#anyway other than that i just wanted to push and strengthen their shape a bit more

[starrysharks]

cutie

[missstiefel]

Victim of Victory

A Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney fanfiction.

Tags: slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, fix-it-fic. drama, humor, angst with a happy ending, implied/referenced self-harm, suicide attempt

Read on ao3

Chapter 3

Laura and Chris stayed in touch after that. They kept messaging each other back and forth, checking up on the other. They talked over the phone at least once a week and Chris became something like a father figure to Laura. A place where she could simply be herself, talk about her insecurities, anxieties, and fears and not be judged.

He never pushed her to talk about anything in particular, but even if she said she didn’t want to talk about something at first, it usually ended up spilling out of her mouth anyway.

She became invigorated and dedicated herself back to her studies. With her newfound motivation it became easier to keep up and she could honestly say that she had fun studying again.

Her personal life lit up again as well. While she still didn’t really talk to her peers, she got comfortable leaving her apartment again. She had even gotten her eye checked out professionally and had a surgery to be able to fit a glass eye in the socket. The scarring around it was still bad but at least it wasn’t inflamed anymore. She looked almost like a normal human being and not like something out of a horror movie again.

The initial surgery had been covered by her insurance and Chris had insisted he paid for the implant, claiming it had been his fault in the first place. And not because he had bitten Max, but rather because he had seen the message on his answering machine but had decided not to listen to it.

In her off-time Laura had taken up weightlifting and boxing. At first it had been simply a way to keep in shape and to build up the necessary muscles for dealing with large animals and livestock but aside from that, her confidence had strengthened again as well. She sometimes wondered if it was an unconscious desire of her mind to gain physical strength as a compensation for her mental break during the winter, but she rejected that idea immediately; she had fun, and that was the main thing.

All things considered Laura was comfortable in her skin. Sometimes a depressive episode would hit, but they weren’t as bad as the first one. The voice at the back of her mind had quietened down and stayed exactly that- a voice at the back of her mind.

Now, her first year at Landis was nearly coming to an end. It was the last week of lectures, and she was frantically searching for an internship position to get some practice hours in over the summer break. So far, she had asked three local vet clinics, but all had turned her application down even though they had sounded more than positive over the phone. She couldn’t help but think that her disfigured face might have been the cause for that.

This was why she was now looking for places in wildlife care, thinking they would be more open to her application since she wouldn’t have to deal with customers there. Her laptop currently displayed the homepage of a wildlife rescue and rehabilitation organization in Baltimore, and she was in the process of jotting down the number when her screen changed with an incoming video-call.

Laura’s face instantly lit up when she saw Chris’ name appear on screen. Without hesitating she accepted and used the time while the call connected to comb her hair with her fingers. A distraction was just what she needed.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Chris. How are you?” He seemed cheery but there was a certain tiredness in his face that wasn’t present in their last video chat.

“Ah, you know, busy preparing for the summer. How are your exams going?”

“Fine, yeah. Nearly finished now. Got two more upcoming ones next week and then I’m off to… somewhere.”

“So, you still haven’t found a place, yet?”

“Nah, but to be honest that’s kind of on me. I was a bit discouraged after the last rejection, so I’ve been procrastinating.” Laura shrugged and wanted to play it off, but her guilt crept up to her regardless.

“Oh well, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, it might actually be a good thing.” How was this supposed to be a good thing? Her internship was supposed to start in two weeks, and with her now being forced to look further away from her college, she would have to find a place to stay as well. She could feel her anxiety returning while she was internally freaking out.

She still didn’t know how he did it, but Chris managed to see her teetering on the brink of a panic attack again. So he specified his statement, “Look, with the curse gone the local wildlife at the quarry has begun to flourish again. Which in turn means, that we can add wildlife care back into our camp program. And we would obviously need a qualified counsellor for that. So, maybe I was thinking I could kill multiple birds with one stone by inviting you.”

Laura was flabbergasted. Did she really want to go back there? Her instincts were screaming at her to decline but her logic was pleading to not even think about it. On one hand she would have to face her fears and revisit the place where her sanity had gone out the window but on the other, she would have an actual internship. One where she would be doing more than just brewing coffee and guiding people to their respective treatment rooms.

Don’t let your doubt and insecurities turn you against yourself. You are stronger than this. Her internal debate was rather short-lived, it seemed to be a no-brainer. But she wanted to see where this was going, she wanted to let Chris work for it. He seemed pretty intent on getting her to come back, so she decided to play dumb.

“But if I was to kill birds, how would that be described as wildlife care? Or do you have some kind of avian flu going around that would warrant emergency slaughter?”

He actually seemed taken aback by her sarcasm and did a double take before answering, “Um, I hope you know that it was supposed to be a metaphor. I just thought that since you were looking for a place and I had a spot open, it would benefit us both. Also, Kaylee and Caleb are really looking forward to meeting their saviour. And well, I’d like to see you in person again as well, I guess. And you could spend some time away from college…”

Chris seemed to be aware of his rambling and stopped himself. Laura was too focused on not bursting out laughing that she didn’t register his eyes flying open in a shocked expression, thinking that he might have made things worse.

As soon as she did though, she put him at ease. “Relax Chris, I was joking. Though I would really appreciate not having to kill anything this time around.”

Relieved, he chuckled. “I think we can arrange that. Does it mean you’re saying you’re in?”

“Hell yeah. How could I say no to that?” Laura was aware that she sounded far surer of herself than she felt. She guessed she had some more emotional unpacking to do before the last fibre of her being was on board with the idea.

“Great! Camp starts July 13th, but maybe you’d like to come a few days earlier? I promise I’m not letting Travis arrest you this time.”

“Uhh sure, I’ll let you know as soon as I sorted things out on my end.” She didn’t think his last statement was necessary, though she could appreciate the foresight.

They made some more small talk before Chris had to rush to the door for a delivery he had been waiting on, so they decided to call it a day.

 ----------------

Laura was rushing home from college with a spring in her step. Her stepfather had just agreed that she could borrow a car for the summer and the time of her internship. Of course, he didn’t know that it would be in North Kill, but then her parents never really knew what happened last summer anyway.

Jogging through the stuffy streets, the slapping of her trainers onto the concrete matching her pounding heart, she couldn’t believe her luck. It seemed like the stars had aligned for her again and she was back on track in her life.

As she got back to her dingy little dorm room to pack up the last of her clothes for the summer, she shot Chris a short text to tell him she’d be there tomorrow evening. Unbeknownst to her, he’d already been sitting on pins and needles because he hadn’t heard a peep from her for the whole week.

Stuff all packed up Laura relaxed back on her couch and put on a random Netflix show. She didn’t pay the TV much heed while she was simultaneously researching the area of North Kill. Something she probably should have already done last summer but had been too lenient to do so.

Concerning the town itself her search wasn’t very fruitful. But there was more than enough information on the local wildlife, albeit mostly the huntable part. That was probably also why she only found information about local diners and pubs.

The Harbinger Motel actually had a decent web presence. Everything the hunters obviously needed were a place to stay, food and alcohol. And prey. God, Max and I should have just gone to the motel.

Before her thoughts could drift off again into the dark abyss that made up the could-have-been, her phone pinged with an incoming text message. Chris affirmed her arrival and invited her to dinner at the lodge.

With that she closed her laptop and went to bed. Tomorrow would be an exhausting yet exciting day.

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

You’re the voice in my head when I’m at my weakest

You’re the ache in my chest and I hate to feel this

Hey doubt, there’s no doubt, I’m here to prove you wrong

You’re dead to me now, I’m done living with this doubt

The speakers were blaring loudly while Laura drove into the forests of North Kill. Carefree and on the top of her voice she sang along to the lyrics of ‘Doubt’ by Through Fire. The perfect song to quieten down her raging subconscious thoughts.

You place your hands around my neck

And now I feel you stealing every breath

As you’re telling me what I’m never gonna be

But in the end, you’d be nothing more than a memory in time

When I say goodbye

As the trees grew denser around the road Laura was currently driving on, her phone slowly but steadily lost connection. Thankfully, she had planned ahead this time and marked the position of Hackett’s Quarry on her map.

With a little sense of direction finding the Quarry was a piece of cake this way. She parked next to Chris’ car in front of the lodge but stayed seated to gather her scattered belongings and finish listening to the current song of her playlist.

She just got out of her car and made her way to the trunk when another car pulled up alongside hers.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Even if the lights fixed to the cars roof weren’t proof enough, the word sheriff written in bold letters on the side was like a slap in the face.

Laura had absolutely no intention of running into the sheriff on her first day in North Kill. Or ever. Yes, she supposed it wouldn’t have been possible to evade him for her whole stay. He was Chris’ brother after all.

But him being the first person she crossed paths with? Again? It was like a fucking déjà-vu. A morbid, infernal repeat of events past. What was she going to do now?

She decided to give him the cold shoulder. Do not talk to him at all. She wasn’t so sure she could remain calm if she talked to him. She didn’t want to embarrass herself by accidentally cussing him out in front of his brother. She was supposed to be above that by now.

But something in the back of her mind nagged her that there was a much bigger chance of her spilling all her recent breakdowns and insecurities. And there was just no way she would give Travis Hackett the satisfaction of seeing her carefully re-curated façade crumble.

So, without further ado she grabbed the duffel and made her way up the stairs. In the broad daylight the front porch looked far less intimidating than she remembered. She’d almost say cosy if it weren’t for the memories of her last visit.

Before she even got the chance to knock on the door, a deep and well-known voice called out behind her.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing? This is private property.”

So much for the slight chance of the sheriff being replaced by someone else.

Closing her eyes and mentally bracing herself for the inevitable, she feebly lifted her fist to knock on the door.

“Ma’am!” before she could rap her knuckles against the wood, he interrupted her again. “I’m talking to yo-“

He immediately broke up as she spun around. Laura was surprised that he was far closer to the stairs than she had anticipated. But it gave her a clear view of his face. He looked baffled.

“Cat got your tongue?”

So much for giving him the silent treatment. His face still triggered a flight or fight response that Laura was unable to resist. Since fleeing didn’t work, she would just have to engage. Just don’t say anything stupid.

‘’Miss Kearney,” he pursed his lips as his face went back to a neutral expression. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t see why that would be any of your business.” snapped Laura. It was familiar territory.

Surprisingly he relented, “You’re right. It’s not.” The fuck? Travis Hackett has a conscience all of a sudden? “Doesn’t mean I won’t ask again.” Or maybe not.

While he stared relentlessly at her, she held his gaze as good as she was able to. It wasn’t much but she had to stand her ground. To evade the uncomfortable position he has her trapped in, she turned back around and knocked on the door.

She was invited after all. As soon as he opened the door, Chris would tell Travis politely to get lost since he had company.

She counted the seconds in her head because while she heard footsteps from inside the house, she also heard the sheriff advancing on the stairs behind her. Just as Travis reached the top of the stairs, a cheerful Chris opened the door. Thank God.

“Laura! It’s so good to see you.” Before she could reply he wrapped her in a fierce bear-hug. As he released her, he adjusted the kitchen towel draped over his shoulder and turned to his brother. “Perfect, now that everybody’s here, dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Come on in!”

“Wait,” Laura and Travis exclaimed simultaneously. Warily, Laura glanced back at Travis. He looked as confused as her. For a split second their eyes met before she averted hers to the floor. As she turned back towards Chris, she found he had already disappeared back to the kitchen probably.

With a gentle shove Travis ushered her further inside so he could close the door behind him. Without another word he snatched the duffel bag out of her hand and brushed past her into the large dining area where he unceremoniously deposited it on a bench.

Not knowing what else to do with herself, Laura followed him cautiously. As she glanced around the vast area, she couldn’t help but wonder how she got to this point in the first place. Nope, no, don’t go there.

To divert her thoughts from going back in time, she fixed her sights on the sheriff who had gone to sit at one of the tables. He was still in uniform -as if he owned anything else- and he looked as grumpy as ever. Chris obviously hadn’t told him she’d be here either.

As if he knew she was looking at him, he looked up. “So, how has life treated you?” Laura tried to fill the uncomfortable silence with small talk and to avert him from her staring at him.

As an answer he raised an eyebrow. Working his jaw, he thought about a reply. “Can’t complain. Though I have to say it’s refreshing to have someone else judge me again.” He offered sarcastically.

Wow, was that an insult wrapped in a compliment?

“You know what? Never mind. Sorry I asked.” Civil was definitely not a word that could be associated with Travis Hackett. But he wasn’t the reason she was here, so she’d just have to bear him until he left. She was here for a reason, and she wouldn’t let a creepy cop stop her from achieving her goals.

Thinking about her practice hours gave her the courage she needed to face the upcoming hour. This summer she was going to leave the past in the past and forge ahead. Just like she used to. Chris made sure of that, and he had promised to keep Travis at bay though she seriously questioned his methods.

As if summoned by her thoughts, she heard Chris approaching and announcing, “Dinner is ready!”

[crescentsteel]

Burns

pairing: Suna  x f!reader genre: fluff with slight angst (childhood friends to lovers) wc: 3.8k summary: you planned to confess to Suna on Valentines day. Unfortunately for you, he finds the holiday stupid.

[a/n]

Did this in one sitting, brain went zoom zoom

Not really comfortable writing for Inarizaki for some reason. Suna and Miya twins stans, don’t come for me. 

Thank you @tokyosdawn​, @luvnami​, @fayeiparis​ (my ride or die ily) for the betaread. 

ngl. I almost wrote smut after the fluff 

Happy Valentines Day! 🖤

This is it. This is the day. 

You’re finally going to confess to Suna. 

You have been close friends for so long, and for the whole duration of it, you have tried your utter best to feel only as such. 

You became friends with the rest of the Inarikazi team because you were always present in every game, with you being the loudest person to cheer for Suna leading everyone to pester him until he introduced you to them. Knowing Suna, he wasn’t fazed by his team’s persistent request and never mentioned to you that the team wanted to meet you. 

It had been Atsumu that day who approached you during lunch break saying that Suna asked him to ask you to attend their practice after class. 

You’ve been asking him non-stop if he can come watch them practice but he strictly prohibited you from going to the gym at all, so you were thrilled that he finally let you watch.. only to find him unpleasantly surprised that you were there. 

Apparently, the whole team thought you were dating. As much as you wish you were, you could only agree with Suna when he said you were just a long-time friend. 

But that changes today. Hopefully. 

You already know what confessing to him means, and you’re not ready to lose Suna as a friend in case this doesn’t work out. However, with the  both of you being third years already, it was now or never. You keep asking him what his plans after graduation are and he’s infuriatingly very consistent with his answer - a shrug and an apathetic ‘dunno.’

While you’re not ready to lose your friendship, you’re probably going to after high school — which is why you spent almost all of your allowance to buy ingredients to make homemade chocolate. It’s not actually that it’s expensive — you wasted so much ingredients making them that you ended up having enough for only three pieces. 

But you’re satisfied because they were of three different designs. Three cute fox-shaped chocolates of different colors. They weren’t perfect but you tailored them according to Suna’s taste - just mildly sweet so he can actually enjoy it.

You smile into the February air. 

You really aren’t sure about his feelings for you, but you know that you’re special to him. 

You’re his only female friend and despite his aloofness, he actually spends time with you outside of school. It was you who he spent New Year’s with. He celebrates your birthday even if you know he’s not really into that kind of stuff. He walks you home when you stay late from club activities. 

Being his friend since elementary school, you know he’s not the kind of guy to be nice to someone just for the sake of being nice. 

So instead of dreading for your confession, you’re actually excited. 

On your way to your first class, the chaotic twins block your path with a mischievous grin from both of them, except Atsumu’s way too obvious and upfront about it. 

“So, y/n. Anything for me?” Atsumu asks as he cocks an eyebrow at you. 

“Why would she give you any, idiot?” Osamu glares at Atsumu before turning to you with a smirk that makes you wary for some reason. “When she’s obviously giving them to Suna,” he adds.

You try to not look affected at his spot-on statement, but shit, you can already feel your heartbeat just a bit faster. Are you that obvious?

“Don’t you have hoards of shit from other girls? Why the hell are you ganging up on me?” you ask instead of answering Osamu’s speculation. 

“I want to show them to Suna during practice. His pretty little childhood friend givin’ me homemade chocolates,” Atsumu teases animatedly. 

Your eyes widen from what he said. “Wait, how did you know they were homemade?” 

The two give each other meaningful looks before Osamu leans down a bit on you. “So there really are chocolates, huh?”

You go rigid when you realize you’ve exposed yourself to these two. Shit, they’re going to tease you non-stop about this. Worse, they might tell Suna before you even get the chance to do it yourself. 

“Those are some burns on your hands, y/n. Have you treated those properly?” Atsumu eyes your hand that accidentally touched the hot pan yesterday. You tug the sleeves of your uniform lower to cover the purple-pinkish marks. 

“I’m going to be late for class, bye,” you abruptly bid goodbye and hurriedly escape from the two. God knows what else they’ll get from you if you stay longer. 

--

You erase your encounter with the twins from this morning. You can’t buckle down now. You worked hard for this day, both in body and in spirit. You’ve already had more than a fair share of doubts and second thoughts up until last night when you successfully pushed any cynicism away. 

You won’t back down, especially when Suna is just a seat away from you now. 

“Got any chocolates yet?” You prod at the topic as you put away your used cutleries. 

“Yea,” he answers lazily. “It’s so dumb.”

“What is?” you ask with a frown.

“Valentines,” he deadpans.  “Atsumu’s gonna get a fucking diabetes from the amount of chocolates he took from me because I was about to throw them away.”

You try to not let it get to you and breathe steadily to strengthen your resolve. You’re special to Suna. Surely, he won’t treat yours like that.

“What’s more idiotic is confessing this day,” he rambles on. “If a person really likes someone, why wait for Valentines to say it?” He asks rhetorically while putting away his own finished lunch. 

You feel your stomach lurch, like riding down a rollercoaster at full speed unexpectedly. You try your best to mold your face into an impassive expression to not give anything away.

On the inside though, you’re a mess. Your head feels too loud and the air feels too heavy. You want to close your eyes and disappear.

Then he looks at you. “What about you? Did you give chocolates to anyone?”

You vaguely hear his question. You feel like you’re in a bubble and every sound is muffled -- your classmates chattering, the chairs scraping against the floor, the laughter all around you feels distant.

You planned to give him the chocolates you worked so hard on, but definitely not anymore. He hit two things right (Or wrong? Who knows anymore.) on the marks and right now, you do feel idiotic for trying so hard. 

You should’ve known better. Of course, he’d find it stupid! He’s never the person to be all excited with events like this. What were you even thinking, spending all that money and effort when he obviously thinks the whole thing is a farce?

Did you really think this was going to go well? That he’d accept your chocolates and everything would be fine and you would go on as friends? In hindsight, there is never going to be a way out of this where you win. It is a stupid idea, and you’re stupid for even thinking about it.

‘Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb,’ you chant in your head. 

“Y/n?”

You flinch and find him staring at you, waiting for your answer. His golden eyes are studying your face carefully. You think you see a little bit of concern there but you brush it off.

“Oh no,” you laugh hesitantly. “No way I’d waste my time on some boy on the very rare chance that he actually likes me back, pfft.” Your laugh turns ironic and bitter. “Like you said, it’s just a dumb holiday,” you respond with a forced smile.

“Anyways, I have to go back now. Later, Rin.” You quickly stand up and head to a comfort room because you feel like shit and you need to cry it out before your classes start again, else you’d be tearing up during lecture.

“Wait.” He grips your hand firmly, adding salt to the injury as you wince when he presses the burn you got from yesterday.

“Ow!”

He’s startled by your sudden reaction, but doesn’t say anything. 

He loosens his hold and moves his grip to your wrist as he pushes up the sleeve of your uniform, revealing the burn on your hand along with small others on your arm. 

“What happened to you?” he asks with muted concern while his eyes are trained on your arm, fingers gently skimming over the burns.

You aggressively retrieve your arm and pull your sleeve back down while you come up with a lie, “Oka-san needed help in the kitchen yesterday.”

He furrows his eyebrows with suspicion. “Why? Everyone knows you’re useless in the kitchen.”

Yeah, but you wanted to do something for him, and the burns would have been worth it if he at least accepted the chocolates you worked so hard on. 

“Honestly, I don’t even know.” You try to laugh it off, but you’re losing it already, so you just give him a quick wave with whatever smile you can muster and saunter away from him. 

After a pathetic sobbing session in one of the cubicles, you make your way back to your classroom looking as normal as you possibly can. 

Thank goodness it’s Valentines. You’re not the only girl with eyes puffy from rejection. 

“Hey.” You feel a hand on your shoulder and solely from his voice, you can tell it’s Osamu. “You okay?” 

Maybe it would’ve been better if you had fallen for Osamu instead. Despite being always teased by him and Atsumu, he’s actually a nice likeable guy. Unlike Suna. 

God, why did it have to be Suna Rintarou?

“Come with me,” you say without looking at Osamu and drag him with you back to your classroom. 

“Uhh, okay.” He sounds unsure but he goes with you anyway. 

You ask him to wait for you just by the doorway of your classroom and grab the stupid box of chocolates you made from your bag. 

You practically shove it to him when you get back to where he is. “Happy Valentines, ‘Samu,” you greet with a dead expression. 

Osamu gapes at you then at the box in hand, an expression of disbelief spreading across his face. 

“Weren’t you asking for chocolates this morning?” 

“That was ‘Tsumu. Also,” he looks closely at the box. “It says ‘Rin.’

You immediately rip out the wrapper where you wrote Suna’s nickname and tuck the crumpled paper in your pocket.

“There. It doesn’t anymore,” you announce passively.

Osamu scratches his head with discomfort. “I can’t accept this, y/n. I can give it to Suna if you want,” he offers kindly.

“Miya Osamu. Either you accept it or I’m throwing it away right now.” Your voice is dead serious and so are you. If Osamu won’t accept it, it’s going to the trash where Suna would’ve tossed it in as well. 

“Okay, okay!” He surrenders with panic and opens the box slowly. 

“Holy sh-,” he clears his throat. “I mean, wow. These are so cute, the cutest I’ve received today,” he comments appreciatively before returning his gaze at you. “You sure about this, y/n?”

You nod, more convinced now that you saw his reactions towards it. “Yeah. I figured I’d want to give them to someone who’s going to actually like them.”

The soft ring of the bell alerts you that your next class is about to start. 

“Thanks Osamu,” you utter with a grateful smile before sauntering back to your classroom. 

--

“Oy ‘Samu, why are these chocolates so cute? How the hell can I eat these?” Tsumu whines.

“You shithead, those are mine!” Osamu rushes to where his twin and grabs the box protectively.

Suna just watches the two and silently waits for another fight to erupt.

“You’d just taste them and give them to me anyways. What’s the deal?” Atsumu asks with a frown.

“If you must know, ‘Tsumu. Y/n gave this to me,” Osamu announces with a condescending grin as Astumu gawks at him in disbelief. “No fucking way, you stinking liar,” Atsumu retorts.

Suna looks at the tiny box Osamu is holding and agrees with Atsumu. There is no way you’d give those to Osamu. You said so yourself this morning.

‘No way I’d waste my time on some boy on the very rare chance that he actually likes me back.’

Did you lie to him and made some for Osamu? Do you like Osamu?

Suna’s mind wanders back to the burns on your hand and arms and how your mom ‘supposedly’ asked you to help out in the kitchen. He knows something is off. You’re never asked to help out with anything that involves cooking, so why did you lie about it?

So what is going on? There’s just no way in hell you like Osamu. Not once have you mentioned liking his teammate enough for you to  venture into the ‘horrors of the kitchen’ (as you put it). And more importantly, why Osamu?

It is true that Suna doesn’t give a shit whether or not  he gets a mountain load of chocolates on this superficial holiday. He’s not eating them. 

However, he’d make an exception only if they come from you. He wouldn’t mind if they’re just store-bought ones as long as they’re from you. 

So why the fuck would you go to the troubles of making them for Osamu and not him? You can’t possibly like Osamu. He won’t allow it.

He marches to where the twins are and turns to Osamu. “Did y/n really give you that?”

Both the twins face him and while Osamu looks pensive, Atsumu wears a shit-eating grin. “Aww, Suna. Are you jealous that your beloved y/n gave us chocolates?”

“‘Tsumu, shut up for the love of God. And she didn’t give it to us. She gave it to me.” Osamu pulls the box closer to him possessively which ticks Suna off even more. 

