#ganglie trying to pick people up and failing

[marreddream]

sleighed Based on Magia Report S2E212

[cursedonyx]

How the HL Cast Act When They’re Drunk 🍻

Sebastian Sallow

This lad has three main modes when he’s had a few to drink, and it’s all entirely dependent on how he was feeling beforehand. He will either be the sweetest, cuddliest little snugglebug you’ve ever met, who hugs anyone and everyone regardless of how well he knows them and tells everyone he loves them (unless he’s in an established relationship, then his partner is the only one who receives such ardent affection), or he could be the life and soul of the party, challenging everyone to dares, games and other challenges, accepting pretty much all dares for a laugh, encouraging people to get up and dance and have fun, telling outrageous jokes and more… Or, he will be sullen, moody, and prone to fights. It’s best not to let Sebastian drink too much if he’s in a grump, because it won’t end well.

He's got a pretty good memory for his drunk antics and never gets blackout. This is useful for both making sure his friends are safe and for embarrassing everyone with tales of their conduct the next day, but it’s a double-edged sword, as he will remember everything he did as well.

Ominis Gaunt

A charming man at the best of times, drunk Ominis is a shameless flirt, and will make pretty much everyone fall in love with him at some point during the course of the evening, regardless of which way they swing. He’s got a pretty good head on his shoulders and tends to toe the line of tipsy and inebriated quite well, but if he pitches a bit too far and ends up sauced, his inhibitions are going to go right out the window. He’ll be the first to dance on a tabletop, he swears far more frequently and is prone to showing off a bit, though he still draws the line at public nudity, which is a shame. Chances are, if there’s a piano nearby, he’ll play for everyone with exceptional skill and, if the stars align, he’ll even sing, which is a rare treat for all involved. Mans got the voice of an angel. If he’s in an established relationship, he’s far more comfortable with PDAs and will be much more open to experimenting with his partner once they’re alone.

Though he rarely gets blackout drunk, Ominis can struggle to remember all the details of what he got up to if he has one too many, which without fail will leave him utterly mortified and swearing never to drink again, even if he had a good time. It’ll take a week or two before he’s ready to even have a glass of wine with dinner if he’s embarrassed himself.

Garreth Weasley

Garreth is usually the one to bring his experimental brews to the party and he’s usually swiftly banned from wherever the drinks are being kept. Regardless, after a few bevvies he’s loud, boisterous, and usually found challenging Sebastian to various dares and competitions. A cheerful and popular chap, Garreth is likely to get people singing along to various songs he knows, or ones he’s made up on the spot. Whilst not as tall as Leander, Garreth is a big lad and quite strong too, so any of the girls present might find themselves picked up without warning and swung all about as he tries to dance, and one of his favourite memories of a previous party is trying to pick up all the girls at once and immediately falling over, ending up buried under a pile of laughing women. If Garreth is in an established relationship, very little changes, but you can be safe in the knowledge that even though he's flirting, that’s as far as it will ever go.

Garreth never gets hangovers, no matter how much he drinks, and he’ll be the first one awake the next day, helping to clean up or cook breakfast or make everyone a strong cup of tea.

Leander Prewett

Bless his heart, Leander tries very hard to fit in with his friends and as such will likely end up drinking too much too quickly, meaning he’s usually the first one to suffer the worst effects of drinking. That said, he handles it well, and after chundering once or twice he’s usually ready to keep going. Being a gangly lad, his sense of balance is terrible when he’s blotto, and he’ll trip on a bit of dense air if there’s nothing else to fall over. If the others manage to keep his drinking at a reasonable pace, Leander will often be found trying to flirt with everyone, and though he doesn’t have Ominis’ natural talent for it, he’s a surprisingly smooth talker when he’s not worried about being rejected, and he’s pretty much guaranteed to go home with someone at the end of the night. That is, if he’s single. If Leander is in an established relationship, he’ll follow his partner around, making sure they’re comfortable, warning off potential challenges to his territory, and he won’t even look at another girl.

Leander’s memory of the night before will be hazy at best, and though he knows full well he probably embarrassed himself, he’ll choose to believe he didn’t, so long as no one got hurt.

Amit Thakkar

Amit doesn’t drink much at all, but when he does and has one too many, he’s going to be talking at a mile a minute about whatever’s on his mind, whether that’s his memoirs, his gobbledegook, his stargazing, other people at the party, who he fancies, any gossip he’s overheard, and on and on and on and on. At some point during the night, he stops talking, sits down in the nearest seat, curls up and goes to sleep, no matter how noisy it is, and it’s pretty much like someone flipped a switch. You could be sitting on the sofa with him listening to him babble, then literally a second later he’s out for the count, and he probably won’t wake up for a good few hours, so move him somewhere where he won’t be trodden on. If Amit is in an established relationship, nothing changes about his drunk behaviour, because he’s endearingly loyal at the best of times.

Amit remembers well who he spoke to and what about, but rarely does he realise how much he gabbles on. He tends to take this with a reasonable degree of humility, but aside from hoping he didn’t bore anyone, he’s content that he didn’t embarrass himself.

Andrew Larson

He’s going to be mooning after everyone pretty the moment he gets trashed, and if Ominis is playing the piano, that lad better hope he’s got his girlfriend nearby because Andrew’s going to try his luck and be deeply disappointed by the inevitable rejection. Andrew lives by his emotions and will cry at the drop of a hat or a picture of a cat if he’s had enough to drink, but he will be laughing seconds later if someone falls over or tells him a joke. If the mood takes him, he’ll likely be having long, philosophical debates with anyone who’ll listen (most likely Amit) and he’s prone to wandering off at random moments because he saw something interesting and wants to go on an adventure. He needs a minder. If Andrew is in an established relationship he’s less likely to be a liability because his Alice in Wonderland moments are going to be focused entirely on his partner (and Ominis will remain unaccosted).

Andrew sways between having a good memory for his antics and remembering absolutely nada, sometimes in the same night. Parts of the evening will be clear as day, and parts will be obscured completely. He doesn’t tend to feel too embarrassed for himself, but more for others because it’s a guarantee someone else is going to have done something worse.

Natsai Onai

Even hammered, Natty is the mum friend. She’s the one making sure everyone drinks water in between their booze-infused bevvies, helping people up if they fall over, cleaning up puke and intervening in any brewing fights. Left to her own devices when no one needs her help, she’s sneakily encouraging Garreth to sing rude, memorable shanties, Poppy to climb the walls and jump on people, and Sebastian to run around the garden in the buff because if he doesn’t then Leander will. A master of planting ideas in drunk people’s heads, she usually makes sure things don’t go too far while masterminding entertainment for everyone involved. If Natty is in an established relationship, she’ll still be doing all of the above, but her partner needs to steer her more into the ‘having fun’ side of things so people don’t come to rely on her too much.

She’s got a reasonable memory for drunk happenings, but as she usually doesn’t embarrass herself, she’s pretty good to go the morning after. That said, if Natty does something embarrassing, she goes the whole hog, like the time she got stuck on the roof with only a tea towel for cover. That gets brought up a lot, and she wants to sink into the ground every time it does.

Poppy Sweeting

If you thought Poppy was a nutter beforehand, just wait until she’s got some beers in her. Poppy will be the first to try swinging from the chandelier, the first to encourage everyone to do shots, the first to run around the room with her shirt off, the real life and soul of the party. Once she’s drunk, she’s feral, and will climb over everyone and everything. Once she’s spent her boundless energy, she becomes incredibly cuddly, and if she chooses you to cuddle good luck getting her off you. Regardless of who you’re both respectively dating, you may find yourself going home with Poppy and her partner if the two of you aren’t together and she chooses you to snuggle. It’s not that she’s trying to get you in bed, she just loves cuddles and you smell safe.

She remembers nothing. Absolutely zilch once her blood alcohol level reaches a certain point. No embarrassment either, no matter what she did, she’s just happy everyone had fun.

Imelda Reyes

Competitive as ever, Imelda will likely be challenging people to drinking competitions (and usually Leander’s the only one to take her up on it, most people know better). Imelda has the blood of a Scot (and likely a Viking too) so she can outdrink almost everyone with relative ease. That said, once she’s drunk, she’s drunk. Swaying all over the place, her accent almost incomprehensible, and prone to getting into fights, Imelda is either the worst person to drink with, or the best. If she decides she’s looking after you that night, you’ll not have to worry about a thing, this girl would fight off a dragon for you. If you want to do something, whether it’s playing a certain game, talking to a certain someone, or just chilling outside for a bit, Imelda will make it happen. If you’re not the Chosen One, you can expect things to be very chaotic around Imelda when she gets cunted. If Imelda has a partner, her Chosen One will always be them.

