#and worry if he wa suspect with me or worry about how I need to not be crazy and just trust him bc he loves me

[allofuswantgwinam]

i feel like when you leave someone bc you have to for yourself and not bc you fell out of love with them makes things literally worse 🤩🤩🤩

[luveline]

I'd love a wisdom tooth with Hotch; I got mine removed last Saturday and I'm in pain 🥲

You should’ve had your wisdom teeth out years ago, but you couldn’t afford it. When Aaron suggested you get them removed after a particularly embarrassing bout of pain, you’d been honest with him: you still couldn’t afford it. Stuff kept going wrong, your car would break down, or your landlord would hike the rent, and you didn’t have enough saved up to do it without worry. 

So he pays for it. You don’t ask him to, you fight him on it, but he hates seeing you in pain. 

“You’re my hero,” you say, mumbling through gauze. “Generous hero.”

“It’s not generosity,” he says, reaching across the console of the car to catch your hand, “try not to touch your mouth.” 

“I feel dizzy.” 

“I know, honey. Can take some more deep breaths for me?” 

He suspects you’re not only dizzy, but overstimulated. You take a few deep breaths, and then you say, “That’s so nice.” 

“What is?” he asks, regretful as he takes the steering wheel into both hands and turns the car onto the next road. 

You’re his sweetheart, he means that firmly, and he’d do much more than pay for your dental surgery. You’ve been very honest with him about how grateful you are. It’s uncomfortable —you shouldn’t have needed his assistance, how unfair it is that you couldn’t afford it alone— but it’s sweet, too, to see your thankfulness manifesting itself while you aren’t entirely yourself. 

“You calling me honey.” 

“You think it’s old-fashioned.” 

“You’re super old-fashioned.”

“That’s not very nice,” he teases. “I remember when we first met, you were so nice and polite. Now you’re abrasive.” 

“I am not!”

“You’re cruel to me. What should I do about it?” 

“Nothing.” 

Aaron reaches over again to grab your thigh. “Nothing? That’s typical.” He pulls your leg toward him, and he gives the soft inside a squeeze you aren’t expecting. You laugh like a kid being tickled.

“You’re just bullying me while I’m defenceless.” 

“Is that what you are?” he asks, rubbing the length of leg he’d squeezed apologetically. “You can be mean to me for now, then, but when you’re feeling better we’re going to have to have a talk about where my nice girl went.” 

You make a sound that’s half excitement and half panic. “Do you mind?” 

He’s being a little much, sure, but you’d been swaying toward overwhelmed a few minutes ago. He figures some tough love will keep and hold your attention before you can remember the pain. “I don’t mind.” He pats your leg with his fingers, frowning when you shiver. “Are you cold?” he asks worriedly. 

“I’m freezing.” 

Luckily for you, you’re home. Aaron parks the car and gets out swiftly to retrieve you, fonder now that he can see up close. You aren’t as out of it as you’d been to begin with, recognition and light in your eyes as you unbuckle your seatbelt and he offers his hand. “Thanks,” you say, ducking out of the car with a little wobble, “I’m still dizzy, can you–”

“I’ve got you,” he says, hand braced more roughly than he means to at your elbow. 

It’s more of the same inside. You’re unsteady on your feet, he has to grab you to keep you standing, but he gets you into the kitchen at your request. His first port of call is a blanket for you. 

As he wraps it around your shoulders, he’s sure the anaesthesia is entirely worn off. You meet his gaze with an undeniable love. It’s in every line of your face. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

“You know I’m just kidding when I say you aren’t nice.” 

You nod. 

“Because you are,” he says. Looking after you isn’t generosity, it’s self-preservation. He’s found you, sweet and loving as you are, his match in teasing and seriousness alike. He has no intention of treating you with anything other than the utmost care. “Are you warm enough now? It’s a common side effect of sedation, the coldness. Your dizziness, too. It’ll feel better soon.” 

“Can I take this gauze out? I feel silly.” 

“If your gums aren’t bleeding anymore.” 

You haven’t had to spit, so you’ll be alright. Aaron washes his hands, has the honour of removing your gauze and witnessing your odd stitch, which he throws away to wash his hands again. Then he wets a cloth for you to wipe your face. It’s perhaps the uglier side of loving someone and looking after them, but he genuinely couldn’t care less. You’re just as lovely to him as you were yesterday, minus a few troublesome teeth. 

“Your cheek is swelling,” he says, stroking the line of your jaw carefully. 

“Well, you can’t stop liking me now. Then this surgery would be a total waste.” 

He laughs. “What do you mean?” he asks, tipping your chin up. 

“You pay for me to have no toothache and then we break up? It doesn’t make any sense.” 

“It makes zero sense. You’ve invented a scenario where I’d leave you,” he smiles like an idiot, “and that timeline doesn’t exist.” 

You close your eyes. He kisses your nose, weary of your soreness. 

“Timeline,” you mumble. 

“Oh, you have something to say? Let’s hear it.” 

You laugh and push him away. “I don’t have anything to say to you.” 

Unfortunately for you, Aaron has no intentions of being pushed away from you. He leans over to give you a hug and a kiss pressed to your temple, his hand feeling a path against the ridge of your shoulder. “Please tell me if I hurt you, I know your face is sensitive,” he says. 

You settle in his arms. “No, this is nice.” 

He presses another kiss atop the first one. 

[woneuntonzz]

hypothesis || smau — c.s, j.wy

➤ chapter 31 (back to chapters)

highschool senior!san x highschool senior!reader x highschool senior!wooyoung

contains: humor, heavy cursing, jealousy, angst, highschool au, reader is named & afab

» Happy Birthday, Sabrina.

⛦ ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ!

more under the cut .ᐟ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

\\

Normally, your birthday would be the best day of the year, being spent with your family and your friends. Now, you’re thinking maybe it’d be better if your mother hadn’t convinced you to throw a bigger party. She argued it should be extra special since it was your “last birthday as a highschooler” —all your mom’s words, of course.

San had gone early in the morning, insisting that he’d help with the preparations. He showed up uninvited, not that anyone would complain. He was very much welcome in your home. 

Then when the party was only less than an hour away, he approached you from behind, arms wrapped around your smaller figure. He whispers, “Wooyoung messaged me. There’s something important you need to know.”

As a natural reaction, you brought your head to the side, just enough to see his face. “What did he say?”

San pauses for seconds one hand can count before telling you, “I’ll show you our messages.”

Your initial reaction was just playful speculation, you thought maybe this must be a part of some surprise scheme they planned out, and you still thought that while reading into it, well, not until you read Ashe’s name. Her, again? —was all you could think. And she was coming to your birthday party. 

“Hey, angel. Are you okay? I can tell Ashe to—”

“To leave? No, she went all the way here to enjoy a party.” you laughed a little to cover up the clouds of worries that built up in your head. “No, no it’s okay. She’s very nice, you know?”

San was, of course, confused. He knew you knew who Ashe was, he told you that himself, what he didn’t understand was why you’d come up and say that ‘she’s nice’. “You two talked?”

“Yeah. Just about random things. We’re so much alike, it turns out.” you gave him that faint little laugh again, and at that point San’s arms went loose around you, and you’d escape his grasp and sit on the couch, now on your phone. 

San was working the gears in his head. He has no idea what Ashe told you or what she was on about, but he was scared. He sat next to you on the couch, staring at you for God knows how long, but it was surely long enough for Ashe to show up at your doorstep. 

And God, she was even prettier in real life —ironic, because that’s exactly what she said when she first saw you. It was like your minds truly were one and the same. We’re so much alike, which must've been why San liked me.

“You know, it’s quite nice to have a friend that I relate to so much.” says Ashe who didn’t know how depressing your thoughts had become ever since she’s gotten to your house.

Still, you gave her a smile, which was genuine enough for her to smile back, and in your mind it looked like one of those supervillain smiles. “Yeah, it’s very nice.” that sounded kinda forced, so you spoke again. “Hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Oh, believe me.” her chuckled made you want to backflip to her face. “I’m having so much fun.”

She must’ve been, because you saw her talking to San at the corner later that day. San was facing away from you, but you could see Ashe smiling, and you could see her hand too, touching his shoulder like she’s playing with clay or something. 

All of that happened while Wooyoung was at the other corner —more accurately with the rest of the others— observing you. His eyes went from San and Ashe to you every two seconds, and eventually they would stay on you, just watching how dejected your expression had become. He knew there was something wrong, but he suspected it a while back, he just didn’t want to interfere or be nosy, anyways he didn’t want to be the cause of your relationship with San.

But now he feels guilty. Maybe he should’ve told Ashe to fuck off —which was what his impulse was telling him— or maybe some other nicer way to tell her to go away. But he didn’t do any of that. Instead, he just let it happen. 

The day was about to end when Wooyoung asked if he could talk to you, and just you. Of course you agreed, you had no reason not to. You were smiling until you heard him say, “I’m sorry.”

His apology got you shaking your head. “No wait, why are you apologizing?”

“I’m the reason why Ashe got here. I’m sorry.” His repeated apology only glossed your eyes with a thin layer of water.

“Stop apologizing, Woo. It’s…” Wooyoung was visibly worried, stepping a little closer till he could tell you were about to break down. 

“It’s…?” His voice was so soft, and so patient that you managed to voice out a reply. 

“It’s hurting me that-that San’s ex is too similar to me and I hate it. I think… I think San only likes me because…” you didn’t have to finish your sentence, Wooyoung had already pulled you into his arms, gently stroking the small space of your back.

Wooyoung didn’t know for sure, but maybe it was true. After all, San’s liking towards you seemed so sudden to him, especially since San has always known that he liked you for quite some time now. Wooyoung didn’t know Ashe personally, they were never close like that, but he trusted you. 

Your back was turned away from the door when San came out from it and was stopped in his tracks at the sight of Wooyoung and the girl he’s fallen for in his arms. He kept his eyes on you, face painted with worry. He was gonna speak, but then he saw Wooyoung’s face. He didn’t look angry, but he was surely not happy to see San. Instead of making a scene, San left and closed the door, just enough for you to hear. 

You were about to pull away from Wooyoung and check the door, but then Wooyoung kept you in place. “Your mom just came in to check on you.” he whispered, smiling down at you. 

previous » next

⁀➴ @davinashifts333 @wrotebyrini @wooyoungyeo

[kimbap-r0ll]

For requests, how about a scenario where Reader gets into an accident and forgets that they are the SO of the housewardens? And then as they slowly recover from their injury, they end up falling in love with their vice housewarden instead? For Leona pretend that its Ruggie and for Idia….just have it be a dorm rando. Time for a little bit of angst!

Omg wait that's really sad haha. Thank you for the ask! For Idia I have decided to go with Cater

Dorm Leaders with an s/o who loses their memory and falls for the vice dorm leaders instead

Riddle

He was so worried about you, he couldn't believe the accident that you got into and hoped that you were alright. When he ran to the infirmary, he realized thankfully you looked fine, but the nurse said your memories might be the ones in injury

Riddle tried to cope it. He would talk to you all day whenever he could when you woke up, but he knew he couldn't just run to you saying that you were his lover. He took it slowly, but perhaps his strict nature didn't work well with you since you seemed to find comfort in another softer Heartslabyul student

Trey had been visiting you whenever RIddle did and sometimes he went in Riddle's place because he was busy with dorm leader duties. He would listen to whatever you had to say and sometimes bring treats. You found comfort in his chill attitude, not the worried look Riddle always had on his face. You thought perhaps he was the one that you were dating before since Trey kept mentioning you were in love with someone.

Riddle suspects something's amiss but doesn't push you to learn what is going on. He only finds out after you leave the infirmary and run to Trey. "Ah, I'm glad to see you too!" Trey says awkwardly, glancing at Riddle and then back at you. Riddle is silent, but he sighs and nods. "I'm just glad you're safe."

Riddle will think this is his failure. He failed to take care of you, he wasn't the boyfriend you deserved. Though Trey may not feel the same way for you, Riddle knows you like him. For now, he shelves his goal to bring back the past and keeps the memories he had with you close to his heart. He'll still talk to you, but you may notice a sad look in his eyes

Leona

He didn't think you were in a serious accident until Ruggie kept trying to drag Leona out of his room to meet you. You were in the infirmary for a few hours now and hadn't returned. Leona was worried for you but didn't think he had to go, but oh well he went

Leona doesn't try to push you to tell him everything, he just asks if you're hurting anywhere. But when you ask him who he is, he suddenly has a look of urgency. "Y/n, don't tell me you lost your memories," Leona says. The nurse explains to him what had happened, and now Leona's really concerned.

He tries to help you regain your memories but with his schedule and his natural laid-back personality, he doesn't come as often as you would expect. Instead, he might send Ruggie to do most of the talking. This ends up making you two close, or at least makes you attached to the hyena student.

Once you leave the infirmary, you go looking for Ruggie to say thank you for everything he's done to help you. You don't remember a lot from the past, but you do remember there was a person who would always be with you and whom you called your "love." So, you assumed it was Ruggie. When Leona and Ruggie saw you, you ran over and hugged the vice leader.

Leona feared this might happen but never considered it. Now that it has happened, he doesn't know what to do. Should he do something about Ruggie? No, he can't do that, after all, perhaps this was all Leona's fault. Similar to Riddle, he will think it's his failure to take care of you and just tell himself that he wasn't good enough. He will stay away from you to keep his heart from hurting more

Azul

He's basically running from his class to the infirmary when he hears about this from one of the tweels. He can't believe that you got hurt, were you okay? When he sees you lying in one of the infirmary beds, he tries to wake you up but the nurse stops him, saying that you need to wake up on your own for your own health

It turns out that whatever hit you took your memories, only leaving a few key memories but blurring them a bit. Azul's scared you forgot about him, and the moment you wake up bombards you with information and questions. You get overwhelmed and end up pushing him away.

He does calm down a bit, but he continuously asks you everyday "do you remember anything about me?" You end up thinking he's full of himself, or perhaps, maybe just a bit, insecure. Jade does visit you too whenever Azul can't make it. Jade is much calmer, not pushing your already strained mind. That's what makes you think he's caring. You two end up spending more time together than Jade expected, with you slowly falling for him.

When you are able to go to classes again, Azul's the one to greet you first out the infirmary. But when he opens his arms and says welcome back, you don't greet him and coldly asks "where's Jade?" Azul pauses. Why were you looking for Jade? "I think he was my boyfriend, at least from my memories, right? I need to apologize for burdening him."

Azul feels his heart stop. This was the last thing he expected to happen. Out of all people, you thought Jade was your lover, Jade! Azul shakes his head, but before you can ask him anything else, he's speed walking down the hallway opposite of you. He doesn't want to deal with this at the moment, instead he needs somewhere private to hide his tears. He knew he was a worthless octopus, but he didn't think he could lose you. You were the one person he thought he could finally be with, but he lost you.

Kalim

He's like Azul in the case of running to you and asking you a bunch of questions. Kalim cares for you too much, but that can sometimes feel intrusive and because of that you push him away at first. The nurse also tells him that it's better for your mental health to take things slowly

Kalim visits you a lot, but sometimes he can't make it. Because of that Jamil's the one to deliver most of the questions and gifts. Jamil's calm, never too energetic, and not to mention very understanding of you. He doesn't push you and seems concerned for your health perhaps more than Kalim.

You remember that you asked someone out and went on carpet rides with them. But who was it? The face was blurred, but you knew it was someone in the school. With the way Jamil would gently place his hand on yours while telling you to not push your health you thought perhaps this guy was the one you fell for

Once out of the hospital, you go looking for Jamil. You made sure not to tell Kalim you were out since you didn't want to get tackled (he almost did that during one of his visits). You end up finding Jamil in the hallway, and he just says hello and that he's happy to see you before walking away with Trey but you stop him. "I wanted to thank you, and, that I think I remember who I was with, I think it was you." Your words cause Jamil to look at you with a confused look, not to mention a look of panic.

Kalim makes a horrible timing by coming out of the near classroom and exclaiming he's happy to see you. Jamil quickly leaves the scene with Trey, saying he needs to go. Kalim notices you looking at Jamil walking away while ignoring Kalim, and that's when he realizes what's going on. "Ah, he'll be done with classes at 3 today, he'll be back in Scarabia's lounge by then," he says. He feels his heart hurting, but he doesn't want to see you sad either. This dilemma is what causes him to stop his questions

Vil

He didn't think there would be any consequences to ignoring Rook's words that you were in the infirmary with a horrible injury. Just another dramatic Rook, Vil would say to himself. But he was so, so wrong

Vil did show up to check on you often. He did care for you deeply, but his work would always be in the way. He did find out that you had memory loss, and knowing that pushing you would be bad, Vil kept his distance. He would ask you if you were alright but he was so...stoic. It came from his fear of hurting you to be honest, but perhaps that was the curse of being too careful

Rook on the other hand was almost bombastic with his talking. He wasn't stern with his questions, he would joke around with you and often tell tales that made you laugh and look at him with intrigued eyes. You knew you were in a relationship with someone, but it had to be with the guy that would spend five hours at a time with you just to talk to you about whatever

Once you were out of the infirmary, you immediately went to go look for Rook. Rook was with Vil at that time, discussing how Vil needed to try voice acting for a new movie when you called out Rook's name. Both Pomefiore students looked up, and before Vil could say "Y/n you're back" you had run up and hugged Rook.

Rook could feel Vil staring at him while Rook was just patting your back and saying "Oui, I'm glad you're out of the infirmary now." Vil didn't have to ask any questions to know what was going on, he had worried about your memories being mixed up but that was on Vil. Even if Vil wanted to find a way to remind you who you were originally with, at the moment Vil was too overwhelmed to do anything other than ask you to stop. "Why?" you asked, but Vil didn't respond and just left. Rook would also try to convince you that the two of you weren't dating, but words can only go so far, right?

Idia

He was so worried for you when he heard you were hurt. He kept trying to visit you but his fear of people, especially the overly extroverted nurses, kept him away from entering the infirmary. Instead he would send text messages or try to call you, which only worked a bit

Cater on the other hand, a friend of yours from classes, would visit you every day. Face to face conversations all the time too. He would share what they did in class to you, sometimes he would talk about Lilia's attempts at covering a ballad, etc.

You found yourself enjoying the conversations, and slowly you warmed up to him. He was kind, funny, and just overall a very good person for you to talk to. It was different from the texts you got that were a bit disconnected from the face-to-face conversations you needed. You knew you had a boyfriend, and it made sense that the person to visit you cared for you

Once you left the infirmary, you went to the Heartslabyul rose garden. You assumed he would be there since that was a place he mentioned he liked to study, and he was there! You thanked him for being with you, and then confessed that you remember the two of you being together. Cater paused, then laughed and said "Ah, is that so? You don't think it was a certain, blue-haired dorm leader?"

