#as an observers we cannot do anything but to wait and watch so remain cool and logical

[tiredfoxtf]

.

[the-widow-sisters]

Snowy Surprises

Summary: When it snows outside one morning, Natasha wakes her sister up to enjoy the surprise. The two of them have some much deserved fun together as sisters.

Word Count: 3150

  “Hey,” a voice suddenly sounded nearby her, and Yelena furrowed her brow, desperately trying to fight the tendrils of consciousness coming to life and bringing her to the waking world. She groaned, suddenly realizing with great irritation that someone was poking her. Yelena waved the hand away and she heard the huff of slight exasperation.

  “Honey, wake up.” Yelena groaned, more than anything just wanting to burrow further into the blankets. She turned over to face the source of the noise, her eyes barely opening to blearily catch sight of red hair. As soon as she realized who it was, she just blindly reached out, grabbing for the other woman.

  “Yelena, open your eyes, I’ve got a surprise,” Natasha told her, her voice getting a little impatient but with an overwhelmingly huge presence of her typical calm.

  “Net, ya ustal... It can wait,” Yelena told her, suddenly realizing to her surprise that Natasha was wearing a coat instead of the tank top that she had on when Yelena snuck into the bed with her the previous night as she always did.

  “What’re you wearing?” Yelena whined, her voice heightening just barely in pitch in an attempt to communicate her displeasure and confusion with her sister’s chosen attire.

  “A coat,” Natasha responded, a bit of mirth in her voice. Yelena furrowed her brow, trying to figure out why Natasha had left the bed in the first place if she was cold.

  “You’re cold… Get back in bed here and we’ll both be warm,” Yelena protested, grabbing at her and trying to gain purchase so she could tug the woman down onto the bed. She felt Natasha bend down and kiss her forehead with a chuckle, her warm breath passing over Yelena’s eyelids as she pulled away.

  “Come on. I’m serious. You’ve got to get up, little one,” Natasha encouraged, squeezing Yelena’s shoulder and shaking it a bit. Yelena whined as Natasha started tugging at the covers and pulling them away from her. Yelena held onto them halfheartedly in her hands.

  However, her eyes shot wide open as soon as Natasha jerked the sheets and blankets off of her. She immediately closed in on herself, the cool air of the room flooding over her.

  “What the—”

  “Get up and look,” Natasha told her, pointing at the window.

  “Fine!” Yelena groaned loudly with irritation and stepped quickly on the floor, aiming to look out the window and head straight back for bed. She almost jumped out of her skin when she realized the floor was freezing, a yelp escaping her throat. She quickly ran over for the window.

  But her cold feet were completely forgotten when her eyes met the gorgeous sight out the window.

  There was a thick coating of pristine white snow outside, the stuff covering everything in a gorgeous layer of beauty. However, all that Yelena could think about was the fact that she had not had the opportunity to slow down and play in snow since she and Natasha were children.

  “Wow,” Yelena spoke under her breath, her eyes wide as she took it all in eagerly.

  “You like?” Natasha questioned, approaching Yelena’s side with ease and trying to catch Yelena’s eyes with her own affectionate gaze. Yelena stared for a little while longer at the snow before turning to look at Natasha with a raised eyebrow.

  “I thought you said you had a surprise,” Yelena told her.

  “I did. That was the surprise,” Natasha replied, and Yelena could see the smile tugging at the corners of her lips as Natasha looked over at her.

  “That was the sky’s surprise,” Yelena corrected her with a smirk, too giddy with the whole thing to remain too serious in her teasing.

  “My surprise, too, though. The sky wasn’t the one waking you up to see it before anything messed it up,” Natasha spoke with a shrug. Yelena shook her head, turning to start getting dressed to go outside and play in it.

  “Taking credit for the sky’s doings… Such a poser,” Yelena told her, an increasingly growing grin on her face as she swiftly threw off her nightclothes and started putting on her thick, winter clothes.

  “I think I should’ve left you in bed,” Natasha acknowledged, mock irritation in her voice, but Yelena could hear the teasing in the undertones of the older woman’s voice. Yelena rolled her eyes, pulling on her boots and shrugging her coat on her shoulders before zipping it up quickly.

  “C’mon, poser, let’s go!” Yelena cried with excitement that she could not quite hold back. She hurried over to Natasha, grabbing her hand and practically dragging her out of the door. She charged out the door, stopping just before she hit the snow in the yard. She just gazed at all of it, noting with happiness how her breath blew in a hazy fog around her. She could not help but grin widely as she looked back at Natasha. To her surprise, Natasha was just looking at her, an adoring smile on her face.

  Yelena squeezed Natasha’s hand tightly before letting go and running out into the snow. She immediately stopped as soon as she was a small distance away, and she spun around to face her sister, a wild look in her eyes. Natasha was following in her footsteps, her hands in her pockets as she watched Yelena.

  “Let’s make snow angels,” Yelena announced with a goofy smile, and Natasha just chuckled.

  “Seriously?”

  “This is my surprise, so we do what I want with it,” Yelena shot back and Natasha just shook her head fondly before laying down in the snow not too far from Yelena. The both of them waved their arms and legs, making imprints in the snow. Yelena could not help but giggle as soon as she got up from the snow, and Natasha chuckled a bit as well. However, as she stood and looked at the angels they made, she lost a little of the smile as she studied them.

  “Y’know, I’m not sure why they’re called snow angels,” Yelena pointed out, her hands on her hips as she observed their handiwork. Natasha got up and stood next to her, tilting her head.

  “I don’t think I’ve put that much thought into it,” Natasha acknowledged, and Yelena squinted a bit at them.

  “They look like moths,” Yelena announced, and she could feel Natasha’s eyes on her immediately. It almost made Yelena laugh, but she was too focused on the fact that she had finally figured out what snow angels truly look like.

  “What?”

  “They should be called snow moths,” Yelena resolutely announced, and Natasha shook her head, shifting her gaze between the snow angels and Yelena’s face. Yelena could see her confusion, and she shrugged nonchalantly.

  “They look like moths to me,” Yelena insisted, and Natasha shook her head just as stubbornly.

  “I don’t see it.”

  “Most normal people cannot,” Yelena told her with a bit of a smirk on her face. Natasha raised an eyebrow with a smirk on her face.

  “Apparently only weirdos see it.”

  “No. Only special, talented people can see it,” Yelena proclaimed, and Natasha just raised an eyebrow in response. Yelena flashed a grin at her big sister before looking around and considering what they could do next.

  “Ooh, I have an idea! Let’s build a snowman!” Yelena announced excitedly, and Natasha just huffed a little, but Yelena could easily see the small smile pulling its way across her face.

  “Okay, little one. Let’s do it.” Yelena started rolling a ball of snow as the redhead started rolling her own.

  Yelena excitedly was rolling hers as quickly as she could, thrilled with the idea, and Natasha was going a little slower. Soon enough, Yelena had the base of the snowman ready. Natasha had just finished a smaller one, and she came over, putting the middle on the snowman.

  “Here, I’ll roll the head and you can go get his eyes, nose, and mouth,” Natasha told her, and Yelena was so thrilled with the whole thing that she could not even bring herself to give the redhead a hard time because of her bossiness.

  Once she had gathered some gravel from the driveway and found a slightly moldy carrot in the fridge after extensive searching— both of them but particularly Natasha had a bad habit of just stuffing things in the fridge when they got home with groceries and sometimes things got lost in there and ended up half-rotted when they found it again—Yelena headed back outside to decorate the snowman. Yelena came over and stuck the nose in the snowman’s head firmly, and Natasha furrowed her brow.

  “Where did you find the carrots? I’ve been looking in the fridge for a while for these,” Natasha acknowledged, furrowing her brow as she eyed the blonde. Yelena shrugged her shoulders as she stuck the pebbles of the eyes and mouth in the head.

  “I just looked for the only thing in there that matched your hair’s exact shade,” Yelena replied, and she could feel Natasha’s disapproving glare. The corner of Yelena’s lips quirked upward as she flashed her honey-green eyes in Natasha’s direction.

  She then stepped backward so they could observe the snowman.

  “Huh… It’s missing something,” Yelena murmured to herself, and Natasha looked at her quizzically. Yelena suddenly grinned, an idea coming to mind as she hurried over to a nearby pine tree and pulled a branch from it. She grabbed the pine needles and inserted them into the snowman’s head, making it look as if it had hair.

  She then started rolling up some snow.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making a snowwoman!” Yelena announced before finishing the snowball she had made and starting to meld the snow onto the snowperson’s chest.

  “You have got to be kidding me…”

  “I’m one hundred percent serious,” Yelena informed her, a giant smile coming across her face as she glanced in her sister’s direction and took out a bit of the snow in the middle of the snowperson’s chest in order to make it look like that of a female.

  When she stepped away this time, her grin was ear-splitting and she looked in Natasha’s direction, extremely proud of her handiwork. Natasha just sighed deeply and shook her head.

  “Well… At least it’s not a snowman,” Natasha commented, putting an emphasis on the male part of the word. Yelena’s eyes went wide as an even better idea for their snowperson came to her mind.

  “Oh, wait!!! But it could be! That would be so much better!!!” Yelena cried excitedly, immediately kneeling down and starting to make the parts she needed to make a male snowperson.

  “No, no, and no! We’re not doing that,” Natasha adamantly informed her, and Yelena cackled gleefully as she started rolling a cylinder shape.

  “Yes, yes, and yes!” Yelena proclaimed, grinning widely as she continued to roll.

  However, after just a moment, she was suddenly hit in the back of the head with something cold. Yelena froze, furrowing her brow and snapping her head back to look at her older sister. Natasha was just grinning at her, holding a snowball in her hand. Yelena’s eyes lit up with the challenge.

  But at the same time, she did know that Natasha was just trying to distract her from making the snowman’s anatomy. So she kept going in her efforts.

  To her immense irritation and annoyance, the snowballs kept coming, hitting her in the back, the head, and anywhere else Natasha could land them. However, when she finally got hit in the butt with a snowball, Yelena was done trying to make her genius idea come to fruition.

  So she grabbed her cylinder and threw it at Natasha full-force. Natasha let out a strangled yelp, dodging the packed snow. Yelena laughed wickedly at the look on Natasha’s face as she gaped at the blonde.

  “Did you just throw the snowman’s penis at me?!!!”

  “Well, since you seemed to be so obsessed with it!” Yelena told her with an evil smile. Natasha just narrowed her eyes, playfulness alight in her light greens.

  They both just stood there quietly staring at each other for a long time, neither of them making a move as they carefully watched for the other’s next move. Yelena finally could not resist it any longer, and she snatched a wad of snow and packed it swiftly, running to the side as she readied it. Natasha had grabbed her own, and she was already readying for launching.

  Yelena tried to dodge as Natasha swiftly landed the snowball in the blonde’s shoulder. Yelena grunted but quickly threw her own, landing it in Natasha’s face. Natasha was disoriented for a moment, trying to get the snow out of her eye and recuperate from the sting, and Yelena used this as her opening to make a ton of snowballs.

  As soon as Natasha was getting her bearings, Yelena chucked three more snowballs in quick succession at her, managing to hit both of Natasha’s shoulders and her chest. Natasha started to retreat, running in the opposite direction, but Yelena was not going to let her escape that easily. She swiftly balled up three more, hauling her first one as hard as she could and hitting Natasha in the back of the head firmly.

  She laughed joyously when she saw Natasha fall forward in the snow. She happily hurried up to her, throwing her remaining ammunition and hitting Natasha with them. To her amazement, Natasha had not made a move to get up from her fall.

  “What’s wrong, you big poser? Can’t take a hit?” Yelena questioned, grinning victoriously as she formed her next snowball in her hand and just watched Natasha’s form there in the snow on the ground. Natasha did not move, and Yelena chuckled, stepping nearer with her snowball prepped.

  “Come on, queen drama. You really are a poser,” Yelena baited, her eyes sparkling as she eagerly awaited for that telltale flash of red that would signify her sister’s return to the game.

  However, Natasha did not get up or respond. After a long moment, Yelena’s smile slowly faded as she gazed at her sister. Some part of her was extremely distrustful of this scenario, but another larger and more innocent part of her was worried a bit. Yelena hesitantly stepped closer.

  “Natashka?” Yelena hesitantly spoke, and Natasha remained unresponsive. Yelena soon found the concern starting to overcome her as she started to bend down toward her sister, hesitantly reaching out for her shoulder.

  “Hey, are you okay—”

  Yelena was swiftly interrupted by Natasha’s arms reaching out and grabbing her as she tumbled her into the snow, the both of them rolling in the white stuff. Natasha landed on top as she had so obviously planned, and Yelena fought against her, trying to get her off. She glowered at the redhead as Natasha just sat on top of her with a giant grin on her face and her light greens alight with love and mischief.

  “Ahh…. Little one … I would have thought you learned not to trust one of the oldest tricks in the book,” Natasha scolded playfully. Yelena just growled under her breath and looked away from Natasha’s gloating face, cursing the fact that she had fallen for it so childishly.

  “I guess you’ll do better next time,” Natasha spoke, and Yelena looked in her direction just a little too late as Natasha stuffed snow down the front of her coat. Yelena shrieked, and Natasha swiftly jumped off of her, taking off running through the snow. Yelena got up, running after her with no hesitation despite the fact that freezing cold, now melting snow was running down her chest and torso.

  “YOU POSER!!! GET BACK HERE!!!” Yelena screamed at the top of her lungs, and Natasha just laughed wickedly, her red braids flying behind her wildly. Yelena felt a grin coming onto her face despite her severe disadvantage. This was extremely fun even though she was freezing to death at this very moment.

  Yelena kicked in the speed, noticing that Natasha was slowing down just a bit in what was an obvious attempt to goad the blonde. She was looking behind at her at Yelena with a way too pleased look on her face.

  However, before Natasha could start running at full speed again, Yelena jumped, tackling her into the snow, the both of them getting the whiteness in their hair and all over them. Natasha had landed on her front and Yelena was resting on the redhead’s back with her arms wrapped tightly around her sister’s middle.

  Natasha had the breath knocked from her, but she was still laughing ridiculously loudly, her entire face contorted with the mirth. Yelena could not help but breathlessly laugh along, lowering her head so that her forehead was pressed against Natasha’s neck and shoulder area.

  “Now that I’ve got you in my clutches, what should I do to you?” Yelena asked her big sister, a big smile on her face despite her irritation with Natasha’s earlier moves.

  “Hug me, squeeze me, and take me home and call me your own?” Natasha playfully asked, quirking that signature eyebrow as she looked over her shoulder at Yelena who had now rested her chin on Natasha’s shoulder blade. Yelena just laughed in response, trying to keep away the chill now that she had slowed down. She almost found herself agreeing to it not only because of her own temperature but also because of the positively glowing sisterly love in Natasha’s eyes that just made Yelena want to curl up somewhere warm and snuggle close to her.

  “Eh… Sounds too pacifist for me. You deserve something spicier,” Yelena informed her just before slamming cold snow on the back of Natasha’s neck. Natasha gasped from the sheer cold of it all, and Yelena cackled happily as she raised up from her sister.

  “Alright… alright… Seriously… Let’s do your idea. I’m cold,” Yelena informed her, offering her hand to her older sister. Natasha took it gladly, letting the blonde help her up.

  “Come here, sweetie,” Natasha unzipped her coat and opened her arms, a mock sympathetic look on her face, and Yelena just eyed her grumpily but nevertheless stepped into her arms and leaned her head over, letting it rest against Natasha’s chest as she wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist under the coat. Natasha chuckled warmly under her breath and moved her coat so that it encircled the blonde. Yelena smiled a little with the sudden flood of warmth and the comforting scent.

  “Ya tebya lyublyu ,” Natasha whispered, her nose near Yelena’s ear and her breath blowing warm against it. Yelena rolled her eyes and cuddled closer to her, murmuring her reply as she just tried to get closer.

  It was a fun snow day. One that she had not had the privilege of enjoying for far too long.

[likeiwishiknew]

Azriel x Gwyn - The Jump

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29716227/chapters/73319802

He was not a fan of birthdays. 

He certainly never celebrated his own. 

But the Night Court, his family, enjoyed them plenty. Though, admittedly, they enjoyed any occasion where they could all gather together for good fun and good wine. 

Tonight was Nesta’s birthday, and Cassian had gone all out on decorating the House of Wind. Rhys had gifted the place to Cassian and Nesta in honor of their mating, but Azriel still kept rooms here. The pair had insisted upon it, saying that it was much his home as it was theirs. 

Azriel wasn’t so sure about that. Home...he didn’t quite know what that was supposed to feel like. 

He stood off to the side as he always did, watching the revelry. 

Mor was speaking to Emerie. There was an ease between them that he was quite certain he’d never before seen from the female who’d once consumed his thoughts. 

It was no question that Mor was beautiful. He would always acknowledge that, would always care for her, but after centuries of pining after her, he found, in recent years, she no longer affected him the way she used to. And in truth, he was grateful for it. 

Over the centuries he’d tried to convince himself to be content with what they had. That her companionship, her friendship was enough. But that was the thing about one-sided love. No matter how hard you might feign contentment at being able to remain by their side, a part of you would always hope for more. And a heart that yearned for someone who showed no reciprocation was bound to become bitter. 

He was no exception.

One would think it would’ve made him wise enough not to ensure he never fell into the same pattern again. But he damn near had. 

Elain Archeron was lovely, gentle, and seemed to have shared his attraction. 

She was also another’s mate. 

He and Rhys had almost come to blows over Azriel attraction to the middle Archeron sister. His brother had gone as far as ordering him to stay away. An order that had irked him and had the dominant side of him almost determined to go against his High Lord’s order, if for no other reason than to prove his will was no one’s to command. However, time and some distance had given him perspective. He’d come to realize that perhaps it wasn’t so much Elain that he wanted but the idea of her. The idea of belonging with someone so beautiful and soft. The idea of being made whole, the way his brothers had when they’d found their mates. 

That was what he wanted, to feel whole. To be unbroken. 

His quiet introspection was interrupted by a burst of laughter. His eyes darted across the room at the almost musical sound. He caught sight of Gwyn speaking to Nesta and Cassian. Her face alight with happiness.

He hadn’t seen her since their uncomfortable encounter at the shop.

The sight of her put him in good spirits. Until he noticed the excessive rosy tint to her complexion. It took him a second to realize the issue. 

She was drunk, or at least well on her way to it. 

What the hell? 

He headed to where she was, eating up the distance in a few long strides. 

Cassian was the first to notice his approach. His brother gave him an interested look. Perhaps, surprised to see him headed toward people rather than away from them. 

He came up beside Gwyn, something she would normally detect immediately. But with her dulled senses she took far too long to notice. 

When she finally did she only looked up at him in confusion, like she did not know who he was. 

“Are you drunk?” he asked concerned. 

A mischievous smile crossed her face, recognition in her eyes at the sound of his voice.

“Maybe just a tiny bit,” she admitted, raising her fingers to emphasize how tiny. 

Nesta spoke up, “It hadn’t occurred to me how low her alcohol tolerance would be. Though, in retrospect, it should’ve. I doubt she grew up drinking much at the temple.” 

“I feel great though,” Gwyn interjected. 

Cassian gave her an affectionate smile. His friend looked as though he found this amusing. Azriel did not. He wanted to insist she go rest and sober up, but he knew in his gut she would not appreciate being ordered about. 

“Perhaps, you should like to get some air,” he offered instead. 

Her smile grew wider and she nodded, “That is a most excellent idea.” 

She turned to Nesta and Cassian, “Would you the two of you like to join?” 

Nesta smiled at her friend.

“I think we’ll stay inside, mingle with the others. But you’ll be safe with Azriel,” his brother’s mate started saying, only to meet his eyes, “Right, Az?” 

He returned her stare, “Of course.”

Nesta gave an approving nod and took Cassian by the hand, leading him away. 

Azriel offered Gwyn his arm, uncertain she’d be able to make her way to the balcony without some assistance. He waited for her to scoff, offended, but she took it with no protest. 

He led her over to the double doors leading to the balcony and pushed them open.

Releasing his arm, she rushed to the edge. Her face was awash with wonder as she took in the light of the stars, almost as if seeing them for the very first time.

He quietly observed as she took a deep breath, taking in the cool night air. 

“You know I never knew how much I missed the sky until I saw it for the first time again after spending nearly two years locked away in the dark,” she confessed, a smile on her face, “I thank the stars, that I found the courage to meet Nesta and Cassian up here that first day.” 

He did too. 

In moments like this, he was in awe of her. This young woman, whose soul remained bright, whose heart still managed to be grateful, even after all she’d endured. 

Gwyn spun back around to him, “Shall we play a game?” she teased. 

He smirked at her, “What sort of game?”

“A trust game,” she hopped up onto the ledge, sending his heart damn near leaping out of his chest.

“What are you doing?” 

She stood facing him and shot him a playful smile. 

“Game starts...now!” she called out, letting herself fall backward off the ledge. 

Fuck. He cursed. 

He spread his wings and jumped after her. 

She was falling fast, but he was faster. He swept her up into his arms and pulled her close. Moments later, he had them touching down gently on the ground below. 

“What the hell was that!?” his voice near shouting. 

Gwyn tapped her chin in thought, “I believe humans call it a trust fall.” 

His brows furrowed in annoyance, “You could’ve been hurt.”

She stared at him, looking genuinely surprised at his frustration, “I only did it because I knew it was safe.” 

“Jumping off a balcony when you cannot fly is hardly safe,” he admonished.

“It is when I know you’ll catch me,” she all but sang back, grinning up at him. 

He fell silent at her admission. He wasn’t sure how to respond. 

So, he shook his head and changed the subject. 

“Let’s get you back into the house.” 

As he readied to fly them back up, she spoke. 

“About the necklace...” she started. 

He winced that the mention, uncertain he wished to discuss it with her in her current state or any state. 

But she was too drunk to pick up on his mood.

“I want you to know I was never angry I was...hurt some. But mostly I was...embarrassed...I think...I don’t...it doesn’t matter,” she trailed off, “I know you didn’t have ill intentions. I’m the one who made assumptions.”

He paused. About what?

“So it wasn’t you who hurt me. It was me. I - never mind, it is silly anyways.”

“No. It’s not. Tell me,” he insisted. 

She hesitated, “I was silly for thinking someone like you would like someone like me.” 

Her admission floored him. Why would she think that?

Any male would be so lucky to -

He stopped himself. He couldn’t have this conservation now. Not when she likely wouldn’t even remember any of this come morning. 

Tucking her close to his chest, he went ahead and winnowed them back upstairs. 

Gwyn glanced around, clearly not understanding how she’d gotten from one place to the next. 

“I’m taking you back to your room,” he declared. 

She shook her head, “You can’t enter the dorm area, priestess’ only.” 

Damn, that was right. Funny how she happened to remember that little detail. 

As though summoned by her sister’s presence, Nesta appeared.

“She’s a bit of mess so it probably would not be wise to bring her downstairs,” the female pointed out, “I’ll take her back to my old rooms, that way if she needs anything I’ll be close by.” 

“It’s alright. I’ll bring her,” he insisted. 

Nesta raised a single brow. 

“I want to make sure she’s fine,” he defended, holding the female’s stare. 

“And you don’t trust that I’d make sure of that?” Nesta returned, with the barest hint of offense. 

“I - Nesta, please, let me do this," he requested. 

She took him in with her all too seeing gaze. 

They stayed like that. Assessing each other, until she realized he wouldn’t yield on this. At which point, she only nodded her assent. He gave a single nod, passing her to take the stairs up. 

Reaching the room in little time at all, he opened the door - taking care not to jostle Gwyn in his arms. 

With steady footsteps, he headed over to the large bed. Kneeling on the edge, he laid her down as gently as possible. 

His shadows danced around her, kissing her skin as though wishing her good night. 

She curled up with his arm. He tried to pull away but she held on tight. 

“Gwyn, Gwyn,” he whispered, to no avail. 

He brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into her face, and she nuzzled his hand. Her hold on him loosening. 

He was about to pull away again when she whispered his name, “Azriel.”

The sound was so faint he wondered if he’d imagined it. He stared down at her, trying to discern if she was awake. But she did not stir. 

His name on her lips brought the tiniest smile to his face. Carefully, he extracted himself from her hold and reluctantly got off the bed. Something inside him calmed at the sight of her peacefully sleeping face. He stared down at the hand she’d held in hers. 

“If there’s anyone who isn’t good enough, it’s me,” he whispered, eyes returning to her.  

He stroked her cheek with his thumb, “Goodnight, Berbara.” 

- - - 

Her head was pounding. 

She had a sour taste on her tongue, and she was unbelievably thirsty.

Turning over in bed, she opened her eyes. It took all of two seconds for her to realize this was not her room. She sat up and frantically looked around. Absolutely nothing looked familiar. 

Staring toward the door Gwyn willed herself to remember how she’d gotten here. 

She took a deep breath and counted down from twenty. By the time she reached ten, everything from the night before came flooding back. Her face heated from embarrassment. 

God, she could not believe she’d done and said those things. 

Glancing on the nightstand she realized someone had placed a jug of water there, along with a glass. She smiled at the thoughtfulness. 

Filling it to the brim, she took a large sip. When she suddenly remembered she had morning plans. 

With Azriel. 

Oh, gods. 

She was never drinking again.

For a brief instant, she considered not showing up. But that idea went as quickly as it had come.

She was a grown woman. She would not hide from her mistakes and avoid Azriel when he’d been nothing but good to her. Despite her ridiculous behavior. With that in mind, she jumped out of bed and quickly hurried back to her own room, to change out her clothes, before heading up to meet him.

Gwyn had just made it past the archway when Azriel turned. He looked almost surprised to see her. Which was strange because surely his shadows had warned him of her approach. 

He watched with keen focus as she approached.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admitted.

She met his handsome gaze head-on, “I wouldn’t miss this. I know how busy you are, and I’m the one who asked you to teach me the technique I found in the old tome.”

For a moment, Azriel said nothing. She started to grow a bit anxious, but thankfully he put her out of her misery. 

“Shall we get started then?” he asked. 

She nodded, getting into a fighting stance. 

And with that, they fell into familiar territory.

- - -

Any unease and tension between them had faded with each calculated movement.

He would have to leave soon. Spymaster business. Nesta mentioned it to her the other day in passing when she’d visited her in the library.

In one final attempt to take him down, she darted forward. But just before her hit landed, he stepped out of the way. Her momentum had her tumbling forward, but before she started to fall Azriel caught her by the arm and pulled her back.

Still off-balance, she didn’t catch herself in time and wound up crashing into his firm chest.

Palm pressed against him, she pulled back. Praying she managed to keep from blushing, she looked up into his warm hazel eyes. 

“Thank you for catching me,” she voiced, and then, remembering events of the night before, she added, “Both times.”

A smile slowly curved his lips. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “You’re welcome, on both counts.”

She knew she was doing a piss poor job of not blushing.

“Oh, also, I meant what I said by way. I know you giving me the necklace didn’t mean what I thought it did. So you don’t have to worry about me having any silly ideas.” 

Gwyn felt him stiffen. Turning her head, she saw his expression had shuttered at her words. Which left her a bit confused. 

Perhaps, her words hurt because they made him think of his own situation. How he pined after a female who already had a mate. It pained her to see him this way, but it wasn’t her place to address it. He wasn’t hers to worry over. 

“Right...well I should go. I mean, I know you have somewhere else to be and so do I so...”

When he said nothing to stop her. She turned to leave.

His voice was so quiet, she almost didn’t hear him, “Gwyn...are we okay?” he asked hesitantly.

She looked over her shoulder at him. She was the one who’d made a fool of herself yet he seemed to be the one beating himself up over his own mistakes. 

She smiled, meaning every word, “We’ll always be okay.”

~~~

Author notes: I thankfully have not been privy to much the fandom drama that apparently has been occurring as of late, and for that I am grateful. But knowing that it is happening somewhat inspired the ending for this chapter. The reminder that no matter the drama: We will be okay. I genuinely enjoy this series, and I obviously ship Gwynriel. But I know that at the end of the day, this is a work of fiction. We’re meant to get enjoyment out of it. Not start petty wars over it. Anyways, that’s all I have to say on the topic and I promise shall not bring it up again because I don’t like to invite negativity into my life. I hope you all enjoy the latest chapter, and if so do please like and comment =D

Bonus notes: 

Me: You’ve determined a schedule Cindy. Do not post until Saturday.

Also me: The world needs more Gwynriel / Azriel x Gwyn content now!

Me:...

Me: Random whims you win again! 

So yeah, let’s just say I’ll post once a week whenever I fancy the chapter complete 😆

~~~

@azrielsshadowsdanceforgwyn @bittermuire @ofstarsanddreams @corrdolium

@brucexselina @inejjg @rhysmoira @gwynnight @fairytamy @bluegold08 @amandapearls @highqueentaey @lioness-says @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens​

@my-fan-side​

[bailey-reaper]

Okay hear me out, what if childhood friends to lovers but it's TABOO 👀 like s/o is a commoner(?) that Barok maybe befriended accompanying Klint around in London once and Klint was honestly just happy that his little brother made a friend so he was supportive. S/o eventually makes a name for themself by excelling in their chosen career (maybe detective?) But otherwise don't have any status or such?

The feelings are mutual but s/o is nervous to say anything because they're aware that they lack the status to be a "worthy"/acceptable partner, so eventually Barok caves and confesses instead? Perhaps with some encouragement from Klint? (I'm feeling like.... 18-20 year old Barok here?) Maybe Klint is cool with it because-at least at this point- he's the head of the family and has a wife so he's not too worried about Barok marrying someone with status as long as they make him happy?

Idk I'm a big sucker for "forbidden romance but it works out anyway" lol thanks!

Headcanons (Forbidden Fruit)

Notes: You're very valid for enjoying forbidden romance, friend! There's something so compelling about it (and it's especially good when things work out!).

S/O is gender neutral (they/them pronouns). Barok refers to them using petnames.

Content Warnings: societal expectations; questioning self-value / worth; class politics

Barok met them, on Ludgate Hill, on his way home from watching Klint in court. He was fascinated by the chalk patterns they were drawing on the pavement and trotted ahead of Klint to ask them what they were doing.

"Going to play hopscotch!" they replied with a big smile, "Want to play too?" upon Barok nodding, they taught him how to play and the two set about hopping from square to square as the game proscribed. Klint hung back to watch as his brother immersed himself in a moment of play that was sweet to observe.