Imelda’s memory is crystal, and no matter what she did, she feels no shame. Why would she? She was only looking out for her bestie or lover, and if someone got offended over that, well then that’s their problem. She’s not responsible for other people’s emotional reactions, after all.

Duncan Hobhouse

Will boast about being able to outdrink Imelda, then throw up and pass out after two butterbeers. Best to move him outside, because he’s going to shit his pants.

Masterlist

[inoreuct]

Little headcanon/tidbit time :D it takes a while for him to be comfortable doing so, but whenever sanji gets nightmares now he shuffles over to zoros bunk and climbs in. He tries not to wake Zoro but always fails, zoro just nuzzles his face in Sanjis hair and holds him close until he stops trembling <3 zoro is reluctant to seek the same sort of comfort for his own nightmares no matter how desperately he wants it, until one night hes so tired he just gives up and crawls under the blankets next to the cook, from then on it's a regular occurrence

zoro is used to waking up with someone crawling into his bed; a very specific blond, gangly someone with terrifyingly sharp elbows and ginger hands, trying to fit the both of them in a bunk not made for two. he is used to waking up to sanji’s shaking shoulders. he is used to pulling the cook to his chest, whispering sweet nothings into his hair, running a soothing palm up and down his spine until he’s calmed down from whatever had come for him when he’d closed his eyes. he is used to draping an arm around sanji’s waist and drifting off as the cook wraps lithe arms across his back and tosses a leg over his hip, a cold nose shoved into the crook of his neck, figuring out how their bodies fit together as if they don’t already know.

in the beginning, zoro hadn’t understood why sanji had chosen him of all people; now he’s just grateful for the privilege. he enjoys providing that sense of safety. he likes being the protector, the one who can pick up the slack when his nakama are tired, and sanji is much, much more than just nakama to him.

but right now his blood is thrumming electric with adrenaline and he can feel every single beat of his heart through his entire body, too fast and too hard and too loud in his ears. every time this happens he talks himself down, wraps his forearms low over his gut and curls up, breathes through it until it no longer feels like he’s about to shatter out of his skin. he’s supposed to be the strong one. the safe haven.

but he’s tired. he’s so, so tired, and sanji is just two bunks away, and zoro wants. he wants, desperately, and maybe he’s so tired that he just doesn’t care anymore—

because he gets up quietly, his fingertips numb, avoiding the creaky plank that he knows is there as he creeps over to sanji’s bed and sits at the edge of the mattress. his boyfriend is sound asleep, face smooth and devoid of worry. he should go back; there really is no reason to—

“m’rimo?” sanji squints up at him, raising a hand to scrub over his face, and zoro goes still like it would make him invisible. it doesn’t work, of course, and the cook seems to understand immediately, tugging the blanket out from under zoro’s weight and lifting the corner. “c’mere.”

and who is zoro not to listen? he crawls beneath the blanket, squeezing himself small so that they can both fit. he isn't the lightest; he doubts sanji would be comfortable with zoro laying on top of him, but the cook puts a stop to that by pressing a hand to the back of zoro's neck and pulling him down. “i said come here," sanji grumbles, wiggling until zoro is settled on his chest. “nightmare?”

“mm,” zoro mumbles, already a bit too gone to deny it. he's warm, he's safe, sanji's slender fingers are carding through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and it might just be the best thing in the world right now. the exhaustion slams into him like a battering ram and punches the buzzing, frantic dance straight out from under his skin; he lets himself capsize, sinking down, down, down into the darkness, but he is present enough to feel it when sanji presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

he slides his hands up, palms spread on either side of sanji’s ribs; laying like this zoro can hear every beat of his heart, feel it against his temple and cheekbone, feel the rise and fall of his lover’s lungs, soothing as the rocking of the sea. “go to sleep,” sanji breathes, quiet; the words are pressed into his hair and they wrap him in a gossamer veil of comfort, fragile in the velvet darkness of the quarters they share.

he lets his eyes slip shut and feels the last of the tension drain out of him from the way sanji kneads gently at his nape, knees coming up to bracket zoro’s waist. the cook’s sleep shirt is soft beneath his cheek; one of zoro’s old ones, he suddenly remembers, that he’d worn faded and threadbare and had found mysteriously missing from his closet. sanji smells good, like clean things and warmth and the faint milky-sweet scent of his soap on his skin, and zoro nuzzles into his chest as familiar hands tuck under his arms to press grounding between his shoulder blades.

he falls asleep. sanji’s heartbeat is the only thing he knows.

[multifandoms27-blog]

Aaaaaaaa!!!!!! Bro im genuinely so happy you write for gyutaro, theres almost next to nothing abt him 😭😭

Can i request some hc of a masc but if not that's okay s/o whose taller than Gyutaro and who loves to spoil and fluster/embarrass him with so much affection?? Like everytime they see him, its kisses to his birthmarks, gentle touches, and so many affirming words 💖💖

I'm just so down bad lately bro, also good luck with college!!! I know it gets super hectic, but i know you can do this!!!

I KNOW HE DESERVES BETTER <3 Also, thank you for the college encouragment :3

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Content: Gyutaro x masc!Reader

Warnings: Possessiveness

Notes: This can be read with any pronouns, feel free to read <3 also this was supposed to be put up hours ago, but I got some Halloween decorations for my hamster <33 (he's so cute y'all would love him)

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UGH

Coming from a woman who is masc, and normally taller than every man I meet (including my current boyfriend LOL) I can relate hard to this

ANYWAY LOL

Gyutaro is going to be put off by someone taller than him, as that doesn't...usually happen

I know he's kinda gangly, and his official height hasn't actually been officially stated, but we know he envies Tengen for being "well over six feet." So, I'd deduce that Gyutaro is in the 5'10" - 5'11" range

The first time you raise your hand to caress his cheek, he's going to flinch, thinking you're gonna hit him

But he softens and relaxes when you smile and softly drag your thumb over his cheek

Is going to stumble on hit feet whenever you bombard his face with kisses, feeling especially shy when you kiss his scars and birth marks

Is going to squeal like a girl when you pick him up and run off with him possibly to the bedroom hehehe

Is going to blush profusely and possibly even become a tsundere for a bit, not believing that you actually love him, and thinking that you just want something from him

However, the more attention you pay to him, show you trust him completely, and how many people you reject for him out of all people...okay, maybe he'll begin to accept that you truly love him

Not to say that he doesn't already love you - he was smitten from the first kind act you did for him

He's still going to scratch his skin off if he sees someone come up to you

He anxiously waits to see if you walk off with them or not. A part of him will always think you'll leave him, thanks to his upbringing

Is gonna want to devour anyone who even looks in your direction

All he can do is hold your hand and grumble, though, not feeling as big of a need to protect you as you're bigger than him

He's still really jealous and possessive. The "you know other men?" meme kinda vibe lol

When you give him unsolicited reassuring words while kissing him and holding him, he's going to be so quiet and feel so small

"N-no, you don't really mean that..."

"But I do! I love you, Gyu, and you need to know that you're adorable!"

Gyutaro is going to take a while to get used to your gentle touch, but after eating with Ume, or after he sees someone fail at trying to sweep you off your feet, he'll gently grab your hand and place it on his cheek, hoping you'll get the hint and caress him again.

You're his and only his! Nobody else can have your gentle touch, your loving words and gaze, or your affections! Only him! Only Gyutaro!

He might end up snapping and going on a rampage if someone says one bad thing about you, especially if you're not there

He can't survive without you! How dare someone try to soil you?!

Will develop a habit of plopping in your lap and huffing when he's upset, or just wants attention

Really likes to feel small and safe with you, will frequently ask for headpats

Wants you to mark him so people (especially other demons) can know that he's yours 😤

He also just really likes admiring the marks, and will heal them quicker if it means you'll give him more <3

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Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

[headcanonsandmore]

Time Spent Apart

Summary: Ron and Hermione meet during the summer before fifth year. Time spent apart makes the heart grow fonder, and all that...

Tagging: @princesserica84

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                     Read on FFN.                                   Read on AO3.