Cater doesn't want to sound mean, but he's seriously confused. You liked Idia and even told him that first! Idia on the other hand, is wondering where you are. He does manage to run into you in the hallway when you're coming back from talking to Cater and when he tries to talk to you, you just walk past him. He stops, was this a curse he placed on himself? He knew his introverted personality could affect the relationship, so maybe this was his fault. He doesn't know if he should follow you, and because of that he doesn't try to run after you

Malleus

The whole building shook when the news was delivered to the fae prince. He knew the fragility of humans and was extremely worried about you. He ran to the infirmary to make sure you were alright. It turned out that you were fine but your memories weren't

He visited you everyday. He stayed with you overnight on some occasions too, but you couldn't help feel uneasy with how much he was in your life. Sure it was nice to have him care for you, and you knew he cared. But, sometimes it felt like it was all too much

In comes Lilia, a figure that would sometimes visit with Malleus and sometimes by himself. He was playful and knew to keep things simple between the two of you. It gave you room to breathe, and because of that you slowly found him to be someone you found comfort in. Perhaps this was the person you had fallen in love with?

You end up looking for Lilia the moment you're out of the infirmary. Malleus finds you and runs up to you, saying how glad he is to see you healthy again. But you sigh and tell him that you're looking for someone. "Where's Lilia? I need to apologize to him for forgetting he was my boyfriend," you laugh awkwardly. Malleus looks at you with a surprised expression, but it slowly becomes serious. "Y/n, what do you mean?"

This is the one situation where it could get dangerous. He could just give up on finding a relationship and finding someone he can be happy with. He might tell himself it was his fault for failing to understand you and direct you to Lilia. Or, if it's particularly a bad day, he could overblot a few minutes after you explain that Malleus can't be your boyfriend.

[cozmicclown]

Welcome Home Secret Audio Tapes Transcribed (Accurately): Tape #4 Frank & Barnaby

Still posting these because the secret invisible transcripts under the audio tapes aren’t 100% accurate, and I like things to be exact. I may be motivated to post more of these if I spent less time doing them up nice. I’d also be WAY more motivated if I could find that special specific American typewriter font with the rounded Tuscan serifs used in the real WH script pieced together on that secret page. I’m beginning to suspect that’s a CUSTOM font.

Yes I know the last one I posted was audio tape #2, I’ve got #3 written out but not done up/aged, but I had this one finished and if I didn’t post it now it would be harder for me to get to it later.

Full Written Transcription Under Cut

Page 1

EXT. FRANKS FRONT GARDEN - DAY

SCENE FADES IN, AS FRANK FRANKLY, HOMES MOST STUDIOUS AND DETAIL-ORIENTED NEIGHBOUR, IS CAUGHT MID SENTENCE EXPLAINING SOME FINE DETAIL OF HIS METICULOUS GARDEN.

FRANK

“Blue, don't actually have any blue pigmentation. They have to grow in soil that is basic as well, so the pine straw should be left for the other beds-“

BARNABY B. BEAGLE, LARGE, BLUE, STAND-UP COMEDIAN CANINE (WHO GETS AROUND A LOT FOR A SUPPOSED LAY ABOUT), INTERRUPTS FRANK AS HE STROLLS UP THE PATH TO FRANKS FRONT GARDEN.

BARNABY

“You're tellin' me that these flowers are liars, Franky?”

FRANK

(Exasperated sigh as he notices Barnaby approaching.)

“Urgh, I'm not telling you that these flowers are liars, Barnaby. I'm talking about how these flowers are specially selected to look this way.”

FRANK GESTURES TO HIS CORNFLOWERS IN THEIR POTS.

BARNABY

“Eh, bein' blue isn't anything special, pal. Don't ya know that blue is all the rage nowadays?”

FRANK

“I don't think people are painting themselves blue, frankly. Are you saying your fur color isn't natural?”

FRANK SUGGESTS THIS WITH A SLIGHT CHUCKLE.

BARNABY

(Feigning insult.)

“I beg your pardon!? I'm a natural beauty, as far as you know.”

Page 2

FRANK

“Heh. I doubt you're any sort of beagle. I've never seen any blue dog before in my life! Now, if you don't mind, we'd like to continue tending to my flowers in peace.”

BARNABY

“You're gonna have to do more than tend to 'em if you want 'em to grow up nice and big. You know what they say: you gotta entertain your plants to make 'em happy.”

FRANK

“Heh, That's true... but I'm not going to let your snappy patter poison my petunias

I'd hardly call your material entertaining, much less fertilizer.”

BARNABY

(Subtle standup tone.)

“Oh, don't you worry, Frank. The last thing I'll do is overwhelm your orchid. Your plants all seem clover it.”

FRANK

(Annoyed groan before taking a deep breath.)

“Uuurrggggh. Not with these puns again. You're going to make all of my hard work wilt! Your humor is too dry for my impatiens.”

BARNABY

“Hey, hey! Not a daisy goes by where you don't get impatient... but hey, I'm just pollen your leg.”

FRANK

(Another deep breath and annoyed groan.)

“Uuurgggg. Will. You. Just. Get. Out of here!? My plants don't need your ridiculous jokes to grow; go find an audience for your silly gags somewhere else.”

Page 3

BARNABY

(Starting walking away backwards.)

“Alright, alright, I'll grow... But every dogwood has his day! I'll still poppy in from time to time, even if you're still a little rough around the hedges!”

FRANK GROANS AND FUMES AT EACH PUN AS BARNABY GETS FURTHER AND FURTHER AWAY.

FRANK

“Hrrrrr, hm. Urgh, honestly with him! I don't know how you can stand to be around him, Wa//=Y.”

End Scene

[twsted-princess]

💁 Any Of the Melships

💏 CarolMetaron

🍶 NanoyaLucille

Take a pick what piques your fancy

Fuck that I'm doing all three!!

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit fuck shit fuck shit fuck shit FUCK. Leroy couldn't believe this. This is not happening. Nope, not at all. This all just an elaborate dream, he's not stuck in a box with his fucking crush no sir. He's gonna wake up and it'll be a normal ordinary day and nothing bad is- "L- Leroy?" Her voice reached his ears as his face grew increasingly hot. Oh.....right. He was in her chest this entire time. "I- I'm ok Melanie.....s- sorry." This was all his fault, he just wanted to show her the new invention he was working on only to trip over some stupid wires, causing the both of them to fall into a chest that then locked them in. "N- No it's ok....." she couldn't see him at all but she wanted to comfort him, maybe rub his head a little..... The silence was so suffering as they didn't even know how to fix this predicament but then it clicked on the chameleon. "My phone! I have it on me! We can call Henry!" He mentally patted himself on the back until she murmured "Oh! Uh ok, where....is it?" Then the dread sunk fully in............his phone is in his back pants pocket.

Carol sighed, why couldn't today be easy? This was supposed to be a plain old studying day with her group, helping Kira figure out math equations and but someone had to show up. Barry. Mr. Blondie. Sir "I have the most punchable face in all of Twisted Wonderland" was here too. Granted he was being tutored by Eikon but still why was he in the HSA library? It's bad enough that Peko was the one to notice him but now she has a new fear. That the second he's done he'll spot her, and try to talk to her. "I'm just sayin' Miss Apple I can send his dick into the sun." Greg said, kicking his legs up on the table and his chair leaned dangerously back as she scowled. "It's fine...." No, no it was not fine but she tried to ignore the feeling as she continued her lesson, occasionally listening to Eikon trying to get the material through Barry's thick skull. Eventually she was done, everything was finished and the two singers left for whatever activities they had planned leaving her with Kira. They had wandered off to the manga section as she studied the trial tests until she felt someone tap her shoulder. "Barry what do you wa-" Her eyes then saw the green gingham wrapped bento followed by another voice. "Really? You thought I was that idiot, I'm hurt." She sighed, taking the box she looked up at Metaron with a small smile. "Thanks, sorry for snapping I was ju-" Suddenly his lips were on hers, the world came to a halt for her as she didn't seen to notice that Barry was indeed looking towards her. Only to be forever cockblocked.

"For the last time I'm not taking part in these games." Nanoya sighed as he was dragged along by his friend. He knew this was a bad idea. A horrible one even. But Flynn smiled at him with his signature smirk. "There's nothing to worry about my dear friend, it's only a small gathering of like minded companions." Nanoya narrowed his eyes. "You can drop the thematics Flynn, what are you planning?" The raven grasped his hand to his chest. In pain over his closest ally suspecting him of foul play. "Like I said it's just a little get-together. Some beverages, snacks, maybe a game or two. Come on you need to socialize more anyways." The third year sighed, rubbing his temple. "Ok fine but try anything dumb and I'm leaving." Red eyes glimmered as the two finally got the gathering room. He was right about a few things. It was small, only twenty people showed and mostly of whom he was friendly were. There were drinks and snacks, one of which was frog themed dango clearly brought by Kaeru but what he didn't mention was- "Nano!!!" Shit. He couldn't even hide fast enough when he saw her rush over to him. Lucille, the girl from Death's Academy of Combat and a pseudo fangirl of his although he actually tolerated her. "I didn't think you'd show up! What's up! How's things going! You're looking pretty buff right now~!!" Just a barrage of questions coming from the blonde as he felt the sweat drip while Flynn was nowhere in sight. He noticed that she had left Melanie chatting with Kumo and Gabrielle as she yaps before he quickly coughed "H- How about we sit down, you can go back to that couch I'm gonna get a drink first." She agreed thankfully and with water in tow he joined the small group with Lucille sitting right in between him and her best friend. Everything seemed normal, nothing suspicious was happening and Nanoya even felt comfortable joining in to crack some jokes just to see Lucl laugh. While he'll never truly admit it he did find her rather......cute. She was perky, confident, a little irritating but knew when to back off and really.....just nice to be around. But he just liked her as a friend, nothing more and nothing less. However he then noticed Flynn with a devilish grin as he coughed. Oh no. "Ladies, gentlemen and everyone in between! I'm overjoyed that you're all enjoying yourselves but I just had a wonderful idea!" Ooooooooh no. "Has anyone ever heard.......of spin the bottle?" Hell to the no. That's it. Fuck this shit he's out, until he heard Lucille smile. "Sounds fun!!" Oh god not her....but Flynn was already breaking out a fake wine bottle, he couldn't leave. Letting out a sigh he gave in, hoping it'll at least end quickly. The festivities were......interesting at while some did kiss on the lips, others on the cheek, it landed on Kumo and Fennec once and they both glared at Flynn enough for them to pass. Soon it did the worst possible option, Lucille......and Nanoya. As the crowd ooh-ed he watched her bat her eyes and snickered. She'd already kissed Melanie but now he was her target however before she could lean in, he placed two fingers on her lips. Looking away with a blush. "Y- You can kiss me there.....ok?"

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

Part of the convocation (part 2) -Miguel Diaz x reader

A/N: I was today years old when I found out I never posted the second part. I am so sorry I feel kinda bad ngl.

"Look, Tory, it was an accident. I only attacked cause I thought it might be you" I explain to her, even tho I don't owe her anything. "Really? Cause it's not what I just heard her tell Miguel" Tory says, and turned her back to me, walking away. "What? What the hell. Tory, hey, come back-" i call, but she ignores me. I can almost hear her little laugh, enjoining as things around her crumble. I hate that bitch, but she is not my biggest worry right now.

"You didn't actually hit her, on purpose, right?" Hawk asked  just as confused as me. "Of course not! I have nothing agains Sam, were not even In rival Dojos or anything!" I half-full at him. He looks a bit offended, but he quickly shakes it off. "Why would Sam lie to Miguel like that, I mean, there is no way he will buy it, right? You are the least violent person in, you know, Eagle Fang" Demetri says, highlighting the fact that compared to his Miagi-Do friends, I am very, very violent. "I don't fucking know" I say, anger slipping into my tone, "but I am not letting her get away with it". 

I make my way to the cafeteria, red in my eyes. Sam can suspect me, that's one thing, but making up shit about me so she can stay in Miguel's good graces is a whole other thing. I could feel my blood getting hot as the anger was bubbling inside me. I shook my hands in an attempt to calm down, fighting the urge to clench it into a first and punch that girl.

I entered the cafeteria and walked straight to Miguels usual spot. He was there, sitting with Sam. "I didn't know that the best defense Miagi-do teaches is 'bitch on, bitch off', Sam" I said. It's good right? Those past few minutes I've been thinking of a punch that is with words and not an actual punch. Sam looked at me, doe-eyed, fully preparing to deny her lies in front of Miguel. "Sam, what is she talking about?" Miguel asked, confused, and then when he got no response, he turned to me. "(Y/n), what is going in?" The words left Miguel's lips, and I looked at him, and then at sam. "Well, your girlfriend here-" I started, but I just couldn't. He'll be so hurt. If he'll see Sam for who she really is, he'll be mine, but I'll be just as bad as her. This is playing dirty, I think. I can't be the one who breaks his heart. "Is a lovely girl, and I am so happy for you two, that you found each other" I say, and with that I go away, as far as I can. My legs carry me, and before I know it I find myself at the Dojo. I throw my back to the side and kick if my shoes, getting into position across from the punch bag. "Stupid" I call out, punching the bag with my right hand, "fucking" I call, throwing another punch with my left hand, "morals" I scream, and kick the bag.

"I figured you'd come here" I hear a familiar voice. "What do you want?" I sigh as I keep punching the bag. "I want to know why you didn't tell me what happened" Miguel replied. I look at him, he's still in his school outfit, and he is leaning at the wall right next to the entrance.  "What do you mean by 'what happened'?" I ask him, playing clueless in order to avoid the subject. "Sam" he said, "she snuck up on you, questioning your morals and my loyalty" he explained, "not very cool of her". I let out a small laugh and punched the bag once again. And again. And again.

"Your stance is a little off" Miguel finally said something. He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on and came close to me. 

"You need to like, raise your hands, you place one like so" Miguel said as he corrected my stance. "You need to have your hips turned, alright, it's all in the legs. Strong base" he continued, grabbing my shoulders from the back and turning me to him. He posed himself across from me to show me how it's done. I mimicked his pose. "Now throw a punch" he said, and so I did. He blocked it, and i recognized the movement as "wax on, wax off". "That was great" he smiled at me, "you know what wasn't great?" He asked, "you hiding the the run-in with Sam from me" he answered himself. I sigh.

"Look, can we just let it go? It was a misunderstanding, that's all" I say, walking away from him to grab my water bottle. "No, it wasn't just anything, (y/n), I saw you at the school, you were pissed, and rightfully so" he said, following me. "Yeah, I was pissed she lied about it and made me the bad guy, when in reality, there wasn't any bad guy in this story" I say, and started chugging some water. I can't have this conversation with him, at least not right now. "Hawk told me the truth, (y/n), Demetri said you looked like you were about to attack Sam for real, but you didn't" Miguel kept going. "Yeah, that'll just make her right" I say, holding myself back from confessing I just didn't wanna hurt him by hurting her. "She shouldn't have lied to me like that" Miguel says, "and at first, I didn't realise why, cause the only thing that she got out of it was me thinking less of you, and why would she want that?" He asked, "I mean, that's the only reason I believed her at first, it sounded so unlike you, but she had no reason to lie, except she does" Miguel continued. I looked at him, slightly confused, "yeah, the reason being she wants you all for herself and can't respect the fact you have female friends" I said, not caring how mean it sounds. "Yeah, I guess, but also, it's you. She sees you as a threat, and I get that, after everything that happened with Tory-"

"If you chased me all the way here to ask me to forgive her, then you are more than welcome to leave" the words escaped my lips before I could stop it. Tears were starting to form in my eyes, and no way in hell I'm letting him see me cry. I spun back in front of the punch bag and punched it hard. "I came here to say that i- look, she's right to see you as a threat. You are a pretty girl who I hang out with a lot, and have more in common with, and is sweet, and kind, and funny, and…" Miguel goes on and on, until he stops and fires his eyebrows. "Gee, how didn't I see that before? You are far more right for me than her" he sighed, "I guess she felt… she felt like she can't compare". I looked back at him, confused. "What are you talking about Miguel?" I finally say, but he stays quiet. "Miggie? I say, breaking the silence with a nickname in Hope's he'll talk. "Sensai.." I try again, but instead of breaking his silence he breaks the distance between us and pulls me in for what felt like magic, but was just a kiss. One that should not happen. As much as kissing him back felt right, I pull away. "Miguel, not to say I don't want this, but, uh, we really shouldn't. You're with sam, and I.. I am not a homewrecker" I say.

"No, no, I should have mentioned it before, I broke up with her" Miguel said. I want to smile, but I swallow the urge. "And why is that?" I end up asking. "Because I realised… I realized her jealousy of our connection is, well, it's justified. I like you, a lot, and I… I think, sam realized I like you as more then a friend before I did, you know, I was so convinced it's her I'm in love with, after all I've been through in order to get back to her.." he started rumbling, and I started to get upset. "What do you mean?" I sigh. "I mean that… look, I don't know what I mean, I just like you, as more than a friend, and I… that kiss felt pretty good, you know? And I… I don't know what to think or feel and this is so strange for me, cause like…" he tries to explain, but I'm done waiting. My instincts are telling to just leave him here, but for some reason i find myself pulling him back for a kiss. He kisses me, and the magic is back on. "Finally" I think, and I guess i thought out loud. "Finally what?" Miguel asks in between kisses. "I guess I… I was into you for a while" I admit, pulling him closer. I could feel how his lips curve into a smile against mine. "How didn't I see it before?" He asked himself, pulling away, hands resting on my shoulders. His brown eyes looked right into my eyes, shining in a way I never saw before. "You just.. saw me as part of the convocation" I said, and he smiled at me. 

[transtranslations]

so I'm thinking about buying the Japanese translation of Ukridge, because the art is super cute and it looks like a lot of fun.

attempt at a literal translation of what Ukridge says on the intro page there (by "literal" I mean "without Edwardianing it up to match the vibes of the original"): “Yo, my bosom buddy! I’ve got a nice moneymaking scheme for ya - won’t you take a bite? You don’t have to worry about a thing - my plan is perfect, like always."

Fun notes about this:

よお (yoo) has the exact same meaning and connotation as "yo" does in English. This is very important to me.

The kanji for "bosom buddy" or "kindred spirit", 心の友 (kokoro no tomo), literally reads as "friend of my heart", which is incredibly cute.