“Did she say why?” Suna tries to sound calm despite the stupid jealousy bubbling up the pit of his stomach. 

“Obviously because-” Atsumu starts, but Osamu grabs his twin’s face with one hand to halt his babbling as he sighs to face Suna. 

“Actually, the box had your name in it,” Osamu admits. “She just ripped it out and said she’d rather give it to someone who’ll appreciate it.”

“-mmmmff Samu!” Atsumu successfully removes Osamu’s hand. “You shouldn’t have told him that! Do you realize that y/n didn’t want him to know?”

“Duh! Of course, I know. But I really can’t accept chocolates that’re supposed to be for another guy,” Osamu sighs before handing Suna the box. 

He opens it and sees the fuss Tsumu was making about it. They really are cute and are obviously made with care and precision. If someone else had told him that you made these, he wouldn’t have believed them.

But there’s something about the chocolates that he can’t ignore. 

“Why are there bites on the two pieces?” He asks as he lifts his gaze up from the chocolates. 

Atsumu puts his hands behind his head and starts whistling as he avoids Suna’s gaze while Osamu smiles apologetically. 

“Sorry, I wanted to see if they taste as good as they look,” Osamu confesses. As for Atsumu, Suna can already tell that the piss-haired setter just couldn’t help himself despite receiving so many already.

“They’re a bit bland, Suna. Tell y/n she needs to improve her baking skills,” Atsumu comments shamelessly which makes Suna scowl at Atsumu’s ungrateful ass. The fact that you made something look edible is already something commendable.

“They’re okay. Just needs a bit more sweetness,” Osamu backs his twin up.

He brings the remaining chocolate that’s still untouched to his mouth.

“What are you two talking about? It tastes perfectly fine,” he states truthfully. It’s just the right amount of sweetness that he’s able to finish it despite not really being a fan of chocolates. 

Osamu laughs softly before speaking. “She really did make them for you, Suna.”

--

That night, you toss and turn in your bed while trying to keep your focus on the movie you played. As entertaining as it is, you can’t fully enjoy it with constantly wanting to smash your head against the wall of your room.

For a good while, you really thought everything would go smoothly and that by the end of today, you and Suna would be more than just friends. 

Maybe today is a sign that you shouldn’t push it anymore. Suna said so himself: if someone likes a person, they don’t need the holiday to confess.

So why hasn’t he?

The answer is clear as day and you wish you were blind to see it, but you aren’t. 

There had been too many chances for you two to move your relationship forward, but not once had he shown a sign that he wanted to. 

He doesn’t like you like that. It’s just you and your delusional head. He doesn’t love you the way you love him. Even with the cute, romantic scene playing before you, you start tearing up. 

You grab one of your pillows and bury your face in it, effectively silencing the sob and stopping the tears that are coming as you remember your folly attempt to confess today. 

You should’ve been satisfied with the comfort of your friendship. If you hadn’t been so greedy, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt like this. 

You hear a text alert from your phone. You open it and see a text from the source of your misery.

‘Come out’

You don’t want to. Tomorrow you can be back to normal around him, but not tonight.

You hurriedly respond with a lie.

‘Went out zzz’

You throw your phone somewhere on your bed and lie down with your pillow still squeezed between your arms while you space out at nothing.

Your thirst brings you back to your senses so you stand up and get to the kitchen. When you come back to your room, you almost scream when you see Suna sitting slouching on your bed. 

“What the heck, Rin?! How did you get here?” 

“Your mother let me in. Why are you even asking obvious questions?”

You massage your temples as you plan to tell your mom later not to just let anyone in your room even though it’s someone she knows. You might be childhood friends but you’re no longer kids. He can’t just pop in and out of your room anymore like he used to.

“Why are you even here? I said I was out.”

“Your lights are open, dumbass,” he answers, to which you respond with a sigh.

“Didn’t it occur to you that I don’t want to see you?” 

He stands up from your bed and although his expression doesn’t change, you feel alarmed from how he’s towering over you without saying anything.

“W-what?” Your stutter betrays your attempt to sound fine.

“Why the fuck would you give Osamu chocolates that are supposed to be mine?” 

You gawk at him. He isn’t supposed to know that. That bastard, Osamu! You don’t have a prepared excuse for this kind of confrontation. 

“What’s it to you even? You would’ve thrown them away anyways,” you snap back with an accusatory tone.

“Not if they’re from you,” he discloses as his usually austere eyes soften up, holding your gaze. You feel like you’re about to melt.

You feel your heart beat wildly against your chest. Not long ago you had said that you didn’t want to see him, but now that he’s here, you don’t feel like moving. You don’t feel like going anywhere. Everything could be on fire around you but you’d still stay by his side.

But… this is not right. Did you already know? He doesn’t love you back.

You try to turn away to hide the gnawing pain in your chest, but he’s faster. He grabs your arm to pull you closer. When he dips down to claim your lips while his arms snake around your waist, you melt within his hold. 

His lips are so warm and uncharacteristically tender as he moves them intricately against yours, causing you to place both hands against his chest to feel him even more, to feel that he is real and not just a dream induced by how badly you yearn for him.

He pulls away a bit and finds a bewildered look on your face that just makes you look adorable. There had been many times when he thought about doing this, especially whenever you’re staring into nothingness with parted lips as if coaxing him to fuck everything else and just cross the boundary of your platonic relationship.

But to be honest, he didn’t like the complications of being in a romantic relationship with you when you already have this comfortable friendship. At the end of the day, he knows you have him and he has you. 

Yet, he absolutely despises the idea that you might have liked someone else. He’s never felt any resentment towards his teammates, not even to Astsumu who’s a fucking handful most of the time.

Only today.

Only when he saw that box of chocolates in Osamu’s hands that he realized that he didn’t want to share you with anyone.

It was selfish of him, wanting to keep you to himself but not really doing anything to actually make it happen.

That changes tonight. 

He removes one hand from your waist to hold your hand that’s resting on his chest.

“I love you, y/n.”

You blink twice at him, evidently surprised with his confession, but immediately recover when you look down and giggle softly. 

When you look back at him again, your eyes are a mixture of content and mirth. “I thought you said it’s idiotic to confess on Valentines Day,” you remind him with a wide smile.

His loving stare becomes a cold glare when you point out what he had said this morning. He didn’t plan to do it today. He just couldn’t wait until tomorrow, thereby forgetting that he had actually told you that. Although, he still believes people shouldn’t wait for the holiday to confess, it just so happened that today is when he decided to do it.

“Fine. I take it back,” he says out of petty spite.

“I’m kidding!” you respond defensively before intertwining his fingers with yours. “Actually, I was about to confess earlier, but you said the stuff about Valentines being dumb.”

“It still is,” he says, undeterred. In his defense, he really hadn’t been expecting you would. 

“Right. Yet, here we are,” you state as a matter of fact as you grip his hand tighter.

“Can you answer the damn confession already?” he asks exasperatedly which makes you laugh out loud. 

You settle down with an affectionate smile. “Yes, Rin. I love you too.”

He loses his stern expression as he takes your hand to his mouth and kisses it, rubbing the minor burn with his thumb, a reminder that he does appreciate what you did for him. 

“Happy Valentines, I guess,” he says before he goes for your lips again.

mlist of other stuff I wrote

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai  @babythotshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84​ @anaiss97 @hqbeesun @megatron-1199 @lovershaikyuu

[all-about-seggs]

A pact in blood-

Rating: 18+, Explicit

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

Word count: ~3K

Warnings: Semi-incest (Satoru is your cousin/ distant relative), masturbation, Cunnilingus, fingering, hand job, the relationship is a bit messed up, yandereish undertones.

A/n: This takes place when he's still in the academy.* Image source*

“AA-ahhh! Please don’t- don’t stop…”,

Your broken pleas reverberated through the room as Satoru’s deft fingers worked their way in and out of your sopping wet hole. You gripped the sturdy jacket that covered his shoulders, folding the fabric between your fists was the only thing you could do to maintain the last shred of composure you had.

He was like a passing cloud who offered you momentary relief and was on his way as soon as your were done, the fragments of longings that remained on your body etched deeper after every night.

Position after position, he went from your pussy over his lips to eating you out ass up and face down, all for the pleasure you couldn’t seem to get by yourself. You were now splayed out on his lap, face buried in his neck and one arm draped over him for support. Waves of his sweet scent and the euphoria assaulting your senses at the same time, taking you closer and closer to the edge.

It’s been quite some time now but the memory of your first encounter with your unfairly gorgeous cousin Satoru has been etched into your mind as if it happened just yesterday.

You were in the manor of the esteemed Gojo clan for a family event and even though you didn’t shared the same surname you were related nonetheless and were hence invited. It was a four day and three night celebration where the entire place was abuzz with excitement.

It didn’t really mattered to you, being here with a go with a flow kind of attitude, you just minded your own business until spoken to and not mingling with the faceless crowd of people you didn’t even knew the names of.

Thankfully your room was in the separate building which was a little bit further from where all the riotous events centered around. After just half a day of being in the middle of the chaos you wanted to find a way to unwind and that’s when it happened.

Stark naked and two fingers up your little cunt, there was no explaining or bullshitting your way out of this situation when the heir of the household, Satoru Gojo himself walked in in you. Feeble attempts to cover yourself and half hearted stutterings died in your mouth as soon as the young man opened his.

“ Wrong”, the deadpan reply of his made your already shaken up state worsen. Panic flooding in your system begged you to make excuses or atleast request him to not speak of this to anyone, after all families of high status are nothing if not conservative and you didn’t wanted to cause anyone any trouble.

“ I meant, y/n chan, that you’re doing it wrong”, not paying any mind to your internal conflict he continued speaking form where he stood near the door, “ don’t you know how to masturbate? I thought you were in highschool?”

His genuinely perplexed tone made you reconsider your previous opinions about the heir to the clan. Satoru, a guy who walked in on a relative masturbating, was supposed to show courtesy and leave the second he entered but instead he was rating your technique, which in all honesty may have been lacking indeed but you were desperate to cum and he seemed to pick up on that.

“ Since you’re clearly having trouble getting off”, he loosened the obi of his particularly formal kimono and shifted his uncovered ocean blue eyes towards your form, “Want me to teach you?”, his question made you gulp, then gauge your eyeballs out in disbelief. Sure you weren’t closely related and have only spoken once or twice but you attended all the occasions and holiday celebrations at their place and knew that your relationship was only platonic. His offer to cross that line made you flinch back at first.

Heaving a sigh he closed the door and sat cross legged on the tatami mat next to your futon.

“ Relax, t’s not a big deal”, flashing a toothy grin he leaned forward until your noses touched.

“ Afterall, I AM your big brother”

“ wait- you’re also in highschool!”, You retorted, “ I bet you’re a virgin too. So what CAN you teach me anyway?”, overcoming the initial embarrassment, your mouth started moving in its own accord only getting encouraged by his laid back demeanor.

“ Pfttt- so you get defensive when cornered? How cute!”, he giggled, a smile teasing at his lips at your obvious attempt to hide the shame burning in your core.

“Don’t worry, I know my way around a pussy just fine”, light hearted words fell effortlessly from his mouth and you could swear half of your brain was short circuiting because of his crude way of speaking. For all his regal appearance, he was just like any other highschooler, a year older than you but his stature and delicate features gave him a magestic aura that exceeds that of people decades older than him.

Just by the few encounters from the past, you figured he wasn’t one for following traditions or rules if it didn’t suit him. He was way above the rest, in his own distant world everytime you saw him, the school he went to, the things he had experienced were all different.

Forgetting the other's existence after passing each other by with a few formalities exchanged was all you had done with each. You two were never close or even friends but now the chance presented itself to take your non existent relationship to the extreme end through your bodies.

You wanted this.

To feel good. The hormones of youth pumping your impulsiveness you relax your muscles and lie on your back. You could clearly hear Satoru’s playfully indifferent chuckle from above when you slowly part your legs to show him the sides of yourself that even you have never completely seen.

“Just this once, okay?”

He said he was just teaching you how to masturbate but it wasn’t that simple. The only person to get naked was you and the only person who experienced the mind numbing pleasure, was also you. He only needed his deft fingers and mouth to make you feel better and for a while you didn’t even question.

That one lesson of self pleasure which you both were supposed to forget turned into an entire session as day after day Satoru would show up at your parents house unbeknownst to a soul and you both crossed the same lines of platonic relationship everyday.

The euphoria was endless but with a single rule that you weren’t allowed to touch him in turn and it goes without saying that the two of you never went all the way. It would always start with small talks about the day, even when you’d be talking, all your focus was on what was to come next.

That’s why after a few weeks of the detached pleasure he provided you, it got you thinking what he actually wanted from you. Satoru had already seen, touched and tasted all your body had to offer, never revealing any of his own.

You wondered if he ever felt sexually frustrated by always giving and never asking for anything in return. You knew he was not THAT nice. At least that’s what you believed considering his sadistic streak in bed. He did seem to be enjoying himself when he's messing you up so maybe he didn’t have many sexual urges that he needed to satisfy and was just acting on curiosity or maybe he had someone else, someone older with more experience who he didn’t constantly had a upper hand with and was able to see them as an equal. This thought alone made your chest tight, with an unnatural pain that threatened to break your heart.

You had to catch your darkening train of thought before it reached to the conclusion you were most afraid of. Knowing full well that this was just a fleeting moment that is only supposed to be enjoyed through a lens of carefree thinking, you push the budding feelings of the some very complicated emotions out of your system. The surge of jealousy you felt may have born out of falling in love with a family member but it was wrong on so many levels.

A love that starts with lust never ends well for anyone but as you were laying in his arms, the control over your body handed completely to him, your mind wondered how things would feel vice versa.

“ You seem distracted y/n”, Satoru looked at you, with his glasses off the beautiful azure eyes hidden beneath a delicate layer of white eyelashes filled your vison.

“ I’m obviously not doing it right if you have time to get lost in your thoughts”, putting you down on your bed, he started to move away and for a minute you got your hopes up, thinking your chance to finally have him completely and you cursed yourself for wanting at the same time. But no amount of berating would scrub off the insatiable thirst you had, for its roots had already made their way to your heart.

“Please let me help you too”, these few words took a lot of guts, letting go of all the inhibitions and threads of morality you fix Satoru with an unwavering gaze.

“ That’s okay babygirl, I’M the one who does the teaching here afterall”, you saw what he was trying to do, his airy yet gentle tone didn’t left much room for argument but the gray zone of your relationship was blurring to the point of confusion urged you to give into your clamoring emotions.

Without a second thought you jumped on him with all your might, closing the distance he put within seconds to cover his mouth with yours. You knew how much you weighed but despite your aggressive actions his sturdy form didn’t even deter form his position while catching you. You twirled your tongue over the roof of his mouth, the taste of your juices still lingering in there.

Hoping to have proven your resolve that wasn’t going to settle for getting brushed aside you break the kiss and look expectantly at him. An invisible bond between the two of you taking shape, strengthening the magnetism that attracted you to him.

“ That eager for my cock are you?”, Taking your face in one of his huge hand he makes you look straight at him, “You really want more? More than I'm already giving you?”, just one more push. You thought, with just a bit of coaxing, you were sure Satoru's wishy washy rules would crumble to make way for your upcoming actions.

“ I do. I know exactly what I want but”, steeling your nerves you face him, eye to eye, “ What do YOU want?”. The question was simple but the conflict swirling within Satoru’s eyes was evident and for the first time you realised that maybe this wasn’t just a case of casual hookup for him as well.

“ I want all your firsts. That’s all.” After a short stretch of silence he spoke, ironically the borderline obsessiveness of his glib response, like magic, cleared away the fog was previously clouding your mind. The nonchalance of his smirk should've been the red flag that made you rethink your life choices but the heat of the moment only seemed to ignite your lust.

Not uttering a single word, you quickly work on shedding him off his cloths, he doesn’t make any attempts at stopping you this time around, this knowledge pulling a smile out of you. By the time you reached for his boxers your hands were shaking.

Whether from excitement or nervousness you couldn’t tell but looking down through the veil of his heavy eyelashes, Satoru’s passion was evident.

Eyeing up his exposed body you still for a moment to take it all in. You ran you hands through his sculpted chest and down to his abdomen, your nails scratching the surface of his defined muscles. All of his masculinity contrasted with his oddly sweet scent and velvety pink lips that never failed to lure you in for deep soft kisses.

There’s no doubt girls must be always fawning over him and his perfectly smooth skin was something that even made you jealous. You were so captivated by his looks that you had to shake yourself free from your lovesick stupor .

You feel him up a little, hands running across his toned chest, you drag your nails through the rise and dips of his abdomen down to the contours of his defined V- line before turning your attention to his hardening member. Your breath quickens as your trembling fingers hook beneath his waistband.

Taking out his pulsating member you run your eyes up and down his entire length. He was big, to say at the very least. Bigger than you'd expected and more than you thought you could handle but backing out now would be straight up hypocrisy when your drooling mouth said otherwise.

With your ass right next to his chest, you start licking and sucking his tip with fervour, not wanting to waste even a single drop of his cum that you wanted so bad. You heard him moan lightly behind you, his voice only fuelled the fire that was burning your core. Having never given a blow job to anyone before you struggled in keeping a steady pace and his girthy cock didn’t make it any easier on you.

In just a few minutes you jaw ached and your entire face hurted but Satoru showed no signs of cumming.

In your own world again, you racked up your brain to figure out how to please him when suddenly you felt a hand climbing up your thigh. With the other hand he gripped your hips and pulled your lower half until you were straddling his mouth.

“ It’s a lot better like this don’t you think?”, as he spoke you felt his breath caressing your nether lips and you shivered in delight at the new position.

He snaked his hands in between your thighs and spread open your slit, glistening with your dripping arousal using his thumbs. Every single fold of yours now in display Satoru licked his plush lips before leaving open mouthed kisses on the exposed skin. His lips pulling out a series of appreciative hums as you desperately try to focus on your own actions.

Taking his hard length half in your mouth and half in one of your hand you tried to match the skilful movements of Satoru’s tongue that relentlessly lapped at your clit. After a few minutes of trying and failing to suck him up properly your senses got completely clouded by the heavy onslaught of that familiar release you had gotten used to.

You wanted to ask him to stop so you catch up to him but he the vigor in his actions and your own overwhelming surge of desires made you decide against it, the broken stings of his name died down with you still half choking on his length.

The only thing your lust laden mind could decipher except for pleasure was shame. To you, it was shameful how, being the one who asked to touch him, you were the one tethering near the edge. Before long your convulsing pussy was dripping with your juices, trickling down from his face that was still buried nose deep in your crotch.

Messing you up always filled Satoru with a kind of affection that he didn’t thought he was capable of.

Your cute whines getting muffled by his cock that you could only take half way past your llip sent waves of ecstasy down his spine. The cum that kept on flowing from your aching hole that he was the first to taste and the last as well took him to a high that no amount of pleasure could.

He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to be the provider of your everything who had complete control over you or if he just wanted to spend hours into the night, praising every fibre of your being that was so eager to make him feel good. This duality of his thoughts confused him further and in that moment he knew he had to see this to the end.

Your heavy pants was the only thing that could be heard in the otherwise silent room, guilt and pleasure leaving you tongue tied. You move yourself from above him, your quivering body falling like a sac just beside his own.

“ I’m sorry! I couldn’t make you-“, before you could finish your breathy apology he brought up a finger near your frowning lips to quite you down.

“Its okay sugar, it was your first time. Not a big deal.”, the soft notes of his voice took the edge off of the disappointment you felt, “I told you. I’ll teach you everything.”

Those eyes. Two shining orbs of brilliant blue gazed at you in the same way you found yourself staring at him. Watching over you like it was their birthright and oddly enough, the scrutiny made you feel completly at home just like the warmth of his long arms that wrapped themselves around you.

" Realx Y/n, I'll be very thourough with my teaching, afterall,", your heart thumped loudly in your chest in response to his smooth voice, "I don't do things halfway.

The pleasent fatigue that had taken a hold of your body slowly dissipated but the growing haziness of your mind got you wondering if you were falling in deepness of his ocean blue eyes but as soon realization hit you, you were already halfway through blacking out.

That you’d never be forgiven for wanting.

From that moment on, you knew.

Part 2? Idk you tell me(╯︵╰,)

[razorblade180-heated]

Yoimiya and Kazuha fluffy smut to celebrate you gettin her 😏

Festive reunion

[Warning, it’s smut, duh…]

Speechless, it was never a word in Yoimiya’s vocabulary. It also was the last word anyone would use to describe her. On a normal day she was the chatter box of any conversation bringing zest and joy to any topic. However, today was a bit different. The hot blooded extrovert was had prepared herself to meet tons of new people now that she had been summoned to fight alongside Aether and his companions. Yoimiya had failed to realize one of them was Kazuha. It wasn’t like she forgot him. Far from it. There wasn’t a day since his departure that Yoimiya didn’t think about him and his flowery words that contrasted yet complimented her straight forward thinking. Looks like the feelings were mutual, because the wandering samurai was showing a more direct side of himself she’d never seen. With her hand in his, Kazuha led her to his temporary home inside a magical teapot.

Yoimiya couldn’t help but blush. She had only just showed up! Not only that, but he had gotten permission to perform the wishing by himself, creating this alone time. What are the chances the others knew his intentions to begin with? Oh her poor heart couldn’t handle that level of embarrassment!

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“H-Huh? What’s up?”

“Your face, it’s bright red.”

Yeah no kidding! Anyone’s would be in this situation. Being swept into romance moments after showing up somewhere was a lot to process for her.

“I’m fine. Hehe Just a little hot outside and you know…stuff.” She smiled sheepishly, fidgeting a bit.

Kazuha gave his own gentle smile as he blushed lightly. “Guess I’m going a little fast huh? Sorry, we take things slo-”

“No! Uhh I mean…it’s okay, really. Actually I’m extremely flattered. I just never expected this as my welcome present. I was expecting more of a meet and greet.” She giggled, “but…this is nice too. Now I don’t have to wonder if you missed me.”

“Days didn’t feel nearly as bright without you.”

Great. Her face might as be as red as her vision. Her heart fluttered each step they took until they finally walked into the modest home Kazuha made form himself. It was obvious he had found interest in Liyue aesthetic, except a fireplace in the living room that felt slightly out of place, yet cozy nonetheless.

Yoimiya turned around to close the door behind her. The sudden feeling of Kazuha’s arms wrapping around her waist gave her a jolt. The young man held her close and Yoimiya could feel the heat from his face tickle her back as he pressed his head against it.

“Forgive me, but it’s hard to control myself. It’s…been quite some time, hasn’t it?

“Yeah, it has.” She could feel his lips kiss her nape, grazing her neck and nipping on pale flesh until a red mark was left behind. Yoimiya closed her eyes and exposed more of her neck for him to have, gasping from contact. She leaned forward slightly, pushing her butt against his pelvis for friction. Her left breast was soon claimed right after, his fingers slipping through the bindings.

“Mmmm Kazuha~” Another moan escaped her when Kazuha’s other hand made its way under her yukata, making short work of those bindings as well. The flustered pyro bit her lip when she felt two digits slip inside. Yoimiya braced her arms against the door while she let her lover take control.

Kazuha could feel her grip around his fingers and he ran them over her most sensitive spots. “To think you’re already this wet?”

“I missed you too ya know!?” She blurted out, blushing at her confession. “Please don’t tease me.”

“Bend over more for me.”

Yoimiya did just that. Straight forward Kazuha was something she didn’t know she needed in her life. He removed his fingers from her body and bunched up her clothes. Her face grew hotter feeling the bindings on her fall off her, exposing her body. Fingers gripped her plump rear and the chill of one running down her slit would’ve made her yelp if it wasn’t for what happened next. The heat of Kazuha’s breath.

“Kazuha? What- Aaah!”

He slipped his tongue inside her dripping core, lapping up her essence and getting lost in her scent. Both his hands help support her legs as they trembled from his assault. The sound of her moans only spurred him to completely devour her.

“KAZUHA!!” She yelled, moaning heavily. She could feel his tongue flatten out and swirl around to rake every spot. “I-I said no teasing!” His fingers dug into her damp thighs as he continued to eat her out. Yoimiya’s body instinctively bent over more to allow him deeper reach. Her moans turned to panting. Kazuha wasn’t gonna let her go. The sound of her own arousal and his dramatic slurping noises only turned her on more like he knew it would.