Eventually Barok realised he'd been keeping his brother waiting, "O-Oh! I'm sorry brother... I ... got a bit carried away."

"Nonsense, Barok! It's nice to see you with a friend, are you going to introduce me?"

"Oh!" It dawned on Barok that he hadn't even introduced himself to his new friend, but thanks to Klint introductions were made.

"Everyone calls me 'Trouble'," they said, almost proudly, "Nice to meet you, Barok, Mister Klint."

"M-Mister Klint?" suddenly he felt very old, despite only being in his twenties... Still, it was lovely to see Barok interacting with someone his own age: usually his little brother didn't have much opportunity for being a child, so this was a nice opportunity for him, "... Anyway... perhaps you'd like to come to our house for dinner one day, 'Trouble'?"

"Yea that sounds good! I'm usually here, playing hopscotch or marbles or somethin'! So just come find me, ok Barok?" the younger brother nodded, and promised he would come back to visit his new friend.

Gradually Barok and Trouble would become thick as thieves, playing games together and going on adventures. They were easily his best friend, and Klint was more than happy to let the friendship blossom.

As the two grow older, Barok started to notice just how fond he was of his friend while they became increasingly aware of the class divide between them –– Barok was of noble blood, even they'd heard of the van Zieks family. There were a few people telling them that their friendship with the younger son was unusual indeed, but why was that? Barok was just a kid, like anyone else...

The years leaf by and despite the odds their friendship remained strong, even when Barok left to attend university –– he would regularly write to his friend, Trouble, who had joined Scotland Yard as an apprentice.

When they meet again, as young adults, there's definitely an attraction between them but Trouble is unwilling to acknowledge it or act upon it. Their time in the Yard has taught them even more about the class divide, and they're pretty sure that eventually Barok is going to tell them that he cannot be seen associating with them because they're a lowly commoner.

It stings to think about that conversation, but surely one day it has to come? One day he'll have to put his status before his friendship, and they're dreading it...

From Barok's perspective, he's struggling with his ever-growing feelings toward his friend and the feeling that things are strained between them. Is that his fault? Is he making it awkward for them? Of course, Barok's also concerned about harbouring such fondness for them because he doubts he'd be allowed to pursue such a relationship –– though he would very much like to

Thus, for a while, the two quietly agonise over their respective feelings / positions, and it becomes clear to Klint that something is weighing heavily on his brother's mind and so, in true Klint fashion, he takes his brother out (probably to a pub) to ask him directly what's troubling him so.

After quite a bit of cajoling (and a few drinks), Barok fesses up about what's going on in his head and his heart: he's had fond feelings toward his childhood friend for a while now, and those feelings have only grown stronger, and not only does his friend seem to be growing distant (he fears because he makes them awkward) but he also feels despondent because it's not something he can act upon, being of 'noble' blood.

Klint pats Barok's shoulder and says, "Well, all you need is the blessing of the master of the family, don't you?" to which his younger brother nods, "Well, you have it, Barok. Your happiness means far much more to me than the standing of your beloved. I don't care if they're a commoner or a member of royalty, so long as they make you happy. I can handle the politics, alright?"

That gives Barok the confidence to, in his own awkward yet adorable way, confess to his beloved friend that he has feelings for them and he'd like to be with them –– if they'll have him.

Barok's confession startles them, because when he said 'I need to talk to you' they'd wholly expected the conversation they've long been dreading: the 'you're a commoner, so I cannot be seen to associate with you anymore' talk. To hear that he had feelings for them and wanted to be with them was unbelievable. "This... isn't a joke, right?" they ask, tentatively.

"It's not a joke," he assures them, "I... have been in love with you for quite some time but I had no idea how to broach the subject. I fear that made me more distant of late and I'd like to apologise for my lack of communication."

"....." all this time they'd thought Barok was plagued with concern for his noble standing, when in reality his feelings toward them had only seemed to grow deeper –– as had their own toward him, but they'd told themself that such thoughts only belonged in fairy stories and dreams, "... Barok I... I... but..." yet doubts still lingered in their mind, "What about your standing? You're a noble, I'm just a commoner..."

"Don't worry about that, my brother has given his blessing to me... we can make this work, if you'll have me... that is."

"Oh..." and now it really does feel like a fairy story, but it's not fiction: it's reality, Barok loves them and wants to be with them and Klint has given his blessing to him being with someone like them. They throw themself into his arms and cuddle him, "Of course I'll have you! I wouldn't want anyone else!"

[pleathewrites]

Candles in the Sun

chapter 1: the one who drives all evil away

When Ryomen Sukuna was born, the ground shook.

A weeping mother cradles her baby in her weak arms. The sweat cools off her skin with the gusts of rain-scented wind pushing past an open window. Her baby’s heart beats - she can feel it through the pads of her fingers - and she sighs.

Her eyes do not betray her.

She looks at her child and begs the Gods for mercy to be given - for this world to treat her child as kindly as she vows to because she cannot feel anything but infinite gratitude as her baby looks up at her with bright, red eyes.

Both sets.

Her child has been born with a gift - the blessing of 4 eyes and 4 arms.

*

When Itadori Yuuji is born, his first breath matches the last of his mother’s.

A weeping father holds his daughter’s baby to his chest and begs for the Gods to bring her back.

His prayers are futile, as his daughter’s unblinking eyes remain downward towards her belly, awaiting the arrival of a child she never got the chance to hold.

With the tips of his fingers, using the gentlest pressure, he lowers his daughter’s eyelids and lets her rest.

Her baby cries.

He prays for the strength to give this child the same love and protection he had for his own. He feels the ache in his chest, lungs rattling with every inhale.

He begs his body not to give up on him.

*

It’s an odd feeling, Sukuna’s mouth stretching over his cheek.

He was in the middle of packing up the extra things that had been left behind in his move to Jujutsu High when he had stumbled across the frame that had used to stand upright on his grandfather’s dresser.

“Oh, is that a baby picture? Let me see,” Yuuji feels the words before he hears them.

His knee-jerk reaction is usually to deny the curse, for whatever he’s asking.

“What, no -”

“Let me see or I won’t leave you alone this whole day,” The King of Curses demands, rather childishly.

Yuuji sometimes forgets this guy is supposed to be a thousand years old.

He stares at the picture between his fingers. It’s a capture of one of his earliest memories, a blurry thing that Yuuji only really has random flashes of. He doesn’t remember what the occasion was, but he remembers the exhibit of huge dinosaur fossils and the vibrant green of grass against a rough picnic blanket. He doesn’t remember what they ate for that lunch, but he remembers his grandfather asking an elderly to take a picture of them in front of the museum entrance.

This maybe-five-year-old Yuuji has his mouth open in laughter while his grandfather swings him up to sit on the concrete pillar of a staircase.

His heart mourns.

Sukuna starts to let out whining noises that pull irritatingly at the skin under Yuuji’s eyes. Yuuji grumbles and holds the photo up for the curse’s eye to see.

Sukuna lets out a coo, “You were so cute. Fat,” and just when Yuuji feels the side of his lips tilt up in a smile at the comment, Sukuna continues, “You’re so ugly now.”

Yuuji squawks, “Fuck you!” and slaps his hand over the offending mouth.

The sting against his cheek lingers, though the curse does not.

*

Sukuna is five years old the first time he levitates.

The boy had stomped into his house with muddy shoes, and his mother had asked him to take a bath. He said he didn’t want to. She told him to take one anyways.

He screamed.

And the next thing they both knew, he was 5 feet above the ground, his feet dangling uselessly beneath him, and the tips of his shoulder-length hair brushing the ceiling of their home.

He sees his mother’s eyes widen, and his own breath stutters in the childish fear that maybe he’s doing something bad, and just when he’s about to try and return to the ground, the expression on his mother’s face changes.

She’s laughing.

The first laugh is blurted shock, the second disbelief, and the rest are consistent peals of happy - proud - laughter.

On that day onward, Sukuna’s mother discovered her son’s curse energy bleeds into his temper tantrums.

*

Fushiguro Megumi makes Yuuji’s soul wiggle, Sukuna observes.

The first time Sukuna notices, they’re in an abandoned school and the brat is about to get himself killed by a Special Grade curse that Sukuna could pulverize with a flick of his finger.

He tells Yuuji as so, tells the boy that he could easily help him out, but that he won’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in the way.

Sukuna’s no hero, after all.

When Itadori Yuuji tells Fushiguro Megumi to run away, the energy of Yuuji’s soul seeps into Sukuna’s domain and messes with the physics of the place - and for a split second, Sukuna feels breathless.

Sukuna smiles, ‘Could it be?’

After defeating the Special Grade, Sukuna decides to test something out.

He beats Megumi within an inch of his life, and when he has the boy’s full attention, he rips Itadori Yuuji’s heart straight out of his chest.

Megumi's soul cries.

Sukuna lets out a manic laugh, ‘So it’s true.’

His plan will succeed.

However, when Megumi begins to speak, he foolishly speaks directly to Yuuji about why he had saved him and Sukuna feels the same watery jolt of the brat’s soul and he is immediately sucked back into his Innate Domain.

*

Sukuna burrows further into his cloak as he rummages through the village market.

He huffs.

He hates the townspeople. They always gasp at the sight of his arms and chase him away with their brooms.

But his mother grows weaker every harvest, and the walk from the mountain to the village center takes her nearly half a sun cycle, whereas Sukuna can make the trip in a third of that time.

He tries to recall what was written on his mother’s list when he’s pushed roughly from behind, a gust of wind and scrape of cotton breezing through his side. When he regains his balance, he opens his mouth to yell in complaint only to stop when he notices the person who pushed him is another kid, perhaps around his age, sprinting.

He looks behind him to see an older man - horribly familiar, especially with that stick of his - running toward the kid’s direction.

Sukuna sends a small wave of curse energy aimed at the man’s feet and trips him.

When the man falls flat on his face, Sukuna hurries in the direction of where the kid had run.

It only takes him a few seconds to locate the other kid.

One glance around the area with his four eyes confirms their privacy. Sukuna brings two hands to cup near his mouth and yells, “Hey!”

The kid freezes, at both Sukuna’s voice and the fact that they were running into a dead end.

They turn around, and Sukuna swears his chest rattles.

Stone green eyes shine back at him.

Sukuna swallows, “I know a place you can hide, but we have to go now. That old man won’t stay down for too long.”

The kid nods quickly, and Sukuna leads them through several back alleys of the town until they reach a rundown temple on the outside edge of the village. The two climb up jagged rocks that stick out the sides of the temple, and they don’t stop until they reach the highest floor, climbing through the window into the building.

The kid slides down the wall and tips their head back, swallowing the much-needed air back into their lungs.

When their chest stops heaving, they turn their head towards Sukuna and narrow their eyes at him. Their voice cracks when they ask, “Why did you help me?”

“Why were you being chased by the tomato vendor?” Sukuna counters.

Their lips close and tighten in frustration.

A gust of wind pushes through the temple’s window and knocks back the hood of Sukuna’s cloak, revealing the face he forgot he was hiding.

Emerald eyes widen.

Sukuna’s heart jumps to his throat. He knows he should run, but he’s frozen in place, waiting for a reaction. He can’t help it - his mother told him, time and time again, to never care what other people think of him, and, usually, he listens, but something is rooting him down in his place, faint and inaudible whispers behind his ears, telling him to, ‘Wait.’

“So, you are the boy,” are the next words breathed into the air.

Sukuna doesn’t know how to respond. He both knows and doesn’t know what this other kid is talking about - yes, he is the village monster, but the words, ‘the boy,’ have never been uttered like that.

Like sanctity.

“My mother used to speak of you,” the other continues, using their hands and knees to crawl closer, and closer, until they are close enough to block out the evening sun from Sukuna’s view, “But, we thought you were a myth. In the past ten harvests, she’s never seen you, but she always stayed firm. How odd, that only a year after that she - that I…” they leave off, and Sukuna doesn’t even notice the hand inching towards his face until they stop themselves, their shadow-tinted hand hovering in the air.

He startles backward, head thumping painfully on the stone wall.

The kid retracts quickly, “I’m sorry!”

Sukuna rubs his throbbing head, and the motion lifts his cloak, revealing the second arm that rests beneath his primary, “I-It’s ok,” He tells them, watching the way their eyes stare at the two arms on his left side with something that looks like wonder. He continues after another moment of silence, “What - uhm, I mean… What did your mother…?” He doesn’t know how to ask.

When the child looks back up, kind emerald eyes greet him, “A blessed child, birthed eleven harvests ago. Born with a soul four times as bright.”

Sukuna gasps.

(“Why do I look like this, Mama?”

His mother pauses, before setting her threaded needle on the table. She beckons her son with an outstretched arm, and he follows all the way up to her lap. She smiles warmly as Sukuna repositions himself atop her knee to face her. He waits.

“Sukuna, my boy… You are blessed. A child born with a soul four times as bright.”

The ruddy pink of his eyebrows furrow, “... four... times?”

His mother nods and thumbs under his lower left eye, “Four eyes,” the same hand slides down in a quick movement, and when her fingers wriggle into Sukuna's side, he shrieks in laughter, the sight causing his mother to let out a few giggles of her own, “and four arms!”

“M-Mama, s-stop it!”

Her hand stills and she presses a kiss to the crown of her son’s head.

“A soul brighter than four souls put together.”)

The child assumes his surprise to be fear and reaches out to hold the hand of his lower arm.

“Do not worry, I will not hurt you, or decieve you. I… I would like to be your ally.”

Sukuna thinks he would like that, as well.

“What is your name?” He asks. His mother told him once that he could, ‘obtain a glimpse of a person’s soul by the way they wear their name.’

The child beams, a missing tooth mirroring the one he had lost himself earlier that year, “Chiyoko! You can call me Chiyo, though. I think it’s cute.”

Sukuna thinks so, too.

“My name is Sukuna.”

SUKU - NA: The one who drives evil away.

CLICK TO READ REST OF CHAPTER

[lost-inthedream]

Swimming time leads to heated moment with SF9

☆★ Requested for the writting party

NSFW alert, but it’s more sensual than smut.

For this reaction, let us consider the following ambience: a quite large pool of a rented house in a Summer night + dim yellowish lights + starry peaceful night + holidays.

Scenarios under the cut. Have fun!!

➹ Youngbin:

Likes the idea of swimming at night as a way to relax your bodies from the exciting day you spent together. Helps you at floating on the water, delicately gliding his palms through your back. You feel your spine being crossed by nice caresses, which are also somehow inciting. You know he is not trying anything with you because he said he was tired but, as the man you love, he easily awakes your needs. “I won’t relax with you touching me like this.”

You make the poor guy confused. He stops his motions, resting his hands on your low back instead. You look into each other eyes and he fades his serious expression away replacing it with a loose smirk. “ash, you!” It is not a repressive comment at all.

He takes you to the pool deck in his arms and lies you there, only to lifts himself too and cage you with his arms and legs, water dropping from his hair to your face “I know an alternative way to relax you good.”

“Tell me more about it.”

He leans closer, now propped on his elbows, his hips land on yours and you close your eyes imagining the beautiful love that both of you are about to perform.

➹ Inseong:

Loves that a perfect pool is available only for the two of you whenever you want to jump in. You both orbit around one another with these child-like smiles, softly moving your limbs without fighting the water weight. He extend his arms to call you for him. The affable gesture makes you feel attracted right away and lead to hi. You always craves being grabbed in his zealous embrace.

He holds you in a way that your feet cannot touch the bottom of the deluxe tank. His digits pressing onto your back close to your butt and, higher on your shoulder blade. His neck is right before your face, so accessible that you cannot help setting your lips open there. Inseong sighs 

“Y/N, why are you sucking me now?”

“I don’t know” you confess now wrapping a hand on the area right under his hair. 

He plays with the knot that tights your bikini bra and lets you be. You get sure that eventually your bra is going to be discarded and floating on the water. Your hands plunge again into the water to scratch his broad back and draw some new groans off his mouth.

➹ Jaeyoon:

After actually swimming around and using so much energy, you and him eventually rest on the shallow area of the pool, the soft night breeze being tender to your cool skin. “I am living my best life. Can I say the same about you?” You peck him on the lips and nod. Being alone in a fancy big pool is something hard to top.

You are still looking into each other’s eyes, so you can see when some idea crosses his mind like a comet. “Let’s make it better” he suddenly says.

You tilt your head but take pleasure in his excitement. He pulls you close to him and slicks your wet hair back. Your chest touching his bare one only having your bikini thin fabric as a barrier.

“What about a last swimming?”he suggests before sliding to the deeper area and you observe as he does something that you can’t discern because the dim lights don’t really help. Despite that, in some seconds he shows you his swim briefs in his hands, a daring smirk. You would be too stupid if you not swam completely naked and then did something else underwater.

➹ Dawon:

Being there with his bae makes him so calm and silent. You both feel completely free and inaccessible to the worries from the outside world, plus your drinks are near at hand. What else can you need? You sip from your cup as he remains ethereal in front of you.

 “Can I drink a little bit from yours?” you ask.

 He handles you his cocktail, that was still laying in the deck, right away. You suck from the straw and let the cool liquid cross your tongue and throat. Your feedback is a soft smile, the stick still between your lips.

Before you sip one more time he takes the cup off your hand and give you his lips instead. For a brief time your cold tongue touches his, still warm, still into the nice water his own flavor.  “It surely tastes better from your mouth” he says pulling back for a brief moment.

His words turn that key inside you and all you can do is smash his lips again and feel his back muscles underneath your hands as he forces your panties down by its side straps without pulling them down for real. You slide your hands down and drag them into his swim briefs.

➹ Zuho:

Takes you up on his back and roams around in the water. It starts as a playful activity but you eventually run out all of your energy and just stay there close one to another. You snuggle on his hair and feel your body so lazy. He lets you go down and reach the bottom with your feet. Now that you are face to face you give some attention to the light that reflects on the water and projects wavy sparkles on his face.

“Ju, you’re so pretty.” You sigh.

“You’ve already told me it earlier and millions of times” He chuckles.

You cup his face and sweetly explain the water reflects. He Notices it happens with your face too and takes you by the hand towards the pool degrees.

“Why don’t you take it off?” You are sitting by the stairs and half of your torso is out of the water. You know what he is thinking about, so you just shake your head slightly faking disapproval and untie the knot behind your neck, letting the bra cup fall down and expose your breasts. “Listen, you are the prettiest under this light” he complements you as he comes over and shifting his gaze between your face and your tits.

➹ Rowoon:

Seokwoo has not really noticed how much he needed a holiday out of city until you tell him that you wanted to lend this house with him for some days. Now you were both spending your first night swimming in that luxurious pool. “Now I’m sure you are my angel, Y/N” he speaks out when you reach the pool edge together after crossing its entire extent in a lazy speed. “Why?” you ask him finding it a funny comment.

“Because you brought me here and I’m feeling so good.”

“Of course, I brought my little baby here” you joke at his word choice and poke his nose.

He lifts you so you can wrap your legs around his waist. “Maybe not little but yours and I like when you carry me to especial places.”

You stay like that for a while, without moving more than your mouths and tongues, tilting your heads in opposite directions and breathing through little pauses, until you stop. “Should we get out of here?”

He rejects your idea with a head movement and puts you sitting on the deck, his hands softly part your legs.

➹ Yoo Taeyang:

You and him end up occupying the same sun lounger, being bathed by the moonlight and watched by the stars that night. You even tried to stay each on your own chair but it was impossible. You were now sitting between his legs, your bodies and swimsuits still wet despite your already dry skin. “Baby, I guess I saw a shooting star!” you shout excited.

“Really?”

Taeyang’s reaction makes you furrow your eyebrows. You thought you were both looking at the sky. So you rearrange yourself and face him, now kneeling on the space right in front of his crotch. “Where is your mind at, Tae?”

He laughs it off but you keep waiting for any answer from him. “Okay, I was trying to not get a boner and I’ve succeed. You see.”

You look down on his swim briefs suddenly feeling your lips curl in excitement. Your hands fall like a feather over his soft clothed member, you draw minimal caresses. “Why do you think it would be a problem?”

He pulls you on his lap incite you to move with soft pats on your butt.

➹ Hwiyoung:

You do not notice it, but you are, in fact, tiptoeing towards the pool. Inside it, your boyfriend waited. However he is now distracted because you took some (a lot of) time to go downstairs and meet him. You stare as he crosses the pool by swimming, and getting away from the edge where you stopped at. He looks at your direction as he reaches the opposite end. “Good job, Kyun!” you cheer loud.

He smiles slicking some hair back. “Why are you wearing that?”

How are you supposed to answer to such question? By “that” he certainly means your bikini but what is wrong with it?

“We’re alone. We can swim in a more comfortable way.” He explains getting suddenly embarrassed.

You don’t remove your items but enters the water graciously and floats to him. You first action after he takes your arms is getting your hands down on him and checking his bottom parts. As expected, you find his dick free and hold it. “Be honest. Do you really asked me to swim?”

➹ Chani:

You have just swum to the edge so you could eat some grapes. There was some fresh fruits set over a pretty silver tray. You had your back to Chani as you pluck some purple spheres from its bunch and inserted them into your mouth. You do not see him coming but, his arms wrap around you and he places his chin on your shoulder. The grape that you have in your grip you offer to him, who opens his mouth and chew on it.

You keep taking fruits and feeding both of you. He sometimes peck your shoulders, his rubs are nonstop all over your waist and stomach. His chest glued to your back, you can even sense his soft clad cock, until it is not soft anymore.

“Chani?”

He hums back while chewing, now his hands are crossing your panties line.

You turn your face to the side and look him into the eyes until he fades that serious face and actually tell you what he is planning.

It does not take much until you hold the side of the pool and let him rub himself against your butt.

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 1600~

Summary: Lapis genuinely doesn’t know how many hours (Days? Months? Years?) have passed when light finally graces her eyes once again.

Ah, my first Lapis POV fic! This one has been in my drafts for ages- at least a year and a half. Feels nice to finally have it done.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

________

Finally Free

It’s funny, in a way.

She spent thousands of years trapped inside herself, unable to form... hating the Crystal Gems... fearing the endless destructive conquest of the Diamonds... and yet in the end, the first time she falls in a battle she fought willingly she does so fighting alongside those star-bearing rebels, face-to-face with the very Diamond who abandoned her to Earth to be forgotten to begin with.

And now, she’s gone. Trapped inside herself again. It’s equal parts disorienting as it is concerning. After all, Lapis Lazuli cannot see the world beyond. She has no way of knowing if the Crystal Gems lost or won. No way of knowing if she’ll be shattered at any moment. It’s nerve-racking— suffocating! She wants out. She wants to know.

But no matter what she tries, she can’t manage to pull herself out of this formless limbo on demand. She always imagined that the next time she got struck down she’d reform in an instant... pop right back up like the next day’s dawn, ready to slice the waves and swing her fists like she’s never been shaken to her knees in the first place. Apparently not.

Despite her dearest wishes, it would seem the universe has a higher agenda.

_

Lapis genuinely doesn’t know how many hours (Days? Months? Years?) have passed when light finally graces her eyes once again.

Fittingly, it’s the ocean who greets her first as she hovers midair in the midst of reformation, arms outstretched and coursing with newfound strength as her form fully solidifies. She gently falls to her knees on the sand. With the sun’s energizing warmth kissing the gemstone on her back, she spreads her fingers through the fine granules, her relief at being free from unconsciousness’ cruel prison so palpable and overwhelming that for a moment she’s irrationally terrified she’ll poof again from the intensity of this fierce emotion alone. Her hard-light body remains solid, however. After all, she’s a stubborn Gem. There’s no way she’ll let herself poof as easily as she did this time around ever again.

Coaxing herself to her feet, she makes a clear point of judiciously surveying her surroundings. Her first big clue as to the outcome of the battle is the fact that the Diamond ships still lay broken and motionless in the shallows at the edge of the peninsula. (Not to mention the fact that the Earth is still... well, here.) Directly behind her, she finds a makeshift worktable formed out of a thick board placed over twin stacks of wood, with plenty of human tools scattered across its surface. No one appears to be hanging around Steven’s house right now, but there’s a sizable tarp thrown over the half that Blue’s ship smashed during the battle. That’s good, that insinuates that someone’s alive to begin repairs. Although, wait a minute... Her brow sharply creases as she filters back through recent memory. Wasn’t that ship still leaning against the side of the cliff when she poofed? How’d it get into the water? And how did the arm ship’s thumb get reattached?

Before she can fret about these mysteries further and and risk losing herself to a burst of paranoid panic, she hears her name called from the distance. Attentively, she whirls around, seeking its source.

It’s Peridot, sprinting right towards her across the fine sand as if the rest of this growing, changing world has somehow hurtled to an abrupt stop. But not her. Goodness, never her. She’s always in motion, always manages to be so alive.

And she... she’s changed her outfit. There’s stars everywhere, on her leggings at her knees, in the silhouette formed by the shape of her visor and hair, and plastered proudly right across her chest. Lapis can’t help but give a fond smirk at the sight. It suits her. Now she can finally represent like a true Crystal Gem.

“Lapis!” she exclaims as she crosses the final distance, lands herself face-to-face once more. “You’re finally back!”

For a minuscule moment the green eyes behind that tinted visor glitter with deep affection and relief, and her arms stretch outward as if she intends to envelop her in a tight embrace and never let go, but as oft is the case, the turbulent waves of emotion coursing through this Gem are riddled with more complexity than initial appearances let on. And if there’s one thing Lapis fails to excel at, it’s understanding how to best respond to the nuances of complex emotions. She’s never been much of a people person, even before her capture.

Eventually, the joyful familiarity within Peridot’s expression dims, and— inhaling deep— she steeples her fingers together as if she were an agate merely addressing a subordinate. The tone of her voice becomes bitingly procedural, detached.

(Try as she may, Lapis can’t block the ephemeral ache this new reality elicits at her core as the conversation continues. She clutches at her wrist, shamefully dropping her gaze to the sand.)

“Anyways,” the former Kindergarten technician says evenly, gesturing at the mess littering the beach behind them, “we have a lot of work to do. No time to waste!”

Her brow creases. “But... didn’t we win?”

“We did, yes,” she nods in confirmation. “Bismuth can explain in more depth, but she’s currently on one of the diamond ships. We’re fixing them so we can fly out as backup.”

“Backup? Backup for what?”

Peridot’s cool and collected guise crumples at this query, her hands curling into small fists as she blinks away any lingering evidence of her distress.

“Steven’s in trouble,” she reveals. “We just received a distress message from him yesterday. I’m told he returned to Homeworld with the Diamonds to discuss healing all the corrupted Gems, but...”

“Something went wrong,” she guesses, the shadow of her bangs darkening over her eyes. “They turned on him.”

“Well... we don’t really know what happened. Which is why time is of the essence!” she says with a sudden surge of positive energy, swiftly jabbing her pointer finger in the air. “Follow me, and I’ll show you where we’re working.”

Her old roommate prepares to jog away, towards the other side of the beach where the ships lay in temporary rot and ruin. Time stills in Lapis’ mind, if but for a brief moment, as she watches the sunlight glint at the upper edge of her visor, the refraction producing almost kaleidoscopic patterns in the sand. The choppy rhythm of the ocean, its undulating melody as it washes in and away from shore, uninterrupted... it almost sounds sad. She hums a few bars of a song she wrote back in her solitude, on the moon. And then she realizes, eyes widening... that she never really left that place, did she? In a way, even though she returned to Earth, it’s like she’s still stuck watching everyone from that observation sphere, still barring herself from nurturing her relationships with others out of fear.

Lapis throws her glance out towards the endless horizon, standing tall and erect as the loose pants of her new form billow against her legs in the light breeze. The long-held tension at her core releases. She’s done closing herself off from people. She’s done with feeling trapped and alone. She wants to mend her relationships, not let them erode away.

Which means... she has to at least try to make things right with Peridot. Somehow.

The tide’s pace resumes to its full intensity. At that precise moment, her friend turns on her heels, swiftly preparing to return to their work site.

“Peridot,” she says, quickly stepping forward to catch her shoulder before she can walk off, before she journeys to some distant shore where she can’t follow.

The shorter Gem freezes in place upon the utterance of her name. She doesn’t respond in words initially, lips tightly pursed. Waiting. Hoping.

(Stars, just say it!)

“I... I shouldn’t have run away,” Lapis blurts out, her form growing lighter the second that vocalization crosses the threshold from her guilt-filled subconscious to shining reality. “That was... a huge mistake. And I really wish I could make it up to you, but...” Her scattered focus shifts as she searches for something— anything— to say in further acknowledgement of her regret, eventually landing upon the shattered remnants of wood still strewn across the beach. She sighs sadly, giving her respects. “I’m pretty sure we can both agree that the barn’s a goner.”

Under her hold, Peridot’s once-tense shoulder relaxes. She makes no move to face her, however, still drinking in the no-doubt humbling sight of this planet’s boundless sea

“Well,” she begins slowly. “As long as you work to communicate with your friends whenever you feel overwhelmed in the future, and promise not to kidnap all of my morps into space again, I think we can call it even.”

She places one of her hands atop hers, the action but a small sign of their renewed goodwill.

“In any case, I’m- really glad you’re back,” she says, fondness evident in her tone.

Lapis smiles.

The ocean’s melody is no longer tinged with a companionless melancholy.

_

It’s funny how things can change.

She spent thousands of years terrified of the consequences of being caught as traitor to the Great Diamond Authority, and now she’s planning to illegally commandeer a diamond ship to fly a rescue mission into the stagnant heart of Homeworld. She’s only been a Crystal Gem for the equivalent of a few minutes, and yet she’s already reformed bolder and braver than ever before.

She feels strong. Despite the inherent danger of their task, she feels an ever-building reassurance, fighting amongst her friends. For the first time ever, she finally feels like someone has her back.

Lapis closes her eyes as she reflects on the culmination of her journey, standing confident alongside her dear friend on the bridge of Blue’s ship.

No more searching. No more running. She’s finally free.

[crushzone]

relationship hcs for akiteru 🥺🥺🥺

Hi yes yes YESSS! More love for Akiteru, here we go! 💕

Being in a Relationship with Akiteru Tsukishima 🥰

Let me start off by saying this: if you ever find yourself in a relationship with him, then congratulations, you have very great taste and a wonderful boyfriend. 😘

How it all began:

You met Akiteru at your university. As someone who greatly values academic and genuinely enjoys going to classes, you always wake up a little earlier than you had to, just so you can get a head start. Little did you know that you’d run into the cutest fellow early bird on the first day of your second year.