Ukridge speaks very casually here, with 貴公 (kikou) being an old-fashioned form of "you" generally said to equals or social inferiors (for the record, it's often rude to even say "you" to someone at all in Japanese if you don't know them well - you're meant to use the third person even when talking to them - and while I have not yet read it in Japanese I suspect Ukridge is kikouing everyone he meets), and changes the negative verb ending ない (nai) to the slangier, more colloquial ね (ne) at every turn. It's such a big part of Ukridge's character that his casual nature has zero regard for class, situation, or decorum, and I love how this translation reflects that.

Easily the best part of this entire translation is the fact that Ukridge's personal pronoun (what he uses to say "I") is 我輩 (wagahai), which carries the connotation of the user being absurdly arrogant. There's a reason Wagahai wa Neko de Aru (I Am a Cat) by Natsume Soseki gives the cat protagonist this pronoun. He is a cat. Cats are like that. And apparently, so is Ukridge. The cocky bastard. I love him so much.

conclusion: there needs to be a Ukridge manga like, yesterday. please. there's already a Jeeves one and it's great. a Ukridge manga would be so much fun.

[elisethetraveller]

Continued from; misstantabismuses

She had been left in the care of the medic again! Not because Jinx had any injuries, but because Silco had a long and drawn-out meeting with the Chem-Barons, which, according to him, she would probably find boring to attend to. Sevika couldn't watch over her either, thank Janna, because she too had to attend that same meeting. Thus that only left Jinx in the capable hands of Elise. The little girl wasn't very happy about this development. She didn't like being left out of Silco's sight for long periods of time, even if those were few and far between. She was always worried that he would eventually just force her to stay at Elise's because he didn't want her. Because currently, she just couldn't contribute anything. Her bombs still more often than not refused to work. "He is going to get rid of you, baby sister. He does not need you anymore. You broken, useless thing…" The whispered words were almost overloaded with the feeling of statics as Jinx looked at Bunny. For a few seconds, its soft, round face was layered with white lines forming an angry scowl and bared teeth. A condescending glare, accusing her of even daring to miss Silco. Silco, the Monster! But then Jinx was a monster too. A monster, no one wants. "Stop looking at me", Jinx whispered and wrapped small hands around Bunny's neck, giving it a harsh squeeze. However, she soon stopped and hugged the plush rabbit again, patting its back as if she wanted to apologise for squeezing so very tightly. Outside the medical den were the noises of the Undercity: The rushing of the Pilt, intercepted by the calls of fishermen and the dipping of nets and river otters into the water, the rhythmical heartbeat of the running machinery in the factories, wheels spinning, hammers stomping, barfing up smog into the air, creating the grey, which penetrated the very air they all breathed. Jinx looked up when Elise came to a halt beside her. The woman always smelled heavily of herbs and bitters and medicine, but also of blood. Though she at least made a point to keep herself clean. Instinctively, Jinx shielded Bunny a touch and asked almost defiantly: "What are you looking at?" Jinx gave a surprised squeal when Elise picked her up and hoisted her on her back. Holding onto Bunny with one arm, she wrapped her other hand closely around the healer's temple. Her legs instinctively locked around Elise's taille. The sudden shift in altitude and height was enough to startle Jinx out of her grim mood. Looking around in surprise and awe, she quickly strengthened her grasp as Elise slowly began to walk. It took Jinx a bit, however, she eventually managed to adjust how she sat, following the rise and fall of Elise's steps with her weight. The gentle swaying made Jinx think she was stirring a boat across a tumultuous ocean. She continued to gaze around, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide, as she took in the ever-shifting surroundings. "Are we going somewhere?"

At the sound of whispered words, Elise looked back at Jinx, both to check who she was talking to and to make sure she wasn't having any issues. Brow furrowing a little, she was about to ask the younger to repeat herself, worried she hadn't heard her due to the bustling street, when she noted the tight grip on the stuffed bunny. The blue-haired girl was a little old to be talking to stuffed animals, but the healer was starting to suspect it wasn't a matter of maturity but rather…something else.

Contemplating for a moment, the defensive comment caught her off-guard. Whatever it was, now wasn't the time to talk about it. So instead, she shook her head, a kind smile spreading across her face as she lifted the younger onto her shoulders. While not as lithe as Jinx or Silco, both people the healer would say bore marks of having been malnourished, the mage was nimble in build. However, she had no problems carrying the younger while walking.

"Just wanted to ensure I didn't lose you in the foot traffic," Elise explained, walking faster now that she didn't have to be mindful of Jinx's shorter legs. Following the winding streets of the Lanes, they soon became steeper as they began walking out of the fissures.

"We are indeed." Turning her head, the mage's pale eyes sought out Jinx's while walking. "I have some books and reports I would like to get a look at in preparation for the sickly months, but unfortunately, your sister city isn't too interested in sharing information with Zaun, so we will have to go topside. And who knows, I was hoping we might also find some books for you while up there." The academy library, after all, had the most extensive collection of scientific literature in either city. A library that was open to anyone. As long as they were from Piltover, of course. "Think of it as our mission for the day while the others are at their meeting."

Turning down a side alley, just as the narrow streets of Zaun began opening up into fresh air only a little further ahead, opening up into the plaza just before the bridge crossing, the mage stopped out of sight from the main road.

"However, we can't exactly get in looking like this, so hold tight for a moment." Like red static on a broken screen, Elise's appearance changed in the blink of an eye; white hair became blond, silver eyes green, and her unnaturally white skin became a more healthy pale pink with a trail of freckles across her cheeks. In the same instance, the colourful embroideries on her cloak faded into white as her clothes turned into an academy uniform.

"Well, that was me." She lifted Jinx from her shoulders and placed the girl back on the ground. "How do I look?" Holding out her arms, she did a little theatrical twirl. Stopping, she waited for the blue-haired girl to take in the change before asking her next question.

"Now it's your turn. How do you want to look? Mind you," For a second, her eyes' green faded into their actual silver. "You will have to stick to your physical form, but I can change how things look."

( @misstantabismuses )

[threelionsgirl]

Write one where you and Jadon aren't officially official and you get to know that he's still occasionally seeing one of his old flings so you stop talking to him and he realises his mistake and he makes it up to you ☁️

making official | jadon sancho

warnings: nothing, I think, it's fluffy! has a bit of angst

word count: 2.126

masterlist | who i write for | requests are open!

You were looking at the clock wall and drawing the only possible conclusion: Jadon was late. I mean, he was never the most punctual person in the world, but he took his commitments as a football player very seriously. You were one of the physiotherapists at Manchester United, that's how you met. You were waiting for him for one of the physiotherapy sessions because of a bone swelling that Jadon was treating, all in order not to need surgery.

You were a little worried, not only because the physical therapy sessions had to follow a schedule to the letter, but also because you and he had something, you still couldn't label what it was, but you were fully aware that you really liked him.

You left the physio room to look for him at the Aon Training Complex, when you saw Marcus Rashford walking by, he might know where your friend and teammate was, since Jadon didn't answer your messages.

"Hey, Rash, did you..." You interrupted yourself when you saw his condition. He looked tired, hungover. "What the hell happened? It looks like a truck ran over you."

"Oh, hi, Y/N. It wasn't a truck, but I think it was something close to that." He took off his glasses and tried to smile at you. Stirring night yesterday, do you know how it is, right?

"Yeah, I know." You shook your head, you were aware that the football players' nights were not quiet at all, even more so when they all decided to go out together. "But have you seen Jadon, out and about? Something tells me he went on that eventful night."

You asked suspiciously, Jadon used to tell you when he was going out, not because you charged him, he did it of his own free will, but this time he hadn't told you anything. You knew that you two didn't owe each other explanations because you weren't official, but that didn't stop bothering you.

"Yes, he was." Marcus admitted lowering his head, no one could lie to you, and you suspected he was hiding something. "Well, I saw his car parking, so he should be here by now. I need to go now, Y/N, Rangnick will cut my balls off if I'm a little late for practice."

"Okay, Rash, thanks." You nodded and he disappeared down the hall. You went back into the room to wait for Jadon.

He showed up minutes later, you were packing up some equipment when you felt his hands hugging you from behind and kissing your neck. "How is my favorite physical therapist today?"

"Having to deal with players who don't keep to the schedule." You grumbled, but turned to face him and to let him kiss you.

"Don't punish me, I drove all the way here thinking about your hands and a good massage. I'm all sore." He replied, letting go of the bag he was carrying. He left his cell phone and car keys on the table, and you prepared the bed for him to lie on. You raised an eyebrow at him, not being able to let the opportunity pass.

"I thought last night was a good one." You spoke quietly, sitting down in the rolling chair and using it to go from one side to the other.

"What?"

"Rash said you guys went out yesterday." You explained analyzing his leg and inserting the magnetic strips of tissue into his thigh to continue the treatment.

"Oh yes, we went out, are you upset about that?"

"I didn't say I was upset." You replied, but didn't look at him, concentrating on putting the bands away.

You were silent for a few seconds. Jadon relaxed as the magnets made the pain in his leg subside, but he kept looking at you while you checked the coil. His cell phone started ringing several times taking messages, so much so that the noise of it was annoying you.

"Do you want to answer that?" You asked, the cell phone was on the table and there was no way for Jadon to pick it up, you would have to hand it to him, but he denied it.

"No, let it ring. I want you to talk to me."

"Answer that first, or at least put it on silent." You grumbled, walking over to the table where he had left the device, and it was impossible to miss. On the lock screen there were several messages from a woman saying things like "I miss you, Jad," "last night was great," and "when's the next one?". Worst of all, you knew who the woman was, an old fling that Jadon used to have.

"Do you really want to talk to me, or did you not want me to see this?" You said, tossing the cell phone to him. "You weren't planning on telling me, were you?"

"Shit, Y/N..." Jadon sat on the stretcher trying to hold your attention, but you turned your back to him, looking for anything to distract you in that room. "I thought you said you weren't upset."

"And I wasn't, but what do you want me to feel when you come in here asking me to relieve you of your pain after having fun with another girl?" You rolled your eyes at him, the pain in your stomach rising and the uneasiness taking over your body because that's what happened when the person you liked went out with someone else. "Your old flirtation still, I mean... not so old. How many times have you gone out with her, being with me? Once? Twice? Three? Several?"

"Does it matter, Y/N? We're not even official, why are you making a scene about who I still see or don't see?" You knew that your relationship was not official, but hearing him say it with the words hurt somehow. Jadon wasn't feeling well either, he would rather not have that conversation with you, but he also wouldn't admit to being scolded when he knew he hadn't done anything wrong.

"I'm not making a scene, Jadon!"

"Then what is it?"

"I just..."

"You thought we were exclusive? I don't remember us talking about it at any point, Y/N." You looked away from him, that was almost like a slap in the face. You had never settled this, so you had no right to demand anything of him. He was right, but you still felt bad. You felt like a fool.

"You're right, we didn’t talk." You agreed, because you didn't want to talk to him anymore, and started to get your things. "You were late and I have some appointments to take care of now, so I'll call Greg to finish your session."

You didn't hesitate to turn your back on him and leave the room. Part of that was a lie, but you didn't know if you could stay five more minutes alone in that room with him.

────────────

"Why did you pass Sancho's leg treatment on to me?" Greg asked you when you stopped for coffee a few days later.

"I can't work with him."

You had decided to stop talking to Jadon and stopped answering his messages. When you bumped into each other at the training center, you ignored him, and you decided to pass on his treatment to another club physical therapist, Greg.

"What happened?"

You fiddled with your coffee and looked away when you saw Jadon entering the cafeteria with Pogba and Rashford. What you two had maybe really was over and you were trying to get over it.

"You were right when you told me it wasn't good to mix work and personal life." You huffed and then sipped your coffee. You could feel Jadon's gaze on you, like it was burning your back, so you decided it was time to get out of there.

You remembered that you had a massage scheduled with Jesse Lingard in a little while, so you used that as an excuse and said goodbye to Greg. When you got to the physical therapy room, Jesse was already there, which surprised you.

"I wish everyone was punctual like you." You said, and he laughed, waiting while you tidied up and sanitized everything. You were almost finished when a noise broke from the door. A motivated Jadon walked by, walking in steady strides toward you.

"Lingard, out!" Jadon exclaimed to Jesse, but without taking his eyes off you. He was in his training outfit, even though he couldn't actually return to training on the field yet. You loved him like that, he looked incredibly handsome.

"What the hell, dude?" Jesse asked confused.

"I need to talk to Y/N."

"No you don't. Jesse, stay." Jesse looked from Jadon to you, not knowing what to do. You clenched your eyes at Jadon, he had no right to get in your way during your work.

"Please." You didn't know if his request was for you or for Jesse, but Lingard eventually gave in to his friend's request and left the room to leave you alone.

"What do you want?" you asked, crossing your arms.

"Why did you stop talking to me?" He moved closer to you, but you didn't let him touch you.

"I thought it was clear." You sighed looking at him, Jadon looked back at you, but said nothing. He didn't want to believe that he had messed things up with you. "Is that all you wanted to ask? I have a lot of work to do today, Jadon." You started to move, but he got in your way and held both sides of your face, making you face him.

"No. I missed you, I want to make things right."

"You don't need me, you have your little fling at your disposal, anytime you want it." You tried to free yourself from his hands, but Jadon held you tighter, this time by the waist.

"No, Y/N, I don't like her. I want you."

"If you really wanted me, You would have said so before." You rested your hands on his shoulders, trying to keep your bodies at a certain distance, even though you wanted to grab him. His perfume always drew you in and seemed to hold you, like a spell. "I wasn't seeing anyone else, and I thought this was something mutual."

"I'm sorry! You never gave any indication of wanting to make it official, and I was afraid to scare you." His words seemed sincere and that was what still kept you there. It hadn't crossed your mind that he too might have his insecurities. You knew it had been a long time since he had taken up serious dating for the media and all the fans, so you decided to comfort him.

"We've been at it for months, you were never going to scare me, J." You spread your hands on his chest and then moved them up to his neck, holding the back of his neck.

"I knew you as a private person, I wanted to talk about it, but I also didn't want to lose you." That made you think that you could have taken the initiative too, and suddenly it became easier to forgive him.

"Yeah, I know I can be very secretive, but I didn't want to see anyone but you, and I didn't want you to either. Maybe I should have told you too." You said, biting the inside of your cheek.

"Does that make us official?" He smiled and caught your gaze, tilting his head in your direction.

"I guess so, but..." You smiled and raised an eyebrow at him. "You didn't think I could handle being Jadon Sancho's girlfriend?"

"Well, you never really liked paparazzi chasing you." He laughed, tightening his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

"I guess I can make a sacrifice." You made a thoughtful face before leaning in to kiss him. You gave way for his tongue to easily enter after a long time without kissing those lips. Jadon's hands slid down your silhouette to your hips. You pulled your head away quickly when you remembered something. "Let Greg know you're mine again."

You said with conviction, as much as the physical therapist responsible for treating his leg, as much as your girl.

"Really? I was enjoying Greg's sessions."

"I think you'll like mine better." You said pushing him away and Jadon sat on the stretcher. You climbed onto his lap, placing one leg on either side of his thighs, without applying too much pressure.

You were kissing his neck, when Jesse appeared in the doorway, "So, can I go back to my session now?"

And this time it was you who shouted:

"Lingard, out!"

You had a few more things to settle with your, now official, boyfriend.

[stevesbestgirl]

Secrets

Bucky X f!Reader

745 Words

A/N: Week 5 of my D20 writing event, found here! The prompt was Bucky/Secret Relationship- I might write a filthy part two of this at some point because I’m intrigued by what I’ve set up here.

“Bucky?”

A smile graced your lips as Bucky’s face became clearer in the dim light, “Hey doll. Expecting someone else?”

“Never.” You smiled coyly as he wrapped his arms around you.

“What a relief,” he teased, dropping his lips to yours and stealing your breath away.

When you parted, you smirked at him, “That doesn’t make up for you being late.”

He laced his fingers through yours, pressing a kiss to your temple before you began your nightly walk, “Sorry. I had to shake Steve- he wanted to watch a movie tonight.

“Poor Steve.” You felt a little guilty, “You think he’s catching on?”

“Nah, he’s just used to me and him hanging out more.”

“He probably thinks you’re just being extra broody lately,” you teased.

Bucky scoffed, “I’m not worried about Steve. It’s Natasha we’ve got to be careful about. Why did I fall for a girl with an international spy as an ex?”

You stuck your lip out, “Because I’m so cute, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he half-smiled.

“And Steve- freaking- Rogers isn’t exactly the easiest act to follow either, you know.”

“Guess we both have a type.” He glanced at you, “You know they’re gonna find out eventually, right?”

“We’ve been careful,” you defended.

“Doll.”

“What? We have!”

“Mm. And the incident in the conference room?”

You’d been brushing your fingers over Bucky’s knee during a briefing. You were contemplating unzipping his pants right there, distracted enough that when Steve rounded the table, he managed to sneak up on you. You’d pulled away so abruptly that you’d slipped out of your chair.

“That was totally believable! Everyone knows I hate spiders.”

“And that time in your room?”

“That wasn’t my fault! Tony showed up uninvited!” You had opened your door in a robe, complete with mussed hair and a guilty expression, when Tony had come looking for some of his lab research. He’d given you a rakish wink and said he’d like to join you and your new friend sometime. Little did he know that Bucky had been just on the other side of the door, your comforter wrapped around his hips.

You raised an eyebrow, “What about your little post-workout visit?” Bucky had marched into your suite in only his gym shorts, chest slick with sweat only to find Wanda lounging on your couch. You had feigned surprise and Bucky acted embarrassed, so Wanda seemed to believe he’d just walked into the wrong room. If she suspected anything, she was keeping it to herself.

“How was I supposed to know she would stop in to visit?”

“I know we’re going to get caught eventually,” you said softly. “I just don’t want Nat or Steve to be upset.”

He squeezed your hand, “It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah poppit, it’ll be fine.” You and Bucky both froze as Natasha’s voice drifted out of the darkness, “Come on guys, don’t look so surprised.”

You cursed under your breath, “No, no, no, this is not happening.”

“I think it’s happening, doll,” Bucky murmured.

You both turned around to face Nat, who was lounging in one of the chaises on the patio, “Don’t look so surprised. You two are so obvious, even Steve noticed.”

“What-“

“Normally, I would take offense to that, but yeah, it was pretty obvious.” Steve chimed in from the seat beside her.

You were speechless; you’d imagined this scene a dozen times. You’d thought about what you would say, possible responses to anything, but now that it was actually happening, your mind was blank. Luckily, Bucky spoke up, “Have you guys been spying on us?”

Nat scoffed, “Like we needed to. You two have been staring at each other adoringly for weeks, it would be cute if it weren’t so sad that you thought you were being sneaky.”