Yoimiya dropped her head and look to the floor. That’s when she caught sight of Kazuha’s position, on his knees and his length already freed. The member was already hard and dripping precum in anticipation. Was it always that big? In a few short moments, that was going to be…just thinking about it made her mind go blank and body tense.

Her first orgasm hit hard, making her scream as Kazuha continued tasting the wave of pleasure that came with her orgasm, until he licked up the majority. Kazuha stood up, wiping his face and catching his breath as he admired the sight of Yoimiya trembling and still bent over. Her skin had gotten redder and a thin layer of sweat had started.

“You’re so gorgeous…”

“Shut up. I don’t wanna hear that while I’m this.” She muttered. Yoimiya felt embarrassed enough to just die! They’ve been intimate before, but knowing Kazuha was seeing her like this was always going to be too much to handle.

“Do you wanna stay like that?”

She nodded, “looking at you right now would be too much.”

Kazuha could see the tips of her ears turn bright red. He wanted to listen, but found himself denying the mercy.

Yoimiya was ready for him to continue until she felt felt his hand on her chest raise her up enough for his face to come over her right shoulder. Yet again the girl was speechless upon staring into his eyes and seeing his playful smirk.

“I missed all of you. That includes your eyes.” Not holding back, Kazuha captured her lips.

Yoimiya felt her heart pound and head go into a haze. She openly invited his mouth to conquer her own. Not like she was really using it right now anyways. The heat of his member pressed against her entrance and with a few hip movements, slipped inside. Yoimiya whimpered from the feeling of being spread open so quickly. Kazuha’s hips begin smacking against her rear. Whimpers turned to yelps between the patient kiss. How long had it been since she felt full? Was Kazuha always this warm? Was his grasp on her this good? All these things made Yoimiya kiss him harder, wanting him to continue this assertiveness.

Kazuha was in no better shape. Distance had only strengthened their yearning. Kazuha added his own gasps and grown into the mix. Yoimiya had a grip on him that made his hips move on their own. The heat and wetness of her core made him ache in the best way. Their lips parted to only paint and whisper sweet nothings as their bodies gave into pleasure.

“Kazu~ more…more~”

“You’re everything when you beg like this.”

“Mmmph~ meanie. I-aahh…want another kiss.”

Kazuha obeyed, giving her what she craved without question. Yoimiya was always cute, but the blush across her face brought it to another level. Kazuha could only be weak to it.

“Yoi, I’m…”

“Me too.” She gasped, reaching the end of her rope. Yoimiya stole another, longer kiss; moaning heavily as she came.

Kazuha could only thrust a few more times before her tightness overwhelmed him. He gave one last thrust, cumming inside her. He pulled from the kiss to let her breathe while he peppered her ear with kisses.

Yoimiya’s entire body shuttered upon feeling his warmth shoot inside. The little nips and pecks Kazuha gave her made her giggle, putting a smile on het face as she continued to catch her breath.

“Kazu, that tickles hehe.”

“Now how am I supposed to stop with you calling me that, Yoi?” He teased, continued his kisses. He slowly lowered both of them down to the floor. Yoimiya held his face and the two were finally face to face properly. He smiled at the girl who smiled back with kind eyes and a pinkish red blush. “Your face is more beautiful than any sunset.”

Yoimiya couldn’t help but avert her gaze briefly before staring back. “It’s dangerous to spoil a girl with talk like that. Especially after what we just did.”

“Heh, I can’t name a moment more perfect to spoil someone than this.” Kazuha kissed her forehead. “I love you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Glad to be here.” She put her arms over shoulders and around his neck. “More kisses please.” Her heart danced so much Yoimiya thought she was at a fireworks festival. “Let’s love each other here a little longer.”

xxxxx

“Hello everyone, I’m Yoimiya!” She said to her new teammates, placing her hands on her hips and glowing like the sun; her time with Kazuha only adding to her radiance.

Many waved happily upon her entrance, while I few people like Aether, Beidou, and even Hu Tao noticed the marks on Yoimiya’s neck. They looked at Kazuha with a cheeky grin he did his best to ignore, but even laid back samurai couldn’t help but smile sheepishly.

[yuzukult]

effortlessly pt. 3 || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut (not in this chapter, will occur in future chapters) words: ~3.3k notes: i wrote this in between writing my reports and preparing for my presentation... yes, inspiration always sparks when you have other things to prioritize ** tried my best to proofread this one lol

i do not have an update schedule therefore i know that i definitely did just post part two like 2-3 days ago so...

series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue 

This was utterly uncomfortable for the three of you... well the two of you because Jungkook is standing there with a smile still stretched across his face. It’s difficult to judge what thoughts are running through his head because he’s pointing to the bag in Dahyun’s hand as she lifts her arm up to give it to him.

“Well, I’m glad you like me. I’m your tutor after all. It would have been really weird if you hated me—”

“Jeon, she has feelings for you.” You break in, scantily agitated with his absentmindedness. Jungkook wasn’t stupid when it came to the books, blessed with athletic ability, and had great social skills but he was awful in the love department.

“Feelings?” He turns to look at you surprisingly before switching his stare back to Dahyun. “When you say ‘go out’ you mean... date. As in more than a friend?”

You’re doubtful if Dahyun is thankful for your presence or not, however she’s sighing with relief that he finally reads her perspective successfully. Jungkook had misinterpreted almost every confession is what Dahyun learns, fearing that he would do the same with her. “Yes, oppa. I want to be more than friends, have more than just a student and tutor relationship with you.”

You want to run and hide. Why the hell did Jungkook tell her to say it with you standing here? You’ve encountered plenty of occasions where the atmosphere was awkward but this takes the cake. Jungkook never failed to surprise you. 

Clearing your throat, you sheepishly rub the back of your neck. “Uh, I’m just gonna wait outside. I’ll be by your car when you’re done.”

Jungkook’s piercing gaze meets yours and if you didn’t turn away, you’re definitely sure that you’d feel the daggers. 

“I’m sorry, Dahyun-ah.” His face is washed with guilt and sympathy but the look on Dahyun’s face doesn’t show an ounce of bitterness or sadness. “Don’t worry about it, Oppa. I know you mean well.”

Jungkook’s rummaging through his duffle bag that sits on one of the benches by the pool, searching for a shirt before throwing it over his body. He recognizes how embarrassing it is standing in front of a girl who just confessed to him and he doesn’t even have a shirt on. 

“I’m sorry. I... want to prioritize swimming right now. I haven’t even really thought about dating anyone else right now. Recruiters are coming by the finals and I want to be ready for it.”

“Anyone else?” She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, deep in thought. “Was it the girl that was standing here just now? Is she that ‘anyone else’?”

Startled, his eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Jungkook Oppa, please don’t make excuses and lie to me. If you don’t like me back, just come out and say it. I can take rejection.”

He frowns. He isn’t familiar with the emotion resulting in being turned down by someone you like but he can comprehend the feeling of longing for someone you can’t have. “Dahyun, it’s not the right time. There’s nothing wrong with you, I’m just very dedicated to my career.” Jungkook hesitates for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip before gathering enough courage to continue his response authentically. “And I’ll be honest, I’ve had my eye on someone for a long time. I’m waiting for her to notice her own feelings without pressuring her. I hope you understand.”

But she clearly doesn’t. Her heart feels like it’s being torn into shreds carelessly and she wants to burst into tears but she holds a facade in front of Jungkook to validate her own ‘mature and adult demeanor,’ and that she wasn’t just any younger girl he tutors.

“I don’t,” She admits, clenching her teeth. “But I won’t pursue you anymore. I’ll see you after I get the results of my math exam back.” Dahyun says firmly before making her way out of the swimming arena.

Heaving a sigh of alleviation, Jungkook slugs the duffle bag over his shoulder as he watches her silhouette disappear. 

Despite all the lovely things about him, Jungkook’s biggest flaw was his guilty conscience. He always found himself in situations where he’d do things for people out of feeling guilty, even if it meant he had to go out of his way to do it. He had been trying to practice the words “no” or “I can’t” but the terms would eat him up inside, causing his stomach to churn in anxiety. He would have inner arguments with himself until he goes back and tells the person that he can do it, even if he didn’t want to.

In a different scenario, he could see himself telling Dahyun that he would consider her confession and take her out on a date. Even though she was a bit younger than him, she was pretty and nice but saying yes to her meant that his chances with you were slim. 

Yet again, your existence in his life only improved him for the better. For the first time, he said no to someone, for the benefit of himself, even if the situation wasn’t good for someone else. 

You’re leaning on Jungkook’s old beat up Lexus in the parking lot of the school, playing Animal Crossing on your phone before the shadow of a figure approaches you slowly, altering your attention toward the person. Dahyun.

“Dahyun,” You call out, standing up straight and off the car. “Uh, sorry about Jungkook. How are you?”

Dahyun stands there, a blank look slapped on her face as if she’s seen a ghost. “He said swimming comes first. Then he said something about having feelings for someone else. Is he just finding excuses to reject me at this point?”

“Huh?” Slips from your lips, a dumbfounded expression on your face. “He has feelings for someone? I didn’t know that specifically, but uh, I do know that swimming is Jungkook’s dream. Don’t take it personally, it’s just something he has always wanted to do.”

She shakes her head, regaining consciousness again before locking eyes with yours. “He definitely said he had feelings for someone. How don’t you know? Aren’t you supposed to be his friend?”

“Yes but—“ You’re hesitating, uncertain on how to comfort her. This hasn’t necessarily been your strongest suit and it was starting to bite you in the ass for never strengthening that weakness. “—I’m sure that even with whomever he said he has feelings for, he’s still prioritizing his dreams.”

“I guess I was stupid enough to think someone like him could ever fall for someone like me.” 

Watching as Dahyun slouches in her school uniform while exhaling a deep breath, you couldn’t help but feel yourself in her position. Her shoulders drop along with her expression before she attempts to shake off the melancholic emotions, waving a goodbye to you. “I’m going to head home. Thanks anyway.”

In a sense, you were Dahyun. Maybe not someone who Jungkook tutors but the words that Dahyun said rang in your ears like a thought you had previously. I guess I was stupid enough to think someone like him could ever fall for someone like me. What made you special enough in Jungkook’s eyes to be more than just a friend? What about this girl that Dahyun was talking about? Who was she and would you even be able to convince Jungkook of your feelings enough for him to consider you?

Jungkook’s nearing appearance manages to snap you out of your thoughts before it got any more negative than it already had. He unlocks the car doors, slamming it after he settles into the seat. You follow in unison with his actions.

“Ugh,” He groans, dropping his forehead onto the steering wheel of his car. “That was my first rejection. I feel so bad for her.”

“Everyone gets rejected at least once, I’m sure she’ll be okay eventually.”

Jungkook throws his head back against the leather seats that are worn to the point it’s peeling and tearing off. He refused to get himself seat covers because he liked the authentic look of the car being in its original shape. 

“She looked like she was going to burst into tears.”

“What are you going to do then? Date her out of pity?” You raise a brow questioningly. He looks in your direction with a pout and you shake your head in response. “That’s what I thought. Speaking of, how are you going to interrogate me about having a crush when Dahyun here just told me you have feelings for someone? Contradicting, much?”

He freezes. The keys are in the ignition but he hasn’t started the vehicle yet, jaw clenched restlessly. Jungkook is trying to observe your expression through his peripheral vision but fails miserably. “... Did she say anything else?”

“Nothing other than you saying that swimming is number one. Why, did you tell her anything else?”

“Uh, no.” He says abruptly, finally turning the key as the car stutters until letting out a heavy rumble. Tilting your head, it’s your turn to lean in closer to Jungkook to examine his face. “You told her about the girl, didn’t you?”

“Uh, no.” He repeats, gulping anxiously. 

“Who is she?”

“I never said there was a girl.” 

“You’re lying. You said earlier that you could tell when I lie. Do you think I don’t have that same exact ability? Come on, Jeon. Talk to me.”

“Nah,” Clicking the seatbelt on over his body, he puts the car in drive before hitting the gas. “Maybe I’ll tell you more during dessert. After you tell me what’s on your mind lately.”

“Has Jungkook ever had a girlfriend?”

“What?” You retort, completely off-guard. You’re sitting squished at a table in a KBBQ restaurant with the rest of Jungkook’s swim team including several of their girlfriends and other friends. Hoseok is sitting across from you, munching on another piece of grilled pork before reiterating his question. 

“You’ve known him like forever. Has he ever had a girlfriend?”

“... Not that I know of—“

“No.” Jungkook chimes in, squinting his eyes at the older male. “Why are you asking this?”

“You wouldn’t tell me,” Hoseok says casually, eyeing the younger with the same expression. “Plus, I wanna hook you up with someone. Are you just going to be a prude up until college?”

“No.” Jungkook says again, picking up his chopsticks to grab a couple pieces of cooked meat and placing it onto your plate. Hoseok is watching closely at the actions between the two of you and you can feel his intense stare penetrating through you. 

Hoseok snaps, his face brightening. “Exactly! That’s why I want you to meet with this girl I know, maybe she can—”

Jungkook waves his hand in dismissal, leaning his other arm on the table. “I meant no, as in no, Hoseok, I am not a prude.” With those words, suddenly his audience extended from Hoseok to the entire team.

“Bro, you’re fucking with us. You kissed someone?”

“Well,” He starts, dropping his body onto the back of his seat. “I did it all.”

Your face is flushing crimson. Jungkook is really testing your patience today, isn’t he? First Dahyun’s confession and now this? Stuffing lettuce and a couple pieces of meat into your mouth, you’re attempting to pretend to keep yourself busy to the point that you’re not included in the conversation.

“No way,” Hoseok’s eyes are widened to the point it could fall out of its sockets. “Who was it? Do we know her?”

“I don’t think it matters.” Jungkook responds, stuffing some kimchi into Hoseok’s mouth to stop him from speaking any more. “You don’t need to hook me up then, right? Since I already lost my virginity?”

“Oh, it definitely matters,” Chimes in Jimin, another member from the team. He’s sitting on the other side of Jungkook, tugging on the younger male’s sleeve. “Tell us, tell us! You never even had a girlfriend. Was it a one night stand? Do you even do one night stands? You don’t even look like you sleep around.”

Irritated by the interrogation, he groans, aggressively ruffling his hair. He smells like your signature vanilla scented shampoo and you’re wondering if he stole some from your house or if he decided that it was going to be a staple item in his routine. “I don’t do one night stands. She’s just someone I wanted to do my first time with.”

“Wow, she sounds special. You gonna ask her out or what?” Jimin asks, body shifting closer to Jungkook. 

“What makes you think he likes her?” Hoseok counters. 

Jimin rolls his eyes at his teammate before attacking back. “He specifically wanted her to take his virginity, what else could it be?”

Hoseok’s mouth drops, suddenly shocked by Jimin’s statement. “Wait, you make a good point. Forget that college chick taking your virginity, who’s this girl that you, yourself, chose to pop your cherry? I wanna know! Wait—” His lips tug into an impish grin as he turns to watch you cramming a portion full of kimchi into your mouth. “—You know.”

“What?” You say; if Yura was here right now she’d call you a hypocrite for speaking with your mouth full. “You know who the girl is. It’s impossible for Jungkook to hide anything from you, you definitely know who it is.”

“I—“ Just then, the door of the restaurant rings its bell, a figure making its way to the table as he screams a bright “hello!”

Kim Taehyung.

He’s still as handsome as ever. The last time you saw him, his hair was in between a shade of grey and a platinum but you’re not really sure since it was hidden underneath his graduation cap. He must have dyed it sometime when he left because the strands from his head are now a pastel pink. 

Taehyung was your unofficial hero, intruding in the conversation and capturing everyone’s attention away from you when you needed him the most.

The team is rowdy at the sight of their friend, taking turns shoving and pulling on him as he expresses his love for them in return, full of laughs and smiles. 

“I heard our little Kook won the 100m freestyle today!” He says, hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, dragging him into his embrace. “Congrats! I’m so proud of you! I also missed you, buddy. Look how far you’ve gone!”

Despite Jungkook dismissing your crush on Taehyung, he was still Jungkook’s role model. Taehyung did the impossible— snatching up the international scholarship and heading to a well renowned university to be part of their swim team. Everything Taehyung was is what Jungkook aspired to be.

“Thanks, Hyung. Can’t believe you’re back, what are you doing here?”

He lets out a chuckle, running his fingers through his soft locks that cascaded over his face. Taehyung was like the lead character of an anime; a flawless personality and attractive. Maybe the only negative thing about him was that he never pursued a relationship and girls were always left rejected, jilted and disappointed... why does that sound familiar?

“Decided to come back during my semester break. Where’s your love?” Right when he says the term of endearment, his eyes meet yours, your cheeks burning hot. “Taehyung.”

The way he says your name sounds smooth and sweet like honey to the point it’s what you want yourself to drown in. He’s advancing toward you, arms opened and welcoming you into his hold. “Missed you, bub. We should meet during my time here and catch up.”

From behind, Jungkook’s nose is scrunched up in disgust. Bub?

The night was filled with stories of the States that Taehyung shares amongst the group; how he managed to get lost after getting on the subway, or a time where he ordered the wrong thing off the menu but it was a great experience, or the time he dyed his hair the wrong color because of miscommunication with the barber. Regardless, Taehyung was living an entirely different life in America and although alone, he seemed... happy.

Eventually, the owners of the restaurant have to escort you guys out of the place, overstaying your welcome there.

“Shall we head for dessert?” Jungkook asks, hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“This late?”

“Maybe places aren’t open but... you wanna stay over the night? I’ve been waiting patiently throughout dinner to hear what you’re going to say and I don’t want to leave the night without hearing it.”

Right. You were supposed to confess to Jungkook tonight. You had finally gathered enough courage to confess to your best friend of almost two decades, possibly throwing your friendship on the line. Should you even do it? Was it even worth it?

“Please.” Jungkook begs, pouting with his puppy eyes. And as if he could almost read your mind, he adds, “Nothing you can say will make me leave you.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Out of the shower, you point with your head toward the bathroom, trying to grab Jungkook’s attention by calling out his name. You’re in a baggy shirt you borrow from him and a pair of shorts you accidentally left over, too lazy to actually walk over next door to grab your own clothes for the night. “It’s your turn.”

He swallows. His stare is glued to your exposed, smooth, freshly shaved legs that you flaunt previously in achievement. Eyes roaming over your body, he feels his lower stomach stir when he notices how obvious it is you’re not wearing a bra— the sudden change in temperature from the steaming hot shower to the cool windy night in his bedroom perks your nipples through the thin fabric.

You crinkle your brows. “What are you drooling over? Go shower, you reek of chlorine.”

After he quickly shifts off the bed and showers, he comes out, dressed in his own pjs, pulling the covers off the bed that you’re sitting underneath.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“We still need to talk.”

“There’s no dessert here.” You state firmly.

He glares at you, sliding into the empty space beside you before snagging the blanket to drape over the both of you. “Just think of me. I’m sweet.”

You hum, lying down closer to him to gather his radiating body warmth as he wraps his arms around your frame. “More like bitter.”

Jungkook must have been spent. His breathing was slowing down and his lids were heavy from such an eventual yet long day that it even shut him up from responding with a comeback.

When what feels like hours later, you’re still awake, head resting on his chest with his arm placed underneath your body. “This feels right,” you say to no one in particular, tapping your finger against his peck. “Everything about you feels right.”

Letting out a sigh, you continue. “Watching and hearing about all these girls that are head over heels for you eventually get rejected or forgotten about is discouraging. It makes me feel as though I’m just like them— pining for a guy who would never love me back. I remember when I told you about my crush on Taehyung and you immediately shot down my beliefs. I hated you for that until I realized that you were right. Maybe I didn’t like him because once I knew how I felt about you, my crush... seemed so small in comparison.” You’re tracing imaginary shapes on his body with your pointer finger, murmuring while scrambling through your disorganized thoughts.

“Yura convinced me to tell you how I feel. I don’t understand what goes on in her mind but she thinks that you’ve been hinting things to me. Even so, I’m scared of losing you as a friend. What if this doesn’t work out? What if you reject me and we resent each other?” You clench your jaw, taking in a deep breath before rounding up every brave cell in your body. “Regardless of that... I think I love you.” and instantaneously, you feel the weight of burden lift from your shoulders. Even though he’s asleep through your confession, it felt good to at last say those words confidently out loud.

But Jungkook’s not asleep. He’s wide awake, freezing in place like a statue, careful not to startle you. You love him.

[bosspigeon]

one for sorrow

Pairing: Gen, M!Detective/Mason Word Count:  3483 Summary: Juniper Fenn reflects on memories, nursery rhymes, loneliness, and wanting to be wanted.

Just a little (uh... kinda big, actually?) character study for my soft boy, Juni! It wound up a lot more emotional than I originally intended, but I like having this insight into his character.

CW for (implied) deadnaming, misgendering, coming out, and in the last portion a non-graphic post-sex scene with some allusions to said sex ahfdsjh.

                                     One for sorrow, two for joy.

He thought the needle would hurt more than it did. He closes his eyes and looks away, and the artist gives him the hairy eyeball when he clutches at Tina’s knee, like she’s afraid he’ll jump off the bench and bolt for the door. He wants to ask if that’s happened before, but he thinks he’s made enough of a fool of himself so far.

“You sure you’re good?” she asks, giving him an out. Somehow, that just strengthens his resolve.

He takes a slow breath and nods, closing his eyes.

He hears the buzzing, and when the machine first touches skin, he almost jumps, but he’s more worried about looking like more of a baby than he already does than he is startled, so he bites his lips and forces himself to holds still. And it does hurt, but not like he thought it would. He squints one eye open to watch the progress of the first line over his skin. He expects to be repulsed, like when he’s having bloodwork done, and he has to look away from the needle going into his arm. But this is different, somehow. Doesn’t make his stomach turn.

“This is the quietest I’ve ever seen you,” Tina teases, when the first wing has taken shape. He almost jumps again, but he manages to contain it to a twitch. He’s going to tip the artist as much as he’s able after this is done, just for dealing with someone as fidgety as him.

He chews at his lip. “It’s… I dunno. I wouldn’t say it feels good, but it’s kind of soothing, in a weird way?”

She leans over, watching, and the artist gives her a bit of a look, so she backs up again. “Have you told your mum?” she asks.

He snorts out a laugh and looks away, back at the stencil on his arm that will soon be filled in with black feathers and ringed with flowers. “Of course not. She’d probably kill me.”

“She doesn’t like tattoos?” Tina tilts her head, watching his face like she’s waiting for him to start whining about how it hurts. She’s always been the tougher of the two of them, and he’s got no illusions about that, so he’s sort of proud of himself for keeping his cool—as much as he’s got anyway.

He shrugs the arm that’s not under the machine, and wonders when he’ll get his next tattoo. He’s already got ideas for more, and knowing that it’s not so bad as he was worried it would be is exciting. Not to mention, it’s something that’s just for him. Not for anyone else. He’s… never really done anything like this before. “I don’t know what she likes, but I doubt she’d approve.”

She sucks her teeth and he squeezes her knee again when she gives him that soft, sad look she sometimes does when his mum comes up in conversation. “What’s it going to be?” she asks suddenly. Tina’s a good friend, changing the subject before he can get moody about it.

“A magpie,” he says softly, looking back down to watch the lone bird slowly taking shape on his skin.

                                       Three for a girl, four for a boy.

He asks what happened to all the pretty paintings around the house when he’s ten, because they disappear sometime after one of Mum’s visits, when she seemed more distant than usual. Maybe she hopes he won’t notice, but he misses them immediately. The house is too bare without them, it feels so lonely. It’s always been lonely, ever since Dad passed, but the bare walls make it even lonelier. Mum brushes it off, of course. He’s used to it at this point, so he doesn’t push her, but he’s also stubborn, so he goes looking. He’s even more determined when she tries to shut him up by replacing them all with clean, impersonal prints in neat little frames. He finds them in the attic, tucked away in a box, each one slipped carefully into a protective sleeve or folder and wrapped in tissue paper. He finds a dreamy matted watercolor of him as a baby, fat and freckly and smiling with no teeth, and he has to take a minute to sit down and cry as quietly as possible before he can start going through the rest. There’s a folder of scrawled pencil portraits, too. He finds one of Mum sitting on a pier, peeking back over her shoulder with her hair blowing in the wind. She’s smiling. He can’t remember the last time he saw her smile.

