#because genuinely this is unimpressive and amusing to me. at first i literally thought you weren't being srs rn

[hazmatazz]

‼️ mileven endgame ‼️ lets boys be friends without romanticising their friendship ‼️ banish byler truthers ‼️ mike is straight and in love with his true love el ‼️

"without romanticising their friendship" will is literally in love with mike in the show. like. that wasn't something we did that was literally in the show. their friendship is literally romanticized in the show

[iam93percentstardust]

I'm bombarding you with those prompts, so I fully understand if you just ignore all those you don't like, lol. Would WinterIronFalcon be an OT3 you're intrested in writing? Some established WinterFalcon with Tony pining helplessly after them, not believeing he could have a chance? With a dash of angst in it? Thank you ♡

There isn’t much angst in this but there is hopeless pining so yay?

Also on ao3 here

~

“Share Bear, it’s not fair,” Tony whines into the phone.

“What isn’t?” his cousin asks, sounding patient but also kind of amused. He takes the phone away from his ear and squints at it. Is she making fun of him? She probably is, Sharon always makes fun of him. She’s mean like that; he’s pretty sure she gets it from Natasha.

“They’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t stand it.”

“Oh. Them again. Seriously Tony, didn’t you used to have better taste?”

“Excuse you,” he says, offended. “My taste is perfect.”

“They think arguing is foreplay.”

“It’s bickering! And it’s cute!”

“Gross,” Sharon says cheerfully.

“God hates me,” Tony says dramatically, flinging his hand over his eyes. “That’s why he cursed me to work with two such beautiful humans who are already dating each other.”

“Tony—”

“I know Bucky stays up to date with the fandom,” he continues, going a little quieter. “He’s gotta know that tons of people ship the three of us. But he doesn’t say anything about it. Share Bear, why doesn’t he say anything?”

“Probably because for every person who ships all three of you, there’s twice as many who ship just you and him,” she admits. “I know that if someone were shipping Maria and Nat and ignoring that I even exist, I’d be pretty upset.”

“Yeah,” he says glumly.

“What’re you filming today anyway?” she asks.

“True Crime. We were supposed to be doing an episode of Supernatural at the Odinson Mystery House, you know, over in Norway where the son found out he was adopted and then got super into Norse mythology and supposedly disappeared into a rainbow?”

“Oh yeah, that guy was crazy.”

“Wasn’t,” Tony insist stubbornly. “There are three different eyewitnesses and they all saw the same thing.”

“All three eyewitnesses tested positive for meth.”

“It was trace amounts and ruled irrelevant to the case. Anyway, there’s some sort of blizzard so our flight got canceled. We figured we’d get a jump on this season’s True Crime episodes instead.”

“What are you doing this week?”

He scowls into the phone. “Fandom episode. They voted for Captain America.”

He can practically hear Sharon wince. “I’m sorry. That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not least because both of them know exactly what happened to Captain America. He was recovered from the Arctic back in the 50s and went on to live a very happy and fulfilling life with Aunt Peggy. But that’s a very closely guarded state secret; the U.S. government can’t let it get out that Steve Rogers survived nearly a decade in the ice. Technically, Tony and Sharon aren’t even supposed to know but Aunt Peggy had insisted she be allowed to tell them after she took custody of Sharon and Tony moved out of Howard’s and into her home. It’s kind of cool actually, knowing that Uncle Steve is really Captain America. He’s a pretty great guy. It just kind of sucks that he can’t tell anyone about it and now he has to do a whole episode about it when everyone knows he’s a shitty liar.

He’d talked it over with Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy when the results of the vote had first come in. Aunt Peggy’s advice had been to act more manic than usual, throw even more outlandish theories into the mix, and really make this episode about the banter between him and Bucky. “Direct their attention away from Steve,” she’d said. “They’re already going to be looking at you. Just make sure they’re doing it for the wrong reason.”

He kind of wants to kiss Bucky. That would definitely draw attention away from the episode. But that’s not fair to either Bucky or Sam, who are very happy with their relationship and don’t need a homewrecker like Tony throwing a spanner into the mix.

“Good luck,” Sharon tells him before they hang up. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Wow, thanks,” he mutters but she’s already gone.

~

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty webseries about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

Now they have a fandom and merchandise and actual fanfiction written about them, which is the craziest thing. They both have several often-quoted gifs floating around the Internet and Bucky has somehow become the poster child for being unimpressed by literally everything (he actually makes some of the best faces when something genuinely scary happens but they always end up editing those parts out—he has an image to maintain after all).

They brought Sam on once they started gaining in popularity. Tony, by that point, already had a pretty well-established crush on Bucky. He’d even thought that he had a chance with his co-host, small as it may be, and at first, it hadn’t seemed like Sam was going to change anything. He and Bucky argued all the time so Tony had been absolutely stunned when he’d stumbled upon them making out like it was the end of the world.

They had just finished filming their second season. Sam had suggested going out to a local bar. He’d suggested it for all three of them but Tony had, inexplicably, felt like a third wheel all night as Sam and Bucky bickered. At one point, Sam had disappeared off to the restroom and a couple minutes later, Bucky had followed him. Tony doesn’t know how long he had sat there waiting for them but he’d eventually gone looking for them only to find Sam pressing Bucky up against a wall.

And that had been that.

Three years later, Sam and Bucky are still going strong, Tony is as smitten with Sam as he is with Bucky despite knowing how hopeless both crushes are, and the fandom seems convinced to either write Sam out of Tony and Bucky’s relationship or write Tony into Sam and Bucky’s. He wishes they would stop. He stays pretty up to date with the fandom as well and they have all these meta posts about the way Bucky looks at him or something. It just keeps giving him hope but, well, it’s been three years. If Bucky wanted him, or if Sam did for that matter, they would have done something long ago.

~

“Hey, you doing okay?” Sam asks him as they’re setting up.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” He avoids meeting Sam’s eyes, focusing instead on adding creamer to the coffee. Marvels had presented them with these mugs last year to congratulate them on four years of Unsolved. They’ve got their most iconic quotes printed on them, Bucky’s with “Obviously I killed JFK” and Tony’s with “I’m the dramatic bitch your mom warned you about.” Sam has one too with his one and only line in the entire show printed on it (“Why did I agree to work with you?”) but since he’s always behind the camera, he doesn’t have to use the same mug for each episode.

“You just seem a little off.” The worst part is that Sam genuinely looks concerned. If they didn’t care about him, he thinks his crush might be easier to manage but they do because they’re just nice guys like that. “I know you weren’t too thrilled when we announced this week’s case.”

“Howard worked with him, practically hero-worshipped the damn guy. Of course, I’m not excited.”

Sam winces. They know all about Tony’s shitty relationship with Howard after his dad called Marvels furious that his son was hosting a webseries instead of coming home to grovel at his feet and take over the business. The whole team had been brought in to listen as Fury tried to placate him. By the end, Bucky had been furious on Tony’s behalf and Sam had berated Fury for twenty minutes for making Tony listen to the vitriol his dad had spewed. It had cemented his crush on Sam, then just a passing fancy, into something real and permanent.

“Seriously, Sam, I’m fine. Might be a little off today but I would have said if I didn’t think I could do it.”

Sam doesn’t look convinced but he agrees anyway. Tony sits down next to Bucky and passes him his mug. Bucky shoots him a grin and murmurs, “Thanks, doll.”

Tony doesn’t blush but that’s only because he has five years of practice. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Sam counting them down and he turns to face the camera, settling his hands in front of him.

“This week on Marvels Unsolved True Crime and in celebration of our 100th episode,” he begins, “we asked you what you’d like us to investigate and you came back—”

“—overwhelmingly,” Bucky interjects.

“Many, many times,” Tony agrees, “with a topic near and dear to my own heart: Captain America.”

“That’s right,” Bucky says, sounding surprised though Bucky had been the first to point out that maybe they shouldn’t do this episode because of Tony’s connections to Project Rebirth. “Your dad helped turn Steve Rogers into Captain America, didn’t he?”

“And he never let me forget it!” Tony says cheerfully.

“One hundred episodes,” Bucky says slowly, enunciating each word. “Can you believe that, doll?”

Sometimes, he wonders why the fans ship them when Sam is right there. Other times, Bucky says things like this and he understands completely.

“Not even a little bit, Bucky Babe.” Okay, so maybe he doesn’t help.

“One hundred. The big one zero zero.”

“We tried to do something extra special and get Sam in front of the camera for you guys—”

“—so you could see what a hunk he is—”

“—but Sam said that he didn’t trust anyone else to film us properly—”

“—which makes sense because Tony? If you put him in the wrong light, he’s practically a gremlin—”

“Hey!”

“I’m just telling the facts.”

“Well, the facts are wrong.”

“They’re facts, sweet thing, they can’t be wrong.”

“Can too. Anyway, since Sam refuses to join us—”

“—and that just breaks my heart because Sam, he’s one of my favorite guys, you know?”

Tony pauses. It’s not like Bucky to say anything nice about Sam. Usually, it’s all good-natured insults and bickering. He must really be fed up with the Starkbucks shippers to say something like this when they’re still this early in the show.

“Only one of?” he asks curiously.

Bucky shoots him one of those filthy grins that their audience loves so much. “Well, it’s hard not to include you on that list,” he drawls.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to—

Damn it.

Whatever. It’s no big deal, that’s what editing is for. So what if Sam has never edited out one of Tony’s blushes yet? Maybe Tony will get lucky and he will this time.

“You know, I was actually named for Captain America’s sidekick?” Bucky asks, getting them back on track.

“Wow, that is deeply unfortunate,” Tony deadpans.

“Yeah, Dad’s a fanboy. His whole troop was pinned down and rescued by the two of them. He tells the story all the time—kind of like your dad.”

“Except my dad goes straight past into fanboy and directly into obsession territory.”

“…Fair enough.”

“Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Bucky shrugs and takes a sip out of his mug. “I’ve been inside your house. I’ve seen the Steve Rogers shrine. I’m not going to argue with you.”

Tony thinks about that for a moment. “It is kind of a shrine, isn’t it? Anyway, we’ve got some great stuff for you today. We’re going to crack open this cold case, show you some never-before-seen footage courtesy of my mom sneaking my dad’s old war tapes out of the mansion, and then we’ll talk a little bit about the theories out there.”

“How many of them are going to be ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible?”

Tony glares at him. “None of them. I have never once presented a ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible theory.”

“Right because alien abduction is a valid—”

“Aliens are real!”

“You said that crabs might have eaten Amelia Earheart!” Bucky shouts over him.

“It’s a valid theory!”

“I take it back, you’re not one of my favorite people anymore.”

“That really hurts me, deep inside,” Tony says sarcastically, trying to cover up that maybe that does send a small pang shooting through his chest. He likes the thought of being one of Bucky’s favorite people. He doesn’t want to lose that.

“How deep?” Bucky asks and winks.

“Very deep. Way, way deep down. Practically in my—”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his coffee. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Let’s get into the facts.”

“Hey, that’s my line!”

~

“With a missing plane and pilot and so much redaction in the files, we’re lucky to even have a name, let’s get into the theories.”

“Actually, wait, before we do that,” Bucky says, “I want to ask if you’ve ever noticed that your voice changes when you’re doing the voiceovers.”

“Wait, what?” Tony asks. He glances at him, to one of the cameras, then back to Bucky. “What do you mean?”

“You know, it gets all deeper like you’re trying to voice movie trailers or something.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Sure it does.”

Tony shakes his head. “There’s no way.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Told you!” Bucky says triumphantly.

“You’re such a child,” Tony sneers.

“Yeah, that’s why you like working with me so much.”

Behind the camera, Sam silently snickers and Tony glares at him before telling the camera, “If you’re watching, let us know in the comments. Is my apparent movie trailer voice okay or does it need to go like Bucky clearly thinks?”

Bucky goes paler. “Hey, wait, I didn’t say it had to go.”

“It was implied when you brought it up,” he argues.

“No!” Bucky insists. “I was just wondering if it was on purpose.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Aha!” Tony says triumphantly.

“Traitor,” Bucky mutters into his coffee.

Sam signs, “I’ll make it up to you when we get home tonight.”

“And that was more than I ever wanted to learn about Sam and Bucky’s love life,” Tony lies through his teeth. “Let’s get into the theories. I only have two for you today, one of which I think Bucky will particularly like.”

“Oh no.”

“Our first theory is that Steve Rogers died in a plane crash on December 16, 1944. Winter months in the Arctic are known to be particularly stormy. There would have been low visibility due to the high latitude and time of year and with the waters and surrounding land being well below freezing, it’s possible that, even if Captain Rogers survived the impact, he would have frozen to death in the stormy seas.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, that seems plausible.”

“In addition, Howard Stark, a known Captain America aficionado and the father of Marvels Unsolved’s best host—”

“You lie like a rug!” Bucky howls.

Tony snickers and then when Sam signs, “He’s really not,” bursts out into full-out laughter.

Once he’s recovered, he continues, “Howard Stark has spent the first fifty years after the crash of the Valkyrie and the last twenty funding searches in the Arctic in the hopes of recovering Captain Rogers’ body. He has found no evidence that Captain Rogers survived the crash although he did find part of the remains of the Valkyrie and has since stated that, ‘No human could have survived that crash.’”

The expeditions are a scam and have been since Howard first found the Valkyrie crash site and Uncle Steve along with it. He hadn’t been planning on continuing the expeditions—too costly, as he claims—but when Aunt Peggy had told him that Uncle Steve’s survival had to remain a secret, he’d kept them up for pretense’s sake.

Bucky is saying something about how it sucks that the first superhero is gone and when he finishes, Tony grins and says, “Then you’ll like our second theory.”

“Somehow, every time you say that, I end up completely hating it. Wonder why that is.”

“Our second theory is that Steve Rogers survived the crash and is still alive but cryogenically frozen in the ice. There—”

“Bullshit!”

Tony starts laughing but he tries to continue on over Bucky shouting that it’s complete nonsense. It’s hard and he knows that Sam will probably have to do some editing and maybe make Tony do some voiceover work in order to make the theory audible but he thinks he manages to do a pretty good job.

Bucky is pouting by the end of it, arms crossed over his chest. “What fucking bullshit,” he mutters.

“The supersoldier serum—” Tony starts to point out.

“Isn’t a miracle drug.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“No, it just made him big and strong. It doesn’t just magically keep people alive when they should have died.”

And then they’re off into familiar territory, arguing about the merits of either theory. Tony’s actually feeling pretty good about himself, convinced that he’s doing a decent job of steering the conversation away of anything classified, right up until Bucky says, about halfway through the episode, “I’m surprised at you, Tony.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Surprised?”

“Usually, you have some absolutely batshit, off-the-walls crazy theory but these have actually been pretty normal for you.” He pauses and then adds for effect, “And you’re usually much better at your research than this.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, even I know that there’s one more theory.”

He starts tapping at his chest nervously, almost wishing that he had a pair of sunglasses. Aunt Peggy always said that his lies are in his eyes, that they’re too expressive to hide the truth. When he was living with Howard, in the spotlight, he always had a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes but he hasn’t wanted to use those since he moved out. He wishes he had them now.

“And what’s that?” he asks, feigning a casualness he doesn’t feel.

“That Steve Rogers lived and came out of the ice at some point and has been living out his life in anonymity.”

He barks out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mention it because even I know that that theory is completely impossible.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” Sam nods agreeably. Bucky nods back at him and adds, “Even Sam agrees with me.”

“He’s your boyfriend, he’s practically required to.”

Both Sam and Bucky laugh at that one and yeah, okay, it was a pretty ridiculous statement. Anyone who knows them knows that being boyfriends is less likely to make them agree with each other.

“Look, Steve Rogers didn’t come out of the ice alive. Howard would have known for one thing and if you think, he could keep something like that quiet, then you don’t know him very well.”

“Maybe the government insisted it be a secret,” Bucky suggests, shrugging. “There have been plenty of people who have claimed over the last couple decades to be Captain America.”

Tony scoffs. “Oh come on, by that logic, anyone could be Captain America.”

“Maybe they could be.”

“No,” Tony says flatly. “It’s like that crazy conspiracy theory guy over on Reddit who’s convinced that Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Maybe Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Ooh do the butts match?” Tony says mockingly. “I mean, really, Bucky Babe, if we’re going off of lookalikes, then my fucking Uncle Steve is secretly really Steve Rogers, which is ridiculous because the guy’s like practically ancient and faints at the sight of blood in PG-13 movies.”

That sets off another round of arguing that lasts the rest of the episode until finally Tony wraps it up with, “Whether Steve Rogers died in 1944 or is still alive today is a mystery that will remain unsolved.”

They both pause for a moment to provide time for Sam to edit in the theme music and closing title. Usually, there would be some lighthearted bantering afterwards, maybe a joke about something they said earlier in the show. This time though, Bucky says thoughtfully, “The thing is, though, I’ve met your Uncle Steve—”

Tony goes cold.

“—and he really does kind of look like—”

Tony panics. That’s the only explanation that he has for declaring, “I’m done waiting,” reaching across the tables and grabbing hold of Bucky’s shirt, and yanking him forward to kiss him.

For a moment, Bucky is too startled to do anything but then he melts into Tony, mouth opening under his, tongue pushing forward to meet his. Bucky’s arms come around him, pulling him up and out of his chair and settling him into his lap. Tony makes a small greedy sound, swallowed by Bucky’s kiss, and then they’re both pulling away. Bucky’s lips are very red; Tony can’t stop staring at them even as he’s filled with dismay.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Why not?” Bucky demands.

“You—Sam—” He glances toward the camera but Sam isn’t standing there anymore. His heart drops into his stomach—has he just ruined Bucky and Sam’s relationship? But then he hears someone drop to their knees behind him and when he turns slightly, Sam’s fingers are on his chin, gently turning his head.

“How long?” Sam asks.

“How long what?”

“How long have we been wasting our time when we could have been kissing you instead?”

Three years, two months, and fifteen days. “Too long.”

Sam kisses him then, mouth gentler than Bucky’s but no less consuming. Bucky is a hard, hot line against his front; Sam is warm against his back and Tony? Tony loses himself in the storm that is the two of them, sparks shooting through him as Bucky’s hands find their way to his hips, as Sam’s tongue slips into his mouth, as Bucky whispers into his ear, “We’re not wasting any more time.”

~

Marvels Unsolved’s 100th episode shoots to their most watched, most liked video in less than a day and when asked, maybe the smallest handful of viewers could have said what it was about.

The day after it posts, only a week after it was filmed, Tony’s phone rings.

“Kill it with fire,” Sam says sleepily.

Tony, however, recognizes Aunt Peggy’s ringtone and he rolls over to grab it before Bucky can throw it at the wall. “Hello?” he asks groggily.

“Congratulations on not blowing Steve’s cover,” she says.

“Oh yeah,” Tony mutters. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“One more thing, duck.”

“What’s that?”

“Congratulations on the new boyfriends.”

[cheshiresense]

For the headcanon thing if I'm not too late. Headcanons for FemIchigo/Kisuke ship?

Lol you didn’t give me an AU? Guess I could throw them in the canon verse but the events wouldn’t be much dif imo. But let’s see how this goes.

Edit: Welp. This got long.

1. Ichigo keeps her hair long because of her mom. Masaki had long hair, and even if it’s not the exact same colour, Ichigo grows her own hair out in her honour, as a reminder of the one time she failed to protect her precious people and just because she’s never met anyone with hair as pretty as her mom’s.

The first time she gets into a serious fight with Shinigami, that dick Renji uses it against her. He grabs her hair, and taunts her with it, and in the end, she kicks his ass, but then his dick boss shows up and just about kills her. When she wakes up at the Shouten, she’s half-naked, wrapped in bandages, and her hair’s been sliced ragged, left in uneven strands around her shoulders where before it had reached her waist. Urahara is nice enough to cut and style it for her. He tells her he only knows how to cut it one way because a good friend of his used to wear her hair short. It’s cute enough, and at the end of the day, Ichigo would much rather keep her life than her hair, but she also locks herself in the bathroom later that night and has a good cry about it. It’s stupid, it’s just hair, it’ll grow back, but it still feels a little like losing her mother all over again. She gives herself twenty minutes, and then she gets her shit together because she has to go save Rukia, and Urahara promised to make her strong enough so she needs to get some sleep more than anything else right now. When she gets back to her room though, the rest of the Shouten is still silent but there’s a tray of tea by her futon, still hot, and too sweet to have been made by Tessai. Ichigo doesn’t even like tea, but it’s a surprisingly kind, amusingly awkward gesture from a man who knows too much and tells her too little. She drinks it all, making a face at the taste but appreciating the warmth that spreads all the way to her fingertips, and when she lies back down and closes her eyes, sleep comes easier this time.

2. Kisuke’s the one who carries her back to the Shouten after she defeats Aizen and subsequently collapses in the aftermath. He thinks it would’ve been easier if she’d been born a boy. She’s tall for her age and gender, but she feels more fragile like this, her shoulders narrower than her usual larger-than-life personality would suggest, her frame less sturdy. Even her bones feel more delicate. Then again, she’s still only sixteen and she’s already lost half her soul in a war she should never have had to fight in the first place, and a good chunk of that blame can be laid squarely at Kisuke’s feet, so maybe boy or girl, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. She’s light enough that Kisuke can carry her without difficulty, but her weight still feels like shackles around his wrists, tied to an anchor at the bottom of the ocean, like the worst of his sins given life, and Kisuke hadn’t ever thought that would be something he’d have trouble bearing until now. But the least he can do is carry her home, so that’s what he does. He takes her back to the Shouten and cleans her up and heals her– it’s a routine he’s uncomfortably familiar with these days. He doesn’t know if she’s ever consciously realized it, but he’s seen her naked enough times to feel like a pervert. He was Onmitsukidou, and he’s seen Yoruichi change in front of him enough times that the female body doesn’t make him blink, but Ichigo’s young - old enough to have developed curves, young enough that his hands shouldn’t be anywhere near her (figuratively or literally) - but there’s nobody else to do it, Yoruichi is always inconveniently away, so Kisuke keeps his eyes and hands well within professional range, runs a bath for her that takes care of most of the dirt and sweat and blood so he only has to make sure she doesn’t drown, and then whisks her off back to bed where he can bandage up what his Kidou can’t heal before settling down to monitor her reiatsu levels.

She remains in a coma for a month. Kisuke is the one who takes care of her, from fresh bedding to sponge baths to IV-fed fluids, even trimming her hair when it starts looking too shaggy (she’s growing it out again, so he doesn’t cut more than what he has to). By the time she opens her eyes, Kisuke’s just relieved she wakes at all, and it doesn’t seem like she’s (physically) much worse for wear so at least his caretaking skills aren’t terrible. All the discomfort in the world can be tolerated if it means Ichigo remains as healthy as she can possibly be.

3. Ichigo doesn’t see or hear from Urahara or any other Shinigami for the next seventeen months, and she tries not to let it get to her. She still sees her human friends at school, even if she’s no longer welcome in a large part of their daily lives, and Shinigami probably don’t think a year and a half is all that long. Besides, at the end of the day, she knew most of her Shinigami acquaintances for a handful of months tops; that’s hardly grounds for eternal friendship. She’s hurt by their absence, but she keeps herself busy with school, with homework, with the part-time job she finds just to fill the hours in-between. She gets good at ignoring the fact that she knows where her friends go after school, knows where her sisters go, and that she can no longer follow them. Urahara doesn’t wear a gigai after all, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to. He probably has better things to do too now that the war is over and Ichigo has done her duty.

So it’s been seventeen months of mind-numbing (soul-wrenching) monotony, and then she gains a stalker. She would never have chased that thief down if she had known Ginjou Kuugou was so… greasy. She doesn’t just mean his hair either; everything about him oozes an oily sort of charm that sets off every alarm bell her mom drilled into her head about Stranger Danger, Female Edition, and it becomes clear very quickly that Ginjou is exactly the sort of man who just won’t take no for an answer. He follows her around, flirts like he thinks she finds him attractive, keeps inviting her out for a meal, even tracks her down at work, and Ichigo’s just about had it with him after he “bumps” into her while she’s walking home from doing the grocery-shopping, because she may not be a Shinigami anymore but she sure as hell still knows how to defend herself and kick a creep in the balls when he dares to sling a too-proprietary arm around her waist, as if he has any right.

As it turns out though, she doesn’t have to. Ginjou gets about half a second to touch her, still blathering on about having something interesting to show her if she lets him treat her to some ramen, and then he’s being ripped away from her, abruptly enough to tear a shout from him, and Ichigo spins around just in time to see Urahara twist Ginjou’s arm behind him at a painful-looking angle before slamming him face-first into a nearby wall.

Ichigo doesn’t think she’s ever seen Urahara so… openly violent before. She can’t stop staring for a long moment, because that casual, effortless strength is… not something Ichigo would mind seeing again. If nothing else, it’s clearly effective (and pointedly ignores the voice that says she isn’t staring because it’s effective). The look on his face though is positively serene, if you don’t count the ominous shadow that his hat is somehow casting over his eyes.

“I do believe Kurosaki-san has asked you to stop harassing her,” the shopkeeper says in tones so airily cheerful only an idiot would buy the act. Ginjou doesn’t reply anyway. He can’t. Urahara’s yanked his arm up high enough to let him simultaneously choke the life out of the guy, his hand about as movable as stone as it pins Ginjou’s wrist to the back of his neck and his neck to the brick wall.

“Hey,” Ichigo says, and then stops, because on one hand, this guy probably doesn’t deserve to be straight-up murdered, but also if anyone in Ichigo’s life can kill a human and make the corpse disappear, it would be Urahara.

But Urahara glances at her, then shrugs a little and releases Ginjou, only to knock him over the head with his cane, hard enough to send him crumpling to the ground in an unconscious heap. There’s a moment of silence after that, and then Ichigo remembers to be irritated because she’s no one’s damsel in distress. “I could’ve handled him, you know.”

It comes out sharper than even she intends, but the sight of him reminds her of how long she hasn’t seen him or any of her other Shinigami friends, and it’s hard to remain mature about it when one of them is suddenly right in front of her again. Urahara, because he’s Urahara, just rakes a too-discerning eye over her like he can see right through her annoyance to the root of it. His expression tightens with something Ichigo can’t name, but all he does is incline his head in acknowledgement even as he smiles in a way that makes her want to punch him. “Of course, Kurosaki-san, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t interfere?”

Ichigo gives him the flat unimpressed look that deserves, Urahara’s smile twitches into something more genuinely amused, and for a second, it almost feels as if no time at all has passed since the last time they’d shared an actual conversation. Then Ginjou groans, Ichigo bristles irritably, and Urahara’s smile fades.

“Kurosaki-san,” He calls out before Ichigo can do more than turn away. “There are some things you need to know. But perhaps we can take this off the streets first? Come back to my Shouten; I will explain everything there.”

Ichigo turns back, scowling suspiciously at the blond, then down at greasy stalker. Great. She should’ve known; of course it would be Shinigami business that actually dragged Urahara out of his shop and into his first interaction with Ichigo after seventeen months of radio silence. But… if Urahara is willing to explain just what greasy stalker wanted to drag her into, Ichigo would be an idiot to turn him down.

“Fine,” She grumbles. “I’m using your fridge though. I’ve got ice-cream in here and it’s gonna melt before I get home at this rate.”

Urahara beams at her and hefts greasy stalker over his shoulder before ushering her to the Shouten. True to his word, he tells her about the Fullbringers who’ve invaded Karakura, and he tells her that the Shinigami have been monitoring the situation, and then he tells her he has a way to return her powers and soul-spirits to her. He shows her the sword, engraved with a bunch of intricate symbols she can’t even begin to decipher, and it thrums with so much power even she can feel it. She has a sudden epiphany that it must’ve taken even a genius like Urahara quite a while to make something like this, because she’d asked around, before she’d lost the ability to see Shinigami, and she knows for a fact that fixing her soul should’ve been impossible. The realization that Urahara must’ve been working on this for the past seventeen months goes a long way to soothing any fair or unfair feelings she had towards him, even if she also thinks he could’ve just told her. But she thinks that, and then she thinks that Urahara probably didn’t because he hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up for nothing. It’s stupid, but so is the way he eases the sword through her chest as gently as possible, as if it makes a difference at all when that first jolt of foreign reiatsu to her system still hurts like a bitch. She thinks she can forgive stupidity though if it’s coming from him. Not that she’ll ever tell him that.

In the aftermath, the Fullbringers disappear one by one, and nobody says anything but an increasingly manically cheerful Urahara gets a lot of wary side-eyes from the Shinigami trooping through Karakura over the next couple of weeks. It’s Rukia (Rukia who never so much as passed on a how-are-you, and Ichigo doesn’t blame her, but she’s never going to forget it either) who tells her later about Urahara kneeling in front of all the Gotei’s captains and lieutenants and begging them to help, who bowed his head through the Captain-Commander’s orders to keep the sword back until a powerless Ichigo has drawn out all the Fullbringers, only to immediately disobey as soon as he got the reiatsu he needed from them.

Ichigo asks, of course, just once, why. True to form, Urahara doesn’t give her a straight answer, he shrugs and lies instead, “Well it isn’t as if there’s anything else they can do to little old me in exile, is there?” But for just a moment, he also looks directly at Ichigo, his gaze steady and calm and unyielding, like there was never anything else he could’ve done, like choosing Ichigo over the Gotei was a decision made as easily as he breathed.

Much, much later, looking back, Ichigo thinks maybe that was the moment she first fell just a little bit in love.

4. Somewhere between the Quincy War and Yoruichi and Tessai moving back to Soul Society and the kids deciding they want to experience high school and normal life at the Kurosaki household, Kisuke wakes up one morning to Ichigo cooking breakfast in his kitchen and realizes he’s sharing a house with a twenty-year-old college student whose Gargantas make for the easiest commute to and from school in the history of public transportation. He stands in the doorway for a long minute, just watching her go through the motions that have become routine at the Shouten for… months now. Ever since he survived the war by the skin of his teeth and ended up half-blind because Benihime is only a quick, crude fix when Kisuke doesn’t know the exact makeup of whatever he’s restructuring. He’d had to study that, and then get some hands-on practice, before finally re-restructuring his eyes one more time. Ichigo had been a big help. Kisuke had had difficulties reading, along with dizzy spells and crippling headaches, so even though she didn’t understand everything, she also spent long hours with him, reading out loud and taking down notes for him, cooking for him and keeping his house clean and even manning the shopfront for him when Tessai was busy with the Kidou Corps. And then, once he was better… well, apparently she’d just never moved back out, and Kisuke had liked the company (has always liked her company) that he’d obliviously taken her presence here for granted.

She turns around now, probably sensing him. Her hair’s almost as long as it used to be back when they’d first met, but she’s tied it up into a messy bun. She’s still in pajama pants and one of his shirts because she likes the larger size and she keeps stealing them and Kisuke doesn’t mind, he has more than enough.

Maybe he should’ve minded.

“Hey,” Ichigo greets around a stifled yawn. “Food’s almost done. Could you set the table?”

Kisuke makes an agreeable noise and starts pulling down tableware from the cupboards. The coffee’s also done so he pours a mug, and then prepares the tea with the water that’s just finished boiling. Five minutes later, they’re seated around the table, Ichigo grumbling memorized literature quotes into her coffee because she has finals next week, and Kisuke just… watches her. They’ve thrown the porch doors open because it’s summer and the morning breeze is nice. Ichigo has her back to it, and the sunrise that frames her head like a halo gilds her bright hair gold. When she finally sets her coffee down, she looks up and catches his eye, and even as her eyebrows go up in an unspoken question, the smile that blooms across her face at the same time is as much a reflex as it is genuine, like the mere sight of him is something to be happy about, and Kisuke is helpless to do anything but smile back.

Shit, he thinks, far too late. I’m definitely going to hell.

5. “I’m definitely going to hell,” he moans into the table. Yoruichi, because she is first and foremost a terrible best friend, is too busy laughing at him to console him. At least she came prepared with the sake when he called her in a panic once Ichigo had left for class.

“Took you long enough,” Yoruichi chortles, like this isn’t a Big Problem. “Tessai thought for sure you’d realize she’s practically your wife-” Kisuke winces. “-when she went off to college and still went back to the Shouten every night. But I’ve known you longer so I figured it would take you a while before it clicked.”

“We are roommates,” He hisses vehemently, downing another cup of alcohol before pouring himself some more. “I’ve never- Yoruichi-san, I would never- I wouldn’t-”

“Well that was obvious too,” Yoruichi snorts, but her gold eyes are suddenly a lot less amused a lot more focused, acute and unblinking on his face. “But you know, if she’s old enough to kill for you, then she’s old enough to fuck.”

Kisuke freezes, and then straightens, and he has never looked at Yoruichi the way he does now, but there’s ice in his veins and a knot of flash-fire rage and black-fanged guilt clawing up his gut, and he couldn’t stop the crass words if he wanted to, “She was old enough to kill for me at fifteen; was she old enough to fuck then too?”