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Hermione’s throat seemed to close up. Ron was standing on the bottom step of the staircase, and was grinning down at her, one hand resting on the bannister, and the other on the wall. His hair had grown out slightly, and the small amount of childhood puppy-fat on his face had disappeared. His arms and legs seemed to have grown even longer, and his chest had bulked out, so that his t-shirt was stretched over his muscles.

‘Er, Hermione?’

Blushing furiously, Hermione realised that she had been staring at Ron with her mouth open for several seconds now.

‘H-hi Ron,’ she stammered, trying to compose her face.

Ron looked down at his chest.

‘What?’ he asked, puzzled. ‘Have I got mustard down my front again?’

Hermione smiled.

‘No. Just…you look…different.’

‘Yeah, if “different” means that he looks like even more of a gangly prat,’ chortled Ginny, elbowing Ron out of the way, and giving Hermione a hug.

Mentally cursing the Weasley siblings’ propensity for picking on each-other, Hermione gave Ginny a reproachful look as she pulled away. Ginny, however, didn’t seem to notice, and walked off to the kitchen, still chuckling under her breath.  

The atmosphere between Hermione and Ron seemed to turn icy, like the temperature had dropped. Ron gave a sad sigh, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

‘So, good summer?’

‘It was okay.’ Hermione mumbled, not quite meeting Ron’s eyes. She had enjoyed seeing her parents again, but she had also spent the few weeks since the end of term missing Harry, Ginny and especially the redheaded boy who stood in front of her. ‘You?’

Ron shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Do…do I really look different?’ Hermione was startled to hear the worry in Ron’s voice. He was clearly conscious about his appearance, and Ginny’s teasing was not helping.

Hermione locked eyes with him, and she smiled warmly.

‘Ron, you look great,’ she said, her cheeks feeling slightly flushed.

‘Really?’

‘To me, you always have done.’

Ron’s eyes widened slightly, and his ears turned a subtle shade of pink. He gave a nervous smile.

‘Thanks.’

‘No problem.’

He hopped down off the step, and stood in front of her. He seemed to be even taller than normal, and Hermione felt her heart beat faster.

Ron bent down to lift up her trunk.

‘You’re staying in Ginny’s room,’ he said, as he began to haul the heavy object up the stairs. ‘I’ll show you the way.’

‘Thanks.’

After what seemed like barely seconds, Ron had dumped her trunk next to the spare bed in Ginny’s room, and was leaning against the door to catch his breath. Hermione tried not to stare as he wiped the sweat from his brow, and how his t-shirt was clinging to his muscles more than ever.

‘I almost forgot that you keep half a library with you at all times,’ he chuckled, as he brushed his long hair out of his eyes.

‘They’re called books, Ron,’ Hermione exclaimed, praying that her cheeks weren’t flushing. ‘You should read one someday.’

Ron laughed, his cheeks dimpling as he did so. Hermione’s stomach did another backflip; making Ron laugh was something that always did funny things to her. Especially since most people never found her funny. But he always did.

‘You know, sometimes I wonder why you hang around with me,’ he gasped, clutching his sides. ‘And then I remember that we bicker with each-other like no-one’s business.’

‘Honestly, Ron!’ Hermione placed her hands on her hips. ‘I’m not friends with you just because I like bickering with you.’

‘But it’s the main reason, right?’ Ron smirked, giving her his patented lopsided grin which never failed to make her heart beat fast.

‘You’re impossible!’

‘Thanks.’

She glowered at him for a moment.

‘In actuality, Ron,’ she continued. ‘I hang out with you because I enjoy your company, as impossible as that sounds.’

Ron’s eyes widened slightly. He evidently hadn’t been expecting her to say that.

‘Er, thanks,’ he mumbled.

Ron stepped forward, looking nervous, and, (before Hermione knew what he was doing) pulled her into a hug. Hermione breathed in his sweet, warm smell, and felt her stomach flip as his large hands patted her softly on the back.

‘I missed us bickering. I missed you,’ he whispered, almost to himself.

Hermione swallowed, wrapping her arms around Ron’s enormous back.

‘I…I missed you too,’ she murmured.

They awkwardly broke away from each-other. Ron rubbed his neck again.

‘Dinner will probably be ready soon,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘Mum’ll call you down with Ginny.’

‘Oh, okay,’ Hermione couldn’t help but feel somewhat self-conscious. She wasn’t really used to Ron displaying physical affection to her, but she…quite liked it.

Ron turned to leave, and began to walk through the door. However, just before he reached to close the heavy door, he stopped and turned to look at her.

Hermione felt his blue eyes focus on her, and her insides gave an exhilarated moan. Ron bit down on his lower lip, looking deep in thought.

‘You…you look great too, Hermione.’

He reached out and closed the door quickly, and Hermione heard his heavy footsteps as he began to descend the staircase outside.

She continued to stand where Ron had left her. Her hands rose slowly to her mouth, and her knees felt weak.

Oh, Ron, she thought as her heart continued to pound, you impossible boy…why do you have to make this so complicated…?

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Happy Valentines Day, everyone! Hope you enjoyed this little drabble!

[fruitcoops]

I was wondering if I could request something? Maybe Sirius' first night at the Dumais' place and Dumo can straight away tell that somethings wrong. Sirius makes polite conversation and it all looks so painful until he retires for the night and Dumo passes by his room and he hears Sirius crying maybe? Because of what his mother said, and maybe because he has trouble adjusting to new situations? Just an idea that popped into my head :) Only if you want to write it <3 Thank you

Yes, I can! I love writing Dumo, but for some reason I don't do it that often--his and Sirius' dynamic is just so wholesome and wonderful. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for implied child abuse and broken glass (no injury)

The first thing Pascal Dumais noticed about Sirius Black was how quiet he was. At only eighteen years old, Sirius was taller than most of the other Lions, with broad shoulders and gangly limbs. Yet he moved almost silently, padding along the wood floors in his socks and speaking only when spoken to. It was…honestly, a bit unsettling.

Dumo had expected a rambunctious teenage boy, still high on the thrill of being drafted to the NHL—instead, he found himself the guardian-slash-landlord of a ghost. Sirius unloaded his meager belongings with little fuss and accepted no help, his pale eyes never lingering on either of them for too long.

Celeste poked her head into the living room in the early afternoon when they returned from the grocery store; Sirius was sitting ramrod straight in the smallest chair they had with a thick book in his hands. She knocked gently on the doorframe, and he jumped. “Sirius, would you like some lunch?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” he said in that unusually soft voice.

“It’s no trouble,” she assured him.

“I can make myself a sandwich if you have other things to do. Really, I’m alright.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Sirius blinked, as if he hadn’t expected her to ask, then glanced at the clock on the wall. “I had breakfast at seven and a granola bar on the plane.”

“Sirius, it’s almost two.”

“Is it?”

“Come with me for a moment, oui?” She ushered him into the kitchen; Dumo wasn’t sure he would ever get used to seeing someone so physically imposing walk so small.

“Papa?” Someone tugged on the hem of his shirt and he snapped out of his daze, leaning down to lift Adele into his arms with a smile.

“Bonjour, mon chou! Did you have fun outside?” She nodded, wiggling a little in her excitement, and put her hands on either side of his face. Dumo’s stomach sank. “Why are your hands wet?”

“I washed them!”

“Why?”

“Because we played with chalk!”

Both the boys were at day camp, and Katie was down for her afternoon nap. Dumo wracked his brain. “Who were you playing with?”

“Sirius!” she giggled, then held the front of her shirt out. Wasn’t she wearing a different one this morning?“An’ he said chalk stains, so he lifted me up so I could wash my hands and helped me get my new shirt on when it got stuck and let me braid his hair! Can we keep him? Please, Papa, I wanna keep him forever!”

Dumo kissed her forehead as a wave of emotion tickled the back of his throat. Less than six hours in their home, and Sirius was already connecting with his children. “Oui, we can. Did you say thank you?”

Adele bit her lower lip. “I don’t remember.”

“Sirius?” Dumo called. The clanking in the kitchen stopped. “Can you come here for a moment?”

There was a beat of silence before he appeared in the doorway, looking paler than before as he walked over to them. This boy needs to eat more, the parental part of Dumo’s brain thought instantly. Slate-grey eyes flickered between them. “She—she had chalk on her shirt. I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

“It’s alright. What do you say?” Dumo asked, turning to Adele.