You stared at her, “You knew this whole time?”

“Duh.”

“And you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? It makes a weird amount of sense. You totally have a type.”

“You thought we’d be mad?” Steve asked.

Your cheeks grew warm, “I don’t know! How were we supposed to know how you’d feel?”

“We want you both to be happy, you couple of dorks,” Nat said, rolling her eyes.

“Um, thanks, you guys,” you mumbled.

“And you know, if you two decide you want some company, Steve and I are around,” Nat sent you a wolfish grin and a quick wink.

Bucky scoffed, “Yeah right. I know Steve better than that.”

Steve blushed, “You’d be surprised.”

[not-a-space-alien]

Watch Your Step: Chapter 7: Domestic Expedition

I’m back baby!!! :D  PS if you want to be put on the tag list to be tagged when I post a new chapter, I am starting such a thing, so leave a comment!!

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Thanks to my beta/sensitivity reader @appelsiinilight, and to @static-stars for giving me lots of great ideas! :D

Marcy had never been so impressed with her vibrator’s battery life.  Thistle was properly mortified at what he’d found, embarrassed and expecting to be chastised for snooping around her room.  Marcy, also properly embarrassed, reassured him it was all right and showed him the device while asking him to please not touch it again.

He said OK and then immediately started curiously poking his finger into the charging port.  Marcy plugged it in to show him what it was for.  He sat mesmerized by the flashing light that indicated it was charging for a few moments, before Marcy insisted it really should be kept private and scooted it under the bed.

It was still there when Marcy woke up the next morning, brushing against her foot as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, scratching her stomach and yawning.  It was finally, finally Saturday, as close to a day off as a grad student got, and she could stop making excuses for not coming into the lab.

She sat there bumfuzzled for a moment before she went rigid and her eyes shot wide open.  “Ardo?” She frantically turned and shuffled through the covers on the bed, not finding him, worried she had rolled over and squashed him in the night.

“Good morning!”

Marcy looked over and saw him on the desk, waving happily to her. She breathed a sigh of relief and padded over.

He was sewing what appeared to be tiny booties out of the scrap fabric in the sewing kit.  He hummed with an energy she hadn’t seen him exude yet, practically bouncing. He seemed especially well-rested.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Jet!  Boanenon!”

“What are you making?”

He held them up; they were brown, vaguely shoe-shaped lumps. All things considered, a respectable effort.  “Socks. Foots hurt.”

“They’re coming out great.  Here, stand up for a second.”

Still humming, he put his project down and stood.

“Can you lift up your shirt for me?  Sucemi?”

He lifted the green fabric of his shirt up, revealing the strips of gauze still covering his injuries.  Marcy leaned in and gently unwrapped them.

The wounds on his chest and arms were looking so, so much better than they had a few days ago.  There were only a few light spots of blood on the bandages.  She cut some clean gauze and re-wrapped them, hands working with practiced gentleness she’d been getting better at.  “How’s it feeling?”

“It’s okay.  More good.”

“Turn around?”  She spun her finger in a circle.

He about-faced, showing her his back.  His half-destroyed wing looked practically the same as that first night she’d glued the grafted wing on.  With some chagrin, she suspected that part might just be permanent.

Well, if nothing else he didn’t seem to be in as much pain anymore.  She was sad to see him still struggle to fly, especially since it was obvious his soft, unsturdy feet weren’t used to the strain of being constantly used.

At least that part wasn’t her fault.  She felt so guilty for the various ways in which she’d messed things up and made his life harder, but she was convinced this was one thing she’d genuinely done well on and maybe even saved his life.

He seemed to be doing okay for the most part.  He couldn’t fly for very long sustained periods, but he could still do short bursts, and it seemed like that was all he really needed to manage being comfortable.  He didn’t complain, but she could see the impatience in his demeanor when he struggled to do something she’d imagine would have been much easier for him in the past.  Her mind wandered to the possibility of installing very, very small ramps or ladders in various parts of the house.

They sold little ladders meant for birds at the pet store. Maybe she could zip-tie a few of those together.

She shook her head.  Maybe they should worry about that later.  She was getting ahead of herself.  “Looking good.”

“Good.”  He turned back around, beaming and lowering his shirt.

“How about some breakfast?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“Okay, wait there.  I’ll be right back.”

Thistle leapt from the desk, wings flittering, and ran over to the closed door.  He put both hands on it, chattering excitedly, and looked over his shoulder at her pleadingly.

“Eseer?” she said.

“Look?  The house? Esoraj rariaru?” he said.  He patted the door.  “Please?”

“You want to explore the house?”

His head bobbed eagerly, and he patted the door.

“Okay.  Just one minute.”  She knelt down and held her hands out near him.  He pouted, but clambered up into them without complaint.

She set him up on top of the dresser.  “Stay here,” she said, pointing.  “Just a minute.  Stay.”

She looked at him for another moment before second-guessing herself, picking him back up, walking over to the desk and setting him there. “Stay.”

“It’s OK.”

Marcy walked over to the door and cracked it open.  Mochi was just outside it, and as soon as there was some space she started yelling and trying to wedge her head into it.

“Get back!” Marcy shouted, battering her away with her foot. “Back!  Back!  Beast!”

She managed to block Mochi from getting into the room long enough to get out and close the door behind her.  Mochi continued to meow sadly as Marcy walked to Colin and Teddy’s room, knocking on the door lightly.

Teddy opened the door, pajamas askew, still looking quite sleepy.  “Hm? What?”

“Ardo wants to walk around the rest of the house.  Is that okay?  And can I put Mochi in the basement?”

Behind Teddy, Colin shot up in bed.  “You can’t lock Mochi in the basement!  She didn’t do anything!”

“It’s not to punish her.  I just don’t know if it’s a good idea to leave her loose while Ardo is out and about.”

“She got along with him yesterday!” Colin protested.

“She literally picked him up with her teeth,” said Teddy. “I agree with Marcy.”  Teddy put a hand over her mouth and yawned.  “Go ahead and put Mochi in the basement, but I want to be there to supervise him and make sure he doesn’t do anything nefarious.”

Marcy wanted to argue that someone like Thistle was incapable of being nefarious.  At his size, the worst he could probably manage was mischievous.  But she didn’t push it, instead just nodding and turning around.

“Sorry, Mochi.”

Mochi was delighted to be picked up, curling on her shoulder, only to get an unpleasant surprise when she was put back down a moment later and the basement door shut in her face.

Mochi’s sad pleas faded as Marcy went back upstairs.  Colin had come out, his hair standing up in an impressive bedhead.  “Are we exploring today?”

“Yeah!” said Marcy.  “He…Well, he hasn’t really seen any of the house besides my room.”

“I can’t wait to see what he thinks of my fish tank.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Teddy came out, having changed from pajamas to sweatpants, barely an upgrade.  She tied her hair back in a ponytail.  “All right, let him out, then.”

Marcy turned the knob and pushed her bedroom door open. Thistle wasn’t on the desk.  After a moment, he appeared from between the wall and the door, crawling on his hands and knees as though he’d been standing at the door peeking out through the crack and the opening of it had pushed him down.

Marcy knelt.  “Are you good?”

Thistle dragged himself up, rising to his full five-inch height and puffing his chest out.  He looked up at Marcy seriously, then up at Teddy and Colin standing behind her.

The pangs of fear from yesterday from all three of them looking at him started to come back, especially now that he was down at their feet, really emphasizing just how much they towered over him.

But he wanted to be brave.  He stuck his hand out and looked very serious.  “Hi.”

Colin leaned down, putting a hand to his ear.  “What did you say?”

“I did say hi.”

“Speak up, little dude!  I can’t hear you.”

“Colin,” said Marcy, “come on, don’t you think it’s a little condescending to talk to him that way?”

“What way?”

“Like calling him-”

“I did say hi!”

Thistle managed to get his voice up to a normal conversation level by screaming at the top of his lungs in a cartoonish way.  Marcy burst into laughter.  She probably shouldn’t laugh, all things considered, but it was so unlike the timid and mousy way he’d been speaking up till now.

“There you go!” said Colin.

Thistle cleared his throat.

“You can’t expect him to yell like that all the time,” said Marcy.  “He’ll go hoarse.”

“Well, I guess,” said Colin.  “He can speak up a little though.  It’s not like he’s going to be too loud.”  He got down on his hands and knees, trying to get eye-level with Thistle.  “Right, little dude?  It’s okay to take up space and be loud.”

Thistle nodded nervously.

“Now what did you say?”

“I did say…hi.”  The volume was moderate this time, sustainable but much less whisper-like.

“There we go!  Hi there.”

Thistle rubbed his hands.  This was good, right?  It seemed like progress.  He still couldn’t quite figure out what the word “dude” meant, especially since Colin seemed to be the only using it.

He wasn’t used to raising his voice–Pixies typically talked very softly, especially when all together in the enclosed space of the hive. He was having a hard time adjusting to the idea that he no longer needed to shrink away, to make himself small and quiet; but rather, to be loud, to make himself seen and heard and expand into the space he now found himself in.

Maybe he could copy Colin for practice.

Marcy spoke a few sentences, and he caught the words OUTSIDE and GO and SAFE in his own language, as well as the words he knew meant “run around” and “outside” and “explore” and “cat” in Giantese.  

This was it then, the exploring he’d wanted to do.  Thistle rubbed his hands together in excitement and darted out, hugging close to the wall to keep away from Teddy’s and Colin’s feet.

“Ah ah,” said Teddy when he got close to her and Colin’s open bedroom door.  She quickly reached over and snatched the door shut.  “Nope, not there.”

Thistle sighed longingly, then instead turned his attention towards the tantalizing desk that had tempted him yesterday.  All three pairs of giants’ eyes followed him as he vaulted up onto the chair.

He stood on tiptoe and hefted himself up, planting his upper body on the drawer and using his body weight to pull it open.

He crawled into the desk.  He’d half expected it to be identical inside to Marcy’s, but that wouldn’t make much sense.  This one was messier, scraps of half-torn paper piled up next to bent paperclips and broken pencils.

“He’s trying to steal my identity!” Colin exclaimed as Thistle tugged at his checkbook curiously.

“I’m sure that’s not what he’s doing,” said Teddy. “...right?”

The checkbook fell open under Thistle’s hands.  He pulled at the check on top, examining the perforation, the numbers, the very regimented boxes and lines.

The check started to tear at the perforation.  He looked up at Colin wildly, panicked.  “Sorry!”

Colin reached out and took the check from Thistle’s hand, tearing it out with one swift motion and prompting Thistle to flutter up out of the drawer.  “Don’t worry. It’s supposed to do that, see?”

Thistle clapped.  He didn’t know what the slip of paper was for, but Pixies didn’t make use of perforation and he thought it was a delightful invention.  He reached down and ripped out a second check, using both hands to maneuver the paper almost as big as himself.

“Ah, okay, that’s enough,” said Colin.  He gently waved Thistle off and shut the drawer.  “I have to order those from the bank.”

Thistle tilted his head at Colin.  “The bank?”

“It’s where all the money is.”

“Money.”

“It’s…Well, don’t worry about it, I can’t really explain it to you.”  This was mostly because he also did not understand it.

Thistle lost interest and turned, scoping the rest of the desk for anything that looked interesting.  It was mostly just pencils and paper, which had already lost their novelty.

He stepped off the edge of the desk, onto a square box of some sort, landing lightly on it, intending to take a second hop down to the floor.

What he had just landed on was in fact Colin’s document shredder.  The safety guard was closed and the power switch was off; in fact, the machine wasn’t even plugged in.  All the same, the three humans immediately all imagined the worst possible outcome of Thistle being near the shredder, and all three lunged with an alarmed shout.

Thistle’s eyes widened and he leapt up out of the way as Marcy’s hand swiped where he had just been.  “Ah!  Sorry?”

He hovered in the air for a moment as all of them breathed a sigh of relief.  “Ah…” said Marcy.  “Don’t…uh…Don’t stand on that, okay?”

“Safe?”

“No.”

“What?  Ko?”

Marcy held her hand under him, and he drifted down into it, sitting with legs folded.  “Why don’t you show him, Colin?”

Colin plugged the shredder in, opened the safety guard, and turned the machine on.

Thistle watched in horror as the whirring metal fingers roared to life.  The sound alone would have been enough to alarm him, but he was also at the proper angle to see what the mechanics of the machine were doing.

As the seconds wore on, Thistle tearfully shuffled back in Marcy’s hands, balling up.

Colin fed the detached checks into the machine. Thistle seemed relieved to see that it had some intended use that wasn’t “fairy-crushing machine,” letting out a little Oh and chuckling nervously.

The bathroom was the only room left on this floor, which he seemed eager to reach to get away from the desk.  He’d already been in the bathroom, of course, so it wasn’t quite as interesting, but this was the first time he noticed the toilet. He quickly figured out what it was for without needing a demonstration and instantly resolved to stay as far away from it as possible.  Watching Marcy demonstrate the flushing mechanism only solidified the resolve.

Thistle jogged out of the bathroom, eyeing the stairs and deciding they looked like a lot of work, instead vaulting up onto the railing and sliding down it.  He knocked off at the bottom, falling into Mochi’s cat bed.  

The three humans came down and followed him as he got up, peeling cat hairs off himself and flicking them away.  A pile of everyone’s shoes lay by the front door, and Thistle approached a pair, standing on tip-toe to peek in.

“Look!” he said, and he clambered up and in, spreading his legs and stretching so he had one foot in each shoe, smiling like he had just made a hilarious joke.

Marcy and Colin laughed.  Teddy thought it was weird.

He rounded the corner into the dining room, bare feet slapping on the wood flooring.  Teddy corralled him away from Mochi’s food and water bowls before he had the chance to step into them, which they could all tell he was thinking of doing.

He ran for the kitchen next, excitement building as he saw the bowl of fruit sitting on the counter.  He leapt up and fell into it, eyes sparkling, hugging the biggest apple he’d ever seen.

“Oh right, breakfast,” said Marcy.  Thistle had already started to punch into the skin of the apple and take fistfuls of fruit out.

Marcy walked over to the fridge and opened it.  Thistle immediately ran over, slipping on a napkin in his eagerness to cross the counter, and peeked his head in.

He was relieved to see this one was filled with food instead of cups full of bugs.  It all seemed to be in transparent containers he wasn’t sure he could open, but the sheer amount of it was overwhelming.  He was tempted to just walk in and start swimming in it.

Marcy took out the bag of cheese cubes, setting it on the counter.  Thistle was on it immediately as though he were magnetized, pulling it over and snapping the plastic zip open.  Babbling in a pleased way, he shoved his upper body into the bag and reached for a cube of cheddar.

“He’s certainly more…active today,” said Teddy.  “Than he was yesterday, I mean.”

Thistle wiggled back out, holding a cheese cube with both hands like it was a treasure.

“I think he slept better last night than he has been,” said Marcy.  You also scared the shit out of him yesterday, she resisted adding.

Thistle sat cross-legged with the cube on his lap and dug into it. Marcy put the bag back in the fridge, worrying for the first time about whether she was feeding him a balanced diet that would be healthy in the long-run.  He hadn’t been eating much protein.

Teddy sat on a nearby stool and watched him eat, apparently thinking the same thing.  “He’s not lactose-intolerant?”

“I guess not,” said Marcy.

“I can’t imagine what he eats out in the wild.”

“Maybe fruit?  He seems to mostly have been eating carbs and vegetables.  I haven’t seen him eat any meat yet.”

Thistle was apparently finished with the cheese cube halfway through.  He left it on the counter, pushing it aside as though he intended to come back later to finish it, and leapt down, running across the floor back through the living room to finish his investigation of the house.

The only part of the house left besides the basement, which was where Mochi was confined, was the living room.  His feet fell onto the soft carpet, then onto the wood of the coffee table.  He swooped onto the TV remote, touching the rubberized keys curiously.

Colin picked it up and showed him how it turned on the TV. He seemed delighted by this.

His eyes drifted from the TV to what was next to it: the fish tank.

Thistle exploded into activity, flying over so excitedly that he stumbled over his feet on takeoff and crashed to the floor.  He righted himself, stuttering and exclaiming.

Marcy moved to help him, but he scrambled up and jumped onto the stand next to the fish tank.

Colin walked over, beaming.  “Pretty cool, right?”

Thistle’s eyes were huge.  He put his palms to the glass, pressing his nose against it.  

He had never seen fish this close before, and certainly none that were this colorful.  And there were other things too, strange hard structures like rocks but not quite rocks, waving plants made of tentacles, a strange, spongy creature with five arms sticking to the glass.

Marcy watched as Thistle bounced with excitement, gasping and tracking the fish in the tank, as well as scrutinizing the coral, anemones, and the starfish and snails sticking to the walls.

“I think he likes it,” said Teddy.

“Who wouldn’t!” said Colin.

“He’s probably never seen anything from the ocean before,” said Marcy.  “I can’t imagine how he would have.”

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, the only sounds the hum of the water filter and Thistle’s occasional tiny exclamations.

His gaze moved to the corner of the tank where a clownfish was resting behind an anemone.  He looked particularly puzzled by it, and he edged along the tank to get a better look. The clownfish darted away.

Thistle furrowed his brow and looked up at Marcy.

“What is it, buddy?” said Marcy.

“T…trapped?  Ko?” He seemed stressed out now.

“No, no, it’s okay,” said Marcy.  She knelt and put a comforting hand around him.  “They’re happy in there.  Colin takes very good care of them.”

“I love my fish,” said Colin.  “Trust me, if they were sad about anything I would fix it.”

Thistle fussed at the glass, looking between Marcy and Colin. He looked like he’d seen a ghost and didn’t have the words to convey what he was thinking.  He pointed half-heartedly at the glass.  “Trapped?” he repeated.

“No, it’s okay,” said Marcy.  “They don’t care.  They’re not trapped.”

“They kind of are,” said Teddy.

“You’re not helping!” Marcy snapped.

He seemed unconvinced, distressed gaze turning back to the tank.

“Does he not like the clownfish?” said Teddy.  “He keeps looking at it.”

Marcy suddenly realized Teddy was right.  He tiptoed around the corner to try and get another glimpse of the clownfish.  “Friend? Fish?  Trapped?  Cuioesta ko marvio?  Cuvienas inkapaj?”

“That’s just Nemo,” said Colin.  “He’s friendly, don’t worry.”

“You named it Ne–of course you did.”  Marcy rolled her eyes.  “Come on, Ardo, it’s OK.  The fish are good.  Safe. Sura.”

“Gentle?”