Yoruichi doesn’t even flinch, just pins him with a burning look sharp enough to cut. “Well you didn’t wanna fuck her then, did you? But she’s an adult now, and she can make her own choices, and I know you suck at human-ing so I’m gonna go ahead and give you a piece of advice in advance and hopefully save everyone a lot of needless drama - in general, people don’t like it when you make decisions for them because you think you know better. So before you panic even more and start pushing her away ‘for her own good’ but really actually because you freaked out about having feelings, maybe, just maybe, ask her what she wants.” She grins like a tiger that has its prey cornered. “Ichigo’s not stupid. Even I don’t know if she knows about your gigantic crush yet, she’s surprisingly closed off about personal issues, but let me just remind you, Kisuke - she didn’t sit at my bedside, or Shinji’s, or even Rukia’s, after the war, and you know full we were all laid out for days, if not from injuries then exhaustion.” She leans forward and snags the front of his Shihakushou to give him a hard shake. “Are you listening to me, Kisuke? She cares about you, and you care about her, and I have not seen you this happy in a very, very long time.” She glares at him, daring him to argue. “Even if nothing comes from this, even if you just stay friends, don’t you dare fuck this up for yourself. You’ve got a good thing here. She’s good for you, and she makes you happy. And it’s not a crime to be happy, Kisuke.”

She lets him go. Kisuke doesn’t move for a long minute, and this time, Yoruichi waits him out. “…What if I’m not good for her though?”

Yoruichi clicks her tongue and reaches for her own sake again, limbs going feline-languid once more. “That’s for her to decide. She’s got a decent head on her shoulders, Kisuke; if you really were poison for her like you seem to think you are every damn turn of the moon, she would’ve dropped you a long time ago.” She pauses to take a swig, and then she kicks him under the table hard enough to make him yelp. “Now quit being a coward, drink your damn sake, and then go home and be disgustingly domestic with your roommate when she gets back. And if after all this crap you put me through, you still end up hurting her, I’m gonna tell Kuukaku, and she’ll make you wish you were just dead.”

Kisuke thinks about that for a moment, remembers some of the antics Kuukaku used to get up to with Yoruichi, and internally cringes. “Right,” he sighs. Yoruichi rolls her eyes at him, and he sighs again. Well, he supposes he should’ve known better than to get any sympathy from Yoruichi. He also mulls over what she’s said though, and… well. If nothing else, Ichigo’s choices are her own. Kisuke’s manipulated her into a war once already. He can’t - he won’t - do it to her again, for anything.

He downs the last of his alcohol and this time dares to hope.

6. They never actually sit down and lay all their cards on the table and talk about it. It’s not in either of their natures; Ichigo prefers actions, and ninety percent of Kisuke’s words have always been used to deflect and manipulate. But, for Ichigo, the Shouten becomes home. She never moves out (and yes, she knew what she was doing when she packed up most of her belongings and carted them over to the shop), and at first, it was just to help because Kisuke was so badly injured from the war, but the longer she stayed, the harder it was to think about leaving again for good. When Kisuke hadn’t said anything even after he’d fully recovered, she took it as permission to stay, and of course that didn’t do anything to make her like him less. She enjoys his company, likes reading in his labs while he fiddles with his experiments, likes surprising him with new recipes, likes being surprised when he modifies or creates yet another Kidou spell for her monstrous levels of reiatsu so that it won’t blow up when she tries it. She likes that he always tucks her into bed if she falls asleep at her desk studying, and she likes that he trusts her enough to walk around without wearing his hat all the time. She likes that between her strength and adaptability and his creativity and cunning, they’re more or less evenly matched in a spar, and the harder she pushes him, the more thrilled he gets at having to work for his victories. She likes that he comes home one day with something both new and still familiar in his eyes when he looks at her, and a month later, on her birthday, he takes her halfway across the world to a rare book convention with a focus on Shakespeare, and halfway through that, his hand swings out to tangle her fingers with his own.

They never really talk about it, but Ichigo migrates into his bedroom one night and never sleeps in her own room again. They take things slow, honestly more for Kisuke’s benefit than her own, but she doesn’t mind because mostly, she just likes having Kisuke there, with her. He still treats her like glass sometimes, like something priceless he’s afraid to smudge just by touching it. Those days, Ichigo sprawls across him with all her weight and stays there until he wraps himself more firmly around her, usually dozing off while Ichigo works on a draft of her first book.

They don’t talk about it. But they don’t have to, to know what they mean to each other.

[punkscowardschampions]

Ronnie & Joe

Ronnie: [is gonna rock up late despite literally living with Charlie so enjoy the entrance everybody]

Joe: [when you weren’t invited but still gonna show up like you have somewhere better to be, love that for you, the effort we’ve not gone to because we live here so it’s kinda okay but not really Joseph, also I imagine kinda shook she ended up showing]

Ronnie: [likewise in the sense that she dresses the same everywhere she goes unless it’s a job interview or court appearance lol but we know she looks good if you’re Joseph and into it, I imagine her zoning in on Jamie immediately like who the fuck is this and then oh I’ve heard nothing about you kinda energy soz gal]

Joe: [rude but not untrue in this case, at least Charlie can make it seem like you’re joking and Joe can go get you a drink like soz this is all we have energy ‘cos in jokes]

Ronnie: [I highly doubt they have enough seats around that table so I also imagine her dragging up something to sit on like yeah I’m here to stay bitches and drinking Joe’s drink while he’s gone as a throwback to when she did when they met at that gig and cos we’re obvs claiming him LOL]

Joe: [we know the food is gonna be studenty anyway so having smaller portions won’t kill any of us lmao, just dying at how shocked Sophie is having to conceal she is, host on queen, boring boyfriend having no opinions of course]

Ronnie: [don’t worry gal depending how much of a jealous rage we get into we probably won’t be eating it so you’ll still have brownies left, her face would be iconic and I totally picture Marc on his phone the entire time because Paul used to do that when he was with Trace]

Joe: [giving nothing to this bizarre situation, too real, Charlie and Sophie holding this together, soz guys, Joe jus amused af, do we sit opposite or next to hmm]

Ronnie: [read that as soz gays, ILY mum & dad, I think he needs to sit opposite Jamie so that she can accuse them of eye fucking each other or whatever so probably next to]

Joe: [okay yes gather ‘round everyone]

Ronnie: she lives here

Joe: yeah I told you, Silent Bob’s gf

Ronnie: you said he had a bitch not shes been chained to the radiator since youse lot moved in

Joe: maybe that’s his secret

Ronnie: whens he letting you have your go

Joe: got my own radiator you can have a go on when this is over

Joe: not to brag or nothing

Ronnie: wont be over til the fat flatmate sings & the other one sucking you off while her & mariah duet and the boyfriend pretends he aint watching youse instead is fuck all to brag about

Joe: be lucky if it got close to that level of mildly interesting

Joe: where are you in all this then

Ronnie: under the sink looking for drain cleaner or whatever else i can drink

Joe: why do you get to have all the fun?

Ronnie: i dont waste my time asking bullshit questions

Joe: how are we gonna waste our time

Ronnie: im gonna kill your shared girlfriend & youre gonna cry about it

Joe: I don’t think I am

Joe: no amount of tragedy is gonna breakthrough the chemical fog

Ronnie: you would if you could

Joe: [🙄 at her]

Ronnie: [tips however much is left of her drink into his lap not at all accidentally but we know Charlie and Soph will pretend it was]

Joe: [whip them off to go get changed boy]

Ronnie: [when you wanna follow him but you just gotta glare instead]

Joe: [probably taking whatever we’ve got in to make this go easier, ‘scuse us, so much missing out]

Ronnie: [you know she turned up already on something so do what you gotta do Joseph]

Joe: [Jamie should be talking to you about uni things thus alienating everyone else a lil ‘cos that is a bit rude and will annoy you gal]

Ronnie: [fully just opening up a wound over here literally cos she was already jealous but did not realise they had this much shit in common or anything in common actually so we’re just livid and bleeding]

Joe: [Sophie just running with the kitchen roll like omg do we have bandages guys like oh babe you truly only mean well, Charlie just giving the can you not looks of it all, Joe just jealous because we’ve obviously got our long sleeves]

Ronnie: [a spoken out loud fuck you at everyone but mainly Joe as we go to the bathroom to not deal with this but instead evoke the energy of when Mae downed that mouthwash because she definitely would and also go through the cabinets for anything sharp obvs]

Joe: [at least you can go under the guise of checking on her but really you’re just seeing what she’s doing]

Ronnie: [1000% have not locked the door because we wanted him to follow us but that won’t stop her telling him to get out because walking contradiction forever]

Joe: [locks it behind him in response]

Ronnie: [the most intense glare in response because could not be more livid rn]

Joe: [grabbing wherever the wound is like we’re gonna kiss it better or something like Soph for a casual bit of blood drinking]

Ronnie: [obviously have to push him away really hard because we’re obviously really into it and excuse you boy we’re trying to be angry and hate you, soz to all the flatmates when you hear that crashing about]

Joe: [lmao this tiny bathroom getting destroyed, steady yourself and her despite that clearly not being what she wants right now, roll up a sleeve ‘you never did the X’]

Ronnie: [the glorious visual of trying to get past him to leave/push him away again at the same time in a small space so you just end up pressed up against each other and the door making eye contact and it’s hot af ‘you never took me anywhere’]

Joe: [‘so let me’ do you mean let’s get out of here or in a saucy way either or you skinny as hell girl so if you not really trying to leave it’s easy not to let you]

Ronnie: [‘she’ll let you’ because we’re not just dropping this even if we want to]

Joe: [‘who?’ like an oblivious boy ‘cos clearly not where our head is]

Ronnie: [a really vicious read of Jamie based on what we’re learned this evening that I’m not gonna do because I am not that mean but it’s obvious it’s her and not Sophie we’re talking about, hope you don’t hear us gal]

Joe: [‘I’m not interested’ in every sense right now ‘and you know that, stop pissing about’]

Ronnie: [‘wasn’t any other cunt round the table hanging on her every fucking word, I know that’ because that was blatant Jamie]

Joe: [‘I can’t help it that her fella’s an accountant’ what do you do Marc, do any of us know lol, shrugs ‘we go to the same school, that’s it’ and a look like whatever the fuck this is is clearly more]

Ronnie: [she would wanna lol but we can’t because still mad ‘that’s it?’ not actually a question though more like you better be telling the truth boy ‘why the fuck have you never told me about her then?’]

Joe: [‘I thought I had when I said he had a girlfriend’ not not a lie ‘none of them are what I want to talk about, that’s it’]

Ronnie: [‘you were thinking with this’ grabbing his dick when we say so ‘that’s it’ cos even if that was true Joseph we shade the rest of the flatmates often and you know damn well we love doing it]

Joe: [shakes head even though we are very clearly into that ‘she’s no Soph’ like it wouldn’t be as funny soz]

Ronnie: [‘is right’ like yeah I know you actually seriously wanna get with her, and moving away but not to leave but to pick back up whatever implement we were gonna hurt ourselves with before he came in but didn’t get chance to because we’re genuinely upset]

Joe: [literally putting ourselves in front of it like no ‘Ronnie’ like I don’t know how you’re going to even put it into words boy so it’s mainly a !!! look]

Ronnie: [a look that starts out like don’t try and stop me/fuck you but turns into !! when his does like say something/do something if you mean it]

Joe: [got to go in and kiss you whilst making her push whatever she was gonna use on herself into him, now or never, enjoy the tension finally getting released]

Ronnie: [obviously we’re kissing you back so we all know what’s gonna happen next lol, soz flatmates I really hope you can’t hear anything, especially Charlie cos you actually know they’re related]

Joe: [it is not a big flat so keep quiet, just think he’s comforting her for all this time or what, god bless]

Ronnie: [she would be trying to keep quiet but not for y’all more so he thinks she’s unimpressed/not that into it but that would literally last all of a second because she’s obviously very into it]

Joe: [the levels you aren’t gonna wanna go back in but can’t be seen as being romantic lads]

Ronnie: [I could easily have her leave if we want though because it’s a fact that she doesn’t wanna be here and everyone would be relieved except Joseph]

Joe: [that probably makes sense, honestly, and you’ve freaked them all out, as was the point]

Ronnie: [and lbr you’ve freaked yourselves out with how good that hook up was too so]

Joe: [just go hide in your room like you’re very taxed by that in an acceptable way boy]

Ronnie: [god knows where you’re gonna go gal but please don’t OD again like you literally did in Margate no time ago]

Joe: [the headfuckery]

Ronnie: [poor Charlie just like UMMM WTF cos she must look bad even for her rn and we’ve behaved terribly and then literally legged it so]

Joe: [thank god you’re such a natural party go-er so you can make up some excuse to put them all at relative ease but yeah, for sure like excuse me]

Ronnie: [might be fun to do a convo between them when we’re done with this one]

Joe: [I’m down even though I really haven’t used him yet, I’ll give it a go]

Ronnie: [yeah it’s been forever since we did the group chats with them and Bronson and Bea it feels like another life, I can send you the convo we did where she told him she met Joe if you like cos I re-read that the other day and it was pretty good]

Ronnie: [but the real question is who’s gonna break first and start a convo and how long are we leaving it?]

Joe: [please do ‘cos did not realize we’d done that tbh]

Joe: [I could make a case for either of them, him to prove he meant it as he left it last time but her so she can’t automatically be on the ‘it meant nothing’ total defensive hmm]

Joe: [some hours later when the party is over, or could be]

Joe: Charlie was going pub, he’s left here though

Ronnie: [even later because whatever she’s doing she’s messy and can’t reply to the extent that she doesn’t need to because he won’t be expecting her to and yet here we are]

Ronnie: did whitney ask you to pass it on to us cos hes still disappointed like

Joe: couldn’t say

Joe: just letting you know that you’ll have a free gaff for a while longer

Ronnie: where have i chucked the other one for the sake of this free gaff in your mind mckenna

Joe: alright, free rooms better than fuck all

Ronnie: its his emmy oggie i aint there either

Joe: anywhere good?

Ronnie: compared to what

Joe: established it’s no brag compared to tonight

Ronnie: not gonna stop you comparing me & her

Joe: compare to what?

Joe: pleasantries over cocopops

Ronnie: youll be interested in eating her out now youve got what you wanted off me

Ronnie: 9 is easier to carve than an 8 and you wont look like youre trying to copy the infinity sign one of your other exes wouldve got inked on her

Joe: it’s not remotely the fucking same

Joe: if I was arsed about getting my numbers up there’s millions of girls in this city I could hit up before you

Ronnie: yeah youre not related to any of em and theyd have less clue how to shoot up than you do

Joe: even if the related bit was ringing 100% true, you’re the only user in town now?

Joe: you don’t have to pervert it when it already was

Ronnie: youre already romanticising it like a fucking 13 year old so yeah i do cause one of us has to get real

Joe: you reckon I’m so okay with it just because I can admit I wanted it

Joe: who do you reckon you’re lying to like I weren’t there

Ronnie: who do you reckon youre talking to like i didnt fucking leave you there for a reason

Joe: Fuck off

Ronnie: i did

Joe: for someone who reckons they’re so open, you chat so much shit

Ronnie: open to what soft lad infection

Joe: scars and trackmarks on your sleeve

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: you didn’t miss much

Ronnie: no shit you didnt just invite me cause you wanted to fuck me

Ronnie: can do that anywhere

Joe: yeah and you didn’t just wanna come to make Soph cry, like

Ronnie: i owed you

Joe: get it off your to-do list then

Joe: well done

Ronnie: stop crying youll never look as ugly as horse girl doing it or go for as long as her

Joe: you love her, we all 👀

Ronnie: i said shut up

Joe: no, you say something that’s not stupid

Ronnie: what for fucks sake

Ronnie: what did you reckon id say when you started chatting shit like nothing happened

Joe: alright, I don’t know

Joe: it happened, right

Ronnie: you werent hallucinating

Joe: nothing that makes that happen in the bathroom cupboard

Joe: I don’t regret it, I know that

Ronnie: meant to be made up to hear it am i

Joe: nah, probably not

Joe: but you wanted me to talk about it so I am

Ronnie: i wanted you to take the fucking hint when i legged it as soon as

Joe: you could’ve blocked me, so

Joe: pardon me for not taking it that seriously

Ronnie: not your crazy ex & i couldnt deny you your bullshit heroics

Ronnie: mary aint carrying me anywhere and i know how bad you wanna see me turn blue

Joe: you like having a stalker, is what you mean

Ronnie: block me and get your whore flatmate to tell you what she likes about you

Ronnie: weve established i aint got the talent to sing no cunts praises

Joe: we’ve established I’m not interested in that

Ronnie: cause you want me to tell you how smart you are at fucking me instead of beat the shit out of you

Ronnie: it wont last

Joe: familys forever, sis

Ronnie: not to your ma baby

Ronnie: did i look enough like her for you

Joe: what do you reckon

Joe: your theory, not mine

Ronnie: mustve youve still not fucked off

Joe: you’ve got room for another face tat or two

Ronnie: go do that then

Joe: you can leave out the yes sir

Joe: not my fantasy

Ronnie: no shit like youve been my bitch since you hit send on facebook

Joe: 😂

Joe: I’ve been worse

Ronnie: you trying to turn me on or what its a bit late for it

Joe: just the once, alright

Joe: bit cliche but probably for the best considering

Joe: very sensible of you

Ronnie: cliche that my da didnt stick around long enough for his side of the family to properly cut or sew me up so ive gotta regret not getting chance to put a razor blade inside me before you 💔

Ronnie: now youre gonna reckon i care youve said the once ll do when i just hate you & hate how you fuck even more

Joe: Could’ve said it was about as much fun as

Joe: it’s alright

Joe: both confused, clearly

Ronnie: youre not confused youre fucking smug

Joe: hardly another achievement for the fridge door

Joe: what’s to be smug about

Ronnie: probably for the best i dont answer that if thats how you feel

Joe: come on

Joe: aside from proving you were full of shit about not wanting to as well

Ronnie: fuck you

Joe: you don’t want me to say how I really feel

Ronnie: making me cum earlier dont mean you know what i want now

Joe: right, you want me to declare my love so you get more out of telling me to fuck off, that’s more like it

Ronnie: do i fuck

Joe: then what do you want

Ronnie: like you give the slightest shit

Joe: I do too

Ronnie: no you dont

Joe: I fucking do

Joe: [prove it in a way only y’all would, carve her name or something]

Ronnie: [send him your own pics of the bite marks you’re covered in which is a self harming thing you’ve not done since you were a kid because it’s been a headfuck every second since you two met and we’re not coping honey]

Joe: you hungry?

Joe: you didn’t eat fuck all, I mean

Joe: could get something not dubiously prepared by Soph

Ronnie: hungry as you are funny

Joe: I weren’t trying to be

Joe: on the spectrum, or whatever you said

Ronnie: you wish you had the excuse or the musical prodigy status

Joe: 💔 about that genuinely

Joe: just a dickhead

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: I don’t know what to say

Joe: there’s no point saying I’m sorry

Ronnie: no point is right youre not sorry

Joe: nah

Joe: it’d be lovely for you if I’d found you and you were fine

Joe: but like you said, it ain’t about me or her, it’s about loads of shit and you clearly weren’t so

Joe: just seems pointless

Ronnie: im made up you finally got your head round it

Joe: Yeah well, I didn’t tell you I was a good person

Joe: don’t mean I don’t give no fucks, just ‘cos I ain’t trying to save you

Ronnie: you keep telling me you aint like it matters to me who you are

Joe: yeah, it doesn’t in why you’re fucked

Joe: but what do you want from me

Ronnie: its your fucking fault im like this climbing the walls same as when i was a kid

Joe: yeah ‘cos you were doing really great before weren’t ya

Ronnie: all you give a fuck about is letting yourself off the fucking hook

Joe: Blame me then what does it change

Joe: do something about it other than fucking yourself up, I don’t care

Ronnie: stop lying that youre bothered if your only answer to me losing my mind is that i was before

Joe: I can’t help you

Joe: If you thought I could, though why the fuck you would

Joe: then I am sorry

Ronnie: 💔🖕

Joe: I’ve got my own problems

Joe: if I had any solutions, I’d light ‘em up and shoot them into myself first, naturally

Ronnie: youve got a solution i gave it to you

Ronnie: why the fuck would you make me feel something

Joe: Selfishness

Joe: pure and simple

Ronnie: on your way to a grown up habit im dead proud

Joe: what more could I want

Ronnie: that to scab over seeing as youve finally admitted its bullshit

Joe: I still think about you constantly

Joe: I still want to know everything about you

Joe: I’d rot with you

Ronnie: youve got your own problems to think about

Joe: yeah, and that’s hell

Joe: I’ve done plenty of that

Ronnie: yeah and youve got your escape

Joe: take yours

Joe: can have plan bs and cs even if a is the best

Ronnie: youre the kid who tells the rest to jump off a bridge

Ronnie: cute

Joe: you’re implying I wouldn’t and all

Ronnie: i dont give a shit what you do but i aint giving you the satisfaction of being the last fuck i ever had

Ronnie: youd cling to life long enough to write a pathetic song about it

Joe: that’s the nicest thing you’ve said

Joe: which is saying something ‘cos you’re so sweet, like

Ronnie: youre welcome

Joe: I’ll do a Dylan style ballad about all your 👼🏼 deeds

Ronnie: thats the biggest turn off out of everything youve ever said or done

Joe: thank god, you’re insatiable 😏

Ronnie: once you said

Joe: not for my benefit

Ronnie: its all only for your benefit remember

Joe: if that were true you’d still be here

Ronnie: if it was true i could be

Joe: come back

Ronnie: cant ive got a face tat to get done

Joe: I understand

Joe: my art isn’t there yet

Joe: won’t ruin your beauty

Ronnie: go ed and chuck yourself off a bridge you dont have to wait for me to boot your door in & do you in for chatting shit

Joe: well I am already devvo I’m not a prodigy so yeah, add lack of a steady hand to the list of failures

Joe: probably the meds

Joe: you know being poetic is all I do, why have we downgraded it to chatting shit 💔

Ronnie: why are you calling me beautiful when you could write it in your suicide note for your ma theres your downgrade

Joe: you’re too romantic for your own good

Joe: I wouldn’t be writing a note, sorry to dash your illusions

Ronnie: not me saying i get you mckenna thats your delusion

Ronnie: what are you gonna draw on me then

Joe: you do but it’s more fun to take the piss and pretend you don’t so

Joe: That is the question

Joe: won’t brand you, don’t worry

Ronnie: if i dont want it ill cut it out no pressure

Joe: it’s just skin right

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: how olds your oldest scar

Ronnie: older than you

Joe: what did you do

Ronnie: i used to take headbanging literally

Joe: ah, the floor never saw you coming, yeah

Joe: I have a head scar too [cos he either does or did on the stalker show idk but there we go with a photo like she probably knows hun]

Ronnie: [I just imagine her smiling to herself like yeah I know nerd]

Ronnie: cant both be poets had to express myself somehow before i pushed a safety pin through my cheek

Joe: that explains the permanent 😾

Joe: fucked the muscles, like

Ronnie: your shit jokes do

Joe: it was always easier to just start fights to get hurt

Joe: when I was a kid

Joe: though you work out ways to be sneaky fast, if you have to

Ronnie: they didnt wanna fight me

Joe: everyday sexism strikes again

Ronnie: fuck off not cos im a girl

Joe: why then

Ronnie: wouldnt be me getting hurt and if i was i didnt care

Ronnie: all those mental problems you told that call centre cunt about like

Joe: ‘course you were too proud to make it count

Joe: have to let them get some punches in or there was no point, yeah

Ronnie: no point in fitz flouncing in either fun though

Joe: true

Joe: I’ve got a brother and all, I remember what it’s like

Ronnie: scraps never went far enough

Joe: yeah

Joe: most kids aren’t that psycho

Ronnie: 💔

Joe: being misunderstood served me so well for the whole musician thing so whatever, I guess

Ronnie: i mightve bothered keeping some of my bastards about if they were guaranteed nutters thatd serve you well

Joe: you’d get your own room then, like

Joe: even if you had to pack them to the rafters

Ronnie: for a stalker youre dead concerned about my privacy

Joe: nah, ‘course not

Joe: I’d rather have a place to do the gear without the possibility of Soph or Charlie 🥺ing at us obvs, nothing but selfishness

Ronnie: theres loads of places

Joe: you can show me

Ronnie: is she there now she can let me in

Joe: no idea

Joe: their room is near the door, makes sense they’d be your first victims

Ronnie: youre too selfish to get off your arse and do it

Joe: if you’re coming I’ll carry you in myself, you know that

Ronnie: ill be there and youll still be going on about what youre gonna do

Ronnie: no wonder the other kids kept smacking you

Joe: yeah, all mouth me, deffo what I was known for

Joe: not a euphemism and I don’t think they were wishing it was but who knows

Ronnie: you sure you dont want charlie giving you the eye

Ronnie: how it sounds

Joe: I’m alright, tah

Joe: pretty sure he’s over it now I’m enabling you

Ronnie: hes over everything thats not horse girls from kent but reckons the fucking lost causes are us

Joe: He clearly just gives a shit about appearances

Joe: looking nice, polite

Joe: they’ll never speak again, like

Ronnie: forget him

Ronnie: open the door

Joe: [do that boy]

Ronnie: [boop his little head scar as you come in like oh there it is]

Joe: [‘s’not even a good story’ and producing some takeaway moment from the kitchen as you go through ‘cos the dinner party was not heavy on the dinner bit]

Ronnie: [a look like ffs because people caring in any way ew no but we are gonna eat it because probably haven't since that Margate moment]

Joe: [shrugging like bitch I’m hungry as we tuck in, obviously]

Ronnie: [kick him while you've still got your big boots on but playfully not aggressively]

Joe: [😏 but in a more genuine way than that cocky face looks, I am vibing Chinese not that that matters but there we go]

Ronnie: [weirdly I also thought that maybe because it's one of the grossest haha but yeah eat your food lads]

Joe: [greasy greasy goodness, love the subtle shade if any of them come out for a cuppa or whatever like oh hello again lol]

Ronnie: [I hope it's oblivious Marc just living his life]

Joe: [that’d be most amusing, unbothered, casually]

Ronnie: [I just imagine them doing stuff to try and make him notice like when people stack stuff on a sleeping person but idk what you could do in that little kitchen]

Joe: [for sure, just being subtly annoying/weird and he is just like does not compute ‘cos we mind our own business, so childish]

Ronnie: [love that for you two]

Joe: [we stan the regression for you]

[the-busy-ghost]

TSP S02E06 Thoughts

Ok I’m late to the party today so I assume everyone has commented on most of this already and therefore I was just going to quickly sum up any other observations. But I’m only twenty minutes in and I already have SO MANY THOUGHTS

- Apparently Cardinal Wolsey is not allowed to speak to anyone now and if he does this is Suspicious. But since Katherine isn’t exactly talking to her daughter either, tbh Henry is actually quite fair to be all ‘Why would you care’.

- When Henry gets all bitchy towards Wolsey re: the chancellorship, both Wolsey and Katherine’s poker faces should be a reaction image. 

- Poor Mary at least she has Margaret Pole

- Ok I would love to go back in time and save all the historical infants from an early death if I could but I STILL don’t understand how the Duke of Ross is still alive. Poor kid should have left the scene six years earlier. AND STILL NO MARGARET DOUGLAS. While I’d like to be hopeful and assume that @glorianas hatesex idea is going to pan out, tbh with the way they’re developing Angus’ character I worry this will be another badly handled r*pe scene, IF they bother to add Margaret Douglas’ birth in at all.

- Smol James is Smol. I would die for all of the children in this show. Protect them at all costs.

- But anyway who tf is ‘Hal’ Stewart. I might be wrong (I haven’t read every source ever) but tbh ‘Hal’ is not a common abbreviation of Henry in Scotland- Harry (Harrie) is much more common as a form of Henry, and is indeed the nickname that Margaret’s third husband was commonly known by. Sadly, ‘Hal’ just makes me want to snigger and make ‘England and St George’ type speeches (though even in that line, tbh, it’s Harry not Hal). “Hal Stewart” sounds like he should have a handlebar moustache and say ‘jolly good’ and fly spitfires. Or like he’s the descendant of expat Scots living in Canada. 

- I would be a lot more surprised that Angus is sneaking in and out of places if you weren’t all literally living in a very open house which would be very difficult to defend, I mean what do you expect to happen if you have obvious enemies, very few attendants, and you park yourself in HOLYROOD PALACE

- Cut it off Meg

- Oh wait so YOU’RE not safe there and your own children aren’t safe there but you’re perfectly happy just leaving James IV’s kids there? I should say ‘kid’ singular but I think we’re past waiting for the TSP writers to use google and realise that all of James IV’s other children are over the age of eighteen by 1520. But if Margaret DID have custody of them (which seems unlikely) she’s just dumped a young girl (maybe nine years old? We don’t know but that’s my guess) in a palace with her apparently shitty ex-husband and buggered off up to Edinburgh. Agnes Stewart come pick up your daughter please, don’t leave her here, or at least send your niece back to do it since she already knows the way

- Why are they even including so many offhand remarks bout James IV’s kids so much at all if they plainly don’t know anything about them? Is this ever going to be relevant to the plot? Or did they just want to have them in the first episode to show how ‘hard done by’ Margaret is but then realised they couldn’t just ditch them without losing the audience’s sympathy for her.

- Margaret getting the conveniently placed big old book on marriage law down from the shelf (every household should have one)- but really Meg, you must have seen enough shady divorces in 16th century Scotland to know the name of a good lawyer who could do this for you

- Once again though, does Angus have NO kinsmen or retainers any more? Or was he just cutting about the Canongate on his day off from Being Evil and thought ‘I’ll go check in on the wife then shall I, she’ll have Drink which is also now something I am to be associated with’

- I am LOVING the blatantly Georgian architecture at the gates to a very disappointing Field of the Cloth of Gold. Really TSP should have just gone full Reign and embraced its inaccuracies to make a fun teen show with a load of ridiculous modern dresses, would have been more bearable than this

- I would like to address however, the fact that this show has been going on about how terrible it is for princesses to be married off to older men all season, but what are we now supposed to root for four-year-old Mary to be betrothed to the much older HRE, rather than the dauphin who is MUCH closer in age? Can the writers make their minds up? Who are we supposed to think is in the right?

- Wee Mary’s face when Katherine spoke to her for the first time- that’s probably the first time the kid has ever heard the fancy queen lady actually talk to her though, so I’m not surprised but genuinely it was quite funny.

- Someone save this child please.

- IS THAT CHARLES V- WHY IS CHARLES V HERE?? GOD IT IS JUST UNINVITED GUESTS GALORE THIS EPISODE

- Also I may be wrong but I’m pretty sure he can’t just ride across France to get to the English Pale with only a couple of attendants and w/o a safe conduct or any other notification that he’s coming? This is just Margaret Tudor riding unattended through the Borders all over again.

- Gotta love Katherine just producing him out of nowhere though, the writers really do not care about the holes they dig themselves into but the implication that Katherine can just summon emperors whenever she likes is fantastic (does she keep him in a box??)

- Katherine about the horse- “He’s trained to kill a man with a single kick”. Don’t even hesitate Guerrero, you have four legs and there’s apparently three sixteenth century kings in the area, go to town

- Charles V just buggering off again, fading into the background like he was just Katherine’s own personal imperial amazon delivery man

- Have they decided to have the Evil May Day in 1520? Why?

- *Henry and Francis approach* *Theme from the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly plays*

- FUCK WOLSEY’S DAVID ATTENBOROUGH NARRATION REALLY MADE ME LAUGH, CHRIST I THINK I BROKE SOMETHING

“What a magnificent sight, two kings meeting for the first time, this rare species, almost never seen in daylight, both approach the watering hole...”

TBH I think their coordinated bow should also have had some narration Wolsey, if you really want Attenborough’s job after him. But it’s even funnier because they both genuinely looked so awkward stepping slowly towards each other, I just can’t

- Henry’s been buying his crowns from the same Burger King Autumn Range as Chris Pine in Outlaw King I see

- FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT PLEASE BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF EACH OTHER I GENUINELY THINK THAT WOULD BE FUNNY I HAVE SEEN POSH BOYS FIGHTING THEY’RE TERRIBLE BUT IT’S REALLY FUNNY

- Pfft Wolsey’s evident panic is funny but I would like to copyright Stafford’s little eyebrow twitch where he’s obviously thinking ‘Let me hold your coat Henry’

- Katherine of Aragon following at a slower pace while Claude gives her a sideways glance is also mildly amusing, like KOA could not look less bothered. I know the wrestling was historically accurate but honestly Henry and Francis being all aggressive like they’re actually willing to kill each other when I bet they just get outside and hug weirdly is probably going to be hilarious.

- Once again Maggie, please take that child and RUN

- I was right, it IS funny.  Please Wolsey we need more Attenborough narration for this fight.

