#Posted on AO3

[lakes-liver]

Legend has been acting very distinctly off, lately.

He’s not injured, Sky knows that much. There wasn’t a time where he’s been separated from the group. Something triggered him, perhaps? The veteran has more than enough baggage to sift through.

Sky really isn’t sure.

Legend hasn’t been the same since… about a week ago? Something of the sort? He’s been quieter, laughter not so loud, snarks not so present. If it were anyone else, Sky wouldn’t be concerned.

But this is Legend he’s talking about. Legend, who shows a prickly front but is soft on the inside. His facade isn’t prickly right now, though, more like a dull point.

Triggers don’t last that long, right? If they didn’t, he would be better by now, at least outwardly. Then again, Sky doesn’t know much (if anything at all) of the “shell-shock” the veteran, the captain, and even Time seem to describe. What he knows is limited, tales from an era long before Skyloft, when the world wasn’t so peaceful. So, maybe there’s a chance it can last this long?

This train of thought does not change the fact that there is still something wrong, and Sky is very much concerned.

Another day passes, and the Chosen Hero watches his friend. A multitude of notes show up.

One: no one else seems to have noticed the problem at hand.

Two: Legend is acting as he usually does (jabs, rolled eyes, etc.) around everyone in their group.

Third: the veteran is only acting oddly around Sky.

Now, this has raised a very important question in Sky’s mind. Did he do something wrong? While he’s never been one to hold silent grudges (except against the goddesses, of course), maybe Sky had done something to be an exception.

He mulls this over throughout the evening, as they set up camp. Physically, he’s busied by setting out his bedroll, as well as some of the others’. Mentally, though, he thinks, and thinks, and thinks.

If the veteran hadn’t been borderline ignoring him, Sky’s sure he’d make a quip about how he shouldn’t think so much.

“It must get difficult thinkin’ so hard, birdbrains,” he’d mock, and Sky would laugh, and all would be well.

But all is not well. And Sky is growing more nervous by the second.

He thinks over every interaction with Legend in the past week. Nothing stands out to him. It started normally, with pokes and jokes and smiles and giggles. Then, like a switch had been flipped, the pink-haired man had become strangely subdued.

Could it have something to do with that? The whole… pink-rabbit, thing? But that was months ago, and this was so much more recent.

“Sky? Ya ‘ere?” Fingers are being snapped in front of his face.

He jumps, looking into the marked face of Twilight. Sky hides it with a flush and a chuckle. “Yes! Sorry, got lost in my thoughts, there” — and here is where the birdbrain comments should go, yet none do — “what did you ask?”

Twi, ever the worrywart, frowns slightly. “I ‘as j’st askin’ ‘bout watch. Doubleshif’s, you an’ Ledge. But, if yer not up for it—”

“No!” Sky is fast to interrupt. “No worries! I’m alright, truly. That sounds wonderful.” He gives the most reassuring smile he can muster, and it’s honest and true, for once.

Twilight’s frown lifts, a bit, and the slightly older man nods and steps away towards Wild and Wind, who are still cooking dinner.

Watch with Legend, huh? Could this be his chance?

A small bit of him warns that things could go very, very, wrong.

Luckily, the bigger part of him tells him that if he doesn’t say anything now he will run out of time to say anything at all.

So, that is that. Watch is set—blech, the middle shift—and Sky walks over to the rest of his friends before he can think any more of the situation.

“Sky!” Wind waves. “Come sit by us!”

‘Us’, in this case, happens to be himself, Wild, and Twilight, none of whom he’s opposed to being near. Thus, he picks his way to a spot on a ground, settling next to Wind. The smaller melts into his side (a common occurrence), and Sky happily accepts a bowl of pumpkin soup.

It’s not the same as from his home, of course, but it’s still soup and there’s still pumpkins. He’s still satisfied by the taste.

“Thank you, Wild,” he says, setting the now-empty bowl beside him.

Wild grins crookedly. “‘Course, Sky, I’m glad you liked. Seconds?”

Sky shakes his head. “Not tonight.”

The sailor, on the other hand, shoots up, mouth completely stuffed. “‘ll take ‘is s’rv’in’!”

“Calm yerself, sailer, others gotta eat,” Twilight chides.

“Meanie.” Wind crosses his arms with a pout. Sky ruffles the top of his head, a fond look surely on his face, and the smaller does not shy away.

He spares a glance to Legend and Hyrule, across the fire. The former is staring, brows furrowed, but looks away as soon as he notices Sky’s gaze. The latter continues chattering away as if nothing happened (and, in their eyes, nothing did happen).

Overall, the fire is warm and his belly is full. His friends sit around him and talk and snort and sigh, contentment filling the air. Sure, they have double watches set up, the tension is high, and they are exhausted, but they are together and they are (physically) healthy. Sky could not ask for much more.

So, Sky turns in for the beginning of his rest. Wind is sprawled next to him, looking like the starfish they all claim to exist.

Three hours later, Time is shaking him awake.

“You’re up, Sky. Four’s already woken Legend,” he whispers.

Sky nods. This is a song they’ve danced to many times.

Seeing him up and aware, the oldest moves to his bedroll with a soft ‘goodnight’. The Skyloftian echoes it in turn, before advancing towards the dying embers and confusing veteran.

At first, the watch is normal. Sky watches one side whilst Legend watches the other. There isn’t much talking—there never is, on the second watch, what with tired eyes and restless heroes—but the bit that is remains light and regular. For a moment, he can almost forget the anxiety that’d been eating him away earlier.

Then, Sky makes a comment that shatters the glass around them.

“Oh c’mon, vet,” he rolls his eyes. “We both know you use those trinkets of yours quite often.”

The chuckle Legend gives sounds forced, and Sky is hit with a pang of guilt. It was meant as a simple jab—nothing more nor less—but it maybe it was too biting?

Sky takes the second to study Legend’s newfound stance. He’s hunched in on himself, hands hugging knees, and despite not being able to see his face, Sky can assume his expression is that of a resigned sort of scowl.

It’s the same reaction he’s seem many times on multiple others. Twilight when scolded by Time; Wild when scolded by Twi; Wind when scolded by Warriors; Hyrule when scolded by Legend. It is not a reaction he expected to receive from their veteran, let alone one to be stemmed from him.

It spikes a whole new pang of worry.

He turns back before Legend can catch his face. “Sorry, Ledge. I like your items a lot. It’s not a problem to use ‘em, you know.”

From the corner of his eye, he catches the tension release, just a little bit. Enough, though, to know he said the right thing. Good.

Legend doesn’t give a response besides a light bump of the shoulders. The watch continues in a not-quite-awkward but not-quite-comfortable silence.

Creeeeak.

Sky’s head is up in an instant, scanning and pausing and reviewing the treeline in front of him. His ears twitch and try to catch every little thing, from the scamper of a mouse to the rustle of the wind. He’s certain Legend is doing the same, on his end.

A beat passes. Two. Three.

Legend’s breath hitches. “Bokoblin. One o’ Wild’s, reckon.”

“The others?” Sky whispers, voice barely making a sound.

“No. It’s just one. On three?”

Sky nods.

One beat. Two.

“Three!” Legend hisses.

Sky springs up, Master Sword poised to strike and shield up to block. Legend follows in a similar manner, clutching the Tempered Sword and some sort of shield. The ‘blin barely reacts before Sky is moving, moving, moving, slashing at the beast with a ferocity he didn’t realize he possessed this late at night.

The monster bleeds black.

Legend notices too, and lets out a soft string of curses before he’s in on the action. They trade blows, one then the other then both at the same time.

The bokoblin does not back down. It swings its own sword at their ankles, then their waists, then their heads. Wide arcs that make it near impossible to get in, despite the fact that the odds are two to one.

Legend pushes and knocks it off balance, and Sky seizes his chance. He steps into the circle, sword going faster than a blink, and stabs through the head. The Master Sword glints on the other side. The beast dissolves into nothing save a gem and some guts.

Sky lets out a cheer and turns to Legend.

Who’s eyes, suspiciously, are blown wide with fear. Did he get hurt? Had Sky missed something during the heat of the battle?

He stumbles forward—wait, stumbles? Sky shouldn’t be stumbling, he didn’t get hurt, just look down—oh. That’s blood. On his tunic. On his stomach.

Shit.

Pain erupts from the area, stabbing and scorching and hot in a way it really should not be, not on a fresh wound, not unless it’s infected—

“Sky? Sky! Stay with me, hero, stay with me.” Legend is frantic and holding his shoulders, lowering him carefully to the ground. Why is he so panicked? It’s not that bad, right?

Another shot of pain rocks his body, and he bites back a scream with practiced expertise.

Nevermind, it is definitely that bad.

Still, though, Legend is upset, and he can’t have that. Legend shouldn’t be upset, not because of him.

“I’m okay,” he gasps. “‘m fine, Ledge, just needa—” a coughing fit fights its way out and he cant stop it.

“You ain’t fine, you needa potion or sum. Hold on fer me, ‘kay? Hold on, ‘ll get Roolie or, or,” Legend stops, stares, and then darts up and away. Sky frowns, because Legend is still stressed and he can tell because his accent is loose and free and that is not something he often does.

He holds on for as long as he can, though. He can hear shouts and people getting up and running and since when did they get so far? What’s even happening? Is someone hurt?

Ow. Right. Sky is hurt.

His stomach doesn’t feel so good. It feels sticky and hot and gross and bad and he doesn’t like it. Maybe a nap will help? Naps usually help when he’s tired, they always have. Maybe he should nap.

Just as his eyes start to fall shut, someone shakes him, yelling and shaking and yelling and shaking. Bright, violet, eyes meet dull sky blue, panicked and calm and panicked and calm and ow ow ow everything hurts so bad.

The violet eyes have a mouth attached, and it keeps opening and closing but he can’t hear anything. Should he be hearing something?

Something cold presses against his stomach and he hisses. It keeps going, pushing and pushing, but the cold becomes warm and soft and comfortable. Sky could nap, like this.

Despite his eyes fluttering shut, someone grabbed and shook him, yet again. He really wishes they’d stop, he’s trying to nap here!

“—descendant!” They say.

…What?

Now significantly more interested, Sky strains his ears to listen closer. Oh, cool, the warm-yet-cold hands gave some of his hearing back. That’s nice.

“I’m—or—dant!”

They’re… huh?

“I’m royal!”

The Chosen Hero blinks. Once, twice, three times. His vision is so blurry he can’t make anything out besides those glaring eyes and disheveled hair.

The pain is subsiding, a little bit, so that’s neat.

What did they mean… royal?

Oh. Oh! Wait! Him and Sun start the royal bloodline of Hyrule, don’t they? This person could be referring to that! Is it a Zelda? Did one of the other Zeldas come? They’re so sweet, all those young women, and it triggers something in him that’s quite enjoyable. Maybe, once this pain quiets down, he can talk to them? That’d be just wonderful.

He closes his eyes again, humming in contentment when the unknown Zelda doesn’t shake him back. The sharp and burning and horrible ache is nothing more than annoying, now, and he’s slept much worse than this. He falls unconscious, unaware to the trembling hero next to him.

What could be minutes or hours or even days later, Sky opens his eyes again. It’s dark out, and stars shine brightly up above. Trees dot the outline of his vision.

He tries to sit up. His lower abdomen protests vehemently, and he has to abandon such efforts. Something between a groan and whine escaped him, despite his feeble attempts to swallow it whole.

“Sky?” Someone asks. “Sky! You’re awake!”

He looks towards the voice, and is pleasantly surprised to see Legend. He made it out of the fight! There’s no visible bandages, or splints, or anything but concerned eyes and a soft face.

Sky musters up the best smile he can. “I’m okay, Ledge.” He pushes up again, and this time makes it as far as propping his weight onto his elbows. His stomach screams, but he’s alright, truly.

“You damn better be,” the vet mutters, but he helps push the chosen hero up the rest of the way. Sky nods his thanks, before scanning their camp.

It’s still the same place they were last time. A small grove in the middle of uncharted woods, somewhere so random that no one knows who’s Hyrule it is or even if it is anyones. There are six sleeping forms and the outline of Wolfie.

There is no Zelda. He distinctly remembers a Zelda being there, after he was injured. Did she leave? He wanted to talk to her.

“Where did she go?” Sky asks, frowning. That’s unfortunate.

Legend raises an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Zelda,” he says, like it’s obvious. “She was here whenever… I got hurt, I guess.”

“Sky,” Legend looks very confused. “There wasn’t ever anyone’s Zelda here. Why would you think so?”

His words are thought out, slower, deeper than the mess he’d been when Sky was injured. That’s good, it means the vet has had time to breathe and calm down since then.

“There wasn’t? But someone mentioned being of royal descent, did they not?” Had he made that entire conversation up? Something of delusion built from blood loss and poison?

Legend’s expression freezes; a blush creeps across his ears. “You, uh, you heard that?”

“Yes?” How could he not? They were shaking and shouting, for Hylia’s sake!

“Oh.”

Sky is growing quickly more confused, and concerned, and he remembers why he was so nervous around Ledge in the first place. Something was wrong—no, something is wrong—and he wants to figure it out.

“Legend? Did something happen? Are you alright?”

The veteran shakes his head. “You got stabbed, Chosen. Scared the hell outta us.”

But that doesn’t answer about the past week or the mysterious person who he’s very very certain said they were related to him.

“I’m sorry,” he starts. Before the other can object, Sky continues. “What about the Zelda, though? Or whoever it was? Someone said they were my descendant, I thought.”

Legend looks anywhere but at Sky’s face. It’s very suspicious. “That, uh, that doesn’t matter. You need rest.”

Sky uses his own arms to keep him up, despite the insistence of the pink-haired hero to get him to lay back down. The more lucid he is, the less the pain matters. It’s nothing, now. He’s done more on less.

“No, wait, Ledge—”

“It was me,” he whispers, and it’s as quick as the pegasus boots he loves so much.

“Hm?”

Legend flushes, continuing to look away. “It was, uh. It was me. I’m your…” he trails off into something incoherent.

Sky raises an inquisitive brow.

“Don’t make me say it,” Legend scowls.

“Say what?”

“You know what!” And Sky really does. He wants to hear Legend admit it for himself, though.

“Stab wound,” he deadpans instead.

Legend huffs and pouts and crosses his arms, scowl deepening, then softening, then deepening again.

A beat passes. No one stirs except for the two exhausted heroes.

“Fable—my Zelda—she’s my sister. I’m the Prince of Hyrule, technically.” Legend brings his knees up to his chest and hugs them, eyes downcast, stance tense and so similar to how it was by the fire, that night.

Everything clicks into place very neatly.

Legend is not upset with Sky. He is worried about Sky, worried he’s been a disappointment, worried that he’s somehow made a mistake. So he cut back on snarks and rolled eyes, on cocked hips and wide gestures, replaced it with something subdued and a (quite frankly horrid) attempt at being something different.

“Can I hug you?” Sky asks, because it’s the only thing he can think of saying.

The veteran—the teenager, really—all but jumps. But, exactly as he hoped he would, the boy uncurls himself just enough to nod and accept the arms barrelling into him.

Sky represses a gasp (ow ow ow, next time, do not fall into someone’s arms with a scabbed stab wound, good Hylia), and squeezes tight, pouring every ounce of care he can in. This is his descendant, his kid, and it’s such a rush of emotions he’s surely going to have to process later but for right now Legend slots perfectly into his arms and all is well.

“You’re not… you’re not mad?” The boy rasps.

Sky uses one hand to comb through unruly hair. Jeez, did this kid brush it at all while he was unconscious? He’s going to have to use the recently acquired dad-card to fix that.

“Why’d I be mad, Ledge?”