“Yes, gentle.”  She scooped him up, carrying him away from the fish tank.  It was disappointing that he’d been so excited about it, only to have some invisible switch flipped that made him upset by it. “But if it’s stressing you out to look at it, let’s leave it alone, then.”

Thistle peeked out of her hand to watch the fishtank until it was hidden by the wall.

Marcy set him down in the only part of the house he hadn’t seen yet: the little alcove adjacent to the basement.  Mochi could be heard complaining in a bored way on the other side of the basement door.

Thistle shuffled his feet, looking down at the ground.

“Why didn’t he like the fish tank?” said Colin, frowning. “I’m sure my setup is good.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Marcy.  “I’m sure we’ll find out once we get some more words in common. For now let’s just keep him away from it.”

She sat cross-legged behind Thistle, bumping him gently.  He turned to look at her over his shoulder.

“What’s on your mind?”

He fidgeted, then looked at the basement door.  “Cat?”

“She can’t get out.  Safe.  Door shut. Sura.”

Thistle bit his lip, thinking very hard.  Then:  “...Cat, please?”

“Oh you–you want…?”

“I told you they got along,” said Colin.  “He wants to pet her.”

Marcy sucked in a breath.  “Ah…I don’t know…”

“We’re all right here,” said Colin.  “If Mochi starts being too rough, we can pull her away.”

“I guess…”

“Mochi could hurt him very quickly, though,” said Teddy. “It would only take a second.”

“You said I was being condescending,” said Colin.  “But you’re worrying about him like you’re his mom.  He knows what he wants.”

Thistle sat against Marcy’s legs, looking dejected. Marcy hated to see his good mood ruined, especially since she didn’t understand why.  “Well…Mochi only roughed him up a little yesterday, not tried to eat him or anything…Maybe it would be okay?”

Teddy rubbed the back of her head.  “Maybe…  I mean, he wants it.”

Marcy chewed on the inside of her cheek for a minute. Then:  “Okay.  Sure, why not.  If we’re all really careful.”

Colin went over and put his hand on the knob.  Thistle roused, standing and flicking his wings in excitement.

Colin opened the door.  Mochi trotted out, swishing her tail and meowing loudly.  She looked up at Colin and Teddy, then Marcy on the floor, then Thistle.

Thistle looked like he might be second-guessing himself as Mochi came over and sniffed him intently.  Then, her tongue came out and swiped up his front.  He gave a little noise of surprise, then let out a laugh. He put his hands on her head, leaning onto her face and giving her as close to a hug as he could get.

Mochi looked a little offended and pulled back, dropping him to the floor.  He giggled and brushed himself off.

Licking herself, Mochi lay down and pretended not to be interested.  Thistle walked over and sat on her fluff, looking delighted.  He started to pull loose threads of hair out of her fur, balling them up.  “Soft. Warm.  Moaj vama”

Marcy could see him thinking about making some article of clothing out of the fur.  She reached over and stroked Mochi, dislodging more hairs, which he collected.

“Seems like they get along,” said Teddy.

“Yeah…” said Marcy, watching how happy he seemed now. “Maybe staying here won’t be so bad for him.”

Thanks for reading!  More chapters planned though idk when they’re coming :’D

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[musical-shit-show]

could have danced all night

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader Inspiration: Prompts #2 (“apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”) #14 (“when i’m not with you, it’s almost like…i can’t breathe.”) and #41 (“i may or may not have left some…marks.”) Warnings: sexual references, kissing, meddling siblings, fluffy fluff Word Count: 3,733 Author’s Note: This is my first request! Big shout out to @acmbooksandfilm​ for sending this in, I had a lot of fun writing it. Also, apologies on it taking a bit to get out, writing has gotten difficult as my real adult job has slowly turned my brain to mush. But, if you would still like to send in a request, feel free! My DMs and Askbox is always open, even though it may take a little longer to complete requests. And as always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists. Thanks for all the love on my other one shots and enjoy!

“Colin, enough,” Benedict huffed as he threw on his shiny black tailcoat, “Surely you have better things to do than pester me about my love life.” Anthony, Benedict, and Colin often crossed paths when getting ready for the numerous events of the season, and now the younger Bridgerton brother was doing everything to get on his elder sibling’s last nerve.

“I’m merely pointing out the obvious, Benedict,” Colin said smugly, straightening his cravat as he looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t help but flash a mischievous smile at his reflection, “Practically everyone in the ton knows about you two, what’s the harm in proposing?”

“What on God’s green earth are you two talking about?” Anthony strode into the room, closing the door in the likely event that Colin said something inappropriate and scandalized one of their younger sisters or, heaven forbid, their mother.

Benedict couldn’t help but flush. Yes, he was close enough with his brothers to discuss all matters surrounding women, but it felt wrong for him to talk about you. Especially when your relationship wasn’t meant to be any sort of relationship whatsoever.

It had started out innocently enough; you had been close with his younger sister Eloise and Penelope Featherington for years, acting as surrogate older sister on account of you being several years older than them. You were also friendly with Daphne and Simon Bassett, and often had tea with the pair when they weren’t off performing their duties as the Duke and Duchess of Hastings.

In truth, you knew Benedict the least out of the Bridgertons who had or were close to coming of age, and was shocked when he requested to have his name written on your dance card at the first ball of the season. When it came time to dance, you had expected Benedict to act shy at first; but after some coaxing from you, he won you over almost instantly with his wit and humor.

He only asked to dance with you once more at that particular event, not wanting to be improper. However, it was clear from the way the two of you looked at each other that there was a spark.

“No one,” Benedict said, almost too quickly, “Our brother is just sticking his nose into affairs that aren’t his own, as usual.” Anthony rolled his eyes, thoroughly unamused by his younger siblings’ bickering. The three of them strode down the stairs of their home and seized a carriage so that the conversation could continue in private.

“So…” Colin drawled, “It is an affair, then?”

“You know that’s not what I meant at all.”

“A slip of the tongue, perhaps? You know, brother, you must choose your words more carefully—"

“Mark my words, Colin Bridgerton; I will kill you in this very carriage if—”

“Will the two of you, please,” Anthony huffed, feeling a migraine coming on, “Benedict, is this about who I think it is about…?” Colin nodded fervently, but Benedict remained stone-faced. He hated keeping things from his family, especially his brothers. But he couldn’t risk tarnishing your name, not after what had transpired between you two.

It wasn’t meant to happen. When Benedict had snuck off one night to another one of Sir Granville’s soirées, he was shocked to see you there, wearing a tightly-laced corset, undergarments, and practically nothing else. As soon as you saw him, your eyes widened to the size of your mother’s best teacup saucers. Without thinking, you grabbed him and pulled him into the nearest empty room.

“Benedict, wha—what are you doing here?!” he remembered you asking him, utterly flustered. His eyes drifted to the sheer robe draped over your shoulders, the fabric floating gently with your every movement.

“I could very well ask you the same question!” he attempted to whisper, now distracted by how your corset pushed up your bosom considerably, “How do you even know about these, um, parties?” For a moment, you hesitated, unsure of what to say as Benedict’s pale blue eyes bore into yours.

You sighed, resigning to come clean, “Genevieve—Madame Delacroix—she told me about them. I confided in her about my father’s money troubles,” you felt the tears start to well up, but could not bear to cry in front of Benedict in the state you found yourself in, “I barely have any money for a dowry to find a suitable husband, and Genevieve and Sir Granville are familiar so…I work when I can and just make the guests feel comfortable—you know, offer them drinks, tobacco, the like—but I provide nothing more than hospitality.”

You felt that you needed to make that distinction to Benedict. Though you suspected that any chance with him was gone now that he had discovered your secret, you wanted to at least maintain part of your reputation, “Granville is generous enough and I could not be more grateful,” you continued, pulling the nearly translucent robe tightly around your body, “And these parties are so secretive that I thought, perhaps, I could scrounge enough money together before the end of the season before I was discovered. Clearly not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh dryly, but Benedict stared at you, his expression earnest, “You need not worry about that,” he breathed, “I won’t tell a soul.” You absentmindedly bit your bottom lip, chewing nervously on a bit of broken skin. Could he really be trusted? Yes, you had crossed paths over the last few weeks, exchanging pleasantries and the occasional flirtatious glance, but would Benedict be able to keep your secret?

“Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton,” you replied coyly, deciding that you didn’t have a choice in the matter, “Perhaps I will be able to repay you one day.” A sly smile spread across Benedict’s face, his eyes flickering to the locked door. Though the party was continuing on the other side, you two had remained virtually undisturbed.

Feeling bold, he traced his fingers over your collarbone, instantly sending a chill down your spine, “Perhaps…you could repay me now?” he posited, trying his best not to sound like a complete and utter rake, “Only if you wish to, of course.” Despite your best efforts, you could feel a palpable spark that had been building between the two of you over the past few weeks. And you had grown tired of restraining your impulses any longer.

Gently, you placed a soft kiss on his lips. Your eyes fluttered shut and Benedict cupped your face with his hand, his grip surprisingly tender. His free arm wrapped around your body smoothly, pulling you flush against him. You frantically thought through the consequences of someone discovering you with a Bridgerton, but you were too preoccupied with removing Benedict’s clothing to pay much mind…

“Benedict!” Anthony snapped his younger brother out of his reverie as the carriage slowed to a stop, “Would you get your head out of the clouds and tell me what’s going on?” Benedict stared at him, utterly panic stricken. He had kept your secret for nearly a month now, and during that time the two of you had gotten even closer, both in the eyes of the ton and after nightfall in your bedchamber.

Benedict’s mind almost drifted to the night he had shared with you only hours before, but focused on the task at hand, “You needn’t worry your pretty little head, brother,” he said coolly, “I have it all under control.” Anthony looked as if he were going to be sick, and Colin smiled with devilish glee. The three brothers clamored out of the carriage and made their way into the bustling ballroom, more of their family trailing close behind.

Benedict could hear Eloise whine as Lady Bridgerton attempted to smooth down her hair, and he felt a small pang of guilt for not coming to his sister’s aid against their mother’s incessant prodding. But now, he had more pressing matters at hand; namely, what in the hell he was going to say to you now that his brothers were onto him.

He spotted you from across the hall, his heart fluttering with every step he took in your direction. He noticed that you were wearing an intricately laced shawl that was tied tightly across your chest, completely covering your collarbone and much of your breast. Benedict felt himself frown slightly, then immediately scold himself for being improper at a society function; surely, you need not show your bosom to the entire ton in order to draw the eye of him and a number of other suitors.

You were conversing with Penelope and Lady Featherington when he finally approached you, eyes wide with fear, “Hello,” he said politely, giving a slight nod to Penelope and her mother, “Is there a spot open for my name on your card?” You quirked an eyebrow, giving him a smirk as you removed the card from your wrist.

“Why of course, Mr. Bridgerton,” you replied in an equally cordial manner. Heaven forbid Portia Featherington get a whiff of your affair; you’d be certain your name would be splashed across Lady Whistledown’s pamphlet before you’d wake the next morning, “In fact, you are the first gentleman to ask, so you may have the first dance. If you are not otherwise engaged, that is.” He shook his head and his eyes gleamed as he returned your card to your delicately gloved hand.

Despite his anxiety being astronomically high, Benedict was delighted that he was able to dance with you so early in the evening. He always thought of you as a fluid dancer, light on your feet as the two of you would glide across the ballroom. He often found himself not being able to take his eyes off you, the lively music and judgmental crowd fading away the moment he embraced you.

More importantly, he wanted to speak to you about the precarious situation you found yourselves in. It was only a matter of time until either Anthony or Colin pried the truth out of him, and he wouldn’t let the news spread across all of London society, besmirching your good name. He cared about you too much to allow such a wretched thing to happen.  

A few moments later, all of the couples were signaled that the first dance was to begin. Benedict shot a glance to Colin, who had been talking Anthony’s ear off since they arrived. Now, the two of them were staring him down, whispering like schoolboys. He refrained from scoffing and instead took your hand gently, pulling you into his tall frame as the music began.

You instantly noticed the nervous and almost pained expression splashed across Benedict’s face, and you furrowed your brow in worry. However, you decided your best course of action was to try and alleviate the tension he must’ve been feeling, “I see you haven’t taken a liking to my shawl,” you remarked, a sly smile dancing on your lips, “I will have to tell my sister she has dreadful taste.”

Benedict ripped his eyes from his brothers’ stares and produced a small chuckle at your teasing. He realized he’d much rather converse with you than worry about what Anthony and Colin were up to, “No, it’s uh—it is, quite lovely,” he countered, lowering his voice, “Though I would prefer to see more of you, of course.” You raised an eyebrow, impressed by his boldness.

“I believe you saw plenty last night, Mr. Bridgerton,” you posited, weaponizing his own name against him, “In fact, I suppose you could blame yourself for my more…conservative attire, wouldn’t you agree?”

Benedict couldn’t help but flush, but cleared his throat to attempt to keep up with your rather scandalous banter, “Yes, well…I suppose…” he stuttered, “I may or may not have left some…marks.” He spun you, watching as your dress moved gracefully around your body and fluttered behind you as you gripped his arm once more.

You searched the panicked expression on his face. Surely, he only knew you were teasing, so why did he look like he was on the brink of sickness? “Benedict, why are you acting so strange?” you asked, attempting to keep the mood light while searching for information, “You’re not falling in love with me, are you?”

Benedict swallowed, attempting to maintain his composure. Besides the looming threat of every affluent family in Mayfair uncovering your secret, he was also painfully aware of how nervous you had been making him over the past weeks. The way your smile lit up every room, the way your eyes sparkled playfully, the way your laugh made his heart do a somersault.

“It’s just as well,” you continued, not waiting for him to answer your rhetorical question, “I overheard Colin and Pen whispering earlier, and Simon and Daphne as well. Apparently, all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.” He sighed, a little relieved that you had caught onto his family’s shenanigans before he worried you unnecessarily. He couldn’t help but appreciate your perceptive nature.

“Believe me, Colin and Daphne may be my siblings, but they are not my friends right now,” he joked nervously, only half-kidding, “And Anthony is on dangerously thin ice. It appears my family can’t help but get involved in matters that do not concern them.” You giggled, causing Benedict’s heart to swell. He was growing more infatuated with you by the second.

“I wish my family cared half as much as yours does,” you say, a twinge of sadness in your voice, “They are all so wonderful, and I’m sure they are just being protective.” Benedict nodded, heartened by the kindness and understanding you were showing to his siblings. You already got along quite well with Eloise and Daphne, and you were always courteous to his mother while still being able to hold your own when conversing with Anthony or Colin.

As the dance came to an end, Benedict had begun to realize his affection for you. Not just physically; yes, your first encounter at Sir Granville’s had brought you two together faster than he had ever expected. It was reckless, intimate, and completely wonderful, but getting to know you, without dozens of uppity members of high society leering at your every move, was more valuable than any nights you had spent together.

And he decided in that moment, as your hand released from his and you both bowed respectfully, that he could not bear to spend one more day without you by his side. But he could not profess his love in front of God and everyone, least of all his family; he quickly surmised that he must wait until a moment presented itself.

You were quickly whisked away by your mother, unable to even say a proper thank you and goodbye. But as your eyes met his blue ones, you couldn’t help but notice how they were sparkling in the candlelight, and you felt a twinge of melancholy. You cared for Benedict, but feared it was only a matter of time before your affair ended and he was married to another disgustingly wealthy aristocrat. You gave him a fleeting smile before getting dragged to the other side of the ballroom.

As you turned away from him, Benedict felt two hands grasping each of his arms, one hand belonging to each of his meddling brothers, “I knew it!” Colin whisper-yelled as he and Anthony pulled their love-struck sibling into a secluded corner of the lavish hall, “You know, you really aren’t fooling anyone, Ben.”

“How do you mean?” Benedict asked nervously in one last ditch effort to conceal the truth. He shouldn’t have bothered; his brothers had seen how smitten he was with you, and soon the entire ton would be abuzz with salacious gossip if he did not make his move that very evening.

“Benedict,” Anthony chided sternly, clapping him on the shoulder, “Please, do not deny it any longer. You’re clearly bewitched.” The eldest Bridgerton child could not help but smirk; it was almost entertaining to see his usually guarded brother so obviously in love.

Benedict sighed, defeated, “Alright,” he whispered, his face flush with embarrassment, “I apologize for thinking I could ever keep a secret from you two.” Colin smirked proudly, feeling as if he were London’s greatest detective, “I’ll tell you everything if you want, but for the love of Christ, it cannot be here.” He gestured to the room, which was growing more crowded with preening mamas, hunting for the slightest whiff of a scandal.

While Benedict and his brothers searched for a private room for him to regale your escapades, your night flew by, and hours later you found yourself chatting with Daphne and Simon on the gorgeously decorated outdoor terrace. The night was perfectly temperate, and although the noise had died down significantly as many guests had departed for the evening, your head was still swimming in thought. Specifically, you were overwhelmed by the thought of Benedict.

He was quite kind to you, and a very smart, charming gentleman, but you felt your heart lurch as you recalled the intimate nights you had shared over the last few weeks. Men of Benedict’s status would not wed a tainted woman, no matter how much you wished he would. It was only a matter of time before Lady Whistledown revealed your transgressions, and you would be marked as an undesirable to the entire upper echelon of society.

You shuddered at the thought. “Chilly, dear?” Daphne asked sweetly, noticing the unsettled look on your face, “I would think you’d be more protected from the elements with that beautiful shawl on.” Your heart jumped to your throat before you could cover for yourself; Benedict had appeared on the terrace, looking absolutely petrified. Simon and Daphne exchanged glances.

“Darling,” Simon said, turning to his wife, “It is quite crisp out here, don’t you think? Perhaps we should—”

“Go inside to warm up?” Daphne finished his sentence, that unmistakably mischievous glint in her eye that all Bridgerton children possessed, “Why yes, I think that is a fantastic idea, Simon.” She hooked her arm under her husband’s, and the two of them bid you and Benedict adieu, much to your dismay. You were certain he had been found out by his family and was here to end your affair before word reached the rest of the ton.

Still, you managed to smile politely. Simon was right, there was a slight chill that pervaded the terrace, mostly due to the lack of company that had populated the space only hours before, “Hello, Benedict,” you mutter, shifting your weight from one heeled foot to the other, “Will you be departing soon or—?”

“Erm, yes,” he answered a bit too quickly, and you raised an eyebrow. His strange behavior all night was another indicator that ending things was clearly as difficult for him to initiate as it would be for you to accept, “But first, I, well, I need to tell you something. Something I probably should have told you weeks ago.”

You felt a lump in your throat almost instantaneously. ‘Here it comes,’ you thought, more distressed than you hoped you would be. Benedict took your gloved hand, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. If it were not slightly improper, you would almost find it comforting; his touch always seemed to soothe you, ever since your first night together.

