“Yes dear. Everyone, come sit!”

The dinner table was clothed in a cute table cloth, plates of food and glasses of drinks decorated the top of it. Lively conversation started, smiles and laughs galore. It wasn’t something Tommy was really used to. The kids seemed to be enjoying it, so he was somewhat relaxed.

They passed food to each other, Charlie and Ruby earning winks when they asked if they could have a little bit more of something. When Tommy bit into his food, he smiled. It tasted amazing. This was a new environment for him. Laughter and hugs everywhere.

“Thank you Mrs. Y/l/n. This is very good.”

“Aw! You’re welcome Tommy, and please, feel free to call me mom or Y/m/n!”

The rest of the night was spend like that. No hatred, no mention of crime, no work, no anger. Just family, love and support. Tommy decided that it felt nice and that it was a little better than dinner with his family. He loved his family, but he had never seen a family love each other this much.

Y/n and Tommy were given a guest room to stay in for the night. Their children were sleeping in Y/n’s old room. A sigh of relief from the long day left Tommy’s mouth as Y/n kissed up his neck from behind him. He was nervous to meet her family, but now it felt like that nervousness was not even worth it. Y/n’s family was amazing, friendly, and funny. Her serious father and brother had dropped their protective personas after a bit and got to know Tommy a bit more.

Bedtime finally rolled around and Y/n and Tommy wanted their alone time. They hadn’t had much since Ruby was born, so this only made the trip worth it even more. Y/n’s delicate hands massaged Tommy’s shoulders. They were tense and sore, probably from all the working and worrying he had been doing, but Y/n was happy to help.

“Love?”

“Yes Tommy?”

“Your family...you guys are really close, aren’t you?”

She stopped rubbing his shoulders and looked at him. Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. Y/n moved around him and sat in his lap, “Yes, I suppose we are...why do you ask? Aren’t you close with yours?”

“Well yes, of course but...” His hand rested on her thigh, rubbing it every so often. “I never knew a family like yours. You guys are so happy and trusting, your parents are so kind, and your siblings are funny and smart. I can see it in your eyes.”

“See what?”

“When you sip your wine and look over at your family...you love them a lot. The look in your eyes is rare, yet comforting.”

Y/n didn’t get what he was hinting at for a few minutes. Her hands brushed through Tommy’s hair once she finally realized. A moment of silence was shared, just Y/n combing her fingers through Tommy’s hair and Tommy rubbing Y/n’s thigh with a small half smile.

“Tommy. I love you, a lot. I love you and Charlie and Ruby. You guys are my world, you guys are my life, you guys are my present and my future. You guys make me so fucking happy. You have no idea how much I love you three. When I look at my family, I see the people I grew up with. I see the people who raised me and taught me almost everything I know. But when I look at you. I see my husband, the light of my life, the man who stole my heart and refused to give it back. I see the father of my children, the keeper of the key to my heart. The man who could get me to do almost anything with a simple smile. When I look at you and our little ones, I see the finishing touch to my family. I see my purpose in life.”

“I-” He didn’t know how to respond. And that was okay.

“I love you Thomas Michael Shelby.”

“I love you too Y/n M/n Shelby.”

Their lips pressed together for the final time that night before they went to sleep. This kiss was passionate and true. This kiss shared love. This kiss was beautiful. And this kiss helped show Tommy the true meaning of Happiness.

[merakiui]

There's an AFTERL!FE blog now! I'm so happy. All of your posts are so good and I love how you write. Would it be possible to get another story about Theo and Nine's rivalry? The way you write them is just so fun and enjoyable to read.

(Thank you so much! I’m very happy that you like my posts. (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ* You may definitely have another story of their rivalry! I had a blast writing it. This can be considered a sequel to Cake, but it can be read as a standalone as well.)

Nerium Oleander (Theo and Nine)

Stalkers are poison ivy. Their victims are innocent trees, who breathe life and fortune into the one who watches them like a hawk. Twining around their limbs like rope and heavy iron and keeping them pinned for all their worth—it’s a display of parasitic infatuation. Love, like any other emotion felt in full, is awfully draining. Day and night, allowing that person to consume your thoughts. Thinking and wondering if they appreciate you just as much as you value them. Wishing that they would notice everything you’ve done for them on the sidelines. Loathing anyone who threatens that nonexistent relationship.

As fate would have it, there are unlucky instances in which love is one-sided.

Theo simply can’t bear the thought of that, so he becomes oleander—a flower blooming in beautiful death. One hint of its aroma can send you to an early grave. Every inch of the inviting flower is bathed in poison, and yet it’s still so gorgeous. Why is it that the ugliest personalities have the prettiest shells? It’s frustrating to know that he has competition. In a setting with nineteen other Reapers, Theo’s got a lot on his plate. Like ivy and oleander, it’s the exterior that fools. A sharp, monstrous idea can be wonderful as long as it’s hidden within layers of honeyed promises. Like a cake that’s stacked with plenty of delicious flavors.

He doesn’t want to waste his time on endeavors that won’t bear any fruit, but befriending every Reaper will have its benefits. He’s already made a list of those who pose the highest threat to his precious manager. Nine is at the very top, his name circled in black pen. As much as he dislikes the polite and oh-so-gracious Reaper, he has to pretend as if the two of them are friendly coworkers. As if he doesn’t wish for Nine to transfer to another Department or to cease existing. But immortality is funny like that. You’re either stuck with the best people in the world or the fiends of your worst nightmares. Theo wonders if this is his punishment. Spending an eternity with Nine is far more hellish than Quincy and his status as a devil.

Which is why he holds so much hatred for those who hurt his manager, specifically the ones who simply don’t know when to quit.

The blue-eyed oleander witnesses it in the early hours of the morning during a particularly unfavorable mission. A vengeful spirit had the gall to hurt his manager, and they had even more of a spine to talk to them as if they were a worthless weed. In his garden of noxious plants, Theo sees the disgusting hemlock attempting to snuff out the beauty that is his beloved rose. His expression switches in an instant, a light flickering behind those expansive eyes. There are so many emotions he feels in that moment, but fear is dominant as it grabs his heart and squeezes. The spirit could kill them. It’s about to kill them, and he’s flipping through his spell book with rapturous intent.

And then Nine is at their side, shielding them from the spirit’s attack. Before him, the specter vents in anger, spewing meaningless insults. Theo feels as though he’s just been kicked in the stomach. Why is it so hard to get to you? he thinks, gripping the leather book. His chest aches as he sees the manager cling to Nine. Why can’t I be the one who saves you for once? Why can’t you just rely on me? Nine is better equipped to deal with the situation as he listens, attempting to reason with the vengeful spirit. Its crocodile tears don’t faze Theo in the slightest. He should be the one crying because he was too late. One spell and his manager would’ve been rescued from the claws of such a beastly spirit. And yet Nine was faster with his reaction time.

Theo makes a mental note of the way Nine purifies the vengeful spirit once it’s calmed down. He’s always gentle when he talks to them, using his relaxing aura to coax them into tranquility. Theo would’ve preferred to crush it beneath his unmerciful heel, but the problem has been solved. There’s no use fretting over it now. Though it will definitely keep him awake tonight.

“Manager!” He jogs over to them, dropping down to inspect their wounds. “Take this to stop the bleeding. I’ll help you.” Unfastening his cape, he passes it to the manager, who holds it against the bloody laceration while he searches for a proper healing spell.

“Thank you, Theo,” (Name) says, wincing at the stinging sensation. “That spirit really put up a fight. Thanks for coming to my aid, Nine.”

“No need to thank me, Manager. I’m relieved you’ll be okay. Mr. Theo will have you healed in no time.”

Theo grits his teeth before facing Nine. He wants this unworthy hemlock out of his special garden. “Could you gather the others? Let them know that we’re finished over here.”

“Very well. Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“No.” It comes out way too stern, and Theo’s quick to correct himself. “No thank you. We’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t spare Nine another glance as he departs, focusing on the manager’s pained expression with sympathy. They’re in his arms now, grasping at him for salvation. The situation couldn’t be anymore perfect.

“That was crazy, wasn’t it?” they ask, making light of the previous events. “My heart is still racing!”

“I...was so worried, Manager.”

They let out a wheezing chuckle. “Thank goodness Nine was there. If it weren’t for him, I could’ve gotten killed. It’s scary to think about.”

“Yeah. Terrifying,” he echoes while casting the healing spell on them. Surely there’s a curse that brings misfortune. Theo wants to do everything he can to master every negative incantation there is. Just for future reference. There are so many possibilities when it comes to his rivals. He’ll have a field day debating which is the most effective. “You’ve got to be more careful. If you ever find yourself in trouble, just come to me. I’ll always be here to help you.”

They smile, sitting up on their own accord and feeling for any wounds that might’ve escaped the cleansing powers of Theo’s magic. Every cut is sealed and every bruise is gone, leaving the manager with a feeling of rejuvenation. At once, they recognize the plush fabric of Theo’s cape and gasp, noticing just how much blood has stained the white cloth.

“I’m sorry for making such a mess. I’ll wash this as soon as we get back.”

Theo eyes the color with disdain. How utterly cliché. It’s almost sickening. Red on white is too bold—too deep of an implication. Red is a color that means many things, two of that being passion and love. A third is the color of blood. And white is meant to symbolize purity. Theo knows he’ll have to work hard so that the manager’s purity doesn’t bleed out onto the sterile white of this corrupt world. There’s no way he’ll ever let that happen. When he stares at his cape, drenched in splotchy crimson, he sees more than just a soiled piece of fabric. He sees the darkest imprint of (Name). But blood is still messy, even if it is his beloved’s.  

Theo wonders which cleaning agent is best for erasing blood. His thoughts spiral deeper and deeper into a rabbit hole of wickedness. Mortality is fragile, and cake and blood are no different. Both are victims of inescapable chance. On the other hand, immortality is a curse that binds him to the one he’d rather be far away from. Speak of the hemlock, who has completed the command with diligence. Nine approaches with the others in tow, all of whom crowd the manager like insects. Theo wishes to spend a moment longer with them. Just a few more minutes. There’s so much I want to tell you. He’s bound to this silver-lined rivalry, a prisoner of obsession. And Nine has no idea.

He supposes that’s how poison works. It doesn’t take long until it spreads within its victim, who is unaware as it shuts down vital organs and flatlines their functions. If Theo has to cut the strings that tie him to Nine and anyone else who dares get in the way of him and the manager, he’ll do whatever it takes. Like poison, it’s small and deadly. Poison might not kill an immortal Soul Reaper, but that has nothing to do with their mentality. Cake might be the same when it comes to ingredients and presentation, but it’s the baker who’s most important. A cracked baker is easy to exploit. He’s even easier to tear apart when he’s alone and basking in his own corrosive thoughts.

The oleander festers at the manager���s side, a quiet flower waiting for an opportunity to infect everyone with debilitating poison.

------

Nine has begun to notice a pattern. It’s tiny at first—like a minor inconsistency that isn’t worth the trouble. But then it becomes a prominent itch that looms in the back of his mind like a shadow. Since that mission, Theo’s been hanging around the manager as if he expects another near-death experience to happen, which shouldn’t be much of a worry. Although (Name)’s mortality is concerning, Nine knows the Reapers in the 14th Department would never let any fatal harm befall their precious manager. So why is there a strange feeling that overwhelms him whenever he spots Theo trailing after them, holding files or a bento he made specifically for them? Anyone with half of a brain would assume he’s playing favorites, attempting to get on the manager’s good side so that the punishment for skipping out on work is lighter. Though Theo doesn’t seem like the type to slack off, which is why Nine is sinking in a state of perplexion.

What is he trying to achieve? Realistically, what is there to gain other than (Name)’s approval? They like each and every one of the Reapers, so it’s not like anyone’s on their bad side. He has an eternity to figure it out, though Nine can’t exactly be bothered. If it isn’t hurting anyone, why should he fret over Theo’s behavior? It’s not as though he’s acting out of line. Rather, he’s been quite pleasant. He even offered to assist Nine in moving a few boxes. Nine doesn’t want to hold any suspicions about his colleague, nor does he want paranoia gnawing on his ankles like a puppy.

Without realizing it, he’s been aimlessly walking through the campus as he pieces together fragmented thoughts. His eyes land on the manager, who is alone as they stride towards him. For once, Theo isn’t at their beck and call. Nine thinks of Day and his unwavering loyalty. Perhaps Theo is just as enthused about (Name) as Day is with him. Nine shrugs those comparisons away, opting to focus on his manager.

“Hi, Nine! What’re you doing out here?”

“Taking a small stroll,” he answers. “The weather is perfect for this, and it’s always beneficial to get some exercise.”

“I agree. To be honest, I wanted to clear my head for a bit. I’ve got so much work that it’s beginning to stress me out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Manager. Would you like any help?”

“I don’t want to bother you.” They wave their hand through the air as if the distress isn’t clear enough. It’s obvious they’ve been pulling all-nighters just to get through paperwork and other tasks. “Would you mind if we walked together?”

Nine considers their offer for a moment. While he would prefer a few more moments to himself, he can’t deny someone as caring as (Name). It’s almost a crime to turn them down, and he has no idea where all of this fondness is suddenly coming from. Regardless, there’s a sneaking sensation that touches his sixth sense. Since when did the flowers have eyes? The wind rustles through the greenery, creating an eerie sound that settles in the courtyard. He’s compelled to retrace his steps and turn down the corridor, but your patient expression chases that idea away.

“I don’t mind.” He falls into step with you, calmly observing the deliberate clicking of your shoes. “Take care not to overwork yourself. The 14th Department depends on your leadership.”

At least a few Reapers are more than dependent, he thinks.

“I’ll be fine as long as I can finish everything on time. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Make sure you’re getting enough rest and eating your meals—“

“I know,” they say, drawing out the syllables. “I appreciate your concern, Nine. It means a lot.”

He nods, a simple gesture that confirms his gratitude. His manager is always thanking and praising the others. Briefly, he wonders if they’ve ever taken time to care for their own well-being rather than the well-beings of the Soul Reapers.

“When all of this is over, I’d love to spend more time with you,” (Name) goes on, a bounce in their step. Nine doesn’t miss the excitement that flashes through their features at the prospect of getting to bond with him. He’d rather be alone, but Nine has found it to be a challenge whenever they’re involved. “Do you think you could teach me to play an instrument? I’ve been meaning to pick something up, but I never seem to have time.”

Well, Nine happens to be skilled with his hands. And hands are required to play most—if not all—instruments. Perhaps you’d like to learn the violin, or maybe you’re interested in the drums. He’ll have to learn as he goes with those, but it’s worth it if it means (Name) will be happy. How odd. Where did all of this compassion come from? Nine knows what instrument they’ll say, as the two of them have sat in the storage room and played it on plenty of occasions. The atmosphere doesn’t change, but the flowers certainly do. As if wanting to blot out a horrid memory, the eyes close and a mouth creases into a tight line. Nothing short of disappointment.

“I was thinking I could be good at the piano if I tried hard enough. What do you think? We can play together, and we can even form a band.”

A band consisting of two people is hardly a band. Handcuffs can only restrict one person. A pair of unseeing eyes are useless, and Nine knows his words must be chosen carefully lest his tongue sit on a rusted tray.

He puts on a thin smile. “Learning an instrument can be just as stressful as work. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize your health.”

“I’ll be fine, but you do make a good point. It might be overwhelming if I try to balance that and missions. One of these days I’ll try to learn.”

Just not now.

And he couldn’t be any more relieved.

------

Nine finds himself in the common room later that evening, reflecting over the events of the day when he encounters the blooming oleander. He’s preoccupied with the book in his hands, which is a collection of stories written by the famous Edgar Allan Poe. He never intended to pick up something so macabre. It happened to be the first thing he grabbed while perusing the shelves. Perhaps he should’ve looked for a poetry book instead. Before he can get up and complete that task, Theo enters his visage, the corners of his lips upturned. It fails to reach his eyes.

“Good evening, Nine. I didn’t expect to find you here. This is a wonderful surprise nonetheless.” He says a greeting that’s reminiscent of Nine’s, which has been tailored ingeniously. Recycled words are only worthwhile if they’re put to positive use, and Theo bleeds venom. He has no reason to speak to Nine. In fact, he’d rather avoid him at all costs, but that won’t work if he intends to poison his fragile mind with every bit of sly kindness he can muster. Theo has learned to be resourceful. A talented baker knows how to improvise, after all. “Oh, I recognize that cover. It’s an anthology of Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories. Which one are you reading?”

Nine glances at the page, picking out notable phrases. He’s at the part where the old man is smothered by his own bedsheets. “‘The Tell-Tale Heart.’”

“That’s grim, isn’t it? Well, all of his stories are, but that one in particular is really morbid.” Theo sits beside him on the sofa, keeping a gap between him and the weed that is Nine. “Wouldn’t it be scary if you woke up to someone trying to kill you? I know I’d be alarmed. But we’ve already experienced death, so maybe it’s not frightening anymore.”

He tries to understand the motive behind Theo’s incessant chatter. The two of them have never really clicked. Small talk isn’t something they can fall into so easily. Nine wants to ask Theo many things, but it’s wrong to suspect someone without any evidence. So he merely nods as he listens to Theo, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave. It’s not as if Nine doesn’t want to talk; he’s just not accustomed to this facet of the Day Reaper. Lo and behold, the question slips out before he can stop himself.

“What would you do?”

“Excuse me?”

“If you were one of the investigators, what would be your reaction to the man?”

“Oh,” Theo states, pursing his lips as if the inquiry requires deep thought. “We know that the narrator is unreliable. He only wants to kill the old man because of his eyes. He gets paranoid when he hears the man’s heartbeat coming from the floorboards, even after he dismembered his body. I’m sure anyone, investigator or not, would think he’s insane.”

“Do you think that?”