- Everyone standing around occasionally clapping awkwardly and looking vaguely unimpressed is like what would have happened in Bridget Jones if Hugh Grant and Colin Firth’s fight scene wasn’t soundtracked.

- Yeah so the wrestling was accurate but tbh I’m not sure that Henry staggering out of the ring looking like James II right before a stabbing is. In my experience if a ginger monarch in tights is wearing that expression you run, no matter who you are. 

[hell-bound-stories]

Red hair: Golden eyes

Azz had finally sat down in their chair, pure shock starting to turn to pure terror.

“Who is that?” Azz quietly barked at Syd, panicking

“How should I know?!” Syd barked back, “I should be asking you!” She was just as confused as Azz.

“Hey just because we’re both mystics doesn’t mean we know each other!” Azz was really starting to panic.

Syd kept trying to get a good look at the girl without being obvious. She was barely taller than Syd, sporting a white, blue and gold school cheer uniform with a matching varsity jacket. Her real stand out features were her snow white hair, with half of it being ice blue. Syd could tell the colour was natural. To top it off she had eyes as golden as her soft glowing halo. She seemed to be having a casual conversation with Spencer. 

“I’ve never seen Spencer hang out with a girl like her before, I would definitely have noticed that” She said to Azz, who was now hiding under the large desk.

“What are you doing?” Syd asked, genuinely confused.

“Hiding, duh, I don't want her to notice me” Azz pulled his grey hood over their head.

“Wait, why can I see her?” This question had been eating away at Syd since she learned Spencer could see Azz’s red hair, so about 10 minutes.

“Oh that’s just because you have guardian vision” Azz said, slightly peeking up from under the desk.

“Whoa!!!”

“Oh shut up, it's not as special as it sounds” Azz rolled their eyes.

“Oh, no need to ruin it” Syd mumbled to herself.

“It's like, when a human gets a guardian, angel or demon, they get guardian vision. It allows you to see angels and demons in our true colours, like my hair and eyes. Other people can’t see that on me” Azz said. This was the first time Syd had ever heard of this.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” Syd said, a little annoyed.

“It wasn’t important before” 

“Wait” Syd looked back over at Spencer, who was still chatting away with the angel, “Spencer can see your red hair”

“He can?!?!” Azz said, shock fighting over panic in their voice, “why didn’t you tell me before?!?!” 

“Oh, it wasn’t important before” Syd said with a sly grin on her face, Azz couldn’t be less amused, “besides, you where looking at those stupid snails”

“Hey, don’t you dare call Milo and CJ stupid!!” Azz snapped. 

Syd rolled her eyes, “You named them?”

“Of course I did” Azz said crossing their arms, “Those names just felt right”

Syd sighed, “Fair enough I guess, but back to the literal angel in the room”

“Oh right”

Spencer and the girl were working on today's assignment, completely contempt in each other's company, not really paying attention to the other students working around them. 

“She has to be his guardian angel, if he can see you he can surely see her”

“It has to be, we can’t give guardian vision to anyone who’s not our human” Azz looked at Spencer the best they could from under the desk, “what do you know about Spencer?” 

Syd had to think for a second, “Not much, I'm lucky I know his name. He’s smart, in a lot of AP classes, mostly keeps to himself” Before their talk at the start of class Sydney had never spoken to him before. They shared some classes together but Spencer never talked to anyone during class. 

Azz gave out a low growl, fear turning to frustration for a minute, “mm, I can’t get a read on either of them. That angel is fucking weird”

“What do you mean?” Syd really had no idea what Azz was going on about.

“I don’t know, she just” Azz paused, fear taking back over their voice, “She gives off small demon vibes. I’ve never felt anything like it”

“Oh now you're  just being dramatic” Syd joked, lightly kicking Azz in the side with her foot.

“I mean it Sydney, something’s not right here” Every second in the room with the strange angel made Azz more and more anxious and paranoid. Azz quietly turned into a black rat and ran inside of Syds bag. 

“Now what are you doing?” Syd was starting to lose patience with them.

“Immmmm just going to hang in here for a bit or the rest they day whichever comes first”

“Oh no you're not! I am not carrying your shit around!!” Syd barked at her bag.

“And I'm not hanging out in sight of that angel!” Azz squeaked, sliding away into Syd’s books.

“Ugh” Syd groaned, “She doesn’t seem that bad”. She seemed to be good friends with Spencer, and that meant something, didn’t it? 

At the end of class Syd dropped Azz’s bag off in her locker, “oh come on!” Azz protested from Syd’s bag. 

“No! I am not carrying around your elephant sack all day!” Syd declared, “you can grab it at the end of school if you’re really going to hide in my bag all day” she slammed her locker shut.

“hrmp, fine” Azz surrendered. 

Syd went about her day as normal, going to her classes, doing her assignments as they came, as Azz napped in her bag all day. She had two more classes with Spencer that day, the angel girl joining him in both. During the classes Syd tried not to stare at her, but it was hard. Syd had never even thought about angels before, and here one was sitting in high school classes with her. 

When Syd wasn’t staring at the girl, she noticed the girl staring back. She seemed confused, like she was expecting to see something else but couldn’t find it. Syd also saw her talking to Spencer, like she was asking a question about her. Syd pretended not to notice.

The bell had rung, it was finally the end of the day. Azz had finally come out of Syds bag, just to grab their own from her locker.

“Fine, since you don't love my bag, I’ll carry it! It's not even that heavy”

“It's like 50 pounds!!” 

They both argued back and forth as they made their way to the front doors of the school to walk home. Azz was snapped out of the stupid fight the moment they stepped threw the doors. Panic washed back over them, their eyes darting all over the place while trying to hide behind Syd. Their tall stature made it near impossible, but they still tried. 

“What on earth are you doing now?” Syd was really starting to get annoyed with Azz at this point

“She’s out here, I can sense it” Azz said, panic stricken in their voice.

“What are yo-” Syd turned her head and sure enough she saw the girl in question with Spencer standing outside the school, in a small grass patch off to the side. 

They were semi surrounded by a small group of boys, all paying attention to the girl. It was obvious that she couldn’t care less about the teenagers. She was only interested in Spencer, who was starting to get freaked out with all the attention he was suddenly getting. Syd could’ve sworn she heard her say something like “fuck off, leave us alone” before they both started making their way away from the group. 

“Ok bye” Azz said hastily as they ran to hide behind a trash can. 

“You know what, fine! I’ll go talk to them on my own!!” Syd shouted at Azz as they dashed away. It was going to be easier than she thought, as Spencer and the girl were already making their way over to her. 

“Hey Sydney!” Spencer said walking over with the angel close behind. They both seemed relieved to be away from that group of guys, but Spencer seemed relieved to see a familiar face. The girl gave Syd a look up and down. She seemed slightly unimpressed with her, like she was expecting more, but she still gave off a warm welcoming feeling. 

Now that they were so close, her halo was impossible not to stare at.

“Hey Spencer, who’s this?” Syd was never good with introductions, “I’ve never seen her around here before”

“Oh, this is-”

“Im Heather” She said with a warm, inviting smile, holding her hand out, “It's nice to meet you!”

Syd took her hand, ‘it's so warm’, she was surprised, ‘it's like the opposite of Azz’. In Fact Heather's whole body radiated warmth. She let go and her hand instantly felt cold again, even though it was 80 degrees outside.

“Ok, you can stop staring at it now” Heather said, still with a soft, almost innocent smile on her face.

Syd was snapped back to the moment from this sudden request, “what?”

Heather gave her a small laugh, “oh come on, I know you can see it” she said gesturing to the halo floating above her head.

“Wait you can see it too!” Spencer seemed so surprised, “I thought I was the only one again….wait” Spencer drifted off into his own thoughts.

“Umm yeah, sorry, I'm just not used to seeing one, especially this close” Syd said, she wasn’t lying.

“Oh don’t worry about it” Heather said, Her golden eyes looked gently upon Syd, “They do take a little while to get used to” The soft warm smile hadn’t left her face.  

“So, where’s your angel?” She asked casually. Syd was taken back, not knowing what to say.

“Oh come on, I know you have one, I can sense it on you, you don’t need to hide it”

“Wait” Syd was taken back even further, “You can sense angel on me?” 

Heather laughed a bit more, “of course I can, your angel didn’t explain anything did he?”

Syd sighed, getting even more annoyed at Azz even though they weren’t here, “Nope, I guess they didn’t”

“Huh, well when you're around your angel their sense rubs off on you, it's not a big deal, it's just a thing other angels can sense. Helps us keep track of humans who have guardians”

“Oh” Syd didn’t know any of this, she wished she kept the stupid pamphlet Azz gave her when they first met, “Makes sense I guess”

Spencer suddenly snapped back to attention, “Hey Heather can Sydney and I talk….in private?”

This grabbed both girls by surprise.

“Oh, yeah sure go ahead” Heather still seemed a little worried.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be ok,” Spencer reassured her as he and Syd walked across the yard, out of Heather's earshot. She was quickly surrounded by another small group of boys. Spencer and Syd both heard her give out a loud groan from across the yard. ‘I wonder how they see her’ syd thought as they walked away. Heather was like a boy magnate and she clearly wasn't happy with it.

“Azz is your angel, aren’t they?” Spencer cut right to the chase 

Syd but a hand on the back of her neck, “wellllllllllllllll” 

“They aren’t an angel…...aren’t they?” Spencer started rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

‘Well shit’ syd thought, “what gave it away?”, ‘no point in hiding that anymore’.

Spencer started pacing in a small circle, “Oh where to start, the bright red hair, the sharp teeth, the pointed ears, the red eyes, the abnormally pale skin and oh yeah the small horns on their head!!!” Spencer was trying not to shout, but the yard was slowly clearing out of students as they headed home for the day.

“Hey you said you didn’t see anything on their head when I asked this morning!” Syd snapped back.

“I didn’t want to sound insane this morning! People already thought I was crazy for saying they had red hair, I didn’t want to push my luck saying I also saw horns from time to time!” Spencer took a breath, “Look just, where is Azz now?” 

“Hiding behind that trash can” Syd pointed across the school yard, to a bin that Azz was now hiding inside of, “well….in that trash can I guess. They’ve been hiding from Heather all day, they said they get demon vibes from her” 

“They do?” Spencer seemed just as confused as Syd now, “Heather said she got angel vibes off you. I don't know about you but Azz is the opposite of an angel”

“And Heather is the opposite of a demon” Something about them didn’t add up.

“Ok well, that doesn’t matter” Spencer was starting to panic, “We need to make sure they never see each other”

Syd rolled her eyes, “ugh you’re being dramatic too. Why would we need to-”

Syd was cut off by a loud bang. They both frantically turned around to find an empty school yard, and the trash bin Azz was hiding inside of frozen completely solid, like a huge ice cube.

“That's why” Spencer's voice was full of fear, dreading the worst of what’s to come.

Heather was standing there, her arms outstretched like she had just fired the frozen shot herself. Her fists were frozen, a solid unearthly blue, with a trail of ice climbing up her forearm, stopping around her elbow. Her halo seemed somehow bigger, if that where possible, and her once inviting warm golden eyes where now glowing at bright has her halo, filled with nothing but pure hatred.

“Angels have ICE POWERS???” Syd screamed, “why didn’t you tell me before!!!!” 

“It wasn’t important before!!” 

They both turned their attention back to Heather.

“Where the FUCK are you, you BASTARD” she didn’t sound at all like the same girl Syd had just had a nice conversation with a few minutes ago, rage seeping from every inch of her voice.

As if on cue Azz fell out of the sky, landing on all fours like a cat that had just fallen out of a tree, their hands and feet leaving scorch marks on the grass below. Syd’s attention was taken away from their perfect landing and drawn immediately to the two large horns coming out of Azz’s head. His horns were always tiny, usually never even seen above their hair. This was the first time she’d ever seen them like this. They where a deep dark red with an elegant curve. 

“Hey, I didn’t even say anything, can’t we at least talk?” Azz’s voice was filled with terror, trying their best to be their usual witty self. They stood up, slowly trying to back up from Heather, leaving scorch marks in the grass with every step they took. Heather threw something in front of Azz, dangerously close to their feet. Whatever it was it instantly froze the grass solid, covering it in that sheer unearthly blue. Ice. 

“Ok, ummm, I’ll start, im Azz” With every word Azz spoke Heather somehow got more and more pissed, her once soft smile was nothing but a harsh scowl. She continued to throw the frozen objects at Azz, each one getting closer and closer to hitting Azz, freezing everything they touched. With each throw Azz got more and more panicked. Azz knew exactly what she was aiming for.

“She’s aiming for their head” Syd said to herself, she instantly started to run after Azz.

“Sydney!!” Spencer reached out of her, trying to stop her, fearing the worst from the encounter.

Syd ran in front of Azz, spreading her arms out trying to cover them the best she could, Azz ducked behind her. Heather was charging another shot. “Syd, what are you doing??” Azz asked, fear still stricken in their voice.

“HEY” syd shouted, “THIS IS MY GUARDIAN” she wasn’t going to back down.

Heather took a step back, lowering her arm. Taking another step back she closed her eyes, angrily running her frozen hands threw her hair. She looked back up at them with her golden glowing eyes. 

“He’s…”

Her anger turned to frustration and confusion. She turned around, quickly throwing the shot at a car all the way across the parking lot. She hit it dead on, instantly covering the whole thing in ice. 

She stood there for a second, “Fine” she finally snapped. She shook her arms. The thick ice once covering them fell effortlessly onto the ground, returning her fists and arms to the normal colour. Her halos glow had dimmed back down as well. She turned her head to the side to see Spencer, her golden eyes no longer glowing, “We’re going home”. The deep scowl never left her face.

She started making her way to an old beat up truck in the parking lot, leaving frozen footsteps as she walked. Spencer followed after her, mouthing a silent “I’m sorry” towards Syd as he walked past. They both climbed into the beater, and made their way down the road, out of sight from the school, leaving Azz and Syd in the frozen and scorched grass.

Syd took a desperate breath, she didn’t realize she was holding it this whole time.

“Well………...that could have gone better” 

[kiruuuuu]

Doc/Lion oneshot in which they kiss and make up after a fight. And, uh, other things. (Rating E, utter filth + fluff, ~5.2k words) - written for the ever so wonderful @icezero09​ (and welcome back to tumblr!) 💖 Thank you so, so much for commissioning me again :) You’re a joy to write for! Find my commission info here ♥

.

It’s rare for Lion to hesitate in front of his own damn apartment, keys jangling forlornly in his half-raised hand and a dull, empty feeling in his stomach.

The first time he did so lies a while back and was entirely self-imposed: following one of the most memorable nights in his life (and with his past, this means a lot) as well as a terrifying confession, he announced a trip to the nearest bakery for croissants and fresh coffee, knowing full well he was allowing for an escape. Upon his return, he rested his forehead on the cool, off-white lacquer of his door, hoping to affect reality by repeating a mantra in his mind, over and over again. Please be there still. Please be there still. Please be there still.

When he was greeted by Doc, in his underwear, subtly complaining about his fridge being worryingly empty, he could’ve burst from the pure joy exploding in him.

Another time he wavered because of a question he was about to pose, a question which had occupied his thoughts for weeks by then. The prospect of not being refused was thrilling with how much he wanted to turn his regular visitor into a permanent resident, yet they’d only been together for a few months by then. It might’ve been too early, too much of a commitment to move in together, too much to ask to share their living space. Lion had gotten lucky with his flat, snagged one with large windows, evening sunlight, spacious enough for a dedicated office and both a bathtub and a shower, and picturing Doc becoming a part of it all filled him with giddy anticipation. Regardless, the possibility of being turned down remained and so he gathered his courage in front of the very door which would become their door after a dizzyingly short amount of time.

Right now, he’s also mentally preparing himself for a potentially difficult conversation, though there are entirely too many ways it could go. The backpack dangling off his shoulder is not getting any lighter and neither are the memories of red dust, large tents lined up one after another and helplessness etched into faces. He’d volunteered for the deployment despite knowing it’ll leave him without closure – diseases will always rage on somewhere and their efforts might make a difference in one town, one city, one region, one country, but ultimately it’s like trying to fill up a swimming pool using only a cup. What he needs now is a hug, a little bit of peace and no responsibilities other than buying groceries. He loves his job, it gives him purpose and direction in life, and yet he can’t deny it drains him sometimes until there’s no energy left.

Definitely no energy to continue arguing.

“I’m home!”, he announces into the quiet once he’s discarded his shoes and hung up his jacket, receiving no response. He was looking forward to coming home throughout the entire flight, picturing a warm welcome, an apology, something along those lines and is genuinely annoyed to encounter none of it. The kitchen is empty and so is their bedroom where he drops his backpack onto the mattress he’s missed dearly (among other things), but in the living room he finds Doc in his usual armchair, sipping coffee with a book in his lap and looking up once Lion appears in the doorway.

He’s gorgeous.

It shouldn’t come as a shock but does nonetheless, two weeks of absence facilitate taking a step back and looking at him in a new light; almost as if he’s seeing him for the first time again. He looks… warm, even inviting, his kind eyes making up for the disapproving curl of his mouth, body relaxed and showing off his sculpted arms in the short-sleeved polo he’s wearing. Even casually, he dresses like he’s been invited to an informal business outing; Lion has never seen him just in sweatpants and supposes this is one of the reasons why Doc always comes across as distinguished. And he’s never wanted anything more than to curl up in his lap, cling to him and never let go.

Doc runs his gaze up and down his body, causing a pleasant tingling and maybe, just maybe he’s in the mood for -

“You look like you need a shower.”

His calm words are ice cubes on Lion’s skin. He’s not wrong, a fourteen hour flight will do that to anyone, but it’s far from what Lion has been hoping to hear. “Yeah”, he snaps without meaning to sound this harsh, “I probably do.”

The argument from before he left continues in his head while he’s basking in the heat of the water drumming down on his skull: he was only doing his job, after all. That’s why he got hired – he’s a professional and refuses to let emotions interfere with his work, and that’s a good thing, isn’t it? He nearly drops the shampoo bottle in agitation and hits his elbow on the cool tiles as he proceeds to weave an impenetrable net of arguments in his mind, counters everything Doc could throw at him effortlessly and recalls the things they spat at each other two weeks ago.

Ultimately, it was his jurisdiction seeing as it was a containment issue, albeit a relatively minor one. He planned on taking the necessary steps while Doc undermined his authority along the way, much to his irritation – maybe he did misdiagnose the boy and paint a picture more grim than reality, yet the scheduled tests would’ve cleared it up without a doubt and brought both the child as well as his mother the deserved peace of mind instead of sending them home from quarantine early. In the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter whether she had urgent appointments to get to and the boy was frightened almost to the point of hysterics, not if their staying overnight would’ve ensured they’re good to go, so Doc was entirely out of line by declaring them safe and allowing them to leave.

Even though they were safe. Lion admits that. Everyone knew, but regulations are there for a reason and why allow for making mistakes when there’s safety procedures which benefit literally everyone and hell, he’s getting worked up again.

He curses under his breath and shuts the water off. It’s about the principle of it all. Doc can’t continue being as lenient as he is and it’s bad enough Six and the others are catering to his bleeding heart, Outbreak being only one of the many examples Lion can think of – if they’d lost some of their best ops going on that frankly idiotic suicide mission to save Macintosh, it would’ve been a disaster. The fact that it happened to work out is irrelevant.

Angrily, he shrugs on one of his nice shirts out of spite, buttoning it while glaring at himself in the mirror. He’s going to show Doc what he’s been missing out on these past weeks. Maybe he should casually drop a few names to make Doc really regret not talking to him while he was in Africa. Well. It’s not like he messaged or called Doc, but again. It’s about the principle of it all.

While dressing fully, he prepares an opening sure to grab Doc’s interest while simultaneously sounding dismissive, ends up stomping into the living room to deliver his short speech and is about three syllables in when he realises Doc isn’t even there anymore.

“… Olivier?”

He turns around to an amused-looking Frenchman in the kitchen, lifting a cup to indicate it’s for Lion and he dares to still look utterly irresistible. Lion pushes away the mental image of just tossing the mug into the sink in favour of tracing Doc’s jaw line with his tongue (but fuck, it’s tempting) and instead blurts out something he doesn’t even mean, something which needs far more context than, well, nothing: “I wish people stopped listening to you all the time.”

Doc’s face turns stony and Lion wants to kick himself. “Or we can fight instead of catching up”, he mutters and slams the coffee onto the counter, causing it to slosh over. “That’s fine too.”

Lion has joined his lover in the kitchen now, brows scrunched together. “I don’t want to fight”, he states lamely.

“No. You just want to rehash an argument for which we found no solution while insisting you’re right. Big difference.”

Alright. Maybe he wants to fight a little, if only to get a rise out of Doc who’s infuriatingly composed still. “I met some of your former colleagues from MSF”, he tactically switches topics to hopefully appease his boyfriend enough in the meantime so he gives in once Lion pushes the previous issue some time later. “Martina says hi.”

“I know. We talk regularly.” Ouch. The cutting quality of the remark is not lost on him: Doc is pissed that he didn’t even let him know whether he arrived safely. “She also tells me you got shot.”

This, at least, he can de-escalate. “I was shot at, but not hit.”

“Martina mentioned blood.”

“It was a graze shot on my side. It’s healed already.”

Doc seems thoroughly unimpressed – not undeservedly, Lion has been known to either downplay or exaggerate his own injuries wildly, though he hasn’t told anyone the real reason. Pretending he was worse off than it appeared ensured a trip to Doc’s office, and acting as if everything was fine surely impressed the Frenchman once he was there. A foolproof system. “If you say so.”

“I say it because it’s true. Were you worried about me?”

Brown eyes turn even darker at the teasing question. “Of course. Every day, Olivier. Just because you behaved like a temperamental child doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.”

Lion sputters in indignation. “I did not. If anything, you were worse, you broke the fucking vase!”

“Only because you implied the lives of my colleagues are worth less to me than those of civilians.”

“I only did that because you said I care more about rules than I do about humans in general.”

“You also slammed the door and actually stomped your foot. I’m not the immature one here!”

“And yet you sat here and pouted instead of checking up on me despite being worried just because you need to be right -”

“I am right. And now show me your stupid wound!”

“There is no wound, Gustave!”

“We both know you’re lying, come on.”

“Do you really trust me that little?”

“Have you given me enough reason to trust you?”

And that does it. That is it. Lion is seething at this point, all the pent up frustration and worry boiling over as a result of Doc’s consistent nagging, his denial of Lion being right concerning protocols, the silence during the previous weeks and his insistence on being always correct, it’s too much. He snaps.

With one swift motion, he rips his shirt open, presenting his naked torso to his lover, and growls: “Does this look like I’m fucking injured?!”

Doc stills.

And during the brief silence which follows the animalistic gesture, Doc’s eyes are glued to Lion’s chest, sun-tanned and skin smooth with only the faint hint of a scar on his ribs, a mark which will completely fade in months. Around them, torn-off buttons plink and bounce on the floor.

Lion knows what he looks like, knows his lugging around heavy equipment paired with fewer meals and small portions has made his muscles stand out, contoured him flatteringly and harmonises with his slightly bleached auburn hair. He probably smells like sunlight.

Maybe this ended up a little too dramatic.

“You need to fuck me right now”, Doc tells him, tone serious, “we can argue later.”

… or maybe this had just the right kind of flair.

Before he’s even processed the words, Doc’s hands are already pulling on his belt and fuck, getting with the program has never been this seamless. He angrily swats his lover’s hands away to complete the task himself, flinches involuntarily when soft lips latch onto one of his nipples and presses out a groan upon feeling teeth on the sensitive skin. It’s all a little too sudden so he’s only half hard when Doc yanks his trousers down, but watching him sink to his knees without hesitation and lick his way from the base to the tip does wonders to remedy this.

Lion threads his fingers into dark, wavy hair, still reeling from what on earth just happened, is still happening, yet he couldn’t be further from complaining once Doc wraps his glossy lips around the head and flattens his tongue against it. His mouth is hot and wet and Lion feels himself swelling inside the cavern, blood rapidly filling his stiffening shaft while Doc mercilessly sucks him into full hardness. He makes for a beautiful picture like this, more submissive than he usually lets himself be, especially in context, though when he glances up at Lion, there’s still something defiant in his dark gaze.

So that’s how it’s going to be.

His grip tightens and he begins guiding Doc’s movements, pulling him further onto his cock with each bob and causing first a strangled moan and then a warning hum which he disregards entirely. There’s some residual anger still and it bleeds into Lion’s motions, makes them a little rougher than normal. Doc’s tongue is slowly driving him insane with the way its tip seeks out all his most sensitive spots almost out of spite, how it massages the underside, swirls over his slit and curls around the glans, and the sweet pressure of his lover sucking on him only adds to the dizzying mix of stimulation. Not only does it feel mind-blowing, it feels like triumph.

Idly, he debates leaving it at that, interpret this phenomenal blowjob as a concession of defeat from Doc and never bring up their earlier argument again – it would certainly be worth it, Doc always looks so beautiful after he’s swallowed Lion’s come, dazed and proud and like his reading glasses would be askew if he put them on. Doc’s slight resistance might be just for show but Lion relishes it nonetheless, keeps dragging him in while testing out the limits, lets up a little when Doc pinches his thigh after a particularly deep swallow – and then he notices Doc palming himself through his trousers.

He seems to be enjoying this just as much as Lion is.

Inside Doc’s mouth, his cock gives a vicious throb at the sudden surge in desire and earns a helpless moan in return. Lion pictures it briefly, him fucking Doc’s throat while his lover pleasures himself, trapped between focusing on Lion’s dick and his own erection, and his hips involuntarily thrust forward at the mental image. Doc, not expecting it, withdraws while gasping, robs Lion of his delicious wet heat and glares. The hand between his legs, however, is not stopping.

Belatedly, Lion realises this isn’t a submission, if anything it’s an act of war – Doc is taking what he thinks is his, rendering Lion useless in the process. He’s furious but unable to keep his hands off Lion. And if that isn’t the hottest thing he could’ve hoped to encounter today.

“Get up”, he orders hoarsely, throat dry, and doesn’t waste any time undressing his lover as soon as he’s obliged. All his clothes are quickly discarded and tossed somewhere, and with every new bit of skin revealed, Lion’s impatience grows: he wants this man, and he wants him now, wants to show him without a shadow of a doubt how much he desires him… but also make him admit Lion was right.

Doc’s skin is warm under his palms and his tongue slick against Lion’s own. Their making out is almost desperate and not at all befitting a loving reunion after a prolonged absence, but neither of them mind while their lips glide over each other, hands roaming over bodies. Doc moans into his mouth when Lion grabs a handful of his ass, and refuses to break the kiss even as he’s lifted up and set down on the table. His legs wrap around Lion’s hips and he pulls him closer, ankles locked, the gesture possessive but encouraging, and both of them voice their pleasure when their erections rub against each other, Lion’s spit-slicked and Doc’s just as hard now.

“Missed me that much, Gustave?”, he teases in between ravenous kisses and almost loses his balance when Doc’s legs shove him a little in protest.

“Don’t be so smug and get the lube.”

“Why don’t you get it yourself if you want me so much?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

They glare at each other and it’s tough not to allow the challenging expression to melt into an amused smile over Doc’s visible frustration. He’s clinging to Lion still, resistance clearly written in his features – if it was for him, he’s not going to give up any time soon. The realisation of what he’s going to do next makes Lion’s dick jump in anticipation and he turns out to be right: if Lion has leverage over his lover due to how horny he is, he just needs to level the playing field. And so he lightly sinks his teeth into Lion’s shoulder, grabs his cock and drags the nails of his other hand over Lion’s ribs. The faint pain is transformed into roaring want immediately upon Doc lightly jerking him and holy shit, why have they never had angry sex before?

He curses quietly, whispers Doc’s name and earns a sharp nip to his jaw; if he wants to keep up, he needs to act. Blindly, he reaches behind him and fetches the bottle of olive oil from the counter while thrusting into the unforgiving grip. The feeling is divine, almost as good as Doc’s mouth and he hears himself groan in bliss after his lover has spat into his hand and eased the slide considerably, producing a whole other kind of friction. He’s got something better, though.

As soon as his oiled-up fingers curl around Doc’s thick shaft, the Frenchman pauses. Takes a deep breath. And expels it again with a sound akin to a whine when Lion begins stroking him leisurely, thoroughly enjoying the way his lover relaxes into him before being aware of doing so. And once he notices, it’s back to struggling.

They relentlessly exploit each other’s weakspots, Lion sucking a purple bruise onto Doc’s neck, right below his ear, and Doc massaging his balls, nearly causing his knees to give in, fingertips brush over nipples, lips latch onto sensitive patches of skin, and all the while they’re simultaneously pushing each other away and pressing closer. Breath mingling, they’re becoming one already, pawing and kissing and attempting to dominate. They’re both worse for wear by now and so Doc doesn’t even protest when Lion orders him to lie back and spread his legs. Fingers generously coated in olive oil, Lion runs them over his lover’s entrance teasingly before inserting just one.

And oh.

Doc’s cheeks darken when Lion adds a second finger without hesitation, finding his insides pliant and wet already – or rather still.

“Couldn’t even wait until I’m home”, Lion tuts and watches, full of wonder, as Doc swallows even a third digit easily.

“If you hadn’t given me the silent treatment, you might’ve gotten some photos”, the other Frenchman retaliates through his teeth, though his grimace slips a little when Lion strokes over his prostate. Being this familiar with his body pays off more often than not.

“And if you hadn’t given me the silent treatment, I’d have talked you through it.” Lion’s own dick is rearing to go, pulsing impatiently at the sight of Doc’s hole stretching around his fingers, and yet he resists the temptation to enter him and instead goes back to jerking him with his free hand. Doc looks like he’s going to start drooling any second now, his resistance forgotten in favour of grinding against Lion’s hands. “I would’ve told you that you’re doing so good, that you look beautiful, that you can take even more fingers than that. How much I want you. That you should imagine it’s me pushing inside you.”

He’s putty in Lion’s hands now, was shoved over the threshold by overwhelming need and has turned malleable, soft, desperate. Lion has won, and victory has never felt sweeter than right now: the person with whom he hopes to spend the rest of his life all laid out in front of him, blinking up at him dazedly and with so much love obvious in chocolate brown eyes that Lion’s heart threatens to burst for a moment.

“Please”, Doc says quietly. And Lion doesn’t make him say it twice.

Slicking up his own cock already forces a moan out of his throat, so he doesn’t expect to last long – not with how long he’s had to wait for this, not with how tight the ring of muscle was around his three fingers. It doesn’t matter, he’s sure they’ll be having a second round later. Carefully, he lines up the tip and pushes in with minimal resistance, both of them moaning when the head slips inside, and once he’s fully bottomed out, he takes a moment to revel in familiar feeling of Doc clenching down on him. Oh, how he missed this. How he missed the disbelief written all over Doc’s face when Lion rolls his hips and brushes over his sweet spot, how he missed the filthy sounds they’re producing together, how he missed the feeling of another body against his own.

Once he slams inside the first time, Doc is already incoherent and the half-syllables he manages only convince Lion to not let up, increase force and speed and intensity to make him forget his own name, to make him forget he ever belonged to anyone else. His lover’s crotch is an oily mess but it’s just perfect for him, allowing him to wank him hard and fast, rapidly building pleasure in time with his thrusts – Doc doesn’t suspect anything yet, thighs trembling already from how deep Lion invades him with every motion, from how calloused fingers run over sensitive flesh. He must think Lion impatient or close to the edge but couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s only just started.

When he ceases his ministrations just as Doc’s abs begin to flutter, giving away his impending orgasm, he expects his lover to react with indignation, possibly take matters into his own hands or at the very least glare at him, but when his eyes open, they’re so full of devotion and acceptance that Lion is momentarily floored. Instead of fighting him, Doc tightens his legs and drags him in, turns the hard thrusts rocking his body even more brutal and unforgiving despite panting already, despite squirming away from the overpowering pleasure. He doesn’t protest when Lion massages his dick once more, struggles to hold it with how fiercely it’s twitching, and even when he stops again due to Doc’s mewling nearly reaching peak volume, the man in front of him tolerates the torture.

Lion keeps up the merciless rhythm of his hips, fucks his way towards a well-deserved climax and marvels at the beauty laid out just for him, but it bothers him how… accommodating Doc has become even though he’s nothing if not stubborn. And yet he rewards Lion’s movements with loving gazes, contracts around his shaft to increase the sweet, sweet pressure, and lets endless, blissful noises drop from his lips. Lion can feel Doc’s toes flexing against his back, so he must be hitting just the right spot and he’s so caught up in his own lust, so focused on the erotic sensation of driving into the person he loves, of making both of them feel good, that it takes him embarrassingly long to understand.

He leaves Doc hanging on the edge again and explores his shapely chest with a slick hand, leaving glistening trails on darker skin, but it clicks when his palm travels all the way up, barely brushing against Doc’s throat. Because he tilts his head back, willingly exposing the vulnerable body part. And Lion gets it.