“I never expected to…for us to become so close in such a short period of time,” he began, wondering at what point in this silly speech he would make a royal ass out of himself. Though he had gained a little brotherly insight from Anthony and Colin, he still felt as though he could vomit at any second, “And, well, truth be told, I have enjoyed every moment we have spent together.”

You smiled, pleased by his kind words, “Truthfully, I have felt the same,” you remarked, “But it’s quite alright, Ben, I understand—”

“You do?” he cut you off again, a bead of sweat forming on his brow, “Am I really so obvious about my affection for you?” You stared at him, confused. Was this not him ending whatever…relationship the two of you shared? Now you felt like the fool.

“Affection?” you repeated, your mouth twitching, “I thought you did not want to see me anymore.” Benedict’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but laugh dryly. You had mistaken his jittery behavior as a bad omen, when that could not be further from reality.

He shook his head, and you felt the pace of your heartbeat quicken, “My dear, I think there’s been a slight misunderstanding,” he joked, clearing his throat, “I know that our relationship has been a secret for some time, but I cannot hide how I feel for you any longer. You are kind, and witty, and strong, and incredibly adventurous, and when our dance came to an end earlier this evening, I…I felt like there was a part of me missing as soon as you left. I…when I’m not with you, it’s almost like…I can’t breathe.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, taken aback by his doting and earnest words. “And it would be my honor,” he smiled, his gaze intense and impassioned, “If I could ask for your hand.” Your eyes sparkled back at his, and you nodded silently, attempting to conceal a squeal of girlish glee. You two were still, unfortunately, in public.

“Yes,” you exhaled, feeling foolish from your assumptions about Benedict only minutes before, “I would be equally honored to be your wife, Benedict Bridgerton.” You snuck him a quick kiss on his cheek, causing him to flush for what was probably the hundredth time that night, “I see our friends were right after all, weren’t they?”

“Yes, yes they were, and I doubt I will ever hear the end of it from Anthony and Colin,” Benedict mused, smiling sweetly as the corners of his eyes crinkled happily, “I’ll see to a proper visit first thing tomorrow morning, I promise.” He studied you, doing all he could to absorb the joyous look etched upon your radiant face. You smirked, turning in the direction of your family’s carriage.

“I shall hold you to that,” you said, pulling him towards the exit, “But don’t think this night is over, Mr. Bridgerton. I’m not done with you quite yet.”

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I hope you enjoyed reading! As always I would love to hear any comments or feedback! Like/comment/reblog, all that good stuff :)

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

As It Should Be ~ Lucy x Caspian

A/N: Hello lovelies, so this is well out of my wheel house. But thanks to Shadow and Bone I am well and truly back on my Ben Barnes Bullshit. Which included re-watching the Narnia movies and then I had some feels. I'm completely ignoring the books and this is way AU but I couldn't get it out of my head. So if there's any Lucian shippers out there, this ones for you. Spoilers for the movies.

Summary: Lucy had not been ready to leave Narnia. And Caspian had not been ready for her to go. Perhaps fate still had a plan.

Characters/Pairings: Lucy Pevensie/Caspian (everyone is of age, time works funny between the realms); Edmund Pevensie, Aslan

Warnings: Fluff, a little bit of angst, pining, spoilers for the movies.

Word count: 5800 (I don't know how it happened. I just had a lot of feels)

Caspian’s voyage on the Dawn Treader had been a success on all counts. But in spite of his resolve to be a great king of Narnia and to treasure the lands and people he had been chosen to rule, the young king was sorrowful on their return journey. His crew had known better than to question him when he returned alone from Aslan’s country. Drinian put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Caspian clasped it for a moment before giving him a meaningful nod. Drinian got the Dawn Treader sailing for home while Caspian ducked below deck for just a moment to mourn the loss of his friends. When he returned, his smile was not quite so bright as it had been when the king and queen of old had been on the ship.

The crew was happy to be going home, but they also felt the loss of their companions quite acutely. It had taken no time at all for them to love Lucy and Edmund. The younger of the Kings and Queens of old were kind and hardworking and had immediately treated them as old friends. Narnia they supposed was their great love. And while Eustace had taken some extraordinary circumstances to warm up to, he too was missed, and they all found the ship far too silent with Reepicheep’s running commentary.

Their return took nearly six months as they returned all those who had been taken by the mist to their home islands. So, while the crew was joyous to be returning home after nearly two years, everyone was weary when they finally docked on the shores beneath Cair Paravel. Drinian directed the landing team, as more sailors came to help them unload. Caspian gazed up at Cair Paravel in all its glory. It had been mostly restored before he departed, but now, it was back to its true grandure, he wished Lucy and Edmund could have seen this.

He had only a moment before his advisors were upon him, welcoming him back and informing him that a feast was already being prepared for his return. They clamored for his attention, luckily with good news. They each were reporting that peace remained and things had grown even more bountiful in the past six months. Caspian listened carefully making notes on what to discuss with them tomorrow, before finally excusing himself to clean up before the feast.

After what could only be described as the most delicious meal he’d ever had, Caspian took his time reacquainting himself with the halls of his castle. During his time away, the team in charge of the interior restoration had finished all of their projects, which included the portraits of the Pevensies at the height of their rule. He inspected each one closely, trying to find the familiar features of his friends in the older faces.

For the most part he could see it. Although it was odd to see them at that age - all older than his 23 years. Well, all but Lucy. She had been just shy of 21 when they tumbled back through the wardrobe. She was the only one who never mentioned how hard it was to go from being an adult back to being an 8 year old. But he suspected that she struggled more than she let on, though she would never tell her siblings while they suffered their own distress. His thoughts lingered on the youngest of the great kings and queens. He couldn’t help but wonder if his dear friend would look the same when she reached 20 again.

Her portrait hung beside her sister’s and one could easily spot the differences. Susan held a quiet beauty, befitting her title of Gentle. But even the stillness of a portrait could not tame Lucy’s wild beauty and adventurous spirit. He knew well the twinkle of excitement the artist had captured. It was one that never failed to bring a smile to his face.

Caspian had been captivated by Lucy during their time on the Dawn Treader. More than he’d been willing to admit, even to himself. Though he suspected Edmund had seen it. He’d even expected a brotherly talk at one point, since Peter was absent. But he merely smiled, and took every opportunity to let them be together. Drinian had also made more than a few subtle comments, but Caspian had chosen to remain silent.

While the young prince had had eyes only for Susan upon their first meeting in terms of amorous intentions, Lucy’s unwavering faith and goodness had endeared her to him. When she stood across the river with only a dagger in her hand, facing down an army with a smile he could see why she of the four was the Valiant. She was amazing, even at age 11.

Her return 3 years later, had only deepened that opinion. She had matured and Caspian found himself lost in her. He’d been telling the truth when he told her that he hadn’t found a queen as beautiful as Susan, but what he left out was that there had been none as fierce as her either.

The pair had spent every possible moment together – stargazing, checking maps, telling stories. He loved her stories. Queen Lucy the Valiant had truly been a queen of her people. While her siblings had often been on the frontlines of battle, Lucy had always been protecting the people – evacuating them, learning from the healers how to dress wounds that didn’t require her cordial. She was the most beloved of the four, even in the stories Caspian had heard before he met them. Though she would refute that claim a thousand times over.

Other stories were filled with tales of dancing with fauns and dryads. Mr. Tumnus was a frequent character, and Caspian could hear the heartache in her voice when she spoke about him. He would often take the opportunity to squeeze her hand in comfort, which she also responded to with a grateful smile. Edmund would often join in, offering tales of his own or teasing Lucy.

One time in particular, he felt the need to remind her of the time a suitor had come to court and she had been so used to dancing with the fauns during their revelries that she panicked when he had offered his hand for a formal dance.

“All you could hear in the ballroom was Tristan grunting and Lucy apologizing,” Edmund chuckled.

Lucy’s cheeks flamed red and she glared at her brother for a moment, before a smirk slid across her features.

“At least I didn’t end up in a fountain after my first kiss,” she shot back.

Edmund’s cheeks tinged ever so slightly, but his expression was wistful.

“She was lovely. And it was worth it. I hope she had a good life.”

“I’m sure she did. But I’m sure she missed you.”

The siblings shared a look, regrets and memories flowing through their minds. Once again, Caspian was struck by how much life and loss these two “children” had experienced.

Later that night, after confirming their course with Drinian, Caspian was ready to retire to the barracks area for a few hours of sleep. But as he passed his quarters which he had given to Lucy, he heard humming. Moving as quietly as he could, he neared the cabin, noting the slightly ajar door. Caspian couldn’t help the smile that crossed his lips as he watched Lucy dance to her own tune as she looked in the mirror, the steps somewhat disjointed. He slipped inside, leaning against the doorjamb, making sure she couldn’t see his reflection.

“Would you like a partner?” he finally asked.

Lucy jumped at the unexpected voice, whirling as her cheeks filled with color upon realizing she’d been caught.

“Caspian! I was just… Edmund made me remember and I thought I’d practice.”

“In case we have a ball on the Dawn Treader?” he asked, grinning wildly at her.

“Of course. I’ve been to many balls on ships,” she giggled before sobering slightly. “No, but there’s dances back home. And I’ve never been, but I suspect they don’t much care for the type of dancing the fauns and dryads do.”

The mention of home twisted in Caspian’s gut, but he pushed the thought away. He would enjoy what time he had with her. Each moment was a gift.

“Well, I don’t know how they dance in your world, but it always helps to have a partner. May I?”

She nodded, uncharacteristically shy.

He snapped to attention and made a formal bow, which made her laugh but she curtsied anyway before taking his hand. He pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles, before placing her hand on his shoulder. His right hand fell to her waist, he his left clasped hers firmly.

“’Ready?”

“Absolutely?”

He wasn’t positive, but they both sounded breathless.

He began to hum, counting the beats by gently tapping his fingers against her side. He gave it a count of 8 before he began to move. It was rough at first, they were both out of practice… and nervous if he was being honest. But after a few crushed toes, they found their rhythm and soon they seemed to float. Caspian waltzed her around the room, twin smiles adorning their faces. Before they knew it, they were simply swaying in place gazing into each other’s eyes.

“I wonder if Susan is dancing like this with her naval officer,” Lucy wondered aloud, regretting it the moment it slipped past her lips. “Oh, I’m sorry, Caspian. I wasn’t thinking.”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“Don’t worry, Lucy. I’m not upset. I’m happy that your sister is moving on with her life. No one deserves to be alone.”

“But you’re alone,” Lucy pointed out.

Not cruelly, more confused by his logic.

“I’m not alone right now. I’m with you.”

And I will take that, he thought to himself. Just this moment and whatever else I get.

“Susan and I are worlds apart. In more ways than one,” he added slyly.

Lucy gazed up at him, no longer swaying at all.

“Caspian, I-“

At that moment, the ship lurched sending her crashing into his arms. It lurched again and sent them both to the floor. A storm had reached them and they heard the crew members racing about on deck. They shared one more moment before sprinting into action.

“Your majesty.”

His chief advisor’s voice jostled Caspian from his memories.

“Lord Pallburn. How can I help you?”

“You requested updates on the refugees and the five lords.”

“Of course. We shall speak on the way to my chambers.”

Caspian shot one last look at Lucy’s portrait before leading his advisor away.

Lucy sighed quietly as she watched the happy couple spin around the dance floor.

Years ago, on a ship a world away, Lucy had been held like that. Her thoughts strayed to Caspian and his near obsidian eyes. She had thought of him often in the years since. She wondered how long it had been for him.

Was he married by now?

A father?

Dead?

No.

Her heart couldn’t bear that last one. She had to believe Caspian was alive and well and happy or she wouldn’t be able to carry on.

She shook the thoughts away and returned to the view in front of her.

Susan was absolutely radiant in her wedding dress. Her smile lit up the room as Tom held her in his arms, leaning down for a peck as the song ended. They held hands as they exited the dance floor to chat with their friends.

Peter had his younger daughter, Jane, balanced on the top of his shoes as he moved them about in a decent facsimile of a waltz. Lucy smiled as she remembered her oldest brother doing the same with her when she was much younger.

Edmund was sitting with his girlfriend Margaret and their cousin Eustace laughing quite merrily.

With the exception of her cousin, Narnia had taken on the golden tint of a fond memory. But a memory none the less. Her siblings had been content to leave it at that. Lucy could not find it in her to do the same. Narnia had always felt more like home than this world. A fractured childhood would do that to you she supposed. After all she had grown up in Narnia first.

She still knew their customs and constellations better than England’s. But she knew it wasn’t just that. Her heart lay in Narnia, or rather with the King of Narnia. Caspian had a way of making Lucy feel seen when others didn’t.

“Enjoying the party, Lu?”

She nodded as she looked to Edmund who had slipped into the seat beside her.

“It’s wonderful. Everyone is having so much fun.”

“Everyone?”

“I’m having fun,” she insisted, knowing Edmund could see right through her.

“Talk to me.”

She looked again to the dance floor, eyes flitting from couple to couple.

“Do you think that I could ever find that here?”

“Love?”

Lucy nodded again.

“What makes you think you won’t?” he pressed, avoiding her question.

“I can’t imagine finding anyone to share my life with like that. There’s so much I couldn’t tell them. I don’t know how you all do it.”

Edmund hummed in response.

“Narnia meant everything to me. It made me who I am, but the only one who needs to know about it for it to be real is me. And I’m lucky enough that I got to share it with you, and Peter, Susan, and Eustace. Margaret doesn’t need to know what made me the man I am. Only that that man is someone she wants to be with.”

Lucy regarded her brother carefully for a moment. He’d clearly put a lot of thought into this and she appreciated it.

“I guess that makes sense. I guess I’m not ready to admit that Narnia is my past. Even though I have to.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“Is that the only reason you think you won’t find love here?”

Lucy knew where he was going with this, and finally she sighed – more an exhale after holding one’s breath.

“I think I loved him,” she whispered, not needing to specify who “him” was.

“Loved?” he clarified.

“Love,” Lucy corrected.

“He loves you too for what it’s worth. I could see it. Clear as the Northern Sky.”

“I don’t think it matters much. We’re worlds apart now. He’s probably married by now. I’m not sure how I managed it, but it seems I’ve left my heart in Narnia.”

Edmund wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her into his side. She leaned her head heavily against his shoulder.

“What has been lost, can be found. We just need to have faith about these things. You taught me that.”

Lucy smiled at the reassurance.

“Thank you, Edmund.”

“Anything for you. Would you like to dance? We can even pretend we’re at Tumnus’,” he offered.

Lucy shook her head, but smiled more genuinely than she had all night.

“I think I’m going to take advantage of the gardens, and get some fresh air.”

“It’s not like there isn’t air inside,” he joked making her roll her eyes.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Edmund nodded and squeezed her once more before letting her go.

“Be safe.”

Lucy slipped through the crowd unnoticed, as usual. After a few minutes walking through the gardens she happened upon the entrance to a hedge maze. Looking back at the lights of the reception, she took a deep breath and hurried into the maze, following the turns at random.

It couldn’t possibly be big enough for her to actually get lost.

Caspian perched on the rail of his balcony, one knee up as his back was pressed against the palace wall twirling Lucy’s dagger in his hand. If anyone entered his chambers they wouldn’t be able to see him unless they stepped outside. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the stone enjoying the cool breeze off the Eastern Sea. He had chosen this room specifically for the view of the water. It had always calmed him, and now it held an even more special place in his heart.

In the morning, he would return to his duties as king and this journey would leave the forefront of his mind to make room for diplomacy and logistics. And if his advisors had their way, finding a queen. But for now, as the wind whipped around him, he could imagine that he was back on the Dawn Treader. And if he listened closely enough, he could hear Lucy’s familiar humming. He allowed his mind to run wild with memories.

When the humming only grew louder, even after shaking himself from the sweet memories, Caspian grew concerned. Alert now for possible danger, he scanned the grounds for the source of the sound.

The beach was clear. As were the cliffs to the north. But as he turned his gaze to the south, a flash of auburn hair in the garden maze caught his eyes. She was deep within the heart of the garden without alerting the guards which was no easy feat.

Fastening his sword belt on, he sheathed Lucy’s dagger which she had gifted him on the shores of Aslan’s country.

“I think you’ll need this more than I will.”

“It shall never leave my side.”

You shall never leave my heart had remained unspoken.

Not wishing to alert the guards, Caspian scaled down the side of the castle, jumping from the lowest window and rolling to his feet.

The wind was carrying the humming to his ears quite clearly, as though it was actively helping him find the intruder. At the edge of the maze he took a deep breath before stepping inside. He allowed himself to be led through the turns by the voice, although he was nearly certain it must be a trap. Surely it was a siren or some spell luring him with his heart’s desire. But still he pursued her.

A few times it seemed they were just on the other side of the hedge from each other, but he would round the corner and find only a dead end.

Finally, he caught a flash of lavender fabric whooshing around the corner and he sped up as well as he could while maintaining his stealth. Lucy’s dagger fit comfortably in his hand. Peeking around the corner to ensure she was coming, he waited until she had passed by before leaping out and grabbing her, the dagger pressed against her throat.

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

She froze in his arms.

“Caspian?”

The woman squirmed in his grip enough to see his face and in his surprise he let her.

“It is you. How on Earth did you get here?” she asked.

“Lucy?” he mumbled as he released her and she turned to look at him, giving him his first good look at her.

“Yes, it’s me. I know I look a bit different. But goodness, you haven’t aged a day,”

“Lucy,” he repeated before dropping the dagger and pulling her into his arms, burying his face in her neck.

She held him just as fiercely as if he would disappear if she let go for even an instant.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured. “I thought of you every day.”

“As did I. How long has it been for you?” she asked as she lifted her head to look at him, unwilling to break their embrace any further.

“Six months and thirteen days.”

Lucy huffed out a little laugh.

“Is that all?”

Caspian already knew it had been much longer for her. Years, he guessed, given how much she looked like her portrait.

“How long?”

“Six years. Four months. Eleven days.”

She’d been counting. In spite of knowing that Aslan’s plans for Narnia did not include her.

“Oh, Lucy,” Caspian sighed.

Years. She had thought of him every day for years. The knowledge made his heart beat faster.

“It’s okay. You’re here now. How on Earth are you here?” she asked again.

Caspian glanced upward, just to ensure he hadn’t been transported to her world, but sure enough his stars remained, twinkling down at him.

“Lucy, you’re in Narnia.”

Whipping her head around to gain bearings she didn’t know she’d lost, Lucy’s expression clouded with confusion.