Theo bristles at the question, a sour taste coating his tongue. Why is he suddenly being interrogated by Nine? This isn’t an interview, and it certainly isn’t a questionnaire for a criminal. He laughs to cover up the crack in his mask. “Of course I do. No one of sound mind would murder someone defenseless all because of the way their eyes looked. Just saying it out loud like this is madness.”

Nine nods again. Insanity cannot exist without sanity. A heart cannot function without a beat. A parasite cannot live without a host. He’s not sure where this conversation is going. This is far from a cheery book club meeting. Nine searches every inch of his expression, noting the occasional twitch of his mouth and the constriction of his pupils. Yet he can’t detect an ounce of a practiced lie. Could it be that his instincts are misplaced? Is this what Theo has wanted all along: A moment to talk to Nine as friends rather than coworkers? Perhaps he has been incorrect in his judgement.

The book shuts; Nine doesn’t want to read anymore. There’s an unfinished composition waiting for him in his dorm room. Standing up from the couch, he lowers his head in the form of a farewell. He sets the novel on the coffee table so that Theo can indulge in the fictional world of Poe.

“I’m afraid something has come up, so I’ll be leaving now. Please enjoy the remainder of your evening, Mr. Theo.”

“I will.” Theo beams. “Sleep well.”

Nine doesn’t waste a second turning his back on Theo, exiting the common room with graceful movements. As soon as he’s out of sight, the happy grin melts away and is replaced with that of a dark scowl. He’s not a mindless fool. It was obvious that Nine was uncomfortable. He’s just too polite to say anything, and that’s a weakness Theo’s willing to dissect.

So you were reading Poe, hm? he muses to himself, picking up the book and turning it over in his hands. I took you for a poetry guy. How chilling, Nine. Manager wouldn’t like these grotesque tales.

Who is he to determine what they like and dislike? Theo’s watched (Name) for quite some time now, committing their quirky habits to memory. It’s almost comical how they never seem to notice. Nine does, but he’s always been keen, and yet he can never understand the meaning behind his constant staring. That’ll happen when you spend your days alone, keeping yourself entertained with the voice inside your head. Theo wonders if Nine gets lonely with that depressing lifestyle. The two of them are like night and day. Theo’s bright and blinding like the sun. Nine is quiet and calm like the moon. But there isn’t any oxygen on the moon, and the sun can steal a person’s eyesight without feeling any remorse. Two Reapers of complete opposites, rising and setting all the same. A weed and a flower masquerading in a game of cat and mouse.

Oleander grows to towering heights. A stalker’s presence looms as tall as the very flower Theo embodies. He doesn’t care if he’s a leech or a misleading flower. Anything’s better than hemlock and the imposter cake Nine’s baking. Theo’s the baker and the pianist, not Nine. It will never be Nine. He’ll make sure of that. At his very core, Nine is a jawbreaker of many emotions and memories. Theo will fracture every layer until nothing’s left. Until the ground is a mess of colors and stories that unfold before the entire 14th Department. He’ll dig into Nine’s mind with a knife and fork to pull apart stringy recollections of his past life. It’s guaranteed to be a dessert far tastier than a slice of cake.

Poison ivy is easy to identify. As the saying goes, ‘leaves of three, let it be.’ Theo isn’t as obvious as a sickening rash. That’s the difference between ivy and oleander. One kills and the other spreads with red irritation. While he could sit and wallow in bitter annoyance, he’d rather get to memorizing every hateful hex in his spell book. Maybe he can trick Ell into making him a felt doll of Nine. Oh, the thrill of voodoo. Theo’s never performed such dark magic before, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. He’d like to see Nine lose his mind for a change, because eternity knows Theo’s lost his.

The manager deserves only the prettiest of flowers, and oleander has such a gripping, virulent embrace.

[chaptersinprogress]

demolition lovers  |  4

"P'King!"

Sighing, he closed his eyes and sent the heavens a quick prayer for patience. Speak of the devil.

Rating: T

Warnings: mild swearing

Pairings: Ram/King; Bohn/Duen

King frowned as he checked his watch. What was taking Bohn so long? Surely the meeting with the professors hadn't run that late. He sighed and shot Mek a text.

K: I'm at the Gear Statue. Where are you guys? Is the case still being discussed?

M: Still outside the Dean's office. They're taking longer than expected. Might be more serious than we thought.

K: Damn. Still can't believe it was the archi department the nongs brawled with. We've always had a decent relationship with them.

M: Yeah. But don't worry, we haven't seen any sign of the med kid yet. We'll make sure Bohn doesn't run into him.

K: Thanks. Sorry for taking up your afternoon.

M: Bohn's our friend, it's nothing.

King pocketed his phone with a smile. Mek and Boss were far too good to them. He swung his bag onto his shoulder as he got up. He'd better go find the Year 1s now, or he'd be late for their tutoring session.

"P'King!"

Sighing, he closed his eyes and sent the heavens a quick prayer for patience. Speak of the devil. Opening his eyes, he found Duen standing in front of him, holding a bouquet of flowers.

"N'Duen," he said coldly.

Duen flinched slightly at his tone. "Ah, sorry to trouble you, P'King. Do you mind helping me pass this to P'Bohn? I didn't manage to find him this morning to pass them to him myself."

"Don't worry, you can consider the deal over. You needn't bother."

"But I want to," Duen replied slightly desperately. "I have to make it up for hurting him."

King let his eyes fall to the bouquet Duen clutched. Purple hyacinths were interspersed with daffodils, all enclosed within a ring of fresh snowdrops. He mentally catalogued the flowers - forgiveness, new beginnings, hope.

"And why should I pass this to Bohn?" he asked. "What are you expecting, N'Duen?"

"I...I..." began Duen, stammering. He took a deep breath. "I wish to court P'Bohn!"

King raised his eyebrows. "Oh? But I thought you found his attention... troublesome."

Duen flushed. "I didn't mean it that way! It's just... P'Bohn can be kind of forceful. And there are a lot of people who aren't happy about his attention being on me, so...um... they take it out on me. It's a bit scary sometimes," he admitted.

King felt himself soften slightly. He'd grown up with Bohn and knew first-hand just how aggressive he could get when he wanted something. That and people could get very ugly sometimes, especially when it came to matters of the heart. 

No wonder the kid had reacted so strongly. The stress of being pushed around by Bohn and the others had slowly built until he'd finally exploded. Bohn had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"But are you willing to deal with this?" King pressed. "There will probably be many times in the future that situations like this occur again. Who's to say that you won't react the way you did again? I don't want to watch my best friend get hurt."

Duen considered the question carefully. "P'King, I cannot guarantee you that I will never hurt P'Bohn again. We are both human, and we will end up making mistakes, some of which will hurt each other."

"But I can promise you that I've had the week to think about this,” he continued. “And I'm sure that P'Bohn is worth the effort. The future may be uncertain, but I'm willing to apologise for the mistakes I've made and will end up making. And if P'Bohn will have me, I hope to stay by his side for a long time."

King searched Duen's face for the slightest hint of insincerity, finding none. And the fact was, the type of relationship Duen and Bohn had was between the two of them. He had no right to determine it. Caving, he took the bouquet.

"Fine. I'll help you pass this to Bohn. But- !" he said as a smile spread across Duen's face. "First you'll need to convince Bohn to accept you on your own. Then you'll have to convince me that you're a good match for him."

Duen nodded frantically. "Yes, P'King! Thank you for giving me a chance!"

King sighed, already beginning to regret the decision. "Alright, alright. Scram," he said, walking off to find the Year 1s.

"P'King, over here!" shouted Phu.

King raised his hand in acknowledgement and strode over to the group of Years 1s huddled together at a bench in the Engineering Faculty's garden.

"Hello nongs, I've heard that you need some help. Your midterms coming up?" he asked, leaning against the side of the table.

Phu nodded frantically. "Yes Phi, but we're all lost when it comes to indeterminate forms of limits and L'Hospital's rule."

"Ah. Yeah, it can be a bit tricky to wrap your head around at first. Let me see, we can work through an example together."

King spent the next ten minutes explaining the concepts, first to the entire group, then tailoring the explanation to suit the individuals who still couldn't fully grasp it. When he had satisfactorily cleared the theoretical doubts, he assigned the group a set of questions from the textbook to try applying what they had learnt.

After giving them five minutes to attempt the questions on their own, he began walking around, checking their work and offering corrections and guidance to those who needed it. As he pointed out a mistake to one of the students, he heard Phu call out.

"Ram! I saved you a seat. Hurry up, P'King has already started tutoring!"

King felt his heart rate pick up. What were the chances that this was some other 1st year engineering student also named Ram?

He felt more than saw someone settle down opposite the student he was helping. King's palms grew sweaty. Still torn between wanting to know and remaining ignorant of who exactly had joined them, he forced himself to focus on the worksheet.

When he finished pointing out the errors and could delay no further, he slowly straightened up. His eyes dragged across the books stacked on the table to muscular forearms encased in a crisp white shirt, travelling along the length of a slim black tie, before arriving at a familiar face.

King swallowed heavily as Ram looked up at him, expression carefully blank.

"Ah P'King, do you mind explaining the concepts again to Ram?" asked Phu. "Sorry he's late, I forgot to mention to you that he had a prior commitment."

King hastily turned to face Phu, grateful for the opportunity to look away. "No worries, Nong. I'll be right there."

He made his way over to Ram at snail-pace, desperately trying to prolong the time it took to reach his ill-fated crush. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was about to burst right out of his chest.

Finally reaching Ram's shoulder, King took a deep breath before speaking. "So, um, do you have any particular questions or do you want me to start from the top?"

Ram nodded sharply. King waited for Ram to clarify which of the two he was referring to but received no answer.

"You do understand Thai, right?" he asked carefully.

Ram gave another jerky nod. When no further reply came, King ran a hand through his hair. "From the top then, I assume. Turn your textbook to the chapter on indefinite limits, we'll start from there."

He muddled his way through the explanations, relying on Ram's nods and head shakes to gauge his understanding. Assigning Ram a couple of questions, he stepped back and took a few moments to collect himself.

Shit. Having to tutor his crush was pure torture. He had been hyper-aware of himself the entire time - every breath, every tiny motion he made, and even the volume of his voice. The stress of having to be near Ram was going to be the death of him.

"P'King," Phu called. "Ram's having difficulty with this question."

Pulling himself together, King braced a hand on the table and leaned over Ram's shoulder to study the problem. As he did so, he caught a whiff of Ram's cologne - a heady blend of musk, wood and leather. The scent hung seductively in the air.

King inhaled deeply, subtly trying to fill his lungs with it. Too distracted by the smell to concentrate on anything else, he stared at the paper blankly, not processing a single word.

Ram turned his head slightly to stare at his suddenly all-too-quiet senior. The movement caused his nose to lightly brush against King's cheek. The touch burnt like the white heat of a comet trail and yanked the senior back to the present.

King jerked away like he'd been stung.

"I...er...I forgot about a meeting. Gotta go now," he stammered, grabbing his bag and the bouquet from Duen off the bench. "N'Phu, send me a photo of the question. I'll get back to you later," he said before promptly fleeing, leaving the 1st year students staring after him in confusion.

Bohn stroked a smooth petal delicately. "What did you say the flowers meant again?"

"Forgiveness, new beginnings and hope," came King's muffled voice from where he'd buried his face in the mound of pillows littering Bohn's bed.

Bohn hid the smile that had slowly begun to spread across his face in the bouquet. "King, he went through the trouble of making an apology bouquet."

"Yay... lucky you..."

Bohn shot his friend a glare. "What's your problem? You've been like that for half an hour already."

"Don't remind me," King moaned, attempting to smother himself with the pillows. "Or better yet, just kill me now."

"You have five seconds to start talking before I come over there and make you talk," Bohn threatened. "Five. Four. Thre-"

King threw a pillow at him without looking. It bounced off the edge of the couch, nowhere near Bohn. Grabbing it, Bohn chucked it back at King, and unlike his friend, nailed him right in the head.

"Ow! Alright! He was part of the group I had to tutor today and then I went and fucked it all up with my stupid crush, happy?!"

"What did y- "

Bohn's phone pinged. Deciding to drop the subject for the moment, Bohn reached over and picked it up. Reading the message, he whooped and jumped on top of King.

"He asked me out! King, Duen asked me out!"

King lifted his head up with a groan and wheezed, "He did what now?"

"He asked me out!" yelled Bohn into his ear. "Our usual bar, tomorrow night at 9!"

"Ok, ok, I heard you now get off me," King pleaded, gasping for breath.

Bohn promptly rolled off him and moved to text Duen. King put an immediate stop to that by grabbing Bohn's arm.

"Wait, are you sure you want to accept? This is the same guy who rejected you a week ago that we're talking about."

Bohn raised an imperious eyebrow. "Of course I'm sure. I always get what I want."

King sighed and let Bohn get back to texting Duen. He pulled out his own phone. Like hell was he letting Bohn walk into this on his own.

K: Our resident idiot has decided to accept that kid's request for a date tomorrow

P: You serious? The same one he was avoiding at the fundraiser?

K: Yeah. A bouquet of flowers is all it took for that resolve to collapse like a house of cards.

P: What's the plan?

K: I'm gonna go with. No way in hell am I going to leave them alone till I'm sure of his intentions.

P: Text me the address and time, I'll be there

K: No way. You have your hazing trip the next morning. Are you not planning to sleep? You're not coming.

P: You're not my dad. And that's my problem. Besides, Bohn's given you the slip plenty of times. As long as he doesn't know I'm there, we can keep an eye on him.

K: Fine. The usual bar, 9pm. I'll let you know if there's a change of plans.

P: Got it

[mollymauk-teafleak]

A Gentleman’s Guide to Dancing (chapter two)

For the ever wonderful @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian

Chapter One

Please leave a comment on Ao3! 

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“And where do you think you’re going at this time of the day, young lady?”

It was their little joke, between the two of them, one that wouldn’t get old. Taako knew fine well where his sister was going when he caught her at the door, in her nicest day dress with her hair done up in elaborate braids protected from the wind by a silken scarf that had been a gift from their aunt, with a basket hanging from one arm that was emanating a distinct, sweet sugar smell.

“None of your business,” she told him primly but with a wicked grin, one that lifted her freckled cheeks.

Taako leaned in the doorway, eyeing his sister with his best impression of a stern older brother, “Definitely not going to meet that scoundrel of a blacksmith in town?”

“I’m sure I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Lup checked her hair in the silvered hall mirror, “The only scoundrel I know is you.”

Taako had to laugh at that, rolling his eyes, “Well, give Barold my best. Tell him I hope he enjoys the cookies I spent all of yesterday making…”

His sister turned a pleading look on him, delicately moving the basket behind her back, “There were only ten left anyway! And he does really like them.”

He waved her off with a dismissive hand, “It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll just make more. Or starve, whichever. Have fun.”

Taako expected to hear the door open and shut in quick succession, Lup as eager as ever to go do whatever she did with her gentleman caller that he definitely didn’t want to think about. But instead she lingered, eyes now on him rather than her reflection though there were enough similarities between the two.

“Taako…”

He stifled a sigh. He knew this as well, as familiar as their joke, though this was starting to grate on him more. Lup gazing at him whenever she would leave to meet Barry, guilt and a little bit of pity in her eyes. Like she was tensing the bond between them, putting strain on it and felt like she should apologise.

Taako couldn’t stand that. He couldn’t bear the fact that his sister felt she had to apologise for being happy.

It was true that for years they’d had nothing but each other, knowing each other inside and out, forming shelters for each other when nothing else made sense. But the older they both got, the more he realised Lup needed more than him. She needed someone dependable and brave, who went around fixing problems. Someone she could build something with, rather than hide in.

Lup needed Barry in a way she’d never need Taako again.

He knew that. He just didn’t like being reminded of it.

He loped forward, meeting her in the square of morning sunlight coming in through the leaded glass, reaching forward and tucking a loose strand of golden hair back into the safety of the silk.

“You never do braids as neatly as me,” he smirked, patting her cheek before stepping back, “Go have fun, Lup. Don’t you dare come back before midnight.”

Lup looked as if there was more she wanted to say but eventually sighed, a small smile that was sad and grateful all at once, carrying the weight of everything they hadn’t said, “I love you, Koko. I’ll see you later.”

“Same to you, Lulu,” Taako fixed a smile on his face that carried nothing but what it was, quite deliberately, “Love ya.”

The house did feel so much emptier when she was gone.

Taako sighed softly, suddenly not wanting to go back to his book. He had the restless, fidgety energy that he sometimes got, the prickling under his skin and the swimming in his vision. He either needed to fire off some spells as quickly as possible or he needed to cook something.

Seeing as Lup had just made off with the last of the cookies he made the other day, he chose the second.

Taako was well aware that young men of his station were supposed to never set foot in the kitchen. But he was already clinging to said station by the very edges of his fingertips and cooking funneled his restlessness into something tasty and useful so he saw little harm in indulging himself within his own home.

He’d always loved it, in fact, and illuminating the manor’s kitchen with a wave of his hand brought a rush of fondness and, just for a moment, made him five years old again. Tiny and slight with ears so big he couldn’t hold them up and a broken heart in his little chest, still expecting his mother or father to walk through the door at any moment. Sitting at Auntie’s feet because he didn’t know how to be alone but for the first time Lup didn’t want him near. Finally getting himself absorbed in what she was doing, how she turned separate ingredients into something else, something new. If he followed her hands, became fascinated by the hidden, subtle magic of it all, then he didn’t have to think about why his sister cried all the time, why she seemed to have given up on mama and papa ever coming back, why they lived here now instead of their old house.

Even years later, when he and Lup found each other again, when they learned how to function with the raw, broken edges of their family, Taako still cooked. He bought books, telling anyone who gave him strange looks that it was for his Auntie, when really he would stay up all night making notes in the margins for possible amendments and sketching out presentation ideas. It was like his magic in a lot of ways. Taking separate things and making something new, something that hadn’t existed before and now did because of his efforts.