From where he’s pressed the other against his chest (how did he never realize Legend was so small? Has he seriously never hugged him before?), Sky can’t see the expression he’s making. He can well assume, though, that’s something along the lines of furrowed brows and pressed lips, confusion evident with a hint of something else.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Legend finally decides on, and Sky almost laughs at how absurd the question is.

He pulls back to look the boy in the eyes. “Legend, you are a wonderful person who has done wonderous things. You have faced atrocities that no person should, and come out stronger, better, and you have done it again and again, because you care for people less fortunate than you.” His descendant’s eyes are blown wide, wide, wide, and the deep black spots are all the more obvious; no wonder he’s so open, right now, there is not a single ounce of sleep in that body. “I know I haven’t known you long, but I am so proud of you regardless, Legend, and I have no words for how happy I am that I am somehow related to you.”

Violet eyes stare into sky blue, expression lax in a way Sky has not seen before, details in the starlight that are old to one but new to the other.

Sky is hit with the fact that he has never looked at the veteran before this. Not hard enough to point out the little things, like the freckles or light scars or baby hairs.

“Oh,” Legend murmurs, casting his gaze downwards and caving in on his own body a bit more. “Okay.”

“Legend,” eyes flick up once more, “I’m being genuine.”

“I know.” A long pause. “I know, it’s just not that simple, I guess. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Ledge.”

Legend’s eyes go wide, wide, wide, once more. “The others can’t know I’m Fable’s brother.”

That is definitely something Sky is going to address at a later date.

For now, he hopes that the glint his eyes get is mischievous and his smirk comes across correctly. “Exactly.”

Legend does not look convinced.

“We’ll be like Twi and the champion were, for a while. Imagine how pissed Wars an’ Wind’ll be trying to figure it out,” Sky says, because while he’s seen hell he’s still just barely twenty and the epitome of a little shit.

(Holy Hylia, he’s going to have to address that later. How do Twilight and Wild do this all day? They’re barely a few years apart!)

Legend stares at him, and then lets out a cackle of a laugh. Real and honest, all because of Sky, and hope blooms in his chest. The other is undoubtedly the hardest nut to crack and Sky is finally getting through, after months of work.

Soon, he starts laughing too. He can’t help it! The vet’s laugh is so contagious, and he’s rocking back on his knees, and Sky is wheezing, and they’re both definitely delirious.

They’re also a bit too loud, because even as their giggles subside, the other Links begin stirring. Hyrule first, the lightest sleeper by far, but Wind and Wild and Wars follow not long after. The chain wake to two grinning brothers, and while they don’t understand it, they’re joining in as well.

Sky’s stomach hurts like a bitch, which is not a word he uses lightly, but he feels happy in an odd sense. A lot has happened—too much—but he can ignore it in favor of a good laugh with his brothers.

[graysmiles-world]

Steddie Faking Dating, Part 1

Eddie Munson was cuckoo bananas. Steve knew that. The entirety of Hawkins High knew that. Most of Hawkins, in general, knew that. Which makes it all the more insane that Steve did what he did.

He fell in love with him.

Trust him. Steve knows how mad, psycho, and every other word there is for “batshit crazy” there is for it. But he can’t help it! Steve’s a romantic at heart, and Eddie is the most romantic person he’s ever met. He wraps around Steve like an octopus, kissing every bit of skin in reach. He’s sung, like, at least four different songs for Steve on his electric guitar, which he didn’t even know could be romantic. 

All in all, Steve was in love. Flipped around the head and spun until you’re dizzy kind of love. Although he hadn’t said it yet, Steve imagined Eddie feeling the same. Like the stares that Steve feels whenever he turns away from Eddie are brands pressed hot against his cheek. Like every kiss, cheek grab, and cuddle, Eddie pushed his love into Steve in any way he could. Eddie was always the more physical of the two.

But they weren’t yet at the stage where an “I love you” is acceptable. With Nancy, Steve was the one who said it first, two days after their fifth-month anniversary. Nancy said it back but later was informed that she never loved him. He’s going to take it more carefully with this one. They were only a few days past four months in, and it was much too soon to be throwing around the ‘L’ word. Steve just sat - zoning off on break at his summer Scoop’s Ahoy! job. He just turned over the words in his mind until they were no longer recognizable, but the feeling was still warming his chest.

“Steve!” Robin’s harsh shout comes from the front. Steve lurched from his daydream. Suddenly, the sound of crying children and the stickiness of the table in front of him became a reality.

Steve groaned, tilting back until the chair he sat on tipped back, and he could look back at the clock. It took him a second, it being upside down, but it was definitely only 2:28 p.m.

“I’ve got two minutes left!” he shouted, letting his chair fall back on all four legs. He ignored Robin’s grumbling and threats of bodily mutilation to stare at the blank wall before him and breathe in the sickly sweet smell of melted ice cream. It was petty, sure, but Robin had done the same to him, like, three times since the summer started. And he was not one to give up 120 seconds of precious zoning out time.

“Dingus!” Robin shouted, sounding much closer than before. She banged open the door to the backroom, the knob hitting the wall and leaving a mark.

“Jesus, Buckley!” Steve jumps, looking over to her unimpressed scowl and crossed arms. 

“Break time’s over,” she tapped her wrist, despite the fact that there was no actual watch there. Steve rolled his eyes and grabbed the sailor's cap from where he threw it at the start of his break.

Robin laughed at his quiet grumbles as he passed him, patting him condescendingly on the back. She let the door swing shut, and Steve flinched at the large bang that echoed throughout the storefront. Avoiding the many kids’ and adults’ eyes, he turned back to admonish her - only to find that Robin wasn’t even there.

Steve could hear her witch’s cackle through the closed window, but it could have just been in his head, to be fair. But instead of arguing with her, which would lead to several customer complaints, he let her take her break. Steve was not in the mood to deal today.

He crammed the stupid hat on his head and turned to the storefront where a couple of giggling preteens already stood. 

After, he just amused himself by looking over to the clock (which definitely moved at like half the speed as the clock in the breakroom, he’s sure of it) and returned to work. Robin joined after her own break, and they worked in tandem. It turns out they’re an okay team when they’re not at each other’s throats, but Steve won’t say that not wanting to tempt fate in one of her many taunts. Robin seemed just as tired of scooping ice cream as he was, so she didn’t even make any snide comments as they closed up Scoops Ahoy! for the night. 

The next day went mostly the same, but Steve was much more excited.

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Robin asked, looking concerned at his constant smile. It wasn’t even a customer service one, but a real one. One hurt Steve’s cheeks a bit from how much he was beaming.

“Nothing, just having a friend come over tonight,” he told her - trying to seem casual. Something told him, though, that his “super casual shrug” didn’t help him. Heat crept up his neck and ears, and Steve was grateful that most of it was covered by hair.

Robin leaned forward onto the counter, setting her chin on her fists and fluttering her eyelashes daintily at him. “Oh, is this a lady-friend perhaps? One that you wooed with your ‘Steve Harrington Charm,’” she said - making bunny ears around “Steve Harrington Charm.” 

“No,” he said, shaking his head and focusing on the mint chip ice cream he was switching out with a new batch. “I told you, I’m not interested in a relationship right now.”

Robin snorted meanly, “Sure.”

Desperate to turn the conversation off himself and onto her: “Hey, what about you? Got any secret admirers out there?”

Steve still wasn’t looking at his coworker, but he could hear her choke at the question. It felt a little good, he won’t lie, turning it back around on her.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” she said after a moment, tapping her fingers against the counter to the beat of the corny song constantly playing through the speakers. “Might hang out with him after work today,” she shrugged, “Don’t know yet.”

Steve nodded, grabbing the empty ice cream container and returning it to the back to be taken out with the rest of the trash at the night's end. Thankfully, that won’t be him because he was able to get out early by switching with Clark, one of the other “crewmates.” He would have to take an early morning shift next Tuesday, but Steve still thought it was worth it. Eddie was coming over that night, and even though Steve could see him earlier that week, he couldn’t help but be excited. 

When Steve got home that afternoon, he immediately stripped from his uniform and threw it in the hamper, covering it with some other dirty clothes. Heaven knows how Eddie would react if he saw that piece of clothing.

He’d probably ask Steve to wear it for sex, to be honest. And not that Steve wasn’t up for that (he was always up to sex with Eddie), but he only had one of these uniforms, and it needed to last for the entire summer.

Steve then jumped in the shower, scrubbing the stink of the nauseating scent of gone-bad ice cream and kid vomit. Children shouldn’t have a double fudge sundae after running around in the hot sun for three hours. Who knew? Not that kid’s parents, from how they whined and tried to give explanations as Steve was forced to mop it up.

Robin had way too much fun laughing at him from behind the counter, so Steve went to the bathroom when he saw Erica approaching them across the food court. 

When Eddie knocked on Steve’s door at 3:45, fifteen minutes after he said he’d show up (like Steve knew he would be), the house was perfectly set up for movie night. Steve was already dressed in his old basketball sweatpants and one of Eddie’s shirts that he left behind too many times for Steve to be willing to give it back now. 

Also, the look on Eddie’s face whenever he saw Steve wearing one of his band t-shirts was one of Steve’s favorites. This is only made better by Steve immediately shutting down any lust building him in eyes with an eye roll and a pull towards the couch.

Eddie whistled, “All setup, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Steve threw a throw pillow at the back of Eddie’s head, uncaring the squawk he let out. “Shut up.”

“Betrayed!” Eddie flailed about, falling back onto the couch, one foot on the cushion. “Hoaxed! Hoodwinked!”

Steve snorted, slapping Eddie’s socked foot aside and falling towards him - making sure to land on his outstretched hands and now Eddie’s ribs. He pressed his lips against Eddie’s before he started the dramatic monologue that Steve knew was coming.

Eddie surrounded immediately, moving to clutch his (or Eddie’s) shirt in both hands. Steve kept the kiss from becoming too dirty because he wanted to watch some movies but was content to make out for a few minutes longer. And God, did Eddie know how to make out with someone? It was wet and hot, sloppy than any other make-out he’d had with anyone else - but Steve loved it. He loved him. 

He felt that familiar bubbling in his stomach, the urge to lean back and spit it out - so instead, he pressed forward. He dug his tongue between Eddie’s lips as he liked and let him do it before. Eddie’s stubble scratched against his cheeks, and his shoulder started hurting a bit, but Steve didn’t ever want to move. 

Unfortunately, the choice was taken from him when Eddie pulled back, chuckling a bit when Steve tried to follow. “It seems my swindling worked,” he crowed quietly, pressing short but hard kisses against everything but Steve’s lips. 

Steve opened his eyes, staring right into Eddie’s endlessly dark eyes. They were crinkled, and it took everything in Steve not to melt into goo. Instead, he raised a brow. “You think you tricked me, Munson?”

Eddie guffawed a laugh, his chest bouncing underneath Steve’s. “Munson, huh? You brought me back down to last names, Harrington?”

Steve couldn’t handle being close to Eddie and not kissing anymore, so he mumbled, “You betcha, Munson,” before returning to the previously scheduled content. 

Steve could have spent the rest of his life kissing Eddie on this couch. Unfortunately for both of them, their young bodies couldn’t hold up in that position forever, and they were forced to move only a few minutes later. It was only then that Steve remembered the original purpose for Eddie coming over that night.

“Alright,” he said, pushing back from Eddie’s warmth. “I didn’t just invite you to make out.”

“You didn’t?” Eddie asked, pouting like it was terrible news. Steve just rolled his eyes (he swore, one day, they were going to get stuck like that). He kicked at Eddie’s leg that was being dragged teasingly up his own and stumbled over to the TV - unapologetically adjusting himself in his sweatpants. He ignored Eddie’s groan at the sight and busied himself with picking a movie.

“Which one do you want? Steve called back to him. 

“What do you got?” Eddie called back, too lazy to stand over and come over to see for himself.

Steve shuffled through the VHSs, cringing at the choices. They were all from when he was a kid when his parents loaded up on movies so he wouldn’t bother them. 

“Uh,” Steve started - trying to find some that wouldn’t be terrible to watch. “Superman 1 and 2, Jaws, Willy Wonka in the Chocolate Factory,” he listed them out, not thinking as he went from VHS to VHS.

“What the fuck, Stevie!” Eddie crackled behind him. “What’s with these movies?”

Steve felt the back of his neck go hot. “They’re all from when I was a kid, okay?”

“Wow, kid you had a shit taste.”

Steve laughed but covered it up with a cough, but not very successfully from Eddie’s crackle from behind him. “Do you want to help pick one, or are you just going to complain the whole time,” he glared mockingly at Eddie. 

When Eddie finally decided to wander over, they chose Monty Python and Holy Grail, which came with the least amount of ribbing from Eddie. 

Steve went into the kitchen to pop some popcorn and grab some beers while Eddie made a nest from the blanks and pillows. He did it whenever they were getting comfy, so Steve dragged down the softest blankets around the house. 

When Steve returned to the living room, he could see the mop of curly dark hair barely visible above the mound of blankets. Once more, that bubbly, giggly feeling rose in his chest. He felt almost bouncing as he made his way over to his boyfriend, setting down the food before moving to turn on the TV. When the opening music rang through the house, Steve jumped on the other cushion, watching as Eddie screeched at his tower of softness that fell off of him and over onto Steve’s lap. Ignoring Eddie’s protests, Steve gathered some to wrap around himself, curling up so his head rested on the couch's arm, his feet tangling with Eddie’s - who was doing the same.

Steve settled in, letting every lousy thing he carried with him flow out with every giggle Eddie tried to hide, and every time he crowed to the screen, definitely not trying to silence those. Steve dozed, letting the lights and sound of the television wash over him with the warmth of Eddie’s legs pressed against his own. He felt Eddie stroking his ankle, the chill of his rings against his sleep-warmed skin making Steve kick a bit. 

Finally, when the movie ended and the credits started to roll, Eddie rolled up to his feet. He left his hair in the crazy mess that it was, moving over to where Steve was still lying horizontal on the couch. Steve looked up at him through squinted eyes, barely able to see the curve of his lips in the dim lighting.

“Hey, let’s get you to bed,” Eddie told him, running his hands through his hair. Steve grumbled, wanting to stay in the warmth of the blankets, in Eddie’s heat. He must have told him that because Eddie’s smile faded, and a frown took his place. “Sorry, Stevie, I can’t tonight.”

Something cold rushed over him, goosebumps erupting all over his arms and the back of his neck. He pushed himself so he was sitting, dislodging Eddie’s hand. Eddie held his hand out for a second, debating where to set it, but just dropped it so it hung limply at his side. Steve smiled at him, letting his sleepy exterior hide the little tick in his heartbeat. 

“That’s okay,” he whispered, not wanting to ruin their created atmosphere. “Just get home safe, okay?” Steve leaned forward, pecking him on the cheek. 

Eddie’s expression smoothed out, the glint returning. “Of course, sweetheart.” He stood up, smacking a significant kiss against Steve’s hair with a mwah! Steve watched him stumble over to his shoes, jumping as he crammed them on his feet. He saluted Steve before falling through the door, out into the darkness and out of sight. 

Steve sat there for another minute or two or ten. He only stood up when the air conditioner kicked on, chilling the air. He thought momentarily about curling back in the blankets and falling asleep on the couch. But it looked unappetizing in the moonlight without anyone to warm it up. 

He flopped onto his bed, covers cool against his face, and he barely flipped up the blankets and got under them before the phone on his nightstand began to ring. Steve groaned, looking over to the clock. 

“Who’s calling at 1 a.m.?” he grumbled, grabbing the phone and resisting the urge to yell at whoever was on the other end. “Hello?” 

“Hey Stevie,” Eddie said, a smile apparent in his voice. Steve felt his shoulders relax; something cracked in his body smoothing at the sound of his voice. “Just wanted to let you know I got home okay.”

“Yeah,” Steve swallowed, “That’s good. Thanks.”