There’s a self portrait that makes him laugh through his tears, because the reflective surface Dad seems to have used as his mirror is a Christmas ornament, so his face is distorted, one eye huge, his tongue out, drawing himself drawing. He keeps that one for sure, and a few of the other ones he thinks he can get away with. An oil pastel of a wooden swing dripping with honeysuckle, a colored pencil drawing of the library, a few studies of people and plants and animals, and another watercolor of the three magpies, sitting in a juniper tree.

There are three magpies painted on his bedroom wall, from back when it was his nursery. Dad painted them right after he was born, before they brought him home from the hospital. They’d waited until he arrived to know what his gender would be. Of course, he went and messed that up, like he did most things. Sometimes he wonders if Dad would be disappointed, or if he’d think it was funny.

They used to be above his crib, and then his bed when he outgrew that, but he moves his bed to the opposite side of his room when he’s fourteen, and covers them with a poster. He thinks for sure Mum’s going to give him an earful about it, but he’s surprised she hasn’t tried to cover them up herself. He supposes it’s not really an issue, since when she is home, it’s not like she spends any time in his bedroom.

And then he's sixteen, and he’s been practicing his watercolor for years at this point. Sometimes, he creeps into the attic when he’s got the house to himself, rifles through Dad’s paintings, studies his style for as long as he can. He’s been old enough not to need a proper nanny for years now, though someone comes to check up on him frequently and make sure he’s got food and necessities, but beyond that he’s got plenty of time alone. He sits in the attic until he's sore from the wooden floor, trying to think of how Dad’s hands might have looked while he worked, the speed and angle of his brush strokes. He doesn’t think he can find anything new at this point, as many times as he’s snuck up here to look at Dad’s work, but out of the blue, he finds what might have been a really nice landscape, if it weren’t marred by fat little handprints in bright yellow and green, as if he’d smeared his hands across the palette the second Da took his eyes off it, and slapped them down in the middle of the paper. He comes back to it a lot, when he spends time in the attic, because when he looks at it, he swears he can hear what he imagines Dad’s laugh sounded like, his voice calling him a little menace with all the fondness in the world. 

And then he’s eighteen, and he’s alone on his birthday. Mum calls, tells him she loves him and she would come and visit him later on, so they could do something together, but she couldn’t take the day off. She tells him how proud she is of her daughter being all grown up, and he winces, but keeps his mouth shut.

And then he maybe gets a little bit drunk, drags out his paints and brushes, rifles through the portfolio hidden carefully in the back of his closet, and finds the painting with the juniper tree and the three magpies

He takes another shot to steady his nerves, and paints in a fourth.

                                      Five for silver, six for gold.

He shouldn’t be surprised Mum doesn't come to his graduation, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. She’s busy, she’s always been busy, she’s been busy since he was a toddler.

He was stupid to believe anything he did would be important enough for her to bother with. To believe that he could matter to anyone enough.

Tina’s stepmum had more foresight than he did, inviting him along to her and Tina’s celebration dinner at a fancy restaurant out of town, and he has to take a minute to cry in the bathroom after they proudly present him with a messily wrapped gift and a card that practically explodes with glitter when he open it, but he can’t even pretend to be annoyed because it has his name in it, and while he's trying very hard not to break down crying in public, Tina hugs him so tightly his spine creaks and tells him she couldn’t have wished for a better brother.

When they drop him off at home, his eyes are still red and a bit wet, he’s full of good food and affection, and he’s smiling like an idiot in spite of the fact that he can’t stop sniffling. The heavy sterling silver magpie skull charm rests against his collarbone, the weight comforting in a way he can’t hope to put into words. He'll never forget Tina’s dewy, smiling eyes as she clasped it around his neck and told him proudly, “Now you’ve got two.'"

He falls into bed holding the charm, reluctant to take it off, but knowing he should put it somewhere safe before bed. He exhales a happy sigh, laughing a bit wetly to himself.

And then his phone vibrates in the pocket of his slacks, and his heart seizes in his chest.

He doesn’t have to check the ID to know who it is. Nobody ever calls him, and his eyes flicker anxiously to the pressed dress in its plastic garment bag still hanging untouched on the back of his closet door. He’d given Tina the expensive name-brand heels for her own graduation outfit, because even if he did want them, he couldn’t walk in the damn things anyway. Lucky for him, they wear the same size shoe.

He takes a moment to calm his breathing, but that means he has to fumble to answer the call before it ends, and he winces when he sees two more missed calls in his log. “Mum!” he blurts, his voice instinctively pitching higher. “Hi! How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she tells him easily. “I’m sorry again I couldn’t make it today. There was  a—”

“A big project, I know,” he finishes. It’s always a project, or a trip, or a meeting. The details are always scant, but Mum knows how to make it sound big and important and in need of her attention. He’s tried not to be bitter about it, but there’s always been a part of him that wishes, for once, she’d decide he was important enough to need her attention. “It’s okay, Mum.” It’s not, it never was, but it would be selfish of him to tell her that. She’s got enough to worry about.

“Well, I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten, so I had a gift delivered. It should have arrived today.”

He bites back a sigh. He wonders if it would be easier if she had just forgotten. If it would hurt less than knowing she always made the decision not to see him. “Oh, I’ll go check!” he blurts, trying to inject as much enthusiasm into his voice as possible. He rolls out of bed and heads for the door, poking out to check the mailbox. Of course, inside there is a slim, rectangular package, wrapped in tidy brown paper. The address and names are printed on stickers.

He takes it inside with the phone tucked against his shoulder, weighing the box in his hands. It’s light, and he wants to be excited about whatever it is, but he’s suddenly drained from the day, from crying and laughing and crying some more.

The dining room, somehow, has always felt more lonely than anywhere else in the house, and he’s never been able to figure out why, but he puts the package on the table and starts picking at the neat wrapping. Mum is quiet on the other end of the phone, waiting, and Juni wants to break the odd silence, but can’t even begin to think of what to say. He wishes he didn’t bite his nails, because it takes him way too long to break into the pristine paper, and inside is a long red jewelry box. When he lifts the lid, there is a delicate gold necklace resting on a soft velvet pad, understated and objectively lovely, if not really his style, but it’s the note that flutters out of the box that catches his attention. His eyes skim the note, expecting her usual platitudes that he sometimes wonders if she has someone else type for her.

I am so proud of the woman you’ve become.

His breath leaves him in a painful, strangled rush, his lungs squeezing tight in his chest. And before Mum can speak, he blurts "I can't take this," trailed by a ragged sob.

“Of course you can,” she says gently, kindly. “I know how you get about expensive gifts, but really, it’s no trouble—”

His head fills with screaming static when she calls him what she’s always called him, what she doesn’t know better than to call him, because he’s never told her. He’s never had the chance, it’s never been the right time, it felt wrong not to do it in person, but whenever he sees her in person he feels like he shouldn’t waste the time with her by bringing up something so…

“My name is Juniper!” It explodes out of him, louder than he’s ever been with her, and it stuns her into silence. “I’m not your daughter!” he cries desperately, “I’m your son. You can’t be proud of the woman I’ve become, because I’m not a woman!” He sounds insane, he knows he does, shrill and frantic, but his heart is hammering so hard he feels dizzy, the walls are yawning wide around him, the dining room feels huge and so empty and so bleak. He’s never felt more alone in this dark, quiet house he’s spent his entire life rattling around in than he does in this exact moment, and it’s suffocating. His phone drops from shaking fingers onto the floor, and he drops with it, curling into a ball and struggling to remember how to breathe, dizzily hoping he won’t need to go scrambling for his inhaler. His fingers clench so tightly around the heavy silver charm he’s almost worried he’s going to snap the simple leather cord, but he needs to ground himself or he feels like he’ll dissolve entirely.

He hears Mum calling the name that’s not his, and when he finally manages to fumble his phone with nerveless fingers, he winces seeing the screen is cracked. “I’m sorry,” he sobs weakly, his eyes burning with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He can’t even be sure what he’s apologizing for, but he knows he has to, especially when he slams the end call button and buries his face in his knees so he can cry alone in the dark.

                              Seven for a secret, never to be told.

Juni’s skin is starting to get clammy, but he’s too comfortable to move. Eventually, he’s going to have to, if for nothing else than to get up and get cleaned up, but for now, he’s happy, if a little chilly. He nuzzles into the soft curls dusted across Mason’s chest, and lets his eyelids fall to half-mast, just open enough to absently count the freckles hidden under the chest hair, inevitably lose count, and start counting again. Mason smells good, cooling sweat and sandalwood, and dozy as he is, it takes a moment for Juni to realize he doesn’t really smell like smoke at all anymore. His room doesn’t smell lke smoke, either, he realizes. His heart thuds hard behind his ribs.

He gets distracted when a shiver rolls over him, the chill suddenly overwhelming against his sticky skin, and he curls further into Mason’s chest in an attempt to leach some of his warmth.

Mason clicks his tongue, and Juni’s whole body stiffens, worry zinging into his gut to rattle around there like a bird in a too-small cage. Mason shifts underneath him, and he starts to roll away, to apologize, to get out of his hair, before a strong hand clasps the back of his neck.

“Hold still,” Mason grunts, sitting up and patting around for the edge of the blanket. He pulls it out from under them both, which almost sends the detective rolling off the bed against his will this time, but Mason's hand shifts down to spread across his lower back and hold him steady until he can get them both tucked underneath.

He flops back against the pillows again, one arm tucked under his head and the other loose at his side, and slowly, cautiously, Juni crawls his way under it. The hand lands  on his hip and squeezes, and Juni settles his head back on the vampire’s chest just in time to hear the pleased little rumble there. He flushes down to his chest and bites his lip, distracting himself by petting at Mason’s chest hair.

And then he pokes his flat, brown nipple and says, “Boop!” on some stupid impulse, and giggles like an idiot.

Mason scoffs and rolls his eyes, but shifts so that Juni’s thigh hitches up over his. “Keep that up, sweetheart, and we’ll be going into round two sooner rather than later.” Juni can feel the truth in that statement against his thigh, and he blushes so hotly he knows Mason can feel it at every point their bodies are touching. He might be approaching supernova levels of heat when Mason smugly adds, “Well, round two for me. Three for you.”

He hides his face in Mason’s chest with a long groan. “I’m going to explode,” he declares. “I’m going to collapse like a dying star.”

Mason laughs, sharp and startled and shockingly bright, and Juni’s head shoots up so he can see his face. His hair is a mess, but of course it still looks amazing, hanging around his face in loose, sweat-damp spirals. His vulpine grey eyes are crinkling at the corners, even his sharp nose wrinkling in a way that makes Juni’s heart almost stop. And his mouth, usually either pinned into a scowl, or twisted into a sly (and stupidly attractive) smirk,  is curled into a smile, breathtaking in its open softness.

God, I love you, Juni wants to cry, his heart pounding in counterpoint to the desperate, silent declaration he traps behind his teeth by digging them into his lower lip so hard he’s almost afraid he’s going to make himself bleed. And it doesn’t stop. I love you, I love you, I love you drums in his chest, hums through his blood, and when Mason catches him looking, he reaches out to push the tangled forelock of curls hanging in Juni’s eyes out of his face, cupping his cheek to pull him into a kiss. Juni shivers and braces his hand on Mason’s chest, feeling the vampire’s heart thumping there, steady and stable and achingly familiar. His own matches it beat for beat, and thankfully his mouth is too occupied for the pulsing plea of love me, love me, please love me to spill out. So he dives into it, clings to it, and when Mason breaks away to let him breathe, Juni buries his mouth against the arch of his throat instead, presses messy kisses to his collarbones, his chest, his shoulders, throttles the words before they can escape him and pushes them into touches instead. Touches can’t damn him the way words can.

There’s a soft, shameful part of him he ignores like he always has that whispers to him that maybe, just maybe, if he pours enough of himself into every kiss, every touch, that the words will finally be understood. That the weak little part of him he buries deeper and deeper every time it cries out will finally be seen, and answered, and cradled tenderly in someone’s strong, freckled hands.

But until then, it will sit there in his chest under lock and key and ache, like all his secrets do.

[nyxdelanuit]

How Close is Too Close (Mammon x Reader)

Part 2 to How Far is Too Far

I did it, I wrote the fluff @miiyaatsumu

You laid in Mammon’s bed as he rearranged some things in his room. Neither of you had thought ahead to bring any of your belongings, so you were dressed in whatever of Mammon’s he thought would fit you.

  You laid in Mammon’s bed as he rearranged some things in his room. Neither of you had thought ahead to bring any of your belongings, so you were dressed in whatever of Mammon’s he thought would fit you.

 “What if they don’t let me stay?” Your voice barely cut through the silence, but you knew Mammon heard.

 "They have ta, how can I protect ya if you're so far away." His voice was soft, but he wouldn't turn to face you. He was scared too. "If they really don't let ya stay, I'll just have ta come with ya. You're such a weak lil human, ya need the Great Mammon to protect ya." A bit of his ego finally bled into his voice, and he stopped fiddling with his possessions long enough to slip into bed next to you. "You're still tremblin', so the Great Mammon is gonna do ya a favor and hold ya. So you better get some sleep." A ghost of a smile lit your face as he let you nuzzle into his chest.

You were decidedly colder when you awoke. Your swollen eyes protested their opening, so you simply laid, buried in the sheets that smelled of rich amber and Mammon. Consciousness brought with it the awareness of two hushed voices, near enough that you could hear.

 “And what is your excuse for her not being in her own bed?” The only other voice in the house that could be that stern was Satan, but you could tell it was Lucifer by the overwhelming disappointment laced in his tone. You wanted to protest, tell Lucifer that you couldn’t bear sleeping by yourself for a moment longer, but Mammon cut in first.

 “I brought ‘em here. Lucifer, I- I messed it up. When I went to get ‘em, the pact mark was hurting em. It only stopped when I was holding her. I couldn’t risk it. It’s my fault, I think I missed her so much that it was hurtin’ her.” You cracked your eyes open far enough to see the anger on Lucifer’s face melt into something softer.

 You were lucky that Asmo had hidden away part of your wardrobe before you had left, or maybe that had just been an excuse for him to buy more during his weekly Majolish sprees. Still, you were dressed nicely enough to show your face in front of Diavolo.

 It was intimidating standing in front of him and Barbatos while they were talking about you. Even worse when they were discussing how to punish Mammon for breaking the rules to go get you.

 “You left without permission from me or Lucifer, not to mention you weren’t even called-” Diavolo was uncharacteristically serious, but you couldn’t help but cut in.

 "I was calling him. I don't know how to summon my pacts, but I wanted him to come." Your voice was shakier than you had intended, but the vaulted ceiling amplified it to be much louder than you expected. Mammon shifted uncomfortably next to you.

 “It’s my fault, my pact was hurting her for bein’ so far from me. I was bein’ greedy.” Mammon looked to the ground, resembling a kicked puppy, and all you wanted to do was reassure him. It wasn’t his fault, not entirely. You had missed them all just as much. Before you could act on those feelings, Beel stood next to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder.

 “We’ve all felt it. Me and Belphie especially. She hasn’t been eating enough,”

 “Or sleeping well,” Belphie blurted out, rubbing his drowsy eyes at Beel’s side.

 “We’ve all felt her pull at the pacts. Mammon was the only one bull-headed enough to do something about it.” Satan sighed, appalled he had to side with his scummy brother. The brothers gathered around you one-by-one, until only Lucifer stood aside.

 “Please don’t make me leave.” Your voice was thick with unshed tears, and that was the final straw for Lucifer. He took measured steps to your side, brushing a tear off of your cheek.

 “It would look particularly bad on our part if anything were to happen to a transfer student after they left our realm.” He conceded, looking to Diavolo. All the poise seemed to deflate from Diavolo.

 “You did want to unite the realms, my lord.” Barbatos and Diavolo seemed to have a conversation between themselves with no words, but after a few moments of silence, he spoke again. “This union will only strengthen our path to that goal.” Barbatos finished, to which Diavolo let out a great guffaw.

 "Then so be it, if your brothers are willing to take her under your protection, then she is welcome to stay." He cheered, and the brothers wasted no time in smiling and pulling you into their grasp in celebration—all except for Lucifer, who turned his worried gaze to you and Mammon.

 “Union…” The whispered word fell from Lucifer’s lips, lost among his brother’s voices. Lucifer knew Barbatos would never use his words so lightly.

 You felt yourself come alive that night, spirits lifted by the brother's presence. Diavolo had told you not to worry about your previous life now, they would take care of all of that for you. So now, you just needed to adjust to your future.

 After the exciting night you had catching up with the brothers and soaking in their presence, it felt a bit odd to stand in the doorway of your room. It looked exactly as you left it except for the messy sheets on your bed. Belphie must have used it as an emergency nap place.

 “Hey…” Mammon’s voice floated in from behind you, “Just wanted to make sure ya didn’t need anything… ya know cause it’s my job to take care of ya.” He scratched at his neck, the faint blush creeping up over his cheeks. “Sorry ‘bout your bed, I didn’t think ta fix it up when I left.”

 Oh… Oh… Mammon had been sleeping in your bed. You let him into your room, closing the door behind him. He flopped down on your bed, and you scurried over to fill the empty space. The sheets did carry his scent, and you hoped it wasn't too weird of you to be burying your face into them.

 “Mammon… why’d you come get me?” He scoffed, staring up at the ceiling.

 “You heard me. It was my fault, so I had ta make up for my mess. Besides, I’m your first man, and ya called, so I came.”

 “Why’d you miss me so much?” His eyes drifted to yours, but he didn’t move.

 “I don’t know. You’re just a puny lil human, I shoulda just let you live your life in the human realm…” You could see the pout on his lips, but you weren’t content with his answer.

 “Mammoney,” you whined, and he finally pulled you in to rest against his side. “I missed you so much, it felt like I was suffocating.” You spoke hushed whispers into his chest, trailing your fingers over where you remembered the white lines to be.

 “I missed you too, my human.” It was easier for him to confess into your hair, away from your prying eyes. Soft sighs fell from his lips as your touches lingered, and he was quick to reciprocate by drawing circles and nonsensical shapes into your back.

 “Don’t leave me again.”

 “Never. You’re mine now. One of my treasures. No one is getting their grubby hands on ya, or they’ll have to deal with the Great Mammon.”

 “No one? Not even one of your brothers?” You had meant it to be a joke, but Mammon stopped tracing shapes on your back to hold you closer.

 “Not even them.”

 “Not even for all the grimm in the Devildom?”

 “Don’t push it, human.” His voice was strained, and you angled to look up at him.

 “Answer the question, Mammon.”

 “Fine,” he looked away with a blush, “Not for all the grimm in the world. Just don’t leave again.”

 "I love you, Mammon." You hadn't meant to say it, not really. But the way he was desperately holding you close while trying to make sure you couldn't see his face, plus his admission, you couldn't hold it back. He crushed you to his chest, pulling you on top of him.

 "Is that what this is? Is that why I couldn't get ya outta my head? Why I couldn't sleep unless I was in your bed. Even then, it hurt. I missed you so bad when ya were gone." You could feel him shake under your touch, and you pressed up off of his chest to look in his eyes.

 “I thought maybe it’d be better with ya here… but it still hurt. Thinkin ya would spend all your time with someone else. But ya love me? Really?” Tears slipped from his eyes like the diamonds he coveted, and you let them fall in favor of winding your arms around his neck.

 “I love my first man, the one who brought me home. How couldn’t I? Remember what happened before I left?”

 “I told ya not to leave,”

 “I didn’t want to,”

 “And you kissed me…” his fingers traced his lips.

 “And you kissed me too… but then you didn’t say anything. And I had to leave… I- I thought that meant you didn’t want me.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Mammon’s was on yours. It was soft and desperate and tasted salty from his tears.

 "I always wanted ya. I'm greedy like that. I always want you next ta me, lookin' at me, hell, even making fun of me. If that meant ya weren't leaving my side, I'd be okay with you makin' fun of me too." You brought a hand to his face, tracing his lips.

 “Looks like you’re lucky then, cause you’re stuck with me now, Mammoney.” You giggled as you pressed kisses to his throat.

 “You’re the lucky one, my lil human, having the Great Mammon by your side.” He ran his fingers down your sides, increasing the giggles pouring from you. “Now you’re never gettin’ away from me. You’re my human, and I’m your Mammon.” He pressed a chase kiss to your lips. “A deal is a deal, sealed with a kiss.” He smirked at you as you blushed.

 “Do you seal a lot of deals this way?”

 “Only the important ones.”

 “I’m not sure… it didn’t feel like a deal-sealing kiss.”

 “Oi, don’t make me do it again.” He placed another kiss to your lips anyways, spreading out to pepper your face with kisses now that he could. The two of you laid in bed until the early morning hours, Mammon taking his time getting comfortable with you.

 He spent his time running his hands down your arms, laying kisses on your intertwined hands, writing his name in your palm. You found out he blushed from the shoulders up if you kissed his cheek, or when your fingers drew the familiar white lines on his bare chest, or if you whispered ‘I love you,’ in his ear. His new favorite sound was the content sigh you let out as you laid on his chest with your ear over his thrumming heart, or the way you tried to hold back your laughter as his fingers hit a ticklish spot on your side.

 But his favorite moment by far is when you finally decided to give in to sleep, curling in on your side. He thought he was meant to leave, but you pulled his arm over your waist. You fit perfectly against him, legs tangled, laying just right so that he could lay kisses across your shoulders. For once, he was grateful for his sin; no one would dare steal away his treasure while they laid in bed with him. He could be as greedy as he wanted, now that he had you.TAGLIST:

@say-my-name-assbut @animefandomally @gokm1023 @verdandi24-blog @moonsaye @zbops @beatific-drabbles

[cotillion-the-rope]

Shade Lord Ghost Drabbles: The White Lady

"Maybe Ghost and/or Hollow and Hornet meet up with the White Lady?"

~

In the memories Ghost had shared, getting into the White Lady’s hollow and meeting her in its center had been easy. But their form must’ve been awfully small before they’d ascended to godhood because there was no way Hollow could fit through that opening

They leaned their forehead against the side of the tree. They were so close and yet so far. … With the Radiance dead, did the White Lady forgive them their failure? Did they deserve such forgiveness? Or want it? Did she even know the Radiance was dead and thus Hollow was free of the Void Egg and the Dreamers free of their sleep? … Impossible to know when they couldn’t get in to see her.

A few hours later

“Ah, here you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Pushing off the tree, Hollow turned their head to watch Hornet approach. “What are you doing all the way out here?” she continued as she reached them. “Or… I guess I know why. You’re here to see the White Lady.”

That was their reason for being out here, yes, but… they couldn’t get in to do so. They’d simply stayed because they weren’t sure what else to do. Also, they’d wanted to avoid Ghost for a little longer; Ghost was pleasant but their presence was a bit intense, their thoughts and emotions often even more so, Hollow needed a break.

Hornet turned to look at the tree. “I don’t understand why you’d want to see her but I suppose my understanding of it doesn’t matter. Alas, she’s a coward hiding from her crimes by closing herself off from the rest of the world. It’s about time she came out and joined us though. Let’s cut her out.”

Hollow hadn’t considered doing that. Were they allowed to do such a thing? Surely it was unkind to force her out of her hollow like that. But Hornet was already drawing her needle and stabbing it into the bark of the tree. It didn’t go in very far.

“Help me with this.”

Well Hollow wanted to see the White Lady and they were good at following orders so they drew their nail. It wasn’t in great shape – Ghost had recommended they take it to the nail smith to reforge and strengthen it but they hadn’t yet because they’d been planning to do so after their visit the White Lady – but even so they were strong enough stab it deep into the tree, finding the hollow that presumably housed the White Lady. With the edge as dulled as it was sawing an opening into the trunk would be nigh on impossible so instead, they pulled it out, shifted it up slightly and pressed it in again. It would take a while but that was fine. After the third stab though…

“Stop.” The White Lady’s voice was muffled through the tree. “I’ll come out on my own.”

Hollow withdrew their nail and stepped back. Planting the tip of the nail in the ground at their feet, they folded their hands over its hilt and straightened their back as they settled into waiting for the White Lady to emerge.

“I’m guessing you wouldn’t listen if I told you to continue cutting her out,” Hornet said.

That was correct. The only orders that Hollow might even consider following over those of the White Lady’s were the Pale King’s. And even then, such a situation had never occurred and thus they weren’t sure what they would’ve done if it had. … Even the remote chance of it happening was gone with the Pale King dead. … Had he died because they’d failed to contain the Radiance? Or would he have died no matter what? Hollow would probably never know.