She turned a beaming smile on Sirius. “Thank you!”

His whole face softened in the blink of an eye and he smiled back, giving her a light fist bump. “Pas de problem, petit papillon.”

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

Sirius opened up a bit over lunch; Adele perched herself right in his lap with her peanut butter sandwich to his clear astonishment, but his smiles came easier after that and Dumo treasured each one. He was already grateful that Sirius did not seem like the type of asshole player that Dumo remembered from his high school years.

Marc and Louis returned to the house just as they finished, and though Sirius offered to help wash the dishes—the boy was a blessing, really—they shooed him off to play with the kids for a while. It would do them all some good to get out in the sun.

“Quiet, isn’t he?” Celeste remarked as they stood side-by-side at the sink. Her tone was casual, but Dumo saw the worry in her eyes.

He hummed in agreement. “He’s probably just nervous, mon amour. They can take a while to warm up.”

“Pascal, I don’t think—”

The sound of shattering glass echoed from the other room. The house held its breath. “Is everyone alright?” Dumo called, drying his hands on the nearest towel as his pulse picked up. “What happened?”

Hushed whispers floated out, followed by the pitter-patter of little feet. He hurried down the hall with Celeste hot on his heels. “I’m so sorry,” Sirius said as they entered the room. He was kneeling on the wood floor, gathering fragments of a small water glass in one palm. “It was my fault. I hit it with my elbow.”

Celeste frowned. “Boys? Adele? I know you were here.”

Dumo didn’t miss Sirius’ hard swallow, nor the sudden nervousness—no, that was fear—on his face as the three kids crept out from around the corner, looking guiltier than anything. Adele stepped forward, but Sirius stood in a smooth, instinctive motion, keeping her behind him. “It was my fault,” he repeated. Dumo’s heart sank.

“Adele, is that true?”

She looked up toward Sirius, who kept his broad hand ever so slightly in front of her shoulder. Celeste raised an eyebrow. “Adele Marie, tell the truth.”

“No,” she said.

“Come here, please.” Dumo watched Sirius’ breaths go shallow as Celeste beckoned to Adele, but confusion took its place when she crouched to her level. “Thank you. What Sirius did was very nice, but we don’t let other people take the fall for our mistakes in this house, Adele. We accept responsibility. Who broke the cup?”

“I was chasing Marc and we both bumped into the table,” Adele confessed, toying with the hem of her butterfly-patterned shirt. “It was an accident, I promise.”

“Did anyone get hit by the glass?” Dumo asked. All three shook their heads. “Sirius?”

He cleared his throat. “No, Mr. Dumais.”

“Marc, Adele, I want you to find the broom and dustpan so your mother and I can clean this up. Thank you for being honest. Sirius, there’s a trash can in the kitchen, but be careful of the sharp edges. And please, call me Pascal or Dumo.”

But he didn’t stop thinking about the visible alarm on Sirius’ face when Celeste brought Adele forward all afternoon. Something was not right.

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

If it wasn’t for the baby, Dumo would not have heard it.

Katie woke around midnight with a quiet whine, which devolved into whimpering, and finally into full-out sobbing for over half an hour. He carried her downstairs so she wouldn’t wake the others and gently rocked her, humming lullabies under his breath until his throat was dry and her tears abated. “There’s my good girl,” he murmured, drying her pudgy cheeks with his sleeve.

The last bits of sleep faded away as he set her down in her crib again, and he sighed. The season didn’t start for more than a month, but he had been looking forward to a few consecutive nights of solid rest before then.

May as well check on the others, he thought, wandering down the hallway in his thickest socks and bathrobe to stave off the nighttime chill. Marc and Louis were each out cold; he took the open book splayed across Marc’s bed and set it on his dresser, turning the lamp off as he left. Adele was curled into a tight ball around no less than four of her precious stuffed animals and he tucked the blankets back over her shoulder.

Dumo’s feet carried him down the stairs before his brain fully caught up, and he paused—Sirius had been in their house for a single day, and already he had the urge to look out for him. The thought should have made him feel silly, but instead he felt…peaceful. He felt right. There was a lost and near-silent boy in his home, who protected his kids within hours of knowing them. Of course Dumo was going to make sure he was alright.

Summer wind rushed past the wide windows as he headed toward the basement. It was warmer there, and he took a moment to mentally pat himself on the back for remodeling two years prior. Hopefully, Sirius would be comfortable.

A soft sound broke through his thoughts. Dumo stopped on the last step.

There was a harsh breath, then a sniffle, as if the person inside was trying and failing to keep their tears in past the point of no return. He heard a few shaky, weak inhales, then a choked noise that cut off abruptly with a gulp.

Dumo closed his eyes to hold back tears of his own and knocked lightly on the bedroom door.

Everything went silent with a rustle.

“Sirius?” he whispered, raising his voice just enough to be heard through the door. “Are you awake?”

There was no answer.

“Can I come in?” he ventured.

An unsteady voice answered. “Ouais.”

The door creaked a little as he opened it and stepped into the dark room. Sirius was nothing more than a clump of shadows on the far side of the bed, squished tight against the wall with all his blankets wrapped around him. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Je vais bien.”

“Can I sit?” Dumo fully expected Sirius to tell him ‘no’, to make an excuse, to pull some arrogant teenager nonsense.

Instead, he tucked his legs up and made room near the foot of the bed with another sniffle. “Did I wake you?”

“Non. Katie was crying, and I thought I’d check on everyone.” He settled down and scooted until his back was against the wall as well—Sirius was still hiding in a cocoon of his duvet, but his hand came up to wipe his face. “Do you want to talk?”

“About what?”

“You seem upset. I know the homesickness is hard for the first few days, but—”

“No.” The vehemence of Sirius’ answer shocked him into silence. “No. I’m not homesick. I just—so much has happened, and I—it’s—this is everything I wanted, right here, and—”

He broke off with a wounded noise that broke Dumo’s poor heart right down the middle. He moved closer until their shoulders touched; to his surprise, Sirius leaned on him and shivered. “How can I help you?” Dumo asked quietly.

“Your family…” Sirius shook his head and drew the covers tighter. “You have a beautiful family. You should be proud of them.”

“I am, every day.”

“Your kids love you so much.” It was barely more than a whisper.

Dumo sighed through his nose. “I know.”

“No, you don’t, they—you’re their hero. And not because of hockey.”

That was Dumo’s dream, laid out right in front of him. If someone he hardly knew could see that, then it must be true. The impact was greater than he ever could have imagined; his lungs felt tight. “Thank you. Is it alright if I ask you something?”

Sirius stiffened slightly.

“You’re not in trouble, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just…worried.”

He felt Sirius shift. “This is about the glass.” It wasn’t a question.

“Oui.” Dumo searched for the words and scrounged up any sliver of tact he could find. “Sirius, do you—what happens when you break a glass at your house?”

Sirius’ breath rushed from his lungs in a near-silent sob. Dumo gathered him close in his arms and held him, letting tears dampen his shoulder as he murmured soft reassurances in French. “I’m sorry,” Sirius croaked, though he did not move away. “I’m sorry for—for intruding, and for ruining your shirt—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Dumo gave him a light squeeze of comfort and felt him go a bit boneless. “And you are not intruding. We love having you here with us.”

“Really?”

He sounded so unsure. So young. Dumo wished he could take away whatever horrible things had been said to ever make someone so kind feel so small. “Yes. Adele, especially.”

“She’s so…colorful.” Fondness dripped from every word.

“She is,” Dumo agreed. “She came running up to me, and went ‘papa, papa, can we keep him?’”

Sirius laughed a little at his imitation and straightened up, drying his eyes on his hoodie sleeve. They sat quietly for a while until the shaking stopped and his death grip on the comforter loosened. “Thank you, Mr. Dumais.”

“Call me Pascal, or Dumo if you like. ‘Mr. Dumais’ makes me sound like a grandfather.” They laughed together, then fell silent once more. “And you’re welcome. Any time you need help, you can come to me. I might not be your father, but—”

“You’re better,” Sirius interrupted, wiping his nose. His shadow turned to face Dumo in the dark, and though he couldn’t see his face, he could picture the earnest expression. “In every way. Please don’t tell anyone about this, though.”

“It never even crossed my mind,” Dumo answered honestly. “I should let you sleep now. We have some busy weeks ahead of us, eh?”