“And I had to say sorry about being unable to stay over,” Eddie continued. Steve fell, so he was on his back, cord stretching to lie comfortably. 

“It’s fine-” he tried to say, but Eddie interrupted.

“It’s just that Uncle Wayne needs my help in the trailer in the morning, fixing up the shower and whatnot.” 

“Oh,” Steve breathed. Whatever else that was displaced from Eddie’s disappearance was gone. “I understand.” He didn’t. He can’t remember the last time his dad asked for his help or the previous his mother wanted him home in the morning.

“Yeah, but I’ll see you soon - okay?” There was a thud and a curse. “Shit, I just slammed my elbow into the wall.”

Steve chuckled laughter loudly in such a silent room. “Of course you did.”

“Dick,” Eddie chuckled. “I’ll let you get some rest. Good night, Steve.”

“Good night, Eddie,” Steve said, and the phone went dead. Steve white-knuckled the handle, just looking up at the ceiling. He returned it on the receiver when the buzz grew too much and rolled over. Within moments, he was asleep. 

Next Part ->

[fraserstanclub]

Sutures

Chapter 8: Rumors, Part 1

I was in what I was starting to consider “my'' room, attempting to make notes on the last few patients I had seen in recent weeks, when Jamie unsettlingly burst through the door and said, with all the confidence of a man in his stature, “if yer tae stay here, Sassenach, we’ll need tae get the surgery built as fast as possible, and the weather’s good. If what the Lindsay brothers are saying is correct, this coming winter willna be kind to us and it’ll make it much harder fer ye to travel to yer patients. So, starting tomorrow morning, I’ll need yer help getting started.” 

As if a complete afterthought, he looked around the room, seeming to notice my things scattered about for the first time. There were clean stays and shifts being aired out to dry by the open window, sheets of paper and used quills that I hadn’t quite gotten around to picking up off the floor, and a stray stocking laying on the chair by the bed. He nodded to himself and said, “ye can keep this room as yer own if ye like.” And then he was gone as fast as he’d come in.

It had only been a few weeks since I had healed his leg and back, and it was like he’d never been hurt in the first place. He either had some kind of knack for healing quickly, or was just too stubborn to stay down for long. Probably the latter, I thought with amusement.

Read on AO3 New here? Read from the beginning!

[jeeyuns]

Buck's Reality Checklist

as part of my initiative to remix my own words, i give you what i imagine buck to have written when he visited maddie and told her about his coma vs. real world checklist after thinking on dr. salazar's words in 6x12:

Buck: When I wake up, and I mean like every single time, I have this checklist now that I run in my head, like a way to test that I'm really here. Maddie: So, what do you check?

with buck's research tendencies, i'm pretty sure he would have research binged the SHIT out of this topic. so i did too, and boy is it interesting. the first couple are common and popular items that have been found on coma/lucid dream/nightmare reality check lists.

also on ao3

image ID/alt text for easier reading:

[ID/alt text: a torn out coffee-stained and waterlogged page from a beat up yellow Five Star Notebook, sitting on top. The title of the list reads: Reality Checklist

Turn over & look at the digital alarm clock. If the numbers can all be read, this is real.

Try to breathe through a fully closed nose. If impossible, this is real.

Pick up the phone & text EdBobby to say hello. If he responds (always), this is real.

Press a finger against one palm. If willing it to go through does nothing, this is. real.

Get up & turn on the light switch. If it automatically goes on, this. is real.

Look down at feet & focus on counting all ten toes. If all counts out as intended, this (check your math!), this is real.

Go down the stairs & to the frigifridge. If pictures with the Diaz boys are still there, this is real.

Eddies still has Chris. They’re in the 2ⁿᵈ photo from the bottom, smiling :) This was taken last month. LOOK. This is real.

I'm still in love with Eddie. Oh my god, I love, I l still love him. I LOVE him. I love Eddie. THIS IS REAL.

Eddie trusted me with Chris. Chris wanted me to come back.. He TOLD me to come back fromwhere I was. I CAME BACK. I came back. I did, I did, I did. THIS. IS REAL.

You have your life back & you wondered if coming back here is worth it. It is. Your asked yourself if they need you. They do. They do. You MATTER, you MATTER, YOU matter. Happiness is in the doing, right? Do. Fight. Because you matter.

You got this Evan Buckley.]

[landondeeznuts]

𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

Pairing: Cole Brookstone x Gender Neutral MC

Rating: PG

Summary: Gender Neutral Reader who so happens to be Kai and Nya's (I guess Lloyd's too) Cousin, meets Cole while shopping. Cole is also a little shy in this story

(Posted over on Ao3 first)

Y/n was happily flipping through vinyl records in the store, drawn into the soft rock section. Amid the nostalgic tunes, a tall guy with tousled black hair caught their eye. His headphones created a zone, shutting out the world as he searched for the perfect track. Unbeknownst to Y/n, the record they were after was right in front of this stranger.

Summoning some courage, they tapped him on the shoulder. "Can I help you?" he asked kindly. Y/n felt a slight flush. "I don't suppose I can squeeze in there to get that," they gestured to the record they had their eye on. "Oh, sorry, yeah, of course," he replied, making space for them. As Y/n reached for the record, they couldn't help but notice Cole's handsome face, somewhat obscured by a plain black hoodie and inconspicuous sweats. Yet, the attire couldn't hide the undoubtedly muscular arms beneath. A warm familiarity lingered in the air, tugging at the edges of Y/n's consciousness.

Tilting their head, Y/n couldn't resist asking, "Do I know you? You look oddly familiar." Cole, caught off guard, responded with a nervous chuckle, "Me? Uh, I don't think so." His gaze momentarily wandered, glancing over Y/n's shoulder before refocusing. Suddenly, it clicked for Y/n—the amber eyes, the thick curly black hair, the strong jawline—all reminiscent of the elemental master of earth, Cole, that they had vividly heard about.

"Is your name Cole?" Y/n asked, excitement and realization evident in their voice. He froze, eyes widening with surprise and curiosity. "Uh... you... how do you know me?" Y/n chuckled, feeling a connection through Kai's shared stories. "Kai," they revealed with a grin. "Kai?" Cole's astonishment was palpable. "Yeah, he's my cousin."

"Kai mentioned me?" Cole inquired, still processing the unexpected encounter. "He's mentioned all of you," Y/n reassured him with a smile. His response was a sincere "Wow... that's... wow," as he shifted, still processing the revelation. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Cole." “Y/n,” they replied, returning the warmth with a smile. “That’s a really nice name,” Cole complimented, a genuine smile playing on his lips. Y/n found themselves basking in the easygoing atmosphere, an unspoken understanding growing between them.

Gesturing towards the record, Cole asked, “You wanted that one, right?” Y/n nodded, their shared interest bridging the gap between strangers. “Here, I’ll just—” Before Y/n could respond, Cole gracefully moved behind them, his proximity sending a gentle thrill through Y/n. He leaned over their shoulder to retrieve the record, and Y/n couldn't help but blush at the unexpected closeness. “Kai failed to mention you're a gentleman,” Y/n teased, playfully acknowledging the subtle gesture.

“Oh, you… uh…” Cole stammered, suddenly self-aware. Straightening up, he handed the record to Y/n with a charming smile. “And cute,” Y/n added, causing Cole's blush to intensify. “Uh…. heh…” Y/n hid a chuckle behind their hand. “Real cute.” Cole's gaze met theirs, a genuine smile forming on his face. “I… um… you’re cute, too…” His admission was met with a reciprocal blush from Y/n, the air thickening with unspoken chemistry.

“Why thank you,” Y/n beamed, the exchange creating a delightful rapport. “Of course,” Cole replied, a subtle grin playing on his lips. Emboldened by the shared moment, Y/n couldn't resist a playful tease. “Hey… uh… um…” Cole looked at the price tag and then back at them. “Are you busy this evening?” Y/n, contemplating the answer with a playful demeanor, looked up. “Schedules free.” Cole's surprise was evident. “Oh? Well… um… would you like to… I dunno… do something together?”

The air crackled with anticipation as Y/n hummed, leaning in a bit. "Like?" they inquired, inviting Cole to share his thoughts. Cole, momentarily flustered, cleared his throat and looked down. "Well, there's a coffee shop that's open late near here, and I thought we could get coffee there." Y/n's smile widened. "Coffee sounds nice." Cole visibly relaxed. "Great! Uh, should we meet there at, I don't know, seven? Or do you have other plans?" After a moment, he spoke again. "It might be a little late... how about we make it six?"

"Six sounds great," Y/n sighed contentedly, their heart fluttering with excitement. "Okay, great. Um... the coffee shop's called 'The Rusty Cup,' it's on North Street, right next to that park. See you then?" Cole's smile held a hint of anticipation. "See you then," Y/n reciprocated with a smile. He nodded once. "Okay, see you then... y/n." The name rolled off his tongue with a warmth that lingered, leaving Y/n's heart racing in the most delightful and fluffy way.

______________________________________________________________

Time passed, and Y/n found themselves outside 'The Rusty Cup.' The soft glow of the coffee shop's warm lights spilled onto the sidewalk, creating an inviting ambiance. A cool evening breeze played with the edges of Y/n's hair as they waited, their heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and curiosity.

Just as they were about to enter, the door swung open, and there stood Cole, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "Hey," he greeted warmly, his amber eyes sparkling. Y/n returned the smile, feeling an inexplicable sense of ease in his presence. "Hi, Cole. Ready for that coffee?" they asked with a playful glint in their eye.

"Absolutely," he replied, holding the door open for them. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped them as they stepped inside. Finding a cozy corner, they settled into a pair of overstuffed chairs, the soft hum of conversation and the gentle whirr of the espresso machine creating a comforting backdrop.

As they sipped their coffee and exchanged stories, Y/n couldn't help but marvel at the effortless connection they were building. Cole, usually reserved, gradually opened up about his passion for music, sharing anecdotes about his adventures as the elemental master of earth. Y/n, in turn, revealed their own interests and dreams, creating a mosaic of shared experiences.

Time seemed to slip away unnoticed, and before they knew it, the coffee shop's closing hour approached. Reluctantly, they gathered their things, the night having woven an invisible thread between them. Standing outside, Y/n felt a sense of gratitude for the unexpected encounter and the easy camaraderie that had blossomed.

"Well, this was unexpectedly wonderful," Cole remarked, a soft smile playing on his lips. Y/n nodded in agreement, a warmth settling in their chest. "Definitely. We should do it again sometime," they suggested, the prospect of future meetings already brightening their thoughts.

Cole's eyes crinkled with a smile. "I'd like that. 

______________________________________________________________

The next day, Y/n found themselves happily lost in a tune when a bright idea crossed their mind. Why not share the exciting news with Kai, who unintentionally played a role in their unexpected encounter with Cole? Pulling out their phone, Y/n began crafting a message to Kai.

Y/n: Hey Kai! Guess who I bumped into at the record store yesterday? Your partner in crime, Cole! 😊

Kai's response was swift, embodying his usual quick-witted charm.

Kai: Oh, Cole! Stirring up trouble, I hope.

Y/n chuckled at the familiar banter, fully aware of Kai's penchant for teasing.

Y/n: Surprisingly, no trouble at all. Just helping me grab a record. He's a total gentleman.

Kai: A gentleman, huh? That's a new one. Did he pull out a chair for you at the coffee shop?

Y/n couldn't help but grin, picturing Kai's mischievous expression.

Y/n: You got it! How did you guess?

Kai: Lucky hunch. So, spill the beans. Why are you updating me? Should I be on high alert?

Y/n: No need to worry, just wanted to let you know your buddy's got some impressive manners. We got coffee, chatted about music, you know, the usual.

Kai: Coffee? Music? Sounds like a date. Should I be shopping for a wedding gift?

Y/n burst into laughter, imagining Kai preparing for a non-existent wedding.

Y/n: Hold your horses, matchmaker. It was just coffee. But hey, Cole did mention he's into music. Think he's hiding a secret playlist?

Kai: Oh, more than a playlist. Thinks he's the DJ of our ninja team. But don't be fooled; he's got a soft spot for cheesy love songs.

Y/n grinned, picturing Cole secretly vibing to love ballads. Kai's protective humor didn't go unnoticed.

Y/n: DJ Cole and his love for cheesy tunes noted. Thanks for the heads up, Kai. 😄

Kai: Anytime, cuz. Keep me posted on your coffee escapades. And remember, I've got my eye on that dunderhead.

Y/n chuckled, appreciating Kai's playful concern.

Y/n: Will do, Kai. You've got a front-row seat to this budding friendship.

As Y/n tucked their phone away, a warm feeling settled in their chest. Kai's teasing, sprinkled with a protective touch, hinted at a genuine care for family. The fluffy banter served as a comforting reminder of the support surrounding this newfound connection with Cole.

[bellessimaa]

“Shut up. I’m trying to sleep.”

“On me? You happen to have a bed, and an apartment, which also has a nice sofa-“

“You make a good pillow.”

“The outrage!” Draco gasped dramatically, ignoring how his heart danced to the beats of her whims. “I’m scandalized! All that I am, swept aside for meagre objectification! Tell me Granger- all that I amount to is a pillow?”

“A damned good one when you keep your mouth shut.”

Or

Draco ‘Hermione’s Pillow’ Malfoy.

Inspired by this post by @jaxxartbox

[thefoxesraven]

You Promised

All for the Game - Nora Sakavic

No Archive Warnings Apply, Seth Gordon, Seth Gordon's Brother, Jackson Gordon, Gordon Brother OC, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Anger, Brotherly Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide Attempt

Jackson Gordon is the youngest son out of seven, six years younger then the brother who actually took care of him and made him feel wanted. Six years younger then the brother who found him after he made one of the most stupid decisions he'd ever make. Six years younger then the brother that promised he'd get clean and stop doing drugs if he just got the help he needed for his mental health. Six years younger then the brother who broke the promise that got Jackson the help he needed and saved his life. It's what would of been Seth's 25th birthday. Jackson has a lot of anger and resentment for the brother that saved him and then threw his life away breaking a promise he clearly didn't actually care about.

[quillsandblades]

The Ability to Express

Summary:

She sees how he stops by her lab every day, complaining that it’s always messy and dirty, and then cleaning it up as she remains immersed in her own work. And then he shows up again the next day, and the day after that and so on and so on. Coming up with reasons and complains and excuses every day. Excuses to stay in her company, she knows.

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

 

Hange Zoe is a curious person. Her mind is always occupied, thinking, wondering, pondering, questioning. She thinks about her life, she thinks about the world, the Walls, the titans, the scouts.

Titans are fascinating, Hange thinks, with their morbid faces and petrifying grins, the way they resemble humans so uncannily and then pluck the very same humans off the ground and gobble them up so effortlessly, all in a spray of blood and mashed limbs. It is a sickening sight, but it makes questions pop in her head; are they conscious of what they’re doing? Do they enjoy it? Is it like a tasty meal for them? Then there are more questions: How is a titan made? They don’t seem to have any reproductive organs, so where do they come from? To what extent can they regenerate? Are there any other weak spots besides the nape?

All these answers lie in research and experiments. And she does that regularly, moving forward to quench that never-ending thirst for answers.

But there are other things that Hange Zoe wonders about as well.

She thinks about humans, their feelings, and dreams, because that’s what mostly drives one forward in a life like this. And she marvels. Marvels at the fact that something so abstract as anger, love, hope, hate, or envy can weave into such a tangible force that pushes and propels one onward when seemingly all is lost and gone and broken forever.

It is indeed an interesting thing, almost or perhaps even more so than studying the regeneration process of a titan-shifter. She has come to realize that emotions are a very complex thing. They are present in everyone, but they rise to the surface in a multitude of different ways. Each person is unique, and the ability of expression is one of the things that make them unique.

Some may argue, they may say that there are plenty of people out there who are emotionless, heartless, numbed by the cruelty of life.