“But how? I was at the wedding. I just stepped out for a few minutes –“ She paused and shook her head with a serene smile. “Things never happen the same twice,” she murmured. “Or four times I suppose. I’m not sure how it’s happened, but I am glad to be home.”

Caspian’s heart both clenched and soared at the word home. But he was still stuck on the earlier revelation.

“You were at a wedding?”

His mind raced as he took in her demure dress and artful curls.

Six years, his mind screamed. Even if she had thought of him, of course she would have found someone else in that time.

“Yes,” she affirmed absent-mindedly. “Of Susan will be so cross I’ve left her wedding.”

Elation.

“Susan’s wedding?”

“Yes.” Lucy’s face dropped. “Oh, I’m sorry, Caspian.”

“So you are not married?” he asked, ignoring the apology.

Lucy’s laughter was a balm to his soul.

“Goodness, no. Not even close. The closest I’ve come to marriage was holding hands with Dennis Macmillian when we were 17. And even that was mainly because I was slipping on the ice. I’ve never even gone for a stroll with a boy.”

Caspian smiled, pulling back just enough to offer her his arm.

“Well then, please, allow me. It would be a shame to waste such a lovely Narnian evening.”

“So it would,” she agreed, looping her arms through his. “Tell me everything I’ve missed,” she insisted as they walked deeper into the maze.

“There’s not that much to tell you. We’ve only just arrived back to Cair Paravel this morning. It took us several months to return everyone to their homes before we could return. Beyond that, I’ve just received reports of peace in Narnia.”

“That’s wonderful, Caspian.”

“I’m sure your time has been far more interesting. Tell me everything.”

“Longer doesn’t always mean more interesting.”

Caspian shot her a look of disbelief.

“I’m telling the truth. After the Dawn Treader we stayed with Eustace until the end of the War. After that, once Susan, Peter, and our parents returned, I went back to school. I learned how to become a nurse.”

“Did you now?”

“Mhmm. Top of my class even. It’s been fascinating to learn, although I still think the healers here have a better bedside manner. And goodness have there been days where I wished for my cordial on the job.”

“It sounds intense.”

“It is. But I love it.”

Her smile confirmed it.

“It suits you,” he agreed.

“Besides all that, not much has changed for me. I spend most of my time working or with my family, though that’s been difficult of late.”

“Difficult? Why?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

“They’ve all become convinced I’m doomed to become an old maid. Well, not everyone I suppose. Mainly my parents and Susan. Peter would prefer it that way, over protective as he is. And Edmund, well he just wants me to be happy.”

Despite her comments, the fondness she had for her siblings still shone through.

“I’m sure they all want you to be happy.”

“I know that. I just wish they wouldn’t keep trying to set me up. I think falling in love should happen naturally.”

She glanced up at Caspian who was watching her closely.

“As do I. So it sounds to me that you’re turning suitors down left and right.”

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “Although I think Susan believes that she’ll have a better chance at marrying me off now that she’s officially taken. They’ll have to settle for the lesser Pevensie sister.”

Caspian narrowed his eyes at the assertion, footsteps coming to a halt as he turned to face her.

“In what way lesser?”

“In every way,” Lucy laughed humorlessly.

“You are Queen Lucy the Valiant. The most beloved Queen Narnia has ever seen,” he reminded her, continuing on before she could argue with him. “You are amazing. You are in no way lesser.”

His words made her smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“That may be who I am here. But in my world, I’m just Peter and Susan’s little sister. An afterthought.”

Caspian hated to hear her talk about herself like that.

“Then everyone in your world must be fools. You are valiant and beautiful in every world.”

Lucy found herself unable to hold his intense gaze.

“I’m not beautiful like Susan.”

He lifted her head up with a finger underneath her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Perhaps not. But you’re beautiful like you. And brave. And kind. And loving. And a million other wonderful things.”

“No one’s ever seen me the way you do.”

“It’s an honor to know you this way, Lucy.”

He reached up cradling her cheek before sliding his fingers into her hair.

“I love you.”

It was a relief to finally say it out loud, and her smile was well worth it.

“I love you too, Caspian. I have for a long time.”

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against hers.

“I was so scared I’d never see you again,” she whispered.

“I was too. I was certain that I’d lost my chance. But you’re here now.”

“I am.” She looked around and somehow he knew she was looking for Aslan. “But I still don’t know why.”

“I’m sure Aslan has his reasons.”

“He usually does,” Lucy agreed with a smile. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out in time. For now…”

“For now, I’m just going to be grateful. And enjoy every second of my time with you.”

“I like that plan.”

They walked through the gardens for a time before Caspian escorted her up to the castle.

Sure enough they spent the next few weeks enjoying their time together. In fact the entire kingdom rejoiced at the return of their queen. But with no indication as to why she was there, soon a quiet anxiety crept in.

Neither Lucy nor Caspian were willing to make too many plans when they didn’t know when she would be returning, so instead they focused on ensuring Narnia was well taken care of. Lucy helped Caspian reinstate the High Council so that every type of creature was represented. Caspian watched in awe as the land flourished and now that everyone had a voice they found it even easier to keep peace. In fact, many days it seemed there wasn’t much ruling to do at all. So he spent more time with his people than ever, which he loved.

And he grew to love Lucy more every day. He knew at some point that she would have to leave, to return to her family, but he also knew that he couldn’t bear to be without her. His decision was made, although he was sure that many would consider it selfish.

Which is why a year after she arrived, Caspian led Lucy into the maze he had found her in.

“This is quite lovely. We haven’t done this in a while. What brought this on?” she asked as they walked.

“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. And I have a question for you. And I thought this would be the best place to ask it.”

She tilted her head in question, noting the slight nervousness in his voice.

“What kind of question?”

“An important one.”

They had reached the center of the maze and Caspian led Lucy to sit on the edge of the fountain that contained a stone carving of Aslan. He hoped it would bring them the Great Lion’s blessing.

He took both her hands in his as he sat beside her on the edge of the fountain.

“Lucy, my love, ever since I first met you, you have been a source of strength and someone who I have never failed to believe in. On our first adventure I learned never to overlook you, and I am eternally grateful for learning that lesson. Because it allowed me to see you for who you are on our second adventure. On the Dawn Treader, I fell in love with you. And the day I had to say goodbye to you it felt as if my heart would never be whole again. But by the grace of Aslan, you were returned to me. And I have spent the past year falling more and more in love with you. I’m not sure how long we have left in Narnia, but I don’t want to waste another moment without asking you to be my wife.”

She gasped as Caspian shifted down onto one knee.

“There is no other I would bind myself to. I love you, Lucy Pevensie. And my only wish is to have you by my side for as long as you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

“Of course.”

She tackled Caspian to the ground in a very unladylike move, and kissed him soundly.

“Of course I’ll marry you.”

Caspian’s smile was brilliant as he reached up to cradle her face before pulling her down for another kiss. They reveled in their new engagement alone for a while longer before deciding to return to the castle.

They were nearly out of the maze when they saw a flash of golden fur.

“Aslan?”

Lucy took off after the lion and Caspian was right on her heels. He couldn’t help but wonder at the timing.

They made it back to the fountain and found the lion himself in front of his stone counterpart.

“Aslan, it is you.”

Lucy launched herself at him, burying her face in his fur.

“Hello, dear one.” It came out in a deep rumbling laugh.

Caspian knelt before Aslan, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“Rise, King Caspian.”

“Aslan, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to talk to you about your future, dear one.”

Caspian felt unease coil in his stomach.

“My future here or…?”

Lucy took a step back to stand next to Caspian taking his hand in hers.

“That is your decision to make, Lucy. Your heart longed for Narnia when you returned home. You had not been ready to leave it behind. Is that still true?”

She looked to her betrothed and considered her words carefully.

“I could leave Narnia. But I cannot leave my heart. I cannot leave Caspian. Not again.”

Aslan turned his massive head towards the king – looking at him expectantly.

“Caspian?”

The king lifted Lucy’s hand to kiss her knuckles, looking to her as he answered.

“Narnia was the only home I ever knew. But Lucy is the only home I will ever need. I would leave Narnia if she wished me to. If you would allow it,” he added as he finally turned to face Aslan.

“Caspian?” Lucy gasped at him.

Aslan seemed to nod so Caspian continued, looking back to his love.

“Lucy, in the past year we’ve changed Narnia. It is ruled by its people. As it should be. They don’t need a king. But I need you.”

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, but there was no mistaking her smile.

“Are you sure?”

“I am,” he assured her.

Lucy kissed him for a moment, before turning to Aslan.

“Aslan, is it possible?”

He huffed a laugh and nodded with a shake of his mane.

“Yes, dear one. It is possible. All is as it should be with Narnia thanks to you. But you both must be sure.”

They shared a look before turning back to Aslan.

“We’re sure,” they said in unison.

“But we must not abandon Narnia this time,” Lucy insisted. “I want to say goodbye properly.”

“Of course. You two can stay as long as you like, you have earned that. When you are ready return to this fountain and take the path behind it.”

They both peeked around as the hedge directly behind Aslan’s statue opened up. If she listened closely Lucy could hear the music of the reception.

“You’ll be returned to when you left,” Aslan answered her unspoken question.

Lucy hugged him again and Caspian joined in this time.

“Thank you, Aslan.”

“Thank you, for all you have done for Narnia. It is better for knowing you, dear heart.”

Lucy and Caspian were married after six months on the day before they stepped down and allowed the high council full rule over Narnia. Surprisingly, no one begrudged them their decision. Narnia was happy and they saw that they could rule themselves and be their own heroes.

Two years to the day after Lucy arrived, they said their final goodbyes to the land that had given them so many gifts, the dearest of which was each other.

Hand in hand they entered the maze and followed the turns to the center. With one last look at the great stone lion, they walked through the hedge behind him, coming out into a dark night. Lucy was once again in her lavender bridesmaid dress. Luckily she had had the foresight to have a suit made for Caspian so he would blend in.

“Shall we?” she asked, excited to see her family after so long. Well so long for her. Just moments for them.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t just wait here until after the wedding? How are we going to explain me just turning up?” Caspian asked, daunted by the new world around him.

It was louder than Narnia, and undeniably strange. Lucy cupped his cheek, and kissed him.

“The evening is nearly over. The others will want to see you. You were at the other party and we ran into each other in the garden. You’re an old friend from our time with the professor. And I insisted that you come say hello and congratulate Susan in person.”

“You’ve thought about this,” he teased, considering the plan in his head.

“Of course. It was the first thing I thought when you threatened me with my own dagger,” she reminded him with a mocking look.

“Oh really?” Caspian chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Yes. Right after ‘he’s here. Maybe I get to be loved after all’.”

“You are so loved, my valiant Lucy. And I shall love you forever. In every world.”

She smiled up at him, blissfully happy.

“And I you, Caspian.”

They shared one more kiss before walking hand in hand back to reception. Everything was as it should be.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. I've got loads of Ben Barnes feels lately and this is how I'm dealing with it lol. Thanks for reading!

[restlessfandoming]

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 3) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2]

hello sorry for the wait my brain just be straight up farting sometimes

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

the president and the troublemaker (part 3)

When Lumine woke up, she was back in her bed at home, with Aether taking a damp towel off her head. The morning sunlight shined in through the window. 

“Did I sleep through the entire night?” Lumine asked, her voice hoarse. 

Aether hummed out a ‘yes.’ “I think your body was absolutely exhausted.” He sighed sitting down next to the bed. “Sis, you have to stop overworking yourself; I worry—we all worry.”

She gave a small nod. “I know. And I’m sorry.” 

“Just take the day off to relax, okay? I promise the whole world isn’t going to blow up.” He stood up. “Also, mind telling me why Childe of all people brought you back here?” he asked, eyeing Lumine’s hands. 

She hadn’t even realized it; her hands were set atop a red scarf—Childe’s red scarf—and only then did she vaguely remember him wrapping it around her as he carried her home. Clutching it, she answered, “About that...he may or may not have found out I’m Outlander.” 

Aether’s eyes widened. “He found out? And he didn’t tell the whole school?” 

“I’m surprised as well. He actually seems...nicer ever since he found out.”

“Maybe he’s trying to mooch off your earnings. Or blackmail you.”

“See, I thought that too, but he hasn’t done any of those things.” She gripped the scarf again. “In fact, he offered to be my coach.”

“Your coach? What, he does the underground fighting too?”

Lumine shrugged. “I don’t know. Apparently he has ‘connections.’”

“Are you going to accept?”

She looked out the window. “I told him, ‘no.’”

Aether silently regarded her, looking like he wanted to say something, but then shook his head. “Well, remember to relax today. Your work has been taken care of, so just take it easy, okay?”

He left the room, and Lumine turned onto her side, eyes cast out the window. Without thinking, she brought Childe’s scarf up to her nose, breathing in. She was caught off guard as the scent of salty beach shores filled her senses. 

Her face flushed and she thought, How do I even pay him back?

* * *

Lumine pushed open the door to the school’s rooftop, taking in a breath of the gentle breeze floating by. Sitting near the edge of the roof was Childe, his orange hair ruffling slightly in the wind. Lumine took a moment to observe him; he looked so serene, and suddenly Xiangling’s words intruded into her mind: He’s so handsome. 

“So, Pres, did you call me up here just to stare at me, or did you actually want something?” he asked, not even turning towards her.

Lumine felt a vein pop out on her forehead, and she proceeded to stomp towards him. “I was not staring,” she argued. “Here.” She harshly held out a little paper bag which contained Childe’s red scarf. 

His eyebrow raised an inch, and he took the bag. “You could have just left this in my locker, you know?” 

“Why do you have to make everything I do so difficult?” 

A chuckle. “I’m just teasing you, Pres. Thank you for returning it.” 

She gave him a stiff nod, then sat down next to him. “I...I also wanted to say thank you. For helping me.”

Childe tilted his head, regarding her curiously. 

Before he could say anything, she continued, gazing out at the city. “And thank you for not telling anyone. I don’t know why, but really—thank you for not saying anything.” 

From the corner of her eye, she saw his lips turn upwards in a small smile. “Of course. Wouldn’t want anyone else enjoying our little secret, now would I?” 

“This is fun to you?” she grumbled. 

“Very much so.” 

Lumine sighed. “Anyways, I don’t like to be indebted to people, and I couldn’t think of a way to pay you back—so please think of something.”

“In that case…,” he said almost instantaneously.

“You already have something in mind?”

He leaned towards her. “Let me be your coach.” 

...

...Of course he would say that. 

* * *

“And you’re sure Childe is trustworthy?” Aether asked Lumine as they walked through the bustling city of Snezhnaya, located in the next city over from their hometown of Mondstadt. 

Lumine readjusted the strap of her gym bag on her shoulder. “I mean...he hasn’t said anything yet, right? And anyways,” she muttered, “I owe him for saving me.” 

Aether frowned, crossing his arms. “I guess you’re right…It’s just...He’s been a constant pain in your ass for the better part of your council career, and now he just suddenly wants to be your best friend?” 

“He’s not going to be my best friend. Maybe he just felt sorry that I have to do all this for the sake of money, so he’s helping us out,” Lumine tried to reason. “If he’s my coach, we’ll get better conditions and pay.” 

Her twin nodded, looking around at the modern, high-rise buildings surrounding them. “Snezhnaya is really a rich city, isn’t it?” 

“I guess that’s a good sign.” Lumine stopped in front of a building labeled “Zapolyarny Palace.” She glanced down at the business card Childe had given her. “I think this is it: the gym he told me to go to.” 

The two of them took in the building before them: a gym with large windows through which they could see many members training intensely within. The building itself was made of sleek, silver materials, making the gym look like a glittering gem in the sunlight. Definitely an upgrade from the concrete basement of Kaeya’s establishment. 

Lumine was first to climb the steps, Aether following closely behind her. She pushed open the heavy glass doors, and immediately noticed everyone inside watching her from the corner of their eyes. 

“Lumi, these are some real scary looking people,” her twin whispered. 

She nodded, but continued walking forward to the front desk. The receptionist looked up at her; her name tag read Ekaterina. 

“How can I help you?” she asked. Her tone wasn’t friendly, but Lumine suspected that was the nicest the woman would sound. 

“I was told to come here by a friend,” Lumine answered. “By, uhm, Tartaglia?” 

Ekaterina looked her up and down, then stood. “Follow me.” 

The three of them walked through the gym, heels clicking against the dark slate flooring. The gym was huge, all of the high-tech equipment greatly spaced out, machines Lumine hadn’t ever seen before. 

The group made their way towards a boxing ring, elevated off the ground, and even from far away, Lumine could tell it was made from very expensive materials. 

“Tartaglia is up ahead,” Ekaterina said, gesturing towards the boxing ring, then went back to her desk.

Currently, there were two people sparring in the ring. To her surprise, Lumine recognized them both. 

“Is that...Kaeya? And Childe?” Aether asked.  

Lumine didn’t even answer, finding herself speeding up to get closer and watch the fight. 

She had only heard of Kaeya fighting from others in his arena, and that he was a fierce opponent due to his training in the military where he had actually been a high ranking captain. Childe, on the other hand, she had only seen in schoolyard scuffles, and never as an actual fighter in the ring. She was mesmerized by the two. 

Kaeya’s moves were very sharp and sneaky, while Childe’s style was lighter and much faster—until he struck, which he did so with great force, like the sudden crashing of a powerful ocean wave. Despite the huge gap in years of experience, it seemed like Childe actually had the upper hand in the fight. 

Childe threw a jab at Kaeya’s face, which the captain easily blocked. But then, Childe quickly switched his footing, twisting his body around to prep for a spinning heel kick to Kaeya’s unprotected side. As he turned, Lumine made eye contact with him for a split second. 

His foot would have slammed into Kaeya’s face, but suddenly, Childe stopped short, his leg still in the air, foot hovering right by Kaeya’s face, who regarded the near hit with wide eyes. Stopping a powerful kick like that took a lot of strength, Lumine knew, and she could see it in the way the muscles were flexed in Childe’s leg. 

“It was fun, captain, but it seems our guest is here,” Childe said, relaxing his leg and setting it down. 

Kaeya let out a shaky laugh. “It was indeed fun. Though, it seems like I need to get back into proper shape; it’s been a while.” 

Childe ducked under the ropes, sliding out onto the ground. “I look forward to that rematch then.” He picked up his water bottle and looked at Lumine. “You made it! Good job not getting lost.” 

As he drank his water, Lumine couldn’t help but look him over, at his exceptionally well-toned body. Usually his long limbs were covered by their school uniforms, but now he wore a gray tank top with gray sports shorts. It didn’t help that he was practically glistening in sweat. 

She cleared her throat. “So can you tell me why Kaeya is here?”