As expected, the building is peaceful, so quiet, as the only sound are echos from your shoes. But to your surprise, you come across a silhouette of a tall male, sitting with his back to you, in front of the massive window that overlooks the empty university.

When your footsteps come to a stop, he turns to you, lowering the book that he’s holding on to his lap. “Are you here for World War 2 in Cinema?” He asks with a smile.

His smile widens when you respond with a nod, turning around to fully face you with an arm outstretched. “My name is Tsukishima Akiteru! But you can call me Akiteru.”

You walk up to him and shakes his warm hand, as you can’t help but be infected by his genuine smile and warm demeanor.

Also noting how calloused his palms are. Hmm, what could’ve caused that 🤔

From that day on, you two would come to class even earlier; from 10 minutes, to 15, even up to 20, just so you can chit chat.

He’d bring whatever he thought was cool to show you before class too. For instance, he’s gone thrift shopping with his other friends once, and came across a children dinosaur book. It made him very nostalgic as it reminded him of Kei, but he’s also way too excited to share it with you, so he bought it on the whim.

His friends totally gave him a weird look, but they’re like: ok, yea, Akiteru’s just being hella nerdy. The usual.

You would also bring cool things to share with him before class as well, and it makes him really happy when you do.

He’d come home everyday, since the day he’d met you, with a fuzzy feeling in his chest. So he likes to snuggle his side pillow with his warm cheeks squished to it with eyes closed, day dreaming about you.

In a way, you remind him a lot of younger Kei; when he’d have someone to share his interests and passion with. However, he’s well aware that you are not his brother and that his excitement to see you every morning is way too intense for it to be something that’s just platonic.

Is also a very observant person; if you’ve gotten a haircut, re-painted your nails, or is wearing something new, he will instantly compliment you on that. And the bizarre thing is that he’s not even trying to suck up to you, it’s actually how he felt and his eyes automatically notice new things about you, even if they may be subtle.

He’s usually the one asking a lot of questions; he wants to know more about you, where you’re from, your family, your passion, hobbies.

So you were pretty surprised when you found out he’s on Kaji Wild Dogs Volleyball team. You didn’t even know what a Wing Spiker or anything is because you were never really a big sports fan.

When you frankly told him that you do not know much about sports, but is still fruitlessly trying to come up with questions, just so he can talk about his passion some more, he just laugh, a wholesome grin on his cute freaking face. 😩

“It’s okay, Y/n-san, It means a lot to me that you’re trying to understand the sport that’s meant so much to me, but that doesn’t mean you have to force yourself to speak about it for my sake. I have other passions too, and I’d rather speak about what makes the both of us happy.”

Ughh, like how are you so observant!! It’s the big brother intuition, I tell ya. Since Kei barely communicates with him verbally, he’s gotten really good at observing micro-signs.

Which MEANSSS that this man KNOWSSSS you are into him and that he’s got a chance. Oh yea, he knows bby, and he may or may not have denied it for a day, before he’s like, nah dude, I like them too, so I’m going to go for it.

Your name keeps popping up in conversation with his friends, even without his awareness. BUT if there is ever a chance for him to promote you in a conversation, he will not hesitate, and totally go all out.

He is addicted to your smile, and he wants you to keep doing whatever makes you happy.

Will go out of his ways to support your hobbies; e.g. staying up late at night to brainstorm paper ideas with you, and he’s not even in the class your paper’s for.

Speaking of assignments, you guys are the POWER STUDY BUDDY. Like wow, you know those times when you meet up with your friends for a study sesh, but it turns into a distracting mess. No no, not with you two smarties.

There’s this mutual unspoken agreement, the moment he’s asked you to study with him at the library during mid-terms. You’ll be chit chatting about anything in the world on your way to the lib, but the moment you’ve found your work desk, you’re both completely silent as your eyes skim through the pages of your textbook, while his hands scribble like flaming wheels on his notebook.

The only time one of you would speak is when you’re hungry, and you want to stop by the library’s cafe. He will always ask you if you want anything, even if you already have your sandwich in front of you.

And even if you’ve said no, he’ll still buy something extra for you anyway, cuz he knows it’s going to be a late night at the library.

Knows your class schedule by memory, will always walk or offer to drive you home. And he’ll always make sure you actually enter your apartment before leaving.

On days when he cannot be there to drive you home because of practice, he can’t relax until you send him a photo of your cat at home or something haha.

He’s basically your main ride for almost anything, including groceries. He just enjoys spending time with you in general, it doesn’t have to be anything grand, just as long as you are with him, something as dreadful as waiting at the DMV no longer sounds as bad. 

There was never really a distinct moment of when your first date was, because your relationship started off with a very stable friendship of shared interests.

It’s likely that he’ll confess his feelings for you even before he’s officially asked you on a date, because you are so comfortable with each other’s presence. And you’re cool with that, you’ve always wanted a relationship with an S/O who’e like a best friend anyway.

When he confessed, he did it at least expected moments. It was when you were on your way back from grocery shopping together, you noticed a cheesy-looking Halloween shop, so you asked him if he’d be down. You didn’t even have to beg, he’s already turning his car around.

Can I also add that he’s a very smooth and calm driver?

You’ll be trying on the goofiest looking costume, and he cannot help but smile at how perfect you are to him. Then it slips.

You: Look at me, I’m a cat meow meow. Akiteru: *laughs* Wow, what an accurate imitation. You: I know right? I’m not as cute as my cat though. Akiteru: You are very cute to me. 😳

Wow okay, but was that like platonic cute, or romantic cute. You know? Sometimes, people are vague, what can I say. But not Akiteru.

Akiteru: and I meant it. I like you a lot, Y/n-san. He confesses, looking at you with a smile. Like how are you going to say no to that.

Earlier stages:

Congratulations, Akiteru is now your boyfriend. ✨

A lot of the things that had been mentioned above still remains: he’s still just as attentive and observant as he had been from the start.

He has a list on his phone, of all the things you would eye when you go window shopping, the food you crave when you are extra broke that month, and the different things that make you smile so widely, he could’ve sworn your cheeks were about to explode.

He may not be the richest person in the world, but he will go out of his way to bring your cravings/wishes to fruition. For instance, you were craving some vegetarian Ethiopian food, but it was way too pricy for you to splurge, and you can’t decide on just one. Akiteru will go out of his ways to gather all ingredients, and cook everything from scratch, just so you can experience it as identically to the original thing you had craved for.

You also like to cook together a lot, and he’s pretty great in the kitchen. Loves chopping things for you, especially onions, because he hates the way it makes you tear up. 🥺

Calls you pet names that are inspired by all the children books and anime he’d read and watch with Kei, such as “Olive Baby (Olive Oyl from Popeye the Sailor), Dokin-chan~ (From Go! Anpanman), and Lil Tweety (Warner Bros.) ”

He will just text you with “Cuddle Bug? 🐞” and that’s just code for “I want you to spoil me with cuddles right now.”

It’ll usually happen randomly, but you’ve been noticing him doing that a lot after you’ve had a long day at work or after studying. You often wonder if Cuddle Bug was actually meant to be for him, or if it’s because you looked like you needed one. Regardless, you are grateful.

You can never say no to his cuddle requests because he gives some of the best ones you’ve ever experienced.

His favorite cuddle position is when you are laying on his chest, as he bring both arms to wrap around your shoulders, tucking his nose to your hair as he ingrains the memory of your scent to his mind. The feeling of your warm hand on the dip of his broad chest, makes his heart beat a little faster, as he relishes in your presence.

But on days when you know he needs Cuddle Bug most, are when he’d return to university housing after his visit home.

On those days, he will be the one to lay on your nape, face down, as his long arms wrap around your waist, and underneath the curve of your back. Automatically, your fingers find its way to his honey hued hair, running it through his soft strands, massaging his scalp, as you occasionally brush his temple with your thumb.

You could’ve sworn he purrs like a cat whenever you do.

When you ask him how his visit home went, he always assures that it went well, but you wonder if that was the entire truth.

He always seems a little silent after his visits, not being as playful about his teasings, and his smiles being a little less energetic than what you’re used to. 

You were so concerned, you even asked some of his volleyball friends, and all they know was that Akiteru’s brother gives him a hard time, sometimes.

Strange, because Akiteru had only ever said great things about his brother to you: how Kei is a regular player in the team, and that he is killing the game at his blocks. Whenever he talks about his younger brother, his eyes sparkle and his voice booms proudly.

Knowing him, you decide to leave it at that, and not pry further into it. If he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you himself.

He’ll include you in all of his social events, as long as he’s allowed to, and likes to bring you with him whenever his friends want to hangout.

You felt a little bad, because you didn’t want to take away his guy time, but his friends genuinely enjoy your company. They even ask him how you’re doing sometimes, and for him to say hi for them.

Long term:

Okay, so when I say long term, I mean that it’s past the honeymoon phase.

At this point, you guys know each other so well, like it’s the back of your hands.

You also live together now, in a two bedroom apartment, where you turned one of the bedrooms into both your study rooms.

A very adventurous couple: would go hiking and camping all the time. But he’s also kind of a big introvert, so he’s totally down for chill movie nights at home.

And when you watch movies at home, you both SPRAWL out ALLLL over the couch, doesn’t even matter if you are short or tall, you both will take up every inch of the couch.

He’ll occasionally surprise you with some spontaneous dinner dates at home too, because he knows how badly you wish your cat could join you for all the dates you’ve gone to.

On those spontaneous dinner dates, you’ll come home and he’ll greet you in some nice button ups, 3 buttons undone, black trousers, and black dress shoes. When he draws you in a hug, you can smell the faintest cologne on his neck: a mix of caramel, and something subtly spicy but refreshing.

You also understand volleyball a little better now, and is always there to cheer for him to the fullest extent of your lungs, jumping up and down in excitement every time he score.

Whenever he’s feeling a little too exhausted than he intends to, all he needs is to look over at you, and just like that, he’s instantly recharged as he jumps up and down to your wave with a peace sign.

Is also not a clingy boyfriend at all, he trusts and respects you, and you are both very independent with your own set of interests. He’s totally fine not seeing you ALL the time during the day, but you ALWAYS make dinner together a thing (or if not, at least you’ll spend one of your meals together.)

He may not be the best at communication, such as when something’s bothering him, but that is just his way of protecting you of his burden.

And being around Mr.Perceptive, had taught you to be one as well. You pick up on subtle micro-signs, such as when he would count the grains of his rice with chopsticks, before pulling one grain to his lips at a time. You KNOW something bothersome is plaguing his mind when he plays with food.

He opens up to you about his past mistakes and the reason why Kei no longer talks to him very much. He’s very bothered by the way his little brother holes up in his own room when he visits, it makes him feel like a phantom, a walking failure that just occupies his parent’s home.

And every time his facade shatters, you instantly pull him into a hug, just the same way he’s always liked, his long limbs on top of yours, with your digits entangled in his hair.

You got him to work on his communication, clearly expressing the importance of it to you. And though he struggles sometimes, he’s still doing his best to improve.

Is a very clean person, kind of obsessed with keeping the kitchen clean; he cannot enjoy dinner until everything is in place.

Not that uptight about it though, there will be days when he lets it slip. But then he’ll be right back at it, after you’ve gone upstairs to prepare for bed: quickly washing the dishes and wiping everything down.

If that is not some husband energy then I do not know what is. 😩🥰

You jokingly told him how sexy he is, whenever he does home chores, and it’s now become an inside joke. Every time one of you wipes down the counter or puts the dishes away, you’ll turn to each other and wiggle your brows suggestively, before bursting into laughters.

At this point, if you were never good at teasing, you bet you’ve improved significantly just from dating him.

You’ll really worry when Akiteru gets home late from practice, so sometimes, you’ll stop by with his dinner to find that he is alone in the gym, just practicing his spikes.

When that happens, he’ll sit outside to eat with you, stargazing. Then he’ll return to the gym to lock it up,

But on days, when you’d stop by to say hi at the gym, in the morning, his team would great you very warmly. They’re pretty much your family now, and you like to host them at your apartment for potlucks.

Now, every time Akiteru visits home, he’ll bring you with him.

His mother LOVES you, she finds you to be one of the loveliest person she’s ever met, and keeps thanking you for taking such great care of her son.

With you there with him, he no longer feels lost when he’s home, he’s got you! And anytime he gets to see Kei for dinner, he’s just grateful.

Speaking of Kei, he suppose he does not mind you. You share a lot of similar interests with him — well, that would make a lot of sense because you and Akiteru does too, and that man had such a big influence through Kei’s adolescence.

Sometimes, Kei will chill with you and Akiteru at the balcony, your favorite music playing softly in the background as Kei watches his brother practice. You can’t help but smile, when you see that the brothers are slowly reconstructing their relationship.

Kei totally hates how you and Akiteru cheers so loudly at his matches though. Now he has to deal with another person embarrassing him at the stadium lol. (Though he is low key happy you both do 🤭)  

You spoil Akiteru with head massages every night, without fail. And in return, he gives you foot rubs every morning. 

Here’s how it usually goes: You’ll give him a head massage for a good minute, before patting his head, leaning down to gently pucker your lips against his forehead. Then he’d lift his chin with eyes closed, and that is when you’d give him three gentle pecks on the lips before crawling under the covers beside him. “Thank you”, he’d breath gratefully with a content smile, eyes still closed.

You no longer cuddle every night, especially during the hot summer, but you will link your middle and ring fingers as you both drift to sleep, bodies facing each other in a fetal position. 🥺

And on days when he’d wake up before you, he’ll spend a minute studying your adorable sleeping face with a smile. He wants to protect you from the world, to keep you safe in his arms as you both grow stronger together as individuals.

He has no idea how he’s ended up with you, but he thanks the sky every day for granting him your existence. He loves you so much, way more than he could ever put to words. With a gentle kiss to your forehead, you stir awake to see his warm smile, you’ve grown so accustomed to.

“Good morning, y/n-san. I love you, my lil Tweety.” 😘

---------

Taglist (open): @shhhlikeme @ceo-of-daichi @karasu-hoes @super-noya @nonexistent-social-life

[wallgirl]

The Little Nereid Part 5

2200 words, part five of a nine part fanfiction (it ain’t over til it’s over, babes)

Poseidon x OC

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful.

Categories: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending; no NSFW content

---

Since their conversation that night, Dynamene had been in high spirits. Poseidon seemed so much more tangible, so much closer, now that he had allowed her a glimpse into his mind. She found herself yearning for one more moment with the two of them alone. There was so much more she wanted to know about him. She wanted to hear his thoughts on everything. It was a curiosity stronger than anything else she'd felt.

She spent the following days in a dreamy haze, humming her way through chores and afternoons on the beach with her sisters. It seemed like any moment her thoughts were allowed to wander they travelled back to that night with the black ocean and crystalline sky, and those dark eyes that had held her within for the first time in a thousand years.

"Dynamene," called one of her sisters. Dynamene started from where she had been tracing her fingers absently through the warm sand, lost in her dreamy reverie.

"Yes?" She asked, gathering her wits about her.

"You've been sitting there day-dreaming the whole afternoon," Thoe complained. "I thought you were going to help me wash these shells out. I want to make them into bracelets."

"Oh, right," Dynamene blushed, getting to her feet clumsily. "I'm sorry, I'm coming."

From higher up on the beach, closer to the rocky cliffsides, Ianeira watched her sisters converse. She sighed and shook her head at Dynamene's absent-mindedness. "She's completely out of it."

"Spying, are we?" An unexpected voice came from Ianeira's side. Ianeira smiled wryly as she turned to the speaker

"Bold words coming from you," she quipped at Eione, who had come to lean against the rock next to her. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, to be honest," Eione shook the water from her strawberry locks. "Just looking at the view. Guess the difference is that you seem to have an ulterior motive. What troubles you?"

"Dynamene has been... rather out-of-sorts lately," Ianeira answered, turning her gaze back to the Nereids on the beach. "I'm worried about her."

"She's just being a young girl, isn't she, though?" Eione asked, following Ianeira's gaze to Dynamene. "We all went through that phase. Some worse than others." She gave a nostalgic sigh.

"Yes, and we all cringe at it when we've come out on the other end," Ianeira replied. "But her case is... different, and not for the better. I just don't want Dynamene to fall into any trouble."

Eione stared at her sister for a few moments before grinning. "This involves Lord Poseidon, doesn't it?"

It was Ianeira's turn to stare at her sister. "Did Actaea tell you?"

"Did Actaea what? No, silly. I heard your conversation at breakfast last week." Eione tapped her ears. "You all always underestimate these ears of mine. Nothing escapes my hearing, even when I'm not trying."

Ianeira sighed in frustration and shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "I guess it can't be helped, then. Just don't tell any of the others. I don't want anyone else to worry."

"It's too late for that, sister. Everyone already knows," Eione stated matter-of-factly.

Ianeira froze. "Everyone, you say?"

"Oh, Ianeira, look at her!" Eione cried, sweeping her arm down towards the beach. "She's only been acting this way after her birthday meeting with Poseidon! He gave her that bracelet, and she hardly ever takes it off! She spies on him when she sees him pass in the halls! She smiles at him! Do any else of us smile at him?!"

Ianeira bit her lip. "I know. I just don't know how to discourage it..."

"There's no use in that, dear sister," Eione sighed, resting her chin on her hand. "She's completely fallen for him." She looked down towards the beach with a resigned expression.

Ianeira stared at Dynamene in fear. "I am afraid for her."

"You have very right to be. Poseidon really is a sea serpent in a man's skin. If any of the other Olympians asked for our heads on a platter, he'd say, 'whose, and how soon?'" Eione shook her head. "But we can't rein in Dynamene's feelings anymore than we can stop the sunlight. Her feelings are her own."

"I know," murmured Ianeira. "But I have an idea." She briskly turned away. "Swipe Actaea and bring her up to the palace. We need to talk."

"Aye," Eione sighed, running her hand through her frazzled tresses. "I hope you know what you're doing, Ianeira. Too much meddling will only make things worse." She stared back at their youngest sister, hastily sorting shells with Thoe, completely unaware of her elder siblings' exchange. After all, the heart wants most that which it cannot have.

An hour later, Dynamene was following Thoe through the palace, arms laden with sacks of seashells. "Do you really need this much, Thoe?" She whined, shifting the weight in her arms.

"Of course. I'm going to make two for everyone so there's no complaints. I figure that equals out to about 40 shells per sister. Of course, a few will break in the process, so make that closer to 45. Then, multiplying that by every sister, of which there are 49... oh, I shouldn't forget one for Nerites..."

Dynamene groaned silently as she listened to Thoe ramble on, but then a subtle shift in the air nearby caused her to halt. It was a sensation she'd been in-tuned to ever since that night on the beach; the ever-so faint sound of Poseidon's heartbeat.

She quickly set the sacks down, and Thoe turned to look at her in bewilderment. "What - where are you going?" She cried as Dynamene took off down the hall.

"Just the bathroom, I'll be right back!" Dynamene called, her voice distracted. She hadn't had the chance to talk to him since then; she couldn't let herself miss this opportunity.

He was headed out the main doors to go to the ocean. Dynamene sprinted at first to catch up before skidding to a halt just out of sight. Her heart pounded with indecision. Should she make her presence known? Then again, he must already know that she was close by.

"Dynamene," Poseidon said with his back still turned. She jumped before shyly stepping forward from behind the pillar.

"Lord Poseidon," she said quietly.

"Hadn't we already spoken about spying?" he asked, turning partially to look at her.

"I'm not spying, my lord. Just observing," she replied boldly, twisting her hands.

"Hm." He turned away and continued through the open doors out onto the deck. Dynamene remained where she stood, bashfully looking at her hands.

"Weren't you following me?" He called without breaking his stride. She gave a gasp of happy surprise before taking his cue to resume following him, this time close to his side.

""I haven't seen you since last week," she said quietly. "You must be very busy, per usual."

"Movement of tectonic plates in the western Indian Ocean was causing unwanted activity," he said matter-of-factly. "I decided to check in on it myself, seeing as no one else is qualified to do so."

"Ah, yes," Dynamene bumbled. "Tectonic plates. I forget that they call you the Earth-shaker as well."

Poseidon's gaze flitted to the side for a moment. Was he annoyed, or... amused?

"So you'll be spending more time there for the foreseeable future, I take it?" She asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

"It shouldn't take more than a week. Fixing the problem requires a delicate balance, but nothing I haven't handled many times in the past."

"Mm," Dynamene responded, not sure what to say. It wasn't like she had a deep understanding of his work, but she did know what tectonic plates were, and that their movement was capable of causing disaster. Perhaps it was a bigger deal than he was letting on. "Please don't strain yourself," she whispered. She knew he might take the statement as a slight, but she was earnest in her sentiment.

His eyes shifted to her face. "You concern yourself with my well-being?"

That wasn't the response she'd expected. Her face flushed an even deeper red. "I mean no disrespect, my lord."

"It is not possible for me to strain myself. I am a god. The ocean and its movements are my purpose. Concern yourself no longer." Poseidon's words weren't those of anger, but of fact.

"Of course," she murmured. "I have faith in you and your abilities. You are the god of the seas."

By now they had arrived down to the beach. They had come a good distance from the palace, and Dynamene realized they were headed towards a small cove just a little further off. She wondered what his purpose was in going there.

Once they were in the cove, still and serene aside from the splashing of sapphire waves, Poseidon halted. Dynamene waited as he took in the horizon, seemingly scanning for something.

"Come closer," he said, kneeling at the foot of the waves. She stepped forward and knelt beside him, their arms nearly brushing. He took her hand in his and held it into the cool water. Dynamene stared, trying not to come undone from the unexpected contact.

"Close your eyes," he commanded, and she did. Just like before, a surge of energy flowed from him to her. Her eyes darted underneath her eyelids, searching the imagery that filled her mind. There was a vast darkness - the seafloor, perhaps? - then a glint of something orange. Those must be underwater volcanoes. A sudden loud boom, almost deafening despite the fact that she wasn't really hearing it, sounded, making her body jolt and her eyes fly open.

"Those are the plates shifting," he explained. "That's the sound they make as they run against each other. That sound has been repeating for several days. The sea life around it is getting agitated." His gaze rose back to the horizon. "I must return to the fault soon and break up the edges that are making that hideous noise. Only then will the area return to peace."

Dynamene realized that he was still holding onto her hand, and her heart skipped a beat. This time, his grasp was rather gentle, as if he were afraid she'd break if he used too much strength. She was getting up the courage to squeeze his more tightly when, to her disappointment, he pulled away.

They stood, and Dynamene followed his gaze out to the ocean, fascinated. "It's amazing that you can sense all that," she whispered, eyes wide. "I'm a sea-nymph, but I had no idea... It's incredible."

"It is a sense that can improve through practice. Continue using it and you'll be able to pick up on more." Poseidon began to retrace their steps back to the palace. "I needed to check up on the situation anyways. Things are getting worse; I must return as soon as possible."

Dynamene's face fell at the mention of him leaving once more. "I see." She tagged along behind him at a larger distance this time. "Say..." She swallowed hard. "Could... Could you maybe take me along there someday? The deep-sea vents and the strange fish... It all looked so fascinating."

He paused and turned back to her once more. She stared up at him earnestly, seeing her own reflection in his eyes. His eyes trailed down to her wrist, where the bracelet sat faithfully in its place of honor on her wrist. Dynamene followed his gaze, confused.

"You're wearing the bracelet," he said quietly.

Dynamene blushed. "Of course. It is... beloved to me." Her fingers lingered gently on the glistening beads.

"You weren't wearing this beloved gift when we spoke on the beach," he replied.

Dynamene's skin prickled in embarrassment. I wasn't wearing it because I was upset with you. "I wasn't sure if I should wear something so fine to the water." Why are you bringing this up now? Did me not wearing it bother you?

Poseidon stepped closer to her, and she stopped breathing. She knew he heard her heart racing, but she wasn't ashamed anymore. It wasn't like she could hide it anyways. At least she could hear his now as well, just as steady and rhythmic as before.

"I will give you another," he said, his words rather quiet. "It's dull to wear just one bracelet. A pair is more suitable."

Dynamene's eyes widened. Her thoughts momentarily shut-down in the face of his offer.  "I will gladly wear both," she answered after she'd drawn a breath. "I promise."

"I know," he said simply.

She was unable to hold back a wide smile of joy. The one bracelet for her birthday had been more than enough, and now she was going to receive a second? She knew the gesture was not meaningless... But what, exactly, did it mean?

His expression was less rigid as he took in her smile. Then he continued to walk once more. "I cannot waste any more time. I have an audience to hear before I return to the Indian Ocean."

Dynamene's eyebrows rose. He heard audiences at most thrice a year, so this was unexpected news. "An audience? I hope it's not anything - or anyone - bad."

"No," he responded simply. "The audience is your sisters."

Dynamene halted, her expression filled with shock. An audience with my sisters... about what? I wasn't told anything.

Deeply concerned, she ran to catch up to him.

---

Author’s Notes: This chapter took a little longer once again. Like before, I ended up rewriting part of it, but that’s fine. I once again ended up closer to my vision by doing so. I wanted to have it up last night, but a headache kept me from finishing it.

Dynamene is a bold girl sometimes, isn’t she? But now that she knows Poseidon won’t kill her, she doesn’t have to be afraid anymore. not about dying anyways

Okay, but was he going to kill her in part 4? He was prepared to, depending on what she said. He brought his trident for a reason.

But he could’ve killed her for listening in either way, so why didn’t he?

Because, deep down, he does have a soft spot for the Nereids. They’re ocean spirits, and they’ve made up his court for a thousand years; that’s as close as it gets for him. Killing one Nereid means pissing off the rest of the family, and that’s a hassle to deal with. Also... her feelings for him are interesting to him, and not something he’s dealt with from anyone else before. At least, no one he knows. Perhaps he’s selfish and doesn’t want to lose that.

Maybe there’s more to it, but that’s what he tells himself.

[amydancepants-peralta]

from the bottom of my heart

(Hi @dumpsteramy! I am your Secret Santa, and I have finally arrived with your Christmas gift! 🎅🏼 I hope you enjoy xx)

from the bottom of my heart 

For a detective that had - a mere five hours ago - participated in the takedown of one of Brooklyn’s most notorious killers, Jake Peralta knows that he is feeling way too nervous about the tiny parcel that is currently sitting inconspicuously on his kitchen counter.  

He reminds himself of this fact, hands obsessively wiping down each surface one last time in preparation for Amy’s arrival - running through his memory bank of various moments of bad-assery - but try as he might; every single time he glances at the box, wrapped in brown paper and too small to be anything but innocent, his heart leaps back up into his throat all over again.  

It’s possible, he reasons; as he grabs the last pair of dirty socks off the floor and throws them in the direction of the hamper, that it’s because this year is one of the few times that he’s actually had a girlfriend over the holiday season.  

(The reason behind that detail, he’s not entirely sure hasn’t been deliberate, however that’s just a little too much to unpack right now.)

But it’s also possible (and honestly, curse his impeccable detective instincts, because sometimes ignorance truly is bliss) that it’s because of who his girlfriend is this year; and how much he’s already hoping for a hundred or more Christmases together, that his nerves just plain refuse to take a chill pill for a minute or two.  (Or was it whom?  Seriously.  He cannot tell.)

And then, there’s also the minor fact that he’s kinda sorta already completely fallen in love with her - a tiny nicety that he cannot bring himself to say out loud just yet, because that really is a bell that one cannot unring.  But there were implications within that little brown box, connotations of many more years together that hasn’t yet been suggested but that he wants to imagine could actually be possible, and right now he could really do with Terry’s magic 8 ball to give him some kind of sign that everything is going to turn out just fine.  

Just be cool, Peralta.  No biggie if Amy doesn’t like it.  Jake winces, head shaking at his own thought; checking on the takeout keeping warm in the oven.  He really is a terrible liar.  

It’s only the sound of a key sliding into the lock - AMY’S key, because they are dating and have each other’s keys and it really shouldn’t make him this giddy two weeks later but it really does - that pulls Jake’s mind away from his slightly obsessive thoughts, and his face morphs into a happy grin as Amy lets herself in to his apartment.  

Her face is flushed from the cold, half hidden behind a layer of scarves and jacket collars, but then their eyes meet and she smiles and oh, he really is the luckiest guy in all of New York.  

“Hey!  Sorry I’m a little late.  Just got completely swept up in that last bit of paperwork, you know?”  Letting his front door swing shut behind her, she uses her free hand to unwrap the layers of wool, craning her neck to meet Jake’s welcome home kiss.  “But!  I made us some cookies for dessert.  Santa ones, with lots of icing.  You’re gonna love them.”

He gives Amy what he hopes is a convincing smile, helping her slide the last sleeve of her jacket off and casting it on a nearby barstool as her hands wrap around his waist.  “Sounds amazing, babe.”

“Mmm.  More kisses, please.”

It’s a polite request - honestly, he’d have responded the same even if it been a demand - and as a contented smile lifts Jake’s lips he leans in for another kiss, letting this one linger for a moment or two, purely because he can.  

She sighs against his mouth, shuffling closer and planting her palms against his hoodie; reaching up for the zipper as their lips press together once more.

His eyebrows raise as the zipper descends, pulling away slightly as her hands wrap around his now free middle with a secret smile.  She dips her head into his neck, that perfect mixture of flowers and ink that he’s come to know as Amy washing over him, and even though Jake’s technically been here for hours, finally it feels like he’s home.  

The hug continues for a beat, and despite the fact that he’d probably stand here for hours if Amy only asked, Jake breaks the comfortable silence to voice a nagging suspicion.  “Can’t tell if this is a sweet hug from my girlfriend, or a brazen attempt to steal all of my body heat.”

“You know I’m an excellent multi-talker, Peralta.  Clearly, it’s both.”  Her soft lips press against the base of his neck as though offering payment for his services, and Jake’s grip on his girlfriend tightens.  “You’re just so warm, and Brooklyn is so cold tonight.”

“Oh, so this is like a two-for-one deal kinda sitch.”

Amy nods, the soft edge of her chin rubbing along Jake’s collarbone and truly, he could have a thousand more nights just like this.  

Her head lifts slightly, sniffing the air before turning her attention back to Jake.  “Can I smell Thai Guy’s Tom Kha Kai?”

“You can.”

She grins, giving his waist a quick squeeze before releasing him from her warmth-stealing hug.  “Wow.  You definitely win Best Boyfriend for today.”