Hange Zoe will disagree. It’s not that they’ve lost the ability to feel, it’s just that the way they express what they feel varies from the norm. She’s seen many people like that in the survey corps. Erwin, for example, the cold Commander, valiant and willing to sacrifice everything and anything for humanity. People say he’s lost all empathy, has become a shell of a man, or maybe it’s his position as the leader that’s done it.

He is like that to an extent, but deep down she knows there’s a person who cares about his comrades, whose sleep is haunted by the shadows of guilt every night, who enjoys the company of his friends, and even though it takes a good amount of alcohol to achieve it, Hange has seen his real self. The good-natured man who laughs with his friends and appreciates the simple joys that come with having the right people around you. She has also seen a spark of longing in his eyes, as he stares at them all laughing merrily together, as if he wants to carefully hold that moment in his hands and cradle it close to his heart, never to let go.

Then there’s Levi, Humanity’s Strongest soldier, a fearless man with a heart of stone.

Out of everyone, Hange thinks Levi is the most complicated person, a tough puzzle, an ancient language, almost lost to the ebb and flow of time. Almost.

And because Hange Zoe is a curious person—and surprisingly patient when it comes to her topic of interest—she has tried to read into those forgotten words, she has tried, and is still trying with every passing day, to untangle that complex web of words and actions and emotions that make up the Captain.

She likes the progress she has made.

Because it not only strengthens her friendship with him, but also proves her theory correct—if a man as stoic as Captain Levi possesses emotions, then the only thing that “emotionless” can mean is the inability to express in a way that falls under the definition of “normal”.

Levi’s way of expression is strikingly singular. And it’s fascinating.

Like how he barks harsh orders at his squad, making them endure tedious hours of bone-breaking training, without rest or meals. It’s his way of saying, don’t die out there. It’s seems cruel, yes, but Hange has seen the intensity in his gaze as he makes them work, and learnt to decipher that firm look; it’s determination. And concern. He wants to do everything in his power to protect and prepare them, arm them now in the security of the Walls, so they can survive once they step outside.

And when he gruffly burdens the poor new recruits with the responsibility of scrubbing the mess hall clean with only a toothbrush, Hange can see from the way his lips twitch at the corner and quickly morph into a scowl and from the slightest, most tiniest glint in his eyes, that he finds it amusing how his mere presence instills a deep fear within the younger recruits. Of course, Hange knows that there’s actually nothing to fear about Levi, but rumors can be powerful (she knows he would never kill someone if they as much as touched his cravat. He would break a few bones, but he wouldn’t kill them), and Levi doesn’t let the ones about him go to waste.

She sees his concern and care in the way he marches up to Erwin’s office, often accompanied by Hange, to remind him to pull your ass out of this paperwork and go visit the town or something, you’re being a pain in the ass for everyone. She sees the familiar glint of amusement—easily mistaken for anger at times—in his eyes as he throws insults at Mike in response to his jibes. Or the expression of content that she interprets from his relaxed brows and slackened features, when all of them are sitting together and drinking their worries away or recounting old stories.

Then there are also other things she notices.

She sees how he stops by her lab every day, complaining that it’s always messy and dirty and then cleaning it up as she remains immersed in her own work. And then he shows up again the next day, and the day after that and so on and so on. Coming up with reasons and complains and excuses every day. Excuses to stay in her company, she knows.

 Because it’s Levi and he never was like anyone else, and she knows that he considers her a close friend now but just can’t say that outright. So he paints his real words in criticism and insults that are actually nicknames and tells her every other day that is this a lab or a junkyard? Why didn’t you die of some shitty infection by now? I’m cleaning this up, or oi, when did you last eat something more than a mouthful, shitty-glasses? Eat this up right now or I’ll shove it down your throat, or get out of this hellhole and see the sun, you’ve been cooped up in here for three fucking days. And because she’s learning to read into those harsh words, Hange knows that he’s just taking care of her.

She sees how he no longer flips her over if she tries to ruffle his hair, or how he pretends not to listen to her endless rants but the moment she asks for an opinion, he’s the first one to say something out of everyone who’s listening. He’s often drinking tea late at night, or walking on the rooftop of the headquarters as nightmares become harsher than the aching need to sleep. And now, he lets her join him with far less grumbles than he did when they’d first met and Hange was eager to be friends. She observes keenly how their late night chats become more habitual and soon they start bringing over paperwork to finish up among soft exchanged words and cups of tea.

Hange notices many things, and among them, she spots the fact that Levi somehow expresses differently around her than he does around others.

And because Hange Zoe is a curious person, she decides to look deeper into this. She observes how he seems to talk a little more around her, or how his eyes hold a sharper emotion when they’re sitting under the stars. It’s not something she’s able to decipher. Not yet, but she’ll get there. Just like she did before. And she sees how he holds her gaze whenever they depart for an expedition and searches for her when they’re ready to head back; carrying lifeless bodies instead of the victory they aim for. His stare is burning, she feels it on her back as she rides ahead, and it’s like a solid, tangible thing. It’s always there.

She notes how he often seeks her out after a bad expedition; his eyes are weighed and heavy, swirling with darkness, when she opens the door of her lab or her room. Then they talk for a long time, until she feels her own vision swim with slumber. So Levi gets up to leave and she registers how the shadows beneath his eyes have dimmed ever-so-slightly and he stands straighter than before. And when he’s gone, she realizes that sleep comes easier than she thought it would before he came to her.

And she sees how he’s always grumbling about her oily hair, but never hesitates to grab the same hair and pull them to demand attention. How he’s always saying that she stinks but never backs away when she’s too close or loops an arm around him. And she knows if someone else were to do that, he would break their arm. (She also notes how the thought makes her feel giddy and warm in the most ridiculous way)

Then she sees how he constantly calls her four-eyes and shitty-glasses and mutters how she never cleans those frames. And the next second she feels them being snatched away from her face and the world blurs. But Levi she can see clearly, because he’s close, and she whines how he always does that, and she can see perfectly fine with dirty lenses. He pulls the glasses out of her reach and begins wiping them. Hange gives up and starts talking about her experiments while he’s at it, and she regards how he looks right into her eyes all the while he’s cleaning, and he’s taking his sweet time.

Once he’s done, he stares into her eyes once more, for a moment too long and then slips the frames up her nose. She blinks as the world comes into a beautiful focus and grins at Levi.

He’s still standing right there, looking up at her. And because Hange Zoe is a curious person, she decides to ask him that question which always rises in her head when he cleans her glasses. It may be a question that will clear many more things. So she asks him.

She asks him what kind of eyes does he like.

He says nothing and turns around to walk away. Her heart sinks but then she hears the mutter of, the color of shit.

And then he’s gone and Hange is still standing right there, but she’s smiling because she knows.

Because she was curious and she tried to read into the complex language that translated Levi and discerned the meaning of each gesture, each word, and each action. Because she studied his ability to express. And now she’s smiling because she knows.

She knows exactly what’s happening to them both.

[reine-du-sourire]

Amaranthine

Cheslock's in the library when Edward finds him, standing on tiptoes to reach a gilt-edged blue tome with golden letters dancing along its spine. With a soft grunt, Cheslock manages to tip it down and turns, triumphant, tucking the book under his arm. "Hiya, Ed." "Hello, Cheslock." Edward can't help a smile. "Are you busy?" Cheslock looks curiously at the elegant rectangular parcel that Edward is holding. "I can spare a minute. What have ya got there?"

Edward opens the box. "Some new inks. I only ordered black, but I received this set as well- it might have been an accident, or maybe they're just complimentary samples. I thought you might like to have them. I don't use colored inks."

"So send 'em back," Cheslock shrugs. His eyes scan the row of little jars nestled in black velvet lining, and he selects a bottle of deep reddish-violet ink, turning it over in his fingers. "It's nice stuff. Or save 'em."

"Or I could give them to you. It's hardly worth the bother to return them."

"Why would ya give 'em to me?"

"I thought you'd like them."

Cheslock picks up a midnight blue ink and rolls it back and forth between his hands, allowing it to clink gently against the purple-red one. "Where'd ya say you got 'em from?"

"Antoine & Fils," Edward replies. "My father's favorite manufacturer."

"Oh. Pricey." Cheslock passes the ink back. "Nah."

"As a gift, Cheslock! You don't have to pay me for them!"

"Not into gifts."

"As a favor to me, then? So I don't have to return them?"

"Not into favors either. I don't like owing people."

"It's not owing-! And- and it's not like you don't do favors, you've done favors for me, you gave me a massage last week-"

"That's 'cause ya squeak like a sick mouse, and it's funny."

Edward flushes. "I do not!"

"Yeah, ya do," Cheslock says lazily. He picks up the purple-red ink again. "Think the teachers'll have a fit if I hand in essays in this?"

"Cheslock, you shouldn't do that." Edward shakes his head. "You can use it to write your music. Or your letters home."

"Or I can make tattoos."

"You definitely shouldn't do that."

"You're the one who wanted me to take 'em."

"Yes, but not for tattoos!"

With a grin, Cheslock replaces the ink and takes the box from Edward, tucking it under his arm with the book and leaning forward to whisper directly into Edward's ear. "Maybe I'll give you a tattoo."

"Cheslock!"

"There's that sick mouse again. Is that why ya bought me fancy inks, 'cause I gave ya a massage? See? You can't stand owing anyone either, I bet."

"I said it's not owing! And I didn't buy them, they were complimentary!"

"You're such a gentleman, Midford." Cheslock's hand comes up to tug gently at Edward's earlobe. "Your ears go all pink when ya lie."

The rest of Edward's face goes vibrantly red as well. "Cheslock!"

"Thanks for the inks, Eddie. I've gotta go now. See ya 'round, okay?"

"Of course," Edward mumbles, and wonders whether his munificence will be the death of him.

The spring in Cheslock's step as he leaves the library suggests that it might not be, though, and Edward smiles.

Link to AO3

[foxxy-sensei]

In the end, there was no hope.

The lands were ravished and most of the people were gone. Not even the animals seemed to be spared.

The goddess wanted her chakra back and she was determined to have it. The remaining few knew there was nothing left to do, but give in. But what are humans, but bodies filled with egos, determination, and desperation.

There were very few of them left.

Many of her friends had died before the goddess was even released. Neji, Tenten, Choji, Gai, Inoichi, Shikaku Tsunade, and Gaara… Friends and family lost to the initial war. It only got worse from there. Slowly, but surely, the rest of her chosen family started to disappear from her life. Stolen from her by a selfish and vindictive woman.

She had just lost Lee a few days ago as he fought off an army of white Zetsu so that the rest of them could escape. He told her he was okay with this death. It would allow them to live and he would be able to see his beloved team again.

Naruto sighed tiredly. She wished she could say she cried, but she had no more tears to give. Only a prayer that what her friend wanted, came true in the end.

But that was a few days ago.

Now, the only ones of her precious people that were left were Kakashi, Sakura, Sasuke, Shikamaru, Hinata, Kurama, Obito, and the reanimated body of her father. And she knew that, soon, she would probably lose them as well.

For now, they had made their great escape. With the help of a makeshift boat and some seals, they had made it to the waters of Wave Country and crossed the perilous, whirlpool filled waters into Uzushiogakure. The only thing that truly kept them safe was Hinata and Naruto’s affinities for water chakra and Naruto’s Uzumaki blood. She had gripped the edge of the ‘boat’ so tight that the wood bit into her palm and caused her to bleed. The waters seemed to calm a bit after getting a taste. It was then that most of them realized that the destruction of Uzushio had to have been either an inside job or something far more sinister.

They stepped off their boat and onto the beaches. And while the others went on ahead to scope out the ruined village for suitable shelter and food, Naruto and her father were left standing in the sand, the Jinchuriki trembling with rage. Minato laid a comforting hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

“No one could be bothered to come here and lay the dead to rest.” Uzushio had been destroyed. The village was left in ruins… The dead were left in the sand. When her precious Konohagakure had been destroyed, Naruto had risked her life to go back and lay who she could to rest in a funeral pyre. But Uzushio was Konoha’s sister village and no one had bothered, in all of the years, to make sure that their fellow shinobi and citizens had seen a proper burial. Just left them to the sands and sun.

Minato hung his head. “I’m sorry, Naruto… Kushina. If I had known the Sandaime hadn’t seen to it himself, I would’ve come here personally to have it done.” He felt like he had failed his wife and daughter… More than he already felt, anyway.

Naruto bent to kneel in the sand and carefully picked up the skull of what seemed to be a fallen Uzushio shinobi. She was quiet for a long while, just wondering about who the poor soul could have been before they died. Finally, she spoke up.

“I will collect the remains of the dead and lay them to rest in a pyre on the far side of the island. Please let the others know that I would like to be left alone until then.” She created a few clones that set out to work. But before the real her could start the task as well, she felt her father’s gentle hand on her cheek, turning her head to make her look at him.

“I will never leave you alone. Not again. We will do this together.” He placed their foreheads together for a brief moment before pulling away and moving to sift through the sand for bones to collect, creating a few clones himself.

They worked quietly throughout the day and well into the evening. The rest of their group were scarcely seen except for when they were handing off scrolls with bodies that they had found themselves. No words were exchanged. Just quick, mournful glances. Shikamaru always seemed to be able to find the real Naruto when he was handing over scrolls. He would always brush his fingertips against the backs of her hands before disappearing into the shadows again.

The two had gotten closer during the war. They had spilled their souls to each other, surprising themselves about their choice in confidante. Shikamaru had a more analytical mind, so he always thought he would end up breaking down to Kakashi, as he was someone who was logical and reminded him of his father some, and would be able to talk him through his troubles. And it was no secret, Naruto’s love for Sasuke. He was her best friend and her brother. It was more likely for her to turn to him with her woes. Or at least Sakura or Hinata.

But that’s not what happened. They chose each other. No matter how unintentional.

They were out hunting for possible food and scouting for white Zetsus when they were suddenly surrounded. Shikamaru had taken a hit and was trying to convince Naruto to just leave without him and she ran with him hanging off her shoulder. He told her that he would hold them off. She was their powerhouse. He knew that she and Kurama were important pieces to survival. He needed them to live. But Naruto thought the opposite. Shikamaru was their tactician. Even if she could not go on, she knew he could help the others through anything. To her, he was one of the most important people. So it enraged her to hear him speak of sacrificing himself.

She created a clone and was quick to hand off the dark haired shinobi, mumbling about a cave system she knew was not too far from their current location. Shikamaru started to argue, getting angry himself, but Naruto would hear none of it.

She turned to give the shadow user a scathing look. “We will discuss this later.” She said with a growl in her voice.

Shikamaru was surprised, but said nothing more. He just nodded his head and surrendered himself to being whisked away. It was only hours later, after his wounds had been cleaned and the clone was able to feed him, did Shikamaru get to see the real blonde again. She looked tired and singed, but unwounded. Her clone handed over what little food and drink was left before dismissing itself. She was able to eat it quickly and in silence before the man who sat across from her finally just snapped.

Words were exchanged between the two that were surely regretted later on, but words were also spoken that they both needed to hear and say. Shikamaru spoke of his regrets, fear, and feelings while Naruto spoke of her own fears, anger, and dwindling self-worth. They both spoke of the hopelessness that they felt.

They found solace in each other that night. And what started out as clumsy hands and desperation, slowly turned into lingering touches and the budding feelings of love. Which is how Naruto ended up curled into a ball with her face shoved into the dark haired shinobi’s chest with his arms wrapped securely around her as she slept after the funeral pyre.