It doesn’t matter that they disagree on certain topics, their views are unlikely to change and so neither of them will budge, but what does matter is that they love each other regardless. That they accept each other the way they are, and even if they might be angry, their passion and commitment remains untouched. This is why Doc is handing himself over so willingly: his trust is unshaken.

And Lion interrupts his motions to lean down and kiss him, channel all the love and faith and desire he feels for this man into the gesture while burying both hands in Doc’s hair, cradling his face. The smile he feels against his mouth tells him that Doc understands, and when Lion starts grinding against him a few seconds later, both of them gasp.

“I missed you so much”, Lion mutters against parted lips and now everything is pouring out of him. “Fuck, I thought of you every free second. You feel so good, Gustave, you have no idea how good you feel. You’re amazing. I love you so much.”

Doc moves against him, eyes open as he clings to the taller man like his life depended on it. “I love you too, Olivier. And you’re so deep -”

“I even dreamt of you. I still can’t believe this is real, sometimes. You look so fucking hot right now, I want to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

This earns him the very first genuine, absolutely brilliant smile ever since he came back. Doc licks his mouth open and plays with his tongue until they’re both breathless and gasping before whispering: “Do it.”

So Lion does.

He pulls out, half drags Doc off the table and turns him around so his feet are (already unsteadily) on the floor, torso resting on the wooden surface with Lion behind him, and slams home in one fluid motion. From there, it’s a veritable mess, a maelstrom of sensation and want, a barrage of stimulation muddling Lion’s perception entirely. He’s vaguely aware of waves of divine pleasure rushing through his entire body with each thrust, notices Doc looking back at him pleadingly over his shoulder, incredulity lining his features and increasing with every strangled sound. It’s pure heaven, skin slapping sharply on skin, his cock rubbing over Doc’s prostate with every thrust, causing him to whimper and writhe and his legs to almost give in, and all the while he insistently drags Doc’s hips to meet him so he can reach as deeply inside as possible.

The fast tempo wrecks them both, sweat is starting to bead up on Doc’s back and Lion’s forehead, both of them completely lost in their own pleasure, in each other, in the feeling connecting them – and when Lion reaches around to jerk Doc in the same unrelenting rhythm as his motions, another hand closes over his own, squeezes it more tightly and demonstrates just how Doc likes it right now. Knowing how much he enjoys the deep and thorough penetration only serves to cloud Lion’s thoughts further and, in contrast, sharply brings his own desire into focus, steadily building up with every time he invades his lover so intimately until he can’t take it anymore.

When he comes, he folds in half and moans unselfconsciously into Doc’s hair, loud groans wrenched from him with every delicious wave of pleasure rolling through him. The relief is immeasurable, rushes through his veins like liquid electricity and has him shuddering violently in time with his small thrusts accompanying the contractions in his lower muscles. He’s barely aware of Doc’s hand speeding up in desperation but suddenly becomes keenly aware of his lover climaxing below him due to the hard clenching around him all of a sudden, the spasms milking him even further and his own moans mixing with Doc’s. They both shiver, prolong each other’s orgasm with minuscule movements and only come down slowly from their intense high, aftershocks making their muscles twitch and cocks throb.

Doc lets out a content sigh which Lion mirrors, but when he pushes against the larger body draped over him, Lion refuses to budge. He’s still coasting on the elating feeling of loving and being loved, of sharing intimacy, and if he doesn’t say it now, he never will.

Lips brushing over warm skin, he murmurs: “I’m sorry. I… rules help me do the right thing and I’m afraid of acting without them. I’ll try to think for myself more instead of blindly relying on general instructions which might not fit the situation exactly.”

His lover huffs a quiet laugh and catches one of his hands in his own, interlaces their fingers to show him he appreciates the apology. “I’m sorry too. I let my feelings interfere with my work which can be dangerous. I’ll try to take a step back and assess situations more objectively.”

It’s such a relief to hear these words that Lion nearly tears up at the realisation that he’s forgiven, that he made a concession only to be graced with one in return, that they’re equals after all, both human and thus flawed in their own way. They’re both wrong if the result is them not speaking to each other, and the insecurity of what their fight might mean for their relationship melts away, leaving behind nothing more than a fuzzy feeling.

This time, when Doc moves, Lion withdraws gingerly and stands up straight, pulling the other man into a tight embrace once he’s turned around. They kiss slowly and sweetly, both of them smiling into it since they can’t help it and when he playfully peppers the side of Doc’s neck in kisses, his lover reacts with a chuckle.

“That was awful”, Doc tells him matter-of-factly. “Let’s never do that again.”

And though Lion has to agree that the past two weeks rank among the worst of his life, he can’t help but clarify: “You don’t mean the angry sex though, right? You looked so incredibly hot, blowing me while furious.”

Doc snorts, visibly embarrassed, and shakes his head slightly. “If you liked that, I… guess we can have a repeat performance. Just without all the nonsense before it.”

“Yeah. I agree.” Lion takes the opportunity to eye up his boyfriend, take in his messy hair, the shimmery smears all over his body, the absolute mess between his legs – and it looks like he did drool on the table after all. “You look like you need a shower.”

The grin spreading on Doc’s face is almost mischievous and has Lion falling for him all over again, not that he’s letting it show just how smitten he really is. “And I do hope you’re going to accompany me, mon amour?”

How could he say no to that? “We have a lot of catching up to do”, he agrees and drops his gaze to see some of his semen running down Doc’s thigh.

Maybe he’ll end up having to shower three times today.

[itsallavengers]

stony, 5 please? :)

Wait a minute. Are you jealous?

There was someone hitting on Steve.

Which was woefully normal. Steve was... well, Steve. He drew every eye in the room as soon as he walked in. He was charming and kind and genuine. Literally anyone with eyes and a brain would want to take him home and keep him there. Luckily, Tony had (somehow, miraculously)  managed to get there first. 

Unluckily, however, that never seemed to stop people from trying their luck anyway. 

In all honesty, Tony couldn’t even blame them. Back in his youth, he probably would’ve tried to do the same sleazy thing. And this guy- the one brushing his shoulder against Steve’s and smiling up at him with the most obvious bedroom eyes in the entire fucking world- he seemed exactly like Tony when he’d been that age. Couldn’t have been over twenty-five, with tan skin and those stupid hipster glasses that no-one thought was cool anymore. Except Steve, who called them ‘neat’. 

Goddamn him and his adorable ass. 

They were having what appeared to be an avid conversation, Steve cradling his bottle of beer between two hands as he leaned against the bar and watched the other guy talk. Tony, to be quite honest, wasn’t even supposed to be at the gala at all. It was for a school-funding charity that Steve had fronted, and although Tony’d been invited as a guest, he’d been ridiculously busy and had had to send Steve out on his own. 

Of course, this was what happened as soon as everyone saw that Steve Rogers was missing a Tony Stark hanging off his arm. Obviously thought he was fair game. Fucking vultures.

Would Steve even want him to butt in at this point? Tony had come to drop off Steve’s speech which he’d somehow managed to leave in the workshop before heading out, and when he’d texted he’d implied that the event had been pretty boring- but that was twenty minutes ago, and he seemed to be having a good time now. With the younger, hotter version of Tony who had an ass that left practically nothing to the imagination in those jeans and who probably didn’t have nearly as much trauma and daddy issues-

Stop it, he warned himself with a huff. It had been three years, and Steve hadn’t left yet. He loved Tony. Tony was being ridiculous. Tony was-

...Watching as the man ‘spilled’ his drink all over Steve’s dress shirt and then used that as an excuse to put hands all over Tony’s fucking boyfriend, dammit, those were his pecs to touch, not that little overzealous highschooler who probably didn’t even have anything higher than a fucking bachelors in anything, the stupid little bastard.

Tony was walking over before his mind had even made the decision, body acting of its own accord. He pulled the notes out of his jacket, looking down at Steve’s familiar curly writing with a small smile before dropping his hand and hurrying down the stairs, moving through the crowds with practised ease. As he got closer, he heard what the kid was saying. He had a warm voice; smooth and low, and jheeze, Tony could just hear the suggestiveness in his tone, no one spoke like that normally and that was a fact.

“-I’m such a clutz, dammit, I remember this exact same thing happened when I was driving my new limited edition mustang, except with coffee. Ugh, I swear I’m good with my hands usually- in all senses of the word if you know what I mean,” the guy stopped and winked up at Steve, who, bless him, just smiled sort of awkwardly and then shook his head.

“It’s fine, honestly, I can- you don’t have to- I got this,” Steve raised his own hands in a signal for the guy to back up, which surprisingly, he did. He then began to scrub a few times at the stain on his chest, before sighing and just leaving it there, tossing the napkin onto the bar. “I don’t think there’s much else we can do about that for tonight.”

Tony could practically see that asshole gearing up to swoop in for the final move- some sort of ‘my place is five minutes away, wanna go clean up there?’ or some cheesy line like that- and so before he could, Tony’s mouth moved first.

“Hey babe- now I’m here, we can really get this party started.”

Steve and the kid both turned to him, opposing expressions falling over each of their faces at the same time- Steve with delight, and the little asshole with annoyance. 

“Tony,” Steve said warmly, opening up his arm on instinct and then letting Tony press himself up against Steve’s side. Usually, Tony probably would’ve just gone for a cheek kiss- but Tony was feeling petty, and sometimes, he just liked to let people know that he did not and would not ever share his toys, and so without hesitation he leaned up and curled his hand around Steve’s jaw, pulling him down for a scorching kiss. 

Of course, Steve went with it. Tony could feel his mild surprise, but that didn’t stop him from kissing back with vigor, his hands sliding down Tony’s body until landing on his ass and staying there for a few moments. It took at least three seconds for Steve to remember he was at a public function and hastily move them back up to more appropriate territories, and Tony felt himself grin. 

He eventually broke off, keeping his hands resting around Steve’s neck as he turned his head and looked at the other guy with a slick smile. “Hi,” he said, “I’m Tony. You might have heard of me before.”

The guy blinked, looking a little put-out for a moment before regaining his composure and then smiling back. “Lucas,” he responded, “it’s nice to meet you, Tony. Although I thought you weren’t attending tonight?”

“Well, life is full of surprises, isn’t it?” He said sweetly, before  turning back to the important person in the room and sliding Steve’s prompt cards into his breast pocket, shaking his head at the man fondly. “You’re a goddamn nightmare, you know that?” He said, leaning up to kiss him again. 

Steve smiled sheepishly. “I was distracted. I’m sorry for dragging you out here.”

Tony felt himself being glared at to his left, so he turned his head and then raised an eyebrow. “Hey, just out of interest- is your car the limited edition mustang that’s parked outside?”

A flash of surprise. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

Tony just shrugged, pointing a finger. “Oh, because it was getting toed when I came in. You might wanna go get it.”

It was a dick move, but then again, Tony was known for being a dick. Lucas’ face paled, and with a quick curse he scurried away, bumping Tony’s shoulder as he pushed through in order to stop his car from being toed by the invisible toe-truck that Tony had just made up.

Steve watched Tony as he pulled a face. “What a shame. He seemed like a nice guy.”

When Tony looked at Steve to see whether he agreed, Steve simply shrugged indifferently. “Yeah, he was cool. He’s one of the ambassadors for the charity- does a lot of good for the local kids apparently.”

Tony nodded. Yeah, Steve would’ve loved that. “Pretty, too,” he continued, unable to help himself, because he was a childish idiot who might as well have been writing ‘do you still like me best’ on a sticky note and sending it across the classroom.

Steve just looked at him funny. “Uh, if you say so,” he said, shrugging again.

Tony looked at him. “Just out of curiosity, how low did his wandering hands go when he was rubbing you down with that napkin? I’m thinking he was at least trying to make it to the abs, but your angle was better than mine-”

“Tony, what are you-” Steve paused, before his eyes widened a little and he looked down at him in what seemed to be amusement, “wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Tony huffed, flapping out a hand and letting his peaceful facade fall. “Of course I’m jealous, that damn twink had his hands all over you, and he’s hot, and he’s not got any gray hairs and he wears those stupid hipster glasses that you like and you didn’t seem to mind too much that he was flirting the pants off you at some charity event on a Sunday evening!”

Steve looked at him in bewilderment, blinking a few times. “He wasn’t flirting with me,” he said dumbly, but when Tony just stared, unimpressed at him, Steve’s eyes widened. “He was flirting with me?” He asked incredulously.

If it had been anyone else in the world, Tony would have been absolutely certain they were just trying to cover their asses. Because surely no-one could be that oblivious, right?

Well. Steve could. Hopeless-at-flirting, dense-as-a-brick, romantically constipated Steve had managed to mix up Tony’s blatant propositioning for friendly banter for about two years straight. He couldn’t see a come-on if it painted itself neon orange and danced naked in front of him.

God, Tony loved him so much it hurt.

He smiled weakly, resting his head into Steve’s shoulder. “When people make sexual innuendos about how good their handjob skills are to strangers, that’s a big sign that there’s flirting going on, yeah,” he explained in amusement.

Steve’s hand tightened around Tony’s waist nervously. “Oh,” he said, and Tony wasn’t looking at his face, but he could just sense the blush of embarrassment crawling up there, “oh, I had no idea- oh God, sorry Tony, I promise I wasn’t trying to encourage that, I wouldn’t, you know I-”

“Oh God, of course I know that you big lug, be quiet,” Tony huffed and smacked him lightly on the chest, looking up at him, “sorry. It’s just...” he gestured to himself with a bashful shrug, “issues,” he finished weakly, “lots of them. Manifesting in various shitty ways.”

Steve looked at him, and then frowned a little as he took Tony’s face in his hands. “Hey,” he said quietly, “you know that I’m not planning on leaving you for anyone any time soon, right?” A smile curved across his face. “No matter how young they might be or how cool their glasses are, or even if they don’t have a single grey hair on their body. I don’t love any of them.”

Tony looked down with a sigh. “That’s stupid of you,” he muttered, “maybe when I was in my twenties, I would’ve been better for you, but Jheeze, Steve, I’m on the wrong side of forty now, and then there’s everyone else you could have and I know it’s stupid but sometimes I just see them and think-” he broke off, shaking his head as he finished, “I’m just... so far from what you deserve, that’s all.”

When Steve didn’t say anything, Tony just sighed in dismay. God, why did he have to go and run his mouth and make everything about him? This had started off light-hearted, but of course, he had to go and make everything sad. “Fuck, just ignore me,” he muttered, smiling tightly and stepping away, “I’m only kidding around. Knock ‘em dead with your speech, Steve, you always do- I’ll probably be asleep when you get back but-”

He stopped speaking as Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him back in, kissing him hard and fast. Steve’s grip on his bicep was firm, and he pushed Tony against the bar in order to go at his mouth like they were in the bedroom rather than a charity event. Tony just rolled with it, holding back the urge to make an inappropriate noise in front of all the guests. Fuck, Steve was good at kissing. 

Then Steve broke away, and Tony looked up at him with a blank face, stunned into temporary silence.

“You’re such a goddamn idiot sometimes,” Steve told him with a shake of his head, “I’m a 1940′s loud-mouthed runt from Brooklyn who grew up with nothing more than ten dollars in his bank at any given moment, who fights crime in tights and doesn’t even know when someone’s blatantly trying to come onto him- yet I’ve managed to bag the world’s cleverest, most beautiful, funny and kind superhero in the entire world, and you think that you don’t deserve me?” 

Tony frowned. “They’re not tights,” he said eventually, “they’re graphene-lined kevlar bodysuits.”

Steve just looked at him, and then he smiled so warmly that Tony felt as if he might melt from it. The man leaned down, pressing the softest kiss against his cheek. “Tony, you are ridiculous,” he declared, “and I love you more than anything else in the whole world, okay? Grey hairs and everything. In fact, the silver fox look is kinda hot. So.” Steve just shrugged, winking down at Tony when he blinked in surprise. 

There were some days when Tony wondered how in God’s name he’d ever managed to find someone as perfect as Steve Rogers. Today was one of them. And the strangest thing about it was that Tony knew Steve wasn’t lying. He did think that Tony’s grey hairs were hot- in the same way he found it cute when Tony fell asleep on Steve on the couch and ended up drooling on his shoulder, or loved the crows feet around his eyes because they showed he was happy. 

Steve was just... perfect. 

“I love you,” Tony said, kissing his shoulder apologetically, “sorry for freaking out.”

“I love you too,” Steve responded, “sorry for being so oblivious to other people’s come-on’s.”

Tony grinned wryly, looking up at Steve as an idea popped into his head. “I think I know a way to potentially deter people doing that in the immediate future,” he told Steve solemnly, nodding his head.

-Which was how they found themselves in some conveniently placed cloak-room, making out like teenagers as Tony sucked a variety of dark hickeys into Steve’s neck, just under the collar, but visible to anyone if they were looking hard enough. 

He heard as Steve breathed hard above him, Adam's apple bobbing up and down under Tony’s mouth. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed, “sometimes I forget how nice love-bites feel.”

Tony nipped the spot he was working on with his teeth and felt as Steve gasped. “Will try and regularly remind you then,” he muttered, pressing Steve against the door and splaying his fingers out across Steve’s chest, “God, I love you,” he said, peppering kisses across the sharp line of Steve’s jaw.

Steve whimpered. He adored it when Tony kissed him there. “Love you too,” he breathed harshly, eyes clenched shut as he let his head drop back against the door, much to Tony’s delight. God, how bad he wanted to suck a hickey right up onto Steve’s throat, where Goddamn everyone could see it, and know where it had come from. 

Alas. The Charity hosts probably wouldn’t approve of Steve Rogers walking up on stage looking like he’d just been fucked in a bathroom stall- no matter how much Tony might like that idea.

“Okay, we gotta- we gotta stop,” Steve said eventually, although it sounded thoroughly pained, “my speech is in five minutes and I cannot come in my pants before I walk up there. That’s just so many levels of bad.”

Tony pouted, but ultimately ceased his attack on Steve’s neck. “I’ve done it before,” he said moodily, “more than once.”

“Well, I’m not quite as shameless as you,” Steve told him, before rubbing at his neck and grinning, “how do I look?”

Tony stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Steve’s collar was unbuttoned, and from his sternum to the beginning of his neck were a litany of purpley-pink marks, slowly darkening against his pale and flushed skin. He looked beautiful He looked like Tony’s.

It was ridiculously childish. 

It was also ridiculously hot.

 “You look like you’re currently unavailable to any potential suitors,” Tony said eventually, kissing one of the marks gently and feeling the hot skin underneath his mouth.

Steve met his eyes and smoothed out Tony’s hair. “Good,” he said, before looking down at his watch and sighing. “I’m also about five minutes late. I should’ve been in the wings getting the run-down by now. I really have to go.”

Tony nodded, stepping forward and buttoning Steve’s shirt back up properly, re-tying his tie until he looked just about presentable. “Alright,” he said, “and I really have to get back to my work. Pepper is going to kill me if I don’t finish this paperwork.”

Steve nodded, hand going backward and curling around the doorknob. “Right,” he said, breathing in once more and trying to pull his eyes away from Tony’s mouth, “speech. Okay. This’ll be fun. I will... we will continue this when I get home, okay?”

Tony just nodded wryly at Steve’s slightly whiny voice, patting him on the shoulder fondly. Yeah- he really had no reason to doubt a thing. Steve was still just as in love with him as he had been a year ago, or two or three or four. Tony still had it. And apparently, the grey hair just made it better, which was certainly a fact that Tony would be taking into consideration from now on.

He leaned up and kissed Steve one more time, before backing away. “Go get ‘em, soldier.”

[luvknow]

barista au | han jisung

❝ what’s good ~? welcome to cafe glow!! what would ya like? ❞ ❝ can i just get a cup of water? ❞

HAN JISUNG

night/closing shift cafe au lait all day widely known as “the flirty one” sings/raps nearly every song that comes on the radio gets carried away with talking to the customers for too long

chan | woojin | minho | changbin | hyunjin | JISUNG | felix | seungmin | jeongin

sigh...

dear god.

prepare yourselves for The Closing Shift™

if pairing hyunjin and felix for the same shift was the second worst decision chan and woojin have ever made, then this was the absolute worst.

poor woojin has some of the most extra boys closing with him...

but he wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to do the job.

from dinner to closing, there was about an hour of chill time, where not many customers were in the cafe.

but the boys used this hour to prepare for the rush that would come in without any warning.

jisung was both fast and efficient when taking and making orders, so he was perfect for this shift.

but with the time he saved with his efficiency, he often talked with the boys or the customers and got distracted.

but woojin didn't mind too much because he his friendliness brought in a lot of tips.

although all the boys are handsome in their own ways, the customers tended to gravitate towards and fawn over jisung a little bit more.

it was so noticeable that jisung liked to use it to his advantage in order to milk out some tips.

"here's your order! you beautiful ladies have a wonderful day ~"

"you're so weird..." changbin often teased.

"as if you don't do the same, hypocrite."

you hated that your classes aligned inconveniently with cafe glow's busy hours because you were always stuck with one of the smaller tables with all of you stuff sprawled out.

today, you had been at the cafe for a couple of hours now and wanted something to drink.

it was pretty late and there was no way you wanted coffee, so water would do just fine.

except the line was going impossibly slow.

the other boys were busy making the orders while you saw one talking with a group of girls in front of you, laughing and flirting away.

you weren't angry at the group for having some fun - in fact, you wish you had the courage to flirt around like that, too - it's just that you had a lot of work to do tonight still and waiting in this line wasn't helping your frustration one bit.

the look on your face must have been a sight to see because woojin had to kick jisung to get his attention.

"hey, can you stop flirting for one whole second to help her?" woojin scolded.

"oh, i'm sorry!" he said, rushing over to you. "what would ya like?"

"can i just get a cup of water?" you asked.

"water? that's it!? you don't want any coffee or tea or anything fun?" he teased lightly, flashing you a toothy grin.

"no thanks, i had coffee earlier."

"nonsense, you can't just drink water here at cafe glow! tell you what, let me make you something, and it’s my treat for making you wait so long."

"oh no, that's ok -"

but jisung had already started making your drink before you could finish your sentence.

why was he so persistent!? literally all you wanted was to get a cup of water to refresh yourself and get back to your work, but of course, this boy had to throw off your flow.

you weren’t surprised though, to be honest. your barista looked like someone who would be spontaneous like that.

at least you didn’t have to pay for it.

“here’s your free drink!” he called out.

you took the cup of what you assumed to be some fruity iced tea. it was just the right amount of refreshing to kick you awake, but you really could have survived with just water.

“thanks for this. it’s really good.”

“no problem!!”

“but can i also get a cup of water anyways?”

“eh? for what?”

"so i don’t have to come up and go through this again.”

yikes, that sounded a bit harsher than you intended, but you were just being honest!

you heard woojin and changbin hold back their laughter behind the counter.

with a noticeable pout, jisung went to go get the water you so desired, and now you felt bad...

so you tipped them the same amount that the iced tea cost.

“thank you,” you repeated to jisung, hoping you sounded nicer than before.

“wow, she was completely unaffected by The Han Charm™,” changbin noted. “that’s a first.”

“yeah, what the hell...” he muttered.

“never mind the matter, she tipped us a lot! i like her,” said woojin.

you made a really big impact on jisung with your unimpressed attitude because he couldn’t focus the rest of the night.

he hoped that maybe his anxiousness would disappear as soon as you left the cafe, but you stayed until they closed and had to kick everyone out.

it was a wonder how you were so unaffected by his boyish charm. you were the first to resist it and jisung just couldn’t accept that fact.

maybe he just wasn’t your type? but that was completely ridiculous because jisung was everyone’s type, right!? or so he assumed.

he’ll get to you one day. he’ll make sure of it.

you’ll be smiling, laughing, and blushing all because of him in no time.

you came in again a couple of days later, right after the same inconveniently-timed class.

jisung was busy wiping down a table for a group of giggly girls near the entrance when he saw you walk in and immediately ditched the task to run up behind the counter before one of the other boys could take your order.

you were startled by his urgency.

“what’s up?” he said, panting slightly. “what can i get for you?”

“just a cafe au lait, please.”

“oh, that’s my favorite, too! cafe au lait all day.”

...

did he just rap your order to you?

you cock a brow at jisung in amusement. admittedly, it was very cute and on the inside you wanted to burst out laughing, but that would give away the mysterious demeanor you held, wouldn’t it?

jisung sighed in defeat.

“i’ll go get that for you...”

“thank you ~”

you went to find the best table that was available before you were stuck with another tiny one like last time, but alas, no luck for you.

the barista boy came over with your drink and you thanked him once more and usually workers in food service would get back to work after helping a customer.

but not this one.

this one dared to sit down across from you and stay there after he handed you your drink.

“uh... do you need something from me...?” you asked.

“no! i just wanted to talk,” he began. “so how was your day?”

did your barista really say that he ‘just wanted to talk’?

what was he getting at?

“my day was good...?” even to you, that sounded like a question rather than an answer.

“oh yeah? what did you do today?”

“i went to class and now i’m here.”

“class isn’t fun, so that can’t be the reason why you’re day went well. ah, it must be because you’re here with me, right?” he asked, giving you a flirtatious smirk.

“you’re right.” jisung’s face immediately brightened when he heard you agree. “i love coffee a lot, so that’s definitely the only reason why.”

his face dropped again to a deep pout and you almost feel bad about how much you were enjoying messing with him.

almost.

“how about you? how has your day been?” you asked.

“h-huh?”

in all the times that jisung had been talking to and flirting with his customers, they would usually flirt back or the conversation was just a lot of back and forth complimenting and never had much substance to them.

but none of the customers had ever shown any genuine politeness by simply asking how his day went, too.

and it was coming from you, of all customers, who looked like you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

why were you so mysterious like that!? it wasn’t fair!

“i asked you how your day was,” you repeated, not looking up from your notes on your laptop screen. “i promise i’m listening - i can multitask.”

“oh, am i bothering you?”

jisung could feel his palms start to sweat from being so nervous. you made him extremely nervous because you were so intimidating and he was definitely not used to being around someone like you.

it was kind of exciting for him.

“no,” you shrugged. “i’m almost done.”

“o-oh, well in that case, my day was just all right.”

“that doesn’t sound good.”

“yeah... i woke up late and missed one of my discussion classes that takes attendance.”

“yikes, that’s not good at all.”

“i know. but my day became a lot better now.”

“oh, yeah? that’s good.”

for the first time, you looked up and smiled at him and it made his heart leap into his throat.

“is it because you like working here?” you asked.

“u-uh, yeah! i like it here a lot, actually. i get to meet a bunch of amazing people.”

“me, too.”

your days at cafe glow never changed.

you came in at the same time on the same days for the entire semester and each day was spent almost entirely with jisung, give or take the moments when he actually had to work and help customers and what not.

your time with him was also pretty routine, which mostly consisted of you doing homework or easy note taking that could easily be paired with talking with jisung.

it was surprising how well you two got along.

you thought he was just some flirty asshole who wouldn’t stop bothering you until you gave him your number.

but he really genuinely enjoyed meeting new people and getting to know them, even if you were one of the more difficult customers.

everyone in the cafe could tell how close you two were becoming.

especially all of his frequent regulars, who tried to keep him busy with them until they left the cafe.

“i don’t think they like me,” you scoffed as he rushed back to sit with you.

jisung missed the group of girls glaring at you before walking out the door.

“don’t mind them ~ they just want me all to themselves, that’s all ~ my customers tend to get jealous, but don’t worry! i’ll protect you!”

“oh? can’t imagine why they’d all fight over you,” you teased.

“hey, i’m trying to defend you and all you do is tease me!?”

“i’d hardly call that defending.”

“well anyways... don’t mind them, ok? so what if they don’t like you? i like you, and that’s all that matters.”

a short laugh escaped his lips and jisung thought his ears were deceiving him.

could it be that you actually laughed at something he said...!?

“i like you, too.”

“you’re in love with me, aren’t you?”

“thanks, you ruined it.”

as the semester came to a close, you had to break the news to jisung that your schedule for next semester would be completely different and you wouldn’t be able to see him during his shift anymore.

the weight of your words felt heavy and sank to the pit of his stomach.

it sounded like you were saying good bye to him, as if you’d never see him again.

you were the only customer left in the cafe just minutes before closing time when you told jisung.

he stood right in front of you, worry written all over his adorable face.

“but i’ll see you around though, right...?”

“i can try stopping in from time to time, but i don’t think our schedules match up. i have morning classes, so i don’t have a reason to study here at night anymore.”

“then just come to see me.”

“wouldn’t i be bothering you while you’re working?”

“i can multitask,” he winked, quoting your own words. “besides, it’s not like you haven’t been bothering me at work even when you’re just studying ~”

“if you want me to keep coming in just so you can see me, just say so ~” you teased.

“i do,” jisung admitted. “i want you to keep coming in so i can keep seeing you. please?”

jisung couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the blush creep up on your cheeks. with a confident smile, he dared to push it further.

“i’d miss you a lot.”

all of the unwavering confidence that jisung witnessed throughout the entire semester went out the cafe doors when you buried your blushing face in your hands to hide your embarrassment.

“ah, you’re so cute ~!” he gushed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“fine, i’ll come in as much as i can...!”

“i’ll hold you to that, you know.”

“i’ll give you my number so you can hold me accountable.”

“wow, i didn’t even have to ask you for your number? i knew it, you’re in love with me.”

“shut up, oh my god.”

[cakesunflower]

Sugar Coated Pain [Boxer!Calum AU] Ch. 3

All Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Epilogue | BONUS CHAPTER

Chapter 3

“I STILL FEEL bad, leaving you here by yourself,” Noelle worried, willing herself not to chew on her lips so she didn’t eat off the lipstick staining them.

Her seventeen year old sister rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I’m gonna be fine, Elle,” Andrea insisted. “I just found out Amazon Prime has all the seasons of Bones on it so I’m gonna binge watch the crap out of that and order food that I’m gonna eat until I pass out. It’s gonna be a fun night.”

Beverly descended the stairs that led right into the living room the other two were in. “Since when do you have an Amazon Prime account?”

Andrea grinned impishly. “Mom got sick of me begging for it and gave in. Perks of being the paraplegic child.”

Both Beverly and Noelle scoffed and rolled their eyes, used to Andrea using her disability as a way of getting what she wanted, though Andrea didn’t even have to use that as an excuse because they all babied her anyway. Still, Noelle and Beverly couldn’t help but shake their head in amusement as Andrea giggled giddily. She’s been paralyzed for three years now, and at this point she was fully capable of cracking jokes about her being confined to a wheelchair.

It had been a tragic accident, one involving Andrea and their father and a drunk driver, in which Mr. Simon died on impact and the driver was imprisoned for driving under the influence. It was one of the toughest times for Noelle and her family, trying to deal with their dad’s death and helping the youngest of the family adjust to a life in a wheelchair. For the longest time Andrea was angry at everything in the world—for the loss of their dad and for the loss of feeling below her waist—and it wasn’t until a year and a half after the accident where Andrea cracked the first joke in regards of her being a paraplegic.

“Okay, but if you need anything, call either of us, alright?” Noelle told Andrea with a raise of her eyebrows, unplugging her phone from the charger by the couch.

The seventeen year old nodded before waving her sisters off, telling them to leave already. It wasn’t often that the girls left Andrea alone at the house; their mom had long hours at the hospital and while Andrea was fully capable of taking care of herself, they still worried over her. They couldn’t help it; she was their baby sister. They’d been taking care of her long before she was ever paralyzed.

“So what’s Ashton throwing this party for?” Noelle asked once she and Beverly slid into the backseat of the Uber, leaning her back against the door as she faced her sister.

Beverly ran her fingers through her blonde hair to push it back. “Cal won every match he had this week so Ash sometimes throws a little celebration type thing. Obviously no one really knows the real reason for the parties because of what Cal does but, you know, still fun,” she explained with a shrug before grinning happily. “Now that you’re back in town, I finally have someone to go with!”

Noelle smiled wryly, pulling her phone out to scroll through social media. “Joy,” she dryly responded, though she was fine with accompanying Beverly.

Truly, Noelle was never opposed to a night out when she really wanted to go and from what Beverly has told her, Ashton’s parties or get-togethers were always a fun time, so it was time Noelle attended one. Though, the fact that this particular party was for Calum, meaning he would be there, had Noelle’s gut twisting nervously. Obviously, she hasn’t seen him since she met him the first time three nights ago, but Noelle wasn’t going to forget the disgruntled way he looked at her. She could only hope he wouldn’t be irritated by her presence and make her feel embarrassed once more.

If she was someone else, it would be enough for her to reject the invitation, but Calum was too handsome for Noelle to not want to just get a glimpse of him again. Was that desperate? Maybe.