That was all Taako wanted. Making cakes out of flour and eggs and sugar. Making illusions out of simple electrical charges in the air, the patterns and eddies he could feel with his fingertips.

Making a future for his sister out of the mess he’d been up until now.

Taako gave a soft sigh and tied back his hair into a messy bun, a bastardised version of the neat queue it was normally in. He tugged on his apron, so faded it was hard to see it had ever been blue and white striped. Already his blue mood was fading, shaking off his hands like irritating droplets of water as he gathered bowls and ingredients from the pantry.

Lup had taken the last of the cookies but he found himself gathering sugar, the scalloped tins from the very back of the cupboard and some of the wildflower honey from Merle’s bees. Madelines it was then. Sometimes his hands made decisions before his brain did.

His ears twitched when the early afternoon sun fell on them, as if feeling the warm weight of it. The window, slightly ajar, let in nothing but a fresh breeze and birdsong. He settled into familiar actions and rhythms, certain in his actions, doing everything by eye with a sense of pride. And slowly, surely, like the honey running from the spoon, Taako felt himself again.

He whistled as he worked, summoning lemons right into his hand, tossing it from one palm to the other playfully. It wasn’t until the bowl was filled with perfect butter yellow curls of zest that Taako realised he was humming the song from the dance. The song that had carried him and Kravitz in a mad dance around the entirety of Countess Raven’s manor in a fit of burned frustration, wine and mania.

The thought brought a rush of heat to Taako’s freckled cheeks and the now waxy white lemon slipped through his fingers and bounced to the tiled floor. He retrieved it as quick as he could; with their funds the way they were, he couldn’t afford to be wasting ingredients. He’d lost the song but it still played in his head, as muffled as it had been that night, a counterpoint to the winter wind and the night owls that gathered in the woods.

“Come on,” he muttered to himself in irritation, continuing the stirring with magic alone just to have something to focus on. Something that wasn’t Kravitz or the way he’d smelled of polished oak or how cool his hands had been in the few times they’d ghosted over his own as they’d danced.

That wasn’t going to get him anywhere. It had been a nice wild moment, a release of the anxiety and frustration of a boring party, but he couldn’t see it existing outside of that night, like a flower that could only grow in a certain place with just the right soil. He wasn’t expecting to see Kravitz again. Now that the cold light of day had reminded them both who they were and what they were and just what was appropriate for them to be doing.

Taako began to spoon mixture into the scalloped impressions, lined up neatly like the world’s most orderly beach. Soon each one had a thick golden puddle in the centre, speckled with bright yellow. He took a moment to feel proud of himself and admire just how neat they all looked before banging them in the ancient, cast iron oven. He and Lup would scarf them down within two hours for sure. If any survived, he’d take them to Merle and Magnus in town.

He didn’t take off his apron or loosen his hair, not quite sure if he was finished yet. He simply magicked up a cup of tea and sat on one counter to rest his ankles, enjoying the kitchen filling with the smell of lemons and honey.

And suddenly it turned bitter in his mouth as a thought struck him, like his brain had just decided he was far too content and needed to be knocked back.

This could be the last time you get to do this.

Taako’s hands tightened around the mug, magic suddenly pulsing through his fingertips and leaving a hairline crack down the side. When he finally found a wealthy heiress willing to marry him- if, the sly voice corrected- it would hardly be proper for him to haunt the kitchen any more. He’d be expected to do whatever gentlemen did with their free time, probably hunt or drink brandy or scoff at poor people. A lifetime of pretending, of wearing a mask and hoping it eventually just fused to his face so he could forget there’d ever been anything underneath.

And that was if things went well. If they didn’t, in two months they wouldn’t have a home, let alone a kitchen. Destitution or a complete loss of the very few things he liked about himself. Those were his choices.

Auntie had sickened and gone so quickly there had been no time to formalise anything, to fill in the gaps that hadn’t been filled. Neither he nor Lup were officially recorded anywhere as her heirs, given that they weren’t her children, that she’d taken them in out of the goodness of her heart after not speaking to her twin since they were the age of the two children she’d suddenly acquired.

Taako tried to remember how he’d felt this time last year. Young, free, invincible. Able to outrun or outsmart anything that would dare try and trip him up. Unaware that life was just around the corner and it would always be faster, smarter and crueller than him.

If you weren’t the way you are, it wouldn’t have happened. Of course Auntie didn’t put anything in writing, she didn’t want a fuck up like you as her heir. If you were better, if you were even halfway decent, Lup would be safe.

Taako slammed the mug down on the counter, completing the destruction his magic had already done, though he didn’t stop and look back to see. Almost frantically he threw himself at the cupboards, pulling out whatever ingredients weren’t already assembled, anything he could get his hands on. He found more bowls, more spoons, his magic reaching out and grabbing whatever his hands couldn’t. And then he was moving, following a set of instructions that came from nowhere, latching onto them desperately so he wasn’t at the mercy of the rest of his mind. He didn’t care what he was making, as long as he could add something to the world in a manic attempt to prove his own worth in some small way.

And then there was a knock at the door.

Taako cursed under his breath, trying to steady his hands and dissipate his magic and his anxiety just as he’d done before, though this time it was like oil, just clinging tighter for all his efforts. As he went down the hall he did quick mental maths, trying to juggle in his head while moving his feet. If it was the milkman,they should have just enough spare silver rattling around to pay him, if it was the butcher he would take an IOU if Taako batted his eyelashes enough…

If it was a bailiff…

Taako shook that thought out of his mind and opened the door before he could lose his nerve

“Oh hello! I was hoping you’d be in,” Kravitz stood on the doorway, framed in winter sunlight, as effortlessly neat as he had been that night.

“I...yes, I’m in,” Taako said, apparently thinking that the only thing to do when stood in a doorway with the most idiotic gaping expression was to say something equally stupid.

There was a pause while Kravitz shifted his weight and cleared his throat, though he took the fact that Taako’s brain had apparently fallen out of the back of his head with good grace.

“I...I’m sorry if it’s a bad time or I’m interrupting,” he said with an adorably coy smile, “I was just going insane stuck inside of the mistress' mansion all by myself and had to get some air and, well...I don’t know anyone else around here?”

Taako relaxed a little. Maybe the honesty and openness from the party had survived, if only for a while, like a good kind of hangover.

“Well, you know me,” he flashed a smile, “And that’s really all the interesting people who live around here anyway.”

Kravitz laughed, a pleasant, deep, laugh with just a little rumble around the edges, “May I come in?”

Taako stepped to one side and gestured down the hall, though now thinking of the many jobs that needed doing since they’d had to let the staff go, the dust gathering in the corners and the grime on some of the windows where neither he nor Lup had got around to cleaning them.

But Kravitz’s eyes passed over all of that as if it wasn’t there, hanging up his coat on the stand. He was wearing a similar colour scheme to what he’d worn at the party, all black, but this time a loose everyday shirt and waistcoat, dark trousers with a high waist. Taako wondered if the Countess made black mandatory or whether her ward was consciously trying to fit in. Or maybe he just liked black too.

“Are you working on something?” Kravitz asked delicately, apparently paying as much attention to Taako’s dress as he was to Kravitz’s.

Taako looked down at himself, only just managing to bite back a curse. He’d left his apron on without thinking, still dusted with flour and a few golden honey stains.

“Oh, um…” his mind raced for an excuse as to why he’d be dressed this way, each wilder than the last. Rehearsing a play? This was the new men’s fashion for elvenkind? The flour was actually ground bone or some equally grisly spell component?

Kravitz seemed to sniff the air a little, the scent of lemon and sugar and lavender escaping from the kitchen, “Are you baking?”

Taako swallowed, hoping he wasn’t blushing but the burning in his cheeks said otherwise, “Yeah, just...just a little…” He searched Kravitz’s expression for any disdain, confused when all he saw was a polite interest. Maybe even fascination.

“It smells divine! I’d never have thought you would be interested in something like baking but you’re clearly something of a genius.”

Now Taako was blushing for an entirely different reason, “Well...it’s kind of you to say so. I’m interested in all kinds of cooking really, not just baking. I always have, since I was small.”

Kravitz just looked outright impressed and not even in a feigned way. Taako actually didn’t think his face could hold an insincere expression.

“That’s amazing. If I were left to my own devices with no servants or cooks or anything, I’d starve before the day was through.”

Taako’s lips quirked upwards, “Well, if that ever happens, just come knock on my door. I’ll keep you going.”

Kravitz’s eyes brightened, “That’s a comforting thought.”

Taako gave a slight chuckle, tucking loose hair back behind his ears, “Why don’t you come through? I can make coffee and the madelines should be ready soon.”

And that was how Taako ended up with the heir of one of the richest and most mysterious families for miles around leaning against his kitchen counter, drinking coffee and pouting adorably when he was informed that the madelines needed to cool before they could be eaten.

“Believe me, it’s worth it,” Taako grinned, after discreetly vanishing the shards of broken mug from his outburst, “When the sugar cools and hardens around the edge and you get that snap when you bite into it...that’s magic right there.”

Kravitz seemed to accept that, eyes wandering, “And what were you making over there?” He indicated the half finished mess of Taako’s frantic baking frenzy just before the bell had rung.

Looking at it now, Taako had to suck a breath in through his teeth and admit, “I...have no idea. I was kind of...improvising?”

“Oh,” he nodded, looking like he might have sensed the hesitation under the elf’s words and was deciding to ignore it, “So...if I was going to learn to bake, just in case I’m shipwrecked on a deserted island or something of that nature and I can’t get in contact with you...what would I start with?”

Taako smirked, “Does this deserted island have a fully functioning kitchen?”

“Let’s say it does.”

Taako puzzled it over for a moment, wandering over to the shelf where all his recipe books were haphazardly piled, no attempt made to keep them neat with how frequently he pulled them down and juggled them around. Most were dog eared, either from use, being second hand or a combination of both. Some, Auntie used to say, were from generations back, hand written in crumbling scrawls.

“Do you like sweet or savoury things?” he hummed, fingers walking over some of the spines.

“Sweet,” came the almost shy reply. Taako hid a smile, it was a little unusual that someone who dressed entirely in black and lived in a mansion decorated with black feathers and even some skulls would have a sweet tooth.

“Well then, let’s try cookies. We can throw some nuts in, islands have nut trees, right? Do nuts grow on trees?”

“Some do,” Kravitz sounded like he was reciting from a textbook, like he was a schoolboy facing a tutor and eager for a gold star, “Tree nuts like hazelnuts and pistachios and pecans. All others aren’t actually nuts, they’re legumes or seeds.”

Taako lifted an eyebrow. Someone clearly didn’t go outside enough as a child. He hopped up onto his knees on the counter so he could reach far enough back and snag the ingredients.

“Right, well, tree nuts it is. And plenty of brown sugar, the good sticky stuff that goes like molasses when you bake it…”

“You’re so knowledgeable about this,” Kravitz’s voice suddenly sounded so much closer than it had before. When Taako turned, he saw that he’d moved right up beside him and was offering out a hand to help him down.

Stunned, Taako found himself blurting, “I could float down. If I wanted to.”

He immediately felt a pang of regret as a look of hurt flashed across Kravitz’s face for just a moment before smoothing out into his usual polite smile. The hand snapped back to his side, “Of course. I should have known better, I’m a magic user myself.”

Taako’s guilt crystallised into sharp edges in his chest as he recognised an obvious attempt to change the subject. But still he nodded, playing along, as if the jar in their conversation had never happened, “I can sense it. What school of magic do you study?”

Kravitz stepped back to let Taako hop down, “Ah, I haven’t studied a lot, if I’m honest. I’ve never had a magical tutor of any kind, just my...just my mistress.”

That did give Taako pause, though he covered it with busying himself at the mixing bowl. Innate magic was a rare thing, not taken from any book or school but from the user’s own blood. It had a reputation for being incredibly powerful but, as a side effect, very unstable. Unstable wasn’t exactly the word Taako would use to describe his new neighbour but he had to wonder what had come first and what had followed, out of his wardship to the countess and this newly mentioned magic.

“Lucky,” he finally said, playing it off lightly as always, “All my lessons were painfully boring.”

Kravitz gave a soft, easy laugh, though he’d clearly been watching very carefully for Taako’s reaction.

Usually Lup was the only person ever allowed in the kitchen while Taako worked and even then she risked a slap with a wooden spoon if she got in the way. But seeing as this was a lesson of sorts, Taako swallowed his usual protective bossiness and gave Kravitz odd tasks to do, carefully talking him through the steps for each one.

And each and every time, he regretted it.

“I think you were a little hasty when you said you’d starve in a day,” Taako eventually snorted in exasperation, “I don’t think you’d make it until the early afternoon.”

Kravitz, now wearing a grey suit rather than the black one he’d entered with after the sack of flour he’d dropped had ignored his aesthetic, gave him a wounded look, “I could eat stale biscuits from the pantry…”

“The second you’d touch them, dear, they’d probably spontaneously combust.”

Kravitz’s hurt pantomime cracked and he gave a bark of laughter, “Fine, I’m hopeless. But I tried and, therefore, I should still get some of the spoils.”

Taako smiled at the neat tray of seven perfectly round balls and four misshapen blobs of cookie dough. Even with operating around a one man disaster zone, they hadn’t done a bad job. Sure there was flour piling up in drifts on the floor and it had taken them two sets of mixture after Kravitz had poured buttermilk into one rather than actual milk but he had a good feeling about them.

“Sure, I’ll take pity on you.”

In the fifteen minutes they took to bake, they magically cleaned the kitchen and sat talking, drinking the last of the now lukewarm coffee and eating madeleines. Despite some careful questioning, Taako learned very little about Kravitz in that time. Just that he’d been working for the family business in the city and had a passion for music almost as precious to him as Taako’s love of cooking. Still, the conversation was as light and comforting as any he’d had with his sister or friends, in a way Taako just hadn’t thought was possible.

Almost as if the gods had known he’d needed a friend right now and had dropped one on his doorstep.

It was evening by the time Taako had Kravitz back on the doorstep with a basket full of still warm, still delicious smelling nut cookies and madeleines. He was still apologising about having to leave, saying his mistress would be expecting him back before eight.

Taako shook his head, “I told you, it’s fine. I’ll come see you next time, you can show me some of your pieces.”

Kravitz’s cheeks seemed to colour a bit, “Really? You’d be interested in that?”

“I made you cookies,” Taako leaned in the doorway and smiled crookedly, “I’m going to need something in exchange.”

They both laughed companionably at that, though there was something more serious in Kravitz’s expression afterwards.

“I had a really good time today, Taako. I’m glad I came over.”

Taako shifted, not liking the way that comment made butterflies wake up in his stomach, as nice as the words were, “Sure thing. It’s nice to have friends, right?”

Something changed in his expression then, something Taako couldn’t place in the second it was there before disappearing. A hesitation of some kind.

“Yes. It is nice to...to have friends.”

After exchanging goodnights, Taako watched Kravitz walk off into the gathering dusk, quickly becoming invisible as the sun disappeared behind the hills. He found himself nursing a small smile.

Even if it had been the last time he ever got to be himself, it had been a pretty good last time.

[myhockeyworld87]

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 5

Requested: No

Word Count: 2838

Warning: Not really anything, maybe cursing at this point I think I at least use one swear word in if not more..haha

POV: Tyler

Notes: The next couple pieces are a bit fluffy. Currently working on Part 7, Part 6 will be up later this week. Also interested in maybe working on another piece, if anyone has any recommendations.

You were going to be a dad; it was the first thought that popped into your head as you opened your eyes. Though why that surprised you, you can’t be certain; as it was the last one you had before you fell asleep. What had transpired last evening was like something out of a movie. Never in a million years had you expected (Y/N) to tell you she was pregnant! That she loved you, you hoped; that you should go to hell was more likely. But never that she was carrying your baby.

It was crazy how when you heard the news; all the doubts you had about being a good father, good husband had just vanished out the window. When she uttered those words all you could think about was; is she ok, is the baby ok, only their well-being mattered. In that moment you realized that your passion for hockey waned in comparison to your need to protect them, care for them, and most of all love them. If you could have only known this three months ago. There was no changing the past now; you needed to work towards the future, a future with (Y/N) and your unborn child.

 That meant getting your ass out of bed, going to morning skate and start playing like you deserved the eight-year contract you just signed. With renewed hope, you hauled yourself to the kitchen to feed the dogs and yourself. Making yourself a healthy breakfast you caught yourself singing along to the radio playing in the background. It was the first time in months you’d actually felt alive.

 Entering the arena, a tad late, you bolted onto the ice; whizzing around getting your skating legs underneath you. The drills that had only just days ago seem mundane and useless, now skated with renewed precision. Working with your line; passes were crisper, shots perfectly placed. Taking aim at the net, you brought your stick back, cracking the puck and letting it soar past Bishop, into the net. God it felt good. “That a boy, Seggy,” Monty finally being able to cheer you on. The hour flew by, faster than when you were five-years-old; thinking it had only been ten minutes. You were last off the ice, taking a few extra practice shots before heading into the locker room. By the time you entered most of your teammates had left, a few lingered; but you sensed Jamie stayed on purpose.

 Once everyone else had taken leave Jamie finally came up to you. “So, I take it things went well last night?” He had known you were going to the charity event in hopes to see (Y/N). While he didn’t entirely approve of your methods, he was rooting for the two of you to reconcile.

 “I wouldn’t put it that way exactly. But we’re making progress.”

 “Wanna talk about it?” Needing to rehash some of last night, you nodded. Staff still milled around, and it was not a discussion that you needed everyone hearing. “I’ve gotta drop this shit off at my house then I’ll be over.” People didn’t give Jamie enough credit; he was an excellent captain, always knowing what his fellow teammates needed, always handling things with digression.

Packing up you headed back to your place; the short ride giving you time to re-evaluate. Jamie pulled in almost immediately behind you. Making coffee you began to recount your night. “I put her through hell Chubbs. You have no idea.”