They had found shelter in what used to be a library. It was one of the only buildings that didn’t seem to be in complete ruin. They had set up what few bedrolls they could find around a small fire that they had created in the center of the room, ventilated through a hole in the roof. Naruto and Shikamaru shared a bed roll while Kakashi and Obito also laid side by side. Sasuke looked surprisingly content laying between Sakura and Hinata as they rested their heads on his shoulders. Minato, being a reanimated corpse, had no need for sleep and took post against a shelf as he read through what scrolls were left in the room. They were resting quietly for a bit, but the silence was eventually broken.

“We cannot continue on as we have been. Resources are limited and Kaguya will find us again soon enough. There is nowhere to run on the island. Nowhere to truly hide. And even if we stood our ground and fought, even if we were able to defeat her, who is left in this ravaged land that we have to fight for besides each other?” Obito spoke in a quiet tone as he sat up to stare into the fire. No one seemed to have an answer for him, but everyone seemed to hold each other a little tighter.

After a moment of quiet, the room suddenly started to get hotter and Naruto squirmed a bit in Shikamaru’s hold as Kurama’s chakra spilled its way out of the seal, forming itself into a miniature version of the Kyuubi no Kitsune. He had done this many times in the past after Naruto unlocked his seal so that he could come out and speak to the others freely.

The little fox stretched and brushed his body against Naruto’s back before turning his attention to the older Uchiha.

“Ever since her escape from the moon, my siblings and I have been discussing the matter.” Kurama’s deep voice coming out of the little fox always sounded weird to the Konoha shinobi, but they were used to it by now. “She was powerful. Too powerful. The Sage feared her and made sure we all knew how truly terrible it would be for her to roam this world again. Long ago, before we were all captured and turned into weapons for you humans, we had come up with a plan. One that would work in theory, but would take a significant amount of chakra to pull off and would only be succeeded by one or two of us.” The fox pawed at the locks of Naruto’s golden hair that had grown to about the same length as Hinata’s as time had passed. Once he was sure he had every awakened shinobi’s attention, he settled down against Naruto’s back and huffed in contentment when Shikamaru buried his fingers into soft fur to pet it. “We contemplated the possibility of time travel. Of using space-time ninjutsu to stop the rabbit goddess from coming to be again. Chakra is easy to send away and we believed that it would work, but then there was the possibility that it wouldn’t. That one of us would make it back to the appropriate time and would be overwritten by our younger selves and that the task would have been for naught.” He sighed. “So, then, we contemplated sending a shinobi back. If they went back far enough, they would not be interfering with their own existence and would maybe be able to succeed. But then we were captured and our hatred for your kind increased and we gave up on this plan… Until now.” He lifted his head to look back at his host and her, lesser in his opinion, boyfriend. “We have been talking and we would do it for her. For Naruto.” He turned to look at Minato. “But we could never complete the how of what we were trying to accomplish. But we are here in Uzushio now. Where the world’s greatest Fuinjutsu users originated and made it their business to complete impossible tasks. And we just so happen to have the leading expert in space-time seals and ninjutsu here with us today. I’m sure, with the help of your daughter and any leftover scrolls here in the village, you can create a seal that can accomplish this feat. And I, and my siblings, will power it willingly. Even if there is only a portion of our power left, I’m sure it would be enough to send one and maybe two of you back a significant distance.”

There was a moment of silence before Obito let out an angry huff. “Thank you for that fantasy of a bedtime story, fox. I’m sure to sleep well knowing that tomorrow may as well be my last.”

Kurama growled. “As much of a fantasy as your dead sensei sitting in the same room as us now. As much of a fantasy as you becoming the Juubi Jinchuriki and surviving its extraction. As much as a fantasy as the malevolent goddess who roams the land with her plant minions, hoping to drain your chakra away from you.”

Minato let out a distressed laugh before standing abruptly and heading towards the door. “You all get some sleep. I’ll see what I can come up with.”

Obito glared at the fox. “You’re really having Sensei waste his time with this?”

Kakashi let out a sigh and pulled the blanket up and over the Uchiha’s head. “Just go to sleep, Obito. Besides, Sensei has all the time in the world.” And with that, nothing else was said for the rest of the night.

***

It was a couple of months before anything was actually discovered.

They trained and cleaned up the island, but tensions were high. It felt odd that Kaguya hadn’t come for them yet. Everyone was driving themselves crazy with the thought. Was she toying with them or did she really not know where they were?

Naruto found a few hidden, underground rooms that only opened up to her Uzumaki blood on a seal and was able to find a ton of scrolls and books on Fuinjutsu that she happily showed to her father. She created clones and the both of them studied to their heart’s content. Naruto even found scrolls on the barrier that protects Uzushio. Apparently, it harnesses sage energy to keep the whirlpools going and puts up a type of force field around the island that hides chakra. It was designed so that enemies would never know what type of forces lay in wait on the other side, which may explain their small reprieve. It was also made so that the only people who could get through were the families that made up the island and anyone whose blood was keyed in later.

Which meant there was definitely foul play when it came to the destruction of the island and its people. Naruto wondered if she even wanted to know who the betrayal lay with. Wondered if it would do her mental wellbeing any good. So she threw herself into her Fuinjutsu studies and helped her father search for any clue on what Kurama spoke of being viable.

They caught a lucky break when Naruto found another hidden room in the Uzukage’s tower. It held many secrets and told the history of Uzushio and each family that called the island home.

Naruto looked into the Uzumaki first, of course, and learned that the last Uzukage, Uzumaki Arashi, was forced to marry his distant cousin, the daughter to the daimyo, in a political marriage after his first wife and child died by poisoning. His second marriage is what resulted in the birth of Naruto’s mother, Uzumaki Kushina and her younger brother Uzumaki Ryu.

Minato was surprised. He never knew that Kushina had a brother. He actually wondered if the woman knew herself and if that’s why she never told him. But he and Naruto were even more surprised to learn that the woman who was Arashi’s wife before the political marriage. Was a woman who went by the family name Namikaze.

Namikaze was definitely not a family name for any of the islanders. In fact, Minato knew that his lineage lay in a village not too far from Kumo. Maybe the Uzukage had met a one off member of Minato’s family and gotten married. They put the thought aside with the promise to come back to it later.

They learned more about the Uzumaki clan being related to the Senju and Uchiha clan through the Otsutsuki clan and about how Uzushio and Fuinjutsu were created.

They caught a lucky break when the second family they looked into was the Hoshizora clan. Or more importantly, Hoshizora Sora, the creator of the offshoot Uzumaki clan who specialized in seals meant for transportation. In other words, a specialist in space-time ninjutsu and seals. Coded copies of his journals were found in the hidden room where Minato sat for hours to read through them while his daughter followed along at a slower pace. She was, by no means, stupid, but she was not as quick with learning and reading as her father. She also got tired, unlike the reanimated man. There were many nights where Shikamaru, Hinata, or Sasuke had come looking for them and found Naruto asleep with a book hanging loose in her hand and her head on her father’s lap. The man would slowly untangle his fingers from her golden hair and set the book aside so that her friends or boyfriend could take her to bed. He would give a quiet thank you before continuing his reading.

A few weeks later was the first night in a while that the group had Minato actually join them for dinner. They sat on the beach under the stars with the fire cooking the fresh fish they had managed to catch that day. The entire group glanced up and gave small smiles when they heard the barely there steps in the sand from the former Hokage. He sat down gracefully next to his daughter and bumped shoulders with her as she picked at the fire in front of them with a metal stick. Naruto huffed and leaned into her father’s side. Shikamaru, on her other side, didn’t seem to mind at all.

There were quiet murmurs as everyone talked amongst themselves until Minato finally decided to speak up.

“I’ve figured it out. A seal that can help us traverse through time. Just like Kurama said.” His voice was quiet, but it was heard by all of them. They group stopped their conversations and looked at the blond man over the fire. Even Kurama came out of his seal to settle himself into Naruto’s lap and listen. Minato sighed and ran his fingers through his thick hair. “It’s a seal that has only been used by the Hoshizora clan once and is confirmed to work. The downside is how much chakra it takes to attempt. The amount is so significant, that the one person who used the seal went into a coma and almost died. And even then, they only succeeded in sending someone back to the day before. The seal was then labeled a Kinjutsu and locked away to keep anyone else from attempting it.”

Kurama huffed. “Well I have a significantly more amount of chakra than you worms. And I’m ready to give it all up. My siblings have their portions that they’ve provided to Naruto as well. You will get to where you need to.” He blinked lazy eyes at the blond. “So…what are the rest of the conditions?”

The slight building of excitement in the group at the thought of the out-of-the-box plan possibly working simmered down quickly with Kurama’s question.

“You wouldn’t be here explaining this to us with such little enthusiasm if there wasn’t something else involved. So what is it?” Kurama grumbled.

Minato was quiet for a long moment as he stared into the fire. He knew his daughter had high morals. He knew what he was about to say might hurt her a bit. He felt like crap for even having to bring up the suggestion. The only thing that pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts was a hand reaching over to grab his own and intertwine their fingers together. He looked down at his cracked, pale skin, and compared it to the smooth, tanner hand of his daughter’s. He gave a squeeze back and steeled himself for the rest of this discussion.

“If we were sending someone like Kurama back, then we wouldn’t have to worry about this other condition. He is already only made up of chakra. There’s no body to be involved. We would just send him back and he would just assimilate with his past self and that would be the end of it. But as we’ve discussed, we can’t take this option because it would take the majority of his own chakra to send him back far enough to make a difference. By the time he got to that point, he wouldn’t have enough chakra to merge with himself and be the more dominant soul. He would just be absorbed and this would have all been for naught.” Minato started to fiddle around with Naruto’s fingers. “So, we would have to send one of us back. But the issue is that we are not made up of only chakra and a soul. Neither now or at any time in the past. We cannot just send ourselves back and hope for the best. The only way to do this right would be to send us back to our past bodies. And the only ones who could do that and actually make a difference are either me, Kakashi or Obito.” He let out a chuckle. “And I don’t know about the two of you, but I enjoyed the way I lived in the past. To have to take that life away from myself… To essentially take away my own life. I can’t do that. It may not have been the longest or the best, but it was fulfilling.

Naruto squeezed her father’s hand again and there was a moment of silence before Kakashi decided to speak up.

”I agree with you, Sensei, but is there any other option for us?” They all looked at the undead Hokage solemnly, but eagerly.

“There is one other option.” Minato said quietly. This is the part he knew his daughter would disagree with. He turned his head so that he could look at her in her blue eyes that were the exact same shade as his own. “Naru-chan, do you remember when we first started looking into the families that lived on the island before the fall? And how we found out that the Uzukage was married to a woman by the name of Namikaze before he married your grandmother?” With her confirming head nod he continued on. “If you remember, they had a child together, but both the mother and child died from some type of poison. If we send your soul and chakra back to right before the child dies, I’m sure your chakra would burn the poison away and you would be able to overtake the body.”

Naruto recoiled and let go of her father’s hand. “Overtake the body? Take over someone else’s life?”

“A life that was already lost. Don’t think too hard on this, dobe. It sounds like a solid plan.” Sasuke spoke up from seat across the fire. “You would be older than your parents then. Which means you would be in a time to stop the destruction of Uzushiogakure. You would be able to help stop the beginning of the Third Shinobi War. You would be able to keep your mother from having to be Kurama’s reluctant Jinchuriki. Don’t think of this as you taking someone’s life. If you need to, think of this as you being reincarnated as this person.”

Naruto wanted to argue. She really did. But she had nothing to say. It was all logical, even if she didn’t like it. She gave her friend a pout and crossed her arms over her chest. “I hate that when you decide to speak in more than undecipherable sounds, it’s to call me an idiot and be logical.” Sasuke rolled his eyes at the girl. Naruto decided to let it be. “So… The rest of this lies on me, huh? The idiot of the Leaf Village.”

Minato frowned and opened his mouth to disagree with her words, but Shikamaru beat him to it. The dark haired shinobi reached out and pulled at her hair with a stern tug.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, Naruto. You are not an idiot. You’re strong, brave, loyal, an excellent tactician on the fly, and one of the smartest people I know. I can look at seals and know that it takes more than a little bit of intelligence to be able to learn the art and make it work. You’ve been learning with your father for less than a year and I’ve seen you do some amazing things with it. Imagine what you can accomplish growing up on an island full of people who know and teach the art. You’ll be a seal master in no time.” Shikamaru leaned forward to kiss her cheek, causing the blonde to blush. “I know you can do it.”

Minato watched the interaction with a fond smile on his face before clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

“And, Naru-chan, because of how much chakra we all have to spare, it wouldn’t be impossible to say that we wouldn’t be sending you back alone. We’d have enough chakra to send back another person to around the same time. The only problem would be figuring out where to place them.” He looked around at everyone else. “I know it’s highly improbable, but does anyone know of any deaths at a young age that would fit our needs?”

Naruto frowned, not likening the way it was worded, but looked around at her friends, hopeful.

Obito and Sasuke shook their heads. “There were, obviously, many deaths in the Uchiha clan, but I don’t know of any actual young deaths from the time we’re thinking about.” Obito mumbled.

Kakashi sighed and leaned into the older Uchiha. “The only death I knew about around that time was my mother. But she was older, so that won’t work.”

Sakura folded her arms over her chest. “My family have always been traveling merchants. There’s not much I would be able to do even if I knew of anyone who had a young child who died.”

Shikamaru had his hands sitting in his thinking position, a habit he couldn’t kick. “I think… I remember my father telling me the story of how I got my name. There was a Shikamaru before me. My grandfather’s younger brother. My father told me that the clan documented that he had been born on the night of the new moon and had died not too long after suddenly and unexpectedly. My grandfather had been devastated about losing his little brother and had named my father Shikaku in his memory. My father, in return, named me Shikamaru with permission from my grandfather.”

Sakura spoke up quickly. “Lady Tsunade used to tell me stories about how babies would sometimes be born with blocked chakra networks and would die suddenly due to it and no one knew what it was for a while. She actually told me that story because of Lee. She said it was a miracle that he lived to be the shinobi that he was.” A tear fell down the pink haired girl’s face that she swiped away very quickly as she continued to speak. “That is more than likely what caused the sudden death of your great uncle and sending your chakra and soul back would more than likely be the influx of chakra needed to unblock those chakra passages and allow for the body to live.” She gave Shikamaru a hopeful smile.

Shikamaru looked at the Hokage. “So we have another possible candidate.” He suddenly flinched, turning his gaze towards Hinata. “Unless you know of someone as well, Hinata?”

The lavender eyed woman had been quiet the entire conversation, deep in thought. She gave the shadow user a bright smile. “Even if I did know of someone, Shikamaru-kun, I would not say it now.” Everyone looked at the Hyuuga, confused. “This war has been tough. And we have all had many losses, but we have also found something here with each other that we’ve never thought possible.” She looked towards where Kakashi had his head rested on Obito’s shoulder and how Sakura held tight to a Leaf Village headband that was attached to a red cloth. Lee’s that he had gifted to her before his sacrifice. And then looked down at how Sasuke held tight to her own hand, probably not even realizing it completely. “Yes, we have all made new connections here. And you, Shikamaru-kun, have the most obvious one with Naru-chan.” The blonde and shadow user blushed. “And I can easily say that I would rather lay down my life here for the opportunity to send you two back together so that you can, one: save our world, and two: be with each other for the rest of your days, surrounded by the people you love and without worry. Please allow us to do this for you two.” Hinata bowed her head, stunning the young couple.

Kakashi gave his closed eyed smile from across the fire and bowed his head as well. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, Hinata-chan.” There were hums and nods of agreement from everyone else around the fire.

Minato smiled and gave a sudden clap. “Then it is decided! I will work on the seal and then, we will do what was thought to be impossible.” He stood and ruffled his daughter’s hair gently before making his way back towards the Uzukage tower.

Kurama huffed at the humans in his life and turned around to face Naruto, having been quiet the entire time. “You better make sure that I’m your Jinchuriki again, brat. I quite like how you treat me.” Naruto gave Kurama a sad smile that slowly transformed into a bright one as she reached her arms around the fox to give him a tight hug. “Don’t squeeze so tight, human.” He grumbled, but didn’t dare to move away.