They arrived to Ashton’s apartment in SoHo within fifteen minutes, getting rung in through the front security desk by Ashton and using the elevator to go to the fourth floor. When they walked in through the unlocked door, Noelle couldn’t help but notice how nice Ashton’s apartment was, having never been there before. Large windows and slanted ceilings with lights embedded in them, and sleek wood floors. Ashton was a general manager at a popular gym in Manhattan and he earned a pretty penny, and his residence showed that in the least obnoxious way possible.

There was music playing at an appropriate, non-deafening volume and there were a bunch of people hanging around with drinks in their hands as they talked and mingled. Noelle was relieved to see it wasn’t like a literal house party, many of which she attended during high school and college, and that everyone here seemed much more relaxed yet enjoying their time.

“They’re in the kitchen,” Beverly said, nodding towards the left of the apartment before leading her sister over. Noelle noticed Beverly waving and saying hi to a few people as they walked, already familiar with almost everyone there as they entered the kitchen.

“You’re here!” Came Ashton’s cheery voice and Noelle easily caught sight of the dirty blonde haired man as he moved his way around the center counter that was full of different types of alcoholic bottles, weaving past a few people that were lingering about. He reached them hugging and kissing Beverly with a grin. “Hiya, Noelle, I’m happy you’re here,” he added genuinely, pulling the younger girl for a surprise hug.

Noelle couldn’t help but smile as she returned the hug before pulling away. “I can never say no to free drinks, you know,” she teased.

Ashton giggled before nodding towards the counter. “What’ll you have?”

Before Noelle could answer, Beverly said to him, “Oh, make her a tequila sunrise.” To Noelle, she smiled, “He’s an expert at making that drink. So good.”

Not one to say no to a good drink, Noelle merely nodded and smiled in agreement as Ashton moved towards the counter to make two of them for the girls. As he did so, Beverly leaned forward on the counter opposite of Ashton as she asked, “Where are the others?”

As Ashton picked up the bottle of orange juice, he hummed, “Michael and Luke are around here somewhere and Cal stepped out for a smoke.”

Noelle tilted her head slightly as Beverly quirked a brow. “Isn’t he trying to quit?”

Ashton snorted. “Trying be the key term. We all know Cal’s not one to quit easily.”

“Stop talking shit about me behind my back, mate.”

Noelle felt her back straighten at the deep voice sounding behind her, watching from the corner of her eye as Calum appeared next to Beverly on the side of the counter diagonal of Noelle. Her gaze remained on him, taking in his simple outfit of black jeans and a white shirt with a black leather jacket on top, her thoughts immediately consisting of how damn good he looked. She watched as Calum reached for the stack of cups before pouring in whatever drink was mixed in a glass bottle, her eyes going to the tattoos on his hands, the silver bracelets on each wrist and the chunky rings on his fingers. A man’s hands should not look as good as Calum’s did.

“I’m not talking shit!” Ashton defended with a high pitched laugh before handing Noelle and Beverly their cups. “Just, you know. . . Complimenting you on your determination.”

Calum scoffed, looking away from Ashton to his left as he brought the cups to his lips. “Bullshit.”

It was when he turned his head when Noelle spotted the bruise that was blooming on his cheek, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of it. Dark blue and purple in color yet not too big in size, right on the side of his face near his jaw and she couldn’t help but wince slightly, thinking of the punch that was the cause of it. If almost everyone here didn’t know about Calum’s fighting, what did he tell them if they asked about his bruise?

“Oh, shit, ouch,” Beverly’s eyes widened, leaning forward slightly as she looked at the black haired boy’s face. Apparently she wasn’t hesitant on bringing up the bruise like Noelle was. “That looks like it hurts.”

Calum’s eyes flickered over to her, throat working as he swallowed his drink without complaint and lowered the cup. “Nothin’ I’m not used to,” was his reply, the corner of his lips curling smugly. Then his eyes shifted over slightly, finally landing on Noelle as she took a sip of her admittedly delicious drink. “Noelle, right?”

Honestly, Noelle was surprised that she didn’t choke on her sip as Calum addressed her, taking her by surprise as she swallowed her drink. Tequila always warmed her up easily, despite it being mixed or not, but she was sure the warmth spreading up her neck had more to do with the pair of dark brown eyes staring at her rather than her drink. “Um, yeah,” she stumbled out, mentally cursing herself for sounding unsure. “Hi.”

Calum merely nodded in return, making Noelle bristle slightly—how could a subtle action make her feel so unwelcome, and why did she care so much?—until Beverly spoke up. “Congrats on your wins, Cal,” she smiled, holding her cup out to him as she dramatically added, “You’ve made me proud.”

The tall, curly haired boy snorted, lifting his eyebrows at her as he responded, “It’s why I do it.”

                                                      ♔♔♔♔♔

Calum raised unimpressed eyebrows as he stared at his two best friends, who were singing a Queen song terribly and totally off-key, as he sat on Ashton’s couch with his legs spread and a red cup in his hand. Though they weren’t singing all too well, Ashton and Luke were definitely entertaining everyone here with their rendition of We Are The Champions. Calum knew getting Ashton that karaoke machine for Christmas would be a bad idea.

As Luke and Ashton started the second verse, an arm wrapped around the other as Ashton held the mic in his right hand and Luke held his cup in his left, Calum couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle. Everyone around was laughing and recording the two of them, and Calum shook his head in amusement as Ashton and Luke swayed while singing. The party was a few hours in and his friends were a few drinks in, and Calum was surprised either one of them was staying upright.

His gaze flickered around the room before ultimately landing on a face he’s seen twice now. Noelle stood leaning against the wall that separated the kitchen and living room, a bottle of beer in hand after switching it from the liquor and a wide grin on her face that showed off dimples Calum wasn’t aware she had, as her eyes remained on Ashton and Luke. Just like everyone else, she was wildly entertained by the show the two idiots were putting on, her mouth forming soundless words whenever she spoke to Beverly.

Calum’s eyes trailed up her figure, taking in the exposure of her legs due to the blue shorts she wore and the way her pale yellow, form fitting tank top hugged her tightly. He attempted to ignore the tightening in his jeans at the sight of her slender neck, wondering what it’d be like to have his hand wrapped around it and lips pressed against the skin. Calum wasn’t afraid to admit he had similar thoughts the moment he saw her after stepping off the ring, wondering who the hell she was and what she was doing at his match, but he wasn’t going to voice his desires about Noelle after just meeting her. Especially not to Beverly or Ashton.

“That was for my man Calum Hood!” Ashton’s voice rang through the house thanks to the karaoke machine speakers, drawing the Australian’s attention back to his friends who had apparently finished the song already and everyone broke out into cheers. Calum’s eyebrows shot up once more in amusement as Ashton gestured to him with one hand and pressed his other to his chest. “The champion of my heart.”

Despite himself, Calum couldn’t help but let out a laugh at Ashton’s words, shaking his head as he lifted his cup to his two laughing friends in cheers, shaking his head before taking a sip of the hunch punch. “You’re ridiculous, mate,” Calum announced after swallowing his drink. Still, he found the gesture nice.

About an hour or so later, after Calum finished sipping at his first cup of mixed drink and was now nursing another one, he made his way towards the bathroom in the hallway. He may have taken small sips of his drinks as an attempt to uselessly stall the effect of the alcohol he was consuming, but he still had to really fucking pee.

Which was frustrating because the bathroom door was locked. “For fuck’s sake,” Calum cursed under his breath, wishing that Ashton had more than one bathroom in his place. Raising his free hand, Calum rapped sharply and impatiently on the door with his knuckles. “Others have to use the bathroom, too!”

Okay, so he may be slightly tipsy and raised his voice a bit louder than necessary, garnering the attention of the few people lingering in the hallway, though he paid them no mind. He was too focused on making sure he didn’t piss his damn pants right there. Calum let out a groan when no one on the other side responded, clenching his jaw and leaning his forehead against the wooden door, eyes shut in exasperation.

But then the door suddenly swung open, and Calum lost all sense of his fighting agility as he stumbled forward at the lack of support, eyes shooting wide open. His free hand shot out to grasp the door frame, but not before the contents of his full cup sloshed and a good chunk of his beverage spilled out.

A startled gasp sounded in front of him, and Calum looked up in surprise to see Noelle standing in the bathroom, her hazel eyes widened as she remained frozen. For a brief moment, he wondered if she looked so startled because he was standing there, but then his eyes trailed down and caught sight of her pale top and blue shorts darkened by the reddish-purple drink he had been consuming.

“Oh, my God,” Noelle breathed out, stunned at the sudden cold wetness on her front. She looked down, taking in the drink that had spilled on her right below her collarbone, effectively wetting her skin and staining her light colored clothes. It was wet and sticky.

Calum, too, was staring at what he accidentally caused, gaze lingering on the area right above her breasts that was glistening with the drink, forcing himself to break his stare when he realized who those ridiculously nice pair of breasts belong to. “Give a guy a warning next time, will you?” he practically snapped, immediately defaulting to his usual cold demeanor.

Noelle’s head snapped up, eyebrows lifting in surprise as her mouth dropped open with a scoff. Sure, she was a bit shaken at the fact that it was Calum who spilled his drink on her, but why was he the one with the attitude in this situation? “Are you kidding?” she let out a short disbelieving laugh. “You’re the one who spilled his drink on me!”

Calum dropped his hand from the door frame, straightening to stand at his full height and fighting the smug smirk that threatened to grow when he noticed Noelle’s throat work nervously as her gaze flickered up to maintain eye contact. “You’re the one who opened the damn door out of nowhere.”

Was he serious? “Because you were knocking and yelling on the other side!” Noelle countered, bringing her fingers to the front of her tank to pull the tight material away from her skin. She let out a small groan—her clothes were totally going to be stained now. A glare furrowed her brows as she looked up at Calum, completely forgetting that this guy definitely intimidated her as she demanded, “What were you even doing, leaning against the door like that? This is your fault.”

He seriously didn’t have time for this. Sure, Calum felt kind of bad for spilling his drink on Noelle, but that didn’t come anywhere near as the urgency he felt for needing to use the damn bathroom. And, yeah, he knew it was his fault for leaning against the door and losing his balance but apologizing wasn’t in Calum’s nature, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Grunting, Calum reached forward and placed his half empty cup on the sink right next to Noelle before shrugging off the leather jacket he wore. It was his favorite jacket, with two white stripes running down the length of the sleeves, but he begrudgingly put that aside as he held it out to Noelle, who blinked at the piece of apparel in confusion. Impatiently, Calum shook it and said through gritted teeth, “Just wear it over your clothes for now and get out of the damn bathroom, for shit’s sake. I have to piss.”

Immediately Noelle’s face scrunched up in mild disgust but when she took in the irritated expression Calum wore, mixed with the bruise on his cheek, she clamped her mouth shut and took the offered jacket with a somewhat shaky hand. He was lending her his jacket?

When she took it, Calum stepped aside and waved his hand, raising his eyebrows as he silently gestured for her to get the hell out. Noelle swallowed inaudibly before shuffling through the narrow doorway, catching a whiff of whatever cologne Calum wore over the pungent stench of the alcohol she was wearing, and wincing slightly when the door slammed shut behind her.

Calum let out a relieving sigh once he flushed and zipped up his pants, washing his hands as he stared at himself in the mirror. He turned his head to the left, hands still running under the cold water, as he assessed the bruise on his cheek. It still hurt when his facial muscles moved a certain way, and every time Calum felt that sting of pain he also felt a surge of anger for letting Underwood get that hit in in the first place. It was a slip on Calum’s part, lost in a thinking strategy during the fight a second too long and not seeing Underwood’s left hook coming for him, but managing to return the favor by knocking him the fuck out. It was a lucky shot on Underwood’s part and Calum was determined to not let it happen again.

Grunting, Calum grabbed his drink and drained the rest of it in the sink before dropping the cup in the trash before shutting off the faucet and drying his hands. When he left the bathroom, he realized that Noelle wasn’t in the hallway anymore and made his way back to the living room. And when he did, Calum couldn’t help the way he froze when his eyes somehow, almost immediately, landed on Noelle.

She was standing by the window talking to Michael and their friend Dominique, and Calum’s adam’s apple bobbed in his throat at the sight of her wearing his jacket. Her short and slimmer figure had the jacket practically enveloping her, the sleeves too long and shoulders hanging off hers. But what really had Calum taking in a sharp breath was the fact that the jacket was so long on Noelle that it made it seem like, zipped up, it was all she was wearing. Her legs looked even more appealing than they already did. The jacket was like a fucking dress Calum had the sudden urge to rip right off of her.

She should not be looking as good as she does in his jacket.

Calum huffed. He shouldn’t have thrown away his drink.

tags: @aphroditebeautyshit @modelukes @cartiercalum @candidcalum @tothemoonmikey @perfectlycake @cakestan @lukesback @polarizehood @luke2k18 @vaporlewk @biggestslutforcalum @kinkycorbyn @nostalgia-luke @captain-what-is-going-on @hoodstations @calumamore

[moonraccoon-exe]

Hello Coon. I hope you’ve been well. I had the most amusing thought, and wanted to share: Do you remember that ATLA episode where they went to watch a play about themselves? In an AU where no one dies or gets thrown off of trains or goes blind... Imagine that in the context of chocobros + Luna, Ravus, Aranea on their way to Zegnautus. - 💚, Amontillado

Dear Amontillado.

This idea alone made me transcend to the ninth heaven. It made my soul detach from my body and ascend to the heavens, it touched the Nirvana, and came back to my body purified and amplified.

This. Goddamn. Genius. Idea.

*SLAMS HANDS ON DESK*

I had to write this. This is one of my most recent asks, but it’s just so genuinely brilliant and gloriously genius, I have this mighty necessity to write it right now aklsjdfklsgj aklsdjsklgj akljalskd ja.

The best part of this is that the main four and Ravus fit SO WELL with some of the ATLA characters, I could write parts of that episode as the script literally goes and it would fit accurately and nicely!!! Hahahahahhaha!!! I hope you’ll find the similarities! ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡

Anyway, a few things to note here for things to make sense,

I picture Ignis did go blind at some point but later recovered. Let’s say we’re following some sort of Verse 2 from episode Ignis but with Lunafreya not dying, lmao.

I’ve made Cor be present too like he should have always been.

Regis and Clarus too because I don’t have the heart to kill them.

Because it’s Verse 2, Ravus has been in the party from before rescuing Ignis (who…let’s suppose they rescued somewhere else prior to Zegnautus. For some…reason.)

Luna’s coming along with them, too.

If at some point you’re reading something and think “is that an Aggretsuko reference?” know that yes. It is.

I goddamn shoved some almost-established Gladnis in here because fuck me, I can’t contain myself, they’re just so genuinely canon askljddkgjdaa

Alright.

Now everybody welcome to,

Final Fantasy XV, Episode 17, “The Gralea Players”.

A.K.A. a parody of ATLA’s famous already-parody episode “The Ember Island Players” adapted to our FFXV dorks plus some extra guests.

Enjoy!!

Everything starts at one of Ravus’ personal places in Gralea that he used to hide away or train. He’s training with Noct, trying to teach him how to defend himself against his lightning arm. Everyone is bored or watching or scattered across the little house.

At some point, Prompto comes in running, and as everyone’s greeting him, someone appears after him.

“Aranea?”

“Hey, dorks.”

Long story short, Prommy stumbled upon Aranea while he was out grocery shopping.

“And she has epic news! Tell them, Nea!”

Turns out Aranea found out that the local theatre prepared and will present a play about Noctis’ journey.

“Hah? Me? But we’re in the empire, why would they make a play about me?”

“Nooooooooct! We have to go! They did research across the globe to write the script, and it involves MTs, hunters, mechs, dogs, and a very knowledgeable merchant of Cup Noodles. Say yes, please, please!!”

No one is pretty convinced. They’re in enemy territory and it would be suicide to throw themselves there where people could recognize them.

But Noctis can’t say no to Prompto’s huge puppy eyes.

So in the end everyone ends up going to this play, “The King of Light.”

At least the title isn’t bad or mocking, but they still try to not get their hopes up. Knowing the Nifs, they may have done something offensive, so they’re mentally prepared for that and just curious.

Later that night, everyone of our team goes to the local Nif theatre, and the show starts.

They enter and get seats on the back as to go as unnoticed as possible.

On the front row, Noctis sits, then Prompto next to him, then Ignis.

As Gladio tries to sit next to him, Ravus unknowingly takes that seat.

“…hey. Uhm. I…wanted to sit there.”

Ravus: “(absolutely oblivious, this DORK) Just sit next to me. What’s the big deal?”

“…no, it’s not- I just wanted…okay.”

The curtain raises to show a representation of the throne room of the Citadel, where we can see the actors of king Regis on his throne, and the four chocobros.

“And so, may you part with my blessing to meet your bewedded, Lady Lunafreya.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

So far so good. Actor Regis gives his speech and bids goodbye to the four young men.

As soon as Actor-Regis is done, Prompto grabs Noctis by the shoulder and shakes him, grinning from ear to ear and pointing at the actors, then himself and Noctis, then back at the actors, in clear excitement.

Noctis can’t help but smile as well, thinking it kind of cool to see an act about themselves.

And then going “downstairs”, actor Prompto clumsily trips and falls over in a comical way.

The audience laughs.

“What?” Prompto whispers. “That never happened!”

“Haha! My fault! I can be a little dumb!” actor Prompto talks with a slightly annoying voice. “Nocto! Help me up?”

“You, useless thing” actor Noctis says while helping him up. “You’re completely useless and not worthy of being in presence of royalty, but I take you along in this journey to fulfill my journey anyway because you’re funny.”

“The only thing I want to fill is my mouth! I’m hungry!”

The audience laughs again, but Noct and Prompto are petrified in their seats. Noctis turns to look at Prompto worriedly. Prompto later on just pouts and sink in his seat, crossing the arms.

“They make me look like an idiotic failed attempt of a joker! I’m better than that.”

Ravus is chuckling under his breath.

“I think he’s got you pegged.”

Prompto swears Ravus is lucky Ignis is sat in between them.

The actors are displayed walking away of the Citadel, where actor Regis catches up with them.

“Oh my god, he’s going to say the thing I told you, Noctis” Regis is whispering in the row behind.

So far, they depict the scene pretty accurately.

“Omg he’s going to say it.”

Then, actor Regis puts a hand on actor Noctis’ shoulder.

“Oh my god, here it comes”

And actor Regis says,

“Don’t fail, my son.”

“What?”

The gang has to turn around to shush Regis because they’re supposed to not call the attention.

Regis is shrinking and cringing in his seat containing all his screaming.

The scenes go on but the gang can’t hear anything but Regis’ whispered complaints.

“I didn’t say that! I didn’t say that! Oh my god, there is a HUGE difference between Walk Tall and Don’t Fail, the context and intention are entirely different, I didn’t tell him to not fail, that implies so much pressure and it’s not support, it’s an order, I just asked him to be brave and to keep the head up, it’s entirely different from Don’t Fail. Don’t fail. He said don’t fail,what sort of awful father is he oh my god.”

They depict Actor Prompto to have ruined the Regalia by spilling soda all over the wheel in an exaggerated comical motion.

“Fantastic, Prompto! Couldn’t you just shove it in your mouth instead of throwing it all over our electronic modern car?” actor Gladio asks in a SUPER AGGRESSIVE and super deep voice.

“I’m sorry! But I guess now you can call this, Fast Food!”

There’s a drum roll and the audience laughs. Prompto just shrinks more in his seat hiding it in his hands and groaning.

The actors are trying to push the cardboard car.

“WHAT ARE YOU LAZY ASSES DOING, KEEP PUSHING, KEEP PUSHING UNTIL YOUR FEET BLEED AND YOUR MUSCLES CRY OUT IN PAIN!” actor Gladio is screeching everything he says. “FLEX. FLEX THOSE MUSCLES. TODAY IS LEG DAY. GET UP AND KEEP PUSHING! FLEX! PROTEIN! GYM!”

Gladio stares unimpressed.

“I certainly don’t yell like that all the time.”

Ravus is chuckling louder than before, almost near a proper laugh.

“That actor’s got you right, Gladiolus. Stop complaining.”

Gladio just growls.

“NOCTIS. WHERE IS YOUR SPIRIT? FLEX! PROTEIN! KEEP PUSHING!”

Actor Noctis is on the ground.

“I’ll do it later, Big Guy. I’m sleeping.”

“Hey, not true” Noctis complains. “I didn’t sleep. I rested a bit, but didn’t sleep.”

“HEY IGNIS. TELL HIM TO GET UP.”

“Your most estimated superior Highness, Noctis Lucis Caelum, son of Regis, son of Mors, 114th of the name of the Lucis, prince of the kingdom of Lucis, heir to the throne” actor Ignis is saying in an overly exaggerated Tenebraean accent and exaggeratedly pompous. “I shall request, with all due respect, you get up from the place you’re attempting to sleep in and do lend a hand to us commoners, for we don’t have the strength to go on without you. My prince. My liege. My protected. My dear brother and friend.”

Ignis stares unimpressed and sort of embarrassed.

“…I certainly am not that pompous or formal. Even less with my friends.”

Ravus is chuckling again.

We see the guys through Hammerhead and Galdin Quay, through the news of the Fall of Insomnia and back to the place from where they see the destruction, etcetera; overall, Prompto is depicted as a damsel in distress, a klutz that’s always giving bad jokes and tripping over, Gladio is a giant brainless gym dude that keeps yelling, Ignis is an overly formal android, and Noctis is always asleep (even mid-battles, and usually being carried around by Ignis).

They go to meet Cor.

Actor Cor is poker-faced. The entire time. He responds mechanically and in monosyllables. When he joins the fight, he moves like a robot.

The actors go to search for the first royal weapon.

Actor Prompto keeps telling jokes and Actor Gladio keeps bullying him.

Actor Cor only reacts when obligatory.

“They make it look like I’m more dead than a corpse” Cor says. No one in the gang says anything.

…only Regis chuckles a bit after a second and this earns him a glare of embarrassment from Cor.

Inside the dungeon, actor Prompto fainted out of fear.

“Hey, I’m not that scaredy!”

Ravus is still chuckling.

When they depict Noctis getting the first royal arm, the paper prop stabs him in the chest; actor Noctis exaggeratedly shrieks out and collapses.

“Oh no! Is he dead?”

“No. He just likes to nap at 1 o’clock.”

The audience laughs, and our gang is entirely unimpressed.

“…you know, it does hurt a bit when that happens. They shouldn’t joke with that”

Actor Monica leads Actor Noct to the infiltration to open the gates with Cor.

Oh no. They remember this part! The part with the tiny annoying brat of an imperial officer. That very short guy that didn’t shut up.

Oh no. Here he comes. One annoying and tiny…

“Well, wELL! IF IT’S ISN’T COR THE IMMORTAL!”

And suddenly, on stage, appears Actor Loqi….

…he’s a GIANT BOULDER OF A MAN.

LIKE, SO BIG AND SO STRONG. GIANT BUILT-UP ARMS AND BACK AND MUSCLES. THE MAN IS ALL BEEF AND STRENGTH.

“So you survived the Citadel! But you won’t survive what I, Loqi the Great Tummelt, have in store for you!”

“Wait a minute. Wasn’t that guy like…shorter and skinnier than me?” Prompto asks.

Cor is laughing.

He’s having so much fun staring at the scene, holy fuck, you should see him laugh and cover his eyes and mouth while watching this.

The actor chocobros are suffering at the hands of actor Loqi, whose cardboard mech keeps smashing them and tossing them around.

“Get away!” actor Cor is yelling. “This is too dangerous for you! Only I, Cor Leonis, the Immortal, Lucian Marshal, am capable of defeating him! This is a fight that belongs to us and only us! My eternal enemy! My personal opponent! My arch-nemesis! Loqi the Great Tummelt!”

Cor is still laughing so much.

“Who the fuck is that, oh my god, I don’t remember him, who spread the rumor that he was my arch-nemesis, wasn’t he like an inch tall, ahahaha!”

Skip to the travel to Lestallum.

Actress Iris phones actor Noctis.

“Oh, my celestial prince! My hero. My beloved Noctis. I am delighted and my heart is so full of hope and light now that I hear your dear voice and I know you’re alright and alive more than only in my heart. I wait for you, my dear heroic prince, in Lestallum. I shall wait for you however long it takes; the wait will be worth, so long it’s about you, my darling.”

“Wow, that actress is making it look like Iris likes me like, like-likes me, haha.”

The whole gang either stares at Noct in disbelief or just sigh because holy fuck, Iris could smack him in the face with a brick that says “I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU” and Noctis still wouldn’t notice, this oblivious absolute DORK.

“I know the potential future princess of Lucis and only sister and dear family of Gladio just called to tell us she survived after many days with no notice of her or anyone…but what about instead of going to meet her we go to see the chocobo ranch?”

Lunafreya chuckles.

“Oh my. They really are depicting you guys as idiotic, stupid, childish immature dorks, you would never do such a thing like changing Iris and all your dear ones to go see chocobos first.”

The main four stay quiet and all try to not share any glance and they all go “uh…yeah, haha, that is…definitely right, we-didn’t do that, this- this play is so silly…”

…but Ravus chuckles again.

Ravus knows.

These dorks really did that, lmao.

There’s more about hunts and going into the dungeon in the waterfall cave and etc. Prompto keeps fainting and shrieking and making awful jokes, Gladio keeps yelling and flexing and stopping at random spots to do push-ups, Ignis keeps doing everything almost as if coreographed and on perfect timing, and Noctis keeps sleeping at random times.

There’s no actor Ardyn; no one but the bros have idea that he’s been the one helping. In the play he’s just the “Mysterious redhair hat guy”.

Redhair guy guides them to Cauthess Disc.

Actor Prompto made the tomb collapse, actor Gladio kept destroying boulders with bare hands and carrying an asleep Noctis through it, and actor Ignis just for some reason kept saying “Indubitably” at everything he heard.

For the Titan fight, they used puppets to depict the bros and the MTs and a person disguised in a Titan Kigurumi. This person ended up stumbling and falling midways through it.

They lost the Regalia and everything was fine and accurate to the story until the actor chocobros stOLE A CAR BECAUSE “THEY CAN’T GO ON THEIR FEET SORRY”.

Regis asked Noctis at least twenty times in the next 10 minutes “you really didn’t do that, right? Did you guys really steal a car? Hey Noct, I believe in you but you can tell me in all trust, okay, no worries if you did steal that car. Did you steal a car? Omg Noctis.”

They went to get Ramuh’s blessing.

In the cave, actor Prompto was kidnapped by a giant Naga, and actor Noctis had to rescue him.

Actor Gladio kept throwing giant prop boulders at the Naga and screaming “PROTEIN” while actor Ignis kept balleting around it for some reason.

“…do you ballet, Ignis?”

Ignis’ silence had been enough of an answer, but after a moment of blushing and embarrassment and staring elsewhere he just went with “…I think it’s recreative and helped greatly with developing my flexibility and my muscle weight and strength.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“Yes. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. I just can’t imagine you in a leotard.”

“And you won’t imagine it, pretty boy, so stop trying.”

That’s Gladio getting a bit jealous over there. He doesn’t want Jerkvus to imagine his Iggy in his precious purple leotard, THAT’S A SIGHT HE’S NOT WORTHY OF >:’(

Actor Noctis saved actor Prompto and carried him in arms bridal style.

“Oh! My hero! I knew you would save me

“Don’t worry, Prompto. Not only did I take you along despite knowing you’re useless because you’re funny, I also took you along because I think you’re cute.”

“O-oh…Noctis-sama…(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)”

“…oh my god they’re making it lo-  no homo, bro, you know that? I mean not that I’d mind but like- no? You know?”

“…yeh.”

They try to infiltrate an imperial base to recover the Regalia, BUT, of COURSE the ALMIGHTY EMPIRE has NO FLAWS and no one can infiltrate there!

THE CHOCOBROS ENDED UP SMASHED AND SHOOED AWAY, LONG LIVE THE EMPIIIIIREEEE!!

The play depicted that the chocobros HAD to use brute force and force a traitor imperial to be able to make it inside.

“Pscht. We did it on our OWN, come on >:(“

Ravus is chuckling.

“Hey, Ravus? Why are you smiling?”

“This is my favorite part.”

No one really knew what he was talking about; what was fun about the guys fighting overpowered imperials and recovering the car?

The actor chocobros recover the car. While talking in there, actor Prompto turns around.

Actor Prompto SHRIEKS OUT IN HYSTERICAL FEAR and then faints.

Actor Ignis has to take him away to protect him. Actor Noctis wakes up.

And so, Actor Ravus comes on in on stage!!!

“…oH MY GOD NO” it’s Gladio finally understanding why Ravus was chuckling and waiting for this. Ravus just laughs darkly again in his seat, satisfied with the Shield’s distress.

He doesn’t even mind that the actor is wearing the SUPER FAKE prosthetic on the wrong arm.

“It has been a very long while, Chosen One. Noctis.”

“Indeed it has, Ravus, Not Chosen.”

Gladio SNORTS and fights a lot with containing a hysterical laugh.

Damn he knows that’s Ravus MOST SORE and fragile spot, so he knows they hit him where it hurts most.

Ravus just frowns and his eyebrow twitches.

Actor Ravus gives a SUPER OMINOUS speech about Noctis not understanding his duty and being unworthy of it. Like SO OMINOUS, it’s worse than Gentiana levels of unintelligibly pompous.

Actor Noctis does complain about him serving the army that’s against Lunafreya.

“I do not serve! I command!”

Actor Ravus SLAPPED THE FUCK OUT OF ACTOR NOCTIS.

Like, no throat grabbing and jerking, HE FUCKING. SLAPPED HIM. LIKE DEAD ON THE FACE.

“Hey, that didn’t happen! That looks more humiliating than what really did happen!”

Ravus is chuckling again.

Actor Gladio gets in the way.

“HEY! NO SLAPPING! YOU SLAP THE TINY DORK, YOU SLAP ME FIRST. IT’S THE AMICITIA WAY! IT’S THE AMICITIA DUTY!” he’s yelling as he’s unnecessarily flexing. “YOU FIGHT HIM ONLY AFTER YOU FIGHT ME!” and then he unnecessarily rips his shirt apart and tosses the pieces to the sides and gets ready to fight.

Clarus chuckles in the row behind them.

“That’s my son.”

“! :D YEH!”

Actor Ravus gets close to him.

“The Shield of the prince. A useless, fragile shield that protects the unworthy and the weaker.”

And, said that, actor Ravus…flicks his forehead.

Actor Ravus. He flicked actor Gladio’s forehead. Flicked it.

And at the touch actor Gladio SHRIEKS OUT AND IS SENT FLYING BACKWARDS AND INTO THE CAR AND PAST IT AND INTO LOTS OF PROPS AND PAST THEM AND INTO THE WALL WHICH HE DESTROYS AND THE WALL COLLAPSES ON HIM, IT’S NUTS.

“…what the FUCK HE BARELY TOUCHED HIM! That’s not- that’s not what happened! Iggy! Iggy, you saw that, right? You know what really happened and it’s nothing similar to this, right!?”

Ignis hesitates.

“…uhm-”

“D: IGNIS!?”

“No! I’m sorry! No, I didn’t mean- what I mean is, it definitely wasn’t like that. You’re right.”

“…yeah…I know…:(“

Ravus snorts and properly laughs under his breath this time.

He has manners enough to contain himself and not burst laughing, but he laughs so much and contains it so much he even has to wipe away some tears of laughter.

“Ah. My favorite part. What a delight. How I wish we could replay that.”

Gladio’s really moody and upset right now, please don’t touch him.

The chocobros have to infiltrate another base, and of course they require of more dirty tricks and brute force to make their way inside.

They follow actor Caligo.

Speaking of which, it’s a young handsome man in his 30’s with Senpai face and a long, silky mane of black hair, giant blue eyes, and a gorgeous voice.

Aranea is cringing in her seat.

Caligo almost defeated them too, by the way. He was IN NO WAY captured or knocked out, he’s an imperial officer, of COURSE he won! The chocobros only won because they summoned a god and everyone knows that’s cheating and doesn’t count.

Actress Aranea comes in!

“FOR THE GLORY OF THE EMPIRE, YOU SHALL FALL!”

“What!? Who said that!?”

Actress Aranea comes into the scene….

F L Y I N G

Actress Aranea is tied to one of those ropes to fly and SHE GOES INTO THE SCENE FLYING, THEN SHE FLIES ABOVE THE PUBLIC, THEN BACK, AND SHE KEEPS ATTACKING WHILE RANDOMLY FLYING INTO THE AIR.

Aranea bursts out laughing.

“Ahahahahahah!! I mean, I do jump very high, but that girl is FLYING! Ahahahahah!!”

Aranea is having a LOT of fun.

Mostly because actress Aranea is SLAYING THE FUCK OUT OF THE CHOCOBROS.

Actress Aranea is super skinny and wearing a pair of fake boobs, but Aranea thinks it’s cool.

And by fake boobs I mean. They’re giant. Giganormous. Anime tiddies.

“Why are my boobs so big?”