 “I’m sure things haven’t been easy for her.”

 “That’s putting it mildly. The beginning of the night was an all-out battle. She doesn’t trust me, and I can’t blame her.” You described all the details of what transpired to Jamie, how she didn’t sleep for days, got dismissed from work, and finally how depression had overtaken her. There was just one last thing to mention; tiny as it might be in form, it was probably the biggest aspect of the night. “All that shit I put her through, but that wasn’t the worst thing. And, not that it’s a bad thing. Shit, I don’t even know how to say it. Or even if I should be.” Vaguely wondering who all (Y/N) had already told.

 “Segs I’m not going to say anything to anyone if that’s what you’re worried about. And trust me I’m not going to look at (Y/N) any differently.”

 “Well she’s gonna look differently.” Jamie just stared at you, your comment not making any sense at all. You had a feeling it was the look you had given when (Y/N) had said ‘we’re gone,’ last night. “She’s pregnant man, with my baby.” The possessiveness in you making you add that last part.

 “Fuck are you serious?”

 “Yeah, I was fucking stunned. And then of course I did the most stupid thing possible and asked if it was mine.”

 “Jesus, Tyler! You know that woman loves you. She would never cheat on you.” The fact that he just called you Tyler made you again realize how badly you’d screwed up last night.

 “Well it wouldn’t have been cheating, we weren’t together.” Jamie just shook his head at the stupidity of your statement. You’d tried to lessen the blow for yourself, by justifying your questioning. It rang hollow even to your ears. “You’re right I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking then. Anyway, she’s like fifteen weeks along. I would’ve thought she’d be showing by then or something.”

 “Usually happens around like twelve or sixteen weeks on a first pregnancy. Everyone’s different though” Your quizzical expression had him following up that statement. “What, my sister just had a baby, I know some shit.”

 “Well then you’re gonna teach me. I came home last night and ordered a bunch of books on Amazon.” Admittedly you might have gotten carried away downloading them all; there was, Dad’s Guide to Pregnancy for Dummies, Pregnancy: Put Yourself in her Shoes, We’re Pregnant, and Everything You Wanted To Know About Pregnancy But Were Too Afraid or Embarrassed to Ask. It was a little overwhelming, but you needed to prepare yourself. “I’m kind of at a loss on where to start.”

 Clapping you on the back, giving your shoulder a squeeze; Jamie encouraged you. “You’re gonna do great Seggy. I know my brother-in-law felt the same way, and now he’s a pro with my niece.”

 “Yeah, I hope I even get the chance. I need to get all this shit with (Y/N) figured out before the baby comes. Any ideas on how I can make that happen?”

 “Hmmm, I don’t know man. It needs to be big though. Like fucking fall on your knees beg for forgiveness type of shit.”

 “Thanks Captain Obvious. I know that already. I’ve already got flowers being delivered to her office on Monday, since I have no clue where she’s living at the moment.”

 “You need a god damn flower wall, not just a bouquet.” Jamie was right, you needed to think bigger. Something that said ‘I love you, I’m never leaving you, as well as I’ll never fucking cheat on you again, not even in a million years. That you couldn’t really buy a gift like that at the nearest mall, wasn’t lost on you. It needed to be something that showed her you were working towards your future together; moving on from past mistakes.

  Then like a light switch turning on a lamp; it hit you. “I got it!” excitement sounding in your voice. “A few weeks ago the realtor called. That house I’ve always wanted was coming on the market. (Y/N) and I have ridden past it a million times. We talked about buying it one day or building something like it. It has the perfect backyard for the dogs and kids. I’m gonna buy it, and give it to her. That is if it’s still for sale.” Getting the call weeks ago, you had dismissed the idea. That was your dream home, the place where you wanted to make your life with (Y/N); without her, at the time you just couldn’t even see contemplating it. Now, it was the perfect plan to show her where you wanted your lives to go.

 “I don’t know Segs. That seems a little….extreme.” You wouldn’t let Jamie’s reluctance sway you. “I was thinking more along the lines of like, couples’ therapy.”

 Flashing Jamie, a distasteful look, you grabbed your phone dialing the realtor’s number. A few quick questions and you set up a time tomorrow evening to view the home with (Y/N). Hanging up you gave Chubbs a pleased look. “This is gonna work man. I just feel it.”

 Continuing to shake his head at your strategy, Jamie got up to leave. “Look, I’m gonna head home and grab a nap before the game tonight. Just give it a little more thought before you follow this through. Would you Seggy?”

 “You just don’t get the beauty of it yet, Chubbs. Just wait you’ll see. I’ll talk to you tonight.” Walking him to the door, you glanced at your watch; (Y/N) should’ve called by now. Wordlessly you sent up a quick prayer that she wouldn’t back out. Throwing yourself on the couch, you watched time slowly tick by minute by painstaking minute. You let your mind drift to a time in the near future; you and (Y/N) walking into your new home, carrying a small little bundle in a car carrier. (Y/N) looked gorgeous as always, glancing down at the carrier you checked in on your new born; trying to determine if it was a boy or a girl. The ring on your phone brought you back from your imaginings. (Y/N)’s face appeared on the screen and you smiled to your empty living room.

 “Hey, babe.” It was an easy term of endearment that fell off your lips, after all the time the two of you had spent together.

 “Hey Ty. How was your morning skate?”

 This easy routine conversation felt like a million that you’d had before with her; one that you would have every time you were on the road. It was nice to feel some normalcy again. “Really great. I feel like tonight is going to be a good night for me, ya know.” You meant all those words, after practice you just had a renewed sense about the game.

 “That’s great Tyler. I’m glad you’re feeling better about hockey at least.”

 “I’m feeling better about a lot of things.” Unsaid words hung in the air. There was a long pause, as if she didn’t know what to say next and so to fill the void you added. “You wouldn’t want to come tonight, would you?”

 “Ummmm…I….Ummm…”you frowned knowing the answer she was trying to spit out; your brain already trying to work on a response. “I just don’t think I’d feel comfortable doing that yet Ty.”

 “Yeah sure, I completely understand. Plus, it’ll be noisy and loud, probably not good for the baby.” She laughed at that; the sound, music to your ears.

 “I think the baby can probably handle it, it’s got a lot surrounding it in there.”

 “Oh well, yeah…you’re probably right. Are you feeling ok today?” You hadn’t had a chance to discuss all the particulars with her; however, you’d read quickly last night that most morning sickness is over in the second trimester, which is where (Y/N) was at right now.

 “Yeah, baby and I are having a good morning.” You could almost hear the smile in her voice.

 “That’s great hun. You know we haven’t talked a lot about things, I mean where the baby’s concerned. I realized that when I was talking to Jamie.”

 Screaming into the phone at you, she yelled, “You told Jamie I’m pregnant!?!”

 Clearly this was another obvious mistake on your part; this was not the direction you wanted the conversation to go. You’d had enough screaming and yelling last night. “Um…Yeah. I didn’t think it’s that big of deal. I mean your friends know right?”

 “No Tyler, I haven’t fucking told a sole.” This said in a much softer voice. You hadn’t really given any real credence to her not telling anyone; automatically assuming her friends had this knowledge. After all they were the ones who had taken her to the doctor’s office in the first place.

 “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just thought…well since they took you and all.” It was yet another apology you were having to make to her.

 “No…It’s fine. I should’ve said something last night. I’m sorry I yelled.” Her regret at least showed you were making some headway.

 “Babe, why haven’t you told anyone?” It was a small question and one you wanted answered. Waking up this morning you were bubbling with excitement about the news, wanting to share it. That she had kept this secret from all those she loved for three weeks, was almost unfathomable.

 A long pause prefaced her answer. “I…Ummm…I don’t know Ty. I’m scared.” The last part barely a whisper.

 You knew that giving birth could be a scary time for a woman; hell, you had a feeling that when the time came, you would never know fear like you would in that moment. Already the baby and (Y/N) meant so much to you, and you hadn’t even known for twenty-four hours. Reassuring her, you spoke. “I know it can be scary hun, but we’ll get through this, together.”

 “I think that’s what I’m scared about Ty, the together part. Like I just don’t know.” Couldn’t she realize the life the three of you would have; correction six with the dogs. It would be almost out of a storybook. Lazy summer Sundays at the lake, where you’re laying in the grass, the baby between you. Taking them home after a victory. Hell, you’d already had a crystal-clear image of more kids to come. Knowing your sins of the past, weren’t quite forgiven yet, wasn’t an obstacle you would let get in the way of all that.

 “(Y/N), I know we have a long road ahead of us, but you’ve got to know; no got to believe, we are going to get through this. I promise you.” It was a promise you would continue to make, until she knew it deep in her bones.

 “I wish I could be as certain as you.”

 “We’ll get there, babe. You’ll see.” Silence ensued after that comment, but it wasn’t a bad thing. Your arms ached wanting to hold this woman in them right now and just reassure her. After a moment, you steered the conversation elsewhere. “So, I was kind of hoping that maybe tomorrow after work we could spend some time together. I’ve got something I need to show you.”

 Grateful for the change, she answered, “Really, what’s that?”

 “Oh no, you’re not going to ruin the surprise. You’ve just got to wait and see. So, can I pick you up about seven?”

Finally relenting with a, “Yeah, sure. I’ll text you my new address.”

 It was a step you didn’t think she would take, that she did, had your heart soaring. “Excellent!”

 “Oh, I forgot to tell you. The appointment on Tuesday is at four in the afternoon. Did you want to meet me there or go together?”

 Was this really a question, you could only imagine the stares, you would receive walking in to an OB/GYN office by yourself. “Honestly, I’d feel a bit weird walking in there by myself. Could I pick you up at the office or wherever you’re going to be and we’ll go together?”

 The light chuckle she gave, told you she already knew your reply. “I had a feeling. And yes, I’ll probably be at work; so, if you wouldn’t mind coming there, that would be great.” Plans made for the next few days, your adrenaline was pumping; knowing that you’d get to see her two days in a row. “I should probably let you get a nap; you’ve got a big game.”

 Frowning, time was always too short with her. You longed for those days when she would be around constantly; sharing naps with you. Sighing, you knew that time would come soon enough. “Yeah, I probably should. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven, maybe we could grab something to eat too. Gotta keep you two healthy.” It was also an ulterior motive to be around her longer.

 “Sounds good. Have a good game Ty.”

 “Thanks, babe. I love you.” The last part automatically coming out of your mouth, but the words were always true. Silently you willed her to say them back.

 “Me too.” It wasn’t exactly the response you were looking for, but then again, she didn’t hang up on you either. Laying the phone down on the table; you focused on what tomorrow would bring, closing your eyes, dreaming of all the possibilities that your future held with (Y/N) by your side.

[cynnied-writes]

Perfect Imperfections

○ paring: kralsei ( kris x ralsei )

○ genre/warnings: pure unadulterated fluff with a bit of angst

○ tags: sunrises | worrying over dates | imperfection | early morning drives | sitting on mountaintops | sweet kisses | sun showers

○ word count: 3.5k

→ summary: ralsei is coming to visit and, after days of deliberation, kris knows exactly where to bring him.

○  note: so this is the kralsei thing I said I was working on over on @cynnied-art. I hope you enjoy!

Kris’ hometown was a barren land of clinical depression and midlife crises. Filled to the brim with literally nothing to do.

And yes, they’ve checked.

All you can do is; eat at the diner, hang out in the school’s playground, stare at the lake for hours… Get a concussion? Soon realize that, in the grand scheme of the universe, nothing you do will ever matter? Oh, there’s also a pizza place that doesn’t technically even serve pizza.

This is the bad place if you were wondering.

For Kris, this was all common knowledge. They had known this since they were twelve. And yet here they were. Still sitting at their computer. Bathed in the pale, artificial glow of the screen at 5 am in the morning. Trying to find something, anything, to do. But, after wasting their finite time on the interwebz, a realization dawned on them. Their search was, in fact, fruitless.

They let out an extended groan. Slumping into their computer chair at the sight of the miles of empty space on Google Maps. This was hopeless. They lived in a tiny town. A tiny town in the middle of nowhere. With the closest city being three long hours away. And if they spent one more minute looking at a screen their eyes would die. 

A softer sigh fell as they pushed away from the desk. Kris stretched as they stood up on wobbly legs. Their bones popping back into place. They exhaled dramatically. Ending the exaggerated motion slouched over like an exhausted Sim.

This was so lame. SO LAME!

Their boyfriend was coming tomorrow and they had nothing special planned. All because of their stupid, boring hometown. Sure, they could laze around on the monkey bars again. Share another milkshake at the diner? Or you know, contemplate the meaning of life for a couple of hours. For the second time. Ralsei wouldn’t mind. But that’s the reason for all the mounting stress.

He wouldn’t care. He’d be happy to spend time with them. The duo could be in the ninth ring of hell and he’d still say it was a pretty good date. He’ll never expect any more than their simple presence. He’s just so…

Perfect.

Too perfect.

And Kris wasn’t. 

Their legs were too long. Hair’s too shaggy. Mannerisms too odd. Mind and soul too fucked up. The immediate willingness to eat moss off a dungeon floor kinda solidified that.

And, yet…

Ralsei still smiled at them with eyes filled with galaxies. Blushed whenever he caught them gazing. Said words that only held a genuine affection. Sang them the kinds of songs only Disney princesses sang to their true loves.

His words might stutter or his lyrics might be on the cheesy side but, man…

These trips to the surface he makes… to visit them? To visit a creepy, loner that could barely hold a conversation? In their mind, there was no other option. His visits had to be special. 

Kris’ feet dragged across their bedroom floor. A hundred percent ready to crash into bed. They shuffled before a strand of light caught them by surprise. Not taking in that tomorrow was now today.

The bright beam stung as Kris ran to close the curtains. Their hands paused, though. Gripping the rough fabric, they peered through the gap between them.

Orange and pink hues blended in the early morning sky. Contrasting against the shadowed tree line, the sun slowly rose. Its rays stretching across the horizon.

Any hint of drowsiness they had slipped into the background. Their soul lost its usual burdensome weight at the sight. Memories from a time almost forgotten reemerged in Kris’ mind.

Sitting high up. So high, it felt like they were in another world. Looking off into the distance. The same orangish colours surrounded them. Cool breezes brought golden leaves with them. Warmth seeped from the knitted scarf around their neck. Warmth seeped from the loved ones who were near. 

Everything was… perfect.

Oh.

In that moment, as they stared out of their window, enchanted by the sunrise, they knew.

They just knew. This was the view Ralsei deserved to see.The two teens snuck out of Kris’ home shy of twenty-four hours later.

The two teens snuck out of Kris’ home shy of twenty-four hours later.

With hands interlocked and fog all around them, they made their way across town. The sharpness of the air filled their noses. They kept their voices hushed and footsteps quick. Up above them the navy blue blanket of the night began to brighten. Slowly changing shades in the sky above.

Ralsei let a yawn escape him.

A few moments ago his steady had the honour of waking his tired form. Though the gesture was as old as time, a heroic knight waking a sleeping princess, this time it wasn’t with a kiss. His knight’s methods involved things like poking his side and harsh whispers. Not exactly fairy tale material but accuracy is a small price to pay.

Especially because he got to experience the wondrous things that are sleepovers. Sleeping in Kris’ room. Sleeping in Kris’ bed. Hogging all the blankets because they smell like sunshine. Kris didn’t seem to appreciate that last one. But, they also didn’t appreciate nice smelling sheets like he did.

Although, one caveat dampened the experience a bit. They had to forgo the “sleeping-in” part of a sleepover. No waking up to strands of light coming from the curtains. No smell of breakfast drifting from downstairs.

Nope, only waking up before the sun was even awake and sneaking through the streets. Like a couple of rapscallions.

Guess he still had much to learn.

Their feet finally crunched on fallen leaves as Kris brought him to the Flower King. Or rather, the side of it. His steady let go of his paw, using their spare hand to rummage through their inventory pockets.

Earlier in the day, Kris had waltzed into their father’s shop. Locked in loaded with a puppy-dog grin and years of unused “child of divorce” brownie points. They also maybe over-exaggerated their driving abilities a bit.

Okay, maybe a lot.

But, nonetheless, his truck would be back in its spot before 9 am and in the exact way he left it. As promised. Most likely. As long as they didn’t have to parallel park at any point.

With a startling beep, their father’s truck unlocked. The duo got in and tried to settle into their seats. Both a bit nervous about the endeavour. Kris more about the actual act of driving and Ralsei about the defiance.

He sank into the worn, leather seats as he began to worry. It was one of his oldest pastimes. His thoughts endlessly spinning worse and worse outcomes of his current situation.

This excursion couldn’t end well, right? There were a thousand different ways it could all go wrong.

Before he could spiral down any further, Ralsei jumped out of his thoughts as the old truck burst to life. The engine began to rumble. All the tiny lights and icons along the dash started flickering. While the soothing tones of John Denver drifted through the radio.

“Are you sure about this, Kris?”

They glanced up from adjusting the driver’s seat height to their size instead of their father’s. They tilted their head as a simple reply.

“Kriiiiiss.” He scolded, understanding their unspoken sentiment. It’s not like he didn’t know they were a teen of few words before they had started dating.

Continuing their silence, Kris’ head only tilted further. Resembling a ninety-degree angle instead of one belonging to a proper steady. Ralsei sighed, “You know what I mean. There’s no way your mother’s going to be okay with this.”

A shrug for a reply.

“How about we go for breakfast at the dinner from the second time I came? Those checkered things we had were pretty tasty. Waffles, right?”

A small grimace, this time.

“Or how about that strange P‘e’zza place? I’ve never had ice pizza before.”

“You’ve never had any kind of pizza before,” Kris said, their voice filled with confusion and disgust. So, now their words came out. Of course. They continued to mutter, “You’re first pizza isn’t gonna be a goddamn Ice P‘e’zza. Not while I’m still breathing.”