“Bonne nuit, M—Dumo.” The name carried new weight and he let it sink in as Sirius laid back down and kicked his blankets back into place. Something told him this was the beginning of a very interesting story.

“Bonne nuit, Sirius. Welcome to our home.”

[restapesta]

gossip never ends

Mickey Milkovich simply just showed up one day at the Old Army, tattoos on his knuckles and a scowl on his face. Lola couldn't help but be intrigued -- nobody lasts here long enough to pique her interest, but there was something special about this guy. The gossip spreads like wildfire, but Mickey's something else altogether -- it's just a matter of time before Lola and her friends figured out why.

OR: How Mickey's coworkers found out about who Mickey really was back in season 10 -- this is more of an outlook on Mickey and his feelings throughout season 10 and how it reflected on his job and altogether his demeanor.

This is based on a prompt by @whatwouldmickeydo which was also even more explored by one of my favorite Gallavich accounts on Tumblr @ianandmickeygallavich -- so, I simply just worked through what they had already created. I hope they don't mind I used their prompt and this is dedicated to both of them! Enjoy!

words: 5.3k

The gossip began almost the exact moment Mickey was introduced to the three workers by the manager.

The Old Army staff was not a stranger to new workers coming and going, some people sticking around longer, working for a couple of months without stop, maybe even sticking around for a full-time position; some just passing through while on trial-basis, failing to meet the manager's demands and simply moving on to find better or more fitting employment -- but the sight of Mickey Milkovich was definitely not something, Lola thought, anybody, not just the curious employees, was used to.

Lola fell into the group of people who had been working at the store for ages now, starting years ago and still sticking around now, subsequently being present for all the biggest changes made to and within the popular store. She saw the interior change, the managers shift, the employees getting hired and fired -- she saw it all. It couldn't be said for many people. Honestly, only three members of the Old Army staff had actually been working full-time here, while everybody else was just a passing face.

She was so used to seeing new faces that it simply did not phase her anymore -- Lola had her own stable position in the store; she had her colleagues which she got along with, and she never paid much attention to the newbies once they came into the store. She knew it was almost always just for a short while, basically until they made a mistake while working and got politely declined for the position, so she usually just remained civil, not engaging in much mingling or bonding -- it wouldn't last anyway.

The staff change happened way too often, especially with security. The store management had no idea how to pick the right person for the job -- they either always chose the gangly, skinny types; the ones who couldn't defend others or themselves from a burglar if their life depended on it, or they chose the fatties who had a donut too many during their break and couldn't chase ten feet after the culprit.

Still, this guy -- this new, weirdly interesting guy -- seemed promising.

Lola had no idea where they managed to find him -- he was kinda hot, and definitely in really good shape with thighs and calves that could probably kill if they wanted to. He seemed crude and unapproachable, and the brooding, mysterious attitude definitely didn't quench anybody's curiosity as to where the hell he came from and how the hell they managed to find him of all the people in the world. A scowl was constantly etched on the newcomer's face -- not just when he was being introduced to the staff by the manager, as Lola thought would be the case -- but literally at every single given moment of the workday.

There were only rare moments Lola and the others saw him smile -- usually every single one of those moments being when he was texting someone during his break, or when he was coming back from having lunch with someone at the food court. Not that anyone would dare ask who, although they definitely speculated.

Mickey was the type of guy Lola was interested in making friends with. She approached him once during their shared shift -- usually, she wouldn't even bother, seeing how these guards come and go, but this one really piqued her interest -- trying to figure out who he was, where he came from, what he was doing here. Was he single? She needed to know for her lady friend considering how he was most definitely a sight for sore eyes.

It came as somewhat a surprise when he gave off clipped answers to her questions, most of them not even answering.

"Did you always work security?" She'd ask with a bright smile.

"You could say that."

Silence.

"How long are you planning on staying with us?" Trial-basis or undefined employment? Lola wondered silently.

"Until Larry finds me a better job."

Silence.

"Who?"

Silence. And then a quick, "Never mind."

Lola had officially given up on her efforts to befriend and find out more about the man once Mickey gave her a sharp, pointed stare after she pointed out he didn't have a ring on his finger, hoping he would reveal his relationship status to her.

She most certainly wasn't that lucky, and she almost shat her pants at the murderous expression on his face. She didn't ask again.

The others tried to pry information out of Mickey too, but they certainly lacked the subtlety Lola had. She honestly couldn't say she was the most discreet person in the world, but she was in the Old Army, considering how she found herself working with the two most non-discreet people in the world. Lola was upfront too -- let's not get that wrong.

But at least she didn't outright ask him if he was in a gang like Jeremy did.

"I wanted to know if the tattoos were gang symbols! They freaked me out!" The skinny twenty-year-old replied when the other workers gaped at him with wide eyes.

Jenna shook her head. "Dude, you can't just ask a guy if he was in a gang."

He wouldn't reveal his age, let alone his gang status if he had one, Lola scolded Jeremy mentally. The guy was as open as a seashell -- you could try and pry it open to see if it had a pearl inside, but you'll most likely fail and, to be honest, probably get pinched in the process, if not careful. It was perhaps best not to even try or, if you did, to proceed with extreme caution. A bunch of seashells didn't even have pearls in them anyway, so it'd all be useless in the end.

It only took a week for the staff to find out how Mickey managed to find himself here at Old Army out of all the possible places in the world. It was a shock, to say the least.

One morning, the revelation came when Larry Seaver showed up to the store, dressed in a nice suit and tie, wearing his casual, perky smile. He asked for the manager and had greeted Mickey immediately once he laid eyes on the man. Larry approached him as Jeremy went to get the manager, placing a firm hand on Mickey's shoulder, smiling widely at him.

Lola and Jenna weren't snooping, but they did manage to overhear Larry asking Mickey if he enjoyed working here; if everything was going well; if he was staying out of trouble -- a question that certainly didn't help stop the gossip -- and if he settled in home nicely.

Mickey responded to most of his questions with short, non-descriptive answers, but not with any malice or disdain. He answered them as if he had to, putting an emphasis on the "I'm not getting into any trouble, don't worry Mr. Cheery," making Lola wonder why the question even needed to be posed.

When the manager finally showed up, greeting the man happily, Larry followed him to his office, leaving the others to get back to the customers -- and some to get back to stopping crime. It was only when Larry Seaver left that Jenna shouted, "Oh my God, he's a parole officer!" at the other two workers while drinking coffee in the break room.

"He's a what?" Jeremy asked, slightly confused.

"A parole officer! I heard him talking to the manager about Mickey and how he's settling in. Mickey is a parolee!"

"Jesus Christ, I knew it! And you told me I shouldn't be scared." Jeremy answered with a sullen look, exaggerating a shudder.

Lola quirked an eyebrow at her friend. "Were you eavesdropping?" She was more amused than surprised if she was honest.

Jenna shook her head at Lola in exasperation. "So not the point. Lola, the guy went to prison!"

"We should all just quit now," Jeremy added.

"Come on, you big baby. The guy keeps to himself. You have literally nothing to be scared of." Lola was rolling her eyes at the man, slightly annoyed at the comments.

It didn't surprise her Mickey was here on parole -- it didn't surprise her he was in prison at all. He seemed like the type, not just because of his sullen look and crude knuckle tattoos. It also had a lot to do with the way he carried himself as if the entire world was against him and he needed to protect himself from the inevitable upcoming battle. It was probably why he never spoke to anybody, why he never had coffee with them, and why he seemed to avoid human contact at all possible times. It was also, now, very much obvious why he was so good at guarding the store -- it takes a criminal to catch a criminal, she guessed.

Honestly, it all just made him more interesting.

"I kind of think it's hot," Jenna admitted sheepishly.

Jeremy's eyes bulged out. "You're kidding me."

She shook her head, smiling like a teenage girl. "He's dark, brooding, mysterious. And he's got a really nice ass."

Lola laughed at her friend and at Jeremy's horrified expression. "You should go flirt with him. Maybe you'll be able to figure out if he's single or not." She was only partly joking. Jenna probably didn't need a repeat of what Lola had gone through.

She sighed sadly. "A guy like that is not single."

"Yeah, sure. An ex-con definitely isn't single and is probably in an extremely committed relationship with somebody who loves him for who he is. And that same ex-con guy totally loves somebody back with his whole, entire heart." Jeremy quipped sarcastically and Jenna pinched his bicep in response.

"Love is love, asshole. People murder for love."