“Best Boyfriend?  Noice.  If I’d known it was that easy, I would’ve ordered double on standby for future awards.”

Amy grins, chuckling softly before noticing the parcel (because she honestly is the best detective - even if he’ll never say it out loud), letting her hands run along the edges of his hoodie as she pulls away to make a closer inspection.  “What’s this?”

His heart has most definitely returned to it’s seemingly new home at the base of his throat, but somehow Jake manages to persevere.  “Oh, it’s some-nothing really … just something I picked up and it’s nothing really it doesn’t matter.”

Her right eyebrow twitches up, throwing him that look she gets whenever she senses a lead, and Jake sighs. 

“So … I know you know how my mom used to work a lot, since my dad was a leaving jerk who left like a jerk and whatever.”  Amy nods, remaining silent.  “Well, the holidays always paid really well so I spent a lot of them with Nana or Gina or sometimes just me and the tv.”

“And Die Hard.”

“Naturally.  It’s the only Christmas movie worth watching.  And we’d make our own holiday day, somewhere in the week, so the whole actual date thing really wasn’t that big of a deal.  But … we did have this one tradition, that actually started the first Christmas after my dad left.”   

He watches nervously as Amy rounds the counter, using the tip of her perfectly manicured fingers to shuffle the parcel closer to her position, and takes a heavy swallow.  “My mom would buy - and sometimes make - ornaments, and put pictures of us from throughout the year in them.”  Running one hand through his hair, Jake moves until he’s leaning against the opposite side of the bench.  “She said that way, we were celebrating the year that was and making wishes for more of the same.  As you can imagine, as time went on the tree had a bunch of photos of her and I.  It was actually kinda cool.”

“It sounds really lovely, Jake.”

Nodding, Jake points at the package Amy’s nimble fingers have begun toying with, silently encouraging her to lift the lid as he continues.  “Yeah, so … I sort of had this thought that maybe … this year there could be one with us on the tree.”

Giving Jake one last curious glance, Amy lifts the lid of the small brown box, chewing her lower lip as the contents come into view.  

With his stomach feeling like it’s dropped to his feet, Jake leans into the counter, waiting with bated breath for Amy’s response; and she lifts the tiny wreath ornament from it’s resting place, letting the trinket spin as a selfie Jake took of the two of them two months ago flickers in front of their eyes.  

It’s the silence that’s killing him, the need to explain and deflect and pretend everything is fine too strong, and even though Jake knows he’s rambling, the words just start tumbling out of his mouth.  “It’s no biggie, really.  Just something that I thought might be cool.  It’s okay if you hate it, we don’t need to bother next year, thats if there even is a next - ” The gentle press of two of Amy’s fingers against his lips throws Jake into silence, and she holds them in place as she rounds the corner of the kitchen counter again, only pulling away once she’s by his side again.  

“Jake.  I think it’s wonderful.  I could never hate this.”

With the sense of relief flooding through his veins, Jake manages a smile, tucking the strand of hair that’s fallen from Amy’s work appropriate up-do behind her ear.  “Yeah?"

“Yeah.  It’s amazing, actually.”  Her hands come to rest on either side of his neck, the sheer familiarity and comfort of the move subsiding any linger nerves as she looks up at him with the softest gaze.  “A really special tradition, that I cannot wait to continue.  And honestly, I just feel so lucky that you’d want to share it with me.  Thank you, babe.”

Her lips press against his as she pulls him in for a grateful kiss; and even as his hands slide along the smooth edges of Amy’s back, Jake can’t help but think that if there’s anyone in this kitchen that’s lucky, it is most definitely him.  After all, not only does Amy love the tradition, she cannot wait to continue it - and what could be greater than that?

He wraps his arms around Amy completely, pulling her in for a tighter hug as the kiss breaks, and with her chin resting against his shoulder she takes in the rest of her surroundings.

“Hey.  You cleaned!”

Feeling a tiny glimmer of pride at her observation, Jake nods to play it cool.  “Well, you know.  Tis the season, and all that.”

“The cleaning season?”  Gasping, Amy tilts her face back up to Jake with a giant smile.  “Oh my gosh, can you imagine!?  There could be a different cleaning method each day!” 

Her eyes are bright, taking on that special sparkly quality that just takes her beauty levels from one hundred to one thousand as she describes all the different products that could be used, and he is most definitely, absolutely, totally and utterly, head over heels in love with Amy Santiago.  

“Look, all of that sounds amazing, Ames, and I’m sure one day if you wish really hard it might even come true.  But … for now, how about we eat this Best Boyfriend Award winning dinner I ordered and watch some top quality movies on the couch?"

Amy nods, raising one finger in a friendly reprimand.  “But no Die Hard, we watched it just last week.”

“It’s a vintage classic, babe!  The kind of movie that never grows old.”

Her responding eye roll is good-natured in it’s delivery, a gentle slap landing along the line of shoulder.  “Vintage or not, I get to choose the movie tonight.”

Letting out an exaggeratedly defeated sigh, Jake decides that a pre-dinner commiseration cookie is in order, and he lifts the lid to the container as Amy removes their food from the oven.

“Uh, babe … are these the cookies you made?”

“Yeah?”

“They look … neat.”  Jake smiles, one that he knows isn’t very convincing, but he’s also not entirely certain that the lumps he’s discovered in the container are actually cookies - even out of technicality.

Amy’s eyes narrow, abandoning her serving of rice to gaze over Jake’s shoulder, jabbing a finger into his spine.  “Out with it, Peralta.”

“No, it’s nothing, it’s just … have you ever seen that show, Nailed It?”

Her jaw drops, brows raising in obvious indignation as she reaches for one of the lumps.  “Hey!  Eat your damn cookie, detective.  Or don’t go expecting anything to happen with your candy cane tonight.”

“My candy ca- oh!  My ‘candy cane’.  Ha.  Nice euphemism, Ames.”  Winking, he snatches the cookie out of Amy’s protective grip, snarfing it down in one bite.  “Mmm, yummy.  Don’t mind me, just standing here enjoying this deliciously amazing cookie that my incredible girlfriend made for me with her bare hands and doesn’t taste like a salt lick at all.”

Casting a side-eyed glance at Jake as she returns to serving their dinner, Amy mutters something about how she really thought the extra icing would hide the salt taste; and even though it’s probably completely insane, he feels strangely excited at the thought of many more years pretending to enjoy his girlfriend’s cooking.  

The idea of it all - of a mixture of Christmases, Hanukkahs and Noche Bueanas alike filling up their years - makes Jake’s face break out into a stupidly wide grin; and without thinking he reaches for another cookie, this time making no complaint as the salty sweet combination begins to grow on him.  

And truly, there could not be any greater sign that he is completely in love with Amy if he tried.

*

(A few or so years from now, there will be a Christmas tree standing tall in the living room of the  Santiago-Peralta home, covered in ornaments and memories alike.  Their son Mac will place the very last decoration on the tree - a tiny little sonogram of his soon-to-be-born little sister - and Jake will ruffle his hair and remember a time when all of this had only been an unspoken dream.)

[naminethewriter]

Breaking The News

Second Part of the Remus and His Daughter Series     ⬅First | Next➡ 

Here on Ao3

Characters: Patton, Roman, Virgil, Logan

Relationships: platonic LAMP

Rating: T

Words: 2,665

Summary:  After Patton's encounter with Remus, he has to tell his friends about it. It's not as easy as it sounds.

While Patton was searching through his pockets to find his keys, he could already hear Roman inside. Most likely he was practicing his lines for his new show that would premier next month. Roman was the lead (which wasn’t a surprise anymore at this point) and when he’d come home with the news, a huge smile on his lips, Patton had given him a bear hug, baked a cake and called Virgil and Logan over for a celebration (you know, like they did every time). Patton was pretty sure that by now, Roman not only knew his own lines but almost the entire play by heart but he guessed a little extra practice never hurt anyone. Plus he loved watching Roman perform, even if it was just rehearsal.

Finally Patton located his keys, pushed them into the lock and opened the door. After closing it behind him, he hung his keys on their hook on the wall. He slipped out of his shoes and hung up his jacket on the coat rack. (He hadn’t really needed it – it was warm enough – but better be safe than sorry!)

 “I’m home!” Patton called into the now quiet apartment; Roman must’ve heard the door. A moment later, his head appeared in the entrance of their living room.

 “Welcome back, padre! Perfect timing, too. There are a few lines I’d like to run by you if you don’t mind?” Roman asked, giving him a puppy look he knew Patton couldn’t refuse. Not that he wanted to. Actually he was glad to be given an excuse to postpone the discussion about his earlier encounter with Remus until later.

 “Sure, kiddo! Just let me slip into something more comfortable and grab a snack,” Patton said cheerfully.

 “Great!” Roman disappeared back into the living room while Patton went to his own room.

 A few minutes later, Patton entered their living room, now dressed in a loose sweater and long skirt with a plate of apple slices (the healthy snack) and cookies (the tasty snack). Roman was pacing up and down, staring at his script and muttering under his breath. With a fond smile, Patton sat down on their couch.

 “Alright, Super Star! Lay it on me!” Roman grinned at him and handed him the script.

 “Wonderful! So in this scene…” Roman began to enthusiastically explain the context of the lines he wanted to work through, occasionally drifting off into sub-plots or character analysis, making his explanation longer than it needed to be. But Patton didn’t mind. He listened with rapt attention, asked a few questions here and there and slowly ate his snacks. After around 40 minutes, Roman put his pen down after writing the last few notes, looked them over and gave a satisfied nod.

 “Thank you so much, padre. I feel much better about this part now!”

 “You’re welcome,” Patton said with a smile on his lips. “Glad I could be of help!”

 “You always are!” Roman pulled Patton into a hug that he gladly reciprocated. “But I think it is time we prepare for game night. Logan and Virgil are gonna come down in less than an hour!” Patton glanced at the clock and saw that he was right. Roman had let go of him and started to clean up a bit. Patton joined him, fixing the couch while worrying his bottom lip. Should he tell Roman now? Having to repeat himself would be inconvenient but he couldn’t tell how Roman would react to knowing Remus was back. Sure they fought last time they’d seen each other but they were still brothers, right? Roman still cared for Remus, didn’t he?

 Patton had gotten so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t realised that he had stopped smoothing out the couch pillows until Roman called out to him.

 “Patton? Are you alright?” He hovered a few steps away, unsure if he was allowed to touch, worry etched on his face. Patton blinked at him, surprised. He tried to smile reassuringly but he could see Roman’s brows furrowing, so he probably failed.

 “I’m fine, it’s just…” He trailed off, fiddling with the pillow in his hands. Most likely Roman would get mad on instinct, like always when Remus was mentioned. So it would probably be for the best to give him some time to cool down before the others arrived and then he could give a more detailed explanation. He looked to Roman who was patiently waiting for him to continue. Patton took a deep breath.

 “I saw Remus today.” Cautiously, he observed his roommate’s reaction. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Roman was frozen, his worry for Patton still on his face. Then, as if time needed to catch up, many other emotions flickered through his eyes, only a handful of which Patton could catch. There was anger, of course, totally expected but also confusion, sorrow (maybe?) and even a slight sliver of hope. Or maybe that was Patton’s wishful thinking. Finally he settled on, what Patton could best describe as, displeasure.

 “Where?”

 “The mall, on my way back. We didn’t speak though.” Roman gave a sharp nod.

 “I see. Probably for the best. Doubt he’d have anything nice to say anyway,” he practically spit out. Patton wanted to disagree but Roman continued before he could.

 “I’m gonna go change now.” He left, leaving no room for protest. Not that Patton had wanted to. Roman needed time to process, he got that. It had been the right decision, to tell him first. Patton put the pillow down, gave the room a once-over and, deeming it presentable, moved to the kitchen to prepare a simple dinner for the four of them.

   By the time Logan and Virgil arrived, Roman still hadn’t come out of his room. The food was nearly ready when Patton let their two friends in, giving both of them a hug before hurrying back into the kitchen. The other two followed after him. Logan moved to help set the table while Virgil remained by the door, looking around.

 “Where’s Princey?”

 “In his room. He wanted to change.” Virgil nodded, relaxing a bit. Normally Roman would have greeted them at the door as well and the deviation from their routine had caused his anxiety to spike. But hearing Patton’s reassurance eased it again. The three of them together finished preparing dinner and once they were nearly done, Patton asked Virgil to get Roman. He left with a grumble. Logan and Patton finished up and sat down in silence which made it easy to hear the exchange down the hall.

 “Yo, Prince Fancypants” A knock (or maybe a kick, hopefully not) echoed. “Dinner’s ready, you ‘coming?” A muffled response, barely audible from the table before a door opened.

 “Greetings, Emo-Nemo, how nice to have you almost break my door down!” Roman sounded alright, in Patton’s opinion, maybe he wasn’t as worked up as he had feared.

 “Emo-Nemo? Seriously? Also I only kicked your door once, if it broke from that it’s just as weak as that nickname.” They continued their banter on the way back to the table where Roman greeted Logan with his usual gusto but Patton noticed he was avoiding looking at him. It stung a bit, but Patton understood. Remus was a sore subject for all of them and he did bring it up out of nowhere. So he kept on smiling and they fell into pleasant conversation over dinner. Toward the end however, Patton grew quiet, trying to plan out what he was going to say, even if that was never his strong suit. Logan noticed.

 “Are you alright, Patton?” he asked. “You seemed somewhat distracted since we have arrived.” Suddenly everyone’s eyes were on him. Being the centre of attention was another thing that Patton couldn’t count toward his strengths but at one point this evening it would have been necessary anyway. Better now when it seemed like everyone had finished eating. Patton took a deep breath.

 “Well…” He paused, all his preparation flying out of the window when he couldn’t find the right words. “There is something I need to tell you.” He spoke slowly, carefully. Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt. “Something happened on my way home and…” He didn’t get any further because Virgil suddenly sat up straight, eyes wide which startled him into silence.

 “Shit, Pat, did someone attack you? I should’ve gone with you, I had a bad feeling through our shift, but I didn’t think…” Logan placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively stopping his rant, his breathing now a bit rapid.

 “Deep breaths, Virgil. I am sure if Patton had sustained any form of physical or emotional trauma we would have been informed earlier.” Virgil nodded, the movement still a bit too sharp but he followed Logan’s breathing to calm back down.

 “Yeah, kiddo, I promise it’s nothing bad, it’s just –“ Patton stole a glance at Roman, who had his gaze fixed away from all of them, mouth set in a hard line. “– complicated.” Logan’s eyes flickered between the two of them, apparently picking up on the tension but choosing not to comment.

 “Alright…” Virgil said, sounding not completely convinced but at least he was breathing evenly again. Patton cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. ‘Just rip the bandage off, come on,’ he thought to himself before taking a deep breath.

 “I walked back from work through the mall again today,” he began, “to window shop, y’know, maybe visit the shelter, like I do sometimes.” He swallowed, staring at his dirty plate to avoid eye contact, his hands fiddling with a crease on his skirt. “And I ran into Remus, well not literally, I just saw him from across the hall and we didn’t even speak, but…”

 “Hold on!” Virgil interrupted again, but not in panic this time. “You mean Remus as in –“ He pointed at Roman. “– his twin brother, Remus?”

 “Yeah.”

“What? How? When? Why?!?” Virgil sputtered loudly.

 “Erm…” Patton was confused by the barrage of questions.

 “None of those questions are relevant right now, Virgil, especially since he has already told us when and how and cannot answer why. It seems to have been a complete coincidence, am I correct, Patton?”

 “Oh, um, yeah. He seemed to be as surprised to see me as I him at least.”

 “So he did see you? You said you did not speak to him, I assumed he didn’t notice you,” Logan said and adjusted his glasses.

 “No, he did see me, he was just otherwise occupied.”

 “What is that supposed to mean?” Virgil asked, exasperated. Roman scoffed.

 “He was probably flirting with some poor fellow; you know how he is.”

 “Actually, it was pretty much the opposite…”

 “Someone was flirting with him..?” asked Virgil, now unsure.

 “No, no flirting whatsoever. He was there with a kid.”

 “What he’s hanging out with teenagers now?” Roman rolled his eyes. “Not that surprising, honestly, he was always immature.”

 “Could you two please just let Patton finish his explanation?” Logan cut in, his tone sharp. Virgil looked a bit sheepish and Roman scoffed again, avoiding eye contact once more but neither said anything else. Logan motioned for Patton to continue.

 “When I first noticed him, he was standing alone further down the hall and on the other side, staring at something I couldn’t see. I was so caught off guard that I ended up staring.” Patton once again started nervously fiddling with his skirt. “Suddenly he crouched down and this little girl, maybe ten years old, came up to him with ice cream. He picks her up, sees me and we awkwardly wave at each other before the two of them disappear into the crowd.” He helplessly shrugs at the end of his explanation and waits for the others to react.

 For several moments there was silence.

 “Great!” Roman suddenly said loudly, throwing his arms up dramatically. “My brother’s a kidnapper now, just wonderful.” Logan raised an eyebrow.

 “You believe he kidnapped her? For what reason would he do that?”

 “How should I know? I haven’t known what goes on in his head since we were nine! But as if there are any children who would spend time with Remus willingly.” Patton opened his mouth to protest but Virgil spoke first.

 “Do you think she’s the only one or are there more?”

 “Could be! I wouldn’t put it past him. He gets obsessed with the weirdest stuff.”

 “His ‘obsessions’, as you call them, were always academical in nature, he never would inflict any harm on others, intentionally. If he needed a test subject, he would always use himself before anyone else,” Logan protested.

 “And how do you know that, Mr. Research Assistant? I’ve known him my entire life and even I don’t know the boundaries of his insanity! He might not even have any!”

 “You are being ridiculous, Roman. Just because you don not like him, you cannot just assume that he would harm children for some sort of thrill or –“

 “Maybe we should call the police.”

 “See, Virgil’s on my side.”

 “I mean, just as a precaution, he might be dangerous.”

 “You are working off assumptions from five years ago, you cannot –“

 “Oh shut it, Specs, the police can at least make sure he’s not harming anyone –“

 “Nobody’s calling the police!” Patton’s sudden volume cut them all off. He had stood up and was now glaring at them. His eyes softened at their shocked expressions. He took a deep breath and continued calmly.

 “Look, I know Remus did some bad stuff, I won’t defend him on that, but Logan’s right: he never hurt anybody on purpose, at least not physically. And when we dated, neither of us were in a good place and yes, he hurt me badly but that was five years ago. We all changed, so could he, for better or worse. From what I could tell that girl seemed really comfortable with him. Plus Roman, didn’t you say Remus was good with kids when your cousins were visiting one Thanksgiving?” Roman mumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue.

 “We also have no viable information to give the police,” Logan spoke up. ”We have no address, he might have changed his name and none of us have spoken to him in five years. Filing a report would be ludicrous.” He stood up. “Now I believe we should all take a few minutes to calm down before proceeding with the games. If you would excuse me.” He moved to leave the kitchen while simultaneously pulling out his phone.

 “What are you doing?” Virgil asked, eyeing his phone. Logan glanced at him, barely slowing down.

 “I am going to call Janus. Considering that Remus used to be his best friend, I am sure he would be grateful to know that he is indeed still alive.” With that he disappeared down the hall. Silence enveloped the kitchen once again and Patton sat back down. A door opened and closed somewhere in the apartment. Virgil and Roman both pointedly avoided eye contact. After a few moments, Patton sighed.

 “Look, I know you two had your problems with Remus, so did I. And I’m honestly not sure how to feel about this either but regardless of all that, I’m glad to know he’s ok. He’s still a friend and your brother, Roman. Who knows, we might not see him again for another five years. See the positives?” He glanced between the two, waiting for their responses. Virgil just gave a slight nod and Roman pouted, though he did look at least a little bit guilty. Patton gave them a small smile.

 “Alright, kiddos. I’m gonna go set up the living room. You come over once you’re ready, ok?” Two hums were his answer which he could understand as agreements. Satisfied he moved towards the living room but paused in the kitchen doorway.

  “Oh, and if you could clean up the table, that would be great!” Roman and Virgil groaned in unison.

[yeoldontknow]

Sheltered Hearts: 4 (FINAL)

Author’s note: for @iq-biased​. i hope you all enjoy the last part in this series as much as i enjoyed writing it! Paring: Yoongi x Reader (oc; female) Genre: enemies to lovers; vet!au; angst; romance; fluff Rating (this chapter): PG Warnings (this chapter): angst; some discussion of surgery but nothing graphic; a sick doggo who deserves so many kisses and is a good boy; a very soft first kiss; a very soft yoongi :( someone hug him Word count: 7.5K

masterlist

Talia’s hands tremble when you reach out to hug her, the strength in your joints equally as unwavering as the strength of your gaze upon your fingers. For now they are clean, gloves discarded and with them Casper’s blood, but that does not change where they have been, does not erase all that they have touched. You hold her gently, instinctually used to soft touches and gentle movements; lingering in a place and time when any pressure, too hard or too coarse, would cause malleable sinew to sever. The relief in her breath against your shoulder is immeasurable, perhaps her first genuine exhale in hours, but you remain silent, altogether still too aware of your hands, haunted.

‘He’s recovering,’ you hear yourself whisper, though you are unsure of the purpose of this statement. Is it to tether you to the earth? To reassure Talia? You cannot say for certain. It erupts from nowhere, a confident murmur, dawning in the center of your chest and desperate to greet the air within the same second. It is unprompted and likely unprofessional, but it matters, brimming over from the place where emotion latches onto blood. 

Dr. Hague stands behind Yoongi, observant and encouraging, as he details Casper’s rehabilitation plan, voice bright and clear with sunlight nestled into the corner of his words. Even without looking at him, you can hear he is smiling, that boyish yet professional expression he wears when he is proud, still love-drunk from the concept of recovery. She breaks away from you, hanging on his every word and forcing herself not to celebrate too soon.

Casper will be held for several days in observation, the first three days the most imperative when infection or rejection can set in. Should he come out of these days unscathed, he will then be transferred to recovery therapy and then spend five weeks on lead, unable to freely play. It will be hard, he advises, and Talia nods, prepared to try to understand, chewing at the only question love ever allows to settle in a space like this:

When can I see him?

You don’t wait for her to ask the question, air in the room becoming thin and altogether too stale for your liking. Pulling off your surgical cap, you turn abruptly, moving through the waiting area to push your way through the doors and out to the parking lot. In the field across the street, the sun has just begun to set, blood on the grass that illuminates the earth like wildfire. A single breath is not enough to contain this, you think, a moment of fierce victory and delicate, unfathomable frailty. It could snap, this sense of pride and pleasure, one white blood cell rejecting the next would bring this moment to an endless, perpetual night. 

Breathing deep, the smell of the wild flowers finds its way to you, a Spring evening that will eventually fade and fade until other victories and other failures render this moment painfully ordinary. Breathing deep, you cling to this feeling, the understanding that Gods never marvel at their miracles - the knowledge that surgery is not the act of playing with fate and instead is the summation of human suffering, a desperate plea to continue in life’s brief and limited smallness. 

All things live, all things die, and it is a blessing to be present at both. 

The clack of the door closing breaks your thoughts, but you do not open your eyes. You want this moment to last a little longer, regardless of who sees you, aware that these kinds of successes look almost the same as defeat, brutal and unforgiving. Yoongi’s presence lifts the hair on your arms to standing, an energetic cascade of safety and understanding. He moves behind you, drifting from your right to the center of your back to your left and off, somewhere away from you and carried by the doppler effect of his even footsteps. 

He doesn’t speak, and even in this silent awareness that you are being observed you don’t feel pressured to speak with him. Yoongi lets you be, allows you to continue, uninterrupted, and lets you stand in the ever lowering sun, the warmth from the day giving over to a cool breeze, demanding nothing from you. He lingers at the edge of your awareness, a watchful satellite ensuring you are whole and that, if you do break, you do not break alone. When you finally open your eyes, your turn to face him, hands at your sides too full of blood and swollen, now, with excitement. 

Leaning against his car, now in his street clothes, Yoongi stands, arms crossed and expression placid, watching you with a whisper of a smile. Liberated from his scrubs and hugging himself in a thin burgundy hoodie, he no longer is the surgeon or the doctor or the student battling for recognition. Instead, he is simply Min Yoongi, young and handsome and magnificent, watching you as though you are the fading light of the earth, intent on memorizing all your nuanced shades.

For a while, you are content to linger in this silence with him, observing him with the same unfettered focus. Eyes wired, the dimming light catches his irises, making him appear as though he glows from within. Thin lipped, he no longer appears severe in this light, instead he is curious and mercurial, hungry for the truth of things - the truth of you. The last strands of light hold tightly to his hair, lighting him on fire, burning the edges of his aura. 

‘How about that diner?’ he asks with a gentle nod of his head towards his car, recalling his earlier suggestion.

The rumble in your stomach at the suggestion makes you giggle, though you are unsure if it is food you desire or if it is him, moments alone with him to truly see who he is when he does not have to fight to be seen. 

Yoongi orders pancakes as though it would be a sacrilege to eat anything else at a diner, unbothered with the pretense of looking at the menu. In the pale fluorescent light, a pink blush settles on his cheeks, teased to life either by the rush of blood beneath his cheeks or the soft reflection of the red vinyl seat. You feel his eyes on you as you scan the menu, his inquisitive stare taking its time handling your frame. Gripping the edge of your seat, your eyes glaze over, scanning the words and the pictures, idly wondering why you bother with such false shows of interest when, much like Yoongi, you know you will order the waffles - something slightly different, but similar enough in its texture and form that you begin to see Yoongi as your mirror image.

His gaze remains trained on you even after the waiter has departed, arms folded, again, across his chest in a congenial display of interest. You’re not used to such unbridled attention, the kind of focus that comes from learning a person rather than witnessing them. The steel in his features has disappeared, rendering him soft and human and altogether too sincere for your liking, but the stillness in his focus tells you he is disassembling you. Fidgeting in your seat, heat crawls along your skin, joints tense and tongue heavy against your teeth. 

You watch him too, watch the way his head cocks slowly to the side, a small smirk pulling at his lips. Watch the way he lets himself be painted by the light, different now to the sun and do the red and pink and blue kaleidoscope of the sky but equally as mesmerizing. No one is meant to be offered a metamorphosis in this kind of light. No one is meant to become beautiful, but he is. Of course he is. 

Tearing your eyes away, a small act of desperation, you think, you glance around the diner. People are scattered, the empty spaces between occupied tables perhaps larger in number than those seated altogether, but you are glad for the quiet hum of life and motion. Thursday evening, and you would not say this particular location is prone to a rush hour, but it’s peaceful, a reminder that the weather turns, hearts beat, and lungs breathe.

A reminder that some things do not change even if the way you are feeling about Yoongi is.

‘I’m realizing,’ he announces, calling your attention back to him with his smooth, low drawl, ‘that we have only spent time together in the context of work.’

‘You’re just realizing this?’

‘No,’ he admits. ‘But I’m saying why haven’t we? In five weeks, amidst everything, why haven’t we?’

It’s not an unfamiliar question, one you have been mulling over for days at a time. At the clinic, things have changed - even before Casper’s surgery, the way you move around Yoongi has shifted not unlike the planets around the sun. But then, it is not just you who has been altered, moved by this sudden unified desire to help. Yoongi, too, smiles more - the kind where his teeth are on full display and for one, precious moment, he is not afraid of being himself; laughs louder; allows the creases at the center of his eyes to form without worrying he is being unprofessional.

In the past several weeks, you have found more reasons to be beside him, more reasons to ask for his advice, found yourself craving the very concept and theology of more - not necessarily love or a crush, but the threatening start of one, the thunder of your heart just a little louder when he laughs. Some days, it is no longer Dr. Hague’s praise you crave but his, as if he has any bearing on your success, as though a word of approval from him holds more weight than any paper rewarded to you by the nature of your own hard work - as if hours spent challenging him are as valuable as hours alone in a lab, giving over and giving in, allowing yourself to become better because he requires it.

Clearing your throat, you let your eyes wander over his easy smile and his cool, collected demeanor. ‘I don’t know,’ you shrug, a casual display of nonchalance. ‘You never asked.’

Yoongi chuckles, unfolding his arms as he leans a little closer to the table. ‘You didn’t ask, either.’ 

Cocking your brow, you feel yourself smirk, pulling at his words the same way he pulls as yours. ‘Are we calling a truce?’

For a long moment, Yoongi considers your words, mulling them over as his cheeks inflate with air. Folding his arms on the table, he regards you in a playful contest, the diner becoming little more than a boardroom for your false negotiations. Mirroring his position, you rest your arms on the table and narrow your eyes. Chewing at the inside of your cheek, it takes work to swallow the smile you want to offer him, the sort of smile he so badly hides at the corner of his mouth. 

‘At work?’ he says, finally.

You nod, resolute in your role and your intent.

‘Never.’ He falls back into his seat, reclining into the cushion with his eyes full of promise and mirth. You wait for him to speak, somehow hanging on every word, relieved that this rivalry can continue as is, uninterrupted and unchanged, yet still expectant. ‘But outside of work,’ he continues, slowly, his wide smile blossoming, ‘I’d like to be friends.’

Everything about Min Yoongi is infectious, the light in his eyes a dangerous glimmer that demands your surrender. Taking a deep breath, you prepare your words, aware that your acceptance of this offer is a commitment not unlike love, yet carrying with it the potential to last longer, eternal, the purest form of connection that could exist.

 ‘I can do that.’

The arrival of your food ceases all conversation, the growling in your stomach a reminder that you have not eaten since before Casper’s surgery. All morning you had felt uneasy, not nauseous and not queasy, but unable to shake that you were standing at the precipice between fantasy and reality. The statement of wanting to be something is entirely different than the process of becoming, said so long and so often throughout your life that you had almost forgotten that the experience of growth is just as important as the commitment to the desire. And so you had not eaten, certain that the comfort of a meal would distract you from the weight of importance. 

Taking your time arranging your plates of eggs and bacon, gathering your napkin and utensils, you greet your waffles with an enthusiastic smile. Glancing upwards, you find yourself laughing at Yoongi and his childlike glee. He falls into his meal the same way he falls into surgery, with diligence and an edge of impatience, as though the plate itself carried a seduction he found irresistible. Hands idle over your fork and knife, you wonder if this is the enthusiasm with which he falls into everything he desires, unbridled though careful, unsatisfied until he has born witness to and tasted it all, with a fidelity of devotion large enough to cradle the sun.