Ralsei flashed a small smile as he put his paws up in defence. Soft chuckles falling from his lips.

“It’s just…” He barely said before his sentence trailed off. Gaze turning to the sleeping world outside of his window. Kris reached over to take his paw and intertwined their fingers. Urging him to continue. “I don’t want to cause a fuss, Kris. I don’t want to… Your mother’s going to be so upset if she finds out. She’s going to punish you for an eternity. She’s going to—”

“Be ecstatic.” They said, drawing intricate circles into his fur. “I’m with ‘friends’, remember? She won’t mind.”

“That excuse isn’t going to work forever.”

Kris’ hand lingered with his as their head settled forwards. Staring off into the foggy woods. Easily drifting into deep thought.

Sure, it was a matter of when and not if their mother would ever figure out what was going on. No doubt. There was only so long she could believe whatever she wanted to believe. But, that day wasn’t today and thus that was a problem for future Kris, not them.

That kid’s fucked.

Themselves on the other hand? Present Kris? They had something spectacular to show their lonely prince. No strict rules or possible eternal damnation was going to stop them.

“Don’t worry, Rals.” They drawled as they took their prince’s fluffy face into their hands. “Future Kris’ got it handled.”

Now it was Ralsei’s turn to do the head tilting. His words coming out as jumbled as the thoughts in his head.

“Future Kri—What do you—? Futur—? Are you—?” He almost finished a single thought before Kris ducked under his hat and gently kissed his cheek.

They pulled back, flashed him a quick finger-gun-smirk combo, and put the truck into reverse. Letting out a chuckle as his love pulled up his scarf and down his hat. Hopelessly trying to cover his blush.

His steady was weird. A good kind of weird, though.

One that urged them to word for word recite the passage ‘Alas, Poor Yorick’ for no reason. The kind that allowed them to remember the rules to a satanic ritual but not the order of operations. A special kind of weird that caused them to resign to shackle themselves to a dungeon wall and eat floor moss.

They were all things he loved about them but, they were weird nonetheless.

Don’t get him wrong, he’s eternally grateful for Kris falling that day. He thanks the pillar of darkness every day. But, it’s just that any kind of kisses from them was so overwhelming. The simple act causing his cheeks to match his scarf’s hue. Though, he never complained because they also always calmed him like magic.

Why was being in love was so complicated?

Luckily, it was less complicated than driving. Of which the basic mechanics were entirely lost to him.

The truck jostled along the dirt road. Its headlights the illuminating the surrounding foggy woods as they went.

Kris’ knuckles had turned white a few miles back. Changing shades as they had turned off of paved streets and onto rougher terrain. Through their shaggy bangs, lidded eyes had never once deviated from the road. Perhaps they were being too cautious. Too wary. But, how could they not be? They were carrying the most precious cargo.

At just the thought of him, their eyes flicked to Ralsei curled up on his seat. Gaze settled outside his window. Intently watching the world rush by. Yawning every so often.

A small smile graced their face. They leaned back in their seat and released some of the tension in their fingers. Settling into a focused-yet-more-relaxed driving mode.

The road ahead got tighter as it began to curve. Letting them ‘round the side of one of Appalachia’s many mountains. Engine rumbling as they went. Luckily, for them, the truck had made this trip several times. Though they hadn’t been in the driver’s seat.

Glimpses of the past revealed themselves as their destination grew closer. A dozing Asriel sitting beside them. Eyes and head drooping as he fought back the dastardly enemy that was sleep. Their parents in the front seats, both humming along to the turned down the radio.

That’s when they saw it.

A nice patch of the mountainside overlooked valleys below. Tall, wild grass with flowers sprouting up in patches. They pulled up. Easing the truck to a full stop a couple meters from the optimal gazing spot.

Their whole body relaxed, finally. Head lolling back onto the headrest. Letting out a breath and closing their eyes. Knowing they made the trip here safely.

“We’re here?” Ralsei asked, yawning as his bones cracked while he stretched.

They threw him a lazy thumbs-up and clicked their tongue. Catching his yawn before holding out a hand, “Specs, please.”

His head and eyebrows cocked at their request. The urge to ask at least several questions rising in him. But, knowing Kris, they wouldn’t answer any of them.

With a sigh, he let the world turn blurry as he handed his glasses away. Soon after, scarred digits took a hold of his scarf, pulling it loose. Guiding it from his neck to cover his eyes. Before the world went dark as they tied a tight knot at the back.

Now, sound and touch were all he had to go on. Kris’ soft hum once they were finished tying. The clicks of their seat belts unbuckling and the whirring of them gliding back into place. A thunk as their door of the truck swung open. Another as his side opened.

Their hands guiding him out of the vehicle and over to an unknown spot. The dewy grass under his paws and roundness of the air. And finally, the familiar weight of his glasses returning.

He blinked once and then twice before his jaw dropped.

A golden world awaited him.

The sky he had fawned over weeks prior seemed so much more expansive. Stretching from the ends of the earth, blanketing everything around them in a warm hue. Streaks of orange, red, and yellow danced along it. Like a painter’s brush strokes. All independent at times. Before blending together to make the wondrous painting in front of him. Light, fluffy clouds lazily drifted across the background.

And in the center of it all?

A thing, once upon a time, he’d never thought he’d get to see.

The Lightners’ brightest star.

No, it was his too now.

Their brightest star. Their most prized possession rose from the horizon. Slowly but surely making its way to its throne in the heavens. Lighting up their little corner of the world. Not that he could quite remember it wasn’t just him and the celestial body. No, as he gazed upon the sun and a wave of serenity washed over him, it felt like there was no one else left on Earth.

Wait, there was someone else with them.

Ralsei pulled his sight away from his new friend to his real-life company. His silent knight.

Kris sat close beside. Their form bathed in the rays as they sprawled out in the tall grass. Golden light illuminating their whole body. Creating a god-like glow around them. At last, they seemed to be at peace. Then, as their head lolled back, their long bangs fell to either side. Revealing the gems they kept hidden from the world.

An occurrence rarer than any blue moon.

Maroon irises admired the painting before them. They were filled with something he couldn’t quite place. Contentment? Amazement? Nostalgia? Whatever it was, when their eyes drifted from the sunrise over to him, it was still there.

Oh…

Perhaps it was love.

He still had to come to terms with that fact. That somebody alive and sentient loved him. Somebody as wonderful as Kris loved a wreck like him. A tiny ball of nerves and anxiety. Terrified of falling too fast and too hard. Being too needy. Too much much of a bother. Being too… everything. And not being what Kris needed.

But,

They never seemed to mind.

They always were an attentive listener to all his rambling but, always knew the right time to stop him. Lest he enters a perpetually downward spiral.

They were one hundred percent willing to become the hero that he needed. Not questioning ludicrous, reality breaking implications for anything he told them.

And when they were ready, Kris would talk for hours.

About stories from when they were younger.

Barely believable conspiracy theories.

Loosely connected thoughts stringed together profoundly.

They were just so perfect.

And this, the sneaking out in the early morning, the quiet drive, and the sunset. It was all just so…

Perfect.

Kris reached out and laced their fingers together again. Pulling him out of his thoughts. Right on time as always. They gazed at him with, his throat tightened, love-filled eyes. Their usual neutral expression replaced with upturned lips and those softened gems.

Oh, darkness, don’t cry.

Don’t cry, Ralsei.

Don’t cry.

Don’t—

Dammit.

“Kris,” He choked out as tears began to well. They threatened to fall and ruin this perfect moment. Kris’ perfect moment for him. No, he had to pull himself together. “This is, this is. It’s…”

Yep, stuttering is a surefire sign of someone who’s totally not on the verge of a breakdown. So embarrassing. SO EMBARRASSING!

“Rals,” They began softly. Eyes squinting as they searched for the right words. “It’s… okay. Tears of joy, right? It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Not helping. Not helping at all.

“Oh, damn it all.” He cursed as he mustered up all the courage he had. Within the second, he bounded over to his steady. His beloved hat falling to the wayside as he wrapped his arms around them. Burrowing his nose into their neck. Inhaling their piney scent as he blurted out, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The two stayed like that for a while. Enjoying each other’s body heat and tight holds. But, all good things must come to an end. And this good thing ended once he pulled back. Quickly realizing their current position.

His arms rested linked on their shoulders as he sat in their lap. And with their hands settled on his hips, their bodies were close.

Super close.

Close enough for a… kiss?

Yes, Kris thought as their hand made its way up to his cheek. Close enough to stare into his galaxies for eyes. Close enough to breathe the same air. Close enough for his head to block out the morning sun. Creating a glowing halo around him.

Definitely close enough.

Also, definitely a perfect way to punctuate their date.

But, alas,

Mother Nature had another idea in mind.

“Was that a raindrop?” Ralsei blinked and shook the excess wetness off of his snout. He rose from their lap to scan the horizon. Brows furrowed as he adjusted his glasses, “But, there aren’t any clouds?”

Despite the obvious lack of cloud coverage, rain began to pour down on them.

Kris, reluctantly, got to their feet. Their fingers ran through their messy brown locks as they closed their eyes. At least they got their sunrise.

With a deep sigh, they called out to their love, “We… should get back. Sorry about this.”

“Why?” Their eyes shot open at his question. That’s when they saw him. Spinning around on the balls of his feet as his giggles resounded through the air. His arms swung and legs kicked as he jaunted around the field. “This is amazing! How weird is this! Raining while the sun’s still shining! I’ve never heard of this. What is this, Kris?”

Oh.

My.

God.

He wasn’t upset?

“Sun showers,” They answered like a ditz. Their mind still running wild. Trying to comprehend how he could be this happy about it raining on their perfect date. “They, uh, happen sometimes. You don’t want to go?”

“No! I love it!” Hat long forgotten, he ran up to them, eyes a glow. Hands outstretched until they intertwined with theirs. “Dance with me!”

It was less of a question and more of a demand, not that they minded though. With all his might, Ralsei swung them around the wild grass. Dancing something between the waltz and a folksy jig. Loudly humming out a familiar tune. Soon, their laughs joined his humming. Until both faded and only the gentle beats of the rain were left.

They were close once more.

Super close.

Now or never.

Kris straightened their back and cleared their throat before asking, “Do you, maybe, want to—”

“Yes.” He cut them off, a look of pure unadulterated love on his face.

And then, they did it.

They kissed.

It technically wasn't a perfect kiss. The rain continued to beat down. Their now soaked clothes uncomfortably clung to their bodies. His fur wasn’t as soft and fluffy as it usually was. It was more damp and kinda spiky. Their skin somehow felt sweaty and tight. But,

None of that mattered.

Nope. Not to them.

Somehow, like everything else about the two of them, it was perfect.

Perhaps, their imperfections were what’s perfect.

At least to them.

And in the end, isn’t that the only thing that matters?

The End!!

I hope you've enjoyed reading this. If you did, any kind of comment would be appreciated! 

I've been working on it for a loooong time. Just glad it's all finished! Finally, I'm free!

[courtorderedcake]

Hallow : ch IV - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Read on AO3 here.

Ch 4 / ?? - In which Emma hears Liam and Elsa's tale

    Ingrid, Elsa, and Anna wasted no time at all, Emma appearing in the shop front slightly past noon. The older ladies buying bread and a teenage boy carrying several boxes of pastries noticed her first, their eyes snapping to the door she came from. The teenager made a noise between a wheeze and a gulp as the old women tutted, causing Killian to look up with his ever permanent annoyance. The smile under the loose waves of her hair was shy, and in the sundress of coral and cream, Emma was a captured ray of sunshine. Or she would be, if the smile reached her tired and slightly puffy eyes.

  They walked to the park together, Killian’s annoyance tempered by her fascination with everything in the many touristy shop fronts. She marveled at stones and crystals that were marked as magical, whispering how clever they were if they'd gotten them right, and how sneaky they were if they tried to trick others. In another shop she questioned a well meaning sales clerk about corduroy and a peculiar blouse with capped sleeves that read ubiquitously, "Summer of Love", asking what other summers they observed. 

  When the shop clerk laughed her off, Emma shrugged and joined in. People loved her instantly, as if they had known her their entire lives; the Fae thrall of old that she unknowingly employed was a matter of charisma, combined with her natural beauty, an unerring grace, and her rapturous attention on every word spoken to her. Killian watched her in fascination as well, the Darkness puzzling over their observations. Emma shot him a happy grin, but beneath it was a foundation of the old world decorum that he had once adhered to religiously - she was weary, and the cracks in her undetectable armor were there. There was no reason for her to be doing this, he realized, especially with him of all people. It was a facade, and a very well polished one. 

  Moving to pull her away, they escaped from a store front caller who had been talking to her about the "future of sound" that was coming on eight different tracks, a large, flat, black circle in his hand. Killian could feel her sway towards him in gratitude, bumping him to the side. As sudden as her playfulness was in the gentle push, her mask was back up as they entered the gates of the park. 

  It took Emma all of four minutes to raise his hackles. He'd forgotten about the bloody fountain; one second she was by his side, then the next she was wading into the coin filled bottom of the pool, a geyser shooting from rocks above her. 

"What the seven hells are you doing?" he’d called sharply over the roar of the water. Emma shrugged kicking a bit of water at him, looking for a minute absolutely impishly spiteful. "Just who are you, Swan? What sort of princess goes wading into fountains, especially those most definitely used for decor?" 

  She glared at him, but it was tempered by tiredness. "Wouldn't you like to know."

  Perhaps . 

  "Perhaps I would, darling." 

  She hummed for a moment, watching another geyser shoot towards the sky. "I am not your love, or your darling." Emma fumed, eyes cast down at her feet, her face falling fractionally, allowing only the tiniest slip of her mask to happen quickly before she wiped water from her face with a pressed on smile. Anger gone, forced down to be forgotten behind thick walls. 

  Picking up a few more coins as she made her way back to him, she examined them in her palm. "These coins feel like… Are they enchanted?" 

  Killian shook his head, looking at a silver coin with the engraving 1967. "They're wishes."

  Emma's eyes lit up brightly, and before he could stop her, Emma dipped a finger in the water. Several bubbles rose around coins, popping in a burst of pink sparkles. 

  "Do not use your magic -" he hissed, lunging forward into the water, eyes wild. 

  "Stop worrying, old man. I used only a tiny bit of magic. I only granted wishes for people who are here, and ones that wouldn't take a lot of power. A tiny bit will be fine."

  She had to be insane, wet from the fountain and laughing at him, her walls as high as ever. 

  "No -" A bubble the size of a hippo floated past. "Bloody hell -" 

  “Isn't this what humans do here? Have fun in the park?” Her smile was pure happiness and joy, as bright as the midday sun. 

  He thought back to Milah, Elsa, Anna, and their schoolmates in ladies’ refinement courses. There had been a turn of phrase they parroted: 'Fake it until you can make it'. 

  The Darkness wasn't the only one perplexed by her willingness to push her other emotions down, at least; Killian found it vexing in its own right. Moreover, he hated that it reminded him of Milah, like a stab to the charcoal lump that had once been his heart. 

  “They don't wade into fountains, or do magic in front of unsuspecting passersby. They walk or read a book -”

  “Show me, then!” Emma grabbed his hand. Instantaneously, two things happened within him, both unsettling. First, the Darkness shrunk back like a wild animal, practically spitting. Secondly, and more worrying, her touch lit something long buried that spread through his body, filling his chest with heat. Her magic pushed the Darkness down, while a sort of levity  flooded his veins in its place, as if someone had thrown open a window to let in fresh air - and he could breathe easier than he had in a long time. 

  When she stopped to pet a dog, letting go of him, the feeling didn't fade. Instead, her laugh as she watched the dog wag its tail fueled it, and he felt…

  “They don't talk here,” Emma murmured, leaving the dog's owner looking perturbed. “How peculiar.” She scratched under its chin, as Killian exchanged a nervous glance at the owner. 

  “Always joking, this one,” Killian laughed, trying to assuage the strange looks the owner gave them. Pulling Emma away, she spotted something else that caught her eye. She quickly led him through the dappled sunshine. 

  Following Emma around as she smelled flowers, describing the palace garden, or rolled down a grass hill, her laughter infectious, he felt a connection with her that he couldn't explain. Kinship due to nobility? Unlikely, and he hadn't been much of a noble in his own right. That was Liam, with his regimens and regiment, living up to long-standing expectations to fulfill the duties of their lineage. 

  When she reached for him, her hand outstretched and head cocked as the wind blew through her hair, he took it to test his theory. Resting his hand in hers she ran, pulling him across the park, the Darkness knotted itself up in hatred. It occurred to him that maybe she was sent by Ingrid to accompany him, some ploy in which to get them both away from the shop. It wasn't a bad plan at all, in retrospect. 

  All the while, even as it was caged, the Darkness puzzled at her actions. It squirmed in confusion as to why she was acting like she didn’t have a care in the world when it was obvious that her sadness and anger must lie right below the surface. Hiding her emotions with set shoulders, she blew raspberries at a baby that played in the grass near its parents, much to the small child's delight and the Darkness' displeasure. 

  In a secluded alcove off a deserted trail, she stepped barefoot into a meadow, letting flowers grow around her in the tall grass. Emma did cartwheels as people seemed to follow her, a group coming shortly to begin a drum circle, a small gaggle of girls making flower crowns, and another group doing cartwheels with Emma, their skirts all tucked in as much as possible. Even in its lessened noise, Killian could hear the ticking way the Darkness thought, and felt it grapple with hiding its ploys.

  They fed ducks, and she made him smile as she made sure the ducklings got their fair share of the cabbage they had bought. While most creatures stayed away from him, a quick glimpse in her direction showed a menagerie of water fowl, along with two peacocks, all vying for her attention. Even brightly colored fish nibbled at her toes and for a moment, it was easy to forget the turmoil her life was in, until she looked up and the light hit her just so. There was no denying that her pain was there, but well camouflaged; there was a familiarity to it that made Killian uneasy. The Darkness retreated further, a sure sign that it would be back with a vengeance later. If he had learned anything from years alone with it in his prison, it was that its quiet was never good news.