Jeremy nodded in response. "Exactly. That's probably why he was in prison."

Jenna rolled her eyes. "You know what? Unlike Jeremy here, I'm not a pussy. I'm gonna go talk to him."

Lola's eyes widened in response and she smiled widely. If anyone would take the bullet for the team, it'd be Jenna. "You go, girl! Get him. Just make sure to be subtle about it"

Jeremy and Lola watched as Jenna went up to Mickey who was standing next to the Old Army store entrance, looking as bored and uninterested as ever. When he saw Jenna approaching, he grimaced, obviously preparing himself for the confrontation.

Jeremy and Lola locked eyes as Jenna began to audibly flirt with Mickey. They couldn't hear everything she was saying from where they were eavesdropping but they didn't hear Mickey even speak. Based on the disappointed look on Jenna's face when she walked into the break room again, they didn't think it went that well.

"So?" Lola inquired hopefully.

Jenna shook her head. "Completely uninterested. I even made my boobs look bigger in this shirt. Didn't work, obviously."

"What'd he say?" Lola probed deeper.

"Well, I asked where he lived, where he used to work, if he was settling in nicely -- and he just kind of hummed."

"Hummed?"

"He barely even answered the questions."

"Maybe he's gay and in a committed relationship with a dude," Jeremy added sarcastically, once again. "Maybe I should go up and flirt with him instead. See if it works for me."

Jenna rolled her eyes at Jeremy's sarcasm. "You're too big of a pussy to do it. Plus he's probably not gay."

Jeremy didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he just smiled. "Whatever you say, Jenny. Oh, by the way -- I totally am."

Mickey never spent his break with the others. In fact, he was either sitting outside the store, drinking Pinkberry and messing around with his phone, or he was at the food court, presumably meeting somebody for lunch. Lola was dying to know who, but she never dared to ask or to check, although it would have been so easy.

The curiosity extended out of the workplace as well -- Jenna, Lola, and Jeremy had a group chat. It was, at first, formed as a work chat, purely for announcements and work hours, but as time passed -- and as the employees and employers changed -- it evolved into something much more. Now, it was their main gossiping media.

 --- old army besties ---

LOLA (9:56 PM): I can't find him anywhere on social media.

JEREMY (9:58 PM): You're obsessed.

LOLA (9:58 PM): Fuck off, Jeremy.

JENNA (10:03 PM): There are a bunch of articles about him escaping prison!!!!!!!!!

LOLA (10:04 PM): NO SHIT

LOLA (10:04 PM): LINK NOW

LOLA (10:04 PM): !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JENNA (10:06 PM): https://images.app.goo.gl/rzDzCogf1H84QD78A

JENNA (10:06 PM): HEHAGDJADGAIGDAJFGAJFGAJFGA

LOLA (10:08 PM): oh my god

JENNA (10:08 PM): I KNOW

JEREMY (10:07 PM): ya'll are crazy

JENNA (10:08 PM): Is it bad it just makes me even more attracted to him??????

JEREMY (10:09 PM): yes.

LOLA (10:09 PM): NO!

LOLA (10:10 PM): Jenna, same.

JEREMY (10:11 PM): I have a psych ward to recommend you to. Hold up.

JENNA (10:11 PM): Jeremy, stfu

*JEREMY has left the chat*

LOLA (10:12 PM): You wanna add him back in or should I?

JENNA (10:12 PM): Neither.

JENNA (10:12 PM): Let him suffer.

 The gossiping continued for a while. It didn't honestly seem like it would stop at all, and nobody really seemed inclined to put an end to the wildfire gossip that spread through the entire Old Army staff. Not that anyone cared much, either, if they were being completely honest.

One day, though, the Mickey who was always grumpy and never without a scowl seemed particularly furious.

He spoke to no one, he didn't check his phone at all, which was a rare occurrence and almost never happened -- he was usually glued to the thing, always texting someone -- and he basically looked like he was ready to kill the next person who dared steal something from the store.

"Anyone wanna ask what crawled up his ass and died?" Jenna asked lowly, observing Mickey from where she and Lola stood behind the cash register. Jeremy hung around in the back, angry that they still hadn't added him back to the group chat.

Lola simply grimaced. "I guess we've been dealing with happy Mickey all this time."

Jeremy pretended not to pay much attention to them, very much bitter. He just muttered, as a side note, loud enough to get even Mickey's attention, "Yo, I guess they found who killed that parole officer."

That piqued Lola's interest. The murder was all over the news the day before -- a parole officer named Paula had been thrown out the window -- and Lola didn't expect them to have found the killer so soon.

"Already?" She wondered, out loud.

"Who is it?" Jenna asked.

"Some ex of hers -- Shelly, I think. They arrested her yesterday."

Lola released a sigh. "That's some good news. Now she can't hurt anybody else." She mentally applauded the police for the good and quick work.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mickey was listening in to their conversation. She could have sworn she heard him snort when she muttered the last part, the one about it being good news. She saw an opening, and when Lola began to open her mouth and try and include him in the conversation, he had already turned around and left to stand back at his regular spot, expression sullen, pretending as if he never even cared to listen in after all.

Mickey was gone all of a sudden one day -- as the manager had told them briefly, on paid leave. He didn't reveal why or when he'd be coming back, only saying how Mickey had something important come up, and that he'd eventually be back. He didn't seem to be aggravated while talking about Mickey, so Lola guessed he didn't get fired, nor that he was being tested again for his position -- he had honestly been doing great. Better than the ones before him, at least.

Lola was actually somewhat shocked. She was also slightly disappointed he didn't tell her.

Mickey had actually started opening up a little -- not much (when she said little she meant very little) -- but he was finally communicating with them during their shift together, something he most certainly hadn't even tried to do, no matter how hard they tried to push. He also seemed happier, coming in one morning looking the happiest Lola had ever seen him.

It was the first day Mickey made actual conversation with her -- about the ugly clothes in the store, nevertheless -- and she genuinely was starting to like him.

"Maybe he likes you," Jenna told her after noticing them talking.

Lola blushed. "Probably not."

Jeremy snorted and both women turned towards him. "He's probably more attracted to me than you." He muttered absentmindedly while scrolling through his phone.

"Still sticking to the gay theory?" Jenna asked pointedly.

"I may not be dark, brooding, and mysterious, but my gaydar is on point. At first, I was skeptical, but he rocks that pink pastel shirt a little too well." He said, a small smile playing on his lips.

Jenna and Lola shared a look before both rolling their eyes.

"Let's hope he asks you out." Jenna finished and Lola blushed even more. Stupid crush. Jeremy snorted.

She was a little disappointed he was gone but his step-in was a cute guy and the gossip between her, Jeremy, and Jenna was endless -- Jenna and Lola came up with different theories as to where he was which all ranged from family emergencies to crazy prison breaks -- Jeremy would simply roll their eyes at them whenever a new theory came up.

When Mickey came back a couple of days later, it seemed as if he had a spring in his step. For the first time in all the time Lola had known him, instead of a scowl, there was a smile present on his face.

"Holy shit, he's smiling." Jenna pointed out incredulously, and Lola simply nodded shell-shocked. He had a beautiful smile.

It was even weirder when he greeted them when he walked into the store, uttering a simple, "Hey" which neither woman expected.

"So, that's happy Mickey," Lola said under her breath. "Good to know."

The sudden chirpiness didn't disappear throughout his entire shift and Lola began to wonder what type of vacation he had gone on to be this happy. She needed to ask him -- if it could take the stick out of his ass, then it could definitely make her feel like she was in heaven.

The answer came shortly after.

"He's got a ring on his finger."

"What?" Lola and Jenna exclaimed simultaneously, looking at Jeremy like he was crazy.

"The hell are you talking about?" Jenna asked, glancing between Jeremy and Mickey, inconspicuously trying to catch a glimpse of Mickey's hand.

"He's married, guys. He probably got married while he was away. There is a golden band on his ring finger."

Lola and Jenna were surprised they missed it. The ring shone brightly on his left hand, reflecting the shitty lighting of the Old Army store. It looked beautiful and, somehow, it made him look complete. She didn't even realize something was missing until it was there, staring straight at them. That's what the wedding ring seemed like -- a piece of Mickey they were all simply missing. Something that let them know that there was somebody in his life, a single person, who had his heart -- a person who managed to pry open the shell and find the pearl. Perhaps the process was painless; perhaps it wasn't -- Lola supposed there were only two people in the universe who truly knew the answer to that question.