He cuts into his pancakes with diligence, holding his fork and knife with surgical delicacy as he makes elegant cuts, shaping his pieces with precision. You’re sure it’s just a habit, something he can’t quit after so long of learning to be careful, but you feel the onslaught of your sudden similarities in the center of your chest, a weight becoming harder and harder to disregard. 

‘What you did for Casper was impressive,' he announces, penetrating your thoughts with the cool tones of his voice. 'The foresight required to make that kind of suggestion...to invent something…’ His words evaporate as he chews, glancing from his pancakes to his bacon and back again, unsure which deserves his attention more. Swallowing, he nods, assuming you have already agreed with him. ‘Remarkable.'

The magic of the moment is broken by the implication this is an unusual occurrence, reminded now that, had you been more vocal, more demanding and less angry that the clinic already had a rising star, there would have been more chances, more opportunities to prove this kind of medicine is not a miracle. Briefly, the sterilized antiseptic scent of the graduate school lab hall floods your synapses. All the bones you watched break, only to be put together by someone else; all the innovations, the universal mystery of 3D printing no longer so out of reach; all the advances humanity makes simply because they want to, and because they can. 

What you did for Casper, you think, was not as much impressive as it was the morally correct thing to try. Long ago, you decided magic is real and magic is man made. Magic is the decision of recognizing something is broken and taking the initiative to fix it. 

Casting your attention to your waffles, you grip your utensils with the same tender reverence as Yoongi, hands giving pause to make your first incision. ‘It wasn’t really,' you murmur with a shrug.

Yoongi halts his movements and swallows, blinking at you momentarily bewildered.

‘No?' he snorts, disbelieving. 'Tell that to Talia. That dog might walk again, with all four legs mind you. That never would have happened without you.'

Humming, you nod in mild agreement. ‘I mean sure, objectively, it is.'

Dropping your shoulders, you consider your words, wondering how anyone could explain the way careful hands and cold metal can create structure - not necessarily life - but still something vital, necessary, and powerful just the same; the offer of a new life, created and manifested simply because you want it to be. How could you ever, you wonder, explain that you are not bringing someone back to life, but adding to the concept of it, extending it- challenging, not death but, life itself.

‘But,’ you continue, meeting his eyes once more as you decide on a worthy enough explanation, ‘you have to understand that’s the standard for orthopedics, this kind of specialty.’ 

He eyes you expectantly, hands poised and still, knowing that there is more - so much more you want to say - and leaves you the absolute freedom to say with, unhindered. 

‘In our surgery labs, you should see what you can build. What you can make with your own two hands.’ Relaxing into your seat, your mind races, remembering. ‘It’s a fusion of all the sciences really - bones and soft tissue, metal and construction. You’re not trying to resurrect - yeah, sometimes it can feel like that, but that’s not the point. We aren’t bringing someone back from the brink - we’re pushing them over the limit and ensuring they survive.’

You aren’t entirely sure when you became so hungry - for food, for life, for Yoongi - but it does not escape your attention how painfully emphatic you sound. Nothing, you think, has ever been so important for him to understand, so important for him to feel.

‘I have no interest in playing God,’ you continue, quieter now but just as determined. ‘Not the way you would in cardio or…’

‘Oncology?’

He offers it almost like a challenge, and, perhaps, on a different day, long before you truly could say you knew him, you would have felt as though there was no way to escape the unintentional insult he means to force on you. Instead, you see the way he watches you, considerate and gentle, fully aware this is not a slight at him or his choices, managing instead to leave you room to breathe in the space of accepting his statement.

‘Yeah.’ You hold his gaze, smiling as though you cannot help it, as though smiling at him is the most natural and wonderful thing - made for it, you think, made for the wonder of his pleasure. 

Yoongi smirks, watching you intently, eyes alive with something that makes him look playful and joyful, content to be sharing this moment with you; honored, if only because you decided to let him in.

‘Makes sense,’ he says with a shrug, leaning forward once more to return his attention to his pancakes.

Bewildered, you cock your head to the side. ‘What does?’

‘Why you were resentful before.’ Yoongi reaches across the table, taking the syrup from beside your glass, pouring more over his pancakes and letting it spill onto his bacon. ‘About working here.’ 

Your jaw falls open, mock offence mixing with genuine abjection. ‘It’s not that I was resentful,’ you begin, asserting that you were  neither ungrateful nor bitter. ‘It’s just hard to rationalize how badly you want to help, and how much you know could do, with the limit of your role.’

Even as you say the words, you know they are little more than platitudes you tell yourself - have been telling yourself - to rationalize the level of dejection you experienced. It seems like ages ago, moons upon moons having passed, a dying age when you accepted your stagnancy and put the blame on Yoongi, choosing him as your scapegoat simply because he took control of his life with both hands.

Cocking an eyebrow in your direction, Yoongi laughs, amused and disbelieving. Pointing a strip of bacon in your direction, he refuses you the comfort of your placating sentiments. 

‘You were resentful,’ he states plainly. 

The mischievous glimmer in his eyes is infectious, your cheeks warming with a sheepish blush that has you giggling. ‘Okay, maybe I was,’ you concede. ‘All the typing and filing is wearing out my perfect hands.’

Eyeing you through his lashes as he cuts more of his pancakes, he considers you for a long while, as though you are a mystery he is only just beginning to solve.

‘You did good,’ he says eventually, words gentle and voice full.

The genuine affection you find in the statement catches you off guard, chest tight as your heart stumbles over its natural rhythm. More and more, he has become tender - someone who offers support in the form of silence when you need to be heard; someone unafraid to give encouragement or honesty when you need it most; someone who, after everything you have seen from them, from their strength to their arrogance to their dedication, is nothing more than a boy with a heart too big to be contained in the cage of his sternum. 

Now, with the lights reflecting the neon of the diner and putting the rainbow in his blonde hair, skin pink and warm and eyes almost brutal in their kindness and their candor, Yoongi is a vision - one you do not think you will ever stop admiring.

‘You did, too,’ you murmur, cheeks hot with a blush of embarrassment. You wish you could be loud, unafraid of him hearing just how much it means to you, but softness is what he has pulled out of you, a compassion for people rather than animals you thought had vanished long ago emerging from deep within.

You want to be as confident in this expression as he is, but the fragility of your tenderness is not unlike a fawn, keeping you close to Yoongi so that you can learn. 

‘So here is what I know about you,’ he begins, biting down on his bacon strip and breaking your thoughts. ‘You’re smart, passionate, competitive as hell.’ 

‘You say that like it’s a threat,’ you laugh, cutting into your waffles, the thickness of the atmosphere diluting down to one of amicable comfort.

‘It’s not a bad thing,’ he laughs. ‘In this profession you need that edge. Life doesn’t wait.’ Swallowing, he takes a sip of his water through the straw, lips forming a soft circle that makes you melt, eyes wide and focused on yours. ‘But,’ he continues, ‘I’m still trying to make sense of you.’

Pouting, you grimace. ‘You mean you’ve spent all that time looking at me and that’s all you’ve figured out?’

Yoongi nods with an affable smile, but he does not allow you the comfort of teasing deflection. Instead, he folds his arms on the table and regards you with a tenacity that feels weighted, too heavy for the jovial, easy comfort you have found yourselves in. ‘I think that’s all you let people see.’

Had you not known him to be incisive, the direct comment might have startled you - months ago, you would have been insulted. Now, you find you have to stop yourself from swooning. In the days and weeks you have spent learning Yoongi of your own accord, he has been doing the same - only, he makes it clear he has been watching, witnessing you, and you, usually so careful and professional, find that you want him to see you. You are desperate for his eyes on you, his eyes watching you in the morning after your coffee; his eyes, studying your lips and your skin in the sun, basking in the post-surgical bliss that comes with risk; his eyes, learning the way you move when you do not know you are being watched, when you do not know that you are wanting him to watch you, or wanting him altogether.

Months ago, you’d have been upset, but now you are relieved, yet still uncertain he has done you justice. You deserve more, you think, than just idle watching. You deserve to be consumed.

‘Then,’ you begin, placing your utensils on the plate and leaning forward, mirroring his posture, ‘maybe you’re not looking hard enough.’

His eyes widen, sparkling as they take you in, his smile brilliant and combating the light - every sliver of it, natural and unnatural, demanding he power the universe. ‘Seductive,’ he announces, gleeful. ‘Like a little imp.’

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you take a slow, shaking in hale at the way he lingers on the word seductive, clinging to the S as though he is reluctant to let it go, to let you go. The world shifts on its axis in the aftermath of his sentence, and you both are aware of it. He waits for your reaction, impatient in the way his joints seem to tense around his fork, unblinking in his desire for your response. Tongue heavy against your teeth, you smile, lowering your gaze and regarding him through the thickness of your lashes, watching the pink swell of a flush creep up his neck. 

Yoongi is not ensnared but he is waiting for you to hold onto the moment, to clutch it with both your greedy fists, coming to him like the snake in Eden, ready for you to bite.

‘If only you knew,’ you offer, coquettish and dark.

Yoongi tips his head back against the seat, pleased and reassured that you are just as unforgiving in your lust and flirtation as you are in competition. A vibration has commenced in your nerves, the humming in your skin a foreboding sense of vulnerability and the expectation that these exchanges will continue - somewhere, somewhen, not in the clinic but elsewhere, created by your own accord, because you both wish them to be so. You can feel it, and you are sure he can too, though it is still young - a warm, threatening heat that whispers its demands for you both, not yet large enough to consume you.

But it will. You want it to. 

Yoongi smiles, and you smile back, letting it take root deep within your soul, its reach far more sweeping than you ever let this kind of expression reach. Yoongi smiles, and the earth moves, and nothing, you know, will ever be the same.

It continues like that for a long while, days and weeks passing with you watching Yoongi and Yoongi watching you, a silent contract that promises you will kiss one another's thoughts before you will kiss lips, these exchanges somehow more intimate and tender than the exchange of skin to skin. The clinic notices the change, the shift from rivalry to competitive understanding to a friendship that borders, tauntingly, on the barriers of romance. Your colleagues watch you both with smiles tucked into the corners of their mouths, knowing everything because you neither hide nor deny anything at all, rejoicing in the sensuality that comes from the force of finally living.

Day in and day out, you trace the bones and the bodies of the animals that come to you, the end to your service at the clinic looming ever closer, a date you deny but do not dread if only because it means you will have him, all of him exactly as you want him. There was no discussion of your eventual transition from friends to lovers, something as inevitable as the movement of the sun over the earth's horizon, but you felt it. In the way he smiled and the way he waited behind you, watchful and awed, you felt it. Somehow, some when, on a night or a day when you both felt comfortable, placated by one another's presence and more alive than you had ever felt simply because he was at your side, you both had decided it would be so.

But not yet.

For a long while, you hold hands through your surgical gloves, fingers touching fingers for the briefest of moments, only to break apart as quickly as you had come together, choosing the airs of professionalism over the airs of romance; evenings spent beneath his parent's peach trees, reading medical books and medical research, pretending your toes do not touch, that the warmth on your skin is from the blanket and not from his skin. In those moments, he is pink - pink as the blossoms and pink as your blush, breathing in unison and waiting, almost too impatiently, for the thrill of being young and being in lust.

The danger of these feelings is that they always feel immortal, immune to the wear and tear of life itself, a blessing that endures. In these sentiments, you are invincible - but the are dangerous because they are more fragile than your own soft tissue, than the supple muscle of your beating heart. They are dangerous because they always end, and when they end, you are always left bereft.

It ends on the hottest day of the summer, mid-day in August with the sun high in the sky and no clouds to cover it. Yoongi had come to work early, the air conditioning of his apartment broken and the sweat on his neck lingering in a tantalizing shimmer. You watch him scribble notes from a medical lecture onto a thick pad of paper from your seat at your newly earned desk in Dr. Hague's office, a small table with a computer and too many charts and notes scattered across it to be remotely organized, too warm to focus.

You are meant to be writing a pathology report for a cat with a broken femur; you are meant to be running labs and inputting charts for Dr. Hague's review. And you will, you tell yourself you will, but only after you memorize the way the contour of Yoongi's cheek seems to catch the light, golden and bronze and almost too ethereal to belong to man.

The phone to Dr. Hague's office rings, making both you and Yoongi jump. He laughs at himself, sheepish, and you laugh with him, though something in this moment makes your stomach drop, your skin slick now with a sense of dread that refuses to leave you. If he feels it too, Yoongi does not let on, reaching for the phone with a confident hand that does not shake as he pulls it to his ear. It's almost inevitable, the way you start to grieve, though you are unsure why the sadness in your chest has begun to spawn like spores. You are grieving, but for what you cannot tell, you can only sense that you are supposed to by the way Yoongi's brows furrow and his lips drop into a frown, cascading downward, almost sauntering lower alongside the trajectory of your heart, before he expresses his acknowledgement and hangs up the phone.

Without a word, he drops his notepad to his deserted chair and moves past you, knowing you will follow hot on his heels, and you do, rising after him with fire in your veins and an ache in your chest, knowing. Somehow, knowing.

In the clinic waiting room, Talia sits with Casper at her feet, pale and lost. Eyes downcast, she is dark, gaze unfocused as she breathes almost too quietly, so far away from you and this moment she does not lift her head on your approach. You and Yoongi halt your steps by the reception desk, simply watching. Hands fisted at your sides, you feel as though you knew, as though you might have always known that they would be back, that somehow it would be different - another day, another war, another reminder that you are human and humans are not meant to solve the problems of mortality.

It's Dr. Hague who breaks the silence, moving past you and Yoongi with somber footsteps as he calls her name. Talia raises her head, eyes no longer simply dark but wet, attempting a hopeful smile as she rises to her feet.

Before she speaks, you know what she will say, certain you do not want to hear it and, conversely, certain that you must. It will be the fire, you think, the fire that will insight another battle out of you, another way to win the day and, perhaps, even the war.

'The vet,' she manages, voice broken and uneven and so terribly small. 'They said his cancer came back. It's in a different part of his leg...worse now, I guess.'

Her words leave you bitter, as though you have been pressed and completely released of your youthful, jovial glow. In the aftermath, you are hardened and battle-born, angry and lost, the tears threatening to burn at your eyes because you saved him. You saved him once and you will do it again, the sheer force of this sentiment vibrating down through your joints, your fingers, deep into the atoms of your blood. You saved him and you will do so again.

The very nature of your will is unflinching, uncompromising as you take a deep inhale, readying yourself. Turning to your side, you expect to see Yoongi, the blood beneath his skin ablaze with the same relentless passion for victory, but he is not there. At your side, there is nothing, just the long tails of his lab coat as he departs from the room altogether.

Bereft, he departs from the clinic with ferocious speed, your own tongue running dry as you struggle to fathom words and reason for his sudden absence. Talia looks to the door, your eyes meeting at this central point, bewildered yet somehow unified in understanding. If she could leave her skin, departing from this moment with a completeness that leaves no discernible trace, you imagine she would. And so it is unfair, you think, for Yoongi to have the liberty of escape.

Gingerly, you follow him, reminded of the day when he followed you, orbiting around you in the evening sun as he watched and waited. The difference, you suppose, is not the circumstance as much as it is the timing. He gave you space, distance, minutes with just yourself to collect and gather your thoughts; and so you are too soon, almost cruel in your interruption. It washes over you, the understanding that to feel something, anything, is a pain that defies the simplicity of language but to be witnessed in the state of that emotion is an act of unmaking, an unforgiving vulnerability.

But right now, you need him just the same as he likely needs you; consumed, at once, with the need to remind him that the experience of defeat only matters in the actions you take in the aftermath.

Crouched against the back of the clinic, Yoongi holds his head in his hands and trembles, small and shy, defenseless as though he naked and raw. You approach him cautiously, footsteps careful as you train your eyes on the curve of his back, catlike and poised to withdraw at a moment’s notice. He looks as distraught and desperate as you feel, gripped by the fear and the remorse - the magnitude and the full breadth of it - as he takes long inhales, demanding that the air itself grows claws within him. 

Stepping forward, a twig snaps beneath the soles of your shoes and he bristles, aware that he is no longer alone. Your gaze departs from him, searching other points of interest, sheepish as you bite the inside of your cheek. The silence is deafening, the breeze refusing to rustle the leaves and the birds refusing to sing. Time moves slowly in this space, inching ever forward and yet you seem detached from it, waiting and waiting and waiting.

‘I know it’s wrong,’ he announces suddenly, alarmingly clear toned for a man so broken. ‘It makes me a bad doctor.’

Softening, you are drawn to his side, leaning back against the clinic as you keep your eyes forward, not wanting to upset him further should your presence be a discomfort. ‘What does?’

‘Attachment,’ he spits, resentful that the very concept could exist. ‘In oncology we learn it in year one. You don’t get attached. You’re not God. You can’t save every animal. This kind of thinking will do you in.’ 

‘Then,’ you try, keeping your voice low and soothing, ‘why this dog? Because it was special?’

Yoongi shakes his head. You can hear the rustle of his hair as he moves, the sound making your chest constrict in affection.

‘It’s not just this dog,’ he retorts sharply.

‘No?’

‘It’s every dog.’ Behind the bitterness and distress, you hear the truth - the anguish of heart that knows too much benevolence, too much affection; the pressure of a heart too willing to love. ‘Every dog and every cat and every rabbit. Each time, I love them.’

‘You have to love them, Yoongi.’ Lowering your gaze to his crouched form, you keep your words calm and even though their meaning is tenacious in its ardent determination. ‘You have to love them enough to take the risk, and you have to love them enough to do what’s morally right - even if that means letting them go.’ 

‘I know it’s stupid.’ He continues, as though he did not hear you at all, as though you had not spoken. ‘Day one, they say it will make you a terrible doctor. Thinking like this will break you before your career even starts.’ Rising to a stand, he wipes his palms over absent creases in his trousers before he, too, leans against the clinic, arms folded and chin tucked against his chest. ‘Want to know the truth?’

‘Tell me.’

‘I think human doctors have it easier,’ he explains. ‘You’re not going to love every patient. Some are assholes, and some aren’t very good people. Hell, depending on the case you might not want them to live - they might be a goddamn criminal.’

‘It’s easy not to get attached to people,’ you agree with a nod. 

‘Fuck, I don’t even like people very much.’ At this he turns to you, worried and wide eyed, uncertainty tainting his features. He looks to you as though you can help him understand, pleading and so endearingly lost. ‘I don’t do this,’ he whispers. ‘Letting people in…,’ his voice fades as he turns away again, walling off one fear for the next. ‘You don’t get that choice with animals,’ he continues, clear toned and persistent. ‘No animal exists or acts out of bad intentions.’

Looking out over the horizon, you watch the early afternoon sun cast its golden rays over the grass, dappling the field. Something in this experience for him is two-fold, the fear of risk wrapping itself around separate, yet not altogether innocuous, events and ensuring they can no longer be parted. A smile pulls at your cheeks, bemused that you had been learning to trust and breathe through the same fear as he, learning to surrender to someone other than yourself. 

And so you offer the same lessons to him, if only because you find the easiest way to fight your battles is by looking in the mirror. 

‘I don’t think this is stupid.’

‘No?’ he breathes, turning to face you once again. ‘Because I’ve not even started yet, and I can already feel it ending.’

You’re unsure if he is referring to his feelings for you or his career, though you are confident it does not matter. All risk is risk, regardless of the direction. 

‘It’s not stupid,’ you repeat, shaking your head. ‘It’s human. I don’t think any vet truly understands why someone becomes a people doctor. People suck.’

You finish with a shrug of your shoulders, a non-committal sign of agreement you hope informs him that people do suck, but he is the exclusion. Always the exclusion.

At this, Yoongi laughs, casting his gaze downward to his feet as his tell-tale blush wanders across his neck and into his ears. Encouraged, you continue.

‘Even the worst animal has a reason for being, well, the worst,’ you explain. ‘Lots of times, it’s people who made them that way. People and their bad habits and their neglect and their inability to understand or care.’

Sidelong, he looks at you through the curtain of his eyelashes, lips pulling into a small grin that gives your heart wings. ‘I see this furthers your point that people suck.’

‘It does,’ you giggle, unable to help yourself and the way you softly swoon at the sight of him, boyish and young and learning to try. ‘But that’s not my main point.’

‘Then what’s your point.’ 

‘My point is…’ Your words fade, carefully choosing your words, aware that this is the pinnacle, the moment between now and tomorrow, the moment of change that ensures everything is different. And you, just as guarded and so full to the brim, ready to learn to love, tell yourself you are prepared. This is for you as much as it is for Casper as it is for him. ‘We learn this too, but in Ortho we call it something different. For us, it’s failure to rescue. For us, it’s not about who failed less or who failed more. It’s merely who rescued more, that’s the separation. In surgery, things will go wrong - you cannot take a risk without the probability of failure, otherwise it isn’t a risk. You have to be ready for it, the failure, because it is naturally inevitable. The difference between triumph and defeat, rescue and failure to rescue, is what you do after it.’

Yoongi regards you intently, eyes glimmering not unlike the sun at dawn, watching you with enough attentive vigilance you feel valuable, important, the single most important thing in his small universe at this moment. It’s an odd feeling, the knowledge and acceptance that you matter, that you matter and that you are wanted. The world spins, and you feel it, the lightheaded dizziness that comes from the motion of things rather than the lack making you root your feet to the earth, emboldened.

‘Obviously, you continue, chest full and impassioned, ‘you became a vet to save animals, we all did, but this is the moment you take to heart and try to rescue again. And when you get like this...you have to talk about it with somebody.’

‘Ugh,’ he groans with a soft chuckle. ‘People.’

‘With me,’ you offer, leaning to nudge his shoulder with yours, watching as he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth. The very sight warms your blood, heat wandering down your spine and into your core.‘I wouldn’t say I’m people.’

‘Oh, right,’ he nods, the flirtatious candor in his voice just as raw as his emotions. ‘A person.’

‘I’m serious!’ you laugh, allowing yourself the moment of mock offence and amorous teasing. ‘What do you normally do, go home and drink the night away to forget this?’

‘Well,’ he nods with a grimace, ‘you’re not wrong. Can’t usually forget though. I remember every single one I’ve failed.’

Reaching forward, you take a hold of his right hand, letting your thumb graze over the knuckles. It’s so unlike you, so unlike your careful distance and professional stoicism, but the risk of it is a thrill that sends an electric shock up your arm, breath shuddering in your lungs at the feel of his soft skin. Almost immediately, his grip tightens over yours, holding what he can of you with an unwavering stare, demanding that you feel just as much, that you feel just as vulnerable and exposed. Like this, you let the pad of your thumb explore the ever warming expanse of his hand, learning the smooth texture until you are certain, if demanded, you could remember and explain it in such detail all the world would feel it too.

‘Don’t tell anyone about this, okay?’ he murmurs, breaking the moment with a shallow breath.

Cocking your head to the side, you smile impishly, just as he knew you were, and are, all those weeks ago. ‘What, that your heart is the size of a house?’

‘I meant that I cried,’ he laughs, ‘but yeah, that too.’

Breaking from his hold, you turn to lead him back to the clinic, grinning as you offer him a wink. ‘One of those secrets is safe with me, but I won’t tell you which one.’

‘Wait!’

Yoongi reaches for you once more, pulling with such force that you collide into him with a huff. He’s faster than you, somehow three steps ahead and prepared, holding your face with both hands as he presses his lips to yours, skilled and soft and ensuring his gratitude cascades down and down into your soul. Instinctively, your arms wind around his neck, fingers coming to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss as you step closer, close enough you’re certain there is no air between your chests, certain that it would not dare separate you. He hums against your lips, a deep roll of thunder through your opens that has you opening for him, his tongue dipping in for one brief caress against yours before he departs entirely, separating, once more, as though he had not been there at all.

But you feel him. Oh, do you feel him.

Catching your breath, you lose yourself in the honey of his gaze, waiting for the rhythm of your heart to return to its normal pace. But you do not relinquish your hold, and nor does he let you go, both of you gripping one another as though seeking purchase during a fall.

‘I’ll keep both those secrets,’ you whisper, lips still wet and tingling with the force of him, ‘if you come back in and find a way to help Casper.’

Yoongi smiles, a wide gummy expression that makes you feel, yes, you are indeed falling. ‘Deal.’

[katehuntington]

Title: All I Want - part three Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester (Bobby Singer, Castiel Mary Winchester and many more mentioned) Pairing: Dean x Reader Series summary: Sam and Dean come across an object that could be the solution to Michael. The Pearl of Baozhu grants the beholder’s deepest desire. Once Dean focuses on his wish, the archangel remains caged in his mind however. Instead his former girlfriend Y/N shows up, who was killed in 2010 in Detroit, by no other than Lucifer himself. Summary part three: Still in shock after Y/N’s unexpected return, the Winchesters fill her in on what has happened in the past ten years. Learning about all the ones they have lost, is a little too much for her to take in. Warnings part three: NSFW, 18+ only. Spoilers season 14 episode 13. Angst, fluff. Swearing, alcoholism. Descriptions of flashbacks and memories. Mentions of character death, time in Hell, torture and nightmares. Anxiety, grieving over lost loved one. Confusion that comes with time travel. Word Count: 5377 words Author’s note: Part three of a multi part miniseries, based on the 300th episode “Lebanon”. Beta’d by the lovely @kittenofdoomage​, @winchest09​, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​, and @thinkwritexpress-official​​. Thank you all so much for your feedback!

All I Want Masterlist

     “So, long story short,” Y/N summarizes, “Sam jumped into the pit with Lucifer riding piggyback, Cas pulled him out but forgot his soul. There was a civil war in Heaven. Cas declared himself God and released the Leviathan and when those ugly suckers were defeated, our angel buddy and you--” she nods at Dean, “- got sucked into Purgatory, which is a place that actually exists, apparently.”

     They are in the kitchen, seated at the four-person table. The hunters raided the liquor cabinet, all in need of a drink after the rather unexpected and staggering turn of events.      Y/N takes a shot of whiskey and puts the tumbler down on the varnished wood with a bang, shoving it across and motioning the older Winchester for a refill.

     “Meanwhile, Sam hit a dog and you escaped Purgatory, but Cas didn’t. Then there was this whole deal with the tablets and the trials, which almost killed your brother. You let an angel - who actually turned out to be a different angel - possess Sam in order to save him. There’s a second civil war upstairs…” She knocks back her head, downing the glass in one go. “I mean, what is it with those halo idiots? Haven’t they learned anything from watching humanity slaughter each other for centuries?”      “Y/N, I know this is a lot, but you need to slow down a bit,” Dean advises, but she snatches the bottle from his hand and pours herself another.      “I’m nowhere near done. Where was I?” She looks up at the ceiling of the kitchen for a second while thinking, until it comes to her. “Oh, right! The angels fell, you took on the Mark of Cain, beat that Knight of Hell chick Abaddon, then got yourself killed. Again. But, oh wait, it gets better! You woke up a demon and had a fun summer with Crowley.”      Her voice pitches a little higher, a hint of panic audible now. Dean watches her process the information which is so clearly overwhelming her and eyes Sam, who is fixing her something quick to eat behind the kitchen counter. Their gazes lock on each other, both men wondering in silence if telling her the whole truth was a good idea.

     “Sam cured you, but you still carried the Mark. You killed Death.” She laughs, cynically. “I mean, c’mon! Death! It’s ironic to say the least. Anyway, the Darkness was released, which - I kid you not - is God’s sister. Oh, and God? Turns out that horrible tween girl novel writer Chuck is actually the almighty creator! Ha!”      “Why don’t you eat something? You’re probably hungry,” Sam suggests, putting down a plate in front of her.      But Y/N isn’t interested in the sandwich and instead picks up her crystal glass again, having another royal amount of the brown liquor. Holding the tumbler to her lips while letting the whiskey linger in her mouth, she points her index finger at the younger Winchester now, who sits down opposite of the woman from their past.

     “Your mom is back from the dead, the British Men of Letters turned out to be stuck up dicks. Lucifer was sprung from the cage, became President of the United States, and knocked up an intern. He had a son, his name is Jack. How am I doing so far?” she rants, setting down the empty glass in front of her.      Dean looks at her, a worried frown drawing lines on his forehead. He knows her well enough to sense she needs to blow off steam. Interrupting her might not be his best move, but that doesn’t stop him from growing concerned about her current state of mind.

     “There was a rift between our world and this - this Apocalypse world, you called it? And Mary and Lucifer ended up on the wrong side before it closed. Luci killed Cas, Dean was sad, Cas came back. You guys went on a rescue mission, Sam got killed. Again!” She sighs deeply, burying her face in her crossed arms on the table. “Seriously, the amount of times you two have died is giving me a fucking headache.”      “Yeah, sorry about that,” Sam says, shooting her a sheepish smile before she continues.

     “So Apocalypse!Michael possessed you in order to kill the Devil once and for all.” She looks up again, focusing on Dean. “But he didn’t check out like he promised - shocker, by the way. He wreaked havoc here, then out of the blue let you go. And now you guys live here in this Men of Letters bunker with a Nephilim, an angel and your undead mother.”      “That’s about right,” Dean confirms.      Y/N lets a breath slip from her lips and stares past him absently, the gears in her head still on overdrive.      “I need another drink,” she eventually mutters, not even bothering filling up her tumbler, but taking a swig directly from the bottle.      When she sets it back on the table top and lets her fingers slip from the glass, Sam is quick to get up and take the bottle back to the kitchen, putting it away in one of the cabinets; she has had enough for one day.      “And I died…”

     The younger Winchester turns around and leans over the counter while observing his friend, his knuckles white on the surface. He studies the breadcrumbs that litter the stainless steel surface after he cut her sandwich in two, having difficulty addressing that topic. When Lucifer flung her into that wall with such magnitude that it killed her instantly, Dean lost the woman he loved, but Sam lost his best friend. He didn’t realize how he felt about her demise until after he got his soul back, which somehow made it even worse. Like he didn’t do her justice, didn’t mourn like he should have. He doesn’t have to reply to her words, though, because Dean beats him to it.      “On May 10, 2010,” he states, averting his gaze and focusing on his folded hands in front of him, still wrapped around his own whiskey glass.      The date is forever etched in his memory. Her mirage haunts him on a regular basis, but on the 10th of May she’s all he can think about, like a fog that refuses to lift at daybreak. It’s one of the hardest days to get through, the day that he misses her the most. Dean’s jaw flexes and he tries to swallow down the pressure that’s gradually building in his chest.