Her manager walked up to them, offering his signature smile. “Why wouldn’t I follow my dear Lumine to the next step in her career?” 

“I invited him,” Childe said. “I figured you’d want to keep him around.” 

He wasn’t wrong; it was nice that Kaeya was there as another familiar face. She wasn’t really sure what to expect from Childe now.

“I see you brought a guest as well,” Childe noted, his blue eyes on Aether. 

Aether subtly put his hands on his hips, defensively. “I’m Aether. Her twin.” 

The ginger tilted his head. “Ah, the Vice-President. How cute.” 

“Okay, so you’re my coach,” Lumine said. “Now what?” 

He held out his hand. “Where’s your Outlander mask?”

Lumine blinked at him, but then pulled the mask out, handing it over. He flipped it over in his hands, then chucked it behind him. Both her and Aether gasped. 

“You won’t need it anymore,” Childe said. 

Lumine glared at him. “What do you mean, I won’t need it anymore?” 

“Are you trying to get her arrested?” Aether spat. 

Childe held up his hands. “Relax. The reason I wanted you to join me is because we’re no longer going to have you fighting illegally. So no need for the mask.”

Kaeya nodded. “Yup. We’re bringing you into the world of legitimacy.” 

Lumine crossed her arms. “Kaeya, you know the reason I came to you in the first place. You get me way more money, much faster, than any legitimate competition. Especially at the beginner levels.” 

“And that’s why you’re here now,” Childe interjected. “Fighting here will give you even more money without having to worry about the cops busting in and arresting you one day.” 

“What if people from school find out?”

“No one from our school is going to come here to Snezhaya, much less to a gym.” 

Lumine and Childe stared at each other, unyielding. 

“Excuse us,” Kaeya said, pulling Lumine and Aether away from Childe. 

“Kaeya, you know it’s dangerous for her not to be in a disguise,” Aether hissed. 

“It was dangerous when she was fighting in my arena,” Kaeya said. He put a hand on Lumine’s shoulder. “Look, Childe is trying to help you, not hurt you. He knows you need that money, and that you’re good at this. He, like the rest of us, doesn’t want to see you get arrested for just trying to help your family out.” 

Lumine bit her lip. “What makes him so qualified though?” She turned towards Kaeya. “You guys are always talking about his ‘connections,’ but you haven’t really talked about who he is in this community.” 

“All you have to know is that, despite you guys being close in age, he is a known professional in this field. He’s fought and won many competitions.” He sighed. “I mean you saw him earlier: he almost handed my ass to me in that little spar. And I was a captain in the military.”

Aether sighed as well. “Lumi...as much as I dislike Childe...I think they’re right. I’ve always worried about you in those illegal fights. You’ll be safer here.”

As scary as it was that she was no longer concealing her identity, a part of her relished at the freedom. And they were all right. It was safer here, down this road. 

Lumine nodded before leading them back to Childe. She stood in front of him, arms crossed. “When do we start?”

* * *

[part 4]

[jeannereames]

1) I think it was Plutarch’s account, that after Hephaistion’s and Krateros’s famous clash, Alexander eventually reconciles them by telling them he loved them most of all men. Will you be expanding on Alexander’s and Krateros’s relationship in your future DwtL books? I remember you briefly touched upon them in Rise. Or like, is there any historical evidence that elucidates what their dynamic was like beyond/including the whole philobasileus thing?

Who Was Krateros (and what will I do with him in DwtL)?

I’ve always found it curious that, in most novels about Alexander’s conquests, Krateros tends to be a distant secondary character in contrast to others around Alexander, especially Ptolemy—despite the fact Krateros was more powerful than Ptolemy, and powerful at an earlier date.

I suspect it owes to the fact Ptolemy went on to found a dynasty and write a history. Modern writers feel as if they know him better. By contrast, Krateros died just two years after Alexander. So although he tends to have a better reputation among modern historians (which, I think, is not well-deserved), he’s never really received thorough treatment in much the same way (and for much the same reason) as Hephaistion.

He died too soon to become a major player among the Diadochi. But that means the people we know best from the era of the Diadochi were NOT the most prominent men at Alexander’s court. So don’t be surprised when Krateros pops up as an important secondary figure in the series with a more conspicuous role than Seleukos, or Antipatros, or Antigonos, who all long outlived him.

In part, that importance owes to Hephaistion’s role as protagonist. If pressed to name the chief protagonist of Dancing with the Lion, Alexandros or Hephaistion…it’s Hephaistion.

I don’t want to go into too much detail about future plots and spoil it—but if Krateros winds up Hephaistion’s bête noire, he doesn’t start that way. The details of their falling out is a driving point of the Long Plot (e.g., the plot across books, part of the overall tragedy of Alexander’s story). I’ll just say that, when I first saw Hamilton, the Musical, a lot of the Hamilton-Burr dynamic resonated because it reminded me of my vision of Hephaistion and Krateros.

Don’t overextend that, but it gives a general idea.

We have some hints that suggest, at least at first, Hephaistion and Krateros weren’t enemies. They may not have been bosom buddies, but I don’t think they were enemies.

I have a clear personal view of each man, based on the historical texts. Hephaistion’s personality I laid out in the first two novels. He can be touchy about his honor and how he’s viewed, and is 110% loyal to Alexander, but not a suck-up. The two just generally see things the same way, and will continue to do so (except in matters of religion, which does come to a head in one particular event I’ll not spoil). Yet in how to run the empire and how to Persianize the court, they’re on the same page and Hephaistion is deeply involved in court procedural renovations. This accords with what the sources tell us. Hephaistion followed Alexander in the changes, which is typical of how ancient sources would present it. Me, I’d argue he didn’t just “follow,” he helped Alexander come up with it. He understood the problem/hurdle as Alexander did and was a party to the solution of blending the two courts.

My Hephaistion is proud, and wants to be recognized for his contributions and ideas. He resents it when anybody suggests he’s just a “yes-man.” And no, that’s not because they were/are lovers. It’s because sycophancy is an easy way to insult your rival. 😉Nothing makes him angrier than being called a “flatterer.” His friendship with Alexander will go through highs and lows (because that’s human), but he remains mostly certain of his place at Alexandros’s right hand. That doesn’t mean he won’t get jealous, because he definitely has a jealous bone (which I think I pretty clearly established in Rise). Yet as time goes on, he settles down and his clashes with others stem from a failure by those others to recognize his place. Yet he understands his place—and ambitions—differently. He can act jealous and touchy, but not for expected reasons. My Hephaistion (and I stress this is not the historical person) just isn’t that interested in commanding others or occupying high office for itself. The kleos of it: glory He wants to help Alexandros make his new empire work, and gets really impatient with all the other “idiots” who can’t see what needs to be done to achieve that. He has ambition, but it’s north/north-west of typical.

Krateros is also pretty clear in my head, both as a fictional character but also how I think he was historically. He, too, is a deeply ambitious, and very capable. My fictional Krateros’s vicious ambition stems from being the “poor cousin” to Perdikkas and the Orestian royal house, needing to prove his place, not just get it as a right of birth—although he also gets it as a right of birth because he is not a commoner. In short, he has the resentment and envy of second-tier gentry, but the drive to succeed in Philip’s (and then Alexander’s) army where ability is recognized too. (I’d note that, after ATG’s death, Krateros [along with Ptolemy] joined Antigonos’s rebellion against Perdikkas as regent of the kings…which is why he died in battle fighting Eumenes, who was on Perdikkas’s side. Yet this is notable because he was almost certainly from Orestes…and thus, related to Perdikkas. We can debate who was higher born, but I think it was Perdikkas.)

Anyway, Alexandros recognizes both his ability and sympathizes with his drive to succeed because it’s similar to his own: the need to prove himself to his father, as prince.

That’s the fictional background of my Krateros, but the historical man was good at what he did, and knew it, and expected to be recognized for it among his peers: to stand first among them. Ergo, he was viciously competitive to rivals, but charming and charismatic otherwise.

How does that work? To those well above him in the power structure, he’s respectful and seeks their approval in order to receive advancement. So, for instance, he’s devoted to the kings (Philip, then Alexander) because they are Givers of Good Things (promotions, land, loot). He would have been a young officer under Philip, making him roughly the age of Ptolemy, Philotas, Nikanor, Koenos…maybe Kleitos (although I think Kleitos was a bit older), just as Leonnatos, Perdikkas, Seleukos and Hephaistion were coevals of Alexander.

So he couldn’t and wouldn’t challenge the “old men”: Parmenion, Antigonos Monophthalmos, Antipatros, etc. He even seems to have been an understudy to Parmenion. For instance, at Issos, he was in charge not just of his brigade but the whole left wing under Parmenion’s general command. He wanted to impress Parmenion and earn his support—not antagonize him.

Likewise, he had no reason to lord it over his infantry battalion, who would have been no threat to his ambitions. He needed them, in fact. By being chummy with them, he was far more likely to secure their loyalty—not unlike Caesar later.

It was those men who were rivals for positions he wanted who drew his special ire. Krateros would never get Parmenion’s spot while the old man lived, but Parmenion was old. Krateros could wait. After Issos, I expect Krateros saw himself as Parmenion’s natural successor. Yet Krateros was also unlikely to get Parmenion’s spot as long as Philotas lived. If we have only a sketchy idea of ranking order in the army, the whole Philotas Affair tells us/suggests the position of commander of the Companion Cavalry was the #2 position after Parmenion’s slot as viceroy to Alexander. Krateros may have served under Parmenion in charge of the army left side at Issos…but Philotas was still above him in the food chain.

Nikanor (Parmenion’s middle son) may also have been a hurdle, as commander of the Regular Hypaspists (as opposed to Royal Hypaspists), but he was younger than Philotas. Thus, Krateros would have started by removing Philotas, only worrying about Nikanor after—and as it turned out, Nikanor died of disease in late 330, deleting himself from the picture.

Our histories seem united on Philotas as arrogant and pushing his place: an obnoxious little brat, if also a perfectly capable commander. Ergo, Philotas provided Krateros with the perfect target, one unlikely to have staunch defenders.

So Krateros systematically went after him as early as the Egyptian sojourn, and possibly even earlier. Plutarch doesn’t always get things right, so we must be cautious about this, and Badian wanted to make the spying of Krateros part of Alexander’s big conspiracy against Parmenion’s family. Not at all. I think it was Krateros’s attempt to target the man he saw as chief rival.

At that point, Krateros would have regarded Alexander’s cohort as “the boys.” They didn’t have major offices, although were rising to some key junior commands. For instance, Hephaistion apparently commanded the “agema” (later term but good enough for this) of the Hypaspists. That’s the king’s own unit, who acted as his personal bodyguard in battle and actually ran with the cavalry squadron (!, yes in full armor). They would have been composed almost entirely of aristocratic young men: e.g., former Pages. So that’s a plum command for Hephaistion…but he didn’t command a whole SECTION of the army, like Philotas and the Companions.

Hephaistion, Leonnatos, Perdikkas, Seleukos…they weren’t a threat to Krateros. He could be friendly to them, may even have cultivated Hephaistion especially, for his unique access to the king. You may be thinking, Man, he sounds like a user! Well, yes. That’s how the Macedonian court functioned, although I think Krateros was more ruthless, and successful, than most.

Then he got an unexpected gift-horse: the Dimnos Conspiracy and Philotas’s casual (and deeply stupid) dismissal of the warning about it. Krateros went right for the jugular.

I want to make a point that I also made in “Crisis and Opportunity: the Philotas Affair…again.” We absolutely must resist looking backwards from the outcome to ascertain motives. When the scared Pages finally approached Ptolemy, who then went to Alexander and the other Friends, NOBODY knew what the outcome would be. It was not planned. It really was a crisis.

Yet Krateros saw opportunity in the crisis, and as a successful field commander, ran with it. So I see him, not Hephaistion, as the architect of the accusation against Philotas. HE had the most to gain (he thought), and if Plutarch can be believed in this, it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to bring Philotas’s snarky words and bad behavior to Alexander. As alluded to above, he’d paid Philotas’s mistress to report to him what Philotas said during “pillow talk” as early as Egypt. Now it could be (and quite probably was) that he saw Philotas’s bragging and claims to victories as a real threat to the king. (Kinda like shadow presidents in Mar-a-Lago.) People can have more than one motivation. They can even have a “good” motivation (protecting Alexander’s pride and reputation) alongside a “bad” motivation (making Alexander resentful of Philotas). Alexander’s pride was touchy too. 😉 Even if he blew off Krateros’s accusations at the time, we can imagine he was still stung. Seeds successfully planted!

We must, however, be careful not to read the final results back into the assumptions of the people at the time. Hindsight 20/20 and all that. I do NOT think Krateros believed this would result in Parmenion’s removal/death, although I do think he wanted to get Philotas arrested and executed.

Also, I do NOT believe Hephaistion had any idea he was about to be elevated to command of half the Companion Cavalry. He’d have had no reason to think he’d be leapfrogged over older, loyal men, such as Krateros…or Kleitos, who wound up as his co-commander.

Hephaistion’s motivation? Friendship. In “Crisis and Opportunity” I stressed it was friendship to Alexander, but I’ve also come to think that Krateros may have talked him into it, so also friendship, or at least alliance, with Krateros, who knew he could rile Hephaistion’s blood. He wanted that sheen of authentic anger. I want to quickly add that Koenos joined in with the torturers because he feared going down with the ship, as he was Philotas’s brother-in-law.

All this neatly explains why it was Hephaistion to whom Philotas appealed during his torture. Not because he orchestrated it, but because he had the least reason of the three to want Philotas out of the way. He was in it for passion and so, might then be moved to pity. Krateros was all-in from the outset, and Koenos had to be to save his own neck from Philotas’s arrogant stupidity.

So Philotas was convicted, executed, and then Alexander felt he must also execute Parmenion because he was sitting on Alexander’s all-important supply lines during a major operation. That is not a pretty picture and must be acknowledged as much. Philotas Did a Dumb, and lost his life for it. Extreme, but he dug his own grave. Parmenion was flat-out murdered. Realpolitik does not excuse the death of the man who’d sided with Alexander, put him on the throne, then advised him so capably.

In any case, from Krateros’s point of view, this was terrific. Philotas was out of his way, and so was Parmenion. Honestly, I doubt he wanted to see the old man dead instead of honorably retired, but it still cleared the way for him.

Then an astonishing thing happened!

Krateros didn’t get the Companions. Hephaistion did. And Kleitos. Of the younger generation, Hephaistion had just leap-frogged right over the heads of Krateros and all his cohorts. (Again, I think Kleitos was older; there’s no evidence of Krateros being at public odds with him.)

Just imagine how angry Krateros was!

The snotty little upstart! Who the hell did Hephaistion think he was?

So yeah, Krateros got what he wanted: Philotas out of the way. And in the process, he shot himself in the foot.

Plutarch tells us exactly why Alexander made the choice he did: nobody should have that much command authority henceforth, even his best friend. But he did want a man loyal to him in that position. I would not be at all surprised if—crisis past—Alexander recognized Krateros’s maneuvering for what it was…and didn’t indulge him. He wasn’t about to give out promotions for the backstage take-down of a fellow officer.

By the Battle of the Hydaspes against Poros in India (almost three years later), Krateros served the same position as Parmenion: hold the main army while Alexander leads the attack. Yet in between, Alexander had rearranged units. Even the Companions had not only been split, but divided further into six Hipparchies. Hephaistion’s was primary, but only the first of six. He was no longer overall commander. And that would have happened had Kleitos lived or died, as Kleitos had been reassigned as satrap in Baktria. Dividing the Companions had just been the initial sally to a more comprehensive reorganization and power redistribution.

Ergo, if Krateros had power, it would never be equal to Parmenion’s, and it seems to have been deliberately delayed after the Philotas Affair. Krateros dared not get mad at Alexander. Again, as king, Alexander is above these status wars, and the Giver of Good Things.

Another complication for Krateros: Parmenion’s death had angered Parmenion’s loyal men, some of whom Krateros had commanded…and Krateros had been part of Parmenion’s downfall, however indirectly. Wouldn’t it be convenient if he could shift the blame to Hephaistion?

So Hephaistion was now the chief man “in his way.” Plus (fair or not) Krateros resented him for getting the plum assignment, may have convinced himself that Hephaistion used the opportunity to sweet-talk Alexander into giving it to him. Even if he didn’t believe that, he could still have spread the rumor. It was advantageous, displacing soldier’s anger over Parmenion’s death onto Hephaistion. And it would rile up his own battalion/soldiers with indignation on his behalf.

“Stop the steal!” *smirk*

It all exploded in India. We’re not told when, but I suspect sooner rather than later—before the Malian catastrophe. My best guess is after the Hydaspes, possibly while everyone was relaxing for a while in Poros’s kingdom. Bored soldiers are gossipy soldiers, and get restless and pick fights.

Gregor Weber in his analysis “The Court of Alexander the Great as Social System” (Alexander the Great: a new history, 2009) suggested that Alexander encouraged such rivalry among his Hetairoi and Friends, and uses the H. and K. squabble as a peak example. To some degree, that’s true. Competition was endemic to the Macedonian court because it was endemic (maybe EPIDEMIC) to Greek society more broadly. Macedonian kings (not just Alexander) would have encouraged competition as a way of choosing the best officers. The Hetairideia I described in Dancing with the Lion—the Festival of the Companions with competitions—was a real thing. I made up a lot of the details, but we hear about it under the Antigonids, by which time it involved mock battle. But it was said to have been much older. There very well may be ties between the Hetairideia and the original Macedonian “Olympics” at Dion. E.g., the latter may have grown out of the former, but it’s all too vague to know.

Anyway, competition was natural and encouraged at court, but I disagree with Weber about Alexander encouraging THAT particular competition between Hephaistion and Krateros. Weber reads the clever “philobasileus/philalexandros” as encouraging. I see it (and Plutarch’s wording suggests) just the opposite. He was trying to lower the temperature in the room. It didn’t work.

We simply aren’t told enough about the swords-drawn brawl to understand what led up to it. E.g., who started it, as Alexander put it. I don’t mean (and don’t think Alexander meant) who pulled his sword first. He meant who STARTED it. I tend to read that “I’ll kill you both, or at least the one who started it,” as a veiled threat to Krateros. He would have damn well known who started it. He was telling Krateros in that public reconciliation, “Knock it off, dickhead, or else.” And I expect that’s also what he told him in their private meeting/confrontation.

There is more to this, but I’ve said all I want to, for the moment. Again, I’m working on Krateros and Hephaistion at present for a book chapter in a collection, and I’ll also be doing more on them both for a monograph. So I’ll just end with my take on the Indian conflict.