Hornet sighed and sat on nearby tree root. “You’re even harder to communicate with than Ghost was before they ascended. At least they nodded or shook their head sometimes.”

~

True to her nature as a sentient tree being, the White Lady never did anything quickly. She was always slow and methodical. Thus it was a few hours before she was emerging from the opening she’d magically coaxed the tree into making for her.

She looked in Hollow’s general direction as she stepped towards them. Her eyes were milky, gaze unfocused. Shoulders hunched, her stature seemed diminished since last Hollow had seen her an immeasurable length of time ago. So Hollow wasn’t the only one who was no longer what they’d once been. … How different would the Pale King have been if he’d survived to be with them here?

“I didn’t believe this day would ever come.” The White Lady sounded almost… sad? Though what did Hollow really know about emotions?

They’d only come here with the desire to see her but now that she stood in front of them, they weren’t sure what to do or even want they wanted from her. She’d always been the one to initiate contact of any sort as they were meant to be hollow and thus not able to feel emotions. That was a lie though and now that they both knew that, what was Hollow supposed to do? Especially after so long when so much had changed.

Before they had much time to think on it, Hornet spoke hopped down from where she’d climbed up to rest I the tree branches, landing gracefully next to Hollow facing the White Lady. “You owe them an apology. It won’t fix anything or make any of what you did to them or any of your other offspring better but you still owe them one anyway.”

“You are correct, Hornet.” Her gaze settled more firmly on Hollow, indicating that perhaps her sight wasn’t completely gone. “I’m sorry. You were meant be hollow. You were made to contain the Radiance indefinitely. But in hindsight perhaps that plan was doomed to fail from the start. I would undo it if I could.”

If Hollow could speak, they might’ve said they forgave her even though now that they were thinking about it… did they? Containing the Radiance had been far worse than anything they ever could’ve imagined. It was their own fault for not being truly hollow but she and the Pale King had still been the ones to put them through it. They’d created Hollow solely for that purpose. Not to mention all the failed vessels who’d never made it out of the abyss who’d also been created for that purpose. … Still though, she was their mother, she and the Pale King had showed them love despite believing them incapable of returning it. And they’d been trying to save the kingdom and everyone in it; a noble cause. So perhaps forgiveness was earned anyway? …

Regardless of whether or Hollow forgave her, unlike Ghost, they lacked the emotional energy or willpower to be angry about. They just wanted things to go back to how they’d been before the Egg. Such would never happen though. So instead, they let their posture sag back into what had become normal for them now as they stepped closer to the White Lady.

Slow and gentle as always, she lifted a hand to cradle their face, thumbing over the crack on the side of the shell. “It’s been a long time. I’d missed you.”

“I’ll leave you two to it then,” Hornet said before springing off, vanishing within seconds.

Lowering her hand, the White Lady sighed. “I’m not sure what to do now.”

Hollow understood the feeling completely. They had no idea what to do anymore, especially with no one there to tell them. But, inspired by their reunion with Ghost, they did have an idea one what to do in this exact moment.

They put their nail away, hanging it off of the back of their new cloak that Hornet had made for them. Then they took the White Lady’s hand and pulled her towards the exit. They would take her up to Dirtmouth and introduce her to everyone Ghost had introduced them to. It wasn’t much but it was something, right?

[jasontoddiefor]

Summary: Sequel to watch the time go. A/B/O AU in which Obi-Wan doesn’t realize Anakin claiming Ahsoka as his kid also means that she’s now his child. 

Obi-Wan was pacing. Anakin didn’t think his mate was even noticing it, marching from one end of the room to the other as he looked over the reports that had been sent in earlier, not even really reading them. He was nervous, agitated, and unfocused. Anakin watched as Obi-Wan rolled his shoulders and let out a low breath and then, as he had periodically the past hour already, he looked to the door before continuing.

He was definitely not aware of his behavior, unlike Anakin and just about every clone in the meeting room.

“Sir.”

Anakin looked away from Obi-Wan to see Rex standing in front of him. “General Kenobi, he is… stressed. It’s agitating the men.”

“I know,” Anakin sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. Just, give him a while. He hasn’t noticed yet.”

Rex blinked once, then he looked at Anakin in what could only be described as utter disbelief.

“He hasn’t noticed yet,” he repeated flatly. “Forgive me, General, but what. How hasn’t he noticed?”

Anakin shrugged. “It doesn’t really happen at the temple, at least never to that extent. I know what to look out for though so it’s kind of obvious from the outside perspective but….”

Anakin trailed off and turned to Obi-Wan just in time to see him look, once more, at the door through which Ahsoka had disappeared just one hour ago.

Truth be told, Anakin didn’t want to be here either. He wanted to return to his nest together with his mate and child, but they needed to get this battle plan ready so that when the repairs on the ship were done, they could leave Coruscant behind quickly and rush to the aid of yet another planet in need of Republic support. Anakin could put his own needs aside for a moment because he was quite aware of what he wanted and could calm his nerves by reminding himself that Obi-Wan was right here and Ahsoka safe at the temple. For once in his life, Anakin knew precisely why he was stressed and Obi-Wan did not.

This reversal of their roles was weird and Anakin privately vowed to remember to tease Obi-Wan about it in the future.

“Sir, I don’t think we’re going to get anything productive out of this meeting if he keeps this up,” Rex commented. “Could you please just tell him?”

Anakin grinned mischievously. “Now where would be the fun in that?”

Rex sent him a deadpan look. The fellow Omega was just a little annoyed with their antics and Anakin couldn’t fault him for it. Watching Obi-Wan was disconcerting, but from his perspective, it was also kind of hilarious. All that talk about our Padawan and Obi-Wan had no idea what exactly had shifted in their dynamics since the last time Anakin had felt the need to build a proper nest. The feeling hadn’t subdued much since then, curse his hormones and curse the Order for caring enough about their members to keep them away from shady suppressants, but it still spiked from time to time.

“Sir, please,” Rex almost begged. Anakin had never actually seen any of his men beg. They were much too proud for that and Anakin liked to think he was good enough of a General that they never felt the need to, but could simply ask him for whatever they needed. “Cody looks just about ready to take the General’s head off and we can’t afford to lose Kote to being court-martialed, so please?”

Cody’s eyes were indeed twitching and Anakin saw two troopers behind him exchanging a few credits, pointing at Obi-Wan. The Beta Commander was definitely a little irked by Obi-Wan’s behavior. Rex was a little more relaxed, but in the past months he had put up with Ahsoka and Anakin being more content than before while Cody had to deal with a jittery Alpha. That definitely wasn’t a fair trade.

“Alright, alright,” Anakin finally gave in and stood up. “I’ll talk to him. It’s almost time for our night rotation anyway. Meeting adjourned and we continue tomorrow after we got our hours? The ship should be ready then too and we’ll likely have our new assignment as well.”

Rex let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, sir. It will be done.”

Obi-Wan, meanwhile, was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even notice it when Anakin approached him as all the officers left the room.

“Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan’s turned his head away from the entrance and looked Anakin in confusion.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan slowly returned to reality. “Sorry, I was lost in thought. Has something happened?” He stopped to look around the empty room. “And where is everyone?”

“Lost in thought,” Anakin repeated and snorted. “That’s one thing to call it. We decided to talk more tomorrow.”

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and tilted his head in confusion before his eyes darted to the door, again. Anakin was kind of charmed by it all.

“Why?”

“Because of your inability to concentrate and your Commander’s want to throw you into the brig. Let’s go home.”

Anakin took his mate’s hand and led him out of the room. Normally, Obi-Wan would have protested more, asked more questions, but instead he was silent and, perhaps, a little more affectionate than he usually would be out in the open. He walked a lot closer to Anakin, let him hold his hand. They tried to show at least a bit of professionalism when they weren’t in their quarters, especially Obi-Wan wanted to uphold that image, whereas Anakin couldn’t care less, but it was clear that wasn’t going to happen right now.

The trip back to the temple had never seemed as long as it had now, and Anakin recalled that time he was sixteen and Obi-Wan had gotten so sick on a mission, he had been worried he would lose his Master. When they did finally reach their home, Obi-Wan already looked a little better, though he was still far from the serene and calm Jedi Master. The few Jedi they passed on their walk through the halls gave Obi-Wan a curious look, though not as much as they would have towards the beginning of the war. There were more and more Master and Padawan pairs whose bonds had strengthened. Seeing a Master who slightly more protective than usual and hovered over their charge wasn’t a regular thing yet, but once the war ended, if it ever did-

There would be change.

Soon they were standing in front of the training salles where Ahsoka was sparring viciously. She had grown so much already since her apprenticeship had started, Anakin had to stop himself from purring with pride. Obi-Wan too watched her with pride, but his eyes were tracking the course of her opponent’s blade a little too closely.

“Ahsoka’s safe,” Anakin reassured him, but Obi-Wan only looked at him in confusion. “Of course, she is,” he replied and yet his voice was a little deeper, a little closer to worry and anger than it should be.

“Right.” Anakin watched Ahsoka do another spin over the head of Barriss and victoriously land on her feet. Smiling, he called out to her. “Ahsoka! It’s time to go!”

His Padawan turned around to him, first happy when she spotted the two of them, but then quickly began scowling in disappointment.

“But I only just started training,” she replied, but marched over to them regardless after bowing to Barriss.

She wasn’t stomping her feet, but it certainly felt similar enough to it from a Jedi’s perspective. Obi-Wan, who would usually cite Anakin’s past misbehavior at him at this time, was silent once more, carefully tracking Ahsoka’s every movement, checking her for any visible injuries.

It was hilarious really.

“Where do we have to go? Have we got a new assignment?” Ahsoka asked him.

“Nope, just our rooms,” Anakin only replied.

Ahsoka shot him a look of disbelief, then turned to Obi-Wan to check if this was some dumb joke they were playing on her. However, as soon as Ahsoka stood next to Obi-Wan tough, she too realized there wasn’t something quite right with him. And yet she wasn’t given even a chance to say another word, as Obi-Wan apparently decided that enough was enough and simply grabbed her waist to throw her over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Ahsoka protested. “Obi-Wan! Let me down.”

“You’re too slow, little one,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice definitely more of a growl than his normal speaking voice.

She pulled a face and then, after she contemplated protesting again, came to the conclusion that life would be much easier and kinder on her if she just went along with Obi-Wan’s behavior and let herself be carried.

Thankfully, the walk to their rooms was a quite short one. Anakin opened the door and let Obi-Wan direct them towards the bedroom. He waited until Anakin had made himself comfortable, then he dumped Ahsoka on his lap and marched straight out of the door again.

“Okay, so what’s going on,” Ahsoka asked as soon as he had disappeared.

“I’d say his instincts finally caught up to him, little one,” Anakin laughed.

Gently, he pushed Ahsoka off his lap to fix his nest. Not that there was anything wrong with it per se, it was just not perfect either. It had been a while since he had slept here and not on a ship. He puffed the pillows and rearranged the blankets until they had taken the shape he preferred. He glanced at Ahsoka, waiting for her to add to the nest. He knew the Jedi didn’t usually do this communally, but this was how he had grown up and it brought him peace to stick to this habit. Ahsoka had gotten used to Anakin’s habit and by now made her own corner in his nest. Once they were done, they crawled under the largest blanket and let its weight lie comfortably upon them.

“So, when is he going to be back to normal?” Ahsoka asked.

Anakin snorted. “I think you can say normal goodbye for a while, but I think he’ll calm down a little soon.” Anakin quietly counted the days and, oh yeah, his math matched up. “His rut would have been around now normally.”

Ahsoka elbowed him in the side all while complaining. “Eewww, gross, gross, gross, I did not need to know that about my grandmaster, thank you.”

“It’s just biology, Ahsoka, honestly.”

“Gross biology,” she replied in the spirit of a teenager.

Obi-Wan returned soon after, announcing his arrival with the sound of doors opening and closing. When he entered the bedroom, he was carrying a mountain of snacks. To Anakin’s delight, his favorite sweets and fruits had been stacked in there as well. Anakin didn’t know how Obi-Wan had managed to even find all of those in such a short time, never mind during the war when some of the more exotic treats had become harder to import. Their kitchen was definitely empty for sure.

“I brought food,” Obi-Wan said, his voice suddenly tinted with confusion while he gave Anakin a treat.

“Thank you,” Anakin said simply and accepted.

Eagerly, Ahsoka grabbed a chocolate bar out of the pile, opened the wrapping and devoured it like a starved man in the desert. Anakin himself really wasn’t all that hungry, but this was less about being sated and more of giving Obi-Wan some much-needed comfort and calm. It wasn’t like Anakin didn’t appreciate his Alpha taking care of them. They just didn’t often indulge in the comforts that came with their designation, there was no time for it, but Anakin definitely enjoyed the sweet joy that came with Obi-Wan paying attention to him.

“Come here,” Anakin told Obi-Wan and threw back the blanket so he could join them.

Dutifully, his mate left the food on the nearby table, kicked off his shoes, handed Anakin his outer robes to incorporate into the nest, and climbed onto the bed. It really wasn’t a surprise he reached to Ahsoka first. Anakin had been near him the entire day, he knew nothing had happened to him, but Ahsoka had been out of his grasp and not only that, but sparring. Lightly he scented her neck, frowned in disapproval at the places where her tunics smelled like fire, nothing unusual for the aftermath of spars, but Obi-Wan still radiated disapproval. To distract his mate, Anakin gently tugged at Obi-Wans robes to get his attention. When he turned his face to him, a question in his expression, Anakin gave him a soft kiss, trying to emphasize that they were all here and safe and nobody was hurt and that everything was alright.

“I know,” Obi-Wan muttered back against Anakin’s lips and slipped his fingers beneath Anakin’s collar just so he could trace the mark there. “I know, I just-“

He sighed in frustration and dropped his head on Anakin’s shoulder.

“I really am alright, Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka too spoke up, concern coloring her voice. “I promise, nothing’s hurting. I’d tell you.”

Young as she was, and small still too, not yet taller than Anakin or Obi-Wan as Anakin knew she’d be someday. Ahsoka moved until she was curled up in-between the two of them. She had no qualms whatsoever in pushing Anakin down onto the bed until she could lie her head down on Anakin’s chest.

“We’re all good, Master,” Ahsoka said and with a yawn, closed her eyes. All that energy of before seemed to have left her. Anakin wasn’t going to protest. He could use a nap as well. Obi-Wan studied the two of them with keen eyes, before he too submitted to their demands. He laid down and pulled Ahsoka and Anakin so close that he could put his arm around the both of them. Anakin felt like he was breathing in the scent of warmth, home and safety and soon drifted off.

X

When Anakin woke, Obi-Wan was already staring at him. He didn’t look the slightest bit tired or drowsy, he must have been awake for a while then. He still hand moved his hand away from Anakin’s waist either. Glancing towards Ahsoka, Anakin saw that she at least was still sleeping soundly, her chest rising and sinking steadily.

“Why were we sleeping?” Obi-Wan whispered as to not wake Ahsoka. Then, after a pause in which he probably reevaluated all his earlier actions, “Why did I-“

Anakin couldn’t help but grin. “Do you want the long or the short answer?”

“Should I be afraid of the long answer?”

“No, not really, it just involved a lot more teasing than the short answer.”

Obi-Wan let out a long-suffering sigh. “Lay it on me.”

Taking pity on the other, Anakin decided he didn’t have to tease it all out of him. “You do remember that usually not just one half of a mated pair adopts a child?”

“Yes, obviously- oh. Oh, Force.” Obi-Wan pinched his nose. “I have to apologize to Cody. I must have been driving the poor man up the walls these last weeks.”

Anakin laughed quietly, careful not to shake Ahsoka awake. “I think he took it quite well, it’s not like he didn’t realize your paternal instincts were running haywire. I doubt there is a single trooper in your company who didn’t know.”

“So it was really only me, I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse.” Obi-Wan used his unoccupied hand to gently run his fingers over Ahsoka’s face markings. “We have a daughter then,” Obi-Wan summarized.

“Congratulations, she’s a Togruta,” Anakin joked, but quickly sobered up again.

This wasn’t what he had expected when he became a Jedi. Family and battles for what was right, yes, but not a war and a child whose survival depended on him.

“I’m terrified.” It was somehow difficult and easy at the same time to admit this. He didn’t want to speak of his fears, he should be better than that, stronger, but he also didn’t want, couldn’t, keep this a secret from Obi-Wan. They were out there fighting the war side by side for months, Ahsoka following their every step, what if his silence was the reason she was injured?

“What if she gets hurt on a mission? What if I lose her? There were so many close calls already.”

“We won’t lose her,” Obi-Wan said. He sounded a little pained. “Even just imagining it is rather counterproductive right now, but- she won’t die in this war. She has us and we’ll keep her safe.”

“But-“

“No buts,” Obi-Wan interrupted.

It occurred to Anakin that it really wasn’t fair that even now, with half his mind occupied with ensuring his mate and his child were safe, Obi-Wan could still think so rationally. It had to be that his head had cleared up a little with awareness trickling in.

“We’ll make it through it and then we’ll take a long vacation somewhere far away where I don’t have to share you two with anybody else and we can just stay like this for hours without any interruptions.”

“Careful, careful, your alpha is showing,” Anakin teased, though he couldn’t claim that the thought didn’t also sound wonderful to him.

They should go somewhere green and warm, untouched by the war and all the bloodshed.

“I am an alpha,” Obi-Wan said. “Yours in fact.”

Anakin let himself disappear in the cadence of Obi-Wan’s voice, that slightly possessive tone he had longed to hear for so long and Obi-Wan usually reigned in.

“Mine indeed,” Anakin repeated, liking the way the words lingered on his tongue as if he were saying them for the first time and there was no mark on their necks proclaiming it to the entire world.

[soopersara]

Fuse

Zutara Week 2020: Day 3

AO3 | FFN

@zutaraweek

A rainstorm separates Katara from her friends and when she takes shelter in a nearby barn, she finds Zuko already inside.

Katara liked the rain. Being surrounded by her own element so far from home and so far from a real body of water was nice. She could be perfectly at home anywhere in the world as long as there was water around.

But when it came fast enough that it dislodged her tent stakes from the ground and sent the whole tent, Katara included, rocketing down the slope, she found that she didn't exactly love the rain.

She clambered out of the mangled remains of her tent, aching from her rapid, unceremonious descent into the valley. It hadn't been her idea to pitch her tent so close to the edge. But after Toph had erected an earth tent smack in the middle of the little plateau, there was barely enough space for Sokka's tent on the upper end of the plateau and Katara's on the lower. And then a few minutes of torrential rain had been enough to send her sailing downward like her tent was some sort of flimsy raft.

Scowling, she examined what was left of the tent. The poles were snapped, and the tarp torn straight down the middle. Perfect. It was still raining as hard as ever, and her only shelter was destroyed. Grumbling, she pushed aside the poles. Her sleeping bag was still in one piece, though muddy and wet, and her pack had split down the side, but all its contents appeared to be in one piece. She spread one half of the tarp out flat and dumped her things—the sleeping bag, her clothes, her mending kit, and a few other small packages—into the center. It would be a wet, messy makeshift bag, but with her pack split open, it was the best she had.

Once she had all of her things bundled into a lumpy, dripping mass, she threw it over her shoulder. She'd have to dry everything out once she got back to camp. Sokka's tent wasn't big, but there would be enough room for her to share with him, at least until the rain stopped.

But it seemed that the rain had other plans for her. When she started up the hill, she made it only a few steps before her right foot skidded out from underneath her, and she fell backward, sliding down past the debris that used to be her tent. Ouch. Her whole right side and part of her back felt bruised, and now she was coated in thick, sticky mud to boot.

She pushed herself to her feet again. Climbing clearly wasn't going to work. Even when she tried to freeze a patch of the greasy mud, it was no easier to stand on. She'd never make it all the way back up to the top of the hill while it was raining, and she ached enough already. Even if she healed all of her bruises, it wouldn't do much good if she made it halfway up the hill only to slide back down to the bottom anyway.

Katara bent some of the mud out of her clothes, rain still pelting down on her. Shelter. She had to find shelter somewhere down in the valley to wait out the storm.

And when she looked around, she thought she could make out a distant cluster of buildings through the grayish haze. That would have to do.

Her feet slid through the mud, and thick, slimy clumps of it stuck to the bottoms of her boots, but she slogged on ahead. Cleaning herself up while she was still out in the rain wouldn't help. Nor would bending the rain away from her head. Or mending her bruised and aching limbs. All of that would take energy, and she couldn't afford to spare any until she was inside, out of the rain.

As she drew nearer, the buildings took shape into a farm. She could make out a barn, and a few pens full of moosows and pig deer, and a turkeychicken hutch. She made for the barn. There was probably a house somewhere around here too, a house with people who would be more than willing to let her in—but it was wet and cold, and the rain couldn't last too much longer. There was no use in bothering the people if she would only be here an hour or two. At least she hoped that it would only be an hour or two.

The doors were huge and heavy, and Katara's feet slipped when she tried to pull them open. She grumbled, planted her mud-encrusted boots more firmly, and managed to haul one of them open by a few inches. Good enough. She shoved her makeshift bag through the opening first, then squeezed in after it, wincing when her bruised side bumped against the rough wood. She got wedged in halfway through the opening, and with a grunt of effort, pushed against the wall with all her might until she toppled through the space and the door swung open after her.

Ouch. She hauled herself back to her feet and glared at the now-open door. Perfect. That was typical for today.

But she was inside, finally, and when she bent the water out of her clothes—unfortunately, the mud was so caked into the fabric that she couldn't do much about that—she stayed dry. She crouched to untie her makeshift bag when she heard a footstep behind her, and spun around to see a pair of swords aimed her direction.

"Who are you, and what do you think you're doing here?"

She blinked into the dark interior of the barn. She thought she knew that voice, the harsh, gravelly tone—and then the swords lowered a fraction, and she could make out a pale, pinched face and a huge crimson scar over the left eye.

"Zuko?"

⁂

It took a second for him to recognize the waterbender in the semi-darkness. Though she'd apparently done her best to dry herself off, she was practically coated in mud, her usual braid was—there, but falling apart so badly that it looked more like a disheveled broom than anything else, and she looked much smaller, much less threatening when she was crouched down and not wielding ropes of water.

But then she sprang to her feet, summoning blobs of water to both hands, and recognition landed heavy over him. That was her. That was definitely her.

Of all the rotten luck in the world, Zuko's had to be the worst. It wasn't bad enough that he was crossing an enemy nation alone, practically without supplies and without any way of supporting himself short of stealing. He had no money left, he couldn't convince himself to steal food from families, and to add insult to injury, the Earth Kingdom soldiers had stolen the few meager supplies he'd managed to buy.

Then that little boy had taken Zuko home, and it should have been a bright spot in an otherwise terrible week, but instead, the heaviest rainstorm in months had rolled in overnight, and Zuko was all but stranded in the barn without food, and now—now—

"What are you doing here?" the waterbender demanded.

Zuko let his swords drop a bit. Was he imagining things? He was fairly certain he'd just asked her the same question.

"This is the Earth Kingdom, you don't belong here."

He raised his good eyebrow. "I could say the same for you, waterbender."

She gave an incoherent yell of rage, drawing more water from the deluge outside, encasing her arms with it. "I'm not the enemy. You are. What are you doing here?"

"This is my barn!" Even before the words came out, they felt wrong, and Zuko stopped himself. "I mean, I'm staying here. I don't have a barn."

The waterbender cocked her head to the side, looking just as confused as he felt. "You—you're—" She shook her head and strengthened her stance. "You don't belong here, Zuko. Leave, or I'll find the farmers and tell them that they have a squatter hiding in their barn."

He threw his hands up. The dramatic gesture probably wasn't the best idea with swords still in his hands, he realized when one of the blades smacked into an overhead beam and knocked a cloud of dust down on his head. He coughed and fanned at the air.

"The farmers invited me to stay," he rasped when the dust cleared. "If anyone's a squatter, it's you."

"What?" The waterbender's stance slackened, and Zuko noticed that her right arm moved a little slower, a little stiffer than the left. "Why? Why would they invite you to stay?"

Frankly, Zuko was still wondering the same thing himself. Sure, their son had vouched for him after he'd lied to keep the boy out of trouble, but that was nothing. Certainly not enough to justify giving a ragged drifter like himself a place to sleep. He shrugged. "I helped their kid or something. I don't know. I thought they were going to throw me out last night, but they didn't, so—I'm here."