  A bubble blower showed her how to use a rope, and soon she'd created giant bubbles that chased the breeze in detailed, impossible shapes, the wish of a child that she had granted. A band performed in a pavilion, and Killian let her convince him to dance together for a song. She seemed skittish around other men without his company. 

  Killian tripped a few times, actually feeling shy with embarrassment and frustration when she winced at his attempts to lead. 

  “I'm sorry, it has been a while,” he mumbled. 

  “You're doing fine. This is fun, the music here is so wonderful!” Emma giggled in bubbly cheer, but her eyes were somewhere else. 

  The song continued, and he found his footing, leading her with ease. Emma floated in his arms, sundress flaring out beneath the hand resting at her waist with each turn about the plaza. She seemed to drift away into her thoughts for a moment, enjoying a simple waltz. 

  Another man interrupted and asked her to dance, but Killian found watching them brought another kind of heat that was unpleasant: something he’d almost call jealousy , if he didn’t know better. He didn't like the way the other man touched her, hands too low and his body too close to hers. The lewdness didn’t go unnoticed, and Emma removed his hand, whispering something that made the man quickly end their dance. If it rattled her, she only showed the slightest bit of distaste as she watched him walk away, her chin held slightly higher and fingers slowly relaxing from clenching. Her step was slower after, a little strain evident. 

  Interesting.

  Killian suggested they eat when she returned to him, his mood suddenly soured as she waved goodbye to the band and the man she had danced with disappeared back into the crowd.

  At a concession cart, he bought her some fairy floss and himself a dark chocolate ice cream.

  They sat on a bench, Emma greedily picking the candy floss from its cone, bare feet swinging like they itched to be back on the earth. The princess hadn't said much since the man had groped far too low for her comfort. The Darkness made its tentative play. 

  "So, how many suitors did you have?" he asked, ignoring the beginning of his ice cream’s melted trail down his fingers. “I mean, before all this…” He made a gesture with his hand.

  Emma looked at him doe-eyed.

  "Suitors?" she laughed incredulously, head turned to the side. "None, I am not even allowed to be courted by anyone, let alone having -"

  "So they don't just pair you off with someone in the court like you're chattel any longer?" He grinned when her lips thinned and her eyes slit into a glare.

  "No." She looked down at the giant colored monstrosity in her hands. "I don't suppose they do. If I'm honest… I'm glad for it. My experiences thus far with men have been…" She trailed off, picking at the fluff. 

  “I suppose I don’t see why your charming parents didn’t marry you off to some honor bound Lordling then. Let him get you with child. It would have sorted this mess right out.” He crossed his legs, looking up at the flowering bushes around them. Emma picked at the fluff further, refusing to look anywhere else. 

  “They want me - they wanted me to marry for love. Like they did. Just not until I was ready, until I was safe. Although people say their marriage was a matter of ending the war or joining the realms, they loved each other first. They want… wanted that for me. Just without the constant threat of danger.”

  “Want,” he gritted out on a laugh. The Darkness backed down, and Killian felt the tension within himself ease up . “They’ll be alright, Princess.” She pushed her hair back, and nodded without looking up. He was surprised at his desire to soothe her, but that impulse faded as the Darkness pushed back again.

  Don't give her sympathy. You owe her nothing; she should feel guilty. Soothing her? You're a pathetic, hapless, meager imbecile - she deserves the pain! 

  The breeze blew through where they sat, and neither spoke for some time. He broke the silence with quiet bitterness in his tone. “They most likely would have killed your husband anyway, I suppose. Goblins don’t really care about sacrament or love.”

  “I am sorry, truly. I -” She met his eyes, and he could see the sincerity. The Darkness in him wriggled under his skin and he looked away from her. “I don’t have words to say how truly sorry I am. You and Elsa both deserved happiness.” He felt his shoulders tighten, his body going taut. A warm hand touched his forearm, and he looked up to meet her eyes, the light of the summer sun making them viridescent. “You still deserve happiness. Dark One or not.” Sincerity underlined every word she spoke.

  The Darkness under his skin shrieked, repeating its song. 

  You are nothing, nothing, you deserve nothing, to be pulled into nothingness. You will never find happiness, you will live an eternity of nothing!

  Her thumb stroked gently, leaving the tiniest smear of pink from her sweet treat on his shirt. Everything was quiet except for the breeze, the birds around them, and the far off chatter of others in the park. He took a bite of his ice cream and she smiled thinly, pulling away and crossing her legs underneath her body.

  "If I could change what happened, if I could have stopped all of this, I would have done everything in my power. I'm sorry the war ruined so many lives. I'm sorry I didn't know," Emma whispered quietly, the paper cone in her hands picked clean. 

  He felt his lips upturn slightly, the ghost of a smile starting as they sat in the sun. The Darkness was quiet, outmaneuvered by the princess' unexpected kindness. 

  “It's really beautiful here. It's so much more vibrant than the palace, and I feel so much more…” The sun started to set, thick swirls of pink and purple melting into orange lined with gold in the sky as she searched for the right word. 

  “Free,” Killian finished. 

  The Darkness laughed inside his mind. 

  She looked up at him, her head cocked. “Yes. Free. I feel free.”

  The wind caught her hair and dress, making her laugh brightly. For him, it was a moment of strange lucidity and brought her into sharp focus: gentle curves, the soft Cupid's bow of her lips stained by sugar, long eyelashes that lay above blushing cheeks. The sea was a ways off, but he could smell the salty spray mixing with the warmed sugar. 

  “What would you do if you were king, Killian?” Emma asked softly, distracted, as her mind drifted no doubt to where her family lay. 

  He did not need to pause or think, the Darkness rising up to strike as he responded. “I would get revenge on everyone who ever crossed me.”

  Despite how roughly his voice came out, Emma didn't flinch, only turned to stare back at him - through him, really - in a way that made him feel small. Even the Darkness squirmed under her scrutiny, as if she could see the half truth there, the fear that drove this vessel, and how much omission lay in that vast fracture. 

  Emma touched his hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze, looking at him again with those eyes that saw far too much. “And after that?”

  Killian swallowed hard, unable to find words. 

  “Do you think… Do you think it gets easier over time, or harder?” she continued. “Do you think you learn how to stop feeling anything when you learn of atrocities, of people left behind, of people forgotten, of the hurt and of the people who set out to hurt you? How do you ever reconcile it all? Because I can’t - I can’t - ” Emma stood, taking a deep breath and walking stiffly to throw the fairy floss cone away. When she returned, the smile was back and firmly in place.

  “Are you alright, love?”

  She nodded, and he waited for her retort on his pet name. The desire to push her simmered to a boil, and he pressed her again. 

  "To answer your question: you don't forget. Actions have consequences, regardless of if they are necessary or of whether they look good on paper. Regardless of how you push them away by hiding in your palace, you don't forget or reconcile.” Abruptly, his understanding evaporated as the Darkness seized control once more. “Is the real world outside of your fairytale not living up to expectations, darling? A bit too much? Hm, love?" His tone turned mocking in its faux concern, but she only stiffened further, her fists balling and then unclenching as she let out a breath. 

  When no retort came as a response to his provocation, he threw his melted ice cream away, their silence in view of the sun’s last rays following them home. 

Emma retreated to her room immediately upon their return, brushing past Elsa and Anna on her way up the stairs. Anna followed shortly after, calling her name, while Elsa just rolled her eyes, smiling slightly at Killian.

“What, did you make her cry again?” she asked sarcastically. 

  “I may have.” Killian grinned, stretching to look up the stairs, Anna staring back while giving him an angry glare. “She deserved it though if I did. She asked the most bloody ridiculous questions before we left -”

Ingrid’s voice came from behind them, icy and unamused. “Like what?”

  Elsa froze, but Killian chuckled lightly. “Are you going to lecture me if I tell you, Ingrid?”

  Ingrid stepped closer, standing toe to toe with him, a clear challenge in her stature. “No. I wouldn’t waste my breath if I had to lecture you after I specifically asked you to act with some humanity for a few hours. I’d expect you would know what bad form was without needing a lecture. So, what did she say to you?”

  Killian’s jaw muscles clenched, and the two glared at one another. He scrubbed a hand over his face, letting it rest between them in the air as he started talking. “She asked me what I would do if I were king, and I told her I’d get my revenge on anyone who ever crossed me and the Darkness. She asked what I’d do after and when I didn’t answer, she asked if it gets easier for things. I didn’t answer that, so she walked off.”

  “If what gets easier?” Elsa asked, no longer amused.

  “I don’t bloody know, tons of things, the whiny brat.” Killian shrugged. 

  “What exactly did she ask, Killian?” Ingrid repeated, her low voice like gravel against glass.

  “She asked if it gets easier or harder to rule when you lose people, and if you learn to stop having emotion about it. Then she kept saying, ‘I can’t do this!’ and walked away after I asked if this was not up to her expectations. What was I supposed to say, that like her magical fairytale castle life, it will be easy again? Let her suffer for a while. Let her feel the vice grip of reality.”

  “You foul, rude, son of a bitch. What would your brother say?” Ingrid hissed, pushing past him to run up the stairs, the door of Emma’s room slamming shut behind her. 

  Elsa sat on the staircase in shock at Ingrid’s rebuke. Killian only grimaced and chuckled darkly. “Well, that’s an interesting way to thank me for keeping her out of your hair all day. What would Liam say? Probably that she should grow up, or that she sent him to his death.”

“Do you really have nothing else you’d do as a king but seek revenge?” Elsa asked quietly. 

  “Oh, come on now, love. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous. Do you know how hard it was for me when I didn’t know if Liam was dead or alive? When we didn’t know if anyone survived at all besides us? With death you can at least gain closure. I waited for decades for our family, for Liam, for you without this hatred -”

  Killian scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s not hatred. I tolerate the princess because I have to. Make no mistake, though, I’m not making these ‘fun’ little day trips and tolerating this cohabitation by any sort of choice.”

  “It’s a choice to blame her for Milah, who I haven’t seen you mourn or mention besides to compare to Liam and I. Like we weren’t anywhere as devoted to each other. Like I should want you to rip Emma apart, just because she can get you this built up idea of your revenge -”

“You don’t understand - the war is her fault, her family's fault. Without the war, we'd have - "

  "Killian, I can't imagine how different our lives would be, but that's not what happened. We reacted to a war, we all tried to survive and help others to survive - The Goblins did something terrible because they believed they could, that they deserved to have that right of dominion because women were lesser, because power and blood magic was more important. How is that Emma's fault? What happened to you?"

  "Her family kept me rotting for centuries, Elsa! Milah and I had enchanted ink in our tattoos, a parting token when the Royal family sent Liam and I to the front. It let us hear the other's heartbeat as a steady rhythm when we were apart, her at home and I at sea. When they took her, that was the only thing - that was the only way I measured time in my days waiting in that cell, until I found that I could make the tiny portals to you and Ingrid. The heart on my arm grew slower until the day she died, when it turned black. I refused to believe it, to give her up, to admit that she… I lost myself in rage. I took it out on you, and on anybody who had more freedom than I. I thought we could save her. If I'm honest, I suppose I've known she was gone for centuries, known that crocodile-skinned rapist killed her while royalty locked me away so I couldn't do anything. I just couldn't…”

  “It's fine to grieve, Killian. I still grieve, for Liam and his future, for our future. Revenge after this much time though? And revenge on them? No one could get to the Goblins’ realm; that was the purpose of locking them there, so they could not get out. The princess does not deserve to be a pawn in your scheme - ”

  “You’re only a pawn if you don’t know you’re being used," Killian hissed at her. Elsa's eyes widened as he smiled maliciously."And you - you will never know how it feels to be so powerful and yet so helpless. Liam died almost instantly, and do you know how I know? Because I killed him. Milah took years to die, years I could have saved her, years where she was alive. I'd have gone to hell and back knowing she was waiting. Instead I was imprisoned there like some sick form of insurance for the royal family for centuries. You still have a school girl crush on the ghost of the man who didn't marry you after, what, eight months?”

  Elsa didn't say anything, opening her mouth but not making noise as her eyes filled with anger. He realized his overstep too late, Elsa's head shaking in what looked like shame or pity. Pushing past him, he caught her wrist. 

  “Elsa, I'm sorry, I didn't think before I spoke and the Dar-”

  “The Darkness is not you, Killian Jones. You have drilled that into our minds, and we… It wasn't only you who lost someone. We lost our parents, our brother, your parents, Uncle Nemo… Olaf was just a child, a child who had no idea what was happening. I lost a brother too, you know. We even lost you! I forgave you for what happened to Liam. I forgave you because you said it wasn't you, begged me to understand that you would never. Do you know how much I wanted you to be wrong? You were in love with Milah for longer, and she was alive longer. I understand that. But I still know he meant it when he said he loved me. I still love him and miss him every day. When I'm ready, I'll move on, but…” Elsa took a heavy breath that shook, “Reminders like this set me back, and I haven't found anyone remotely as wonderful as him.”

  “I -”

  They were startled when they heard Ingrid and Anna leaving Emma’s room, each heading to their own chambers as Elsa climbed the stairs. 

  “That was the end of our conversation. Good night, Dark One, if that is truly what still remains.”

  Elsa entered her room, her door closing with a click, ignoring Killian as he whispered curses to himself. The whispers almost sounded like a conversation, two voices overlapping, hatred in each one. In a shifting mass of black he was gone, the hallway empty and quiet except for the ticking of a clock. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  Emma let herself slide down her own door, ashamed of her eavesdropping, ashamed of too many things she could not control. Angry at the events of the day, angry at whatever it was - Dark One or man - that toyed with them like a bored housecat. And if it wasn't his presence, it was hers causing distress. 

  How was she supposed to save her kingdom, her parents, everything she cared about, when her presence only brought chaos? 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  Elsa struggled to sleep after she fought with Killian, deciding instead to get a head start on the day's baking. She was often the earliest up of the three, starting her days on only a few hours of sleep. 

  She was surprised to hear a soft singing voice in the bakery and the sounds of a working kitchen. Poking her head inside, Elsa watched with awe as Emma baked with masterful efficiency and flitted around cutting shapes or pulling pans out to replace another. 

  The door squeaked slightly, Elsa and Emma meeting eyes. 

  "Um… Hi, and good morning - " Emma yawned. 

  Elsa pointed around before talking again. "You actually did all this?"

  "I - Yes. I couldn't sleep, and my tutors always drilled into me that if I was going to do something, I should do it well and learn it fast. Moving around, keeping busy, it's all I know. It keeps my worst thoughts at bay, and I think clearer. I've also had several cups of your coffee, which is wonderful by the way. This isn't much different than my calisthenics or arithmetic after learning your measurements. I did experiment a bit with some of the recipes, adding ingredients while using the alchemical method of like things in small batches. I made an amazing tea cake of honey, some of the mint from the tea I recommended, rose, and lavender, if you'd like to try it, oh and - "

  "You're… You're actually smart."          

  Emma hesitated, nervous and uneasy around Elsa. “Well. In some ways, yes. I'm well educated about my realm and its many subjects. Here, I'm nothing but some hapless - ”

  “Emma.” Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose, then shook her head as she scooped up Emma's hands in her own pale palms. “The Killian I knew would never have called you spoiled or hapless. I shouldn't have called you spoiled or hapless. I'm sorry, and I beg your forgiveness. The things I said were terrible and out of anger, but Killian… The thing inside of him, controlling him, it's not what was - is - underneath. It's scared of you.”

  Scoffing, Emma laughed, trying to pull away. “Oh, don't tease -” 

  “If there is still the man I knew under what he has become, he is lucky to have someone as clever as you in his care.”

  "Thank you?" 

  "No, enough of that. I was a… I was awful to you and I don't need thanks for telling you what's true. We're family, and disagreements happen. I want to throw Anna three times a day, it's just what we do." 

  "Yes, it's wonderful to watch. I grew up very alone. That's why…" Emma trailed off, biting her lip. 

  "Tell me. You aren't alone now, alright?" 

  "That's why I… um. That's why I spoke to Liam's portrait. He kept me company."

  "Ah."

  Silence filled the bakery for a long stretching moment, Elsa looking down at her hands. 

  "I suppose, if there ever was a person to haunt people, it would not only be a Jones man, but Liam specifically. He couldn't go two feet without questioning someone's choices, or chasing them down to force them to be better. He expected perfection without sacrificing humanity and goodness. You'd hear his praises of 'good form' all over their ships, with Killian repeating it." Elsa looked lost in thought, smiling wistfully. 

  "To the ladies of the court it was a joke, they'd yell it down on the beaches at each other while wrapping a kerchief around their eyes, and we'd all echo it back for them to find. The Brothers Jones of Blackwater found it funny. Or Liam did at least. Killian may have been a bit sore, I suppose, but Liam joined us to play, which made it funnier. I always hoped Liam would find me; that was my secret fantasy.” She sighed, closing her eyes as if to savor the memory, then laughed lightly. “He never did. Always ended up with someone else, and I resigned myself. I was always shy outside of our kingdom, and kept to the gaggle of girls I grew up with.

  "Killian struck up conversation with us first, because Ingrid helped tend to his mother before she passed, and our father and the Lord of Blackwater traded before the Lord abandoned his station to avoid war. Anna and Killian got along well, and then Anna, Milah, and Killian, and I all became friends. Liam always stood awkwardly and stared at me, just clammed up, and I was nice to him but he fled from me as if I offended him by my presence." Emma laughed with her, surprised to hear she had been shy, but more surprised by the cadence of her voice talking about Liam. 

  Rolling her eyes and using her hands, she continued. "Killian went on and on about his brother's love of debate, politics, theatre, the sciences… most of all, their mutual love of the sea and their keep. All things I adored, and what drew me to Liam at our primary sessions in the courts."

  "Primary sessions?" Asking quietly, Emma looked at Elsa with confusion. 