***

It only took three days of sketches with Minato and Naruto going back and forth about the seal before they were able to paint the official seal on the floor of an intact sealing room in the tower.

Three days of the others meditating and trying their best to not waste any excess chakra. Three days of making peace with themselves and saying their goodbyes.

Naruto was, obviously, the one hit the hardest with the situation. She was about to lose the rest of her friends and be stranded in a time she knew nothing about. Alone until she could be reunited with Shikamaru again. When her father wasn’t bouncing Fuinjutsu concepts off her, she was spending some time with the others.

She had been forced to take lunch with Hinata and Sakura on the first day, listening to the girls talk and try to teach her small, quick things about medical ninjutsu, chakra control, and how to be a real lady and kunoichi. Things she had been neglected in learning when she was much younger.

That same night, Obito sat next to her at dinner and was adamant with talking to her about how she couldn’t become a stick in the mud like Kakashi used to be. The silver haired man had rolled his eyes from across the fire at that. He told her that even though her past hadn’t been the best, and he was mostly to blame for that, that he wished she would use this new life as a new opportunity to live the way she was supposed to the first time around. Naruto had just patted his head and force fed him some of the fish that was cooked for dinner to shut him up. Kakashi laughed outright at the Uchiha’s stunned expression.

Sasuke had woken her up early the next morning to go out to the beach and watch the sunrise on the other side of the island. And he had decided that he would teach her how to handle a sword while they were there. Naruto whined about how she wasn���t going to learn Kenjutsu in a morning, but her broody brother didn’t care. He made her create clones so that she could at least learn the katas. “I’ll have to learn this all over again, Sasuke. I’m not sure why you’re insisting on this.” Naruto had mumbled as the Uchiha corrected her leg positions.

“Because I hope, dobe, that the techniques will imprint themselves on your soul and your chakra. Because if it does, just a little, that’s just one step closer to you being able to protect yourself without me there.” the Uchiha said before stepping away to make her do the move again. Naruto wanted to mention how she had been without him for a while now, but she kept it to herself. If it made him feel better, she was not going to ruin it.

Once she was able to escape the impromptu lesson, she was with her father for the remainder of the day until Shikamaru came to pull her away and feed her dinner on the roof of a mostly intact building. Now, if their small dinner turned into a make out session as well, Naruto wasn’t complaining. But then soft and playful touches and kisses turned into bruising holds and desperation. Like most of their intimate moments. It often made Naruto wonder if they would have ended up together in a different life. If the war had never happened. If they weren’t some of the last few people left. Every one of their intimate moments felt like a last goodbye, but that was the life of a ninja. Maybe she was just overthinking it. Later, before they went back down to join the others, Naruto draped herself over Shikamaru’s body and ran her fingers through his soft hair as he stared up at the sky. “Shika, you know I won’t hold it against you if we get to the past and you didn’t want anything to do with me.” Naruto whispered, putting out all her insecurities in that one simple sentence. The shadow user stopped breathing for a moment before he let out a full bodied laugh, jostling the blonde and making her give an irritated huff.

“You troublesome woman.” Shikamaru wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled them so that he was pinning her to the roof with his body. “You won’t be getting rid of me so easily. We Nara may be lazy, but once we have something or someone, we keep them.” He leaned down to give her a kiss.”And I plan on keeping you, Naru. For the rest of my days.” The blonde blushed and gave her boyfriend a small smile before pulling him down to kiss her again. They never ended up back with the rest of the group that night.

Naruto would have spent her lunch with Shikamaru the next day, but Kakashi was quick to swoop in and take her away to a secluded spot in the woods not far from the tower. He whistled and sat behind her, brushing and braiding her hair. It was a habit that he had started with the girls not long after running for their lives from Kaguya. It had started with Naruto after her hair had grown long enough to start getting in the way while she was trying to fight. She was about to hack it all off one night, but Kakashi stopped her and made her sit patiently as he conjured up his memories on how he used to braid Kushina’s hair back when she was pregnant. Naruto had smiled at him and gave him a small hug, asking if he could do it again for her every once in a while. It eventually turned into him braiding Hinata and Sakura’s hair as well and he did it all happily.

Naruto sat quietly as she nibbled on some fish while Kakashi worked. When he was done, he rested his head on her shoulder so that she could see his eye smile. “All done, Naru-chan.” Naruto sighed and leaned back into the man that she had come to think of as her older brother. Their relationship was weird and strained at first as it seemed like the silver haired man wanted nothing to do with any of his students and then he started to focus on one. Naruto had resented him for a while, and after Sasuke had left, she downright hated him because Kakashi had all but disappeared from her life. But then she left with Jiraiya and when she came back, she was mostly indifferent about her old sensei, if not a little excited to see him, or anyone that she had known, really. He was, technically, still her sensei after all of that, but she slowly started to see him less as that and more of a weird older brother who didn’t know how to truly interact with other people. She had told him as much and he had huffed with a blush on his cheeks and demanded she call him Aniki, which she had refused for the longest time until after they lost a lot of their forces after the initial battle with Madara and then Kaguya during the war. They had been hiding in the mountains of lightning country and Kakashi had had a fight with Obito, so he was huddled close to Naruto as they tried their best to stay warm. Naruto had grumbled and hid her face in her knees as Kakashi had, essentially, draped his body over hers as she was kind of a furnace. “I love you. I really do, Kaka-aniki, but please don’t use me to hide from your boyfriend.” Kakashi had blushed and tried to make excuses as his sensei, Naruto’s father, had laughed from his seat not too far from the both of them. But then Kakashi had realized what Naruto had called him and he held her tighter then, trembling. Naruto ignored the tears that she could feel seeping into her shirt as the man hid his face against her back.

“Thank you, Aniki. Do you want the rest of the fish? I’m not very hungry.” Naruto asked, reaching up to tug at the silver haired man’s mask. Kakashi swatted at her hand and bumped his head against hers.

“I know you’re stressed out about everything that’s about to happen, Naruto, but please at least try and finish your food. You don’t want to make bad habits.” Kakashi let out a dramatic sigh and tossed himself back against the ground. “Geez, what are you going to do without your dutiful aniki in the past? You’ll starve or train yourself to death.”

Naruto rolled her eyes and slapped Kakashi’s leg. “Stop being so dramatic. Besides, I’ll have you again eventually.”

Kakashi let out an amused huff and sat back up. “But then you’ll be the oneechan. I won’t be able to big brother you.” He said with a pout. He tugged a little at her braid.

“From the stories Obito tells from when you were kids, I’m sure you’ll find a way.” She giggled when Kakashi pouted and threw himself back on the ground again while calling her mean.

Not too long after lunch, Naruto and her father had completed the seal. Naruto wanted to wait until the next day to try activating it, but the others, once they learned about it being complete, did not see the need to wait. They all joined the two blonds in the sealing room and Minato explained how it would all work. The seal essentially pulled chakra from any source that wasn’t the chakra or soul being transferred until it eventually drained it. Once all of that was complete, and the seal had built up enough energy to do what it was designed, it ripped the chakra and soul from the intended travelers and transplanted them to where they needed to be. Which means that Naruto and Shikamaru would have to concentrate on their own tasks of leading their energies exactly where they needed to go after they ended up in the correct time.

Minato explained that the seal would not hurt the others, but would more than likely put them to sleep before they died of chakra depletion. Naruto bit her lip and trembled as her father approached her and Shikamaru and drew seals on their foreheads that would help guide them and keep the seal from draining their chakra as well. Minato had seals painted on his hands as well so that he could keep the seal going until the very end.

There was no need for goodbyes in the moment either, as everyone had already made peace with what was about to happen. Naruto had as well, reluctantly. But that didn’t stop her from crying tears that she hadn’t in a while. Shikamaru turned to her and wiped them away before giving her a kiss and whispering that everything would turn out fine.

Right before Minato was about to activate the seal, Kurama released himself from Naruto’s seal and pulled as much chakra with him that he could compress into a slightly larger form without invading the entire room and without completely pulling it all from Naruto. “I’m counting on you to make yourself my Jinchuriki again, brat. Do not disappoint me.”

Naruto let out a choked laugh and bowed her head. Of course those would be Kurama’s parting words with her. “You got it, fuzz ball.” The Kyuubi huffed and they all turned to Minato to begin the seal. The man nodded and began a long sequence of hand signs.

”Remember, Naruto and Shikamaru, concentrate on your intended vessels and where your souls and chakra should migrate. Do not waver.” They both nodded, determined, and Minato quickly finished off the rest of the hand signs. “Fuin!”

Immediately, the others began to feel it. One by one, the seal drained the chakra from the remaining shinobi in the elemental nations. The more chakra they lost, the more the seal began to glow. They were all sitting down already, but Sakura was the first to wane and eventually fall over onto her side, asleep then gone, as she was the one with the least amount of chakra. Hinata was next. Naruto had to close her eyes tight to keep from seeing her family die. But she could still feel them leave her. Her body trembled so hard that Shikamaru had to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, whispering to her that everything would be okay.

Kakashi, as dense as his chakra was, was the next to falter. He reached out to take Obito’s hand before falling unconscious. The Uchiha took him into his arms and held him close as he and Sasuke followed the others into death not too long after.

Kurama’s chakra would take the longest to drain, but it was draining surprisingly fast. The fox shifted uncomfortably as he pulled more chakra from Naruto’s seal to compensate before there was almost none left to pull. He left that there so that his Jinchuriki didn’t die before the sealing was complete. Eventually, he became small enough so that he could curl up against Naruto and Shikamaru and let the girl bury her fingers and face into his warm fur. He let out an amused huff, but said nothing more. No words were needed right now.

When Kurama’s chakra was finally gone, Naruto was a sobbing mess. Shikamaru held her as tight as he could and told her it was time for her to concentrate. They didn’t have time for tears. Naruto slowly pulled herself together as the seal started to pull away at her father’s chakra.

Just then, off in the distance, the two blonds could feel the Uzushio sage shields break and then they felt her. Kaguya. She had finally found them.

Minato let out a loud and vindictive laugh as more Edo Tensei cracks began to form across his borrowed body as his chakra left him. It was too late for the goddess. By the time she arrived, the seal would be complete. He smiled and looked up at the two travelers.

”Good luck to you both. I love you so much.” He forcefully pushed his remaining chakra into the seal and his body crumbled apart.

Naruto and Shikamaru gripped each other tight as they could feel the seal pulling at them, ripping them apart. The last thing Naruto heard was the vicious scream of the rabbit goddess in the distance before everything went dark.

***

Light, colors, and sounds slowly came back to her. Everything felt odd as she tried to move around and realized that there was no actual body holding her together. She looked around and noticed that she was in a room where attendants rushed around and what looked like doctors tended to a pale woman with long, curly, golden hair who held tight to an equally as pale baby with red tufts of curls on its head. Both of their breathing was labored and they didn’t look like they would be alive much longer.

This, Naruto realized, was her vessel. She slowly floated down towards the child and the woman, probably its mother, opened her eyes and seemed to look right at her. A gasp escaped the woman and she used trembling arms to hold the baby up to Naruto.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please save my baby girl.”

The doctors sighed and tried to make her put the child down. “We have someone still working on it, Uzumaki-sama, but the poison is something new from Suna. It’s not anything we’ve seen before.” The doctor didn’t sound particularly sad, but he knew this was a lost cause. Their Uzukage would not be happy.

The woman shook her head and held the baby closer to Naruto. “Not you. The angel. Please save my baby.” The doctor thought that the woman was hallucinating and marked that down as a symptom of the poison, but Naruto knew the truth. The woman could see her and thought she was an angel. With pure determination, she forced her chakra and soul to take on a more human form. Naruto reached out her hands and covered the woman’s hands on the baby, giving a slight squeeze before she shifted them to gently stroke the baby’s head. Naruto could feel the seal that her father painted on her shift around until it settled itself on the baby.

This was it. She was about to take over this child’s life. She understood, realistically, that the child would not survive much longer without her intervention, but it still pained her to have to do this.

“Thank you.” The whisper startled Naruto out of her thoughts and she glanced at the woman as she started to feel her chakra being absorbed into the small body. “Thank you for saving her. My little Tsubaki will grow stronger than the rest. She has an angel on her side.” The woman’s face looked pained, but she was still smiling. She slowly lowered the baby back to her chest and started to hum a song. Color returned to baby Tsubaki’s skin as Naruto’s essence started to burn away at the poison that was ravaging the body just moments ago.

The doctor was stunned and called for aid as it looked like the child now had a fever when just a few seconds ago she was ice cold.

The door to the sick room slammed open and a man with long red hair ran into the room. He fell onto the bed next to the woman and reached out to touch her pale cheek. “Nikko! I came as fast as I could.” He looked over his wife before turning his attention to their baby. “No one explained anything to me. What happened to my wife and child?” He said with a growl, turning his attention to the doctor. Uzumaki Arashi, the Uzukage, was not a man to be trifled with. He had a reputation that made people tremble if they saw him in battle. He wasn’t just named after the storm. This man was a storm.

The doctor looked away, wondering where his help was. “It is poison, Uzukage-sama. Something from Suna that we’ve never seen before. There seems to be nothing we can do, but your child has started to develop a fever and your wife is having hallucinations. We have them marked down as more symptoms of the poison.”

Arashi snarled and stood. “If you are not going to do anything for my family, then what is the point of you?” The doctor flinched away, but Nikko lifted a weak hand to take her husband’s. And just that quickly, the storm faded and the man returned his attention to his love. As dangerous as a shinobi this man was in his daily life, he was always a gentle soul to those that he loved. Naruto, who was just barely finished with being assimilated into the child, was getting a bit of whiplash from the swinging emotions in the room.

“Arashi. I’m sorry that I have to leave you.” Nikko whispered as her husband came closer. The man tried to shush her, but she just shook her head and brought their baby closer to him. “You won’t be alone though. An angel has saved our Tsubaki. Raise her well. Raise her to be strong and brave.” She gave him a weak smile. “Raise her to be a warrior far more tenacious and powerful than any Namikaze before her.”

The Uzumaki’s hands trembled as he reached up to stroke his wife’s hair out of her face. “I promise, Nikko. Tsubaki will want for nothing and she will be the fiercest woman anyone will ever encounter. I promise.”

Naruto closed her eyes, giving the two their last moment together just as she was finally absorbed into the body of the baby. She opened her eyes to a white room with a small bundle laying on the floor not too far from her. She slowly approached and looked down to see a small baby girl with curly red hair and blue eyes just slightly darker than her own. She did not look well either. Silent cries came from the child and her face was scrunched up as if in pain. Naruto got down to her knees and reached out to lift the baby. When they physically touched, the sound of the cries hit Naruto like a slap to the face.

“Tsubaki,” she whispered. “I am so sorry, little one.” She rocked the baby gently in an attempt at comfort. It seemed to work as the cries started to quiet down and got softer. “I’m so sorry that this has happened to you.” She pulled the baby into a soft hug. “Rest now. Everything will be okay.”

On the island nation of Whirlpools, a baby opened ocean blue eyes to the world to see the blurry form of a red haired man leaning over her and crying. The baby let out a little gurgle to try and tell the man that everything would be okay. A gasp escaped the man and the baby felt large hands scoop her up and left her against a solid chest.

“Oh Tsubaki. Thank the gods. Nikko was right.” He nuzzled his cheek against hers. “Your mother was right. You were saved. I promise this will never happen again. Papa will keep you safe, okay?”

The baby, Tsubaki, just let out a little sigh and closed her eyes, too tired to do anything but sleep.

***

Not too far away, in the Land of Fire, a certain shadow user had significantly less time than his counterpart to come to peace with what was about to happen.