     “That’s - that’s in a year and a half,” Y/N stammers, after quick calculation. “At least in whatever time I’m from.”      “Yeah, just before the big title fight between the Archangels,” Sam confirms.      Y/N glances up at him, then back at Dean, who still can’t force himself to look at her.      “Who killed me?”      “Lucifer,” Dean recalls, venom in his voice.      Her brow lifts up at the reveal. She was killed by the Devil himself? Well, at least that would make a cool inscription on her tombstone.      “You guys salted and burned me, right?” she double checks, even though she cannot imagine the Winchesters giving her anything but a hunter’s farewell.      Dean pulls at his lip with his teeth, the memory of the burning pyre flashing before his eyes. He remembers it as if it was yesterday. The funeral that made sure her death would be irreversible, permanent. The sight of her body set alight. In order to stop the Apocalypse from happening, he lost his brother and his girl. Sam was suffering endless and horrific torture in the pits of Hell while she was going up in flames before his eyes. God, he was a mess. His brother came home, but looking back now, deep down Dean knows he never really recovered from losing the woman who will forever have his heart.      “I did,” he confirms.      I did, he said. All of a sudden, Y/N realizes Sam was gone too at this point; Dean didn’t even have his brother to lean on. Pitiful she watches the hunter, who has endured so much already. He lost the two most important people in his life in a day’s time.      “Then… how am I back?” she wonders. “You said something about summoning me?”      “We found a magical artifact called the Pearl of Baozhu. It grants your biggest wish, basically,” Sam begins to explain. “Apparently, it’s so powerful it doesn’t need remains to resurrect someone.”      “And I am your biggest wish?” She chuckles. “What? Not winning the lottery? Peace on Earth?”      A small smirk pulls at the corner of Dean’s mouth; oh, he missed her wit.      “No, it’s you,” he states after a moment of quiet, finally meeting her gaze.

     Astonishment silences her as she stares at him, the pain of having to go through life without her still evident in his eyes. He looks so much wearier than she remembers the tough hunter, the soldier who always marched on and kept grinding. Even after he came back from Hell, the experience that tore open wounds which bled even worse than those inflicted the night the hellhounds took him. Honestly, there were plenty of times she thought he would never recover, whenever he woke up screaming from another nightmare and she had to hold him until he calmed. And yet, he didn’t seem as burdened as he does now, and that is saying something. It’s as if time broke him down bit by bit as he grew older, until there was nothing left but a ruin. 

     Dean said it’s 2019, which means he’s forty years old now. His frown lines lay deeper, so do the crow’s feet by the corner of his eyes. There’s a scar on his chin that wasn’t there before, covered by his stubble. His hair is a little longer, but only by a quarter of an inch. Age has not done a number on him, because he’s still handsome, but trauma and loss surely have. Knowing that her own death had a substantial part in the neverending sorrow and guilt she knows the hunter carries breaks her heart, because if anything, she would never want to cause him such agony.

     “We were together,” she says, ending the silence. 

     It’s more a realization than it is a question, but Dean nods either way. Her jaw lowers slightly, her mouth opening, but she has no idea what to say. She was frightened when she heard she was on a collision course with death. But now she’s made aware that her future self and Dean are going to face evil as one hell of a power couple, that fear diminishes. She was a teenager when she first started developing feelings for the oldest Winchester brother. She never acted on it, the hunter’s life always getting in the way of their romance. But somehow, despite destiny, despite the horror show that is their reality, they found their way to each other. 

     Seeing just how much her departure wrecked him, she reaches out, moving her hand across the table to take his. She squeezes softly, running her thumb over his skin, rough from the many fights he’s faced. He visibly relaxes, cherishing the moment he never thought he’d have again.      Y/N forces herself to avert her eyes, aware they aren’t alone. She glances at Sam, who watches the two, smiling, but his content expression dissolves when she inadvertently turns the conversation in a harrowing direction.      “What about the others? How’s Bobby?” she wonders, oblivious to the painful reply that is to come.

     Dean’s face falls, closing his eyes in apprehension. Shit, he wishes he didn’t have to break the bad news to her. Bobby Singer was like a father to all of them, but Y/N spent the majority of her childhood under his wing. After her parents died, he took her in and raised her as his own, made sure she could go to school, that she could be a kid. Hell, he was her father, maybe not genetically, but he was the wise man who taught them that family doesn’t end in blood.

     Sam stares back at her, then swallows thickly, letting his head hang. Analyzing his stance, the smile on her lips dies down, frantically searching for an indication that says it isn’t so. When the tall hunter is unable to return her gaze, she fixates on Dean, tears already glazing over her eyes.      “Y/N...” He takes her hand in his now, trying to sooth her and cushion the blow, but he knows there’s nothing he can do that would take the pain away that is about to hit her like a freight train.      “No...” She shakes her head, unable to accept it. “No no no no...”      “I’m so sorry,” he says softly, his heart breaking as he breaks hers. 

     Her bottom lip begins to tremble, her face contorting as she fights the emotions that quickly overpower her. Shimmering pathways of anguish find their way down her cheeks, eventually falling to land on the wooden surface. Y/N wipes her cheeks dry, but it’s no use, new tears forming faster than she can erase. And so she brings her free hand up to cover her mouth, holding back a sob.      “W-when?” she stammers, her voice shaking. “How?”      “In 2012. He... he was shot,” Dean explains, trying to get the words across as gingerly as possible.

     She shuts her eyes now, her throat closing up and she bites her bottom lip, trying her hardest not to break down in front of the boys. She has so many questions of which the answers terrify her.      “Did he die alone?”      She barely dares to look up again, meeting Sam’s gaze this time. He shakes his head, offering her a comforting smile.      “No, we were right there with him,” he assures.      “He’s in Heaven,” Dean consoles, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand. “Cas double checked.”

     Y/N nods slightly, sniffling as she digests the news. Knowing that he’s in a good place right now doesn’t stop the grief from tearing her apart, because she has no idea how to go through life without her mentor to council her, but at least he’s not suffering anymore. A shuddering breath escapes from her lungs as she collects herself.      “What killed him, is it--”      “- dead. Yeah, we made sure of that,” Dean guarantees.      “Good,” she says, her voice having gained some strength. “What about Rufus? Ellen & Jo?”      Sam sighs and looks down, painfully confronted with how many people they’ve lost over the years.      “They’re all gone,” he states, still leaning heavily on the countertop.      Shocked, Y/N stares at him, unable to believe how many have perished.      “So, of the original crew, you two are really the last ones standing, huh?”      “Yeah, I guess we are,” the younger brother confirms. “But we met some great people along the way, I’m sure they’ll be excited to meet you. We’re not fighting the good fight alone, by any means.”      “Glad to hear that. Just, not today? I’m not sure how much more I can take,” she almost pleads, her voice raspy from crying.

     Dean watches her closely, guilt constricting in his gut. Unknowingly, he has pulled her from a time where things weren’t all that bad. If she’s from October 2008, he has just returned from Hell. Bobby was alive, Sam was okay, so were the other people she considered family. They were growing closer, on the verge of giving in to the attraction they felt for each other. But now it’s just the three of them and a ten year gap between her lifetime and theirs. She must be feeling completely out of place, disorientated, exhausted.      “Why don’t we go pick out a room for you, so you can lay down for a bit?” Dean offers, squeezing her hand gently to get her attention.      She agrees and gets up from her seat without another word, mentally too tired to argue. The alcohol is coursing through her system, and although she doesn’t feel highly intoxicated, combined with the range of emotions she just went through, it’s doing a number on her. Honestly, she’s down for a nap, preferably one that lasts a day or two.      Dean lets her go up the two steps first, ready to catch her might her coordination fail her after all. He glances over his shoulder at his brother, who picks up the untouched sandwich and carries the plate to the sink.      “Go ahead, I’ll clean up,” Sam offers.      Thankful, the older Winchester forces a small smile before he leaves the kitchen. 

     Quietly, Y/N follows the broad shouldered hunter who leads the way, her arms crossed in front of her chest, the coolness from the stone walls chasing chills up and down her spine. It’s not just the cold, though, it’s everything. Too much information to process, too much heartbreak to endure. Her brain is overloaded, fatigue hitting her like a ton of bricks.      She watches Dean turn the corner and stroll into a long hallway with doors on either side, gold plated numbers below the Men Of Letters emblem. They stop in front of room 12.      “You can take this one,” he suggests, opening the door for her and flicking on the lights. “I’m right next door if you need anything. Sam’s in room 21.”

     Y/N steps inside, taking in her new accommodation. Despite the use of mostly brick and concrete and the lack of windows, the glow coming from the ceiling light and the lamp on the nightstand feels warm and welcoming. A large mahogany bed is situated against the far end, a matching desk on the left with an old typewriter and a radio sitting on top. Directly behind the door there’s a sink and a medicine cabinet with a mirror on the lid, and a wardrobe next to it.      “We can put a rug on the floor, if you want. I remember how you always had cold feet,” Dean suggests.      She turns in the middle of the room, a small smile on her lips; he’s not wrong.      “I’d like that,” she says, grateful.

     A little uneasy she lets her gaze linger over the still empty cabinets and bookshelves again, feeling foreign in this future that didn’t include her, before Dean wished she was. She realizes there’s nothing to fill them with, no clothes, no books, no picture frames.      “Could I maybe borrow a shirt and some sweats from you? I’m gonna have to buy some new clothes later today,” she asks, a little flustered.      “Sure, but actually, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck, the way he always does when he’s nervous. “I never threw away your stuff. It’s been in boxes in the storage room, so your clothes are probably gonna need to be washed--”      “- Wait, you… you saved my stuff?”

     She stares at him in awe. It’s been almost ten years since she died, and he still held on to all that she owned. Sure, it wasn’t much, since they were on the road most of the time, but still. They didn’t find this bunker until a couple of years later, which means Dean had stored it in a locker somewhere, or maybe at Bobby’s, and picked it up again when they found a permanent home. He had moved her things around for almost a decade, yet never threw them out, even though he knew there was no purpose left for the items that once belonged to her. Just painful reminders of what was and what was lost.      “Yeah, I - I couldn’t really bring myself to throw it out,” he claims, as if he was dodging a task that should have been done long ago.      He isn’t lying. Even though he knew she was never going to return to him, that her life was lost and his love was hopeless, he kept everything she held dear. Her books, her mixtapes, her photos, her jewelry. The clothes she wore, the guitar she played. The stack of coasters she collected, picking one up at every bar they ever had a drink at, from every town they ever crossed. The old school Polaroid camera she brought everywhere, snapping pictures of everything that caught her eye along the way. Sunsets, funny road signs, captivating landscapes, interesting people. There are a few of him, of the Winchesters together, some more portraying the three of them, all squeezed into the shot. She even caught Bobby on camera, ignoring his grumpy mutters when she had fulfilled her seemingly impossible mission.      There’s the music box she got from her mother when she was little, her parents’ wedding album. Lore books, weapons and crystals that Bobby gave her when she first started hunting. The enchanted good luck charm Dean gave her for her birthday. He held on to it all, because he couldn’t bear the thought of having to let her go completely.

     Sympathetically, Y/N observes him. His tough exterior only lets a hint of embarrassment over something so sentimental seep through. But she knows him, she has seen the knight without his armor. She knows how badly he’s hurting.      “Anyway, I’ll - uh, get you some clean clothes and dig up your stuff from storage.” He points his thumb over his shoulder a little awkwardly, excusing himself.      She nods. “Thanks.”

     With a faint smile on his lips he disappears, leaving the door ajar. Y/N breathes in deeply and allows the air to flow out, trying to calm herself down. It’s her first moment alone since she found herself in the year of 2019 and she cannot begin to comprehend what is happening to her. How she time-jumped a decade into the future, having history with Dean she cannot even recall. It feels like she’s in a bad daytime television show, where one of the characters has hit her head too hard and suffers from amnesia, not remembering her lover.      Rubbing her forehead she turns around, trying to massage away the headache. Her eyes glide through her new bedroom again. This is going to be her home now. After moving out of Bobby’s place, she never really had that kind of stability. The closest she came to a roof over her head was her minivan, her little house on wheels. 

     Fingertips grace the covers of her bed, the material soft under her touch, when she hears Dean’s boots echo in the hall. She turns around as he comes through the doorway, holding two boxes with a bundle of clothes laying on top of the stack in his arms. He lowers the neatly taped carton containers to the ground, her name written on them with black marker. Dean made sure to file on the label what’s inside them.      “There’s one more box, your clothes are in that one. I can put them in the washer now, so you’ll have something better to wear than my oversized stuff,” he offers.      “You don’t have to do that, Dean,” she objects, but he shrugs it off.      “It’s no problem.”      His voice is kind, but he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer. It’s the first time he has moved her belongings without having to fight the tears, without having to pause in order to stop himself from breaking down. He wants to make sure she has something clean and fresh to wear when she wakes up later, finally being able to take care of her again. 

     Dean turns the corner and heads to the storage room, his heart finally calming with the simplicity of being able to do something as domestic as washing her clothes. After picking up the last big box, he exits the storage and pulls the door shut behind him, making his way to the dorm where the washers and dryers are situated. He sets the box down in front of one of the machines, pulls his pocket knife from his belt and cuts through the duct tape. The first item he pulls out, however, steals his breath; it’s the leather jacket she wore that night in Detroit.      Two days after they lost her, Dean wrapped her in linen before he laid her down on the pyre he and Bobby built, her lifeless body still in the jeans and band shirt she had on when she was killed. He took off her favorite black leather jacket, though, wanting to preserve it, even though it was a part of Y/N - or maybe because it was. Traces of faded crimson still stain the collar. Dean shakes his head, trying to ban the image from his mind. The image of the blood running from her nose and mouth as she hung from his arms, dead weight, the spark of life in her eyes long gone.

     After a deep breath, the hunter collects himself and lays the leather jacket aside, then begins to carefully pick out some of her clothes. He makes a selection that fits in the drum, adds a laundry pod and turns the machine on. He hopes the old thing does a better job at washing away the memory of her death than he’s doing.

     When he enters Y/N’s room again, she has changed into the black shirt and grey sweatpants he offered her. She spins when she hears him, an amused grin adorning her face.      “Nice socks,” she chuckles, showing off her novelty footwear with burgers and milkshakes on them.      “Shut up. Sammy gave them to me for Christmas,” he utters, a blush on his cheeks. “Your stuff’s in the washer.”      “Thank you,” she returns, grateful.

     A silence followers as Dean lingers in the doorway. This would be the moment to give her some space and retreat to his room, but somehow he can’t make himself step outside. He has spent too much time without her by his side already, he doesn’t want to waste a second not being with the woman he’s still unmistakingly in love with. She’s his girl, afterall. But that’s where it gets confusing, because he’s not sure how she feels about all this. Y/N was zapped from a time where they weren’t in a relationship yet, so where do they stand in this messed up mayhem?      “Y/N, about that kiss earlier…” he starts off hesitant. “I, uh - I didn’t know you were from a place where we weren’t… y’know, together.”

     The smile on her lips dies down as she watches the hunter, skilled in the field when fighting evil, but now stumbling over his own words. It’s only now that she realizes how surreal this must be for him. His mind probably has archives full of memories she has no clue of, simply because in her time, they didn’t happen yet.      “What I’m trying to say is…” Dean takes a breath, trying to get his message across. “If I came on too strong, or made you feel uncomfortable in any way, I’m sorry.”      He glances up now, watching how she slowly approaches. Gently, she takes his hand in hers, their fingers entwining. After studying their hold for a few seconds, she tilts her head and restores eye contact. The look she gives him is so warm and kind, it mends the broken man that he is.      “I’m not,” she responds, her voice soft.

     She leans in, tiptoeing, and presses her soft lips against his. For a good moment all his grief, the endless regret, the physical pain that became chronic, is forgotten. He closes his eyes and melts into the touch, returning the kiss without hesitation. The voices in his head are silenced, his anxiety calmed. After eight years, eight months and twenty eight days, he has found his missing piece. If her departure from his world didn’t make him realize how much he loves her, this moment surely does.

��    The kiss lasts a few heavenly long seconds, but then Dean parts from her, resting his forehead against hers. He sighs deeply, the air leaving him with a shudder. Still high on the ecstasy that the undeniable connection induced, she opens her eyes, but his remain closed. Wondering why, Y/N squeezes his hand. When he does look back at her, the tears bring out his green irises, like holding an emerald gem against the light. Compassionate, she cups his face, tracing the lines of his jaw.      “You really missed me, didn’t you?” she perceives.      He huffs; she’s putting it mildly.      “You have no idea,” he breathes.

     Y/N does, though. Last thing she remembers is how Dean just returned from Hell. In the four months that he was gone, she was completely at a loss. Wildflowers blossomed on his grave from her tears alone. Knowing he was enduring unimaginable torment only made it worse. But when he returned and she was able to close him in her arms again, it magnified everything she had ever felt for the man who went to Hell and back. The rollercoaster he’s riding now is one she’s been on herself, but she doesn’t tell him that; it’s not about her right now.

     She kisses him again, shorter and more sweetly now, smiling at him afterwards until he returns her expression. His eyes are still shimmering, but it’s not sorrow she finds in the depth of his pupils, not anymore. It’s gratefulness, appreciation, love, for her, the girl he lost so many years ago.      “You should get some sleep. You had one hell of a morning,” he says after a quiet moment, unable to look away.      She scoffs. “Understatement of the week.”      He nods grinning, admitting she’s probably right.      “I’ll leave you to it.”      Dean is about to let go of her hand, when her grip on him grows a little stronger, causing him to glance up at her, questioning.      “Could you…” she pauses, not sure if she’s asking too much. “Could you lay with me, just for a while?”      He reads her carefully, pained to see the hint of fear; she doesn’t want to be alone.      “Sure,” he agrees, the single word soothing her.

     Y/N allows his hand to slip from hers now and circles the bed, folding back the covers as Dean sits down to take off his shoes. When he leans back into the pillow, his upper body still slightly elevated against the headboard, tiredness overwhelms him. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in forever, Michael always waiting in the shadows when he dares to close his eyes. But when Y/N crawls into his chest, filling the vacant place that has been cold for so long, he sighs content, letting the worry fall from his shoulders. Who knows, maybe with her by his side, he might actually be able to rest.

     She pulls the sheets to cover the both of them, feeling Dean’s sheltering arm wrap around her and pull her in. The kiss he presses to her hair has her bite back the tears yet again. She tries to hide it, not wanting to come across as weak or emotional. The man who has always cared for her, doesn’t fail to notice, though.      “Hey…” he says, softly. “You had a lot on your plate today, huh?”      She sniffles and nods, not brave enough to test her voice.      “It’s gonna be okay, we’ll figure this out,” he promises. “You got me, Y/N.”      “Yeah…” she whispers. “I got you.”

     Dean holds her close, giving her the security and the comfort she is desperately seeking, hoping she might forget about the world she’s in now and the one she was ripped from. Absently, he rubs his fingers up and down her arm, the slow, soothing rhythm lulling her to sleep. Within minutes she’s out, the warmth she radiates slowly melting away the tension in the hunter’s stiff muscles, tired and worn from endless battles with both monsters and himself. Exhausted, he lets his cheek rest against the top of her head, allowing his own eyes to flutter shut as well. The last thing that crosses his mind before he falls asleep is a promise. Past, present, or future, Dean will always be there for the woman who makes him believe in their little slice of apple pie life. A decade of time difference will not change his word of honor.

It took me long enough, didn’t it! Stay tuned for part four, I hope I have gained some momentum now and will able to finish this series sooner than later.

Anyway, thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

All I Want tags: @alexwinchester23​ @avengersgirllorianna​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @cpag7​ @deans-baby-momma​ @greenarrowhead​ @justkending​ @polina-93​  @the-is13​

Follow Forever tags: @1000roughdrafts​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @afangirlsbubble​ @akshi8278​ @angelsandwinchesters​ @atc74​ @bandobsession98​ @becs-bunker​ @caligraphee​ @canadianspnhunter​ @chumi-la-chula​ @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @deanwanddamons​ @cookie-dough-lova​ @dawnie1988​ @dolanfivsosxox​ @demonsofhunting​ @dillpicklesunflowerseed​ @emoryhemsworth​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @fangirl-and-medstudent-help​ @flamencodiva​ @foreverwayward​ @heartsaved​ @hennessy0274-blog​ @hobby27​ @hyperella​ @idksupernatural​ @idreamofhazel​ @indecisive20something​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​ @ivonstiel​ @just-another-busy-fangirl​ @kathaswings​ @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​ @maddiepants​ @mariekoukie6661​ @mogaruke​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @myheartbeatsjustforyou​ @notnaturalanahi​ @pisces-cutie​ @rainqueen​ @risingphoenix761​ @sammyssupersmile​ @sheepdogs33456​ @soupornatural​ @spnbaby-67​ @spnimag​ @sunskittlex​ @supernatural-girl97​ @super-not-naturall​ @team-free-will-you-idjiot​ @theyaremyveryownthoughts​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @tmiships4life​ @tranquility-or-chaos​ @trashforwinchesters​ @ultimatecin73​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @uzum4k1-uch1h4​ @vxxn128 @winchesterxtwo​

[monomonomagines]

Can I get a thing with kirumi,souda,fuyuhiko,sakura and Celeste who's s/o is very afraid of horror movies but tries to play it off like they aren't but they are noticeably jumpy afterwards seeing one?

Sure thing Anon! I hope you don’t mind me going into a bit more detail about when they’d comfort S/o as some are more observant but if anything isn’t to your liking feel free to tell me! After all, I’ll gladly fix up whatever I goofed if I did at all!

Kirumi

Kirumi herself wasn't a fan of horror movies though she was perfectly content with watching them so long as you were by her side.

It wasn’t that she was ever fearful of them but she mostly only enjoyed them as it allowed her to spend her time simply allowing you to hold on to her if need be or providing for you any other way you’d need her to.

She wasn’t very pushy with her help, normally allowing you to take your time to admit how fearful you would get, but she normally noticed it far before you would even realize.

That’s why, per usual, she held a rather stoic face as you two came to the end of the movie playing this time.

You had seemed jumpy as she quickly caught onto but she still had kept her mouth shut, remaining patient as she asked you a simple, “Are you alright, S/o?”

You wanted to tell her you were, you didn’t want her to know of your fears or how badly the movie affected you so you simply shook your head, boldly brushing off her concerns at first.

However, as you continued to act noticeably jumpy, even towards her if you didn’t see her for a moment or if she placed her hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you, she couldn’t help but become overwhelmed with her own desire to help.

She normally wouldn’t act so rash but as she didn’t know what else to do had quickly pulled you into an embrace, uttering out how it’s ok and that you’re safe.

She would protect you so there is no need to worry yourself, she’d assure you, refusing to let go of you until you seemed to show signs of improving.

“S/o I do hope you know that if there’s anything you need, I’d be happy to aid you in any way I can so please, rely on me. I’ll permit no harm to come your way.”

Kazuichi

Kazuichi isn’t the most attentive guy when it comes to his surroundings, especially during a horror movie.

All he can focus on is trying to keep up his own “cool guy” act as he doesn’t want to look like a fool around you.

He cared more than anything about what you thought of him and would be devastated if you thought anything ill of him or even worse, that he was lame and a coward.

All throughout the movie, he ended up clinging onto you just as much as you would on him, both of you trying to brush off your jumpiness with a laugh and excuse with neither of you noticing that the other felt the same.

Kazuichi was skeptical if you realized or not as he wasn’t the best actor but as he seemed to make it through the end of the movie with you, he felt a bit of confidence finally growing in his chest.

He made it, with his image intact! This was great! If not for him trying to hide his own jumpiness he would’ve cheered.

Perhaps, that action though is what exposed the two of you. Overcome with excitement he grabbed onto you, intending to pull you into a hug and instead causing you to visibly jump and yell, causing him to follow suit before he could even comprehend what the two of you were so scared for.

“Wh-what’s wrong!? What’s going on!?” He cried out, looking frantically about the two of you as you awkwardly let out a small laugh.

You tried to assure him it was nothing but even Kazuichi wasn’t that stupid. He could tell just from looking at you now that you were as jumpy as him right now and he didn’t want things to stay this way at all.

“Y’know S/o, it’s ok if you’re scared,” he says, taking your hand into his own, “i-if anything, I’m a bit jumpy myself right now so you’re not alone. If you want we could even go lay in bed, I mean, it always feels a lot safer under the covers and stuff right?”

Fuyuhiko

While Fuyuhiko was more attentive than Kazuichi was, he was certainly no Kirumi.

He’d sit out the entire movie with you, not thinking much about the first few times you would react to any of the scares.

However, as the movie crept closer and closer to its eventual end, he quickly took note of how you grew increasingly jumpy.

“You know, if you’re so scared of it, you don’t have to watch it!” He yells out, not realizing how loud he was due to his frustration until he saw your body jump once again.

He knew he wasn’t the most gentle when he got frustrated, he was the Ultimate Yakuza after all and he had his own struggles with his anger but at that moment he knew he scared you.

He didn’t intend to but he made you jump and he felt awful.

Without a second thought, he brushed aside your excuses as he looked at you with a rare concerned expression.

“I’m not buying any of that bullshit,” he says, trying to keep his voice softer this time, “I can tell you’re scared so I’m not leaving this on. Give me the remote!”

Ignoring the excuses pouring from your mouth once again, he quickly grabs the remote from your hands, flicking off the TV and dropping the remote to his side dramatically.

He didn’t care if he seemed stubborn or childish to you right now, what he wanted was to make you feel better and you’d best believe that he’d do whatever he can to accomplish this!

Losing any sense of pride, he pulled you into a hug, brushing your hair back as he reassures you that he’s right there and that even some stupid monster wouldn’t be a match for him.

“Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, The Ultimate Yakuza! As if some guy with eyes all over his body could take me, that’s just more points I can hit him anyways!”

Sakura

Sakura, similar to Kirumi and Fuyuhiko, wasn't easy to stir up.  

She was steeled enough to act calm and rational in most situations, rarely seeming affected even by any real-life horrors she might encounter.

However, she also was attentive enough to notice that this wasn’t exactly the case for you.

She didn’t mention it as she didn’t want to damage your pride at all, but she could certainly tell that you would be more of a mess without her here so she simply laid her larger hand next to yours for you to grab if you so pleased.

She wanted to do more of course, but with the way things were she was a bit apprehensive, worried that she might make you jump even worse than the movie playing before the two of you.

That’s why she didn’t even utter a word, even as you took her offering, grabbing onto her hand and squeezing her for dear life as you jumped again and again at the scares.

It wasn’t actually until the end of the movie that she finally spoke up, nearly causing you to jump in itself due to how shaken up you were.

“S/o, you’re far too shaken up! Let’s put something else on to calm your nerves.” She says, releasing your hand as she gets up and looks to you, giving a small gentle smile.

“I’ll put on some soothing videos and get you a drink. It should help you to recover your strength.”

Celeste

Celeste has no issues with horror movies, quite enjoying them herself if they happen to have anything to do with vampires especially.

This didn’t mean that her attention was fully on the movie playing in front of the two of you though.

Celeste was rather observant herself so she could easily see through your brave act, noticing immediately how you tried to brace yourself for each scare, only to look worse off than you had before.

She had noticed but she didn’t want to say anything to address it either. If you wanted to put on a brave act so badly, she wasn’t going out of her way to say anything. After all, that was all on you.

Or so she thought, but Celeste couldn’t help but go soft when she noticed your looks worsening even as you both neared the end of your current film.

She was a fan of the pale look but certainly not to this extent. With how bad you looked she couldn’t help but worry, despite her poker face hiding even those kinder feelings of hers.

She could tell there was no stopping you if she addressed your skittishness now, so rather than say anything she made an excuse herself, giving an exaggerated yawn as she announced, “I’m feeling rather tired, S/o. How about we finish this movie another time and head to bed together?”

She was normally a good actress but when she saw the face you gave her she could already guess that you were going to spill excuse after excuse of how you weren’t scared, even if she knew better.

“S/o, you know that you cannot hide such a thing from me, yes? I can tell you're scared even now, so I wanted to take a break. It should be the greatest honor for someone like me to be worried for you, shouldn’t it?” She asks, smiling matter of factly as she grabs the remote from your hands to turn off the TV.

She wasn’t the best at opening up to you but you could tell she cared. You knew that just as much as you knew not to argue with her, feeling a smile cross your features as she brushed off her own evident worries the way you did.

“You shouldn’t be focusing on a silly movie like that when you’re keeping me waiting, right?”

[occasionally-writing]

I’m Always Here

A/N: I finally sat down and focused on writing XD I am so filled with to the brim with feels from 2Gether, Why R U and then with My Engineer today XD Anyways, this prompt was requested by @bererjs​!! I really hope you like it and I apologize it took a bit to get out! <3

Summary: After a long day of cheer leading practice, Tine gets back to the condo and wants nothing to do but sleep. He gets to do this until Sarawat comes back and treats him to a nice bath and a gives him the self-care time he desperately craves. 

Word Count: 2327

Tine could not believe how exhausted it was. Words cannot describe how tired and achy his body was as he climbed the stairs to his and Sarawat’s condo, just wanting to lay down on the mattress and forget that the world around him existed. Dropping his messenger bag as soon as he made it to the top,  Tine couldn’t bother with hanging it in its proper place as he face planted on the bed, burying his face in Sarawat’s pillow, the leftover scent of his boyfriend’s shampoo comforting him somewhat as he took a deep breath in. Sarawat had to be at his practice for CTRL S, so Tine knew that he wouldn’t be home until later in the evening. Feeling a yawn contract him, Tine nuzzled his face deeper in his boyfriend’s pillow and sighed, pulling the blanket that was strewn messily on the mattress over himself, not minding the fact that both of them had forgotten to make the bed that morning before they left for their classes. 

“Why did I decide to sign up for cheerleading again?” Tine asked himself, his voice quiet in the empty room as he felt himself beginning to doze off. Letting his eyes flutter close, Tine yawned once more before he felt his consciousness leave him. He had no idea how long he was out for, but when the sound of the condo door opening and someone calling his name vaguely appeared in his sleepy state of mind, Tine chose to ignore it until footsteps climbed the stairs and a soft chuckle was heard. Opening his heavy eyelids, Tine moved his face out of the pillow and met Sarawat’s amused gaze, his own eyes half-lidded as his foggy mind tried to comprehend what he was seeing. “Sarawat…? Why aren’t you at practice...I didn’t think you’d be home this soon.”