  "Oh yes, we all, as in all the Fae nobility, used to take primary sessions of basic courtly education in the summers so the Lords could meet. It wasn't as segregated then, at least for the children and women. The ladies of the court had no roles in most things outside of the household, so they made good with those who lived nearby, were well titled, or were especially interesting." 

  Emma wrinkled her nose. "Oh."

  Elsa straightened, explaining with precision. "It was before the population decline and finding the fundamentals of time and dimensional energies, creation of the pocket realms was just an idea back then. That changed so much, and truly allowed many more women to rule, lessening disputes about purity of lineage. Ironically, the best contributions to the Fae are exactly what sparked the war."

  "Yes, I just... I never knew that world."

  "I did. It was wonderful, while it was. It just took so much…" Elsa trailed off, until Emma touched her elbow gently, bring her back to the present with a question. 

  "You said Liam loved debates?"

  "Oh, yes - Killian told me all these things and he just idolized his brother, who hated me. Would be around anyone else but me. So, I iced him out, and iced them all out in the process. By the time they realized something was wrong, Killian and Milah were done with their poor job of hiding their relationship from everyone, and I guess they realized that Liam was an absolute ass around me. It seems to be a Jones men trait.

  "So one day, Liam stomps over to me as I sewed in our courtyard, and hands me a pair of gloves. Beautiful, soft suede leather, dyed blue. Periwinkle. My favorite. He grumbled something about meeting all of them back at the beach. So I met him and a few others, wearing the gloves, and we played a round of that silly game. Liam found me right away, and stayed by me the entire night. I was beyond confused and thought it was a joke, or a lost bet they put him up to."

  "He kept asking if I was cold, because I was crossing my arms, and I finally yelled at him: 'The cold doesn't bother me, anyway!' It was time to end whatever this thing was. Liam sputtered out something akin to “You bloody Ice Queen!”, which had my sister, Killian, and Milah angry, and eventually the lumbering fool came to find me crying at the docks. 

  "He refused to leave, and told me that I'd trounced him soundly as a school girl, and he was terrified of me because he thought I was lovely and brilliant. He would have chosen me during that good form game, but could only see skirts and fingertips, and was unable to find mine before being mobbed. He liked the subjects I liked, and begged for tutoring in them on top of his rigorous Naval training. Killian had guessed, and hatched a plan with Anna, and then Milah, to push us together - but Liam had blundered every task horribly out of nerves.

  "We admitted our feelings that night after pining for years. Only a few months later, whispers of war started. He bought a ring immediately, and told me it was insurance so he'd always make it back to me, jokingly begging me to wait for him to get back before running off with another suitor. It became a jest in his letters to me, and we'd count the days in our signatures. ‘Waited 32 days for your return. Waited 56 days for your return. Waited 110 days for your return.’ 

  "Then it happened. The war hit a fever pitch with the Goblins capture of Fae women at a courtier function. Anna and I were there when the attack happened, but Milah was taken, our world was plunged into chaos, the Darkness destroyed the navy in one swoop. Suddenly, everyone was dying; we were fleeing, and my family was separated, but Ingrid refused to let us stop running until we were safe. We were never safe, so we never stopped. We didn't find out everyone's fate until we realized that there were no Fae besides us in most places. We returned home, but the changes were… There was nothing salvageable that wasn't subsequently destroyed by the shifting realms. So we took the gold we had, settled down here in Nemo’s summer home, and finally mourned. Put up pictures when we were able. Drew and painted what we needed to remember. Grew things. Learned how this new world works. 

  "Liam never returned, and we only heard of Killian’s betrayal after he visited us and told us of his imprisonment."

  "How could he visit you? He had nothing there, and that cell was enchanted -" 

  "He was never able to truly leave that cell, but occasionally could make a portal big enough for us to speak through. Almost like a magic mirror. He was broken by losing Liam, desperate for news of Milah, and angrier than we'd ever seen him. Manic even. Lost and torn apart by that thing possessing him. Killian finally told me what he had done after he learned of Milah’s marriage, screamed his part in Liam's death at me because I couldn't help free his stolen love. We didn't speak again until years later, hundreds of years to him."

  "Slowly, we grieved together again. The Darkness has so much control, but when he fights it, or it quiets, you can tell. There is a man still in there, a good man. The Killian I know, my only living brother, he is in there. Learn to read him, Emma. It may serve your cleverness yet."

  "Elsa, I - " 

  "Save it, especially if it is any sort of apology. I… I'm tired." She wiped tears from her eyes, smudging trails of them off of her face. "I just… did you make pie today? I really need some pie. Or chocolate cake." 

  "Or? That is not the Elsa spirit I heard about! And!" 

  "And? Emma, what are you - " 

  "Pie and cake."

  "Oh. Oh, Emma. I did mention you were terribly clever, did I not?" Elsa giggled, and Emma allowed herself a rarely held sly smile. 

  "If you'd like to mention it again, I'm certain it will not hurt."

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  The Palace, Great Hall

  Nil sat at the head of a long table with his father, Goblins on either side of them like some bastardized version of a royal feast. Carcasses of animals and Anisapi alike graced the long oak boards, with food ladled sloppily as the horde ate their fill. Various Fae struggled in their leg shackles to haul trays of potatoes and broken gnawed bones, their bodies aching for rest.

  The large doors opened with a splintery creak, an axe that had been lodged in the jamb clattering to the stone floor. Pann stood in the dim shadow that was cast, straightening himself and gathering his nerve. 

  "Come forward, Pann." Nil gestured toward him, grinning. "Don't be scared now, or shy. Come, come! We're feasting." He gestured to the various meats laid out, Pann's blood going cold as he looked at what once was a female Satyr, now picked clean to just past the ribcage. Large wings and haunches rested on other platters, Goblins chewing and slurping loudly. 

  "I find I have no appetite, M'lord, but instead bring grand news." Pann smiled his reedy grin, the Goblin King waving a hand with a grunt at him. 

  "Whatever you want, my son. Just get the dagger piece; I'm tired of having to try to parlay with the dwarves. Their tribal names are as stupid as they are." He took a large swig of wine, splashing some on the Fae woman behind him. Pann shifted uncomfortably at the thought of either of them being with a woman, let alone a wife. 

  "What is this good news then? Have you found my betrothed?" Nil asked excitedly. When Pann nodded, the prince practically bounced in his chair. "Finally, I'd begun to think I’d never own her -" 

  "We have set a trap for them, baiting the Dark One with a contact I now control. Tink Rebel, a siren from near the Blackwater. She played her part beautifully."

  "I don't care, tell me specifically how you'll catch my wife, how does she fit into your plans!" Nil raged, slamming aside glasses. His eyes bulged, a vein in his forehead visible even under scales. Pann took a calming breath. 

  "Not only will I capture her and the shard, M'lord," The Goblin King's eyes slid to look at the satyr, while Nil let his fingernails dig into the table in a long gash, but Pann continued faster, "I will give her to you completely docile and under your control." 

  Nil laughed, staring at Pann incredulously. "Impossible. You cannot tame that dragon bitch. I am glad you joined us, are you sure you’re not hungry?" Clapping his hands, Nil smiled a dangerous smirk as a great swath of Fae struggled to carry out a platter, still sizzling with crackling fat. Pann swallowed down his revulsion as the once great body of the King of the Anisapi lay before him, the great forest boar Heston reduced to being served with a watermelon in his maw instead of an apple.

  "I swear it, I swear I can get her to break. I have a hiding place, a place I keep my… Human, Fae, and Anisapi menagerie. A discotheque club in the old realm. I make a potion that keeps them young and compliant, even the Fae. I have hundreds of them in my fairy circle, and they don't even know - "

  Nil's eyes lit up. "You're luring them to Never-Wonder Land? Even I know of its debauchery." 

  "You and I know. The Dark One has no idea; he's missed every secret deal and smuggling scam while under lock and key. And the Princess? She is so sheltered I know she'll fall." Pann flashed a smile and after a moment, Nil and the Goblin King returned their own relaxed grins. "Your queen will drink some Ambrosia pollen and Nostras water, then listen to and obey every command you ask of her, like your own personal pet, in no time."

  Nil gave a cry of glee, laughing as he ripped off a chunk of meat with his fork, happily tearing at it with his sharp teeth. 

  The Goblin King raised his glass, and lazily licked his lips with his viper tongue. "Begone now, Anisapi."

  Pann practically ran from the room, his own magic wavering for a moment before his portal appeared. He landed in Greece, adjusting his glamor to fit his human disguise, leisure suit zipped halfway up as he stalked inside his club. No music was on in the warehouse space, but bodies writhed to invisible songs while his golden nectar flowed freely. 

  Yes, this was his home, and with luck he would escape the Fae political world all together with Nil as his ally. Now, it all rested on Princess Emma, the Dark One, and if they could survive Never-Wonder Land. 

[ikonislife]

Spring Night.

-Jinhwan x Reader

-Friends to lovers, tiny pinch of angst + a dash of fluff + a whole lot of nonsense

-Being friends with an international idol is hard enough without the tangled mess of the heart. What will happen when you finally succumb to your emotions?

Dating is… hard. Even with your unbeatable single status, you’re at least allow to say that much and quite honestly, you doubt many would disagree. Bless are those who found their mate and seemingly not only survive but thrive through all of life adversaries hand in hand, hearts beating as one. What’s more, those who are not weighed down by the pressure of society to be with someone, those who are independent and could honestly give no fucks about what anyone else say. Last but not least, those who are free of the shackles that comes with the question “What are we?” As you sit here nursing the third bottle of cheap soju, because honestly, you’re broke and you’re trash so does it really makes a different if it’s smooth on the way down or burn like the fiery passion that your mother has for the future of your uterus… Anyhow, sidetrack and irrelevant. As you sit here nursing the third bottle of cheap soju at your favorite rooftop, you gaze at the bustling world below seemingly bursting with life like grass after a good long rainfall and wonder. “What are we?” Unfortunately, you’re none of the option above. You have no lifelong mate nor are you cool enough to lead life the way so many of the strong female role models you admire do. You give too much fuck about what people think and you wouldn’t dare to forget the shackles bestowed upon your soul by that heavy question. “What the fuck are we?”