"Well, I didn't see that coming."

Lola chuckled, letting the genuine happiness she felt for him consume her. "Me either."

The next time she passed him, she smiled at the ring widely. "Congratulations! I see the ring." She pointed at his hand.

Mickey smiled softly, gazing at it with a look in his eye Lola could only describe as love. "Yeah, thanks."He seemed a little uncomfortable, so Lola refrained from asking about his wife, and if he had any pictures to show her. She was learning new things about this man every day. The woman who tied him down must have been patient, but also extremely lucky.

"Ugh, I wish he was single," Jenna muttered again later on in the day, gazing longingly at Mickey's ass. "That butt makes the whole ex-con, escaping prison thing worth it."

Lola laughed at her friend, agreeing silently.

It was nearing the end of their shift, and the four people had changed out of their uniforms, getting rid of the ugly pastel pink color, exchanging it with something that was actually fashionable -- Mickey had an especially good fashion sense, in Lola's opinion (he could rock ripped jeans). Mickey had still been in the staff changing room when Lola noticed a guy hanging around the store. A tall, extremely hot redheaded guy, with one of the best bodies she'd seen on a man in a while.

She shook Jenna's arm so she could point out the guy to her, aware that Jenna deserved to gaze at a man this good-looking. He was wearing a tight-fitting black shirt along with skinny jeans that accentuated all of his muscles, from the ones in his arms to his leg ones -- he was ripped, and Lola could only assume there were chiseled abs hiding underneath the shirt. He was drop-dead gorgeous.

Jenna turned around to see what the fuss was about, but her mouth fell open when her eyes landed in the ginger.

"Oh my God, I think just came."

"Me too," Lola admitted. She was genuinely concerned for her wellbeing. "I think we need to get laid."

"Definitely." Jenna's eyes were glued to the man. His hair was perfect too -- slicked back, and just... it was a sort of, ' you simply had to see it to believe it' type of situation. He was beautiful. "Man, how the fuck does God create these men?"

Jenna didn't tear her eyes away. "He must be either really bad in bed or a total douchebag. There's no way he's that hot and nice too."

They suddenly heard Mickey's voice behind them. "Trust me, he's neither."

Lola and Jenna jumped in surprise, but she didn't even have a moment to think about what Mickey said. She was still looking at the ginger, but his green eyes were locked on somebody else though, and he didn't even seem to notice the two women gaping openly at him.

When Lola turned to follow his gaze she was surprised to see it land on Mickey.

"Oh my dear Lord, he's totally eye-fucking Mickey!" She whisper-shouted at Jenna, Mickey being far away not to hear her. Jenna whipped her head around towards where Mickey stood, seemingly unaware.

"Oh my God, he totally is!"

Mickey noticed them staring. He raised an eyebrow at the two women and then as if on a whim, approached them. "You need anything?" He asked, seemingly uncomfortable, but he still paid no attention to the fact a guy was blatantly letting it show on his face that he was imagining all of the things he could probably be doing to Mickey, right now. The redhead had the biggest case of bed-eyes she'd seen in a while.

Lola blinked herself out of her daze. "Um, no. Uh, we just-- we, uh--" She was at a loss for words and Jenna didn't seem to even think about helping.

"Ugh, God." They suddenly heard Jeremy exclaim. All eyes turned to him. "There's a really hot guy outside the store, and he's staring at you." He made a gesture as if saying, 'See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?'. "That's what they're trying to say."

Mickey turned to look forward outside and when his gaze fell on the guy -- the guy he had most certainly already noticed -- his face lit up even more, and his lip curled into a smirk. He turned towards Jeremy and nodded at him. "Glad to see you toughening up."

Jeremy smiled at Mickey as if they were sharing an inside joke, and both Lola and Jenna had no idea what it was. They shared a disbelieving look. "Learned from the best, man," Jeremy replied as they fist-bumped and Lola knew her and Jenna's eyes had to be unnaturally wide.

"So um, so you know the guy outside? He's totally checking you out." Jenna nodded at the hot guy who was still watching them -- watching Mickey, specifically. Lola guessed he was waiting for him, for whatever reason. She guessed hot guys stuck together. If he wasn't a ginger, Lola would have assumed they were brothers and that the good looks simply ran in the gene pool. Lola watched as Mickey locked eyes with the man and smiled. The guy raised his eyebrows in question and Mickey just kept the grin on his face.

"That's Ian, my husband."

Shock couldn't even begin to describe what Lola was currently feeling. If somebody had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water down her back, she would have probably been less surprised. As she was contemplating everything she knew and had been learning about Mickey, the man in question waved towards Ian to join them. Ian made his way inside and Lola could lie and say she didn't swoon.

"Hi." He greeted sheepishly with a smile, previously observing the commotion.

Mickey seemed unnaturally relaxed as he stood close to Ian, wrapping a hand behind his back subconsciously. Lola wondered who the man in front of her was -- it most certainly wasn't the grump Lola had been working with all this time.

"Ian, meet Lola, Jenna, and Jeremy."

Ian smiled politely at all three of them, leaving Lola in a daze -- God, he was gorgeous. She was just about to reply when he nodded at Jeremy specifically. "Sup, Jeremy. Heard a lot about you."

Jeremy smiled back at Ian. "Same, dude. Your husband just can't seem to shut up about you."

Ian smirked, and then turned to look at Mickey, "Is that so?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Fuck you both. I got married. What am I supposed to do? Just shut up about it? Hell no."

Ian laughed and draped an arm around Mickey's shoulder. "Don't worry, baby. I don't mind."

Ian and Mickey shared a quick look, and Lola wondered if she would ever find a person who would look at her the way these two men looked at each other. She suddenly felt bad for thinking Mickey was straight -- everything about this simple interaction screamed gay.

"We should head home, I know you've been waiting for ages outside."

Ian nodded. "Yeah okay, let's go." He then smiled at the three people in front of them widely. "It was nice meeting you guys."

Jeremy was the only one capable of responding. "You too."

"See ya'," Mickey muttered lamely as a goodbye and the couple was out of the store in the blink of an eye, arms wrapped around each other, talking quietly, their expressions pure happiness.

Lola and Jenna turned around to stare at their friend.

"What the fuck was that?" Lola asked, incredulous.

The traitor in front of them shrugged. "What? While you guys were coming up with conspiracies and weird theories, I actually talked to the guy. He's pretty cool. He was raised and lives on the Southside where he met Ian. He first spent some time in juvie. Got shot twice. Went to prison, escaped from prison, went to Mexico, worked for a cartel, rolled on said cartel be with Ian. They were in prison together and they decided to get married when they got out. He's actually been giving me tips to boost my street cred. We've been working on that shit for some time now."

Lola shook her head in thought. "When did you guys become so close?"

Jeremy snorted. "When you decided not 5o add me back to the group chat, bitches." He smirked. "Revenge is a dish best served cold." As an afterthought, he added, "I'm not dark and brooding, but I guess I can add mysterious to my list of charms."

Lola and Jenna watched him as he turned around.

"Is it just me or did he suddenly get hot?"

Lola sighed loudly. "I think we've been tricked."

Jenna groaned, suddenly. "I can't believe it. Two men that hot -- and they end up with each other. Like, what the fuck? Why can't there be one for me?"

Lola laughed, but, as always, silently agreed.

Everybody lost their jobs when the pandemic hit, and when the Old Army finally went back into business, Mickey Milkovich wasn't there. The gossip moved on to different topics and different employees -- the hot security guard was nothing but a distant memory.

The next time Lola saw them was years later. She was much older, much more experienced, and much more in love. She had met somebody, had fallen deep, and it had changed her life for the better.

Love was an interesting thing.

Mickey was standing at the corner of a street. The sun was shining brightly above him, and Lola realized he still looked as beautiful as ever -- his face was much more relaxed though as if the walls he had spent years putting up were suddenly all down, letting his pearl shine through, and glint in the sun. He was waiting for somebody outside of a store, and somehow, Lola knew it was his husband.

She couldn't remember his name, but she could never forget the look.

So many years had passed, and Lola had gone through so many relationships -- but the look was what always had her looking for more, never settling for anything short of what she knew she could have. What they showed her she could have.

Once she found someone who looked at her the way Ian -- Lola would only remember his name sometime later in the day -- looked at Mickey, and somebody she would look at the way Mickey looked at Ian -- that was when she'd know she had found the one.