“I mean, they wrote the script based on what they heard or what people would tell them, so I guess that’s how people described you.”

“Wow, from all the things people had to look at, they remember me for giant boobs?”

“Aw :( I’m so sorry, Aranea. Women shouldn’t be sexualized like thi-”

“Because damn they’re right, I have to admit my boobs are quite nice! You ever touched them, pretty boy?”

“WhA- NO! WHY WOUL- ARANEA MY DAD IS HERE, NO.”

“Hey, mister dad? Your son touched them.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yeah, and he’s also seen them in flesh and-”

“ARANEA NO WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO YOU WHY ARE YOU RUINING MY LIFE LIKE THIS.”

Aranea didn’t talk much because she’s entertained watching the play and actress Aranea fly around like a real dragon slaying the boys.

She’s also flirting with both actors Prompto and Ignis all along the fight.

Actor chocobros end up defeated and knocked out on the ground on a pile.

Actress Aranea stands on top of them, with her heel on actor Noctis’ face.

“I would END YOU RIGHT NOW. But you know what, I won’t.”

“Why?”

“Just because. See you later, guys!”

“…is that really how it happened? You could have ended them and didn’t and then you just. Joined them? Just like that?”

“Of course not! I had an interesting arc and character development, if you must know!”

“…so did you really just leave and then joined them for no reason?”

“…yeah.”

The actor chocobros are taking Iris to Caem.

Actress Iris is a VERY tall and SUPER INCREDIBLY HUNK young lady that keeps flexing and screaming PROTEIN along Gladio, and fist-pumping with him while yelling “AMICITIA! AMICITIA! AMICITIA!” like brute gorillas.

Clarus finds it a cute sight and is proud.

“Wow, look at the actress playing Iris!”

“I’m sure that’s a man.”

“Wow, look at the actor playing Iris! He makes her look all beefy and super strong and super scary!”

There’s a long silence.

“Most accurate thing so far.”

Everyone agrees.

Actor Gladio informs he will momentarily leave the party.

“I HAVE BEEN DISGRACED BY THAT DEFEAT IN THE HANDS OF THE ALMIGHTY RAVUS. I AM UNWORTHY OF BELONGING IN THIS RETINUE AND I MUST GO AWAY TO PUNISH MYSELF WHILE AT THE SAME TIME FINDING SOME GROWTH AND SOMETHING TO PUNCH. I HAVE TO GO AWAY TO SPEND A WHILE AT THE GYM BEFORE COMING BACK. DO YOU FEEL ME, BRO? CAN I LEAVE YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF MY LITERAL DUTY TO GO DO PERSONAL STUFF NOW?”

“….ZzZz…Oh? Ah. Yeh. Whatever. Just let me sleep.”

Actor chocobros except actor Gladio get to the ruins in the Vesperpool and they meet actress Aranea again.

“Hey guys! I know I kicked your asses last time but I think I changed my mind, mind if I join you?”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?! AFTER ALL YOU’VE PUT ME THROUGH, YOU EXPECT US TO LET YOU IN JUST LIKE THAT?! JUUUUUUUST LIKEEEEEEEEE THAAAAAAAT!?!?!?”

“Yes.”

“.___.     Fine.”

“FINE!?”

“Hey, she’s very persuasive.”

(High five to myself for that disney reference *highfive*)

Episode Gladio…. Hasjdjaklf

Actor Gladio spends his time away in the gym and flexing and eating carbs before he goes into a cave to face the Evil Darklord.

(Nobody knows about Gilgamesh, okay, the writers had to make something up).

Cor accompanied him.

“HEY COR. THANK YOU FOR JOINING IN THIS WITH ME.”

“You’re welcome. I’m happy to help in your self-discovery journey, what about we talk about myself?”

“That wasn’t like that.”

Gladio stays quiet and frowning and analyzing it for a bit before he turns.

“…but it was like that, we talked about just you.”

“But that’s because you asked!”

“That’s because you offered it!”

“Wha- no! Why would I talk about myself just like that? You started!”

Basically episode Gladio goes about Cor and Gladio being work-out buddies.

Actor Cor rarely shows any reaction even when he’s being hit in the face.

“Wow…they make it look like I never smile or something…”

Gladio stayed quiet again analyzing everything.

“…but you really didn’t smile.”

Cor didn’t answer.

The actor chocobros go to Altissia, and we get a skip to Lunafreya who receives the news.

“My beloved prince Noctis is coming?” everything is fine. And then- “OH!” then dramatically sobs. “That is…wonderful news! His presence means light. His presence means a savior. His presence…” she sobs and sniffs again, and then she throws herself to her knees, hands to the sky. “His presence…means HOPE! SO MUCH HOPE! Hope for the world!” she sobs louder and throws herself onto the chair. “HOPE FOR EVERYONE!” she lets herself to the floor. “Forgive me if I’m getting too emotional but…this touches my heart and fills it WITH SO MUCH HOPE!”

And so actress Lunafreya burst out into hysterical hyper dramatic tears.

Actor Ravus talks with Actress Lunafreya.

“Lunafr-”

Actress Lunafreya bursts into hysterical tears.

“I can’t go on, brother! The hope! It’s dying and I can’t revive it! I’ve tried for so long to keep it alive, but it’s too much for me anymore! I’m not strong enough! Oh, the hope! You have to carry on with my duty for me, brother; let Noctis know that I love him and that I…I have HOPE IN HIM”

Actress Luna continued crying.

Luna chuckles a bit, but also hides a little behind a hand out of embarrassment.

“Sure I’m not that dramatic…”

Nobody answered.

Skip to the summit with Camelia.

Actress Camelia is far overweight and wearing far too much make-up, almost like a clown.

“You are aware, mister prince Noctis, that Accordo has been under the orders of the empire and loyally serving it for over a hundred years.”

“Yes.”

“As servants to the empire, we’re supposed to do as they tell us; Niflheim does but look for the good of the people. Waking Leviathan will cost the lives of half Accordo and bring destruction to the world.”

“Yes.”

“Let’s DO IT.”

Noctis is groaning in his seat while actress Camelia goes about some fake speech of how she’s betraying “the good guys” for money and etc.

“If only it had really been that easy…”

Skip to Noctis chasing after Leviathan. The imperials are depicted as the good guys that try to stop the destruction by killing Leviathan, and Noctis somehow ends up riding her and laughing like a maniac while guiding Leviathan into destroying half Accordo.

It’s beautiful and bizzarre.

Skip to episode Ignis.

Ignis is ballet-ing his way through Altissia.

He actually looks pretty badass with those pirouettes slaying MTs as he goes, look at that fine young gentleman.

Soon enough he’s joined by Ravus.

“I will destroy you, Ignis Scientia!”

Actor Caligo appears.

“I think your hair is weird!” he says to Ravus.

Actor Ravus looks at Ignis again.

“Never mind that, now I’ll join you, Ignis Scientia!”

Both kill Caligo.

Noctis: “What the fuck was that.”

Ravus: “That didn’t happen.”

Actor Ignis and Ravus slay some MTs before they stop and the atmosphere suddenly gets warm and in dim reddish lights like in a damn burdel.

Suddenly, both get a bit too close to each other.

“Oh, Ravus. I had never seen you from this close before” actor Ignis touches his lips and looks up at him. “I think you’re very attractive.”

Gladio, from his seat, flinches and goes “What?”

Actor Ravus gets some steps away.

“What? We can’t do this. We’re on enemy teams. My heart proudly belongs to the empire” (Ravus ‘pscht’s from his seat) “and rumors have it you’re already dating the Shield of the prince!”

“Gladiolus?” actor Ignis asks, and then he chuckles with some sarcasm. “Oh, Ravus. Don’t be ridiculous. I love him like a brother and just that!”

Gladio was frowning; now his expression just softens in some sort of insecurity, and he’s very attentive on the play.

“So then…you’re single?” actor Ravus asks him, and then he goes back to break the distance between them, and he hugs him with an arm, pulling him close to himself. “Ignis. The man with the beautiful eyes. I will now betray the empire and will swear loyalty to the king of Lucis and help him in his journey…for you.”

“Oh, Ravus…”

“Ignis…”

Both actors proceed to embrace each other and then they kiss.

And they go on.

And on and on.

Actor Ravus may have grabbed actor Ignis by the butt.

The play may have implied that these two slept together during the events of Altissia.

Ravus and Ignis are staring eye-widened and in shock, then they subtly look at each other, then finding the other staring, both look away in absolute embarrassment and burning red in the faces.

Gladio’s really, really upset.

The worst part is that he feels insecure, not jealous, which I think is worse.

Actor Ravus betrayed actor Ignis again and that’s how Ignis ended up kidnapped in imperial hands; then actor Ravus betrays the empire again and joins the actor chocobros to go rescue Ignis.

“I betrayed just ONCE and it was for good. They make it look like I don’t have a position in this and just betray every time things go bad for my team.”

The actor chocobros get the help of actress Aranea to go into Nif territory.

Actor chocobros end up in Gralea to rescue Ignis, who they find dead.

Apparently, Ignis died as result of wearing the ring, when trying to open the gates of the city for the chocobros.

“No! Ignis!”

Actor chocobros + actor Ravus cry for him, until actor Noct uses his magic ring.

“In the name of the moon! Healing magical power of the kings! Hi-yah!”

“…that’s not how you use the ring.”

Prompto laughs.

“They make you sound like a magical girl, dude.”

While using the ring, actor Noctis asked actor Gladio to hold Ignis for a moment.

When actor Ignis comes back alive, actor Gladio yells out

“IGNIS! YOU LIVE! OH, MY DEAR BROTHER! I WAS WORRIED FOR YOU…LIKE A GOOD BROTHER WOULD BE.”

Gladio just “Pscht”s.

Actor Gladio is pushed aside by actor Ravus, who holds Ignis in an over-dramatic over-romantic way.

“Oh, Ignis…light of my new life, star of my new skies, love of my new life…you live…”

“Ravus. I fought to stay alive…for you.”

“Oh, Ignis!”

“Ravus!”

“Ignis!”

These two incoherently start making-out again in front of everyone as the actor chocobros cheer for them or throw petals on them.

This finishes with Gladio’s patience.

Gladio gets up from his seat and leaves; Prommy asks him if he can bring some gummies when he comes back.

Skip to Lunafreya staying behind somewhere “safe” instead of coming along in the journey like a damsel in distress, she cries because she’s back home in Tenebrae and that gives her so much hope.

She’s questioned about Noctis and if she doesn’t want to stop the rituals despite this wearing her out.

We get a flashback of actress Luna in Tenebrae.

Actor Ravus approaches her.

“Lun-”

“OH RAVUS!” actress Luna is hysterically crying again.

Actress Luna went on in a rant about hope and light, crying all the time. Actor Ravus stayed still and frozen like a statue, frowning.

“Just get over that boy, Lunafreya. You’re way prettier than he deserves.”

“…he didn’t say that, Noc-”

“Yes, I did. In other words, but yes I did.”

Savage, Ravus.

“He’s never going to be worthy!”

“After you were proven unworthy, you say that about everyone!”

“SHUT UP, LUNAFREYA!”

“Why are you yelling at me!?”

Ravus sighs in his seat.

“They make it look like I’m totally stiff and humorless, except from the times I’m with Ignis.”

Ignis chuckles. “Actually, I think that actor’s pretty spot on.”

Ravus: “How can you say that!?”

Actress Lunafreya: “I think Noctis is cute.”

Actor Ravus: “HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT!?”

Ignis just laughs.

There’s an intermission where the guys mop and complain about the things that aren’t accurate. Aranea is the only one happy with her character. Noctis tries comforting Prompto about him not being useless, Regis talks with Noctis about sleeping during important fights, etc.

“Have you guys seen Gladio?” Ignis asks after a while.

“He went for snacks ten minutes ago and I’m still waiting, bro!”

Ignis decides to go look for him.

Ravus is moping and Aranea goes see what’s wrong.

“What’s with the long face, tough boy? Not enjoying your character?”

“It’s easy for you to not be upset about this. You get a flying badass super strong heroine, but to me this is just a reminder of all the things I did wrong. From wearing the ring to having joined the empire, and things like failing to protect Ignis in Altissia…which they didn’t only rub in my face again, but also manipulated to make it seem like it was because of me that he got captured. It’s telling me how many mistakes I’ve done in my life and how it’s going nowhere. That I should have believed in Noctis since the beginning.”

“Hm. You sound pathetic, Ravus. You know, I don’t think there’s a time to be correct. It took me years before I left the empire, too, and I don’t mop for what I did in the past. I just try to get my present right for once. You should be doing the same. Besides, your sister is watching. I thought you wanted to make her proud; sitting here and mopping won’t get it. You get up and fight for the good causes now. Okay?”

Ravus smiles at her and thanks her, even when he doesn’t really like being lectured.

A random little kid that was chasing after his friend back into the theatre stops and looks at him. Like really looks; stays a while in there just staring.

“Oooh…your Ravus costume is SUPER COOL! But the fake arm goes on the other side!”

Ravus just blinks in disbelief at the child.

While the kid runs away, Aranea stops Ravus before Ravus gets to grab him by the skull, eyebrow twitching and face entirely unimpressed and soul screaming.

While the guys talk, Ignis finds Gladio at a balcony, grumpy and down in the dumps.

“Hey, Gladio? Is anything the matter?”

“This play is stupid. Everything about it is stupid and I don’t like it. Let’s just go back and get out of here.”

“Calm down, Gladio. I know it’s silly and far unrealistic, but it’s not so that you take it this personally.”

“Gods, I’m just- so angry right now…”

Ignis is quiet and doesn’t know very well what to say. More than angry, Gladio looks plain sad. Ignis tries standing next to him to at least let him know he’s there.

“Did you really mean that, Ignis?”

“What? If you could be a bit more specific…”

“Back in the play. You said- that you love me as just a brother. And I…”

“…Gladio? What do you mean?”

“Never mind. Forget it.”

Ignis stays quiet again and they say nothing for a long while. After the long pause, Gladio clearly tries saying something but seems to not know how, but after some attempts he puts the head slightly down and just lets it out.

“…did you really- kiss Ravus? Back in Altissia, I mean…”

“What?” Ignis is taken completely off-guard. But he laughs a bit. “Of course not. The writers just…took me to make me the romantic arc of the story, with the first person they saw, and built an over-dramatic romance.”

“Right, but why didn’t they take anyone else, then? Why Ravus?”

“I know you’re not exactly friends with him, but it’s not so you overreact, Gladio-”

“I just mean it was me who held you in arms after Noctis healed you! Not him! And it was me who carried you outside and looked after you until today…not him…”

“…Gladio-”

“And it was…I just…thought there was maybe something going on between us. But it’s not, is it? You see me as the actor says, as just a brother. Right?”

“…Gladio, it’s just a play. I think…we could talk about us sometime else, okay? When you’re feeling better…if- you wish.”

Gladio is still down in the dumps, and can’t help it, but he knows Ignis is right about discussing this later, so he just nods.

Gladio does think about leaning in to steal a kiss from him, but he really doesn’t want to ruin it, or make a move that may upset or offend Ignis, so he resists.

Secretly, Ignis thought about holding his hand, maybe even dare to reach and kiss him, knowing it’s going to make Gladdy feel better, because yes, Ignis understands his feelings and they’re reciprocate, but he also really wants the moment of confession to be special, so he doesn’t dare make a move.

These two idiots hngh…just- kiss already AAAAHHHHH

Both head back to the play.

This time, Ignis makes sure to let Gladio sit in the seat next to Ravus, so Ignis is sat only next to Gladio.

Ignis also makes sure to throw hints at him by leaning against him and softly resting a hand on his arm across the rest of the play.

It does help Gladdy to feel better. :’3

The story follows the guys making their way through Gralea.

Ignis back then was healed but not fully and hence still blind, and the play didn’t miss that out.

Actor Ignis is going around SLAYING MTs and being a badass.

“Wow, Ignis, we thought you were blind?”

Actor Prommy is waving a hand in front of his eyes.

Actor Ignis is all smirk and then he goes.“I can see you doing that. I can still see, I see everything you see, except I don’t see like you do. I release a sonic wave from my mouth. Like this.”

Actor Ignis turned to look at the others and SCREAMED VERY  LOUDLY.

Like, SO LOUDLY. It’s a shriek. It’s a screech.

Actor Ignis is screaming so loudly, the chocobros, in the LAST row, all flinched and covered their eyes.

Everyone is staring at actor Ignis in absolute terror.

Actor Ignis is still yelling.

After like a whole minute he shuts up.

“There. I got a pretty nice look at you.”

Skip to Nox Fleuret sblings meeting again.

“Lu-”

“I KNOW WHAT MY DUTY IS!!! I KNOW WHAT IT’S DOING TO ME!!! STOP BEING SO CRUEL TO ME, BROTHER!!! YOU’RE SPOILING THE HOPE! THE HOPE!!”

Actress Lunafreya went into a long rant and speech about the hope and lost love for the next ten minutes and then bursts into hysterical tears..

Actor Ravus has been still the whole time staring poker-faced.

Actor Ravus, after the heartfelt, emotional speech, turns over his heels and leaves entirely unimpressed.

“Wow, they make it look like Ravus doesn’t care about you, Luna.”

“….yeah. It…definitely didn’t happen like that….”

Ravus is too scared to look at Lunafreya right now.

….he may….or may not….really have walked away unimpressed leaving her speaking alone….

The play doesn’t offer much other than what Cor is supposed to be doing and the guys making their way through Gralea.

“Well, we’ve reached the present. Guess that’s it.”

“Wait! There’s more!”

The gang is actually pretty curious about seeing what the play theorizes will happen in a future.

The scenography shows some creepy place.

“It’s in Zegnautus! There’s the imperial keep where the throne chamber is” Aranea informs the chocobros in a whisper.

Suddenly…ACTOR ARDYN COMES IN.

The chocobros all DAMN FREAK OUT AT HIS MENTION LIKE ZOMG THE MAN THAT’S MADE THEIR LIVES IMPOSSIBLE, they’re triggered even if they know it’s just an actor.

Actor Iedolas sits at the throne.

“My emperor!” actor Ardyn says as he bows before the emperor. “The Lucian prince and his friends have finally arrived here, in Zegnautus keep.”

“You’ve done well, Chancellor Izunia. They’re falling right in our hands, and on free will.”

“You were wise at advising we opened the doors for them. Our security is impeccable and they wouldn’t have been able to infiltrate or attack on their own.”

“You are not questioning me like that traitor of Nox Fleuret always did with my commands.”

“That’s because I have no doubts that you know what you’re doing and that you’ll be able to receive our guests as is deserved.”

Actor Prompto died at the hands of a random MT.

Prompto is pale and pretending he’s fine but you can see his soul abandoning his body in anxiety.

Actor Gladio died at the hands of Ravus because Gladio got angry at Noctis and tried to murder him and Ravus tried to save the day.

Actor Ignis died protecting Noctis from a valiant attack by the Chancellor.

Ravus couldn’t handle the loss and killed himself hugged to Ignis.

Noctis took the sword from Ravus and chased after the Chancellor alone.

Noctis arrives to the throne room.

“Emperor Iedolas! My sworn enemy!” Noctis says valiantly while swinging his sword in cool movements and pointing at the emperor. “I demand you give me back the Crystal that is by right mine! Give me back my source of power, you, greedy old man!”

“Greed? You think that what I want is the power that radiates from the Crystal?” the emperor asks him. “You, fool! I’m trying to save the world and the righteous people that live in it! You Lucians have kept the Crystal selfishly for yourselves all this time, not sharing it with anyone. We did steal it, I admit, but it’s for a greater cause! It’s for a bright and peaceful future!”

“Lies! I won’t listen to you! I don’t care about the future of the world, I only care about the future of my kingdom! Give it back!”

“You shall take it from my dead hands only.”

“So, I shall do!”

Suddenly, actor Noctis and actor Iedolas get into a frantic and pretty cool battle.

Someone in backstage is using mirrors and led lights to recreate Noctis’ armiger.

Actor Noctis is also tied by the waist to make some of his warps and big jumps.

“Fire spell! Hi, yah!”

The props are pretty decent, making a smoke bomb explode, or throwing random “snowflakes” when he uses blizzaga, etc.

Actor Noctis jumps around, armiger activated, the royal arms flying around, and Iedolas somehow manages to dodge and move away, and sometimes he counterattacks, it’s a frantic and pretty epic battle.

They reach a point where Actor Noctis stops on a side of the stage and Iedolas in the other. A prop of the Crystal “floats” in the back and in the middle.

Actor Noctis goes

“Oh, powerful Crystal that chose the Lucis two thousand years ago! Crystal that chooses the righteous and the fair, the good and the powerful, I claim your aid and ask you to finish this unworthy traitor of the gods!”

Noctis moves up in his seat, interested, and smiling all full of innocence and hope.

The “Crystal” suddenly starts gleaming.

Prompto shakes Noctis by the shoulders, as excited, and both boys watch happily.

The “Crystal” suddenly envelopes actor Noctis in its light.

The chocobros are all smiles and happiness while watching the moment, and then-

“Wh-what is happening…!? No….nooooo!!!”

Actor Noctis suddenly IS CONSUMED BY BLUE FIRE.

The light that previously surrounded him turns to blue papers that tornado around him, consuming him.

“AAAAAGHHHH!!! IT BURNS! IT BURNS! What is happening!? Why is the Crystal not giving me its power!? Why is it BURNING ME!?”

Suddenly, the previous lights go to cover and circle around actor Iedolas, who spreads the arms and looks up as if in divine realization.

While actor Noctis burns, actor Iedolas goes to give a speech.

“The Crystal…it has given me its approval!! I have been chosen as worthy!”

Actor Iedolas turns to look at actor Noctis and throws the arms of armiger at him, while actor Noctis still “burns”.

“The Lucis may have been worthy two thousand years ago…but not anymore! Their time has ended, their kingdom has fallen! They let their ego grow too much believing themselves superior only for being the safekeepers of the Crystal…but not anymore! The times change, and so does the choice of the gods, and this time, we have been chosen! We, Niflheim, are the new and righteous chosen of the Crystal, new warriors and safekeepers of it, we have been given the power that belongs to us, the superior race! And as the first emperor of the Crystal era, I have been chosen to eradicate the past, and finish the traitors of the gods, the Lucis Caelum! Your line ends here!”

“Nnnnnnnoooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!”

There’s a whole show of lights and FIRE that comes out of nowhere and the endless armiger and dramatic music.

Actor Noctis ends up consumed and dead. The actor subtly-but-failed crawled out of the stage while actor Iedolas took the spotlight again and cheered for Niflheim.

Suddenly, the WHOLE audience goes HYSTERICAL and they break into loud clapping and cheering.

It’s a MESS of noise and “Yes!” and whistling, it’s chaos of joy in the theatre.

Except in the section where the good guys sit.

They’re all frozen and stare eye-widened at the stage.

Then, everyone simultaneously and in dead silence turns to look at Noctis.

Noctis is sat there, arms-crossed as he last was, eye wide, and face pale, and he’s whole frozen.

They spent like that like a whole minute before Noctis realizes he’s been observed.

“…I….hadn’t thought of that possibility….”

Long story short, our gang ends up exiting and leaving for their current hideout, all trying to make of this a not big deal.

“Eh, it’s not even a good script.”

“Yeah, it’s full of holes.”

“I didn’t even like it that much anyway.”

“You’re right. Absolutely pointless.”

And they never watched that play again.

*music*

*ending screen*

*credits roll*

[kiheons]

literally Brianna being so mean to Aquaria and denying her long enough that Aquaria cums untouched

Brianna's favorite thing is denying Aquaria for weeks while she's out of town. She's gone for 3 weeks, when she comes back Aquaria immediately tries to kiss her and Brianna is like nope you don't get to touch me at all. Aquaria is so surprised and Brianna tells Aquaria she's going out of town in about 2 days. Brianna literally makes a point to sleep in the guest room and walk naked around the house and Aquaria is not allowed to touch her and it's driving Aquaria crazy.

Brianna lounging on the couch and Aquaria tries to sit next to her but Brianna pointing to the other end of the couch. "sit over there." Aquaria looks like a kicked puppy as she just sulks on the other side of the couch. "Mommy..." Brianna has no mercy "no. You don't get to touch at all." Aquaria whining "mommy, what did I do? I'm sorry." Brianna cooing at her "oh sweetheart. Don't worry, you didn't do anything. This is for your own good." Aquaria has no idea what that means. She hates this, she hates being denied for this long. "Mommy can I please touch you?" Brianna like nope

Brianna leaving early the next morning and Aquaria sulking "can I at least kiss you goodbye?" Brianna hesitating cause honestly she really misses Aquaria's touch but she has an end game here. "No. You can wait. I'll be back in two weeks."

Aquaria hates this so much. They have a rule about Aquaria not touching herself while Brianna is out of town. They Skype a few days later and Aquaria is just a whiny mess. "Mommy why are you being so mean to me?" Brianna is still working as they talk. "I'm not being mean to you little girl. This is for your own good." Aquaria whining "what does that even mean? Mommy I don't know what that means." Brianna looking at her "Aquaria if you're going to complain I'm hanging up. I have better things to do than listen to you whine." Aquaria pouting but stops whining none the less.

They Skype a few days later and Aquaria is fucking desperate for anything from Brianna. "Mommy can I see you?" Brianna like Aquaria you're literally Skyping me "no, I mean like...." Brianna raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean? What, do you want to see Mommy naked? Do you want to see me touch myself." Aquaria nodding immediately "please mommy." Brianna smiling and for a second Aquaria is like maybe she'll actually let me have something. "Aww, sweetheart," Brianna's face changing and she glares at Aquaria "not happening" the call ends before Aquaria even has a chance to say anything back.

The next time they Skype Aquaria is clutching onto Brianna's pillow and whimpering. Brianna looks very very unimpressed. "You better not touch yourself. Aquaria I will be furious if you do." Aquaria moaning pathetically. "Mommy please!" Brianna has no mercy "if you dare, Aquaria, you'll have hell to pay." Aquaria is literally crying at this point "mama please, just once, please I need it" brianna holds strong. "No. It's not happening. Go to bed and I don't ever want to hear you complain about this again." Aquaria does what Brianna says but she's not at all happy about it.

When Brianna finally comes home Aquaria stands near the door and watches Brianna bring her luggage in. "Mommy can I-" Brianna doesn't even let her finish her sentence. "No. Whatever you want to ask for the answer is no." Aquaria can't do this. She hasn't touched Brianna in 5 weeks, even when Brianna was home. Brianna isn't giving her anything, if Brianna is gone for more than 3 weeks at a time she let's Aquaria touch herself at least once but this has been complete denial. "Mommy why?" Aquaria is whining. Brianna stops what she's doing and Aquaria's blood runs cold cause fuck, she fucked up, she knows Brianna hates it when she complains. "Aquaria what did I say about complaining?" Aquaria sobbing "mommy I'm sorry, please, I didn't mean it I promise" Brianna isn't having it. "I thought about giving you a reward for waiting so long but you clearly don't deserve it if you still have the mouth to complain."

Brianna going to bed and she's in the guest room again and Aquaria can't take this. It was bad when Brianna was gone but this is worse cause Brianna is right there, she's in the house with Aquaria and Aquaria is not fucking allowing to touch her at all. Aquaria literally spends the time when she's home staring at Brianna, hoping Brianna will throw her a bone but nothing. Brianna just straight up ignores her and Aquaria has no idea what Brianna is trying to do but this is pushing her to her limit.

Aquaria getting back from work and making herself coffee. Sipping at it when Brianna gets home. "Hi Mommy." Aquaria knows that Brianna won't give her any attention but she's gonna try. Brianna doesn't take off her heels, she just puts her bag down and goes to sit on the couch, scrolling through her phone. Aquaria is sure she'll be ignored again when Brianna says in the most bored voice ever. "Come here Aquaria."

Aquaria practically running to Brianna, she's pretty sure she knocked over her coffee cup but this is literally the most attention she's gotten in nearly 2 months and fuck she's gonna take it. Brianna makes it clear "that doesn't mean you get to touch me." Aquaria skidding to a stop in front of the carpet "yes mommy?" She sounds desperate and Brianna is trying not to smile cause Aquaria is literally like a puppy desperate for their owners attention. Brianna crooking one finger "Crawl to me." Aquaria doesn't even hesitate and Brianna could get used to this. "Kneel." Aquaria stopping in front of Brianna and Brianna finally looking at her and it's that look that Brianna gives people when she's going toe to toe with some of the most powerful people in the world and Aquaria has never had it directed towards her. This is the first time and fuck, Aquaria has never been this scared and turned on in her entire life.

Brianna smiling and Aquaria thinks she might die right here on Brianna's carpet because Brianna looks so fucking scary and hot at the same time and Aquaria hasn't touched her in 7 weeks. Brianna could probably hold a gun to Aquaria's head right now and Aquaria would still do everything Brianna says willingly. "You look scared, kitten." Aquaria trying to find her voice "I....Mommy I'm...." Brianna looks amused "its okay if you're scared. I've been mean to you these past few weeks, haven't I?" Aquaria doesn't know how to answer this. "I-its...mommy said it was for my own good." Brianna looks proud and fuck, Aquaria can barely think, she's so turned on she can feel herself throbbing. She hasn't touched herself in 7 weeks, she's sensitive and needy and would do anything for Brianna to touch her.

"Good girl. You remembered." Aquaria keening at the compliment alone. Brianna has only said a few things to her and none of them have been sexual but Aquaria is already halfway there. Brianna looks so powerful and Aquaria knows Brianna isn't even trying. "Why do you look like that?" Aquaria is thrown off guard "what?" Brianna sneering "like you're about to cum in your panties even though I haven't touched you at all." Brianna is not wrong. There's a part of Aquaria that seriously thinks she might be able to cum untouched if Brianna keeps doing this to her.

Aquaria whimpering "I'm sorry Mommy." Brianna looks disgusted. "You should be. That's filthy." Aquaria sobbing, fingers curling into the fluffy carpet. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry Mommy." Brianna hissing "shut up. Did you get permission to talk?" Aquaria shaking her head and Brianna like "exactly. So why are you talking? You talk when I say you can, you cum when i say you can. You do things when I allow you to because you're my property." Aquaria is going to lose her mind, she's so incredibly turned on and she feels over heated. Brianna is just straight up insulting her at this point but Aquaria loves it. "Do you understand that? You're my property, you belong to me. I decide what happens to you."

Aquaria knows she's crying at this point but she never wants this to stop. Brianna looks mad "stupid, disgusting little girl. Why are you crying? I haven't even done anything to you." Aquaria sobbing "mommy please...." Brianna looks even more pissed off. "Who gave you permission to talk?" Aquaria knows she looks gross, she's crying freely, she can feel her nose running but she stays still because she doesn't have permission to move. "I-Im sorry Mommy" Brianna leaning down, getting inches from Aquaria's face. This is the closest Aquaria has been to Brianna in seven fucking weeks, she's right there and Aquaria wants to touch her so bad. "I would fucking slap you for disobeying me but you don't deserve to touch me." Brianna's voice is low and dangerous and Aquaria is going to die here, isn't she. She won't survive this.

Aquaria trying to stop crying but it's not going well. Brianna looks genuinely disgusted and Aquaria knows there's something wrong with her cause she feels so humiliated, disgusting and scared but she's so fucking turned on that she can't think straight. Brianna hissing "look at you, you're fucking disgusting. Pathetic, nasty, little whore." Aquaria sobbing because Brianna is right, she's all those things. Brianna doesn't stop. "I'm sure youre wet. You're ruining your panties just by me telling you how much of a slut you are. Are you wet, baby?" Fuck, Brianna hasn't called her baby in weeks and Aquaria can't handle this. "Yes! I'm wet Mommy!"

"I'm sure that slutty little cunt is dripping. You're a needy whore Aquaria, you always have been. You'll do anything for me to touch you, won't you?" Aquaria sobbing, nodding rapidly. "You're a slut for pain too. I can pull your hair, slap you, spank you and you'll ask for more." Aquaria can't do this, Brianna hasnt touched her but she's close, fuck, Aquaria is going to cum like this. Brianna leaning back against the couch, sighing. "I want to hit you." Aquaria wailing "Please! Please, Mommy please, please, Mommy I'll do anything please!"

Brianna doesn't reprimand her for talking this time around. She just raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Are you begging me to hit you?" Aquaria nodding "please Mommy, please I want you to hurt me! Please, please please Mommy!" Aquaria is sure she's a sobbing, nasty mess right now and Brianna looks so fucking amused and Aquaria feels like nothing and she's right on the edge, she's going to cum like this. "You don't deserve something like that Aquaria. I'm not touching you. Disgusting, pathetic, nasty little slut. You're fucking filthy, you don't deserve to touch me, you don't deserve anything because you're my property and I decide what to do with you. I've decided that you're fucking disgusting and I won't touch you and I certainly won't touch your cunt." Aquaria knows she's going to cum, there's no way she's not going to, she's right there, she's so close.