"How did you help their kid?" She still held her murky globes of water, but her stance looked less fight-ready than before.

Zuko wasn't exactly braced up to fight either, he realized. Aside from the swords in his hands, he was just—standing.

"I saw the kid play a prank on a couple of thugs. I lied to the thugs about what happened."

The waterbender narrowed her eyes at him. For a long moment, he stared back. He didn't owe her any further explanation. He had permission to be here. She didn't. Granted, the family didn't know who he was, but Zuko wouldn't stay long. He couldn't expect more than what they'd already given him, and once the rain passed, he'd leave. But for now, while the storm raged on, he had at least as much right to be here as she did.

Finally, the waterbender spoke again. "Are you going to attack me?"

He huffed. "Depends. Are you going to attack me?"

She didn't quite ease out of her stance, but he watched her waver. She jutted out her chin. "I'm not going back outside in this storm."

He didn't exactly want her to stay—he had enough problems without the waterbender there to rub it in, and he didn't care for company, especially when there was a chance that he'd have to explain her presence to the Earth Kingdom family—but over her shoulder, he could see the rain still coming so hard that the whole world was gray and indistinct. And the waterbender looked miserable. Zuko was many things, but he wasn't a monster.

"I didn't tell you to." He sheathed his swords and crossed his arms.

She shifted, and slowly lowered her hands. "I've got my eye on you," she said, and edged around her pile of supplies, and crouched again, still watching him.

Zuko shook his head. He didn't have the energy to deal with her right now. As miserable as she looked, he didn't feel much better. The rain had started in the night, and since he was staying in the barn, there were no supplies he could find without venturing out into the storm. So he hadn't eaten yet this morning. That made—four days? Almost four days. One bowl of soup in the midafternoon and a scant meal yesterday evening hardly made up for the three days he'd gone without food before, and now his stomach was beginning to cramp again.

He should have moved on already. This family couldn't afford to feed another mouth, and Zuko wouldn't find any better prospects until he left the arid plains behind. Maybe if he'd braved the rain, he could have gotten ahead of the storm and pushed his ostrich horse hard enough to reach richer lands in a few days. Maybe he could already be partway to—wherever he was going. If he knew where that was.

Or maybe he'd just be lost and dripping wet with no more idea of where to go than he had now.

Zuko slumped back into the mound of hay. The waterbender was lucky. At least she had somewhere to go.

He stared up at the rafters, watching from the corner of his eye as the waterbender pulled the moisture out of her supplies and sent it out the door in a smooth, neat wave. She gave a little gasp, and Zuko looked her way again to see her wince and rub her right shoulder.

He shouldn't care. He didn't. He couldn't care about—her.

"What happened?" he asked involuntarily.

She scowled across the barn at him. "I got caught in a rainstorm."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well then you're going to have to be more specific. A lot of things have happened." She tried to kneel and winced again, then settled for resting her weight on her left side.

Zuko sighed and sat up. "Why are you here? Aren't you travelling with the Avatar?"

The waterbender paused in the middle of picking through her things to fix him with a stare. "I am. And I'm not telling you where he is."

That had barely even occurred to him. He was too tired, too hungry, too lost to even consider capturing the Avatar. He wasn't sure he could keep himself alive out here, much less haul the Avatar back to the coast, hire a boat, and—Zuko shook himself. Not now. He couldn't do any of that right now.

"I meant," he amended, "How did you get separated?"

She and her friends had always seemed inseparable, like they actually—actually cared about each other. He swallowed back a pang of envy. Zuko didn't need anyone like that. He was fine on his own.

The waterbender made a face. "An earthbender was a jerk, I set my tent in a bad place, then it rained and my tent tried to find out what it felt like to be a raft." She turned over a small package bound in some type of skin and pulled at the twine holding it shut. "I was at the bottom of the valley before I knew what was happening."

That certainly explained the wincing. The hills around the farm weren't exactly small or gradual. It was a wonder that she wasn't more seriously hurt.

"Uggghhhhhhhh." She let the little package fall open and dropped her head into her hands.

"What?" Zuko pushed himself to his feet again. "What happened?"

She pinched the soggy package by the corner. "My brother didn't close the package after he stole some of my seal jerky."

Oh. Zuko had never eaten seal jerky before, he had no idea what it tasted like, or even if it was worth eating, but his stomach clenched. The thought of food—any food—was almost too much to bear.

The waterbender frowned and passed a hand over her food. A few murky-looking droplets came out, but her expression didn't look any more cheerful than before.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I don't suppose you have any food?"

Zuko looked away, feeling his own forehead crease. He folded his arms over his empty, complaining stomach. "No."

"Do you want some wet seal jerky before it spoils?"

⁂

Zuko looked at her like she'd grown an extra head. Hey. That was rude. She was offering him some of her extremely limited food supply, and he had the nerve to make faces at her because it wasn't entirely appetizing. She didn't want to eat wet jerky either, but it was the only food either of them had, and she couldn't pull out any more of the moisture. For now, it would be edible, but in another day, it might start to mold or worse. What good would it do to let most of her food spoil when she could share it now?

But if he didn't want it, if he was too proud to share what little food she had, then—then he'd just have to stay hungry.

She scowled at him. "Fine. If it's not good enough for your refined palate, I'll just let the other half go bad. Or maybe the moosows will want a treat when the storm is over."

Zuko's good eyebrow drew downward. He looked—dejected? Almost? Not for the first time, she was struck by how thin his face had become, by the dark rings around his eyes. Or eye. The scarred one looked as normal as it ever did.

"I—" He shook his head and his arms seemed to clamp tighter around his stomach. "If that's what you want to do, fine. See if I care."

Judging by the tension in his voice and the way his shoulders drew up around his ears, he cared a lot. Not that Katara was going to let that change anything. If he was going to be a jerk, she'd be a jerk right back at him.

Zuko stomped back to his pile of hay and slumped into it again, turning his back on her, and curled inward.

Katara poked the soggy mess of jerky and made a face at it. She was hungry, but not that hungry yet. Not hungry enough to eat mushy, soaked jerky. When she found her way back to the others, Sokka was going to get such a lecture about stealing her food and how to close things properly. Maybe if he'd kept his nose out of her stuff or at least closed it when he was through, she wouldn't be here, in a barn, still damp and aching from her unceremonious descent from the top of the hill with no food worth eating and Prince Zuko of all people.

"Why are you even here?" she asked sharply. "Aren't you supposed to be off with your uncle and the rest of your Fire Nation friends?"

Zuko shook his head but didn't turn back toward her.

"What, did they leave you behind?"

That earned her a scowl, but he turned his head away again. "Partly."

Katara stopped. Despite the scowl, he didn't sound particularly angry. "How do you get partly left behind?"

"The Fire Nation tried to take me and my uncle back as prisoners, then left us for dead. Then I left my uncle." He peered back over his shoulder for a second. "It's not complicated."

Easy for him to say. It sounded very complicated to Katara. She pushed herself to her feet, wincing when she put her weight on her bruised leg.

"How long have you been alone?" The question surprised her as it came out, but she decided not to correct herself.

"A week?" His tone was uncertain, and he looked up into the rafters. "Maybe more."

A week. Katara had never been alone that long. Sometimes two or three nights without Sokka when he went hunting back home, but Gran-Gran had always been there. And since leaving home, she'd been surrounded by strangers, but she'd never gone more than one night without Sokka or Aang nearby.

"Do you like being alone?"

Zuko rolled onto his back, his forehead creasing as he stared upward. "I thought I would. But it's—when it's quiet, it's a lot harder to forget that there's nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep." He looked toward the package of ruined jerky by her feet, then dragged his gaze away and set his jaw.

Huh. She watched his fists clench against his stomach. He was hungry. So maybe he wasn't being snobbish about the jerky. Maybe he was just too stubborn to admit that he needed something to eat.

She shifted her weight, and her entire bruised right side protested against the motion. With a pained gasp, she dropped to the ground.

"Waterbender?" Zuko bolted up.

Katara sat clutching her sore leg and glared at him. "Waterbender? Seriously?"

He ignored that and came a little closer, then stopped a few paces away. "Are—uh—are you hurt?"

She grimaced and pulled up the hem of her pants a bit. The bruises on her ankle were impressive. She didn't want to know how the rest looked, especially considering how much worse the ones on her hip and her shoulder felt.

"I think it's safe to say yes." Great. She had really been hoping that she could get away without healing them, without expending the precious energy to mend a few bumps. She summoned fresh rainwater in through the door and held the glowing bulge of water against her shoulder until the ache subsided.

Zuko's eyes went wide. "What are you doing?"

"Healing myself." She frowned in concentration as she worked her way down her arm, clearing the bruises one after another. Just as she'd feared, she could feel the effort draining her energy. Less sore or not, she'd have a much harder time fighting in this state if he decided to attack her.

"Can you do that?"

She waved her now-healed hand through the air. "What does it look like?" Starting on her ankle, she snuck a look up at Zuko. Waterbender. Was that really how he thought of her? "Can't you remember names?"

He flushed. "I—yes, I can remember names. But I was taught manners, and it's rude to speak on familiar terms without permission."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. What's my name, then?"

"You're—" he scratched the back of his neck. "You're Katara. I think."

She snuck another glance at him. He was crimson clear back to his ears, and he wouldn't look directly at her.

"Lucky guess," she said, then pulled the excess water away from her leg and tossed it back out the door. Patches of her back still ached almost worse than her shoulder had, but she couldn't reach that far back, and all the other bruises had stopped hurting. Whether they were healed enough to not be visible, she couldn't tell, and she wasn't about to check, not with Zuko standing there. Besides, she was tired now. Tired and hungry. She looked down at the soggy jerky again. It didn't look any more appetizing than it had before.

"Do you want me to use your name?" Zuko asked.

She considered. It sounded strange on his lips. It felt strange to hear him call her by her name. They weren't close, and they weren't going to be. Still— "It's better than waterbender." She peered up at him. "Do you want me to use your name?"

He started. "I—I don't know." He shifted, looking down at his feet. "I can't really use my name here. I was calling myself 'Lee', but then the kid I helped was named Lee too, and—" he shrugged helplessly. "I didn't know what to call myself, so I didn't."

A surprised laugh escaped her. "You didn't come up with a new name?"

Zuko shook his head. "I'm not very good at lying."

That seemed—not entirely untrue, actually. He'd done plenty of terrible things, and Katara wouldn't trick herself into believing that he'd never lied to her, but lying was the least of her concerns when it came to Zuko.

"Then I guess I'll just call you Zuko when no one else is around. Deal?"

He nodded, and Katara gave just a hint of a smile before she looked down again. She heaved a sigh and poked at the jerky. "Any ideas on how to make wet jerky less gross? I doubt you want to eat it like this either."

Zuko froze, and his mouth opened and closed. "Me? Uh—what about me?"

Katara tilted her head a bit to the side. "You're hungry too, aren't you?"

"I—"

"Well, all of my food is going to go bad. I really don't see any reason why I should let that happen when there's enough here for both of us."

Zuko stared for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Are you sure?"

She paused only a second before she nodded. It felt right, somehow. Gran-Gran had always taught her not to waste food and to always feed hungry strangers, and Katara had always done her best to stick to that rule. Zuko wasn't exactly a stranger, and he was hardly a friend, but he was hungry. And if he didn't eat with her, the food would be wasted.

Something told her that Gran-Gran might object to that argument, but Katara pushed the thought aside. They were in the Earth Kingdom, so far from any of Zuko's allies that there was nothing he could really do. He couldn't even use his own name safely, and if he was smart, he had to know that firebending out here would be a death sentence. If anything, he was in more danger than she was. And if less-hungry Zuko was also a bit less moody, the risks of sharing food with him seemed more than worthwhile.

"If you can figure out a way to get rid of the sogginess, I'll even let you pick your share. I can't get any more water out of it with my bending."

He took a small step closer and squinted at the mound of jerky.

Katara pushed it closer so he could see without closing the space between them too much.

Zuko scratched the back of his neck. "Maybe if we cooked it?" he offered doubtfully. "As long as no one's around, I could start a fire—"

"The barn looks a little too flammable for that." Even with rainwater seeping in through some of the cracks in the walls, the wood was old and dry as tinder. The hay was dry too. If a spark caught any of it, the storm would extinguish the blaze, but not before the barn collapsed in on them.

"Right. Uh—" He looked around the barn, then drew a slow breath. "Maybe if I just—" He cupped his hands together and a small flame appeared, hovering just over his palms.

For a while, Katara just stared at the fire. She'd never seen firebending quite like this before, quiet and contained, more warm than dangerous. It was odd. In a way, she almost liked it.

She finally dragged her eyes away and met Zuko's gaze, the angles of his face sharpened by the firelight. "Can you hold that for very long?"

He shrugged. "Probably. I've never had to hold a flame for more than a few minutes, but I'm sure I can. It's like meditating."

⁂

It was unlike anything Zuko had ever attempted before. He could hold a flame in his hands, he could use his bending to heat a pot or to boil water, but he'd never tried to hold a cooking fire steady without fuel, maintaining the perfect amount of heat so as not to burn the food or to cook it too slowly. It wasn't easy, and a part of him wished that he'd paid more attention to how Uncle warmed water for tea. The precision, the concentration, the patience it took tested his limits.

But he sat crossed-legged on the ground across from Katara, holding the fire in his hands while she threaded the bits of jerky onto a stick, then roasted them over the flames until they were hot and crackling. His mouth began watering the moment the scent reached him, but he tried not to pay attention to that. Keeping his breathing steady, he stared at his own flames, channeling just enough energy into them to keep the heat even.

He lost track of time, but finally, finally, Katara touched his wrist.

"That's enough. They're all finished."

Zuko exhaled, the flames dissipating, and he leaned back on his hands. He felt as though he'd just finished a fight or a particularly demanding training session. Though he hadn't used his firebending in days and the pent-up energy had been desperate to claw its way out, sustaining the cooking fire drained him more than he'd expected. If his stomach weren't cramping, desperate for food, he'd crawl back into his pile of hay to sleep.

Katara slid the bits of re-cooked jerky into a little mound on their wrapping, then poked them into two separate steaming piles with her makeshift roasting spit.

"Pick your half."

Zuko straightened and blinked, disbelieving, at the mounds of food. They were almost exactly the same. He'd expected her to eat her fill, then leave whatever she didn't want for him, not—this.

"I thought—" He paused and shook his head. "I thought you were going to do that."

"That's not the fair way to share food," Katara answered, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The person who divides it up always gets last pick. My Gran-Gran taught me that."

It made sense, in an odd sort of way. In Zuko's experience, people were never that dedicated to fairness—or at all—but in a better world, a nicer world, it would make sense.

Tentatively, he pointed to the mound on the left, and Katara pushed it his way without argument.

He hesitated over the food for a few seconds—he knew better than to accept food, or help of any kind, for that matter, from an enemy—but then his hunger won out against the hesitation. The jerky was tough, and it tasted of salt and smoke, unusual to his tastes, but not entirely unpleasant. Most importantly, it was filling. A few bites took the edge off of his hunger, and by the time he was done, Zuko was really, properly full for the first time in days.

Katara finished her last bite a little behind him and washed it down with a long drink from her waterskin.

"Thank you," Zuko blurted out. "You didn't have to share the rest of your food with me, and I just—thanks."

She shrugged and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. "Technically, you didn't have to let me stay out of the rain here either. I think we're even."

He looked down. It was true, he supposed. He could have tossed her back out into the storm. He had permission to be here, and he could have easily used that to push her out. But in a storm like this—no, he wouldn't do that. Uncle would be ashamed if he had. Of course, Uncle would be ashamed of him for plenty of other things, but Zuko had to stop somewhere. There had to be a line he wouldn't cross, and this seemed as good a point as any.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked. "With all of your food gone—"

Katara let out a slow sigh and turned to stare out the door and into the rain. "My friends aren't too far away. When the rain stops, I'll find them. They have plenty of food." She stopped, studying him. "And you?"

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know. I guess—I'll probably keep going east. It's supposed to be a lot nicer once you get past the desert. Maybe then it'll be easier to find food." He stared down at the darkened patch where the cooked jerky had left a stain on the skin wrapping. Part of him wished that he'd been able to save some of it for later. With no money, no way of finding his own food, spirits only knew when he'd have another meal. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd be able to eat one more time before he left the farm behind, but after that—

She watched him, her blue gaze unusually soft. "Maybe you'll find your uncle."

He met her eyes for a second. He hoped so. He hoped that Uncle would want him back. Travelling alone was nothing like he'd expected, and even with all the annoyance and frustration that came with the old man's quirks and the extra effort it took to keep the two of them fed, he'd rather be with Uncle again.

"Maybe." He looked away again and cleared his throat. "Uh, since the rain isn't stopping, I think I'm going to try to sleep." His hands clenched on the hem of his tunic, then slowly loosened again. He ought to know better than to let his guard down. He ought to know better than to sleep while the enemy was so near, but looking at Katara now, he didn't see an enemy anymore. Not quite. Not the way he used to. Katara was tired and disheveled, and she could probably still fight him—she could probably still win—but she'd shared her food with him. If she meant him any harm, she wouldn't have bothered. And frankly, Zuko didn't have the energy to keep watch anyway.

"The hay is more comfortable than the ground, so—if you want, you can have that spot."

Katara tilted her head, then looked around him toward the mound of hay. "No, that's fine. I have my sleeping bag."

Zuko nodded and pushed himself awkwardly to his feet. "Okay."

He could feel Katara's eyes on his back as he retreated to the haystack again and settled into the scratchy makeshift bed. But he couldn't sleep and found himself watching her as she spread out her sleeping bag, made one last attempt to pull out the moisture, and started to climb inside. She winced when her back touched the ground, then rolled onto her side, and met Zuko's eyes.

His face warmed. No point in pretending he hadn't been watching her. "Are you okay?" he rasped.

She shrugged one shoulder. "Fine. I guess I still have some bruises left that I couldn't reach." She started to roll onto her back again, winced, and turned her face back toward Zuko again.

"Heat might help," he offered before he had a chance to think.

Katara blinked at him. "It might," she replied slowly. "Are you just saying that, or—"

His face was flaming. "Depends."

"On what?"

He picked at a particularly pointy bit of hay. "If you trust me enough to let me try to help."

For a long moment, Katara stared at him. She shouldn't trust him. It wouldn't make sense for her to take a chance like that. But finally, after an uncomfortably long silence, she sat up and wiggled her way out of her sleeping bag. Draping it over her arm, she crossed over to the haystack and hovered a few steps away.

"Maybe just this once."

[sylvain-writes]

Guarded Hearts and Safe Houses (Leonardo x Reader) Chapter 6/9

Rated: T

Gender Neutral Reader, canon typical violence/injury, light angst, strangers to lovers, supportive family.

for @melodiousmelodrama

Maybe Mikey should have called ahead to say you were coming down. Maybe you should have asked permission from Leo, their appointed leader, to enter their new home. But Mikey invited you and you hadn’t heard from Leo in almost two weeks. Maybe Leo shouldn’t be shutting you out when all you’ve ever done is be there to help.

The platform looks great. Donnie’s setup spans the entire western wall. You think he must run himself tired going up and down the line, but the skateboard under his feet helps him make it a quick and easy ride from one end of his work station to the other.

“Raph’s down there, probably.” Mikey waves down the tracks. “Streets have been kinda quiet. It makes him uneasy. 'specially when we know the Krang are out there, but we can’t find ‘em.”

“Dare I ask about-”

“Leo? Heh. He’s probably training. Sensei has him working on finding balance." Mikey walks the rail with ease, one foot in front of the other. "You see, Leo’s been all kinds of bent outta shape since he walked out on you.”

“Leo didn’t walk out on anybody, Mikey,” you say with a frown.

With a leap, he turns to you. “Anyway! Leo’s been having some trouble focusing so… he’s in the ha'shi.”

You let Mikey lead the way up the opposite end of the platform until you hear a stern voice barking commands. “Find your center, Leonardo. Strength, speed, stealth… these are things that can waver, can fail, and still you keep focus on your path.”

“Yes, Master Splinter.”

You watch, with Mikey, from the edge of the small room. It must have been designated for another track, but it’s far more run down than the one Leo chose for his family.

Leonardo’s muscles strain and tremble as he holds himself on the ropes suspended overhead. His twin swords cut through the air like a dance.

“He’s really something else.”

“Huh?” Raphael comes up behind you smelling every bit as bad as Mikey promised he would. “Oh, yeah, he’s a real piece o’ work.”

Raphael raises his voice as he claps for his brother, “Good work, Leo! Nice form, brutha! Dropping that left still, but you’re comin’ around!”

All the cajoling doesn’t break Leonardo’s focus for an instant.

“I wonder if he even notices I’m here,” you say to no one.

“You ain’t said Hi to our guest yet? Come on, man, we raised you betta than that, Leo!”

Leo does a double take at his brothers, at you standing between them, and loses concentration. All it takes is one instant of distraction to have him falling from the ropes onto his shell.

“Ha ha!” Raph and Mikey bump fists.

Seeing they made Leo fall, you figure Splinter is going to have it out for the younger turtles, but the sensei's frustration is focused on Leo alone. “You mustn’t be so easily distracted, Leonardo. Clear your mind.”

Leo sits up and shakes off the shock of impact.

Splinter follows Leo’s line of sight to you. “This is the cause of your distraction? Of your failures? This human?”

You don’t think you should be insulted. You’re the outsider here. And if what Splinter is saying is true, then you’re dangerous. You’re dangerous if your presence means Leo’s unfocused, if it means that Leo has been making mistakes.

You swallow hard and bite your tongue and wait for Leonardo to say something. To stand up for you, to throw you under the bus. To say anything that would give you a clue as to how to respond.

“You. You.” Splinter points his gnarled staff from you to Leonardo and then raps it against the cement at his feet. “Speak. Communication. Trust. Honor.”

You think there will be more. More explanation. More reprimand. But Splinter taps his staff against the floor again, and then he’s gone. You think he walks out. You’re pretty sure he walks out. He can’t just disappear. Can he?

Your eyes are drawn back to Leo at the sound of him shuffling on the straw mat. “He’s right," you say, wishing you didn't have to. "If I’m a distraction, I should stay out of your way.”

Leo rubs his shell as he stands. “Then why did you come?”

“Mikey… he-”

“Mikey? Of course it was. Of course it was Mikey, or Donnie, or Raph.”

There's an accusation in his words. It fans your frustration with him into anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Leo huffs, throws up his hands, and gathers up his katanas from the ground.

“You’re never around, Leo. They look out for me and my family. They kept their promise to look after us.”

Leo's eyes are piercing. He sheaths his swords at his back without dropping his gaze. “I kept my promise.”

“Then where have you been?”

“I stayed away. The Krang is looking for me. I’m not going to lead them back to you. Not again." Squaring his shoulders, Leo faces you head on. His words are stiff. But he places a hand over his heart, and you remember the soft warmth of that hand under yours.  "I swore I would protect your family, on my honor. And I am doing that. By staying away, by keeping my brothers close. But you…”

“Me? What about me? I’ve offered you everything. And you pushed me away." That day on the mat, when everything was broken but Leo held you close, feels like it was a lifetime ago. "So, what? You’re mad that I made friends with your brothers? They were there, Leo.”

Leo wrings his hands in front of him as he begins walking forward and back. When his paces draw him near, you can see the tightness in his jaw, the flush of his cheeks, the shine of unshed tears in his eyes. “Mikey’s been upset since we came down here. I thought it was just the move, but it was more than that… He opened up to you.”

“And you’re mad?”

“He opened up to you! You’re a stranger!” No, it isn’t anger in his voice.

“I’m a friend,” you say softer. “To them and I thought to you too.”

“I’m their brother. Their leader.: He presses his lips together and you think, maybe, his chin is trembling. You think, maybe, there is sadness in his wavering tone. “They're supposed to come to me. I’m supposed to see when they need me.”

“Sometimes people need a friend though. To talk to someone outside of the family, someone who isn’t their older brother.” After that moment in the old dojo, Leo must understand what it is to hide. “Mikey didn’t go to you because... he can see you’re doing the best you can. That you’re trying so hard to hold it all together. Didn’t want to seem ungrateful.”

"You don't know us like that. You don't get to have us like that. He's my brother. My responsibility."

Raising a hand to hold his, to comfort him like the night when the Lair was destroyed, you come forward. "You take on so much, Leo."

But he considers your outstretched hand with a hard stare. "No. You think you know me. You're too familiar. You saw what you shouldn't have seen."