You scream but there’s no answer aside from a few dogs howling back, good to know you’re at least cool enough to get a reply from animals. You thought about it day and night, but it seems as though the answer is more or less as elusive as the abominable snowman. You hadn’t really thought about it before really, why is it that everyone so obsess with labeling things, why can’t things just be things without a string of complicated adjectives and nouns to make it all technical and formal. You and him, friends but of course not lucky enough for that old outplayed trope of childhood best friend falling in love as adults. That’d be too easy, far too simple because face it, if Kim Jinhwan was your childhood best friend… Man, you would hold on and never let go, like Smaug and his golds. Is that too obscure of a reference for most to comprehend? Let’s try again. If Kim Jinhwan, godsent Kim Jinhwan was your childhood best friend, you’d be on him like cats and catnips, koalas and their favorite tree. That’s enough for analogy, everyone gets the point. But then if that was the case, you’d then have to worry about the possibility of an unrequited love and you’re almost certain you won’t fare well there either knowing your rotten luck. It seems so long ago since the first moment you laid eyes on the perfect specimen that is the charismatic, sexy dork named Jinhwan. You didn’t think much of it, never did it crossed your mind to even try and be friend with someone of such status. You were already lucky enough to get a one in a lifetime chance to be in the same room with such an admirable person, needless to say, “what are we?” wasn’t exactly what you were striving for when you laid eyes on him. He was so beautiful, there was just a natural glow, an ethereal light radiating from his beautiful self that shamed your eyes from holding their gaze too long even when he wasn’t looking. Even across a roomful of people buzzing with delight that they had gotten a rare chance to be near the newly blossomed idols, you caught his eyes and for a moment, your heart lost a beat and breath stolen. It was as if Earth had, for that single second, lost all of its atmosphere, leaving the entire bank worth of oxygen vanishing into the depth of the dark universe. Somewhere in between a sweet smile being offered as a greeting and your near death experience after one of his old timer joke left you snorting water up your nose, you became “friends”. “Friends” in the sense that you were sure after that night, after the confetti swept up by the night crew and all the flowers that sacrificed their lives to serve as eye candy for a crowd were tossed like yesterday news, he would no longer care for who you were and why you had mattered in that single hour he spent standing by your side. Oh well, it was still a good memory to have and to hold, you got to experienced what it was like to be Kim Jinhwan’s friend even if it was just for a few hours. Four years later and somewhere along the way, lines were blurred, and boundaries were crossed. At any given point in time, you would without a doubt say he’s the most important person in your life within the last decade aside from family. Your concern? Would Jinhwan say the same if he was to be confronted with the same question. Needless to say, “what are we?” carries meaning much deeper for you than it could ever possibly try to be with Jinhwan and you’re just not sure how to deal with that because face it, he’s an internationally adored public figure and you’re just a faceless figure in the crowd. But of course, not all love story bloom from best friends to lovers plotline so now is a good of a time as ever to run through all your option. Bottles running low and the moon rising high, you let the now found glow of your skin to bask in the light breeze of spring ending hoping for the sticky of summer to stay away just for a bit longer. Imagine that, getting drunk on a Thursday night covers in a layer of sweat because summer nights aren’t always reserve for quick fling Grease style. You instantly clicked the moment you had met, so the enemies to lovers line is out which leaves you with the option of love at first sight or the gradual falling for someone at the hands of time. Now under any other circumstances, with anyone else, you’d believe it, no second thought of just “what are we?” really meant but this is iKON’s Kim Jinhwan you’re talking about. The milky skin beauty, fairy in the eyes of so many fans, and the little fucking sex bomb of iKON with his sharp gaze and alluring smirk. Even if you know him as just Jinhwan, the dork who had showed up at your apartment half out of his mind and completely drunk on more occasion than once, or showed up simply because he was bored and much rather bothered you with making him a dinner than just getting to-go… To the world, he was still very much a goddess. As the last empty bottle clinking itself amongst its fallen comrade, you mutter a cuss at the unfairness of this world, wondering if he’d take offense that you had just called him a goddess but never mind that part. Did you ask to be friend with an international idol? Well, that’s a bit of a grey area courtesy of 11:11 and sponsorship from that shoot stars shower your dad had taken you to years ago. But in a million years never did you ask to fall in love with one, especially when he was Kim fucking Jinhwan, the impossible Kim Jinhwan. He was just unlike anyone you’ve ever met, so sweet and kind with the appearance that could make panties fall just by sparing a meaningless glance. He has the heart that could only be supported by the hands of millions of fans, so it goes without saying… You will never be enough. Is that a stupid thing to admit to yourself? That you will never be enough for the person you so hopelessly in love with? You are, in all the ways of the world, a realistic person and you love yourself enough to admit to all the faults, even if that means never being enough. You’re enough for yourself, for many others, but just not for him. “What are you doing drinking alone, dork?” You didn’t need to turn around to know just exactly who that voice has belong to. After all, just as with other fans, you’ve spent countless hours crying your heart out over their soft, soulful ballads.   “How’d you know I was here?” there was a time when you’d bother with hiding the pile of empty bottles, but of course that was also a time of shy conversations and timid smile. Now, now you wouldn’t even spare a second thought for the man drink nearly as much as you do, even if his choices are far more expensive and classier. “We have GPS track on each other’s phone, you dork.” He deadpanned, eyeing the pile with an expression that was honestly, one you hadn’t seen before. You’ve seen the silent anger, the flirt, the embarrassed, hell, even hanging off the toilet puking Jinhwan… This look, needless to say it leaves you wondering. “Would you care to join me and my friends here?” Patting the spot right beside yourself, you kick away the few bottles that had migrated right beside yourself before offering it up with as genuine of a smile as your buzzed self could offer. “Y/n, I’m serious. Why are you here drinking by yourself this late at night? And drinking this garbage too.” And though he wasn’t appointed the leader of the group, being the eldest meant that being concern over every little thing was part of his very being. Seriously, you forget just about how many times you had gotten in trouble with the small fairy, suffering from the wrath of those sharp eyes glaring, nostril flaring, just because you had forgotten your sweater. When you had glanced over at the man himself, barely a thin button up, if you could even call it that with just how many buttons were loosely hung rather than safely tucked away in their home. “What’s with all the question? What are you, the police?” You jeer, fully acknowledging the fact that you, with all intent and purposes, doing your best to avoid letting him know of the monologue you had shared with the neighborhood canines. “And I’m broke, what’s it to you? Gonna arrest me for bad taste and crumbling under societal expectation?” Another chug and a glance that could cut stone, it was only now that your blurred vision had let on the concern plaguing his beautiful face. So instead of dwelling on that strange tone and worried gaze, you stare dead ahead, letting the burning of the poison wash away all your sadness. “Why didn’t you just go to my place. I’m sure I’ve got enough alcohol to fill your limitless soul, you little keg.” Ripping the bottle away from your iron clad grip, Jinhwan takes it upon himself to lower his standard, letting a few drops of your choice of weapon tainted his tongue before nearly gagging at the taste. “Because, I don’t wanna be smooching off your ass all the time…” Struggling for your salvation back, the stench of cheapness barely got a chance to singe your nose hair before you went barreling sideway. He might be small, but no one ever dare say Kim Jinhwan doesn’t come packing. “Yea, like you don’t do that all the time.” He rolls his eyes and, normally, this banter, the constant jab at each other would only mean that a full fledge battle was about to go down. Today… Today, somehow it stings, far worse than the burn your esophagus had suffered through the past few hours. “What are you, shy or something now?” He’s prepared, arms up and leaning backward, just waiting for you to explode but nothing… He watches on, anxious and concern, once more wearing that indecipherable expression as you pull yourself off the cold, hard ground. “Yea, something…” You mutter under your breath, a bitter smile and a dejected sigh fall from your lips before silent once more overtakes the night. The hand that had been so diligently packing away the empty bottles to be recycle (because come on, you’re a drunk, not a menace to the neighborhood’s cleanliness) stiffening under the warmth of his hand, tugging, begging silently for you to just once look his way. “What’s wrong, Y/n. I can tell something, someone is clearly bothering you. Is it me?” You could hear the frantic in his voice, the way his soft fingers wrapping so firmly around your hand should’ve sooth your heart, but it doesn’t. Perhaps mercury is in retrograde, perhaps a blood moon or a blue moon or even a tangerine one was upon, but for once in the short time since you’ve known him, Jinhwan couldn’t provide you the solace your weary heart needs. “Self-centered much?” A scoff you didn’t know was choked inside your throat dislodges itself into the brisk breeze, scaring the man that was nothing but worry about your wellbeing. “Just because I’m upset, it must somehow mean you’re involve. Even so, it’s not like you have time for me anyways.” No sooner than the shock mingling with the tiniest tint of pain had spread over those handsome features, you storm away. You storm away not because you were angry nor because he had done something wrong. You storm away simply because knowing the hurt in his voice as he chases after you, the way that adorable pout is tugging at his lips, it’s all because of you. “Wait, Y/n. Oh my God, you’re crying.” Breathless and most definitely confuse, Jinhwan rushes out the words barely had a chance forming in his mind. Never before had you cried in front of him, not even when you had split your knees open because someone had instilled in Jinhwan’s mind that tandem bike was a good idea (Damn Junhoe and his loud mouth, never again will you trust him with anything). Thumbs gently wiping away the hot tears streaking down your cheeks, he lets one arm snaking around your waist, the other resting gently across your shoulders. It feels amazing being in his arms, to feel his breath tickling delightfully against your hair, to feel his heart beating so comforting against your chest. “Y/n, you know you can tell me anything… And I don’t know much about life, but I do know you. And I know that something I did make you upset.” “It’s nothing-“ Before you dare to finish that sentence, to brush this entire night off as nothing but a glitch in the system of your lonely life, Jinhwan already pushes you off his shoulder. Though not far enough that you could run away once more, he had enough running for the night. It was definitely enough to let a shiver wrecking down your spine as the sternness of a man meaning business steeling in his features. “I’m not playing around, Y/n. If I did something to make you angry or resentful of me, I’d rather have you scream at me, punch me, kick me, whatever the hell you want to do. But don’t think that I’ll just sit back and let you go through your stupid tantrum and silent treatment without a fight.” You’ve known him for far too long and far too intimate to lie now, not after the laid-back man had grown tired of your antic. “I didn’t say anything because it’s just something stupid, and trivial.” A heavy sigh falling from your lips, mulling, perhaps stalling the inevitable end of your friendship with this perfect man. Strange how accepting death, or in this case death to your friendship, suddenly instilling bravery into your feeble heart. Your words lingering, echoing through the night air as you let your index tracing out the swirls and lines of his woven sweater covering his chest, toying dangerously close to the soft, smooth skin of his neck, buying as much time being so warm in his arms as you could. “You’re far too busy to be dealing with my idiotic nonsense…” “Y/n… We’re friends, aren’t we? The last time I had a meltdown over stress, who were there listening to my incessant babbling, dealing with my messes even though she didn’t have to?” Pulling you once more into his chest, Jinhwan cards solace through to your soul with each pass of his fingers through your hair. Yet your heart, drumming erratically, nearly jumping out of your chest when something that had felt so much like a kiss pressed so delicately against your wind-blown locks. It couldn’t be, your mind scrambling for an answer, but your heart is in disbelief, refusing to let you believe that fleeting touch was anything but accidental. “Me…” Your little admittance muffled deep within the crook of his neck where you had made yourself a niche, the little niche that you’d surely lose by tonight’s end. “Who? I’m sorry, am I talking to a little mouse?” Now normally these little teases, the little words that irked you to the moon and back would be accompany by little jab to your side, a ruffle to your hair, or even a pinch to your cheek. Yet once again, mercury must be in fucking retrograde and Gatorade because he had only tightened his hug further, digging his nose into your soft locks as he takes in a long whiff. “Me.” You yelp louder, out of shock or out of contentment, who even knows anymore. “Right, so why don’t you tell me what’s going on between us.” Much to your disappointment, Jinhwan loosen the hold he got around your body, though barely enough to put a few inches in between your chests, it was enough to lure out a heavy sigh from your lungs. “What I am about to say… You have to promise me, promise me you won’t hate me afterward. You can take your time, process everything and I don’t know, stop being friends with me… But just please, don’t hate me.” Your gaze no closer to meeting his than it had nearly an hour ago when he had first plopped down beside you. You don’t need to look to know that concern expression already painting over his soft features, choosing to focus instead on the warmth emanating from his body through to you. You let your eyes fluttering close, jaw clenching and fist balling, no preparation in this world would be enough for what you’re about to do. “I like you, Jinhwan. Not the platonic soulmates bullshit, n-not the way you boys like each other as lifelong friends either.” You pause for a second, a thought sparking in your head at the most inappropriate of time but it was one you think needed to be said. “Well maybe the way Hanbin likes Jiwon…” You mull over the prospect of the two rappers’ matter of the heart before a stern cough from Jinhwan reel you back to reality. “Sorry, not the time for that. What I’m trying to say is, I like you in all the ways that a girl could like a guy. All the ways that leave me breathless, aching for more when you smile my way. But I know… if you were to fall in love, it’d probably be with one of the hundreds of beautiful women you meet that are far better than me. Just as well as I know this, us is never going to happen. I’m sorry.” Your words slowly trailing out, barely there just as your heart barely beating at the silent settling so fast over your still embraced body. Each beat of the heart, each second ticking by was another second closer to your entire body failing, losing all functions. You want to run, to hide, to dig a hole and throw yourself in to the vat of boiling rock in the core of the Earth but he doesn’t let you, arms still holding on so tightly. Tears once more threatening to spill from your eyes, and you want him to scream, to yell, to have him do something, anything at all but this ugly silent. “I am busy, that’s true.” When he finally breaks the excruciating silent, it wasn’t the words you wanted to hear. And even though you had fully prepared yourself for a rejection, it hurts. “Maybe I’m just too busy being yours to fall for someone else… Have you considered that?” “What in the actual fuck are you talking about?” Even if a smile already blossomed on your lips, your heart still fully in disbelief at the words that had just processed through your brain. “Okay, that is not the reaction I deserve after baring my heart, but I have to admit it’s one I expected… And very on brand for my girlfriend.” You must be dreaming because that word, you finally got to hear the word that makes your heart flutter being spoken through that sweet voice. Once more your face fallen onto his chest, hiding away the blush that was far brighter than the glow alcohol had painted your skin with. “Oh, come on. Stop hiding, don’t I deserve at least a kiss or something?” A soft kiss flutters against your cheek and this time, this time there was no confusion for the delicate warmth of his lips sent your heart into overdrive. “I-, just give me a second. I’m still processing… You’re not messing with me, are you?” Finally mustering enough courage to peer up at the handsome man, you nearly faint seeing a smile already so brilliant on his lips, and the way he was staring down at you so lovingly. “I would never do to anyone, let alone you. Do you not trust me?” “I’m sorry, but one second you were calling me a free loader, and the next I’m suddenly your girlfriend now. I feel like I can’t even breathe properly, lay off me, will you?” For the first time since he had gotten his arms wrapped around your body so tightly, your soul nearly passed out, you rip yourself away from comfort. Pacing about, you fan at your face then fan at your entire body, not even the soft breeze of the night could cool your heart down. You couldn’t stay away for long, his laughter so fresh and crisp, echoing through the silent of the night lure you back in, nearly tackling him to the ground in a big hug. “Did that solve your alcoholic tendency, hmm miss Y/n?” He sighs gently, pressing a dainty kiss against your lips as if that has always happened, as natural as the moon reigning over the night sky. “If I say no… Will there be more kisses?” “Brat!” He sighs with a pinch to your cheek, and another sweet kiss to your lips. This one lasting a bit longer than the last and you hope with time, they’ll never end. “You don’t have to worry about that because believe it or not, I do actually want to kiss you, like all the time.” “I honestly thought tonight was going to end with me making out with the toilet but… I think I much prefer this.” Your words trail off into a kiss, though not yet brave enough to let it lingers into so much more, you were content with the innocent of a new relationship budding in the soft breeze of the night and gentle scent of spring’s best blossoms. “Me too.” He sighs simply, content and happy. Dating is… hard. And now that you no longer belong to the unbeatable single club (sorry, Hanbin. You’ll have to beg for his forgiveness for leaving him behind and stolen his eldest.), you are most definitely qualified now to make that statement and Jinhwan would agree. Even if the beginning of your relationship wasn’t one to compete in the race of the most romantic or in the running of the best ‘friends to lovers stories’, it was one that’ll surely put a smile on your lips for years to come… That if Jinhwan hadn’t beat your ass and hand you over to the grim reaper for annoying the living day light out of him. For now, you’ll enjoy your walk home and the excitement bubbling in your chest as he plans out your very first date, the question of “what are we” is nothing more than a distant memory. 

[lucyhblack]

First Meeting

Well, I decided to risk "translating" my short introduction from From Pockets to Monster using a translator, since I intend to do the same with the "guide" I'm writing for that university.

I apologize in advance for any mistake in the translation.

This is my version of Pokesans, in which the Sanses (as well as the Alphys, Floweys, Temmies and other small monsters) are in the place of the Pokémon and the "bigger monsters" (Papyrus, Undynes, Asgores, Torieis, human beings. To differentiate, I use the uppercase "M" to designate the monsters who would be the "humans."

Speaking using "-" would be normal speech, since the "*" is mental communication (communication between pokemon, only they can understand).

Summary: He just wanted to take a nap on the river side...

It was a beautiful day in the forest!

The sun was shining, the birds singing, the flowers blooming and on days like this, Pockets like him, should be taking a nap!

But not! Instead he was walking at random, searching for the source of the sound that would hinder what would be a perfect and wonderful lazy morning. He sighed with regret, remembering how he'd come to that.

He had secured a place under a large tree near the small river that cut through the forest, the perfect place for a nap. He had already snuggled against the trunk, taking advantage of the shade of the great canopy and the gentle summer breeze that was already beginning to pack him into the realm of dreams when he noticed the noise.

He opened one of its bases and looked at the river in disgust.  The sound of running water was supposed to cover up the noise of the other forest dwellers.

He would ignore the sound, focus on the river, the soft wind that made the leaves rustle and take away their precious and necessary snooze. It was not going to be too difficult, after all, he was an expert at ignoring problems. He closed the base and tried to snuggle in his hood just to open the two orbits with irritation minutes later.

Well ... specialist or not, his mind seemed focused only on the sound that even distant and incomprehensible, penetrated his skull and would not let him rest. His tail knocked twice on the grass in irritation before giving up and getting up. Whatever it was he could only sleep when the noise was over, and he would make sure that it happened!

Returning to the present he regretted his heated decision, if he continued this way he would end up being late with his organized agenda of doing nothing.

The river was already drifting away, he could barely hear it, but now that he had distanced himself from the distraction he offered he felt his nonexistent heart plummet when he could better distinguish the sound that had disturbed him..

Did that look ... was it a cry?!

He quickened his pace. Despite the concern that began to flourish tried to rationalize. It should not be anything special, probably just a flying type trapped in a tree or a Swap trapped by its own trap.  And if that was it he would leave it there for him to learn a lesson. Only this week he had taken three of them out of "plumed" situations.

He he... that was good. He had to save this one to tell...

He stopped suddenly, completely forgetful of pun.

Well... he's not a flying type for sure.

It was not a flying type pokémon or any type of Pocket to be exact, although the creature sitting against a tree, hugging its legs and with the face hidden in its knees, to be small.

He approached carefully not to frighten him. He placed her gloved hand over the top of her round head and stroked it.

As soon as he felt someone touch his head, the little one stiffened and lifted his face slowly. Narrow orbits buried in tears stared at him.

Why, this was a skeleton Monster's cub!

He felt his smile permanent if stretch further. He caressed the top of the skull with more confidence as the bases widened and the tears stopped falling with admiration taking its place.

-YOU ARE A POKESANS!

He almost recoiled from the high pitch. For such a small thing it could make a LOT of noise. He nodded, not that it was a question, but he thought that if he stayed there just smiling the little Monster could start yelling again. Puppies were unpredictable after all.

The puppy jumped to his feet as he stared at it with his jaw dropped. He stepped back a step so it would not rise above him. This was a peaceful region (though some coaches occasionally showed up), yet he would rather not risk it if the puppy's parents thought he was attacking him.

-INCREDIBLE!! - The puppy exclaimed, leaning forward and staring at him with bright bases, his small body almost vibrating with excitement.

He honestly did not think his figure was so worthy of admiration, from the top of his smooth skull, to his bare feet, through his short blue hooded jumpsuit, covered tail and simple white focal lights, he was just a typical Classic pokesans, nothing noteworthy about him, but the way the puppy looked at him it looked like he was the Legendary Ink himself! It was a bit flattering to speak the truth.

-HEY! YOU ARE A POKESANS ARE NOT YOU? YOU'RE A CLASSIC, DO NOT YOU? AND WHAT TYPE? DO YOU HAVE A MASTER? HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN A BATTLE?

He took another step back, overwhelmed by the barrage of questions. He bent his head and lifted the bone from forehead. The monster puppy stopped and blinked.

-OH! SORRY, I DID NOT INTRODUCE MYSELF. I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS AND I WILL BE THE GREATEST MASTER POKESANS OF THE WORLD! - He put her tiny fists around her waist and inflated his ribs in a heroic pose.

Although Monsters like him would grow to be twice his size, at the moment, he beat on his chest and the pose was cuter than noble. He felt a pang of affection for the little thing. Apart from all the noise he made, he was very cute.

He looked curiously at Papyrus as he suddenly deflated and looked at him uncertainly. He inclined his head wondering what had bothered him now.

-HUM... MR. POKESANS... YOU WI-WILL KNOW HOW TO LEAVE THE FOREST? NO-NOT THAT I AM LOST! - Completed fast while watching the fun in the lights of the pokesans - THE GREAT PAPYRUS KNOWS EXACTLY WHERE IT IS. I ONLY... I WANT TO KNOW IF THE MISTER KNOWS! YEAH!  I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD LIKE TO TEST YOUR SKILLS!

He finished proud of his convincing excuse.

He blinked slowly, laughing inwardly at the Monster's antics. Well, a mystery solved. He held out a gloved hand to him, which gave an enchanted exclamation, taking the offered hand. He began to guide him through the forest while the puppy chattered on and on.

After a half hour, full of questions (that went unanswered, not that Papyrus would leave room for one, even if he could answer them), exclamations and long stories about the plans of the future Master Pokesans, they reached the edge of the trees, much to the relief of the Pokémon. As cute as Papyrus was he was relieved to be able to leave him in the Monster village on the edge of the forest and return to his peace and tranquility.

-AND SO I WILL HAVE THE ADMIRATION AND...

-PAPYRUS!!!

A loud cry cut the puppy's speech. Two adult skeleton Monsters rushed at them. The female grabbed Papyrus and began to scold him in the middle of kissing as the puppy writhed and complained. The grown male enveloped them and seemed content to just keep them in his arms.

At the edge of his vision saw a Monster fish in uniform approaching next to a yellow lizard pocket. An Officer and his Pokealphys. He turned to the two newcomers.

-Hey punk, thank you for bringing it back, parents were going crazy! - The officer thanked, looking at the family meeting with approval.

*Th-They're n-new around here. We warned the forest was safe and that we would find him... but...* - Pokealphys shrugged sheepishly.

He just nodded, understanding what she did not say.

Papyrus was able to disentangle himself from his loving parents and pulled them to the Pokesans' side.

-LOOK! WAS MR. POKESANS THAT BROUGHT ME. - He counted proudly holding his new friend's hand.

-OH! THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR BRINGING FOR HOME OUR BABY.

The female pressed her hands to her chest and looked at him gratefully.

-MOM! I AM NOT A BABY! - Papyrus protested in revolted

Well... it seems like loud voices ran in the family. He just nodded and made a move with his free hand as if to say "never mind".

He released he hand and stroked the little skull one last time. He had turned, ready to return to his place by the river, now more than ever in need of a nap after all the commotion, but he did not take three steps when the puppy caught him by his means.

-MR. POKESANS! WHERE'S THE GOING ?! - Papyrus exclaimed in anguish.

-Darling, he's a wild pokesan, and... - The male tried to persuade the puppy, but he only shook his head, refusing to hear or let go.

-BUT... BUT – the little Monster looked desperately for an excuse not to let his new friend go. - I STILL NEVER THANK YOU FOR BRINGING ME ... WANT TO SAY FOR HAVING ACCOMPANIED ME BACK TO HOME.

He complained, already planning something to make the pokesans stay there longer. He blinked and let him run to face the other monster. - THEN THANK YOU MR. POKESANS! AND AS PROOF OF MY GRATITUDE I INVITE YOU TO LUNCH WITH US!

He leaned and looked expectantly at his parents. Pride shone through his whole being by his quick thinking, but quickly replaced by the best beggar he could do, after all, his brilliant plan would only work if his parents agreed.

The male smiled amused and the female clapped her hands in delighted.

-YES, ABSOLUTELY! YOU SHOULD COME WITH US, AS THANKS MR. POKESANS.

The little monster looked at each of the Monsters present, the female looking enchanted and the puppy, well he could swear that there were little stars in the bottom of the orbits ready to explode. The male, though more restrained than the others, looked at him with equal expectation. He turned to Monster fish and his companion, the Pokealphys waved a tentative smile and the Officer gave a thumbs-up.

He turned to the skeleton Monsters and nodded. The screams exploded around him.

He felt his smile stretch once more. He did not usually deal with Monsters, so he did not know if everyone was so excited, but he was not going to deny that their joy was captivating.

Besides, what living creature would refuse free food?!