Brianna clocks it right away. "you're going to cum all over yourself aren't you? Even though i haven't touched you at all." Aquaria curling her fingers into the carpet, crying heavily and nodding. Brianna sounds angry "that's so fucking disgusting, you're fucking disgusting Aquaria. Filthy vile little thing, about to cum just from me insulting you. You're nothing, you're worthless and I'm going to make you cum just like this." Aquaria is sobbing, shes so wet, she needs this so bad and fuck she's so close. The push she needs comes in the form of Brianna fucking spitting on her and Aquaria is gone. Practically topples over and screams into the carpet, it comes in waves and Aquaria can't breath, her vision has gone white and Brianna is still talking and Aquaria can't remember what happens next.

When Aquaria gets herself together she's still on the carpet. She's just laying there and Brianna is there next to her, petting her hair and fuck, Brianna's touch feels so good. Brianna leaning down and kissing Aquaria's cheek. Her voice is soft and kind, a total 180 from what she has just been "you did so good, sweetheart you did such a good job. I'm so proud of you, waiting so long and then enduring that. You're such a good girl, I don't deserve you, you're an angel." Aquaria knows she's crying again and Brianna kissing her tears "it's okay, don't cry baby. I'm right here, mommy is right here sweetheart." Aquaria trying to hug Brianna but her arms feel weak and everything is blurry with tears. Brianna hugging her instead, she's practically on top of Aquaria. Kissing her cheeks, ear, hair, pressing a kiss against Aquaria's lips. "Such a good girl, you're wonderful. I don't deserve you, you're too good for me. I love you so much Aquaria, I'm so incredibly proud of you." Aquaria can't do much but lie there and cry while Brianna praises her. She's so glad she gets to touch Brianna again after such a long time.

Aquaria doesn't remember a ton after that. It fades in and out. She remembers Brianna washing her hair, she remembers Brianna telling her to eat something before she sleeps. All Aquaria can think when Brianna tucks her in is that Brianna is in the same bed as her and Aquaria missed this so much. Brianna still kissing Aquaria, she's still showering her in praise. Aquaria wakes up the next morning and her knees hurt and her throat hurts. Stumbling into the kitchen and Brianna is already there. The coffee pot is going, Brianna has something on the stove and Aquaria just stands there awkwardly. Brianna notices her and she looks a lot softer than she did last night. No makeup, she's barefoot with an old ratty college shirt that Aquaria can't believe someone like Brianna owns. Shes wearing shorts and her hair is tied up in a loose bun that's falling out. She looks small and soft and Brianna crooking a finger "come here and kiss me, baby" and Aquaria doesn't hesitate.

[gwiiyeoweo]

A kingdom in ruins, his people and loved ones dead, Gladiolus turns to those he had once spurned: the gods.

For better or for worse, Retribution hears and answers.

Pairing: Gladiolus Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum Rating: G

“So the prodigal son finally bends the knee.”

Gladiolus grits his teeth, keeps his eyes trained on the cracked stone on which he kneels upon. He hears featherlight footsteps circle around him, the soft patter of bare feet kicking up broken pebbles. A particularly sharp stone rolls into his view, and he stares at that instead. The barely lit torches cast dancing shadows around them, and he catches the echo of this other being’s form. He can’t tell if it’s humanoid or not.

“Why now? You blasphemed our names, tore down our shrines and effigies. And here you are, groveling on the floor so unlike the proud and regal prince you once were.” Gladio can hear the mocking smile in its voice, and it takes all of his will to push down on the pride that thrashed among the broken pillars of his castle. “So let me ask a better question. Why should I help you, a non-believer who spurned my very existence, when I could just leave you to meet out your due end?”

Because he shouldn't, because Gladio has no right to come to the gods after all that he's denied them. He knows this, and so does the god who prowls around him like a vicious predator circling its hapless prey. But he knows how negotiations and deals work; he's had his hand in many of his father's council sessions, learned from the finest tutors and diplomats in the art of politics. The fact that this god had decided to humor him with its presence means there's an interest, that there is something Gladio could offer. But because the gods are finicky and whimsical and never cut right to the chase, he needs to figure out what exactly the god sees in him — and quickly, before it loses interest and Gladio's last hope is smothered alongside the rubble of his nation.

After biding his time and taking the blows of the god's sharp words in silence — the not so subtle insults adding salt to his open wounds of seeing the last of his kingdom burn under black flames — he swallows thickly as he chooses his next words carefully. He knows not who he's summoned or if this deity is malevolent or benign. It could be a demon in disguise or a powerful spirit posing as some higher power, keeping up with the ruse so it could lure him into its trap and devour his soul and flesh and bones.

And Gladio only knows two things. One, this god clings to a masculine form, judging by the voice. Not by sight, because he had not dared to lift his eyes from the dark stone floor of this deserted and broken temple. And more importantly, two, that this is the only one to answer his plea and he could absolutely not fuck this up. His kingdom and his people were dead and gone, all buried underneath the thundering march of his enemies’ boots, and he had literally nothing left to lose. Even his life was forfeited the moment his father shoved him into the one-way passage that led to the forest edge, before he saw the blood spring forth from the sword impaled into the king’s chest.

Only, now that he’s at his lowest, he has everything to gain. And what he wants are revenge and justice, to see Iedolas' head perched upon a spike and decorating his front yard. For retribution alone, he would offer anything.

“I’d offer you my kingdom and my crown, but I don't have either — not anymore,” Gladio says slowly, trying not to grieve over his loss. Not yet, not now.

“So a king of nothing kneels here. But gold and silk never interested me.” It sounds unimpressed but not uninterested.

Gladio figured as much, so he's left with what should have been burned out with the rest of his people. “I don't know what a mortal's life is worth, but it's all I have to give. I can give you worship, praises, sacrifices, whatever it is you gods like. If you help me, I'll rebuild the shrines my family tore down. I'll turn Iedolas’ bones into an effigy in your name, even.”

“Ah, the Mad King.”

Gladio flinches at the title, anger boiling at just the mere mention of Iedolas’ moniker. The agonizing seconds that tick by is enough to cool it though, and he thinks it's done. It's all over. He didn't think his single life was worth much to a god anyway, but it was worth the shot. So he wonders what his next move should be, if there's anyone left to resist Iedolas’ blight —

“So be it. Your fleeting life is mine.”

Gladio feels cool fingers slide along his bare neck, and he can't help the shudder the foreign touch invokes. He almost can't believe the words he so clearly heard, except the fire that licks at the places he's been touched is more than enough to ground him.

“My will, your law.”

He closes his eyes and grits his teeth as fingers trace a pattern down his back, across his shoulders, and he feels a burn follow the shadows of his touches, a bone-deep sensation that reaches into Gladio’s very soul and coils magics around his fragments. He knows it's a contract, proof etched into his skin, proof he's signed his life away. Surprisingly, he isn't bitter about it.

“My word, your bible.”

This time, the voice ghosts the shell of his ear, its hand palming the front of his chest right over his heart. It burns the greatest here, and he's unable to hold back the sudden gasp, the magic piercing and needling under his skin. Gladio opens his eyes to see pale feet before him, not a speck of dirt or dust on porcelain skin, despite pacing around this decrepit place. He still doesn't look up, out of fear. If he dares raise his eyes now, he threatens to break what promise is being burned into him, to lose this miraculous favor he's been given when no one else would offer. And maybe, he fears the unknown. Of what little stories he's heard of gods, he knows some to depict them as beautiful creatures, others as fearsome beings surrounded by flames and blinding light.

“My name, your god.”

The burn spreads across his shoulder blades and down both his arms, but the pain is a dull ache and no longer searing. Or perhaps, it never dulled in the first place, but all his nerves turn their attention to the fleeting touch trailing down his jaw and under his chin. Two fingers command him to lift his head, and he does as ordered. In the past, he would have never put his knee to the cold dirty stone, never allowed someone to touch him so boldly. But that had been the time in which Gladio was royalty; now he's only a man whose will is chained and tethered to a being who lords over him.

He stiffens, however, when he meets two ice-steel eyes, a gaze so sharp and deep that he feels his soul lay itself utterly bare for dissection. He lets go of a breath he didn't know he was holding, only to have the air sucked clean out of him right after. The god finalizes their pact, and takes a piece of Gladio's soul as down payment and collateral, stealing his fragments right from his pliant lips. He feels something inside him shift, to make room for some heavy chain that wraps its burning coils around his soul, replacing what was taken from him.

Gladiolus sees black, and tastes blood in his mouth and a foreign name on his tongue.

“And what is this god's name?” it asks, almost sarcastically, one note away from mocking. And Gladio knows, the way it burns his mouth as it demands to be freed.

“Noctis.”

He whispers it with a reverence he never thought possible, especially not from such a heretic as he. It feels too smooth on his tongue and slips so easily from his lips. Because of the contract, he wants to believe. But he can't help but feel every word fall to dust and ruin before the god's name. As if he learned speech only to utter that single word, like his voice was given just for this one moment.

He thinks it possible. So much so when he sees that sharp curve of a smile — those lips that had just sealed Gladio’s fate, turn loving and frightening and vicious all at the same time. Thunder rumbles the stone walls, and the foundation of his entire world crumbles and remakes itself within Noctis’ torturous hands.

“Who are you?” He thinks it’s a rude question, an insult, but their contract is done; if what he’s heard of the gods is true, then Noctis won’t break his promise, won’t call their deal off and eat him alive. He should know this, really. But all he had was a name and this unfamiliar tether weighing in his chest.

Noctis’ smile turns crooked, and Gladio can’t tell if he looks amused or slighted.  

The god — no, his god — turns his eyes and follows the trail of his fingertips that graze over the feathered pattern of Gladio’s chest, the testament to their vows. What follows is an entirely different burn, not painful but hauntingly pleasant. In the dim firelight of the crude torches, he sees a blue flame swirl beneath the frozen steel of his eyes. There is power here. Power that could include him into the dust of the earth, yet it's reigned in under featherlight touches and a strangely gentle caress, as Noctis’ hand turns to cup Gladio's dirt and blood-stained cheek.

He looks at him almost lovingly, except his too sharp teeth and slitted eyes invoke fear and awe. Gladio thinks the myths and legends to be true: Noctis is both terrifying and magnificent. He's a marble statue come to live, but he exudes raw energy and arcane magic, and it bleeds into the air around him. Gladio had smelled the charged ozone the moment Noctis had came to him, atoms and physics bending to his will or cracking under his sovereignty.

His lips part in a cold but not cruel laugh, and Gladio believes it to be a beautiful sound. Because it sounds like vengeance, justice, a promise of redemption.

“You should at least know the names of the gods you so hated, or just what they hold dominion over.” Noctis’ eyes crinkle in amusement, and his smile is genuine. He strokes his thumb at the dark bag underneath Gladio's eye before removing his hand to grasp gently at the back of his neck.

Noctis draws their foreheads together, and once again Gladio feels breathless as he loses himself in those chasms of frozen darkness, enough to ignore the way the god's fingernails dig dangerously close to an artery.

Noctis’ whispers sound like the awe-inspiring notes of a grand organ, reverberating against the broken remains of the temple ruins like it would a church's marble and gold walls; and never did Gladio think he would find himself a worshipper basking in the sonorous hymns of Noctis’ voice.

“I am the moonless night in which the scorned seek out their wrongdoers and receive their due in blood, the edge of the guillotine that takes the life of murderers and rapists only to give it back to the bereaved.”

Gladio feels his pulse quicken underneath those fingertips.

“I am the steel of swords, the screams of soldiers and peasants, as they seek to right what has been wronged. I am the hammer that turns evil into justice, the cold silence that precedes and follows the promise of vengeance.”

And he can see it. He sees the visions Noctis paints for him, sees the future of what is promised to him.

“I am their Retribution. I am your Avenger.”

Gladio had never put much stock in the gods. But in this moment, he can do nothing but believe. He's been baptized in the fire of his god, made a covenant of his own flesh, and borne witness to the revelations. He shudders under the god's touch, feels himself vulnerable under that suffocating gaze, but he can't help but want and seek out more.

When Noctis removes himself, Gladio barely holds back the disappointment, and he misses the heat on his skin. His gaze trails after the other, who walks to the runes etched into the cracked walls. Noctis traces something, running his fingers over the faint echoes, and the once lost magic is breathed back to life, power pulsing through the stone.

“I promise you your justice. But for now, you rest. You won't be able to fight a war in the state you're in.”

Gladio realizes they're protection spells, and he's trying to decipher them when Noctis suddenly pulls at him from behind. He was just there, in front of him off to the walls. Gladio flails his arms as he falls backwards, hands grasping at air, until he finds his head cradled within the god's lap. The jagged and hard stone beneath him should be jutting into his spine but all he feels is a comfortable firmness, a reminder of his royal chambers. It doesn't make sense, but he doesn't want to ruin the moment, not when his eyelids feel so heavy right now and his limbs weighted with lead. He hadn't been so tired before.

“Rest,” Noctis repeats, “Everything can wait until morning.”

Gladio does as he's commanded, but he doesn't think he'd be able to disobey even if he wanted. He catches a glimpse of something odd and foreign in Noctis’ careful gaze, and he wonders if it's supposed to be sympathy or tenderness or perhaps something else entirely. He doesn't have much energy to dwell on it, however, and everything blurs at its edges until he's lost in black when he feels a hand cover his eyes. Instead of the nightmares that had plagued him, the visions of blood and his father's falling body, he dreams of a warm darkness and its stars.

When he wakes, it is with no pain or ache. He somehow knows his wounds are healed, and the knowledge is what prompts him into opening his eyes. Gladio sits up and pats down his chest and arms, searching for the evidence — or lack thereof — that he had been wounded in the first place, until he gets a good look at his arms and sees the brand that feathers out and splays across his skin. It's a stark reminder that last night had been real and not a figment of his delirious and grief-stricken imagination. It comes as a relief.

“I can't heal, if that's what you're wondering. I asked Luna to.”

Gladio swivels his head around, sees Noctis looking ridiculously graceful as he sits cross-legged on the floor. He furrows his eyebrows.

“Luna. Lunafreya.” Noctis gestures helplessly in the air.

Gladio isn't understanding what he's saying, or who Lunafreya is. Noctis catches notice and sighs, shaking his head lightly as his soft dark tresses brush his cheeks.

“I had forgotten you know nothing about us. Lunafreya is a god, sister to Ravus, to Allegiance. She is the soft moonlight that brings comfort to the broken, the light that brightens the path walked in darkness. She aids the sick and broken, grants miracles with her touch, and breathes life with her kiss,” Noctis explains. There's a certain fondness in his eyes as he speaks about her. “She is Hope when all is lost.”

“Oh, then my thanks to Lunafreya.” It's… awkward, thanking a god he was raised to deny. But Gladio is sincerely grateful, regardless.

He turns fully around to face Noctis, mimicking his posture and crossing his legs, when he sees two figures cross the rubble of the temple entrance. It’s daylight now; he must have slept through the entire night. He tenses, and all his muscles tighten and poise to attack, when Noctis stares him down and merely lifts a hand. Somehow, Gladio knows it's a sign to stand down. And he does so, albeit begrudgingly. He doesn't like how Noctis holds the reins, how a simple gesture is enough to cow him. He's used to giving orders, not receiving them.

Noctis turns his wrist to have his palm face up, and one of the men places a small basket in his hand. He takes it and places it on the floor, sliding it across the stone to Gladio.

Gladio sees the contents, recognizes the fruits that are set to one side and the cooked rabbit that lies separate by some sort of thin parchment.

“Breakfast?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. He wasn't expecting, well, this. But to be honest, he had no idea what he had been getting himself into in the first place. He picks off a slightly charred piece of meat and pops it into his mouth regardless. It's slightly bitter from the burnt skin and in desperate want of seasoning, but his stomach doesn't complain, not when he's gone days without eating.

“I want to clarify some things with you,” Noctis says, resting his elbows on his legs. He entwines his fingers together, and he leans forward with his chin propped on top of his knuckles. The two men flank both of his sides, the shorter blonde on his right and the brunette on his left.

“Fair enough,” Gladio says, after swallowing down his food. He eyes them suspiciously. Introductions would come later, apparently.

“You know how we work, at the very least?”

Of course he knows that much. The gods never do the work directly. They operate in the shadows, act as puppeteers pulling on strings from above in their heavenly thrones or from some spiritual plane. Oracles and prophets speak for them, grant blessings in their stead, channeling divine power through some sort of link.

And it's precisely because of this shady process his family had scorned the gods for generations. They were heretics and  nonbelievers, but they ruled well, took care of their kingdom and their people. His father and rest of the royal did what they could, aid the sick and poor, distribute reasonable justice and the likes. But the Amicitias looked upon the gods with scorn. Too many times did religion birth bloody crusades and false gods, killing and persecuting needlessly to bring glory to some deity who didn't deserve even a single utterance. Their priests and supposed Oracles were swindlers and tradesmen at heart, tricking the poor and broken to wring out whatever coin they had left. These “great” gods kept to their cozy palaces and watched from above, toyed with humans as expendable playthings and threw souls into twisted fates for their own enjoyment.

They didn't deserve worship.

“I do. Never do anything yourselves, I got that. I don't expect you to fight my battles for me.” His words come out more scalding than he means to, but it's no simple undertaking to shrug off what had been instilled into him his entire life. Gladio grimaced only slightly. In any other situation with facing a god before him, he would have been more careful; but he bears a covenant with Noctis, which includes a promise that his god will not kill him until their vows are fulfilled. And hopefully, he’ll make a decent enough impression for Noctis to let him go in the end.

The god seems to take no offense to the heated tone, however. “Good. Because I will not stride into the war fields and turn your enemies to dust myself.” He lifts his hands, one gesturing to each of the men at his sides. “They will.”

Gladio nearly chokes on a grape, and he coughs it up, the round fruit rolling across the floor to land at the blonde's shoe. “What?” he rasps through the tears at his eyes, thumping his chest with his fist.

Noctis breathes out a silent laugh. “My Wardens, my most trusted overseers.”

“Ignis Scientia,” says the one on the left as he adjusts his glasses, “The holy fire that bathes the corrupted and nefarious, the flames that burn away the rot of the wound so it may heal, the eternal pyre of rightful judgment and Retribution.”

“Prompto Argentum,” chirps the other, “I'm the swift silver of the executioner's blade, the flash of metal that glints off a mother's knife as she slits the throat of her child's murderer, the final shot of rightful judgment and Retribution.” A bright smile splits across face. “And lover of all things Chocobos.”

Ignis rolls his eyes and groans, sharing a look with Noctis, who only returns the gaze with a shrug.

“But you gods don't do things yourselves?” Gladio questions, though it's more of an uncertain statement. He stops picking at his food, attention entirely focused on the three before him.

“We are not gods. We are his Wardens. I am the holy —”

“Yeah, I think he heard us fine the first time, Iggy,” Prompto quips, before the other could run through his introduction again. He looks to Gladio and shrugs. “We were like you. Humans once, believe it or not.”

Gladio narrows his eyes in skepticism. He's heard stories and myths of legendary heroes ascending to godhood or the likes, but they were only that. Stories.

“No longer humans but not quite gods,” Noctis adds, closing his eyes and nodding sagely. “They act for me when I can't.”

“When you can't? Aren't you gods, y'know, omnipotent?”

With a long suffering sigh, Ignis steps forward. “To some degree, yes. But what would happen if such all-powerful beings clashed with wild abandon? Humankind and the entirety of Eos would be left in ruins and chaos. So the gods made a pact. Should they ever disagree or desire to meddle in human affairs, they would never do so directly and instead use mediums — Oracles, prophets, Wardens, ‘Chosen’ kings and queens or heroes. Even a heretic as you should know that much.”

“Ignis.”

“Apologies,” he says to Noctis. “Ex-heretic. A devout worshipper and blessed champion now, I do believe.” The look he offers Gladio is almost condescending, with that subtle smirk and lift of his brow.

Gladio does his best to ignore that and clears his throat. “Alright, so let me get this straight. I'll have these two pseudo gods fighting with me? That's actually a lot more than I was expecting.”

Noctis smiles wryly. “With a caveat.”

It's Prompto who speaks up now. “We won't be going around and making everyone drop like lead flies. There's some weird and specific rules about how we Wardens get to work but yeah, that's the idea. Except two ‘pseudo gods’ and a prince won't be enough to stop a crazy army and a crazier king.”

“So we make our own.”

They all turn to Noctis, Gladio half-expecting him to summon up a marching brigade at this point.

“You aren't the only one who holds a grudge against Iedolas. More than a handful of kingdoms and nations have fallen because of him, which you could say, works in your favor. There's only say, several thousands who wish for Retribution, wish to see their slain comrades and families avenged.”

It's certainly true. Tenebrae was the first to fall; the midnight attack drowned her forests in a sea of flames, and she was conquered in less than a week. Altissia was confident they would not be invaded; sea-locked as they were, Niflheim would certainly have troubles reaching her island fortresses. But no one expected the flying machines that carried its soldiers across the great oceans. Without a proper military or defense, the lovely island nation was turned into ruins in a matter of days. Niflheim was spreading its claws like a cancer, systematically destroying everything as it greedily swallowed up whatever it came across.

“We'll start with the Galahdians,” Noctis continues, “Nyx Ulric, the one they call ‘Hero,’ and his little ragtag group. Then onto Leide and Duscae and Cleigne, where the Hunters are scattered across. Altissia and Tenebrae have long since fallen, but there are plenty of those who long for freedom and revenge.”

Gladio's head goes spinning. It'll be a lot of travel, a lot of time spent recruiting and staying under Iedolas’ radar. The idea is so daunting he wonders if it would all be possible. But of course it is. He is an Amicitia, wrought from iron and stone, and even if the gods would declare him their enemy, nothing would stand in his way.

But the gods aren't against him — not when he has one vying for his victory. And the fact that Noctis is already putting his plans into motion, actively giving his aid instead of watching at the sidelines is… Almost scary.

Gladio looks from Prompto to Ignis and back to Noctis. “Not to put this the wrong way, but this is a lot more than I expected. It's almost… Unfair?”

Noctis’ expression suddenly goes tight, all mirth replaced by sober eyes and a low voice. “It long stopped being fair when Ardyn started all this.”

Whoever this Ardyn is, it's not good, judging the way his two Wardens stiffen up. Ignis’ jaw perceptively tenses, and even Prompto's sunny aura clouds over.

“Ardyn? This is his doing?” Ignis asks, voice gone rigid.

Noctis sighs and nods, his shoulders sagging as he presses the heel of his palm onto his eye. “He twisted some rules, and of course leave it up to him to find loopholes in our pact. But he's wormed his way into Iedolas, and none of us know what he's really planning or what the reason is.”

“Yeah, well, since when did Ardyn need a reason for anything?” Prompto says, his face scrunching up in distaste. He sounds bitter, almost venomous, a stark contrast to his upbeat personality only moments before. “He didn't need one when he went screwin’ around with my life when I was still human.”

“Ardyn?” Gladio asks, a bit too sharply. He's more than curious about this Ardyn fellow, a god by the sound of it, and the perpetrator for all the disaster and chaos that plunged his kingdom into rubble.

“A god. For the past centuries he's been mostly silent and he fell into obscurity for a time. Until now. Iedolas’ mad conquering spree is from Ardyn's influence,” Noctis answers.

“Why is he doing this?”

“For the only reason he does anything else. Because he's bored and wants to play.” Prompto speaks with that same bitterness. With the way he spits out the words, Gladio knows the guy does not have a good history with Ardyn. He almost feels sorry, but at least they both have a common ground to stand on.

Noctis rises from the stone and dusts off his pants, as if any dirt had gotten on him in the first place. “Bahamut has his hands tied right now, so I'm only levelling the playing field. Iedolas has Ardyn, but now you have me.”

He smiles, a grin so confident and promising that Gladio believes his every word and vow.

“It’ll take time and effort, sweat and blood, but you Amicitias know all about that.” Noctis extends a hand and beckons the other to stand. Gladio obeys, and his god curls his fingers around the lapels of his tattered jacket, dragging the man’s face down to his own. “So just you wait, Prince. For all the denial and heresy you’ve spoken against me, I’ll make a believer out of you yet.”

Noctis’ warm whispers ghost against his own lips, and Gladio wonders if this is another vow in the making. Despite himself, Gladio feels a surge of arrogance and wants to test the waters of his new god’s patience. He quirks a haughty grin and stares into the deep blue pools of Noctis’ eyes. “Is that a promise?” he asks, almost challenging.

Noctis, however, sees through the ruse and lowers his lashes, and he laughs against Gladio’s lips. His fingers uncurl themselves from the leather lapels and move up to lightly grasp the prince’s dark locks, matted with blood and dirt. He slides his hands through them easily enough, and he gently digs his fingernails into Gladio’s skull and tugs him closer.

“A promise.” He passes his lips across Gladio’s, sees the expectant and hungry gaze in this haughty mortal, and stops just a hair’s width before pushing him away. “For another time, dear Champion.”

Gladio swallows down the disappointment, quells the heat rising in his skin. He can work with that; they had all this time, after all, and Gladio could be insufferably patient when he wants to be.

“But for now, my prince, we’ve a war to win.”

Noctis extends a hand. Behind him, where the sunlight peeks through the temple entrance and bathes his dark form with golden light, Gladio imagines a shining halo encompassing his very edges. Like a valkyrie come to take this warrior spirit to the next realm, where his father and his old friends wait. But not yet, not when he's promised a war to fight, and he can't die until he sees Iedolas’ corpse for himself. So instead as a spirit come to whisk him away, Gladio sets him as a goal, a challenge, and a pledge all in one.

“Yeah,” he says thickly, swallowing the anticipation and awe in his voice. He takes Noctis’ outstretched hand, and he's helped up with little to no effort. “Yeah, we do.”

Prompto jumps up and slaps a friendly hand on his back, chirping on about how they'll all get along just fine. Ignis already starts fleshing out Noctis’ plans, throwing ideas and possible avenues this way and that. Between both the Wardens’ words jumbling into each other, Gladio can barely process what either of them say.

The only thing he understands is Noctis’ wicked grin and the glint in his eye, and the oath seared onto his lips and skin. His low laughter sounds like war drums, and Gladio's pulse quickens to match the cadence.

“Ready?” Noctis asks, leading them out of the temple and into the sunlight.

Gladio squints against the harsh rays, but he welcomes them nonetheless. He'll welcome more than a little light, in fact. Rather, bring him fire and steel and gunpowder.

“Ready.”

[takaraphoenix]

“And for the first time that he could remember, he felt fucking safe” Jagnus Ps: I love your fics

Magnus heaved a deep sigh as he slowly sat down on his favorite armchair, using his magic to summon a very strong cocktail. He had earned it, after the night he had had.

“It’s not even noon.”

At first, Magnus startled. He hadn’t lived with someone in so long, he wasn’t used to this anymore. Constantly having someone around his loft. Opening his eyes again, Magnus turned to look at his roommate. His eyes darkened in appreciation as he saw that Jace was only wearing low-riding sweat-pants, hair slick with sweat and messy as Jace had brushed it out of his face.

“I could just open a portal and go to wherever it is evening by now, but quite frankly, I am exhausted”, countered Magnus unimpressed, glaring at him. “And if you plan on lecturing me on my alcohol consume, you will come to regret it, little Shadowhunter.”

“Lecturing?”, huffed Jace and flopped down next to Magnus. “Hand me a glass too.”

Raising one curious eyebrow, Magnus summoned a glass of whiskey for Jace, handing it to the blonde. “Well then, that is far less sad than drinking alone. What are we drinking to?”

“I’m drinking to my little brother telling me to my face I’m not actually his brother. Because the woman I’ve been thinking of as a mother has spent the past weeks implementing that thought in his mind”, snarled Jace with a self-reprimanding smile, lifting his glass. “What about you?”

“I’m drinking to one of your sisters getting my son addicted to her blood”, drawled Magnus.

Jace raised both his eyebrows at that and stared blankly, while Magnus clanked their glasses together. “W—What did you just…”

Magnus shrugged and tilted his head. “It’s most likely not my place to tell you, then again your dear parabatai threw a fuss that I didn’t notice it sooner and didn’t tell him sooner, so I suppose you deserve to know it too. Apparently, dear Isabelle has developed an addiction to yin fen and she started getting Raphael hooked. My boy… I haven’t seen him this broken in a long time.”

Somehow, Jace felt even more hollow at that. Alec knew? And neither Alec nor Izzy had told him? Considering how shitty he had been feeling since Max’s runing party at the Institute… This only made him feel even less like he was a part of the family. Maryse’s half-assed apology hadn’t really helped either. A personal crisis should not make you abandon your family. If they actually were your family. But Alec had told Jace what Maryse had said to him while Jace had been held captive on the Morning Star. He had told Jace after the runing party.

“Robert cheated on Maryse”, stated Jace, eyes unfocused as he took a slow drink.

“Somehow, I can’t find it in myself to be surprised”, drawled Magnus sarcastically. “The woman has been nothing but cold and frigid every time I met her. And from what Isabelle has told me about her childhood and the emotional neglect…”

Jace huffed at that, a bitter expression on his face. It was not comparable to what Michael – Valentine – had put Jace through during his childhood, but he knew that Maryse’s way or treating Isabelle had crippled Isabelle emotionally. Half the time, Jace was pretty sure that it was at fault for the strings of one-night-stands, the lack of friends, the… inability to form genuine human bonds. Though Isabelle and Magnus, they had grown close ever since the warlock had first offered them their help. Both Isabelle and Alec had befriended the warlock. Jace, he wasn’t quite so sure. From day one, he had the feeling that Magnus didn’t really like him. Then again, on day one, it looked like Magnus would persuade Alec – just to in the end give up on it when he noticed just how deep in the closet Alec really was. By now, Alec had come out, taking things at his own pace.

“Guess Alec blaming you for not telling him puts a damper on whatever you have?”, asked Jace.

“We don’t have anything”, huffed Magnus amused. “Your parabatai is delectable and very impressive, but I’m too old to chase after someone in the closet. Me trying to forcibly push him out of the closet and forcing him to go public with something he, only weeks ago, hadn’t even been able to say aloud. No… I truly am too old for that cat and mouse game.”

Jace hummed in acknowledgment at that, emptying his drink. He made an appreciative sound when his glass filled up again, blue magic floating between the glass and Magnus’ hand.

“Handy”, grinned Jace pleased. “So, you and Raphael…? I didn’t realize you were that close.”

“I took him in when he was a fledgling vampire”, sighed Magnus, emptying his own drink. “He is… the closest I have to a son. The closest I’ll ever have to a son. Seeing him like this…”

“How… How is he?”, asked Jace slowly, frowning.

Sighing again, Magnus shook his head. “Not very good. And that Isabelle continues trying to come back for more, tempting him… it’s not helping…”

Jace slumped down on the couch, emptying his second drink. A welcomed silence fell between them as they continued drinking. It was nice. Companionable. And it definitely felt less pathetic than Magnus’ usual daytime drinking all on his own.

/break\

The next time they drank together before noon, neither of them spoke. Not even when Jace sat down next to Magnus. Magnus just immediately summoned a hard drink for him. They didn’t even attempt to banter about reasons for day-drinking. Jace had just tried to sacrifice himself to save the Downworld, just for it to backfire. Innocent Downworlders – warlocks, vampires, werewolves and Seelies alike. They had died and Magnus knew Jace blamed himself. A part of Magnus wanted to encourage the blonde, tell him that it was not his fault. After all, Magnus had been there when Jace had made the decision. The decision that his own life was worth giving for the Downworld. If there was anyone who knew that Jace’s intentions had been pure and selfless. Maybe a bit – lot – suicidal. But Magnus knew that Jace had never meant for anyone to be hurt.

A part of Magnus wanted to tell Jace all of this. The bigger part of Magnus was just so tired of losing his own people to Valentine’s vile genocidal attempts. The warlocks at his old place. The warlocks on the Morning Star. Now the warlocks in the Institute. Magnus was just bone-tired. Grief-struck and tired. He emptied another drink, filling Jace’s glass up too.

/break\

Magnus startled when someone refilled his glass. He looked up bleary-eyed to see his roommate sitting down next to him after taking a swig from the bottle. Blinking slowly, Magnus took a drink.

“Got another bottle?”, asked Jace as he finished this one.

Huffing, Magnus summoned another bottle, as well as a glass for Jace. Today had been hard on them both. Having been hijacked by Valentine of all people. Being tortured. The memories… Memories he had been suppressing for centuries now. His hand shook as he took another slow, deep drink. The day hadn’t exactly been rosy for Jace either though. Having been captured by Valentine, hurt by his father once again. Magnus was the one who had found Jace, beaten, knocked out in the bedroom. The warlock still remembered the state – physical and mental – Jace had been in when he had first moved in, after the Morning Star. Reaching out, Magnus cupped Jace’s face, hand glowing blue as he used his magic to heal the injuries Valentine had caused.