"It's not a weakness to need someone sometimes."

"I don't need you. We don't need you."

You stare at Leo and let what he says really sink in, for him and for you. Your parents taught you to notice when someone is hurting. They instilled it in you to help when you can. But you won’t stay where you’re unwanted.

With a nod you acknowledge Leo’s rejection. Though his words expressed his wish to be left alone, he pales as you take a step back. He inhales a sharp breath as you withdraw your support. But when you walk away, he doesn’t ask you to stay.

Splinter waits for you at the edge of the mat, staff in hand, scowl in place.

“He doesn’t want to talk,” you say. You’re tired. You’re tired of giving yourself and being cast aside.

Splinter’s voice is deep and broken. “Then make him listen.”

You turn. And without taking any steps toward Leo, you raise your voice to grab his attention. "I'm going to help Mikey with his room. He misses Raph. That's the big secret. He isn't used to having his own room and he isn't sleeping through the day.” Leo doesn’t even look up. Too focused on polishing his swords.

You sigh before continuing, hoping he’ll listen. “He's hurting, not because you did anything wrong or because he's mad at anything you did. He's just having a hard time with the transition. If Raph agrees, we're gonna make windows between them so when Mikey needs to, they can hear each other."

At that, Leo pauses his work. "They'll keep each other up. Pick on each other until I come down on them."

"Is that what they used to have?"

Leo wipes his blades with a cloth and shrugs.

"Then maybe that's what they need, for now."

Leo’s quiet for a long while. You consider leaving, but something in your gut tugs you to go over to him instead.

He still hasn’t lifted his gaze, when he grumbles, "How did you get so smart?"

Your self-deprecating laugh comes out in huff. "I'm not.” You remember that night on the roof, when you should have run, but moved closer to the action instead. “I saw a fight between mutants and an alien and got caught. I'm reckless."

Leo offers the barest shake of his head. "You saw Mikey was hurt. You stuck your neck out for us.” There’s a glance where your eyes meet and you forget to breathe. “You got a big heart."

Your response is a whisper. "Right back at ya.”

There's a pause, a quiet. When Leo's cloth runs down the blade again, it doesn't feel like he’s putting on a show. Doesn’t feel like he’s trying to ignore or dismiss your company. It's routine. He's caring for his blades and you're there with him.

You take a seat on the mat and pick at the laces on your shoe. "Heart's not a bad thing, y'know. Loving your family, it's what drives you. I've always admired that about you."

"My family needs me. I have to think with my head, not my heart.” And just like that, Leo’s starts building his walls of defense, brick by brick. “I've seen what thinking with one's heart can do to a person. Passion clouds the mind.”

Leo rolls his shoulders, focuses on his task as he strengthens his resolve. "I fight because to walk away would be cowardly and shameful. It would bring dishonor to my family.” You wonder if those are his true beliefs or if they’re ones drilled into him by his father. “I fight because I am able. I am strong where others are vulnerable."

It breaks your heart to hear him pit strength and vulnerability against each other, as if they are mutually exclusive. "A reed before the wind lives on, while mighty oaks do fall.”

Leo gives only a hum in reply.

“It's ok to be vulnerable every once in a while. Better to bend than break.” You move closer to him as he oils the pommel. “Leo, you used to let me see you. Really see you. What changed?"

You place your hand on his blade and push it away with easy pressure. "Leo."

He lays the sword and cloth on the floor and looks at you with open palms. "I don't know if I can be both."

"Both?"

There’s a different kind of tension in his shoulders. Not the kind that he wears when he’s closing himself off, but the kind he wears when he’s trying to open himself up. "I don't know if I can be the man who teases you into getting hearing aids and still be the leader my brother's need in a fight."

The corner of your mouth lifts in an easy smile. "Leo,” you say, relief and affection moving through you like a wave, “you'll never be the tease. You'll always be the one pretending not to listen.” His frown twitches, and you take his hand. “But you'll hear me."

"How do you know?"

"Because you heard me all the other times. When I asked you to let my family help yours. When I asked for your trust. When I asked you to trust your brothers with the new Lair. You listened now, when I told you about Mikey."

Leo takes your hand in his and draws you to your feet. He pulls you in until you're standing close enough to hear his breath. "I'm supposed to look after my family."

"And maybe sometimes you can let me look after you."

Leo's expression turns soft. His eyes lose the last remnants of their walls and his head tilts as he assesses the sincerity in your voice.

“You came into our world and turned it upside down,” he says. “I don’t know if I can.”

Despite his words, Leo inches closer. His hands slide up your arms to your elbows. His fingers curl around your arms as he takes a trembling breath.

Your hand rises to his chest. Pauses over his heart before it moves to his cheek, briefly brushing the edge of his frown. “It’s OK… if you don’t need me. But if you do-”

You’re hushed by the feeling of Leo’s thumb caressing your cheek. You’re stilled by the sensation of his hand smoothing down your hair. “If I do,” he says, waiting for you to fill in the rest.

“Then I’m right here.”

The quiet spell is broken when Donatello rushes into the gym, skidding to a stop at the edge of the mat.

Leo pulls away from you quickly and strides to his brother, ready to take a report. “Sitrep, Donnie.”

“The-the-the Krang. Leo, they’ve hit the city. Leo, they… they…” His gaze locks on you before his face twists to a mournful scowl. “They must have known we’ve been getting help from humans. The apartment was attacked.”

[aloesarchives]

Dad Headcanons (Wakatsuki & Gaolang)

Word Count: 3998 words

Featuring these two men because they’re only ones that I can think of that like the idea of being a dad but and write a lot for them.

(A/N): I had to put in default names because when writing this I had a hard time writing without giving names to the kids since I kinda gave them a personality and stuff.

Gaolang

You two have a daughter and a son who are three years apart, Lawana and Kiet.

Since he’s an ideal house husband, being a good dad isn’t out of the question.

Gaolang is different around his kids well like, not really, but it’s pretty obvious to you. He smiles so much more when he holds them, talks to them a little more when they ask him something, comforting them when they have nightmares. His stoic facade is gone and it’s emotionally more expression Gaolang.

There is this tenderness he has when he’s with his kids. The soft look in his eyes and the gentle aura is enough to tell you that he really cares for his kids.

Gaolang isn’t really an overbearing parent but he’s always keeps an eye out for his kids and looking out for them.

Gaolang is pretty chill parent. Strict isn’t the right word for him though, but will be authoritative to his kids when things happens. Not yelling and full on rage, he just knows how to put it in the manner that his children will get the message. I’m guessing Gaolang’s aura but idk.

Yeah, between the two of you, he is the disciplinary one. Again, no hitting of any sort or negative reinforcements, but Gaolang knows how to talks to his kiddos when they done something wrong/or stepped far over the line.

It’s a given that you and your kids watch Gaolang’s boxing matches. There’s no if or buts, you never miss any of his matches because your daughter and son would always remind you to turn on the tv and watch him fight. Gosh, the look of awe and amazement in their eyes makes you smile so genuine. They love rooting for their papa whose fighting in the right. When Gaolang does his flash, the kiddos squeal with excitement. More so, when Gaolang wins his matches, your kids are jumping for joy and chanting their happiness on their papa’s win.

Lawana: Mama, Mama, Mama!!! Did you see that?!? Papa won, Papa won!

(Y/N): Yes, sweetie, Papa indeed won.

Kiet: Woah, Papa is so cool! Look how he hit the guy in the face and he hit the ground with a BAM!

(Y/N): *chuckles* Isn’t your Papa amazing, you two?

Lawana & Kiet: YEAH!!!

When Gaolang gets back from being abroad, he is off for a few days and stays home to which you let him sleep in the morning due to his jet lag. During those time, your kids stumble into your room and climb onto the bed to wake the two of you up. You’re always awake first since your sleep schedule isn’t as messed up as Gaolang’s and gently tell Lawana and Kiet to let their dad sleep some more. Surprising enough, your kids behave and not bother Gaolang when he’s sleeping.

Gaolang is that type of parent that teaches his kids life lesson in any shape or form at any given time. Not like the bs type of try hard quirky quotes 14 yr old girls would say, he teaches them that aren’t opposites of each other. It’s the more simple one that he teaches them at a young age but gives out more complex ones as they get older. They learn a lot what your husband says and have so many epiphanies growing and experiencing life as it goes. The two will thank their dad (and you, don’t worry) later on for teaching those life lessons/ passing down some simple wisdom.

I would like to propose a headcanon that Gaolang gets souvenirs for them kiddos. He gets them stuff animals and small gifts when he’s put abroad. Your kids have a lot of stuff animals. Your daughter has this cute elephant she carries around and your son has a dragon he got while he’s in Japan. Since it’s from Gaolang, they always are holding it with them every time they’re in the house. It never leaves them because they love it so much.

Gaolang likes to carry his kids around in his arms. His absolute favorite moment when he comes home from work/abroad and your kids running towards him with you trailing behind them. He then smiles at his children and scoops them up in his arms as they hug him and tell him that they’re happy he’s home. Gaolang loves these moments. Sometimes when he’s awake in the morning and one of your kids is somehow up, he’ll hold them in one arm while fixing coffee(if you drink it) and breakfast. But it’s evident when they love being held by Gaolang because they would get fussy when Gaolang leaves them for a few seconds before being placed back into his arms again when they were really small.

Lawana is daddy’s little girl. Gaolang have no favorites between the two but since Lawana is older by three years, she does have a closer relationship to Gaolang than Kiet does. But this is because ever since you had Lawana, she’s always with Gaolang. Well wants to be, anyway. When she was little, he also followed Gaolang around the house whenever he’s home, minus when he needs to use the bathroom and she just hangs out with you until he comes out. Oh my god, when Gaolang has to go to work, she doesn’t want him to leave. She always is tugging at his pants and saying he shouldn’t leave because then you and her would be left alone. Then it’s up to Gaolang to gently tell her that has work to do and will be back later. Once Gaolang leaves for work, she gets pouty for a bit and you have to comfort her and said that Gaolang will always come back home. She gets over this as she grow older and only gets happy when he returns.

Kiet is more of a momma’s boy but still has a good relationship with his Gaolang. They get along pretty well because they’re both silent and don’t talk so much. They have this thing where they just stare at each other but you can tell that they are having a conversation of their own that you don’t even know what they’re saying to each other. He really respects Gaolang by a lot and wants to be a respectable man like him.

Both Lawana and Kiet idolize Gaolang;however, Gaolang is Lawana’s role model. She wants to become a great Mauy Thai fighter and boxer just like him. Although Kiet highly respects his father, it’s not a strong enough force to have the same effect on him like his sister.

For some reason, your children instantly fall asleep into Gaolang’s arms. You don’t know what but your kids instantly become calm when done so and the the next thing you know they’re dead asleep in his arms. At times you envy him for having this ability but Gaolang, himself, doesn’t know this since he just thinks that they are just tired and need to sleep.

Since Gaolang’s a godly chef, you’re kids aren’t picky eaters. They’ll eat whatever Gaolang cooks, which is more than okay with you since you like his cooking as well.

Speaking of cooking, Gaolang would sometimes let the kiddos help out with cooking. He doesn’t make them touch the stove, fire, knifes, practically anything dangerous until they are quite older (Maybe around like 10-12). He believes that they should know how to cook or basics so they know how to feed themselves when they’re on their own. Then again, Gaolang is more than welcome to cook for his children.

Knowing this, Gaolang and you have them get involve in chores to teach them responsibility and be productive with their time. He wants to teach them good habits.

Gaolang’s Lock screen is a family portrait of your family, which looks sophisticated but sweet. Then his home screen is you smiling in the background while your children are playing in-front of you.

Bruh, When they say “I love you Papa”, it’s literally endgame. Gaolang.exe stopped working. On the outside, he smiles or chuckles at his kids and saying “I love you too”. But on the inside, his brain stops working and he kinda just goes soft in that moment. His kids are so precious and adorable that the even the stoic Thai God of War can’t help but smile at them.

Gaolang will tuck Lawana and Kiet in bed if you’re too tired or finishing up something and you can’t do it yourself. He’s the type of parent to place his children to sleep, kiss their foreheads, lovingly stare at them and turn off the light in their rooms before leaving. I like to think when Gaolang has difficulty sleeping, not common but it happens from time to time, he sometimes walks over to the kids’s room to check up on them. He just leaves the door ajar enough for him to see them sleeping. It’s not creepy but he can’t help but experience a small amount of sentiment. It’s not a bad feeling, but it is a different feeling that would be hard to describe in words, even in Gaolang’s standards.

If your kids show interest in fighting, more specifically in Muay Thai and Boxing, Gaolang is fine with it as long you’re okay with it as well. If you allow them, Gaolang will teach them to the best of his abilities, basically really good teachings. I wouldn’t say Gaolang is super strict on their training, but there are some points where he has to use tough love on them to help push them past their limits and strengthen them. However, Gaolang does tell them from time to time that he’s proud of them and that the tough training he put them will bear fruit, and they’re be rewarded the fruits of their labor.

I just want to put it out there that you and Gaolang’s kids are powerful fighters. I mean with your children’s father/your husband being the Thai God of War and the undisputed heavyweight boxing champion, your children have high fighting potential. Gaolang is aware of what his name brings and sits his kiddos down to tell them he doesn’t want nor expect them to be just like him and fulfill his legacy. Rather, he wants them to make a name for themselves that they can be proud and not become pompous and greed in the process. That’s all Gaolang really wishes from them. But either, your kiddos have not disappointed you nor Gaolang one bit.

One of your favorite moments is when your kids try to imitates Gaolang’s expression, which is most likely always the stoic one. You find it cute and funny how your kids to look like their father and at one point you joked that if they kept doing it that would be their regular facial expression. Gaolang doesn’t really mind his kids doing this, but he does get a kick out of it when he does see them doing it.

At some point, your children have been meet and interacted with King Rama. It was also him wanting to see you and Gaolang’s children and holding and interacting with them, but you didn’t hear it from me.

Proud Husband and Family man, you couldn’t ask for a better man. Gaolang loves his kids and you, you love Gaolang and the kiddos, and the kiddos love you and Gaolang very much.

Wakatsuki

At this point, we all knew he was going/wanting to be a dad for a while.

You have Twin boys, Katashi and Tadashi, and a daughter, Kei, with a five year gap.

For the first few months when they’re born, Wakatsuki doesn’t really hold them that much out of fear that he would hurt them due to his superman syndrome. It took you awhile to convince him that he would never hurt them since every time he has held you he never hurt you at all, and that his control over his strength has improved over the years. Once he’s comfortable to hold them, he’s world just stops. Since he’s a pretty big guy, his kids look so tiny in his arms, the size difference makes them so precious that Wakatsuki gets a flurry of emotions from just holding them.

Wakatsuki, like Gaolang, isn’t an overbearing parent. He gives them some good distance and watches on the sidelines. He’ll give them some advice when they ask him for some.

He likes to watch his kids play video-games and ask them what they’re doing. It’s a good way he bonds with his kids since he grew up playing video games. It’s so wholesome to see them interact with their father and Wakatsuki learning and understanding certain aspects of the game. I like to think Wakatsuki is really good at video games and sometimes he helps his kiddos out when they need to(to the best of your abilities, of course)

Wakatsuki has a hard time setting his foot down when it comes to his children. The man can’t help it though. The small pout they have, the big teary doe eyes, and small sniffles, he can’t help but not get made at his kiddos and processed to comfort them. You know this because you walked in on him doing this on more than one occasion. Due to this, you are, unfortunately, the disciplinary when it comes to that point. Sorry about that.

The kids basically use their dad as a jungle gym. Wakatsuki is pretty strong so he doesn’t really mind them doing this, hell Wakatsuki actually enjoys them doing this even though you told them to not bother their dad. The man is so sturdy, there’s no way that he will be in any sort of pain or exhaustion.  

You caught your kids sleeping on top of Wakatsuki on more than one occasion. When you come home from work, most of the time you see your kiddos napping on husband on the sofa. It’s so cute you take a picture before they wake up from their small nap. This also applies when they sleep in your bed when they were younger. Before Kei was born, the twins would always climb into bed with the two of you. Most of the time, they slept in between the two of you in the small space in the middle. It was a wholehearted moment for Wakatsuki, the sight of you laying with the boys had him getting all soft and emotional. But when your daughter is born, the level goes up to never before seen heights. When it’s just her and not the boys, she quietly goes to Wakatsuki’s side of the bed and softly pokes him awake. To which he opens one eye to see it’s her, picks her up, lays on his back with her placed on his chest. The man couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, she really precious to him. You know what really gets his soft and sentimental is when all the kiddos are sleeping on his chest and with you tucked into his side while using his shoulder as a pillow. The man is literally is having an emotional crisis by looking at your small family, he’s almost in tears. He’s so grateful and blessed to have such a beautiful family and you as his wife/spouse.

Wakatsuki is a doting father for sure. Not like in the Mae Hughes type of way, he’s knows how to control himself when it comes to his kids and is subtle when he’s doing it. But he really loves his kids and you so much.

Tadashi and Katashi are kinda similar to Takeshi but are more expressive and outspoken than he is. And they seem to know how to blend in with the crowd. They are both gentle boys, like their father.

Kei is always the one that’s getting the attention of Wakatsuki. He loves the boys but having a daughter hits different for Wakatsuki. She pretty much gets spoiled by you and Takeshi, hell even by her own brothers. She’s kinda has your hubby wrapped around her finger since he can’t say no to her. Absolute sweetheart though.

I had this headcanon where you and Wakatsuki’s kids have something similar to him where their muscle mass is denser than the average human. Not like Wakatsuki’s, probably even way less than that, but it’s enough to be more than the average person. The twins would probably almost be as tall and built like him if they ever hit the rack/gym. While your daughter is slightly taller than your average female and is strong and toned. In short, your kids can be absolute powerhouse if they decided to take up fighting but it depends if your husband and you allow them to do so.

Since he likes baseball by a long shot, he probably will play catch with his boys and Kei if they ask him. His throws aren’t hard, he ain’t about to destroy his kids with his inhuman strength, that’s his worst nightmare. In its simplicity, this is how he bonds with his kiddos most of the time. It’s also good too because they need some sunshine and not be stuck inside all the time. Sure, it looks boring but it gets fun as time goes that you have to call them to come inside most of the time.

Just like with you, he loves to cuddle with his kids. He just likes holding his kids, in general. With the twin boys, one in each arm as he walks around the house. His daughter though, always wants to be held by her dad. There is not one moment where you didn’t see Kei hugging or being held by Wakatsuki. As they get older, he gives them space and isn’t as affectionate with them like when they were younger. However, it doesn’t mean they’ll refuse a hug from him because, let’s be honest, he gives out really good hugs and you are a witness to it.

Due to him being so big and strong, your kids ask him to crush cans, bottles, or even lift certain boxes. I believe it was @kengan-ass that said that Wakatsuki would this to keep their attention and have them not get distracted. Your kids love when he does it since he can do it was such ease, it almost makes him prideful to have such strength.

Tadashi: Hey Dad! Can you crush this can? Takeshi: Sure thing, son. Takeshi: *crushes can with minimum effort Tadashi: Woah... Katashi: Dad, what about this one? Takeshi: Sure Takeshi: *crushes the can with ease Kei: Daddy, what about this one? Takeshi: I got it, Kei Takeshi: *literally flattens it the can into a thin disk The kiddos: Wow, Dad’s so strong! Takeshi:*dying from their praise and cuteness

He relies on his kids a lot to help him with understanding technology and slang these days and it’s so funny to watch. It’s like a complex problem to him but it’s so simple to your kids that you’re watching a generational gap or something. Bet Wakatsuki says things like “kids these days” or “back in my time” and your kids unironically calling him “Old man” or “Boomer”. You saw this once and you couldn’t control your laughter. But it’s just playful banter between the kiddos and their father, no harm is done there.

At some point when your children were fairly young and sleeping in the night, Takeshi talked to you about his thoughts and him contemplating on still being a fighter. You listen with open ears and mind to him as he explains to you that he has you and a family to take care, and with the uncertainty of the kengan matches, he doesn’t wanna risk himself dying you and your kids would lose him. You struck you hard, not in a bad way but more on shock value, you knew fighting was everything to your Takeshi because that’s all he had before he had you and his kids. Even with you though, he still continue to fight but when you had your kids it became a whole different story. The thought of his kids and you losing him in one of these matches gave him an unholy feeling and the thought of leaving you all behind was enough to stress him to make grow silent for a few minutes. This was serious because you can tell in his eyes that it was hard for him and the thought of it could put him on the brink of tears. After some thought, you told him that he can still fight in the Kengan matches because of only a handful of fighters that can rival him as a fighter. You also reminded him of the promise that he made where he can still keep on fighter but he has to be careful and not die. After you said that, it give Wakatsuki more than enough reason to continue fighting and not die.

When the kiddos say “I love you” to Takeshi, it’s literally game over for him. After hearing those words, he hugs them and says “I love you too” back but he’s brain kinda stops working and just internally screaming. He just really adores his kids.

They calls Cosmo “big bro” and Adam too when he’s with Cosmo. You can bet that Cosmo, and eventually Adam, babysits your kids. Tadashi and Katashi are rough housing with Cosmo while Kei, for some reason, hangs out with Adam. Oddly enough, Adam doesn’t swear around them at all and is actually the more authoritative than Cosmo since Cosmo is still has a mindset of a child. But you still care for and appreciate him and Adam for doing this.

Your kids also know Sekibayashi, who they call “Uncle Seki”, and Kaede and Sakura. They’ve meet them enough times to remember and be familiar with them. They probably watch pro wrestling because of Sekibayashi.

Your kids will not find out that their father was a underground fighter until they’re 18 or older. He doesn’t want them to know and be dragged into this and you couldn’t blame him. It’s safe to say they won’t know until he either tells them about it or you tell them.

I don’t know why, but I feel like your kids would be protective of you when you go out with them without Wakatsuki. This is a thought I had where since Wakatsuki isn’t always by you all the time he asks his kids to watch over you even though you’re okay. This mostly happens in grocery stores or shopping. They kinda watch from afar but don’t like it when men talk to you because it’s aren’t their father. It gets worse when they’re older aka teenagers, Kei knows you can take care of you but Tadashi and Katashi are a different story. Since they’re almost as tall as their dad and are kinda look/built like their dad, they can intimidate the hell out of people, specifically scummy men that won’t leave you alone. They won’t hurt anyone;however, they will tower over them and ask them to leave you alone to which the guy would leave. It’s strange to you because Takeshi isn’t like that most of the time but it does happen that he does steps in. You guess it’s something they picked up from their father. (I wrote this because I’m like this with my mom even though I’m not that tall).

He love you and your kiddos so much, he never expected himself to have this type of life but you gave him the chance to have one and he’s so blessed and grateful to have such a wonderful family.

There are so many heartwarming moments in this family, omg, you might as well die from how cute it is.

The man fights for you and the kiddos. Them and you are what keep him going during his matches.

Bona fide family man, father, and husband. Such a wholesome, gentle father and husband.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

What do you think about this?

https://youtu.be/ZQYPHAyzYfA

https://youtu.be/ZQYPHAyzYfA

I think that it’s interesting. There are some things I agreed with and some things I disagreed with. Like I disagree that she chose fear over love early on. I think that Ozai was starting to teach her to do so at that age but I don’t think that the choice had already been made yet. I think that she was still just a kid who wanted affection. The video even goes onto say that she sought out her mother’s love and attention by doing the things that earned it for her from her father. Which imo is contradictory to the thought that she already chose fear over love. Literally her antics were cries for affection. 

I thought that that was an interesting way of looking at the bush burning scene too! She didn’t just set the flower on fire to set something on fire, she knows that demonstrating how good she is at firebending and parroting Ozai’s ‘weak things aren’t allowed in my world’ are what got her praise from Ozai. And (seeing as she was only a child) in her mind if dad likes it, shouldn’t mom? And so she tried to gain affection from her mother exactly how she tired to earn it with her dad. And it obviously didn’t work because, of course setting flowers and Zuko’s pants on fire isn’t a good thing to do. 

I do absolutely agree with both points that the scoldings only strengthened her thoughts that her mom didn’t love her and that it pushed her even closer to her dad.

I also think that it’s important to note that Azula was raised on ‘love and trust are weaknesses’. That’s the very same upbringing that fucked Regina up. That kind of mentality tends to lead to being unable to seek out love, comfort, and help. It’s a pretty solid isolation tactic. One that makes Azula self isolating so that Ozai doesn’t have to worry about doing it himself.