“Tine, do you realize what time it is? Look out the window,” Sarawat sighed fondly, jutting his chin towards the window that still had its curtains open. Rubbing his eyes, Tine moved his gaze from his boyfriend to the open window that was displaying the beautiful colors of the sunset, decorating the sky in purple, orange and yellow hues. Staring at it for a moment longer, Tine scratched the back of his neck as it finally registered how late in the evening it truly was. He...must’ve fallen asleep. Sheepishly smiling, Tine turned his attention back to Sarawat, who seemed like he was waiting for the moment Tine understood the situation. “Never mind that, are you okay? You look exhausted even though you’ve slept for a couple hours.”

Letting out a hum, Tine turned his eyes towards the blanket he was covering up with, playing with a loose thread as he thought about how he should answer his boyfriend’s question. Should he tell him the truth about how he was aching all over, or should he lie and say that he was fine. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tine didn’t get a chance to think that much longer as Sarawat made his way over to him and sat down in front of him, reaching out so he could lift his boyfriend’s chin with a soft touch. Letting their eyes meet, Tine knew that he couldn’t lie to Sarawat so with a sigh, he leaned forward and fell into Sarawat, burying his face in his shoulder as he shyly wrapped his arms around his waist, just wanting to be close to his boyfriend’s warm body. Blinking as this happened, Sarawat bit back a happy noise before he wrapped his arms around Tine’s shoulder, pulling him closer until they were practically flushed together, their chests pressed together so they could feel every breath the other made. Nuzzling his face into Sarawat’s neck, Tine mumbled about his day and how tiring the cheerleading practice was, telling his boyfriend how much his body ached all over. Letting out a concerned hum, Sarawat rubbed his hand around Tine’s back before he threaded it into his boyfriend’s hair, smiling softly when he felt Tine fully relax, his body growing heavier against his own. 

“Come on. Let me run you a bath...do you want any bath oils added to the water?” Sarawat asked softly, pulling away from the hug so he could help his boyfriend up, keeping his arms around Tine until they were both standing up. Leaning into Sarawat, Tine mumbled something about lavender and vanilla oils that had Sarawat snort. Of course it had to be something with vanilla, it was Tine’s favorite scent after all. Nodding softly, Sarawat kept his arms around Tine’s shoulders as he led him towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind him as he sat his boyfriend on the toilet, rubbing his fingers through his hair as he backed up, getting ready to set up the bath. Watching Sarawat prepare the water for him, Tine leaned back against the toilet and yawned, not realizing his eyes fluttered shut until a hand cupped his cheek softly and a kiss to his forehead made his eyes open again. “Come on, Sleepy Head. The bath is ready.”

“Sarawat...stay with me?” Tine whispered softly, keeping his eyes on his boyfriend as Sarawat paused like he was taking in what Tine had asked him. Letting a smile rise on his face, Sarawat nodded and moved back so Tine could stand, removing his shirt before he turned to look at his boyfriend, who was watching him intently. Letting out a huff, Tine whined something about privacy that made Sarawat snicker before he turned around, giving Tine a bit of decency as he stripped out of his pants and dropped himself in the hot water, letting out a contented sigh as his tired body relaxed freely into the warmth. Hearing the bath water hit the sides of the tub, Sarawat turned back around and settled himself at the wall of the tub, laying his chin on his arms as he stared at Tine. “Thanks for this...it feels nice to soak like this.”

Shaking his head to dismiss the thanks, Sarawat leaned over and pressed a surprise kiss to Tine’s flushed cheeks, grinning when Tine whined at the act of affection and huffed, turning his head away so Sarawat couldn’t see the lovestruck smile that was slowly making his lips turn upwards. Remaining silent as he listened to Sarawat tell him how practice when and how he was sick of P’Dim’s constant nagging and how he could never hold a poster upright while showing it off, Tine leaned back against the tub and just stared silently at Sarawat, taking in the way his boyfriend talked and how much feeling he put into his words as he talked about his afternoon. Not realizing that he was caught staring until Sarawat stopped talking and was now observing him too, Tine licked his lips and noticed the way Sarawat followed the action with his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed.   

“The water’s getting cold...can I get out now?” Tine asked softly, feeling his body beginning to shiver as he realized how cool the water had truly gotten since he was fully into what Sarawat was talking to him about earlier. Blinking as he snapped out of whatever state he was in a few moments ago, Sarawat shook the thoughts he had away as he nodded, moving to stand up so he could go fetch a towel for his boyfriend. Leaning over, Tine pulled the plug to the bath and watched as the water drained, not noticing Sarawat returning until he cleared his throat and held out a towel for him. Taking it, Tine waited until Sarawat turned around again before he stood up, carefully stepping out of the tub as he tied the cloth around his waist. Reaching out, Tine fisted the back of Sarawat’s shirt and stepped closer, burying his face in his back, accidentally making his shirt wet. Not really caring however, Sarawat allowed Tine to cling to him as he walked them back to the bedroom. “Can we go to bed now...I can work on homework tomorrow since I don’t have morning classes…”

“Sure...but first, get dressed. I don’t want you catching a cold for being in nothing but a towel,” Sarawat ordered, letting his eyes drift up and down his boyfriend’s form, his eyes stuck on his chest which Tine noticed right away. Rolling his eyes, Tine playfully shoved Sarawat onto their bed, turning around so he could dig out something to wear to bed from their shared dresser. Pulling out a band logo t-shirt that he knew was Sarawat’s, Tine swallowed the lump in his throat as he took a deep breath, grabbing one of his own boxer shorts and moving back towards the bathroom, not letting his boyfriend see what clothes he grabbed. Watching Tine leave, Sarawat arched a brow as the bathroom door shut and he was left alone. Letting out a sigh, Sarawat pushed himself off the bed and stripped out of his school uniform, throwing them in the hamper Tine had placed by their dresser. Pulling a plain back tank top from their dresser, Sarawat slipped it on just in time for the bathroom door to open. “Finally get dressed, Tua Woon Wai?”

Furrowing his brow when he didn’t get a reply back, Sarawat frowned before he turned around, freezing up as he observed his boyfriend standing by the bathroom door, wearing one of his shirts that was a bit too big for him. Taking in the way Tine’s collar bones were on display and how the shirt just covered his boxer clad thighs, almost making it look like he was wearing nothing but the shirt, Sarawat took a deep breath in through his nose, trying to calm his racing thoughts as Tine shifted on his feet, obviously getting nervous since Sarawat was not saying anything. Leveling his boyfriend with a stare again, Sarawat strolled over to him and cupped his cheeks, squeezing them until Tine whined and looped his hands around his wrists, huffing at the smile the whine brought to Sarawat’s lips.

“Who said you could be this adorable, Nuisance?” Sarawat chuckled as he fixed the shirt until Tine’s neck wasn’t as open anymore. Flushing brightly at what his boyfriend said, Tine cleared his throat and flicked Sarawat’s forehead, spinning around him as he headed towards the bed, his attentiveness just beginning to cloud over as the thought of sleep still lingered heavily in his thoughts. Crawling into the bed again, Tine rolled over onto his side of the mattress, getting comfortable until he noticed that he wasn’t being followed. Turning his head so that it wasn’t buried in his pillow, Tine stared at Sarawat, who was watching him with nothing but fondness filling his warm gaze. Feeling his cheeks warm at the sight, Tine grumbled and waved his hand around, gesturing for Sarawat to climb into bed as well. Rolling his eyes, Sarawat pretended to think about it before he launched himself, landing stomach first as he curled into his spot, pulling the blanket up on the both of them. “It’s still kind of early to sleep, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is...but...I don’t really feel like doing much of anything else. Is that, um, is that okay?” Tine asked, uncertainty beginning to cloud his sleepy voice, not really sure if he really had a right to feel this way. Reaching out, Sarawat slowly intertwined their fingers, his thumb rubbing soft circles in his hand as he leveled him with a soft expression, trying to convey what he was feeling through his eyes. Seeing the understanding look being sent his way, Tine swallowed a shy giggle that wanted to break free as he got the urge to want to cuddle closer to Sarawat, to bury his face into his chest and just cuddle the day away. Clenching his fist into the blanket, Tine tried to hold back the wanting to do this but when a tug on his arm caught his attention, he knew that he was caught. “...Sarawat…”

“Don’t be nervous...you can come closer,” Sarawat whispered, as if speaking louder would break the calm and quiet atmosphere they could feel around them in the moment. Taking in a deep breath, Tine held it for a moment before he shook the anxious thoughts away and instead did what Sarawat had asked, scooting himself over until he could wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and bury his face into his chest. Fixing the blanket around them both, Sarawat hugged Tine close and buried his face in his hair, placing a soft kiss on his head that made Tine smile from where his face was squished into Sarawat’s neck. Rubbing his hand up and down Tine’s back, Sarawat soft squeezed the back of his neck before his fingers found their way into his hair again, scratching softly against his scalp in a way that had Tine humming out, letting out a sigh full of content as he relaxed further into Sarawat’s hold. “If you wanted to cuddle, you could always do it. No need to ask, Tine. I’m always here for you.”

Feeling his throat close up in emotion, Tine pressed a soft kiss to Sarawat’s neck before he buried his face back in his chest, letting his ear lay in the perfect spot to hear the soft beating of his boyfriend’s heart. Closing his eyes as he felt Sarawat tangle their legs together as they continued to cuddle, Tine tightened the grip he had on Sarawat’s shirt as he let his eyes flutter close, the feeling of having his hair played with along with the steady thumps of Sarawat’s heart and warmth of his boyfriend’s body lulling him into a gentle slumber, Sarawat close behind him as he too fell asleep, holding onto Tine just as tightly as he did while he was conscious.

[spartanxhunterx]

Bug And Shell(d): Stoneheart

tags: @death-by-ladybug, @anti-hero650, @validate-me-please, @latchycat, @seraphichan @justheredreamin @imnotjealousjustgay @flimango @fer1521 @bronwynsfandoms @your-bro-bronwyn @sweenyalice @heldtogetherbysafetypins @queenofnot @dur55

If anyone else wants to be tagged let me know.

"The stone beings are scattered all over Paris, and for the time being, they are showing no signs of movement. Police have cordoned off the area."

Nino sighed as he watched the morning news, seeing the pictures of the stoneheart copies being stuck like statues. Each image a reminder of his and ladybugs failure yesterday.

This wasn't what was supposed to have happened, everything was supposed to have been fixed, not made worse. And he couldn't blame anyone but himself, it was his job to help Ladybug, if she didn't remember something it was his job to remind her.

So when he too forgot. Then he too had failed, failed Ladybug, failed Paris.

 "We won't stop until we find a way to get these people back to their normal selves, but for now, we're not making much headway."

 Neither was he, but hearing the mayor say he was doing everything he could was a little comforting, even if he knew it was pointless. Wayzz had said that only ladybug could fix the damage done by Akuma's and she needed the original Akuma to do so.

 "Paris is relying on our new guardian angels, ladybug and Carapace, to save us all. Our lives depend on them."

So far there was nothing that could be done unless Ivan got re-akumatised into stoneheart, only then could he and Ladybug capture the Akuma.

It was a complicated procedure that shouldn't have to happen, if only they had been more observant the first time around.

 " Nino? " the boy in question looked down to his younger brother, seeing him look up to him with eyes filled with wonder and childlike innocence, yet fear too.

His older brother instincts kicked in and he placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "What's up little dude?"

 " Are... Do you think they can fix this? "

Nino blinked before he realised what he was on about. "You mean Ladybug And Carapace?" Seeing his brother nod Nino quickly enveloped him in a one armed side hug. " Oh don't worry about it dude, I'm sure, wherever they are, they're trying to fix this right now. "

 "You think so?"

 " I know so. " Nino spoke factually, messing up his brothers hair. "I have full faith that the hero's are going to fix this, so don't you worry."

 For what choice did Nino really have? He was chosen to be Carapace, chosen to be a hero. He had to fix this, if not for his own sake then the well-being of all those who were being affected right now.

 "Chris come on, let's go." Their mother called and he had to suppress a chuckle at seeing Chris deflate.

His brother had really hoped for his school to be shut down with everything that was going on. Not that his school was in danger, no, it was far away enough to be considered out of the way.

 "Nino, make sure you leave on time, a lot of roads are closed cause of those statues."

 " You got it mom. "

Nino waited until he heard the door shut until he let out a defeated sigh, turning off the TV before he could see anymore of his failures.

 "Please don't beat yourself up master Nino, no-one is perfect."

 He looked up to see Wayzz sitting on the table, having come out after his family had left, munching on some of the fruit pieces he had been slowly munching on.

 "I know Wayzz but," Nino sighed as he shook his head. " You told me to help Ladybug and Ladybug said her Kwami told her to capture the Akuma, but me not remembering or reminding her that. I've failed Paris, failed you. "

 "Nonsense, I could not be more proud to call you one of my hatchlings." Wayzz floated up, then landed on his knee, a grape held in his nubby hands. " besides, one cannot improve if they do not fail. "

 "One does not learn through success but from failure. Already you have learnt a valuable lesson, Capture the Akuma, your next failure will teach you something as well. Master ."

 " how very inspiring Wayzz. " Nino flinched at the bluntness in his tone before he cast an apologetic look to the Kwami. "Sorry."

 He stood up and moved to his room, leaving Wayzz to float around as he pleased. As much as Wayzz was speaking the truth he didn't want to think about his next failure, or even the idea of failing from now on. Sure he had to learn but he shouldn't need to fail to do so.

As he scooped up his bag his eyes caught onto the inside, seeing the crumbled remains of his headphones, the events of yesterday had made him completely forget about getting replacements, not that he could do so quickly anyway.

Dumping his bag out into his desk he rearranged everything so he only had the essentials, trying to leave a large space for Wayzz to sit in comfortably. However, he didn't like the idea of him staying in there all the time, just in case he got separated from his bag, he needed Wayzz closer to him and he didn't want to leave him in his hat all the time.

People would notice it was crooked. Moving to his closet he opened it up and began to shift through everything, bypassing the T-shirts all of them the exact same until he came to the few jackets he owned.

There was a long sleeve white fleece jacket, a black bomber jacket, a brown hoodless jacket and...

Nino pulled out the green short sleeve zip up hoodie, seeing dark green octagons on the shoulders and elbows, the zip had the same dark green bordering it, a large pocket was on each side of the zip and the baggy hoody was hanging off the neck.

it was a gift from Marinette on his fourteenth birthday. It was a few sizes too big, or it had been, he had grown a little since he got it. Aside from a few occasions he hardly wore it. He opened the jacket by undoing the zip and peered inside, yep, right there were two large pockets on each side.

it was perfect.

Slipping it on he left the zip undone, it was beginning to reach warmer weather but there was enough of a chill in the air to justify wearing it. He adjusted the hood so it was open behind his neck before he picked his bag up and strung it over his shoulder, letting the bag rest on his hip.

Stepping out of his room he caught Wayzz finishing off the last of the fruit, for such a little guy he certainly could eat.

 "You ready to go buddy?" Nino picked up his lunch from the counter along with a few packets of mixed fruit.

 "Yes Master." Nino frowned as he zipped up his bag.

" Dude, I know you mean well. But please don't call me that, it makes me feel old. "

Wayzz chuckled as he floated up to him. "Of course, apologies, it is a habit I find hard to break."

" You're good little dude. " He opened up his jacket, revealing the pockets and Wayzz was quick to settle into one of them, now he wouldn't have to worry so much about losing him. Making sure his hat was on properly he left his house.

-

Once outside he began to make his way to school, he let his shoulders relax and kept his eyes open on where he was going. He wasn't exactly expecting Stoneheart to drop down in front of him but after yesterday he couldn't exactly ignore the possibility.

He eventually found himself stepping around to the street that had his school and he picked up his pace, at best he would get through today fine but, given that Ivan was their classmate, everyone would be talking about what happened yesterday... Right in front of Ivan too.

Hell, Ivan would be the center of attention today whether he liked it or not and who knew what he was feeling. He picked up his pace and before he knew it he was already through the doors. Eyes scanning left and right, seeing that school was just beginning to fill out properly.

His eyes landed on the hulking frame of Ivan, who was slouched on the bench, head down and eyes cast to the ground. Fortunately he was alone, unfortunately he didn't look to be in a good mode.

Call him selfish but he didn't want Ivan to be akumatised again, not because he didn't want everything to be fixed but because he didn't want Ivan to go through that again. He already looked defeated enough as it was and it hadn't even been a day yet. He stepped closer until he was before him, realising that Ivan wasn't paying attention he sat next to him and waited.

it was only when he looked towards Nino that Nino looked back. "You alright dude? You look a little... Grim?"

Ivan sighed, hand dragging along his face. "I don't know, it's weird."

 "About yesterday?" He saw him nod and he couldn't blame Ivan for not wanting to talk about it. It was unclear what he was feeling or even how he was responding to everything. "Hey, don't worry about it too much, I know it must be... Confusing but I don't think you're at fault for this."

 "You don't? " Ivan sounded surprised and Nino suspected it was because he wasn't expecting anyone to say what he said. Or at least defend him in some way.

"Of course not, if you were going to blow your top it would be because of Chloé and her... Well Chloé being Chloé I suppose, not to mention, if everything that happened yesterday came from you... We would have seen it a lot sooner."

Ivan huffed, and Nino was left with the impression that he had said the wrong thing. Still he made the decision to stay where he was, just so Ivan knew he at least had Nino as silent support.

"Yo! Ivan." Nino winced as Alix skated up to them, he silently hoped that she wouldn't start anything. The pink haired girl was normally pretty chill but had her aggressive streak when pushed. He hoped for Ivan's sake she was in a chill mood today.

"Alix. Don't." Alix at least had the dignity to look affronted and held her hands up defensively.

"Hey, I'm just checking in." Well that wasn't too bad at least. "Need to know if he's gonna go Rocky Road Reject on us."

" Alix! " It was bad enough to hear the same insult that he had said, in the heat of the moment, but to hear it be used against Ivan was worse. "Not cool Dude. That was uncalled for."

" What? Just making sure we're safe. " Nino clenched his jaw, this was the opposite that he wanted to happen, this would stress Ivan out and he would get re-akumatised.

He could tell it was going to be made worse by the approaching group of Kim, Juleka, Rose and Max. Nino sent his own silent pleas to them to not cause anything but it seemed the prospect of talking to Ivan was too tempting.

Hell, even Chloé had moved closer, leaning herself against the beam with Sabrina next to her, holding her bag for her.

Ivan seemed to pick up on the negativity too, as he huffed while looking away. "Guys, Don't."

" What happened yesterday man? " Nino was seriously going to smack Kim upside the head, the jocks indignation be damned.

"Kim." It seemed Nino's words were falling on deaf ears today as no-one responded to him.

" I don't know. " Ivan looked so beaten down right now, with the way his shoulders were hunched and he was trying to make his large frame look small.

"You have to admit it is strange, people don't just become Rock monsters in a day." For once, Nino actually glared at Max and it seemed he took notice of him, finally. Whatever words were on his tongue died as he nervously cleaned his glasses. "So clearly we're missing a lot of important information, I just wanted to ask you about it."

" There's nothing to tell, I don't even remember anything. " that seemed to get everyone's attention as their faces relaxed, although Nino quickly noted that Chloé didn't seem to do the same. Granted she didn't look like anything other then relaxed already.

"Wait," Alix seemed to pause, as if contemplating what she should say. "So you really don't remember anything? At all?"

"You were totally going ballistic." Nino sent an annoyed look to Juleka , seriously her too? She seemed to take his pointed look in stride, not even flinching.

Ivan was halfway through shaking his head when Kim stepped up closer, not aggressively but certainly far from calm. "You were seriously out to crush me dude!"

Missing the way Ivan looked towards Mylene, who was standing a little away from the group, Nino stood until he was between Kim and Ivan. "Maybe he wouldn't have been like that if you didn't antagonize him yesterday, what did you even do?"

 "Its nothing Nino." The Moroccan boy looked back to the class giant, finding to odd that he was telling him to not worry. "I'm sorry Kim... I wasn't myself..."

The disbelieving, antagonizing scoff that came from behind them was enough to set Nino's gutt off, he was quick to turn to Chloé, who he had been graciously ignoring to not start anything with her himself.

 "Once a monster, always a monster." Nino hardly had time to retort before Iavn had gotten up with a huff, shoulder checking him as he stalked past and away from everyone else. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out!" She called after him, hardly looking up from her manicured nails.

"Really Chloé?" The blonde didn't even look up at him but Sabrina certainly sent a smug look his way.

" plu-ease, I'm not wrong. "

 "Oh yes you are!" Nino blinked as Alya stepped up to Chloé, not at all bothered about getting close to the mayor's daughter. "How could you say that to Ivan? You're the real monster."

 "Ugh, so I'm the one who broke Sabrina's dad's arm am i?" As much as Chloé was a brat she often had good points when it came to her arguments but Nino wasn't going to hold it against Ivan. Given that he was under mind control. "Just because your footage of those lame superheroes was shown on Tv, doesn't mean you have to get so high and mighty."

 Chloé blew the wad of gum in her mouth to form a bubble between the two girls faces, who had gotten quite close to each other, until it popped in alya's face. "Why you Little..."

 "Look out, she's angry! She's going to split her underwear and turn into a huge muscly monster." Chloé snickered as Alya walked away in her own huff, would she be akumatised as well? Could there be two at once? Nino didn't know and he certainly didn't think to ask Wayzz before.

" Hey Chloé. " Whatever was going to happen came to halt as Chloé seemed to light up in delight , actual delight, as she turned to the source of the voice. Nino could hardly see the head of Blonde hair before Chloé had jumped onto them.

That was enough for Nino to know that whoever they were, they had enough familiarity with Chloé to actually choose to be around her. And that was bad enough in Nino's eyes.

"Hey is that Adrien?"

" Adrien Agreste? "

"Is that that model?"

Nino ignored the whispers as he walked away and towards his class room, ignoring the way how the new boy gently pushed Chloe away by her shoulders , as if it was normal to have the blonde girl hanging off of him.

once he got in the room he placed his bag down and sat in his seat, Marinette wasn't here yet, neither was Alya or many other students. Only nathaniel was present, drawing in his book.

It was times like these that he wished he had his headphones, just so he could jam out to a little music before class, Bustier was very lax on that as long as he didn't do it when class started. But he had some time to waste so he brought out his phone and powered it up. He sat there, just goofing off as he waited for the class to begin.

one by one the other classmates entered, taking their seats and quietly talking. Nino shot a quick look down to his jacket, he couldn't see Wayzz but he could just feel his weight in his pocket. It felt weird just having a tiny being right there, a massive secret that could be blown out of the water if someone were to look in his pocket.

 "Wow." Chloé's voice flowed through the doorway, for once Nino could swear it sounded like she was actually happy. It sounded really strange after all the false happiness she had given off over the years. The way how she half ran into the room gave off her excitement. "This is your seat, Adrikins. " The blonde girl gestured to the seat next to Nino and, for once, she didn't seem bothered that he was there. "I saved it for you. Right in front of me."

Adrikins, or Adrien if Nino had heard correctly, walked in. Back straight, head high and not unlike Chloé. Passing by Chloé he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks Chloé."

" Just remember, as long as we get past roll call you're in the clear. " He gave her a thumbs up as he sat in the seat next to Nino, it seemed as if he had only just seen him.

 "Uh… Hey!" The blonde boy held out his hand in greeting, "Adrien."

Model boy.

friend of Chloé.

He looked well off by his clothes.

Not a good combo in Nino's eyes. "So, you're a friend of Chloé's huh?" He leaned on his raised hand, balling his fist just below his jaw as his elbow rested on the table. Eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, even as Wayzz tapped against his chest calmly.

For a fleeting moment Adrien's faced dropped, the smile he had been giving him faltered and his hand dropped to the table. Perhaps things would be awkward between them but Nino knew he had to put his foot down somewhere, if not between Chloé and Marinette then between himself and Adrien.

His sight didn't last on him for long as Nino's eyes darted to Chloé, seeing her pass off her chewed gum to Sabrina.

"Really Chloé? Can't go a day can you?"

Chloé turned and gave him the stink eye as Sabrina took the gum. " This is none of your business Lahiffe, why don't you drown yourself in your music like a good boy. " Nino frowned as Chloé turned to admire Sabrina's work in sticking the gum to the seat, giving it a squish to spread it as far as she could.

Adrien also seemed to notice after turning back towards them, what surprised Nino was the look of slight disgust that crossed Adrien's face upon seeing their 'work'.

"Hey," he was quick to stand up from his seat and Nino had to blink as his own assumptions of the boy were broken. " what's that all about? "

 " The brats that sat here yesterday need a little attitude adjustment." Chloé seemed satisfied with what Sabrina had done and gestured her to get up. "I'm just commanding a bit of respect, that's all."

Adrien leaned down in the space that Sabrina had just vacated and hesitantly tried to pick up the Gum. "Is that really necessary?" The blonde boy grimaced as the gum stuck to the end of his fingers but he didn't stop trying to remove it.

" You've got a lot to learn about school culture adrikins, watch the master." Chloé looked rather proud with what she had caused and Nino would admit he wasn't expecting Adrien to try to remove the gum or even question Chloé for that matter.

Perhaps he had been wrong about him or at least... There was more to him then he could see anyway. Perhaps he had been a little hasty with the way he had acted, been rude for presuming. Maybe it would be best to restart with him?

Especially if he did manage to remove the gum, as he was still trying to do, that seemed to garner a little respect from Alix too. As she had front row seats to his attempts.

The sound of two gasps caught Nino's attention and he swung his head back around to the door, seeing both Alya and Marinette there.

"Hey!" Half the class jumped at Marinette's shout and Nino could've sworn he heard Nath mutter something. "What do you think you're doing?"

If it wasn't for the sour look on her face Nino would have considered Mari's stomping to be quite cute.

Adrien stumbled slightly, fingers slipping on the gum and making it spread slightly more. "uhh... I..."

As Mari's face grew into a scowl as both Chloé and Sabrina burst out laughing, as if putting one of their friends under the ire of a, presumably, angry person was a funny thing.

if this was how she treated friends then he really didn't want to know what she did to people she loathed.

"Okay." She had turned to the two girls, directing her scowl to them. "I get it." She rounded back on Adrien, Nino could see she was making him nervous. "Good job, you three. Very funny."

She knelt down as she tried to remove the gum herself, grimacing as her fingers came away with the gum attached.

 "No No. I was trying to take it off, really." She stood, turned on him and leaned into his space, naturally he leaned back, not wanting to have the clearly angry girl up in his face.

" Oh really? I find that hard to believe. " As Chloé and Sabrina laughed even harder she backed off, opened her backpack and pulled out a napkin that she laid on the gum, so as not to sit on it herself. "You're friends with Chloé right?"

 "Why do people keep saying that?" Like it was a bad thing went unspoken. Mari huffed at him before taking her seat, being mindful to not actually sit on the napkin. Alya taking her seat next to her a moment afterwards.

Defeated, Adrien slumped down in his chair next to Nino, arms crossed in front of him and head down slightly.

 "Now do you see what I mean about respect?" Chloé's hands came up to her chin, where her fingers intertwined together.

Adrien let out a sigh as his head dropped slightly further, his first day at school wasn't going as well as he thought it would.

Nino looked on, seeing the defeated and disappointed look on his face and he truly felt bad for him. Very few had ever earned Marinette's ire, Chloé being the prime example, and he felt bad that Adrien had gotten on her bad side after his first meeting with her.

Not a feat easily broken.

 "I know I've seen him somewhere before." He could hear Mari speaking quietly, her eyes were narrowed at Adrien and for a moment Nino and Marinette locked eyes. Her eyes softened, as if recognising that he was in a bad place, being surrounded by the trio.

Her attention was stolen when Alya bumped her arm and she turned to her seat-mate where her attention was stolen by her friends phone. She quickly took it before scrolling through the images present.

 "Of course, he's the son of my fave fashion designer Gabriel Agreste. "

 "Daddy's boy, Teen supermodel AND Chloé's friend. " Alya counted off each point with a raised finger, her head shaking after she was done. "Ha! Forget it."

Nino winced as Adrien shrunk in on himself quietly, it seemed having someone pointing out a few things that made him unfriendable really took a hit on him. He leaned forwards, catching his attention.

 "Why didn't you tell them it was Chloé's idea?"

 "I've known Chloé since I was a little kid. I know she's not perfect, but I can't throw her under the bus. She's like my only friend."

Only friend? As in one and only friend? He couldn't imagine going his whole life with just one person as a friend, much less someone like Chloé.

 "I'm Nino," He outstretched his hand towards him, copying his greeting from earlier. "and it's time for you to make some new friends, dude."

He saw Adrien's smile curve up slightly before their hands clasped together in a firm shake. Solidifying a new friendship, much to Chloé's Charing.

 "I suppose I should apologise about earlier, I may have jumped the gun and judged you a little too early. " Nino rubbed the back of his neck as he looked to the door, seeing Miss Bustier entering the room.

"It's cool, I guess I've still got a lot to learn about public school. "

Nino would have questioned him further if not to Bustier clearing her throat to get everyone's attention. "Alright class, time to quite down now."

Several students grumbled as they ceased their conversation, several put away things that would be deemed 'distractions'. Mylene gave an apologetic look as she came in and quietly took her seat.

"Agreste, Adrien? " She inquired as she read off the register, eyes looking up expectantly at the boy.

Nino leaned over, hand half covering his mouth as he whispered. "You say 'present'."

 "Uh, Present!" He had raised right out of his seat, standing up tall as he raised his hand all the way up. The entire class burst out laughing , even Chloé who simply covered her mouth with her hand to placate herself.

Nino only chuckled slightly as he sat back down and Miss Bustier gave him a fond, slightly amused smile.

"Bourgeois, Chloé?"

 " Present. " She flicked her hair as she said this. However, Nino didn't pay attention to her as the sound of heavy thumps began to draw closer.

 "Bruel, Ivan?" Quicker then Nino could blink the large form of stoneheart ran up to the door, reared back his fist and then punched the door right off its hinges where it flew back towards the opposite wall.

"PRESENT!"

Miss. Bustier had dropped her register at the sudden noise. Nino scrambled to stand, grabbing Adrien by the biceps and dragging him across the bench towards him and away from the centre isle.

"MYLĒNE?" As stoneheart stomped closer to the middle of the room everyone else scrambled away, Alya and Marinette rushed out of their seats and began to back up, screaming, to the far end of the classroom with Kim, Max, rose, Juleka and Alix.