“The physical part can be healed”, sighed Magnus lowly.

“True”, grunted Jace, downing another glass of whiskey. “…How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart”, drawled Magnus.

“Yeah, I’m not buying that shit”, snorted Jace, both eyebrows raised. “I’ve been playing this game for years, Bane. Lying that you’re fine when you’re trying to suppress memories.”

“You’re better than expected”, hummed Magnus, cocking one eyebrow.

“Like I said, I’ve been playing that game for years”, huffed Jace. “I know what it looks like when you’re haunted by flashbacks of the past. That far-off, empty stare you had on when I walked in.”

“I’m impressed”, admitted Magnus, running his fingers along the glass.

“You don’t have to talk about it”, whispered Jace with a shrug. “Just… if you want to, I’ll listen. I know a thing or two about being held captive and tortured, you know.”

Magnus smiled thinly and shook his head. It wasn’t even the torture itself, it were the memories of how his parents had died. But then again, if there was one thing Jace knew about too, it was watching your parent die. That was the moment it hit him how much the two had in common.

Magnus’ eyes darkened as he looked at Jace, watching the way Jace swallowed his drink and ran his fingers through his hair, making the golden hair fall down around his face. He was gorgeous. Leaning over toward Jace, Magnus reached a hand out to rest on Jace’s thigh.

“You know, I don’t want to talk about it, but there is… something else you could do.”

“Are you… coming onto me, Bane?”, asked Jace surprised, one eyebrow raised.

“Depends on your reaction”, hummed Magnus, slowly slipping his his hand down Jace’s thigh.

The next moment, Jace surged forward, grabbing Magnus by the collar and pulling him into a slightly bruising kiss. Magnus smirked as his teeth nicked Jace’s lips. Wrapping an arm around Jace’s waist, he pulled the blonde closer and closer, until Jace was literally sitting on his lap. When they parted, the blonde was panting and looking at Magnus from half-lid eyes, pupils blown and lips swollen. Oh, this was a very good look on the Shadowhunter. Smirking, Magnus allowed his hand to slip from Jace’s waist to cup the blonde’s ass, making him gasp in surprise.

“Interesting”, whispered Magnus curiously, eyes dark as he squeezed again and made Jace mewl.

“Shut up”, growled the Shadowhunter, cheeks red in embarrassment.

“How about… you make me shut up, in the bedroom?”, suggested Magnus, voice like velvet.

Jace shuddered and arched into Magnus’ touch. The warlock reached out to grab Jace by the thighs, right below the swell of his ass, hoisting him up. A gasp escaped Jace as he was manhandled around like that, lifted up and carried like he weighed nothing. Magnus smirked wickedly, knowing exactly what he was doing to Jace. Once in the bedroom, Magnus essentially threw Jace onto the bed, making the blonde gasp. Reaching out, Jace pulled Magnus down with him, into a deep kiss. Both started tugging on each other’s clothes rather harshly, a couple buttons coming off when unbuttoning Magnus’ shirt proved to be too complicated.

“Impatient much, little Shadowhunter?”, growled Magnus amused.

“It’s been a while”, countered Jace irritated, kicking off his pants.

Magnus hummed amused and reached down to cup the blonde’s cock, palming it a couple of times, making Jace groan in pleasure. Though then Jace grabbed Magnus by the shoulders and pushed him down. It was a gentle push, but it told Magnus exactly where the blonde wanted him.

“What? You said I should shut you up in the bedroom. This is a suggestion on how to shut you up”, smirked Jace with a wink, spreading his legs in invitation.

Chuckling, Magnus obeyed and opened up wide, engulfing Jace’s cock with his mouth. Jace moaned in a drawn-out way and bucked up. Humming around the cock in his mouth, Magnus pinned Jace by the waist and started sucking him off. After a while, with Jace’s melodic moaning accompanying him, Magnus used magic to coat his fingers in lube and slowly breached Jace’s puckered entrance. Jace gasped in a strangled way as one of Magnus’ fingers slipped in.

“Fu—uck, Bane w… what are d… o—oh…”, moaned Jace, eyes closed in bliss.

Magnus smirked around Jace’s cock as he added a second finger, digging for Jace’s prostate and rubbing it teasingly while sucking the blonde off. Slowly, Jace seemed to melt beneath him, mewling and whining, fingers clawed into the sheets. It was actually rather endearing.

“Ma—ag…”, drawled Jace out as he orgasmed.

Magnus swallowed most of the cum, licking his lips as he scissored Jace throughout his orgasm. The blonde was boneless as he sprawled out on the bed, sweat glistering on his sun-kissed skin. Kissing the inside of Jace’s thigh, Magnus started nibbling it, leaving a hickey. When he pulled his fingers out of Jace, he started kissing up Jace’s six-pack, wrapping his lips around one of Jace’s nipples. Jace was looking at him with hooded eyes, looking sated.

“Spread your legs some more, blondie”, prompted Magnus, slapping Jace’s flank once.

Raising his eyebrows, Jace slowly spread his legs in invitation, wrapping them around Magnus’ waist and pulling him closer. With magic, Magnus lubed his cock up before slowly slipping it into the loosened hole. Still Jace was so tight. Magnus closed his eyes and groaned as more and more of his cock found its way into that tight, hot hole. Jace’s fingers dug into Magnus’ shoulders, scratching him as he was desperately trying to pull Magnus closer and deeper into himself.

“Fu—uck, how are you so thick?”, asked Jace with gritted teeth.

Laughing, Magnus pushed deeper into Jace. “You’re rather endearing, little Shadowhunter.”

“Shut up, Bane”, growled Jace, biting Magnus’ neck.

Magnus gasped at that, picking up the speed and fucking Jace harder. The blonde beneath him made the hottest sounds every time Magnus hit his prostate. Closing his eyes, Magnus buried his face in Jace’s neck as he came deep inside the blonde. Both were panting and trying to catch their breaths. After a few moments, Magnus rolled off Jace, wrapping one arm around Jace’s shoulders.

“This was… exactly what I needed”, sighed Jace contently, eyes closed.

“Agreed”, hummed Magnus with a pleased and sated look, closing his eyes.

/break\

Occasions to drink before evening seemed to keep piling up and while Magnus was getting the disappointed looks and lectures from Catarina, Raphael and Luke, he could always count on Jace needing a drink just as much as he did. When Valentine escaped, Magnus and Jace got so drunk, they just passed out on the couch together. Every day seemed to call for at least a quick drink. Often, they’d end up in Magnus’ bedroom. Drinking and fucking meant they’d just be too exhausted to think of all the pain, everything that had happened in the past months.

The weird thing was when they started opening up to each other. When Jace had found out he was actually a Herondale, when he found out about his mother’s suicide, Magnus found it in himself to tell Jace about his own mother’s suicide. Hearing about Jace’s childhood of abuse at Valentine’s hand made Magnus feel just a little understood about his time with Asmodeus. It wasn’t the same, but it was somehow closer than Magnus had ever been able to feel with someone.

“I just… Being the High Warlock, it’s… all I was for too long now”, sighed Magnus, gently running his fingers along Jace’s arm as the blonde was curled against him. “It was what defined me for so long. I don’t know what to do. Yes, I have my clients still, but… Lorenzo! He comes in here, taking my position. If it were Catarina, or someone else who has been a part of this community for decades, but Lorenzo just… comes in here, taking everything from me.”

“You’ll get it back”, hummed Jace distracted, nuzzling into Magnus’ neck.

“Really?”, drawled Magnus, playing with Jace’s hair. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Yeah”, shrugged Jace, tilting his head some. “You’re Magnus Bane. This dude’s got nothing on you. Everyone in the community loves you. And sure, siding with the Seelie Queen was the singularly dumbest thing you have ever done, but your intention was to protect your people, so… not really sure why they would punish you for it? You’re benched. But you’ll get back out there. Look at me. I was treated like the local leper after the reveal that I’m a Morgenstern. But I bounced back and now I’m vice-head for the Institute, supporting Alec. If I can do that, damned if you can’t.”

A faint, soft smile found its way onto Magnus’ face at that and he leaned down to kiss Jace gently. “Thank you, sweetheart. I suppose… you’re right. I’ve pushed through worse.” Pausing for a moment, Magnus looked more closely at the blonde, noting the bags beneath his eyes. “How are you doing, little angel? You… haven’t been sleeping a lot lately.”

There was a long stretch of silence in which the naked blonde just buried himself deeper in Magnus’ side. Magnus had learned over the past months that it was best to just give Jace time to open up on his own account. Jace nuzzled into Magnus’ neck, Magnus playing with his hair.

“I think… I’m losing my mind”, whispered Jace, voice barely a breath. “Izzy and Clary are convinced that the Jonathan I’m seeing isn’t real. Alec… he talked to Imogen and I… talked to Luke and… My mother’s suicide wasn’t just one incident. She’s… been ill. And… I might have… inherited it from her. I know they’re all worried about me and they mean well, but… I… What if I go to the Silent Brothers and they can’t help me and I… I will be removed from field work. I… would be nothing if I can’t be a Shadowhunter, Mag…”

“Says the boy who just told me I’d bounce back from not being High Warlock anymore?”, teased Magnus, both eyebrows raised. “Even if you won’t be allowed to go out anymore as a Shadowhunter, you will find something else. You’ll be fine. And the far greater chance is that they will be able to help you, sweetheart.”

“Urgh. Is that what I sound like when I’m trying to encourage you?”, huffed Jace.

Magnus chuckled and shook his head. “Listen. There is a Silent Brother I’d like you to meet. I trust him. He’ll be able to help you. I know he will. Please give it a try, Jace.”

Jace frowned at that. It was untypical for Magnus to call him by his name. Most of the time, Magnus just used a vast variety of nicknames for him. Jace? That meant he was serious. And the edge in his eyes also showed just how serious the warlock was.

“But…”, drawled Jace unsure, laying back down on Magnus’ chest.

“I know”, sighed Magnus, carding his fingers through Jace’s hair. “I know.”

Sighing, Jace closed his eyes and cuddled more up to the warlock. Those were his favorite moments, being curled together after sex. Over the past weeks, their dynamic had changed. They had started out as just roommates. Jace and his Samaritan who had offered him a roof over the head.

But then… they became friends. They had started day-drinking together. At first, just drinking. No talking. Then, slowly, they started to share. To talk. To bond. Now, Jace would actually consider them friends. Magnus might know as much about him as Alec at this point.

Somewhere along the way, the sex had started. On a day when both just needed to forget. Needed a distraction. And it continued happening. Usually when the need to be distracted won out, but sometimes also just out of boredom – and then even just out of horniness. And ‘even’, because Jace used to pick up strangers at the Hunter’s Moon for a one-night-stand. Now, he just walked over to the next room to ask Magnus for a hook-up. Even sober.

The part after sex started to become a problem though. At first, it had just been the part where both passed out from exhaustion and alcohol, waking up in the morning and just parting for the day. By now, they would cuddle up, talk softly about their feelings. Confiding in each other. It was their greatest bonding moment. Most of the time sober too. It had started to change things.

Jace’s feelings had started to change. The appreciation and friendship he had started to feel for Magnus, somehow it had become more than that. Seeing Magnus talk to the kittens made Jace’s heart flutter, Jace had started cooking, in particular Magnus’ favorite meals, he’d seek Magnus out for attention whenever he needed to not be alone. He had started considering Magnus his.

/break\

Magnus had no idea what was going on. He had introduced Jace to Jem Carstairs, had seen him off before Jace went to the Silent Brothers. Then Jem had contacted him again, had requested Magnus’ help – because Jace was possessed. Of course he had helped, rallying up other warlocks willing to help. That was, Alec had put in a word with Lorenzo there, about how the warlocks kind of owed them one for siding with the Seelie Queen and that Alec had kept the Clave from hunting down the individual warlocks who had done so, putting enough pressure on to make Lorenzo cave and ‘show his good will for a healthy and helpful relationship with the Institute’. It worked out for everyone.

But… now it was two months later and Jace, freed from his possession and also having been healed and counseled by Jem, was released from the City of Bones. And yet, he hadn’t come home. No, instead, Magnus had to find out from Alec that Jace had just… moved back to the Institute.

For a couple of days, Magnus just left it at that. It was Jace’s decision and if the blonde decided to be coward enough not to even tell Magnus in person, then Magnus did not need this. Only when Catarina told him that she was not going to listen to him complaining about his boyfriend dumping him any more and that if Magnus did not go and talk to Jace himself, then she would or so help her god. Firstly, he had to correct her about the ‘boyfriend’ part. Then, he had to promise to go and talk to the blonde. Boyfriend or not, Magnus was hurt by Jace just cutting him out like that.

They had been friends. Magnus hadn’t felt this close to someone in a very long time. And if he was being perfectly honest, he had been thinking about how it could be more. Being friends with Jace was good. The sex was also good. And Magnus had come to wonder what maybe going on dates with Jace might be like. Especially after Jace had left for the Silent City, because Magnus had started to realize that he was truly missing the blonde. That the loft suddenly felt too empty and too quiet. Having Jace with him – drinking with him, talking with him, fucking with him, eating with him – it felt so good. It felt good and for the first time in a long, long time, he had someone right there to confide in, someone to trust and hold, to make him feel warm and not alone.

If Jace wanted to call their little friends with benefits deal off, fine. But if Jace thought he could get away with calling their friendship off like that, then he had another thing coming.

/break\

Jace was exhausted from a long mission by the time he returned to his room. It was a nice room. A bell-tower. Large, moody, aesthetically pleasing. Empty, cold and nothing like home. Nothing like the loft. He missed coming home. He missed coming home to his warlock.

“Mag, I’m home”, sighed Jace to himself, with a small sarcastic smile on his lips.

“Wonderful. I’ve been waiting for over an hour now.”

Jace yelped in surprise, staring startled at the warlock, who was sprawled out on Jace’s bed like an over-sized cat claiming his territory. The fact that his eyes were unglamoured helped with that impression. All Jace could do was stare at Magnus, wondering what was going on.

“You know”, started Magnus and heaved a sigh, the look on his face less than impressed. “If you wanted to call it quits on our little… mutually beneficial agreement, you could have just said so.”

“I didn’t… That’s not…”, started Jace with a frustrated frown. “Just go, Mag.”

“No”, hummed Magnus, shaking his head a little. “Not without an explanation.”

Gritting his teeth, Jace sat down next to Magnus. “I… I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you. I like our friendship. I don’t wanna mess it up. But I also don’t know how to… go back to how things were without messing it up. So I just… put seeing you off until I’d find a solution.”

“But you haven’t yet”, concluded Magnus, inspecting his nails. “So, what exactly is the problem that you can’t find a solution to, little Shadowhunter?”

“…The possession”, whispered Jace, not looking at Magnus. “Lilith’s grip on me. Jem was amazed that it hadn’t taken a full hold over me. That I had been able to break it on my own.”

“It’s your special angelic blood that enabled you to, wasn’t it?”, asked Magnus confused.

“No”, muttered Jace, shaking his head. “Lilith used those she had possessed to kill… those they loved. And it wasn’t… It was the strength of my love that gave me the ability to break the possession. Shadowhunters only love once in their life. Fiercely, with their all.”

“Okay…”, nodded Magnus slowly, having a feeling where this was going.

“I can’t be in love with you”, stated Jace as he looked up at Magnus, eyes wide and vulnerable, frightened. “You’re… the first friend I made outside my siblings. And what we had worked. I can’t ruin that by being in love with you and getting my heart broken by you. I can’t-”

“And here I thought”, started Magnus lowly, voice deep like velvet. “Your self-esteem would have had you walk right up to me with a cocky grin, telling me you made reservations for a first date.”

“I’m not…”, started Jace with a glare. “You’re… different. You’re not some one-night-stand. Your opinion matters to me. Your feelings matter to me. I… I’m sorry I hurt them by ignoring you, I just… didn’t know what to say to you. Because I’m not… not ready to be 'let down gently’. Or, well, not so gently now considering I was being a dick, huh?”

“You were”, confirmed Magnus, one eyebrow cocked as he reached out to cup Jace’s cheek. “And you can make it up to me by planning the perfect first date for us, mh?”

“Don’t make fun of me, Bane”, warned Jace with a glare.

“I’m not making fun of you, angel”, assured Magnus as he leaned down and very slowly kissed Jace. “I like you. A lot. I care about you, not just as a friend. I like what we had, but… it could be more than what it is. I want more, Jace. I want you. I want to go on a date with you.”

“Really?”, asked Jace in awe, leaning after Magnus as Magnus leaned away.

Magnus smiled at the gesture, curling his fingers around Jace’s neck and pulling him into a second kiss. “Don’t ever do that again. Don’t shut me out when you don’t know how to deal with your feelings. You and I… The reason we work is because we came to trust each other and talk about the feelings we don’t know how to talk about with anyone else. Okay?”

Nodding slowly, Jace crawled closer to Magnus so he could curl against the warlock. Smiling softly, Magnus wrapped his arms around the blonde, pulling him so close that the Shadowhunter was essentially sitting on his lap, leaning against Magnus’ chest.

“I love you”, mumbled Jace, nose pressed against Magnus’ collarbone. “I love you. I am… in love with you. You did this. You just… with all of your… you… I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart”, smiled Magnus amused, kissing the top of Jace’s head.

Hearing that made Jace’s heart flutter. “I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have avoided you. I’m sorry.”

Closing his eyes, Jace buried his face in Magnus’ chest. The warlock was warm and comfortable and… And for the first time that he could remember, he felt fucking safe.

~*~ The End ~*~

Read this here on FFNet & here on AO3!

[nani-lahiffe]

Fighting Over a Lady’s Love - Chapter 1

Summary: Chat Noir, Queen Bee, and Rena Rouge are in love and arguing on who Ladybug loves more in the group. Carapace doesn't get it, and is constantly annoyed at the rest of the team. Meanwhile, Ladybug just wants the team to get along, and is stressing herself out over it. All of this equals to Ladybug and Carapace together on a rooftop...

Meant to be super short and fluffy, but now it is long and angsty. Whoops

Read it on ao3

Nino has just had the worst day of his life. Between incomplete homework to incomplete housework, he has never had so many people yell at him in just one day. Being a superhero means that he has to pick and choose what to do when he is not saving Paris from akuma attacks, and it is not completely his fault that he spends that time catching up on sleep and mixing some new music. The only time that he truly feels free without any constraints is when he is transformed into Carapace, running on rooftops with magic pulsing around him.

Ladybug and Chat Noir a few months back decided on having patrols which consisted of two members of their team would go out for a night or two during the week and stop crimes. Some nights were slow, and the two partnered up would meet and greet people on the streets or would do mini teambuilding exercises. Two weeks ago, Carapace and Chat Noir went out on a quiet night and Carapace thought it was a great idea to start sparring. Considering he is much better defense than offense, it is safe to say that he still regrets that whole night and thank Wayzz that his suit is so tough. Though he knows he is not the only one with the same experience since Ladybug must have really kicked Queen Bee’s ass since the next day when Queen Bee and Carapace patrolled together she never mentioned Ladybug once.

Tonight was not a normal patrol though. At the beginning of each month all five of them meet to discuss how patrol has gone, new ideas on what to do on patrol, and setting up a new schedule for the month. Carapace always enjoys these days, especially since it is a time he can see his whole team together without having the stress of dealing with an akuma. He is ready to have a blast with his friends and forget all about the disappointed looks that he has been giving all day. He really thought that he was going to have a nice night, and then he heard three agitated voices.

“I don’t even understand why we are arguing about this. I clearly love her more and she obviously loves me back. She is even my best friend out of the mask and hung out with me way before I even got my miraculous. All that alone time together really made us close.” Queen Bee’s voice is very loud and unique, so Carapace has no problem hearing her from a couple of rooftops over.

As he gets closer he starts hearing an irritated Chat Noir say, “I think you are both forgetting that we were partners first, and she without a doubt cares about me. We have been best friends since we were both thrown into this. The longevity of our partnership and the fact we could only rely on each other that whole time proves that she cares about me more.” That is when Carapace realized that their bickering as because of everyone’s favourite heroine, Ladybug.

Queen Bee starts snickering and says, “I’m sorry, didn’t she reject you? You really are a clingy cat, aren’t you?” Pleased with herself she leans back on the roof propping herself up with both arms.

Carapace finally land at their meeting spot and sees the distasteful look that Chat Noir is giving Queen Bee, and Rena Rouge is off to the side looking like she wished that she brought popcorn. Everyone in the group knows that the topic of relationships is off limits around Chat Noir. Sure, he has said many times that he is happy being her friend and he has even toned down the flirting, but anyone can tell that he is still in love with her and it hurts him every time they are with each other. Chat Noir growls, “Shut up, Queenie! You know I don’t care if Ladybug likes me romantically or not!” Chat Noir takes deep breaths to try to calm down before continuing in a strained voice, “Ladybug and I are yin and yang, creation and destruction. We literally complete each other. With that comes the love and trust Ladybug and I have together, and none of you will understand that.”

Rena Rouge rolls her eyes. “Damn, Chat, loosen up. Just because we are not all magically connected to her like you are doesn’t mean we can’t love her, or she can’t love us. I think your also forgetting that I was the first on Ladybug’s list to get a miraculous, so obviously I must be important to her too.” She said firmly crossing her arms over her chest.

“Rena, don’t you already have a boyfriend? Why should this matter to you?” Carapace says in an exasperating tone. He just wanted to have a nice evening with his friends, but of course that even people in this part of his life have to be unhappy too.

He hates whenever the topic of Ladybug and who she cares for more comes up, especially when everyone gets so petty. It started way before when it was still a duo saving Paris and not a team, with Chat getting over-protective of Ladybug and always taking the hits for her. Everyone on the team recognizes that Ladybug is essential to defeating the akumas, so they all have an unspoken agreement to protect her no matter the cost. Though Chat hasn’t quite learned how to share the affection that Ladybug gives to whoever got hit the hardest by the akuma. Carapace knows that Chat was cool when they were all temporary heroes, but once they got their miraculouses permanently it hit him hard. Late nights with Chat taught him that he was terrified of being replaced, and his civilian self doesn’t get as much love and care so looks for that in Ladybug.

Then, Ladybug was Queen Bee’s sexual awakening and the reason why she now comfortably identifies as a lesbian. Mix that with her bluntness, over-the-top ego, and an attitude that suggests that everyone should worship her, Queenie firmly believes that Ladybug should love her more. No one really knows if she is telling the truth about Ladybug and her being friends behind one of the masks, especially since she likes to overexaggerate, but no one tries to fight that fact.

Finally, there was Rena, who Carapace feels like he knows the least about. Why she keeps putting herself into these conversations is a mystery, but he has a theory that she gets amused by this ongoing quarrel. Rather that or Rena truly cares about Ladybug and she is important somehow in Rena’s civilian life. Either way, Carapace is constantly confused as to why everyone he knows, both in and out of the mask, is in love with Ladybug.

Everyone turned to look at Carapace, acknowledging for the first time that he was there. Chat Noir was the first to speak, “Hey, dude! Maybe you can help us out settle this disagreement that I have clearly won.” He puts his arm around Carapace’s shoulders and flashes his most charismatic smile that he must practice for how genuine it seems.

Carapace removes the arm around him and looks Chat Noir dead in the eye with the most unimpressed face. “No.”

“You’re such a buzzkill,” says Queen Bee flipping her ponytail, “Just admit that I’m better than this stupid cat. I mean, who would want a partner that always ends up under an akuma’s control?”

Carapace puts his arm out to prevent Chat from pouncing on her. “Calm down, Chat! It is always the same stupid argument with all you dudes. Ladybug is her own person and can decide herself how many close relationships she wants. Also, what would she think if she saw what was going on here? We all know that she could take our miraculouses if she has to, and I don’t know about you guys, but I quite like being Carapace,” he scolds.

“He is right you know,” says Ladybug finally revealing herself from where she was hiding a rooftop over. Once she swings in, she puts her hands on her waist and gives them all the dirtiest look. “We are a team and if some of your personal feelings are affecting the job then I suggest you give up your miraculous now.”

Everyone just stares at each other, feeling guilty about being caught in such a trivial fight. The rest of the night continues awkwardly with stilted conversation and many moments of silence. It was definitely not the stress relieving night that Carapace was hoping for. Usually once all of the serious talk was done they would all just hang out and have some fun, but tonight they all end up leaving rather quickly until it is only Ladybug and Carapace left on the rooftop.

“Since you seem to be one of the only sane people in the group, thank you for trying to diffuse the situation earlier.” Ladybug gives him a warm smile until a frown appears on her face again. “I just wish that they would stop fighting over me. Chat and I have talked about his feelings before and I know that he is still trying to work through his abandonment issues, but I don’t know how much tension between all of us I can take. It is also not helpful that Queen Bee has always hated Chat, even before she got her miraculous. She is probably trying to rile him up. Do you think I should talk to her?”

Carapace looks over to Ladybug and can physically see how stressed she is over this. The whole team sees Ladybug and Chat Noir as their leaders, so combining the anxiety of commanding everyone to the pressure of being the only one that can purify the akumas, being Ladybug has taken a toll on her. Carapace also has no idea her life is like behind the mask, so she could be in an even worse mental health space than he thinks. Putting a hand on her shoulder he says, “You are probably the only one that can get through to Queen Bee. Dude won’t listen to anyone else. Listen, LB, if you ever need me for anything, and I really mean anything, I am here to help you. If you really want to just take a couple nights of patrol off and I can do them for you. You care so much about other people’s feeling that you need to start caring for yourself too.”

Tears start gushing out as she sobs. Carapace steps forward and hugs her tightly. He usually panics when around crying people, so he continues to comfort her with the embrace, waiting for her to eventually calm down on her own. Even though he sometimes doesn’t know how to handle them, he cares a lot about other people’s emotions, as can be seen with how he was once akumatized. Ladybug a couple of minutes later pulls away from him and rubs her cheeks to get rid of the tears. Her voice is wavering when she says, “Thanks, I really needed that.”

Carapace strokes her arms. “Like I said before, I am here whenever you need me.”

“Sometimes it is hard to find someone to just cry to. I can’t with my family because they don’t know about me being Ladybug and I would hate for them to worry about me. My friends are also so stubborn that they won’t let it go and will demand answers that I can’t give them. I also feel like I need to be strong in front of the team all the time too. Before I would talk to Chat, but even that felt to limited because of our masks. And now I feel as if we are drifting apart a bit. Of course, I still love and trust him, but he has his own issues to deal with, so I doubt he will care about me complaining all the time.”

“What about your kwami?”

“She’s the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, and she has the biggest heart in her tiny body. She is always so supportive in everything I do, but I feel like she is too perfect at times. A being that is thousands of years old giving me advice about my life is kind of intimidating at times.”

“Yeah, I feel that. My little dude is quite the philosopher. Sometimes I just want to be a teenager and make mistakes that I will regret in 30 years instead of worrying about everything he blabbers on about.” Carapace really needs alcohol from how this evening ended up, but he knows that if he tries Wayzz will only complain the whole time.

Ladybug giggles at that. “Wayzz definitely acts like an old man with the wisdom he spouts sometimes.”

“Right, I keep forgetting that you have actually met him before.” It is sometimes weird to think that someone out in Paris held his miraculous recently, and is still a hidden guide for the team, even though only two of them have met him. “Hey, what about the dude who used to wield my miraculous? Can’t you talk to him?”

Ladybug pauses for a moment with a contemplative look on her face. “I guess I could, but I usually only see him when there is an emergency. He heals people for a living, so maybe that’s exactly what my mind needs. Thanks, Ni – I mean Carapace.” She leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

“Like I’ve said a million times tonight, anytime.” He looks at her fondly and ruffles her hair. He knows exactly why his teammates love Ladybug so much, though it is a different feeling for him. He loves her like he would love a sibling, a comfortable and familiar love that he feels like he has felt before. “Now go on, go home and get some sleep. If your day tomorrow is anything like mine, then sleep is necessary.”

Ladybug laughs and throws her yoyo. Before she steps off the building she looks back to him and says, “Once again, thank you for listening to me and letting me cry on you.” He waves it off showing that it was no problem, then she jumps into the night, swinging throughout Paris.

He wishes that he could have done more, but he knows Ladybug’s limits when it comes to this. Carapace can only hope that some of Wayzz’s wisdom has passed on to him, and in turn, passed to Ladybug. But enough of worrying about that, he had an early morning tomorrow and a bed that will warmly embrace him soon.

Though of course, he didn’t know things were going to get even more complicated when pictures of him and Ladybug up on the rooftop gets sent out to the world.

[alloverthegaf]

@thatoboekid​ was wondering what Tony Stark fic recs I’ve got and I have a literal archive of them, so I thought every month(?) I’d rec a random 10? all of them will be, if not Tony-centric, centric around a relationship involving Tony.

here’s the first 10!

A Cabin in the Woods by nightwalker : steve/tony, established relationship, horror, 26,779 words

It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, a chance for them to spend some time as a couple and work out some of the kinks in their relationship. That was before everything got weird.

Not Just Monsters by thefrogg : Tony & Clint, de-aging, Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting, 2,271 words

Two Avengers hide under a bed

You Know How to Give by @brandnewfashion​ : Steve/Tony, team as family, humour, friendship, 6,250 words

Steve was one of very few people who knew that the real Tony Stark was thoughtful and selfless, and genuinely cared about others.

The problem? The man was absolute shit at showing it.

He Blinded Me With Science by orbingarrow : Steve/Tony, AU; Office, fluff, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, 9,202 words

The Security Admin Department at Stark Industries has a point system in place to pass the time.

+10 points for tagging management with a "Kick Me" post it note +10 points for paging a punny fake name over the office intercom without getting caught +10 points for stealing any office supplies off Clint's desk and returning it in jello +20 points for making Steve swear

It's a good thing productivity isn't in the job description.

Even Darkness Must Pass by Finely_Honed : Bucky/Tony, Parent Tony, hurt/comfort, PTSD, 15,689 words

“Fake it till you make it,” Bucky whispered to himself, swallowing around his panic. Sam had drilled the idea into him, and it had become a mantra of sorts, something to hold onto when all he wanted to do was blend into the shadows and disappear.

“You’ll be fine.”

Steve placed a warm, strong hand on Bucky’s shoulder and squeezed, his super soldier ears having picked up Bucky uttering the now familiar saying.

Bucky nodded, tried to believe his own words, and followed Steve onto the common floor, a wall of sound hitting them as they entered.

5 Times Bucky Thought Tony Was Good For Steve +1 Time He Told Him by theapplepielifestyle : Steve/Tony, 5 Things, POV Outsider, 6,077 words

To say Bucky is unimpressed by Stark would be an understatement.

It isn’t that he dislikes him. It’s more that he’s a brand of indifferent that curdles with disdain on the rare occasion that Bucky catches him on the TV: Stark is glib and crass in a way his father never was, and he wears suits like he’d slipped out of the womb clad in Armani.

So it’s a surprise when Bucky moves into the Tower and finds that Steve actually gets along with the guy.

Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies by MemoryDragon : Steve & Tony, implied child abuse, pre-slash, team fic, de-aging, 31,765 words

Seven-year-old Tony Stark wakes up on a Hydra base, lost, afraid, and alone. He has to overcome his fears before it's too late for the Avengers and Captain America.

Phil Coulson Doesn’t Work for StarkIndustries by @scifigrl47​ : Steve/Tony, humour, teambuilding, 32,034 words

Sleeping with a super hero is great, until he becomes a little restless at night. Tony Stark, not the easiest sleeper himself, knows his way around a nightmare, but what do you do when protecting the ones you love leads to unexpected international incidents? Subtitled: lying to Steve Rogers is much harder than it looks.

Phil Coulson's the one in charge of writing this nonsense up, and he does not work at StarkIndustries.

Not just a river in Egypt (Tony is most certainly not in denial) by  theoddoodisnude : Steve/Tony, fluff, Tony doesn’t believe Steve’s in love with him, 7,428 words

"You are most definitely not in love with me, Cap, what you are experiencing is called cabin pressure," Tony explains, because he has a rational train of thought and he's met enough shrinks to have figured out their tactics by now. "And possibly, you know, sexual frustration, because it doesn't matter at all that you're, like, America's national icon, Fury still won't let you out. I know that, I see that, I acknowledge your pain, I feel with you, Cap, believe me, I do. And I get it, because I am a very good-looking fellow and we spend a lot of time together, stuck in this tower, and it's easy to--"

"I am," Steve cuts off, equal parts amused and frustrated and concerned. "In love. With you. Tony, I'm in love with you."

Fiercer and More Frail by icarus_chained : Rhodey/Tony, AU; soulmates, friendship, sacrifice, 3,770 words

Soulbond AU. In a world where soulbonds exist and are sacrosanct, Tony and Rhodey do not have a bond. Then Afghanistan happens.

hey authors if I didn’t properly tag you I’m sorry, either I didn’t know your tumblr url or for some reason tumblr just wouldn’t let me