I would also disagree on “one upping her brother wasn’t enough...” I feel like her going after Aang and conquering Ba Sing Se was a lot more complex than that. It was a much more severe and aggressive version of trying to gain affection. I think that she was mostly seeking approval and love from her father in the same way that season 1 Zuko was. The reason she gets more hate for it is because she had more success.  Granted I got a chuckle out of “ya know, while she was in the neighborhood” because yeah lmao true. And I do agree that ambition comes into play. Azula is a very ambitious person. I also disagree with the “consolidate her power” bit. I really don’t think that power mattered at all to her. And if it did it was very small in comparison to her need for her father’s approval and to not be seen as a useless failure. After seeing what happened to Zuko I think that fear had a hand in it as well. She just doesn’t strike me as the power hungry sort. Much of that power she just handed to Ozai. 

Lol’ing @ “she lets her guard down for just a second.” 

“Azula decided that it was better to be feared than loved because she didn’t thing she could be loved.” Ya know what, fair take. This is the only version of ‘Azula chose fear right away’ that I’ll accept. I think that Grey said something very similar; that Azula manipulated Mai & TyLee into coming with her because she couldn’t see them being friends with her any other way. I still feel as though she didn’t truly start to sink into using fear instead of love until her pre-teens. But I can absolutely see her choosing it because she saw fear as her only option. And the bit about how she started acting like a monster because she thought that was how everyone saw her anyways. R.i.p my heart. Didn’t need that anyways.

“Without her friends she turns to Ozai for approval.” Pretty much. That’s exactly what I was getting at with Ozai helped shape her into someone who was self isolating so that she could really only turn to him at the end of the day. “In her mind she did everything right, she was a loyal second in command. She cut ties with her brother, her mother, her uncle, her friends...” Yup self isolating. It’s a scary tactic that real life abusers often use. 

Though I disagreed with ending that quote by stating that she did it all to be the perfect heir. I think that she did it all to be the perfect daughter. It just so happens that being the perfect daughter meant being the perfect heir. 

“So when she did everything right and it still looks like Ozai is discarding her, Azula cracks.” And then they play the clip and honestly re-watching it is even more chilling. I feel like even the language he used on her was careful. “It’s a very important job that I can only entrust to you.” The tone he used was very condescending as though talking to a child (”now honey, this is a very important job uwu”) when he used to talk to her as if she were an adult. And so that probably was like a slap in the face. I feel like that was at least lowkey gaslighting. 

“But this brief encounter shows Azula just how easy it is to slip from her father’s favor.” Which is exactly why she goes out and does things like conquering Ba Sing Se. In order to get her dad’s love she needs to do bold and frightening things. There is literally no room for failure. And since there is no room for failure, she has to be ruthless.

I’m glad that the narrator brought up how Ozai should be seen as a constant threat. And how that probably factored into her paranoid episode. 

“Azula has to face a hard truth that she still hasn’t managed to accept. If Ursa loved Azula no matter what then Azula was wrong this entire time. She doesn’t have to act like a monster to be powerful, she could be loved instead of feared...hearing the truth breaks Azula.” Big ouch. Because yeah, I think that this is a moment where Azula does start to question a few of her world views even if she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to truly conceptualize and make anything of that. It kind of just slapped her in the face and she didn’t really have any tools to deal with that. 

“She says that she loves her, an idea that she still can’t bare to consider.” This is another big thing. I think that another reason why it is so hard for Azula to get some healing is because it really hurts her to consider that she might be loveable. Tbh I think that the notion actually really scares her because she doesn’t know what to do with that or how to accept affection.

I was surprised to hear the narrator mention, “just when it looks like Azula will finally embrace her mother Zuko leaps in and Azula lashes out.” This is an aspect that I hadn’t considered. That Zuko (unwittingly mind you) quite possibly interrupted a bonding moment/turning point. Leeway granted in that he probably thought that she was going to hurt their mom. But at the same time there was a chance that she might have dropped the fire and full on cried. She was already crying. I feel like this is kind of what tends to happen to Azula; she never seems to have time to process her feelings? She gets hit with something like the real Ursa saying that she loves her and then there’s a fight scene and the moment is gone. 

Overall, that was a pretty solid video. Some minor things I disagreed on. But overall I think that it was a refreshingly sympathetic take and some good points were brought up.

Thanks for the ask and the video rec! 

[siberianoverture]

Don’t You Know - 3

A/N: Hi! I realized I should probably specify when the fic happens, sorry! It all happens a year after Endgame, 2024. I spared Tony, I like the theory that if everyone on the battlefield touched each other the energy would be dispersed, Steve returns the stones and comes back because Peggy Carter moved on, and Natasha comes back. Hope my forgetfulness didn’t cause too much confusion. English is not my first language and although I am pretty confident in it I know I make some mistakes. If you happen to find them please let me know! If you want to be added to taglist let me know! Enjoy!

previous: CHAPTER 2

When Sam came into his friend's room to propose a trip to the city for lunch, he found him standing in the middle of the floor staring at the wall above his desk.

"Buc-" he stops when he follows Bucky's gaze, "what's all this?"

There are two pages ripped from a notepad taped there, both with big black letters in Bucky's neat handwriting. First read 'a girl', second 'forgetting'.

Bucky doesn't look at him, clearly deep in thought, so Sam steps in front of him forcing the super soldier to look at him. Bucky lowers his eyes and steps back until he is sitting on his bed.

"What's going on?" Sam asks again turning slightly to take another look at the wall.

"I can't remember her," Bucky says still looking at his shoes, "there's a girl that worked with Winter Soldier, but I don't remember."

"Maybe it was one mission only so there's nothing to remember," Sam tries but Bucky shakes his head.

"I would remember, I remember everything he saw. There is a person-shaped hole in my memories. Like someone took an eraser and wiped her away."

"I thought they took down all Hydra barriers," Sam begins and Bucky looks up at him, "Oh, you don't think it was done by Hydra. Like a superpower?” Bucky nods, “How do you know it's a girl anyway?"

"Natasha, she said there was a rumor of a girl working with Soldier. She thinks it's her, but I don't think so. Nobody would've called her that, everyone would just say Black Widow. Also, it became quite known we had missions together. It just doesn't add up but if anyone knew it would be her, so I don't really know where to look," Bucky explains starting to ramble a bit so Sam sits down next to him and places a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Hey, calm down. We'll figure it out."

*

A month passed and they had found nothing.

Bucky had a new routine now: run, breakfast, look for something, lunch, look for something, dinner, look for something until he passed out, rarely in his bed, usually on the floor next to it. This changed only on mission days, if there is a slight chance that he could find something more about her, he goes. The team doesn't ask.

He hadn't told anyone what he was doing, trying to protect himself from everyone's pity, it was Hydra after all. He knew that she might be dead already. It did not stop him, the weird dreams and memories he couldn't catch fueling him. Also, for some reason, he did not want Steve knowing.

Sam is with him whenever he can, sometimes reading some files but usually just keeping him company. With Bucky running after ghosts and assumptions there was little he could help with besides standing next to his friend when mission reports bring back dark memories.

*

"Sam Wilson came back from his mission and is heading to your room, Sergeant," Friday informed tearing him away from reading through old files for what felt like the hundredth time. Sure enough, Sam was soon walking through his door, still in his suit with an old looking manila folder and throwing it to Bucky.

First, there was a list of Inhumans with their photos and their abilities. At the top there was a boy, no older than fifteen, and there was one word in the abilities column: FORGETTABLE. Bucky looked back at Sam.

"I know it's a boy but, remember, there was a series of experiments where they tried to transfer powers," Sam turned the pages, " there was one page missing and here it is. There was one success, and it was a girl." Sam points to the bottom of the page. FEMALE, 737079, 18, SUCCESS. He flips a few more pages. "She survived because they gave her the serum."

"That's impossible," Bucky shakes his head, "There were five bags, they made five Soldiers."

"True, but all of them were different. They had to adjust the dosage or they would kill them. Maybe they had a bit left and used it on her. It wouldn’t be enough to make a new soldier, but to strengthen her enough to survive however they transferred the powers to her."

"If she was forgettable she would be the best spy Hydra had. That is why she's not in any reports, she would do her job, report to whoever, and everybody involved would forget she was even there," Bucky is overwhelmed. He walks to the window and looks out, "If we worked together I have to look through missions that had more than one objective. Killing for me, information for her. She could be still there."

"Yeah," Sam sighs, "Too bad we don't have a photo."

Somehow Bucky is sure he would recognize her.

He starts looking immediately and he finds quite a few matching his criteria. Next day something pushes him to look through recordings from 2014, his last moments as Winter Soldier and everything plays like he remembered, until, late in the evening, he switches to a view from CCTV near the highway with a clear view of him looking for Natasha, her shooting him, him ducking and then when he and men beside him stand up, there's one more person he doesn't remember being there. It's a woman, in suit that almost exactly matches his, only differce is both her arms being covered. She’s head shorter than him, with hair pulled away from her face. He says something to her, she nods and runs away, and he jumps down the bridge.

He stands up from his computer and stretches. Then he calls for Sam and shows him the video.

"At least she doesn't seem to have any metal limbs," he tries to joke but neither laugh, "If she looks like you does it mean she comes with a handy little manual too?"

"Yeah, she might. We should check the place you got the folder from out again."

They walk out arm in arm and head to the hangar. It's dark outside but Sam knows Bucky won't be able to wait for the morning to come.

When they land near the base, system informs them of a car heading in their direction. Obviously Hydra as the base lays in the middle of nowhere.

"I have a strange feeling they are after the same thing we are," Sam mutters turning on the Quinjet's cloaking.

"It means we're in the right place," Bucky answers and leaves the plane.

"Do you know where to go?"

Bucky doesn't answer and enters the base leaving his friend no choice but to follow. He moves with confidence that makes Sam realize he had already been there at some point in his life. They find the elevator and Bucky presses 737079 into the keyboard and it moves.

"It's the number next to-" Sam begins but he's interrupted.

"It translates to 'spy' from hexadecimal."

The door opens to a room with the same machinery Sam saw in Winter Soldier's files. His eyes follow Bucky noticing how tense his friend is when he marches to one of the cabinets with the last century looking hand scanner on its side.

Bucky glances over his shoulder at Sam, his eyes filled with sadness, anger, and a bit of fear. Then he places his hand at the scanner. It shines green and the cabinet opens with a hiss. Inside is a folder, bound in black leather with a red star on it. Inverted image of a book that controlled The Soldier. Bucky feels sick.

Sam grabs the book and drags him back to the elevator, pushing the button for the ground floor and he can't help but ask.

"How did you know?"

"I just did," Bucky rests his forehead on a cold wall and tries to calm himself, "It's like muscle memory."

They run back to Quinjet and see Hydra soldiers entering the base when they fly back home.

*

It is nearly midnight when they land and walk back to Bucky's room. He sits down on his bed, a manual folder in his hand and Sam leans on the desk with his arms crossed. They share a look and Bucky finally starts reading.

"There's no name, just the number again. Born in 1973, obtained in 1990. She was seventeen," he looks up at Sam but can't read his expression, "Trained in espionage, injected with serum in 1991. Makes it possible to take powers from injected Inhuman's blood serum. One injection lasts two hours, max three types can be mixed, max five of each. There are words to put in Soldier mode-" Sam interrupts him.

"Same as yours?"

"No," he reads them with an uneasy feeling, "Seek, bullet, lucid, seven, reflect, set, moon, ten, acid, tenet.” “They are in English,” Sam notices.

“Someone else worked on her programming. All other soldiers were programmed in Russian, native language of person doing the conditioning," He needs to really control himself not to punch anything when he reads next few sentences, "After depletion subject experiences psychosis and should be confined posing threat to itself and others. It is advised to put the subject immediately after calming in cryo-chamber. It is no longer in Winter Soldier mode. It is advised to wipe before mission opposed to after."

His vision goes dark when he glances at the next point and he has to put the folder away. Deep down he expected what he saw but this doesn’t lessen the pain that comes with it. He stumbles into the bathroom and splashes his face with ice-cold water. Sam follows and when Bucky turns off the sink sits him on the edge of the bathtub.

"What does it say?" He asks after Bucky's breathing calms.

"I was her handler."

next: CHAPTER 4

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Fourteen

“What is it?” He asks impatiently. 

“How did she know all this?” The old man whispered to himself, almost amazed as he skimmed the pages. 

“What is it?” Harry asked again, this time louder. 

“And this book, I, I didn’t even know it still existed, I thought,” he’s talking to himself, but Harry is still listening. 

“Listen to me!” He boomed, Dumbledore knew something. And as far as Harry knew, this something could get Hermione back, or at the very least help him understand what Voldemort might want with her. 

Dumbledore snapped out of it to meet his green eyes. 

“Is this, whatever this is, can we get her back?” Harry almost whispered, pushing down any hope best he could. 

“I’m afraid,” the old man's voice is shaking, “I’m afraid this only endangers Hermione further.” 

Feeling bold, Harry moves forward and tries to snatch the leather bound book Hermione’s been scribbling in. However, Dumbledore is faster despite his age and pulls it out of Potter’s grasp. 

“Harry.” He warns, voice dangerously low. 

The dark haired boy recognized that voice, the last time he heard it was when Dumbledore had told the Gryffindor to get closer to Slughorn, for his memory. 

And it clicks. 

“This is about what you needed from Slughorn, isn’t it?” His voice is stronger than he thought was capable with all the guilt wracking his mind. 

“No one can know.” The white haired man says. 

“Hermione does.” 

“She shouldn’t.” Dumbledore says sharply, “I don’t even know how.” 

“Tell me,” Harry’s begging, “please.” 

The headmaster shakes his head a little, “I don’t even understand it myself, not fully.” 

He sits on the edge of the cot Hermione had been occupying, it still smells like her. He wonders how long that’ll last, “please sir.” 

Sighing in defeat, he sits next to him, “I knew that Voldemort had employed ancient dark magic to keep him so strong and I suspected he shared as much with Professor Slughorn. I believe that Hermione has found the very thing I’ve tasked you with retrieving from Horace’s memory.” He explained. 

“And what is it?” Harry whispers. 

“A horcrux, it conceals a part of a dark wizard or witches soul, the logistics are unclear, but it leads to immortality.” 

“You think he’s made a Horcrux?” The Boy-Who-Lived asks. 

Dumbledore nods, “possibly several, but I can’t be sure. Even I am not fully aware of the extent of these objects, there’s only been one text written on it. I had thought the very book was destroyed decades ago.” 

“The book...” he trails, pointing to the black thing splayed on the ground. 

The old man nods, “yes, it’s contents contain that of Dark Magic. I had every intention to destroy the book myself, but Headmaster Dippet disagreed. By the time I was appointed, I was under the impression a boy named Tom Riddle had obliterated the only copy in existence.” 

“How would Hermione have gotten it?” She’s the last person who’d break any sort of rules. 

Dumbledore shook his head, “I don’t know. It also appears several pages are missing, those I believe outline how to destroy a Horcrux. Miss Granger is exceptionally brilliant, more so than I am, she must’ve hid them away knowing how crucial it was.” 

Harry nodded somberly, pondering on why Hermione didn’t tell him. 

The professor broke his revere, once again sounding frantic, “would anyone know?” 

He shook his head fiercely, “she didn’t tell me. Her and Ron haven’t spoken in a while. Ginny maybe, we can ask,” he began. 

“No!” The man's voice boomed, Harry jumped, “no, no one can know.” He says calmer. 

After a moment, a tense moment, the chosen one speaks with so much conviction, it shakes Albus Dumbledore himself to his very core. 

“No.” 

All the headmaster can do is scrunch his brow in confusion. 

“Ron, he deserves to know.” Harry states. 

Knowing there’s no point in arguing, the old man grants him this mercy, “just him, no one else Harry. This, this changes everything.” 

And though Potter can’t comprehend how important this is, he nods anyway, sensing as much. 

“You have to be strong, Harry. Now more than ever. Mister Weasley, I fear he has the potential to stumble down a long path of darkness. You must steer him of that, you must be strong.” He tells him. 

“I don’t know how,” The chosen one admits quietly, eyes looking around the small room, “Hermione, she’s always been strong enough for the three of us.” 

And it’s true. Whenever Harry is too exhausted to carry on, it’s always Hermione who stays up looking for a solution. It’s Hermione who makes sure he and Ron have a good time at Quidditch despite all the bad. It’s her who keeps them going.

“Now you must find the strength she once possessed. For yourself, for Ron, for Hermione. It’s the best chance she has.” Albus tells him softly.  

Silently, Dumbledore charms both the book and diary, no doubt putting protective enchantments on them as he slides it back into her trunk. 

Just when he makes a move to tell Harry they should go back downstairs and act as if nothing happens, someone speaks. 

“What happens if he finds out Hermione knows?” The young boy's voice is trembling. 

For a brief second Dumbledore’s voice catches in his throat, “I fear for the worst.” Is all he can manage. 

...

Soon they go downstairs, no one questions how long they’ve been gone. Ginny however, does ask if they found anything. Quickly, almost awkwardly, Harry says no. No one seems to catch the lie, except for Ron. 

Before he can question his friend, a small group enters the room. 

Lupin, Tonks, Moody, McGonagall, and Kingsley walk in, however their arrival is anything but joyous. 

Ignoring any niceties being exchanged, he stands numbly as they speak to Dumbledore. A few minutes later, they disburse a few Weasley’s as well. 

“Ronald, would you mind accompanying me outside? I would like to make sure no traces of dark magic were left behind.” He says to the younger boy. 

“Albus, I don’t think that,” Molly tries again delicately. 

“It’s alright Mum. I’ll be fine.” Without another word, he walks to the door, not even bothering with a coat. He hopes the cold air will sting his skin and make him feel something. 

They step outside as Ron wordlessly leads Dumbledore over to the oak tree. 

“What happens if there is dark magic left behind?” The ginger all but whispers. 

Weasley hears the old man's lips smack against each other as he starts to speak, “it’s a very rare, very powerful thing, but it seems those from the noble house of Black are able to master such things.” 

“Such as?” The boy implores. 

“Sometimes, if say an ancient spell, or even something dark like an unforgivable curse is used, a wizard or witch powerful enough may be able to trace the source of the dark magic.” Dumbledore peers over to see Ron looking confused, “essentially, if something other than expelliarmus was used, depending on the spell, Bellatrix is able to call to the connection of her magic here, she can apparate back.” 

Ron hadn't realized it, but they had stopped walking, the tree in sight, but they weren’t exactly there. 

“And if it is there, how do you, you know, stop her?” He gulped. Asking questions was a line of defense, as he tried to block his mind from the thought of an unforgivable curse used on Hermione. 

“I shall expel the magic from the area, strengthen the wards, extend the apparition line.” He assured.

“Bellatrix,” he whispered, “she never, she never passed the wards, Harry, Hermione, and I, we ran out of them.” 

The headmaster nodded, “yes, if nothing else you and your family will be safe as long as you stay within the bounds.” 

Ron opens his mouth to make some snarky comment about what good that did Hermione, but refrains from it. He’d hate to see so much as a hair out of place on someone else’s head he cared about. This was enough pain to last him a lifetime. 

At the silence, the ginger breaks it by continuing his stride to the tree, dreading every second as he goes. 

Again, wanting to avoid the inevitable, he talks again, “I reckon someone should do the same at the Granger’s.” It’s unspoken, but the fact that Death Eaters could go after them is very plausible. Something that’s been eating at Hermione for a while. 

“The wards have been placed around the Granger’s house after the tournament. Hermione requested her parents not know about their placement. The order checks in.” He assures. 

“Oh.” Ron breathes stupidly. Hermione is brilliant, he’s not surprised, he just should’ve realized. He also wishes she didn’t do it alone. 

A Gryffindor through and through, the bravest of them all she was, is, he reminds. Now it’s his turn to be the courageous one, to buck up and face her parents, help the order anyway he could, and get her back. 

And like he can read Ron’s mind, Dumbledore breaks his thoughts, “don’t worry yourself too much Ron, there will be time for that later,” to worry about Hermione’s family, about her, “for now we must focus. One thing at a time.” 

With a huff of air, his shoulders ease the slightest bit, but are still tense. Ron finally steps to the tree, focusing viciously on the unfamiliar incantation Dumbledore whispers rather than the fact Hermione was here not long ago. 

Then something catches his eye. 

As the old man casts the spell, a glowing white light outlines the grass. There’s a few shapes, one is a silhouette of what Ron knows to be Hermione’s crumpled body, two outlines of pairs of shoes, but the other, it’s a rectangle. 

Meaning, something was there on the ground as they apparated away, but it vanished with her. 

After a moment he realizes, heart breaking as he does, “the book.” 

Dumbledore drops his wand at the word. 

“What did you say?” 

“Book,” he chokes out, “the book, she grabbed onto it, it’s gone.” It was a gift, he was supposed to give it to her. Give her that and all the love he had to offer. To show he cared. 

Then with a thud, his back is hitting the tree trunk as Dumbledore’s piercing eyes bore into his own. 

“Book, what book?” He sounds panicked, more frantic than Ron ever imagined he could sound. 

He just stares at him with wide, shocked eyes. 

“Ron!” His voice booms. 

The red head flinches, “a gift- a Christmas gift. It was Hogwarts, A History. That’s all.” He explains quickly. 

At the admission, Dumbledore’s hands slide off his shoulder as he steps back. “My apologies.” The man says rather calmly. 

However, Ron is anything but.  

He slants his eyes to the most respected man in the Wizarding world, not caring less, “this is about that book, isn’t it? The one she’s been holding onto.” Realization strikes again, “Harry showed you, it means something doesn’t it? Come on, out with it!” He commands loudly. 

“Keep your voice down. No one can know.” The white haired man tells him. 

“Tell me what it is! Tell me it can help!” He pleads angrily. 

“Mr.Weasley!” The headmaster roars, making the younger wizard slink back, turning red. “I will tell you what I know, if you swear this information stays strictly between us and Harry. Do you hear me, no one can know, this is life or death.” 

Anxiously, Ron nods. He’s praying to whatever is up there that this information hasn’t reached Hermione. That this proclamation of life and death won’t touch her. 

Dumbledore’s voice drops to a deadly whisper, “Miss Granger seemed to either knowingly or unknowingly, uncovered what I believe is the key to destroying Voldemort.”

Ron shivers at the name. Shivers even more at the prospect of what this could mean.

“The book she’s been immersed in, the last known person in possession of it, was Tom Riddle. I believed it had been destroyed upon his departure.” 

“What’s in the book?” Weasley gulps. 

The old man shakes his head, “dark magic. The darkest magic possible. The type of power that’ll make you wish you rotted in Azkaban rather than meet it’s fate.”

Still, Ron’s brow remains scrunch. 

“A horcrux,” it’s barely audible, “bi products of murder, that if done correctly, can give one immense power, immortality.” He tells in a whisper. 

“How do you destroy one?” It’s the first thing he thinks of, if these ruddy things are out there he wants them gone. 

Regretfully, Albus sighs, “that’s the thing Ron, I believe only Hermione knows how to do that.” 

“Meaning if she found these, whatever, she could then kill Vold,” he stops, “kill him.” He amends. 

“Yes.” He nods slowly. 

“And that’s exactly where she’s been taken to, to him!” Tears sting the corners of his eyes. 

“Listen to me, you are fearing the worst, I doubt Voldemort even knows the extent of the information Hermione has, even if he really does suspect it.” His eyes meet Ron’s glassy ones, “and Miss Granger, she wouldn’t give it up for anything.” 

“You see professor,” Ron chokes, “that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” He admits. 

Sadly, Dumbledore nods with sympathy, as he flicks his wand one more time. Ron bites his lip and closes his eyes shut at seeing the outline of Hermione again.  

A moment later, the old man's voice causes him to open them, “there’s no dark magic here.”  He promises. 

Ron let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. At least it was one last thing to worry about. 

“Now to strengthen,” Albus starts until a shriek sounds from inside the Burrow. 

Without a glance, the ginger takes off toward his house. Surprisingly, Dumbledore doesn’t stray far behind as they clamber into the living room. 

Lupin is dropped to his knees consoling the shaky body. Ginny is backed into a corner horrified. Molly is crying. 

“I don’t, I don’t understand.” McGonagall’s uneasy voice says. 

In front of Ron, is Harry Potter, writhing on the floor and clutching his scar. 

“It’s him.” Is all he can say to the room.