Sabrina had disappeared, Nathaniel was halfway between trying to run and hide and Chloé was sunk down below her desk.

Nino watched from the doorway as Stoneheart batted away Marinette's desk before reaching out and picking up Mylēne after bumping the table out of the way.

She squirmed in his grasp, trying to escape. "Let go of me Ivan."

"I'm not Ivan anymore. I'm stoneheart. " Nino watched from the doorway as everyone else also watched on in horror, he didn't know what had set Ivan off again but he hoped he wouldn't be as destructive as yesterday.

"Why are you doing this?" He pitied Mylēne, stuck in the grasp of someone who wasn't themselves, even as Wayzz whacked himself against his chest to urge him to run and transform.

 "So you and I can be together, Forever." Such a statement would normally be cute if not for the fact that Ivan was a towering mound of rock and intimidation. Nino slowly began to back out of the room, eyes caught on stoneheart as he did so.

 "Daddy." Chloé's voice echoed around the room as she spoke into her phone, drawing Ivan's attention to her, his raised the girl in his hand above his head to see below him, Mylene let out a squeak at the movement . "The monsters back."

 "You!" He grabbed the desk Chloé was hiding under, flinging it to the front of the class, Miss Bustier had to duck down to avoid being hit by it.

"Chloé!"

As Stoneheart reached out to grab her, Adrien, who had been standing close to where Chloé's desk had been, ran forward to her. As he grabbed her around the shoulders both blondes were caught up in Stonehearts fist.

Adrien's arms were pinned around Chloé as her legs kicked the open air below her, half catching Adrien in the shins. Chloé gave out frightened yells as Adrien kept grunting at the pressure surrounding the two of them, along with Chloé kicking him in the shins.

"Ivan Stop!" Nino's hand clenched onto the doorframe, half holding himself back and half keeping him from running away. " This isn't you! "

"You're right. " For a moment Nino thought that he had gotten through to him, made him come to his senses, only for that to come crashing down. "This is stoneheart, Not Ivan! "

Stoneheart turned towards the wall, raised his foot, then kicked it down. Sending bricks, dust and rubble into the road below, he jumped down, making his three passengers scream out as they came closer to the ground.

finally Nino's legs let him move and he quickly turned away from the door and out the classroom, feet hitting the floor in his haste, before he knew it he had found himself in the empty locker room. As he leaned against the row of lockers Wayzz flew out of his pocket.

"Sorry for not leaving faster dude. I just..."

" Thought you could resolve it without violence, " Nino nodded at the little beings words, not bothering to speak his own. "It's ok to detest violence but sometimes to defend people it is necessary. We should go, ladybug will be needing us. "

"You're right. "

He stepped away from the lockers and backed up into the bathroom, although there were no cameras in the locker room he didn't want to run the risk of someone seeing him transform. He took one look at himself in the mirror, seeing his slightly ragged state before breathing in a long breath before letting it back out.

 "Alright. Wayzz, Shell on. " He pinched the brim of his hat, running his fingers across the edge as he fastened it to his head, Wayzz morphed into a ball of pure energy as he was pulled into the miraculous, turning it from its pale green to it's darker, active, variant.

He shot out his right hand as the magic began to flow over his body, covering him in his suit. His other hand laid flat on the floor as he transitioned into a backspin as the rest of his body was covered from the neck down.

His shield popped into existence on his back and he halted his spin by placing his hands on the floor, pushing himself up he reached behind him to grasp at the hood as it started to form, bringing it up and over his head as his glasses transformed into goggles.

He ended his transformation off by having his arms crossed over his chest with his back straight and shoulders taunt.

His eyes caught onto the little shell shaped tool on his hip and he brought it up to his eyes level, holding it like one would hold a phone. "Really gotta figure this thing out." Clipping it back to his waste he made a move for the door. " really hope ladybug isn't far away, gonna need her. "

-

Outside, Stoneheart stomped his way down the street, each step caused cars and loose object to jolt and bounce in place.

In one hand Mylēne squirmed in Stonehearts grip and in the other the two blondes were squashed together tightly.

 "You have no idea who you're dealing with." Chloé's neck was crained as she tried to look behind her at Stoneheart, failing due to Adrien blocking her as he was squished to her back. "My daddy, the mayor, will bring in the police, the army, the entire cavalry!"

Perhaps she was putting up a front, trying to seem like she was in control of the situation and not at the mercy of her captor but she would never give anyone the satisfaction of thinking otherwise.

"Don't forget the superheroes!" A dull thunk echoed as Carapace's shield rebounded off the back of Stonehearts head, a second later the hero responsible landed on his shoulder before back-flipping off of him to land before the four of them.

 in response to the hit, the cracks between his body began to glow and stoneheart grew in size, become even larger then he had been the first time Carapace had fought him.

 "Oop's, my bad."

"Super incompetent, more like." Chloé casually tapped her fingers against Stoneheart enlarged hand in an annoyed fashion, still trying to come off like she had control of the situation. At least she and Adrien weren't as squashed together anymore.

 "Really chloé? Is now the time? "

"Oh, hush adrikins. "

Stoneheart huffed, his shoulders jolting as he did so. "You wanted the cavalry? Well, here it is!" All around them large pounding noises echoed around them and multiple of the stoneheart copies began to run towards them, circling him. He was wondering when they would show up. "Seize him!" 

Carapace jumped to the side as one of the copies tried to slam their hand down on him, then he quickly rolled between the legs of another when they stepped forwards.

"Behind you!" glancing back he saw the wound up fist of one of the copies, quickly thinking he backflipped, hands gliding up the closed fist until he grasped onto the Rocky bumps that made their knuckles, landing on its wrist as it slammed into the ground were he had been just a second prior.

Seemingly bored of watching his minions toy with the hero, Stoneheart turned and walked away. "Ivan, where are we going?" His Rocky stoic features seemed to lighten up slightly before he looked off in the distance.

 "To deliver a message, then we'll be brought together forever by a pretty black butterfly. "

"Ugh, all this lovey dovey stuff is making me sick."

 " you sure that's not just motion sickness chloé? "

Stoneheart looked down to the two blondes in his hand, glaring at them, he may not have intended to grab the boy but anyone who choose to defend someone like Chloé was not a good person in his mind. "Don't worry you monsters, I'll deal with you two as well. "

Chloé cringed as she tried to sink further into Stonehearts hand while Adrien went stiff as a board.

-

Just further down the street Carapace was doing his best to catch up to the original Stoneheart whilst trying to simultaneously dodge each of the copies as they tried to capture him.

further behind them Alya was running up the road, phone out recording trying to capture as much of the fight as she could. She saw as one of the copies hurled a car at the turtle hero, forcing him to roll out of its path, her legs twitched with the desire to get closer but stayed back for the sake of getting the perfect shot. Even as she crouched behind a nearby bin.

 "If you can hear me bug! I could use a little help!"

 Alya eyebrows furrowed as she looked around to the rooftops, trying to spot the red clad hero. There was no sight of her, she didn't think the two heroes would be far away from one another for long yet she couldn't see a single drop of the colour red.

"What is she waiting for?" Her arms dropped slightly as she tried to look around more, as if the hero would have been flying around outside of her field of vision.

Due to this she did not see when one of the copies threw another car at Carapace, while he dodged with precision the car continued its journey towards the blogger.

When it's shadow cast over her she looked back and her eyes widened at the sight of the several tonne vehicle flying right at her. It's front bumper was half scraping against the floor as its rear was swinging down towards her. She didn't hear other noises around her as her eyes locked into the car, eyes seeing nothing but the undercarriage.

Until a round green shield wedged itself between the wall behind her and the automotive in front of her. Even then the shield couldn't protect her for long as the car slipped to the side, dropping in front of her and trapping her in place when it leaned on the wall again.

The car was putting just enough pressure on her that she couldn't move very much and what few movements she could make were uncomfortable at best.

The sound of a zip wire caught her attention as a black wire wrapped its way around the car, slowly the car pulled back off her allowing her to crawl her way out of the space she had been trapped in. She hardly had time to pull up her phone before ladybug had walked up to her, here eyes only half on the blogger.

 "You can't stay here," She flicked her wrist, sending her yo-yo out as it hit Carapace's discarded shield, forcing it to bounce off the ground where she caught it in her free hand. "It's too dangerous."

The black panels on her back lifted as her four wings began to flutter, she took several running steps forward before launching her yo-yo at a streetlamp where it wrapped around and pulled her forwards and off the ground.

Using her yo-yo for leverage she swung her way around the corner , flying around the furthest back stoneheart copy she twirled to keep her partners shield in her grasp. She landed on the shoulder of the second copy before jumping up and out of its reach, she spotted Carapace stuck in the grasp of the fourth copy, one arm held in its grip but the other was moving freely, trying to pry himself free.

"Carapace! Catch! " Twirling her whole body around she threw the shield with all her strength, it was heavier then it looked. "Wedge it!"

He caught it with his free hand seamlessly before slamming it down into the gap in his captors hand.

Nothing happened.

He tried again with the same result. " Bug! It's not working! "

"Working on it!"

Carapace tried to jam the shield in the gap between the copies thumb and fingers, trying to pry it open. He was meet with the same results as the other attempts. Ladybug was fluttering about around him, just  out of his captors reach whilst also deflecting the projectiles that were thrown at her.

What he needed was something else that would fit in the gap, something smaller. He felt a tingling in the back of his head, like he was remembering something. His trapped hand brushed against something, a bump in his suit... His other tool, of course! Maybe that would do something.

He grunted as he twisted his hand to grip it, feeling the few ridges in it that made the top half feel like it was bigger then the lower half. Slowly he twisted his arm and tried to get his hand between himself and the stone copies fist. He hardly had his hand halfway up his chest until he couldn't move it no more.

"I'm trying something! Get ready to act!" Ladybug nodded before flying around to the front of the line using her Yo-Yo to trip the front most one to slow them all down. He squeezed the tool and it hissed out its response in the form of four short cables coming out of it, one from each of the four 'holes' in the tools design that made it look like a real turtle.

The wires shot out from his captors hand and quickly curved inwards, all of them intending to meet up with one anohther, they all connected together behind the stone copies head and suddenly his tool was retracting the wires. Pulling his captors hand closer to their own head.

with a heavy thunk the two body parts collided and in their surprise they had opened their fist enough for Carapace to slip out, taking his tool with him as the wires snapped back into place.

the staggering stone minion collided with the one behind it and Carapace couldn't stop the triumphant smile that spread across his face. He felt a wire wrap around his chest before he was yanked up off the floor until he was dropped onto a nearby roof, ladybug landed next to him, her wings fluttering as if ready to take off again.

"Sorry I was late, but we need to go."

"It's cool dudette, you're here now, let's start with these guys." Carapace Clipped both his shield and tool to his back and hip before rolling his shoulder, legs bending as he readied himself to jump back down.

 " No. " her yo-yo wrapped around his chest again and before he knew it she was already pulling him along with her as she flew over roof tops. Each time she hit her peak height she would tug on her wire, sending him higher then he could go himself.

 He could manage the landing just fine and was able to jump from outcrop to outcrop but he couldn't make the larger gaps between buildings.

"If we wanna save them all then we need to go to the source. " Ladybug had launched them over a large gap in the building, sending them over the trocadéro before they landed close to the centre.

He landed in a roll as Ladybug fluttered down next to him, the two of them had a perfect view of the original stoneheart, of  Ivan, as he stood  on top of the higher floor of the Eiffel tower, yelling as the helicopters got too close to him.

"That one." From where they stood they could see all the other Stonehearts getting closer to the bottom of the Eiffel tower, putting pressure onto the police officers who were trying to stop them.

Just at the beginning of the Bridge a small police blockage was set up, more to stop civilians from passing then stopping the monsters from roaming as they pleased.

Mayor Bourgeois was just in front of them, a megaphone in hand.

"I demand you return  those kids to us immediately!" Even from where they were, due to his size, they could see Stonehearts face Scrunch up in disgust.

 "Daddy! " They did pitty Chloé, even they knew she didn't deserve to be stuck where she was.

 "You Know what! ? " They saw him begin to pull back his arm, fear  coursed through them as they realised what he was about to do. And it wasn't just Chloé who was there either, Adrien was caught up in the Same hand too.

 "Bug, throw me." She looked to him, then down to her yo-yo before flickering it at him, wrapping it around his chest once more.

"You're welcome to them! " Stoneheart sent his arm fowards, opening his fist to release the two blondes who went soaring through the air.

 around them Screams echoed as all the bystanders yelled in horror. Chloé heard none of it over the wind and her own quick plea to be saved in turn for being nicer.

Before she hit the ground she felt two arms collide around her until she was sliding on the air, when she opened her eyes she saw herself looking up to the heroine from her arms. Ladybug had caught her. "I didn't promise."

 " What? "

Chloé shot up as she looked around her, eyes landing on Adrien as he was curled up in the arms of Carapace, who looked like he had done a knee slide after catching him. Later she would watch the video footage and see that he had come out of nowhere, ladybug fast on his heels, and catching her long time friend midair.

For now though she was content to run to him and embrace him in a hug as he stood up and away from Carapace.

He two Hero's quickly got back together, standing side by side as they looked up at Stoneheart.

 " Alright, we're clear to attack! " Officer Raincomprix ordered from the top of the police van, one arm still in a sling, the officers around them readied their weapons and took aim at Stoneheart.

Wait what! Mylēne was still up there.

 "No Stop! You'll only make it worse." Roger seemed to scowl at them, his good arm pointing at them in a way a parent would scold a child.

 "I have a new plan, unlike you!" He waved his arms in a dismissive manner, trying to dismiss them. "Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once!"

Beside him ladybug gasped quietly, her body going still as her wings froze. Her shoulders slumped as she turned to him. "He's right you know." Nino flinched at the look that had crossed her face, defeat mixed with sadness. "If I had captured Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, none of this would have happened! I knew I wasn't the right one for this job…" Her hands had come up to her face, as if she were trying to hide herself away.

He breathed in a sharp breath as his shoulders tensed up, he didn't stop to think about how their failure could have affected her. " No. "  He patted her shoulder reassuringly before he turned around to Roger, a glare leveled his way. "You're wrong! If it wasn't for us Stoneheart wouldn't have stopped rampaging yesterday!"

 Those around them gasped at him as he spoke to Roger in a clearly disrespectful mannner, voice rising with each sentence.

 " If it weren't for us you would have a lot more damage on your hands, and these two-" He pointed to both Adrien and Chloé. "Wouldn't be here right now! And that would have been on you!"

 " yeah we failed but you know what!? We learned, we now know what to do! So don't tell us to back down when you're the one lining up to shoot him, " his arms gestured to stoneheart, who was starting to wobble slightly, "While he is STILL holding onto a hostage!"

Silence feel over those present and Roger actually looked ashamed to realise he had almost ordered people to fire on a kid, well two actually.

Standing on her own Ladybug felt her heart quicken, her eyes roamed over Carapace, as if seeing him for the first time. She couldn't remember a time when someone defended her like that, it was... heartwarming.

The sound of a deep intense cough caught everyone's attention, all of them turning to stoneheart as he bellowed out the coughs, small black clouds escaped his mouth before he collapsed backwards on the towers platform with a groan.

  A larger Clowd rushed out of his mouth and all of them converged together, spinning and spiralling until they formed a shape, no, a face within the floating form of... many, many Akuma's.

 "People of paris! " the face moved as it spoke, as if manipulated to copy the speaker, the deep voice echoing around the entire area and it sent chills down people spins. "I am Hawkmoth! "

"Hawkmoth? " The two heroes looked to each other, now they had a name to the one who had caused the Akuma in the first place.

 "Ladybug, Carapace. Hand over the ladybug earrings and cat ring now! You've done enough damage to these innocent people."

What? They had caused enough damage, that didn't even make sense, not to mention neither of them had the Cat ring, he had the turtle bracelet and she had the earrings but not a ring.

A slow methodical clap came from next to him, his eyes darted to Ladybug as she slowly walked forwards, hands clapping against one another as she went.

"Nice try, Hawk Moth, but we know who the bad guy is." She spread her arms wide, confidence radiating off her in waves. "Let's not reverse the roles here. Without you, none of these innocent victims would be transformed into villains."

" And trufully, if you weren't the bad guy, you would have asked for the ladybug and the turtle not the cat, that goes to show you aren't trying to help people, you're after those miraculous specifically for yourself. "

"Hawk Moth, no matter how long it takes, we will find you, and YOU will hand us YOUR miraculous!"

 She pulled her yo-yo from its belt, her wings began to flail wildly as she began to run, flicking her yo-yo forwards she grabbed onto the fence before pulling herself towards the railing, she pulled herself to it and jumped up off of it, high into the air where her wings began fluttering hard to keep her afloat.

Her yo-yo split open, revealing the pure white magic inside that thrummed with energy. She flung her tool towards the massive Cluster of the akuma, capturing a large swath of them in a single go, leaving a open chunk left in Hawkmoths face for a moment before more of them replaced them.

Hawkmoths image began to help out in frustration, the face changing to match its master true feelings.

She didn't let up though, she swung again, and again, and again until the Akuma could not continue to sustain the form any longer, splitting off individually in a burst of energy where her yo-yo caught all of them as they tried to espace. The last one tried to fly off but she flew towards it and caught it as she landed on the floor of the tower.

Down below, everyone else stood in shock, disbelief and amazement written across their faces as they looked up to her.

 "People of paris, Let me make this promise to you. No matter who wants to harm you, Ladybug and Carapace will do everything in our power to keep you safe! " Her hand flicked open her yo-yo and she raised it above her head, within a second a giant swarm of butterflies erupted from it, where they scattered around Paris in a manner similar to an explostion.

Down before the people cheered, Overjoyed to see that not only did the hero's have their back but that they would truly defend them. The officers clapped each other on the shoulders while Chloé jumped into her father's back out of excitement.

 " I think I'm in love. " came from the blonde boys mouth. enhanced with the beauty of Ladybug. His love for the new icon would be... Blinding.

Carapace crossed his arms, a smirk growing on his face, seeing her change dramatically from upset to pure confident was good, especially when it was him who caused that... or at least he hoped so.

His face dropped though, this wasn't over yet. His eyes hardened as they looked to the spot behind his partner, Stoneheart was still there. Pulling his tool from his hip he began to run towards the tower. As he drew closer to the bottom of the leg he jumped, managing to reach a height he had not reached previously, he landed on the beams of the tower, then jumped up again to the next beam within his reach.

He wasn't able to jump anywhere close to as high as Ladybug could, but it was enough that, with a few leaps, he could make it to the floor where she stood in a few short moments. 

a loud road echoed from the floor were she was and Carapace watched as she went flying away unwillingly, she rotated to catch herself before hoovering in the air, her eyes darted down to him just as he got up to where she had been.

"Help me!" He could see Mylēne wave her arms from where she was stuck in Ivan's hand.

 "You'll never take Mylēne from me! " The hulking form of Stoneheart bellowed as he jumped up to a raised part of the platform, his heavy impact had sent him down into his butt before he could make use of his tool.

He jumped up and latched onto the steel beams of the tower slowly bringing himself up with only his free hand as leverage. "Come to me my stone beings! "

The tower began to shake with each Rocky hand that grasped hold of it, the grumbles and grunts of each of the minions echoed around them as they climbed higher and Higher.

Carapace looked over the edge of the railing seeing the advancing beings with a hint of worry on his face, He hadn't faired very well when he went up against them last and now he might have to do it again.

Ladybug landed next to him as she too surveyed the scene, her eyes moving up to Stoneheart himself.

"Alright, so we're surrounded." Carapace started, walking closer to Ladybug in a half pace. " he's climbing higher and we have no way of attacking him. "

 "yes, but we know where the Akuma is." Carapace turned to look where she was, seeing stoneheart climbing up the metal above them.

 " In his clenched fist, the one he's holding Mylēne with. So..." He trailed off, trying to think of some way for them to separate both Ivan and Mylēne, at least long enough to get the akumatised object.

"So we know he's in love with her." Her eyes widened, then came the joyous smile that accompanied her exaggerated arm movements. "That's it, We don't separate Stoneheart and Mylène: we bring them closer together." She brought her hands together, palms flat as she tilted her head to the side, as if daydreaming. "They're made for each other, they just don't know if yet."

Her wings flapped as she jumped off the platform, dropping for a second before she floated upwards, body facing him as she twirled her yo-yo next to her.

 "I don't see what you see, but I trust you. Let's get this done." He took a few steps forwards before leaping up to stand on the railing, Ladybugs Yo-Yo wrapped around his torso tightly. "You know, I feel like this," he gestured to her tool, " is going to be a common thing from now on. "

"Just letting you keep up."

She took off, wings bringing her up higher as she circled around the tower, Carapace had his feet hitting the metal as he ran to keep up with her momentum. Her wire did most of the work in pulling him up, his eyes caught the helicopters that were getting just a little too close for his liking.

As he cleared the railing of the upper most platform Ladybugs yo-yo slipped off of him and he landed in a roll. Ladybug herself used her momentum to flip her body around and down until she landed perfectly onto one of the small poles above.

Mylēne saw her from her place in Stonehearts hand and she reached out towards ladybug despite the considerable distance. "Help! I'm scared of heights!"

 " everything going to be ok! "

Stoneheart let out a gravely roar as the two helicopters got way too close, they veered off and almost began to get out of control before they straightened themselves back to normal and backed off.

Carapace rubbed his ears as he looked around him, seeing the Stoneheart copies pulling themselves over the railing and up to where he was.

He dodged the first wild swing with a back-peddle, his arm reached behind him and pulled his shield off his back as he rolled away from a second swing.

Bringing his shield up he let a third hit connect, the force making him slide away slightly, yet it left him no worse for wear. Feeling the heavy footsteps coming from behind him he turned his shoulders to peak behind him, standing there, arms raised ready to come down on him was a third Stoneheart being, the other two being positioned in front of him.

Seeing as he had no room to move or dodge, he raised his shield up. "Shell-ter!" The invincible dome of magic formed around him just before any more hits could connect to him. With the passing seconds he could feel the three present minions pounding away at his defences. If they weren't dealt with soon he would be forced to maintain the barrier until his transformation dropped.

"If you're going to do something, now's the time dudette!"

She breathed in, out, then locked eyes on Ivan. It was now or never, all or nothing.

"Lucky Charm!" Here yo-yo split open, the cloud of Ladybug swarmed together to create a, "Parachute? What am I supposed to do with this?"

Seeing one of the beings step abck, Carapace dropped his barrier before darting between the now empty space, hands grabbing into the support for the section in which Ladybug was perched he pulled himself up and just out of their reach. "We gotta work fast, my timers going!" To illustrate his point his miraculous let out its first set of beeps as the first segment faded away.

 " Just get ready. "

She threw her yo-yo, the string going under Stonehearts arm before coming back around his neck and up to her. She grabbed hold of the end and braced her feet into the area in which she was standing.

She pulled hard, causing Stonhearts hand to be pulled closer to his chest, where once the two of them were close enough, Mylēne accidentally kissed his chest, just below his chin.

She released the Yo-yo wire as he reacted, throwing his arm out in surprise, the fingers opening enough to send the akumatised object tumbling down.

Mylēne herself was airborne too, body flung down and close to Stonehearts hand again, but she was moving just a little too far away to be caught again. Carapace acted, he Jumped up and over one of the minions before jumping down to the original, as he slide down his arm he threw hit shield at the Akumatised object like it was a frisbee.

He slid down the rest of Ivan's arm before stopping at the edge of his fingers, one hand holding onto the rock giant while the other grabbed Mylēnes arm to prevent her from falling down.

"Gotcha!"

Carapace's Shield flew down, it's front side faced down, halfway down it caught the solidified ball of paper and began a slow climb back up the tower as the shield attempted to return to its owner. His throw had meant it had severely overextended that, going above ladybug, where the object dropped off the shield as it flew overhead.

" Got it! " She wrapped her wire around it before tightening it as it leaned against the hard edge of her tool, the object cracked and the black and purple Akuma escaped from it.

Ladybug relaxed slightly as she saw it, finally this could be over once and for all... For now anyway.

She flicked open her yo-yo, the pure white energy on display once more, it dropped to hang limply by her side before she began to spin it violently, her eyes locked onto the butterfly before it could get away again.

"No more evil doing for you Little Aku-"

The sight of the black energy around Stoneheart caught her eyes and as snapped her attention to the dangling trio, faster then she could react Stoneheart had transformed back into Ivan, the sever size difference meant that his hand had lost grip on the tower, body now a few meters away from any and all handholds and she watched as all three of them began to fall from where they were.

In his surprise Carapace had let go of Mylēne, his slightly heavier body dragging him down faster then her, Down below the people watched and yelled as one of the hero's and the two kids fell.

Ladybug looked down to them, then back up to the Akuma as it flew away from them. She did this for another second before she took a leap off the top of her perch, her wings flapping hard to propel her downwards faster. Her hand tightened around the straps of the Parachute before she violently spun her body around and threw it towards her partner.

 "Carapace! You take care of Ivan!"

As she flew down to intercept Mylēne he caught the Parachute, eyes quickly scanning over the item as he assessed the best course of action to take, a quick glance showed that the Parachute would not support two people, as least, not at the altitude they where at.

acting quickly he grabbed a hold of Ivan's ankle, spinning the two of them around rapidly as he quickly maneuvered the Parachute to fit on Ivan's back while gaining minimal protest. Just as he was done he spun himself back around to his front so the two of them were face to face.

"Don't panic." He placed his feet to Ivan's chest just after clipping the buckle up, one hand grabbing the release handle . With a strong push he attempted to slow Ivan's decent as Much as he could while he pulled the handle so the 'Chute would open.

"Gotcha!" With one arm around Mylēne Ladybug swing back around and pulled her yo-yo to her, the Akuma now trapped within. Her eyes widened as she watched Carapace fall away from Ivan, her Lucky Charm doing it job in saving Ivan but that was NOT what she had thought he would do with it.

 as her other arm caught around Mylēne she tried to fly down just that bit faster to try to catch up to him, maybe she could grab him too, maybe she could use her Yo-yo on him again. But as she tilted to go down faster, she felt Mylēne tighten her grip on her and had to let up on it, she had to let Carapace fall on his own.

Her heart raced at the idea of something happening to him now, they had only just begun their work as heroes, she couldn't let him get hurt cause of her own mistake. Her heart yearned and preyed that he would be unharmed.

There was a moment of silence from everyone, all eyes turned to Carapace, concern fear, panic. Suddenly His Hand shot out, body twisting to catch his wayward shield as it finally came back around to its owner. With barley a few dozen metres between himself and the floor he righted himself to have his feet downwards.

 "FORTIFY ! " The pale green energy surrounded him as he fell, glowing visibly for people to see. His legs bent just before he hit the ground, a loud klang echoed around the area as his shield hit the concrete.

Everyone watched, concern and curiosity hitting everyone as they watched the still hero.

Carapace breathed hard as his heart hammered in his chest, blood rushed through his ears and he heard nothing but his own breathing, he was in a kneeling position, his right leg was bend back, knee on the ground, his left leg was bend up, foot planted firmly. His head was bowed as he looked to the floor as his shoulders raised and lowered with each breath.

With a small groan he slowly stood up, head raising to look at the spectators, his shield raised off the ground to show the cracks that had been left behind by the impact. Slowly he raised his shield before attaching it to his back as Ladybug landed beside him, Mylēne in her arms.

As she let her down to the floor he turned around to catch a hold of Ivan, helping him settle his feet before taking the parachute off him As he supported the bigger boy.

Silently Ladybug took the item from his hand, before looking at it with a look of contemplation before she bent her knees and threw it up.

 "MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!"

He watched as the item glowed before exploding into hundreds of red ladybugs that swarmed all over Paris, restoring the damage that had been caused by Both of Ivan's akumatizations.

The crumbled building was restored, the bent frames of the tower where undone and lastly, the cracks beneath his feet where repaired.

 "Whoa... thats..."

 " Miraculous. "

The two Hero's looked to each other, small smiles on their faces and Ladybug had to fight the urge to look embarresed, there was something about Carapace's impressed look that sent a shiver down her spine.

 "Pound it!" As there fists collided Carapace's bracelet let out another ring, warning him of his impending de-transformation.

" I'll see you next time bug, you two stay safe too. " He nodded to Mylēne and Ivan before taking off away from the scene.

-

The sound of the increasing downpour hit the boys ears, besides Nino, Adrien fidgeted with the strap of his bag as he looked over to the Blue haired girl.

Paranoia was apparent on his features and Nino thought his new friend would pass out and have a headache if he was left to think. "Just go talk to her dude, she's not going to bite you. "

"I...uhh.... What do I say though? I don't want to make things worse."

Nino sling his arm over Adrien's shoulders, squeezing him a little. " Just be yourself, explain what happened and most importantly, be truthful and open. Nette will come around. "

"I... Ok."

Nino leaned against the wall as he watched the blonde boy approach Marinette. Content to let things transpire naturally and without interference from his part.

"It was nice of you to help him out." Nino looked down to see Wayzz peaking out of his jacket. He rubbed the little Kwami's head with his finger, sort of petting him in a weird way.

"Of course, it's the least I could do after not speaking up earlier, besides Mari's the forgiving type. She's never held a real grudge for long."

" such a kind heart, it's no wonder you like her. " Nino sputtered slightly as he tried to find some counter but came up blank before he signed in defeat.

"Yeah, I know. Shame she doesn't see me as anything other then a friend though."

" who knows, maybe on day things will change. "

"Perhaps dude." Nino walked forwards as Adrien walked away from Marinette, leaving her with his umbrella.

it seemed all went well if the gentle look on her face was any indication, he bumped shoulders with her as he came up to her, gaining her attention.

"So, everything good now?"

" Yeah... I messed up earlier. " Nino leaned against her shoulder as he scooted under the umbrella with her.

"Didn't we both. Now what say I walk home with you so you don't slip?"

Marinette giggled at him before poking his chest. " You just want an excuse to get free treats. "

"Well... Yeah, no need to call me out like that."

The two of them laughed their way to Marinette's house, both none the wiser to the elderly man who watched from down the road. His own umbrella shielding him and the black cat Kwami.

"Alright, I'll admit, you choose well. Now can we get out of the rain? I don't like getting wet. "

Fu chuckled before he turned away from the duo, he knew the miraculous would be in good hands now.