His chakra and soul took shape in a small room that was familiar, but foreign at the same time. A small medical room inside the Nara compound. A place he did not see often from before.

Inside the room a woman with dark brown hair was having a difficult time with coming to terms with what the doctor was trying to tell her.

Green glowing hands hovered over her youngest son. A precious life that she had only just brought into the world the day before. She was told that he didn’t have much longer to live.

”His chakra passages are blocked, my Lady. No matter what I try, I am only prolonging the inevitable.” The doctor said with much sadness in his voice.

The woman stood and glared at the man with tears in her eyes. “What use are you if you cannot save my son?” She asked with a hiss, forcing the doctor out of the room. She knew she wasn’t being completely fair, but her heart was breaking. She returned to her child’s side and whispered to him that he would be okay. That she would take care of him forever.

Shikamaru watched this and let out a small chuckle. Troublesome woman. He reached out and placed a hand on the baby’s head, wishing he could alleviate some of his grandmother’s pain, but he was more concerned about assimilating himself with his vessel in hopes that it would survive. He hoped that what Sakura said was true and that his chakra would force the body’s coils unblocked.

As soon as he laid his hand on the child, he could feel the seal transfer itself and he heard the woman let out a gasp. He glanced over and saw her looking right at him with tears in her eyes.

“Please don’t take my baby.” Shikamaru was confused at first, but if he thought about it he knew how this must look. If she would see him, she was more than likely seeing him as a wavering light. She had just heard that her baby was in a dire situation. He must look like an angel or a grim reaper, come to take a soul. Unfortunately, that was half true.

He reached out his hand to the woman who hesitated at first, but lifted her own to touch it, making a shiver run down her spine. She seemed to relax though, as if feeling something familiar. The Nara may be an underrated clan in the village, but there were things about them that not everyone knew. The clan were shadow users because they were born with shadows in their souls. The blessed children of Daikokuten, the god of great darkness. Their chakra was easily recognizable to any other Nara in the vicinity because of this. They used the shadows because they were born from the shadows. He didn’t understand the lore of his clan at first, thinking it was just a silly story, but he knows now. Has lived the lore for the remaining days of his previous life. Shikamaru’s soul and chakra, by now, were enriched in darkness.

His great grandmother recognized him for who he was. A shadow. A Nara.

The woman nodded her head, not knowing exactly what was going on, but knowing what must be done. Shikamaru nodded his head as well and turned his attention back to the baby, placing both hands on it and forcing his chakra and soul into the vessel, hoping that the intense influx of chakra would do what it needed to.

Shikamaru opened his eyes to darkness and found himself laying on his back, his fingers just barely brushing against something small and shaking. He turned his head and could make out the small, frail shape of his vessel. The original Shikamaru’s soul. He could hear little pained breaths as the soul reflected the body’s ailment.

He rolled himself over and brought his body closer so that he could wrap around the baby and touch his cheek with a gentle touch.

”I’m sorry that you didn’t have more time in this world, but I thank you for everything you’re giving me.” He placed a kiss on the baby’s head. “Rest now, Shikamaru.”

In the dark of the night in the middle of the Nara compound, a woman held her breath as she watched as color returned to her baby’s skin and a thick shadow settled into the corners of the room. Her hand trembled as she reached out to give him a gentle touch and let out a relieved sob when she felt a strong fluttering heartbeat under her fingers. She picked up her baby and held him to her chest as she cried and thanked the ancestors and gods for sending someone to save her son.

”You are so strong, my little fawn. My Shikamaru. And you have a family full of shadows who will protect you and make you stronger.” She whispered to him as she rocked the boy back and forth, smiling when he let out a little sigh. “Such a Nara already.”

She stood and moved to the door to introduce her little deer to his older brother and the rest of the clan.

[lavandula-ipsum]

🌙 Masterlist ✨

Hi! Here you can find all my fics. Right now I mostly write for Luke Skywalker, and I usually post on ao3. My inbox is open for thoughts, questions and headcanons.

✨ Luke Skywalker x Reader ✨

🌕 Ghost of the Empire (my longfic, my masterpiece, it has everything; Reader's journey through the OT, getting cool Force powers in exchange of dealing with her trauma and growing stronger alongside Luke; slow burn)

🌕 A little help (one shot, fluff)

🌕 Let me spoil you (drabble, smut)

🌕 The rain will hide us (comfort, fluff, one shot, gn reader) (ao3)

A flower with a different name (short series, enemies and lovers, smut, angst, dark!Luke x rebel!Reader)

🌕 Pomegranate

🌕 Asphodels

🌘 Ch. 1 - Those Wistful Asphodels, (ao3)

🌘 Ch. 2- The Sweet Waters of Phlegeton (ao3)

✨ Luke Skywalker NSFW drabble/headcanon ✨

☄️ let me spoil you - smutsgiving challenge

☄️Idk if there's therapy in space but pegging must count

☄️sneaking to a dark corridor

[redneckangelsdrinkmoonshine]

Selfless self promo right here!

If you're looking for a fix-it fic, where Dean deals with his emotions and takes responsibility for his actions, Sam's into witchcraft and is besties with Rowena, Castiel is a confident and badass motherfucker who doesn't need anyone, AND there are Gen Z hunters everywhere taking over the business, click below!!!

This is dedication to a very dear friend of mine. This fic wouldn't have been possible without them. They listened to my rants and stupid head-canons until we finally made sense of the mess in my brain. Thank you to @some1sworld for everything, you make college seem bearable.

[jeeyuns]

hope is a sword

buck/eddie | one-shot (5.5k) | rated t

whumptober 2023 | prompt #5 | debris | pinned down | "It's broken."

“Did it nick the femoral artery?” Eddie mutters to Chim, hands gentle as he cuts through the fabric of Buck’s turnout pants to get a better look. Buck has a glimmer in his tired eyes as Eddie looks up and catches his gaze. He can hear the bright laughter in his mind as Buck relays a dirty joke about getting into his pants with a twitch of his lips and a scrunch of his nose. Holy shit, Eddie loves him so much. He’s been so stupid, telling himself to wait for the right moment. What right fucking moment? It should have been yesterday, three weeks ago– hell, it should have been three years ago when he was telling his best friend about the goddamn will. It doesn’t matter right now, though. The only thing that matters is keeping as much of Buck’s blood inside his body as possible. One can only hope and wish and pray.

read on ao3

[madamebaggio]

Notes: As "Maybe we shouldn't (but we will)" (a.k.a. The bucket list) was the second most voted on our end of the year poll, I'll post the beginning of the next chapter for you all.

Let me know your feelings.

Previously...

***

Chapter 15

Sam sighed as he watched Jon playing with the pint on his hand. When his friend had asked him out for a drink, Sam imagined something had happened and that it had something to do with the Sansa situation -how he called it in his head.

Sam knew Jon very well; they’d been friends for a long time and went through a lot together. There wasn’t much he didn’t know about the other man.

Sure, he hadn’t expected Jon to get into this… Situation with Sansa Stark. He’d never got the impression that there was anything between them, and he’d seen them together on many occasions. Jon hadn’t talked much about Sansa before, so it was a bit of a shock.

However, Sam didn’t really think it was the craziest match possible. When he’d thought about it better, it did make a lot of sense. They were both steady, loyal and kind people. In Sam’s head, Jon and Sansa made more sense than most of Jon’s previous relationships.

The man in question let out a long sigh, and Sam figured he was ready to say whatever was in his head.

“I’m in love with Sansa.”

Well… Now Sam was glad he hadn’t taken a sip from his beer. “I see.” He dragged the last word.

Jon looked at him. “You do?”

“I mean…” Sam cleared his throat. “I think it was bound to happen.”

Jon frowned. “It was?”

Sam snorted. “Jon… Come on. You’re the king of getting involved with people. And Sansa is pretty amazing. It isn’t shocking that, once you spent more time together, you’d realize she’s amazing and…” He shrugged.

“You could’ve warned me.”

“I’m pretty sure when you told me it was already too late.”  

Jon sighed again. “We spent time together before.” He defended himself quietly.

“Not like this.”

Jon’s next sigh was even more dramatic. “Are you going to tell her?” Sam wanted to know.

“Not yet.” When he saw Sam’s arched eyebrow, Jon hurried to explain. “Sansa is… Discovering herself right now. We’ve had a lot of discussions, and only now she feels more comfortable to say what she wants or not. Her self-confidence took a lot of hits in the last years and in her last relationships. She needs more time.”

“More time for what?”

“To decide whether what she feels when she’s with me is real or not.” Jon’s eyes dipped back to his untouched pint. “Right now she’s enjoying the high, learning about herself… I don’t want to confuse her.”

“I see your point, but then you aren’t being exactly honest with her, right?”

“I don’t intend to drag this indefinitely, Sam.” Jon assured him. “Not even to the end of the list. I also don’t intend to lie to her. If she asks me about my feelings, I’ll tell her honestly. But I think she needs a bit more time. She needs to feel more confident and more certain of what she wants or not.”

“Including you.”

“Including me.”

“I get what you’re saying, Jon, I truly do. But…” It was Sam’s turn to sigh. “Don’t wait too long. Yes, she might need time, but you don’t. You’re in love already. The more time you let pass, the worse this can get for you.”

“I know, Sam.” Jon nodded. “As I said, I don’t intend to lie to her, or anything. I just want her to figure it out on her own.”

Sure. Nothing could go wrong with that, right?

[thomasisaslut]

Stress and Relief

Bridget Von Ascheberg x Rhys Larsen

After attending many events, parties, weddings, even his own, Rhys Larsen was tired. Currently he was buried in paperwork, since becoming his wife's Prince Consort he hasn't had a break, Bridget intends to give him that.

OR

Bridget gives Rhys a blow-job for his hard work!

Word Count: 1.1k

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51154276

On Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1393367855-𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝-𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬-stress-and-relief

Rhys Larsen say at his desk, mounds of paper stacked upon the hard wood. He sighed, it's been so long since he has been able to relax, let alone properly fuck his wife—The Queen, Bridget Von Ascheberg.

His hands slam down on the desk, crumpling another useless piece of parchment before tossing it in the waste bin.

"Something wrong?" A voice chimes from the doorway, Rhys instantly snaps out of his anger and meets Bridget's eyes. A sight that lights up his world, one he couldn't live without.

"No." The new Prince Consort replies, his tone is still grumbly from the workload.

"Liar." Bridget walks over, her blonde hair tied back into a high ponytail, an elegant light yellow—near white—dress on, the trail drags behind her as she strides over. "What's wrong?" She places her hands on Rhys' cheeks, cupping his face in her delicate, soft fingers.

The former bodyguard sighs, he leans into his wife's touch. "I'm stressed... I know it is nothing compared to your work as a literal Queen-"

"Rhys Larsen!" Bridget interrupts. "Usually I am the one complaining, mister." She kisses his forehead, her lipstick leaving a slight smear, Bridget chuckles then wipes it away with her thumbs after licking them. "I know something that can always help..." The queen states suggestively.

"Princess." He warns, fuck, how Bridget loves that word, the same term he's called her since they first met, she more than loved it, Bridget adored it when he called her that. "We can't right now."

"I never said we had to go full on, god only knows how long you take." She winks.

Rhys smirks. "What? When I fuck you for so long you're limp? Perhaps even not walking at all?"

Bridget's cheeks flush a light hue of pink, she nods. "Yes, that." Her hands remain on her husband's face. "May I help you now, Mr. Larsen?"

"Of course, princess."

Bridget sinks to her knees, sliding under the desk Rhys was working at, she trails her hands from his cheeks to his thighs in the process.

The Prince Consort watches her every movement, from the twitch in her lips as a smirk forms to her fingers clenching around his legs, he loved it. Bridget spreads Rhys' legs before unbuckling the belt he wore, she unlocks it before moving to the button and zipper. Bridget quickly undoes both, Rhys lifts his hips slightly and the Queen quickly pulls his boxers down along with the black pants.

"Don't stop your work for me, Mr. Larsen. It is important after all."

Fucking tease.

But, Rhys complied, he picked up another piece of parchment and begins to scan the report. Bridget and the rest of the Royal Court—Only Bridget, Rhys didn't actually care for the Court's opinion, he was after all, a Prince Consort. He had more power—decided that he would take over resident issues. However, most of the recent issues have been nothing but unreasonable complaints.

'This restaurant is too expensive!' That isn't the Court's problem.

'The roads have too many pot holes.' The roads are made of gravel or are newly paved.

'There are too many-'

Rhys has to suck in a breath as Bridget took his cock into her mouth, she quickly sucked the tip, sucking the pre off of the head. He fees his cock twitch, it only grows more hard by the second.

Her tongue slips into the tiny slit before she circles around the tip with her tongue, Bridget then slides him further into her mouth, Rhys' cock now halfway in her throat.

"Fuck, Princess." Rhys moans, his free hand gripping her blonde hair. "You're always so good for me, well..." A small chuckle escapes his lips. "Almost always."

Bridget says something along the lines of 'Whatever' against his cock but it only came out as 'bmphf'. However, that very noise sent a shiver down his spine, his grip tightens on her scalp.

"More, Bridget." Rhys groans, he begins to buck his hips when Bridget removes her mouth from his cock, he sends a small glare his wife's way.

"You're suppose to be working, Mr. Larsen." She smirks, voice hoarse.

"And you're suppose to be sucking my cock, princess." He growls.

Bridget's smirk falls, her cheeks fade into a maroon color. "Then get back to work and I will do my job."

Rhys glares but nods, he brings his eyes back to the papers and Bridget begins to bob her head on his cock, pre was now pouring down her throat, Rhys was so close to cumming it was inevitable, he had to think of the weirdest things not to shoot his load.

Rotten tomatoes.

Grizzly bears.

Table cloths.

But the objects weren't enough, especially not when Bridget brought her hands to his balls and began to toy and play with them, squeezing and lightly tugging. A loud moan passed his lips.

"Bridge- Fuck, Princess. I'm going to cum and you are going to take it, do you understand?" Rhys looks down at his wife, Bridget on her knees was a sight to see.

She moans around his cock, a confirmation that she understood.

Within a second his load shoots down Bridget's throat, filling her esophagus with his cum. The blonde swallows every single drop, she then slides his cock out of her mouth, it causes a loud 'pop' sound. Bridget uses her index finger to swipe the release that slipped out of her mouth, she then sticks her finger into her mouth and then she finally, truly, swallowed every drop.

She stumbles a bit as she stands, knees red from the hard wooden floor. Rhys' hands instantly fly to her hips, stabilizing her balance.

"You're not hurt, are you?" Rhys blurts out, worry filling his tone.

Bridget only giggles. "No, my love, I am not." She straddles Rhys' lap, kissing his neck then jaw before kissing his mouth. Her tongue slips into his mouth and Rhys tastes himself on her tongue. They moan in unison.

"Thank you, Princess."

"Of course, Mr. Larsen, are you less stressed?" Bridget smiles, kissing his cheek.

"Yes, you're magical, Bridget."

The blonde headed woman laughs, she smiles widely, a sight that makes Rhys' life worth while.

"Yes, I am."

"Thank you, truly, Bridget." Rhys adds. When she raises her eyebrow he continues. "For everything, for loving me for who I am, for... for being yourself around me, thank you, my love." He cups her cheeks before slamming their lips together.

She melts into the kiss and presses back, slipping her tongue back into his mouth to deepen the kiss. But this embrace was different from before, instead of hungry it was loving and sweet, every moment of the kiss was magical.

Rhys and Bridget truly were perfect for each other.

A/N: I realized that there are nearly zero Twisted Series fics, I plan to fix that! I hope you enjoyed this short one-shot! 💕

[snomoscribbles]

Put Your Hands On Me- Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Adult!Ao'nung x Adult!Neteyam Rating: Explicit (in second chapter not this one) Tags: banter, sexual tension, time skip, sass A/N: Part 1 does not have nsfw themes, just suggestive, part two is all nsfw and feelings. AO3 Link

He lunged forward, his lips twitching slightly at the urge to hiss at his opponent and bare his teeth. Neteyam stepped from his reach, ducking down to avoid the Metkayina's bulky arms. A long striped leg hooked behind his ankles, but he turned into the movement to step over and avoid eating sand. ”Trying to sweep me off my feet, ‘Teyam?” ”Well I have experience.” --------------------------------------------- Or the one where Ao'nung is completely gone for Neteyam and is going to make it everyones problem. One Sparring Match at a time.

Contrary to popular belief, Ao’nung was in fact not a glutton for punishment.

It had been a couple years since the attack on the Metkayina and their soul siblings. While they hadn't heard anything of the Sky people making advances in a couple months now, relaxing wasn’t really in the cards just yet.   Though some definitely had a harder time acclimating to the peace than others. Ao’nungs pale blue gaze strayed from his work weaving a tight armband back into its original shape, dragging his eyes lazily up the form of the darker azure forest Navi currently standing in the circle of young warriors to be. Neteyam. The Metkayina let out a long breath with a lopsided smile, his ears drooping a little at the sight. Neteyam stood proud and upright. Ao’nung’s eyes tracked the motions of his hands, they flowed through the air like agile Ilu, the gathered teens.  Over the years He’d grown taller and broader, his time living with the reef Navi had definitely gained him some bulk, though not to the extent of the Metkayina. He was still slender in comparison.

His braids hung lower now, just dragging below his shoulder blades with beads and small shells woven sparsely through the dark hair. He often had the upper portion loosely tied up and away from the rest. A half topknot to keep it from his face.    The light of the morning lit his ever golden gaze, a familiar warmth and fondness softening the color to something honeyed.

He was a good teacher, patient and just stern enough to demand respect. It made the teal Navis heart throb watching. Neteyam was so fond of his students. The lilt of Neteyams voice was lost at this distance sitting just at the entrance of his own Marui with his craft a little ways from the sandy shore where the darker Navi was teaching, but watching him was plenty enough for the bubbling of affection the Metkayina could never be rid of. As always, Ao’nungs gaze lingered on the light hued scarring marking the eldest Sully’s chest. A reminder of a life almost stolen far too young. His stomach didn’t sink as drastically when he saw it anymore, but it would always leave a bitter taste in his mouth. The aching need to go touch the man and be sure he wouldn’t vanish made his fingers twitch. It was unlikely that it would be a welcome action though. Not Without certain stipulations.

You see. Ao’nung had found a loophole.

Having done this song and dance a thousand times before, Ao’nung smirked, setting his half finished project to the side. A break was overdo anyway. Right?

He pushed himself to his feet, his tail swaying already in his excitement as he padded across the still cool sand of the beach to where the group was settled.

“Ao’nung!” His stride was interrupted, lips pulling down into a small frown, a furrow between his brows as Rotxo approached. ”Rotxo. Did you need something?” Rotxo covered his smile with his hand, absolutely aware of what he had stepped in the way of. He cleared his throat, crossing his arms loosely over his chest, now like Ao’nungs own decorated with fluid winding tattoos. ”Hello to you too. Are we really doing this again?” He nodded his head in the direction of Neteyam and his pupils with a raised brow, a knowing smile on his face, “You know you're going to lose. Again.” Ao’nung couldn’t help the short laugh that left him, puffing up his chest a little in defiance. ”I’ll have you know I've been getting at least 3 out of 10 wins. Which is more than I can say for you.” Rotxo snorted, “Yeah, because I'm not crazy enough to challenge Neteyam on a regular basis. He’s always three moves ahead of me.” Ao’nung’s eyes drifted back to the azure teacher across the beach, the man blissfully unaware of their talk. Neteyam had a sparring partner now. One of the younger Metkayina warriors, one who was clearly nervous even with the eldest Sully’s encouragement guiding him. He had good reason to be squeamish. Even if Neteyam was not as large as most of the reef Navi adults, he had an imposing aura. He was always footsure and steady, his eyes piercing and determined regardless of the task in front of him. He held himself with the experience and confidence of a man who’d been through absolute hell and back. Eywa it was attractive. Ao’nung might have been annoyed at his friends ribbing if this was really about winning. Anyone who knew Ao’nung was aware of his distaste for losing anything. Ever. Even now after all these years, he and Lo’ak were constantly at each others throats with one competition after another. Though it was mostly friendly competition at this point. ”I’m not crazy…” the larger Metkayina started, pursing his lips only briefly before giving into the large grin that stretched across his features, “Any decision that leads to Neteyams hands on me is a good one. Which really just means that Ive never lost a challenge.” ” Any- what? Oh. OH! Mighty Eywa!” A startled laugh made it out of Rotxo’s lips, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees as he fought to breathe, “That makes…so much more sense then you wanting to get …your tail handed to you all the time.” He forced his words out between small chortling laughs, shaking his head,

“I take it back, I wont stop you. Go be wooed by the strikes of your syaksyuk. Go on.” Ao’nung rolled his eyes with a slight smirk. The smaller reef Navi made shooing motions with his hands, ushering Ao’nung toward their darker toned friend. Not only would Ao’nung enjoy the attention of Neteyam, but Rotxo would never complain about getting to see his best friend get thrown around a little. Some arrogance needed to be answered for okay?

Ao’nung gave his friend a half hearted shove to the shoulder before sauntering up the beach toward his original goal. Said goal was now pinning his pupil to the ground with the young warriors hands held firmly in the arch of his back. He wasn’t even breathing hard the damn beautiful bastard. ”You charged forward and aimed to incapacitate through strength. You did well, but you can not treat every threat the same. It worked against your peers, but I do not fight the same. Do you understand?” Neteyams voice was a balm to Ao’nungs nerves, his shoulders releasing tension from his earlier contemplation at the point blank tone. ”y-yes karyu.” {teacher}

The young warrior responded, eyes on the sand he was pinned to. Neteyam nodded, letting him go with care and helping him back up. The younger huffed a little, rolling his shoulders with his lips pressed into a firm line from the embarrassment. Poor kid. Even most of the grown hunters couldn’t match Neteyam. Not that Ao’nung was going to comfort him. Losing with grace wasn’t his strong suit either. At least… most of the time. ”Someone who fights differently can be a challenge when all you know is sparring with your fellow Metkayina Navi. You need to make sure your differences are your advantage and not your….weakness.” The mans tone changed, his pause coming when yellow sunset eyes met Ao’nungs and melting all his insides with the action. He couldn’t help but let himself get swept away by the strong current of this forest dweller, but who could really blame him?   He was just on the outside of the cluster of warriors now, the younger Navi turning with Neteyams gaze to look. A couple of them averted their gazes, shuffling to make a little path for Ao’nung who had quite a bit of height on them. There were only a couple in the village taller than him at this point, even surpassing his father by just a bit. ”Ao’nung.”

Neteyam straightened his posture, giving a small nod in greeting with a knowing smirk. By Eywa his name never sounded so good. That sure and playful greeting with the confident fire flickering in the forest Navis eyes had his knees weak. ”I'm available if you needed an example, Karyu.” {teacher} He raised his arms with his offer, giving a small nod in return. There was a lightness to the air now, making him want to grin under the attention. The Omatikaya looked away with a small chuckle, shaking his head before letting out a deep breath. Ao’nung knew he wouldn’t deny him. He never did. ”Very well. It will be a good opportunity for them to see someone who can lose with dignity.” Ao’nung laughed, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms out with a flex of his fingers. ”I managed to pin you last time, Forest Boy. I think I'm due a little more credit then that.” Neteyam rolled his eyes, taking a couple steps back so they were far enough from the group of younger hunters to be that no one would get grazed or snagged by the long reaching swipes of Ao’nung. One teen with a bloody nose was enough. ”You’ll get more credit when you can keep me down for more than a couple seconds.” Despite his calm demeanor, Ao’nung could see it. The twitch and flick of Neteyams tail in anticipation, the way his intense gaze flitted around Ao’nung to take in his stance, anticipating and ever ready. He’s spent too long letting his gaze linger over the Forest Navi to mistake the signs by now. This was months of research at work. With a subject that just so happened to be pleasing to the eyes. Ao’nung readied himself, the two refusing to break eye contact as they circled their non-existent arena. The younger Navi around them spoke the occasional hushed bet or speculation, but mostly remained quiet in hopes of not missing anything. ”When you’re in a situation where hand to hand combat is your only option, you need to keep your eyes on the target. However, its important to be aware of your surroundings as well. In a life or death fight, no one cares about playing fair.” Neteyam spoke as they neared one another, and Ao’nung couldn’t help the small pang of irritation. Neteyam the dutiful teacher was present right now. And that’s not the side of Neteyam he wanted. He lunged forward, his lips twitching slightly at the urge to hiss at his opponent and bare his teeth. Neteyam stepped from his reach, ducking down to avoid the Metkayina's bulky arms. A long striped leg hooked behind his ankles, but he turned into the movement to step over and avoid eating sand. ”Trying to sweep me off my feet, ‘Teyam?” ”Well I have experience.”

Ao’nung couldn’t help the small snicker that left him, ducking down low as he tried to grapple Neteyam. Ao’nung knew his strengths. He’d been fighting and hunting for a long time now. He had size and weight to throw around. He could manage an occasional win if he could just get his hands on him. That was the hard part, and he was reminded of this when his fingers barely dragged against the skin of his opponents hip in passing. His fingertips ached to chase the sensation. Neteyam dipped from his arms, his legs stretching ridiculously low as he maneuvered away. A flick of his thin tail popped Ao’nung on the chest as he went.    Focus Ao’nung. Not the time. Save thoughts of those long legs for later when you can do something about it. Ao’nung wasn’t slow, but Neteyam? Neteyam was so fucking fast. Especially on land. ”I told you not to get so sure of yourself, ‘Nung.” Neteyams smirk only fueled his energy, the thrum of their faux battle starting to itch beneath his skin. He turned on his heel to try and follow the Omatikayas movement, only succeeding only in throwing himself off balance and stumbling a couple steps forward before catching himself. ”If you are in a fight where your opponent is larger, out maneuvering them can be your only option. If you’re caught, you’re dead. You dodge until you cant anymore. Wear them down.”

Neteyam turned on his heel to face Ao’nung again as he spoke with stern infliction, the uptick in his breathing not going unnoticed by the Metkayina. ”Tiring me out hasn’t worked before, has it? I've got stamina. ” ”I’ve yet to see you use it in combat, Ma’kelku .”   {My Home} Ao’nung could feel the warmth in his chest at the term, his ears drooping slightly even if his stance was still firm. His own endearments came freely, loud and possessive. Neteyams always came softly, between just the two of them. Private and overwhelming in all the best ways. Ao’nung should be grateful for it. Otherwise everyone in the village would know what a besotted fool Neteyam reduced him to with just a word. Words that pierced through the heart and into his soul. Neteyam darted forward himself this time without warning , ducking under another of Ao’nungs reflexive reaches to shove a shoulder into the muscle of his stomach. Ao’nung was startled, not having the time to grasp anywhere on his opponent before his feet left the ground and the most undignified squawk left his lips as he was thrown up and over Neteyams back, hitting the sand with a muted thud.   ”Ah- ‘Teyam! You Skxwang!”  {idiot} The teal man wheezed, but a large grin was still plastered on his face even with all his breath effectively knocked from his lungs. Neteyam extended his hand to help Ao’nung to his feet with a raise of his brows. ”Shall we go again?” ”Oh, Yawne, I can go as many times as you want.”   {beloved} The sickly sweet tone had no place on his lips, pulled into a sly suggestive grin, taking the offered hand. Instead of pulling himself up however, he took the opportunity to use some of his weight and pull Neteyam down to him. He caught the trimmer man with his other arm, rolling to flip them over and setting his larger finned forearm to the scarred chest to press his opponent into the sand.   Ao’nung could feel the heavy press of Neteyams chest against his as he fought for air, looking down at those wide eyes set in that striking angular face like he had a million times before. This is what he wanted. This is what he needed. Neteyam pressed against him, feeling his breath and his heartbeat. An assurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.  Neteyams surprised gaze and startled laughter was cut short, falling into something softer as Ao’nung dragged a thumb over the raised skin on his chest gently.  He brought a hand up to cover Ao’nungs, shaking his head. ” You’ll have to work with the unexpected. Learning one persons fighting style and how to combat it will not do you any favors. You could end up like me, stuck under a fool.”

Neteyam spoke firmly, but his eyes didn’t leave the larger Navi weighing him down. He let out a huff, rolling his eyes. Ao’nung breathed in a hushed tone between them, eyes lit with mirth.

”You know well this fool will do you plenty favors Ma‘Teyam.” Ao’nung knew better than to take that stern face for disinterest. The flick and drag of a tufted tail against his leg and the warmth that spread across that handsome face was plenty enough for him to preen. Unfortunately it was very short lived as those calloused blue hands that Ao’nung had foolishly not restrained pressed to his biceps, pushing them out and away.   Ao’nung once again found himself flipping up and backwards when Neteyam used the movement to wedge his legs up and using both knees to send the Metkayina over his head.

The teal Navi gasped in surprise and delight, unable to stop the loud laughter as he hit the ground again, wheezing a little. The younger warriors around them were also startled, eyes wide as Neteyam pushed himself from the sand and wiped off the clinging grains with a sigh. A flush still rode high on his cheeks and Ao’nung was proud for the accomplishment. Flustering Neteyam was no easy task by any means. For anyone else. Ao’nung had this down to an art. Considering their mating ceremony was some years ago now, it wasn’t a surprise he knew how to get under the Omatikayas skin…Among other things. ”Alright. Stay down.”

Neteyam sighed, bending a leg to press his knee to Ao’nungs sternum and keep him in place. He didn’t bare down too roughly, but the pressure settled something in the larger Navi and he smiled, raising his hands in mock surrender not for the first time. ”I’ll stay under you for as long as you want, ‘Teyam.” He didn’t bother moving, rolling his eyes and looking over at the still watching teens with a nod.

“It will be high light soon, I’ll expect you all out here first thing tomorrow. Go start your chores. I'm sure you’ve all got things to do for your families.” There were calls and nods of farewell as they all slowly departed, eyes pointedly darting to where Neteyam had Ao’nung pinned under him and the content expression on his face. Neteyam finally set those eyes on him, and Ao’nung knew he possessed all his attention at last.

“You know I thought when we got older, you might become less insufferable, Ma’Nung. It must be so exhausting.” Neteyams braids hung like curtains from over his shoulders, the length they’d gained clicking just above Ao’nung’ face as he leaned forward over him.   A dark striped hand came down to cup under his jaw, fingertips digging just a little into the soft skin of his cheeks and making his eyes flutter. His tone was playful and light, the smile accompanying it giving Ao’nung that pleasant knotted feeling in his stomach. The Teal Metkayina willingly titled his head up under the guidance of that touch, watching those heady yellow eyes drag down his throat to the braided choker of their own design. His courting gift now worn and weathered from the heated and hurried tugs of its wearer to welcome his mates teeth against the skin beneath. ”Patience was never a virtue of mine, yawne. You knew better.” {beloved} Neteyam let his grip relax, cupping the side of Ao’nungs face with a gentle thumb dragging against his lower lip to under his eye. Ao’nung pushed a kiss to his palm with a sly smile, bringing his larger hand up to rest over the forest Navi's own. Neteyam let his leg slide to the side so he was seated comfortably in his mates lap, leaning down to set his forehead against the others and speak in a rich tone. ”Hm. We should really move elsewhere. I don’t think anyone else should get to see how you unravel.” ”Eywa,’Teyam. Yes. Please.”