Ian exited the store, much to Lola's expectation, his red hair, slightly grown out, fiery red in the Sun. The boy holding his hand was smiling widely, and the smile only grew once he saw Mickey.

The boy dropped Ian's hand and ran towards -- Lola simply knew -- his father, jumping into his arms. Mickey picked the small boy up effortlessly -- he was no older than five -- laughing along with him as the boy dove into, what Lola presumed, a story.

Ian and Mickey shared a look, so akin to the one they had shared that day, years ago, in the store, filled with so much love, adoration and happiness before focusing their gazes on their child. It wasn't just between them anymore -- the love they had was now for the little boy as well, nurturing and taking care of him, allowing him to bask in it. They probably didn't even realize they were doing it.

Lola felt tears in her eyes.

She had once searched for the look.

Now, she hoped she would one day be able to share this look with her own husband and her own child.

Lola patted her swollen belly.

One day.

She watched as the two men and boy pulled away, still listening to the story the boy was telling. Lola pulled her phone out as she watched their retreating forms.

Lola opened the group chat, typing excitedly.

 --- old army besties ---

LOLA (12:33 PM): You'll never guess who I just saw.

 She was thankful for many things Mickey Milkovich showed her, but the one thing she was grateful for the most was that thanks to him, the gossip never ended.

[scarlettroubles]

Say Goodbye to My Heart Tonight

Mc’s mentioned in this story are Jules Farrier and Will Scarborough @cursebreakerfarrier​, Morgana Canigula @lgvalenzuela​ , and Septimus Crowe @brothergrimm71​. Finnegan Bradigan, Eliza Ryder, Augustus Hawthorne and Mathias and Matteo Alabaster belong to me.

As Eileen made her way to the library as instructed by Headmaster Dumbledore, she couldn't help but smile in anticipation and from the fluttering feeling in her stomach as she made her way to see the final surprise laid out by her boyfriend.

Boyfriend the very word made Eileen lightheaded and made her want to swoon. She found it very annoying. She wished it would stop.

But then she remembered the antics her and Will got into these past few days. How they had both heard the exact same announcement from Dumbledore that there was to be a Valentine's day Ball and the rush of excitement that flew through her veins in that moment.

She remembers how she had instinctively turned to look at Will from where he sat in the great hall with the rest of his housemates from Slytherin like Augustus who was just napping, Jules who had a far away look in her eyes. Probably thinking about her boyfriend Bill, Barnaby who was bursting at the seams with joy at the prospect of getting to dance with Morgana again, and Merula who although was sneering at the idea of some silly love fest with Ismelda Murke and the rest of her school clique, Eileen couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes darted off towards the Gryffindor table and on to Septimus Crowe, who was his usually broody self this morning but whom Eileen knew was hiding a drinking flask underneath the huge table. At most days Eileen would  have scolded him for drinking on a school day but seeing as how her sister Eliza and Jae Kim were currently sitting near him and talking his ear off and just being plain pain in the asses, she would let it slide for now.

She remembered the electric shock that passed through her when she found Will looking right at her from across the room too, and how they had both blushed madly when they had realized that they had been staring at the other like love struck teens. Penny and Finn had squealed at how adorable they found it while Diego and Chiara just gave her a knowing look. Tonks on the other hand  went as far as guffawing very loudly and had to have a hand smacked across her mouth before the entire teaching staff could silently scold them with their eyes. She remembers feeling her cheeks heat up with embarrassment and how badly she wanted to disappear in that moment because dammit she had a reputation to uphold-

But then it was announced that Madam Pince of all people would be planning the ball and suddenly the entire mood of the great hall dropped dead faster than a demiguise could disappear right before your eyes.

God they really were idiots. Not only idiots but idiots in love, how fucking cheesy was that? How fucking cheesy was it that they had BOTH immediately thought of saving the Ball for the other. How Will teamed up with Augustus (who had apparently only joined in with the promise of free snacks from Matteo) the Alabaster twins, Eliza and even dragging poor Septimus who looked absolutely done with everything  into the mix to try and convince Madam Pince in making the Ball into something everyone would enjoy and not the classical and so very lonely event she had had planned. While Eileen teamed up with Merula, Finn, and Jules to give Argus Filch of all people a makeover in order to get him to woo and convince Madam Pince to change the Ball into a classical woodland fairytale.

When she looked back at it now she really should have paid more attention to the poorly concealed smiles and giggles her friends were throwing at her every time the boys passed them by in a hurry.

With Mathias blushing from the tip of his ears every time he spared a glance at his boyfriend Finn, to her own boyfriend nearly crashing into every damn column or wall that was around him if he so much as passed by her and probably would have had a concussion by now if not for her sister Eliza grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt just at the nick of time and throwing her a questioning look, seemingly judging her taste in a romantic partner when Eileen herself felt like she had no right to judge seeing as how piss poor her sister’s own love life was.

It was funny to think that she and Will had gotten together just a few months after the start of 6th year. Those first few months were bliss compared to what had been going on now.

It was hard. It was really, really hard not to think about Rowan. Eileen wanted nothing more for her best friend to be here with her, She was the first person to have picked up on her feelings for him long before she had realized it herself. She should be enjoying the Ball with them and teasing her with the rest of her friends on how adorable she was with Will. She should have been laughing with Ben and her as they danced badly to whatever song the band played next.

She should be here, here in Hogwarts, alive and not buried 6 feet below the ground. Here laughing that unrestrained laugh of hers that never failed to make her smile and look at her with so much love. Talking off Eileen's ear about the many historical romances and fairy tales she knew as they went on their daring quest to save the Ball for everyone at Hogwarts. The rich scent of parchment, ink and fresh-sawn lumber following right behind her. With that stupid scarf she loved so much hanging off of her gangly shoulders and fluttering in the breeze.

Sometimes Eileen swears she can hear her voice ringing down the halls. But she knows she is dead and gone from the physical world. She is but a muted colored ghost of regret and guilt in her mind but a dear friend and loved one in her heart. And Eileen tries her best not to let the heavy chains of guilt that she struggled so hard to snap off wrap themselves on her wrists once again.

She really shouldn't linger on such thoughts unless she wanted to dampen the mood. Rowan wouldn't have wanted that for her. She would have wanted her to be happy. A sad smile that slowly turned into a bright one graced Eileen's face as she remembered just how her friends had found out she was dating Will.

Will had given her his old Slytherin sweater a month after his confession to her by the black lake. She hadn't worn the sweater at all during those first few weeks after receiving it, wanting to keep their new relationship on the down low for now. And, albeit being the tiniest bit embarrassed at owning a piece of her boyfriend's clothing and what others might scandalously think happened between them if they caught her wearing it.

But after another disappointing encounter with her brother and an upsetting talk with her father that had involved a bank statement from Gringotts meant for him, followed by her breaking into the Gryffindor dorm rooms just to get an old friend of hers to take her to the Ryder family Manor in order to investigate said bank statement had left Eileen feeling drained and in desperate need of comfort. And so in a moment of weakness, she had finally put on the sweater and slept in it only to wake up the next day to be met with wide eyes staring right at her groggy form wearing a Slytherin sweater that definitely didn’t belong to her.

The girls had all screamed their heads off upon learning that yes, her and Will did finally get together. While Chiara, Rowan and Penny all gave her a group hug and immediately started swamping her with questions, Tonks, in her usual fashion, went and started screaming at everyone in the Hufflepuff dorm room that “THE SHIP HAS SAILED EVERYONE! IT'S FUCKING SAILED! WILL AND EILEEN HAVE FINALLY DONE IT HAHAHAHAHAH- OW!” 

Before she got bonked in the head for being too loud and for cursing with first years around by Diego . It wasn't long until the the entire school found out about it and both her and Will were receiving congratulations from their classmates. In fact, Eileen could have sworn seeing Snape grumpily give Professor Mcgonagall a small pouch of money at the teachers table that morning during breakfast and for some reason, seemed to be glaring at her as if it was her fault for him losing some kind of bet but also seemed to look at her like he was...relieved…? Ugh, the very memory of such a strange encounter left her mind buzzing.

And so it was with a heavy heart Eileen buried down the guilt and pain that still lingered deep within her and focused on the present.

It was Valentine's day after all and she had a date. This was no time for sorrow and regret. This was a day of love and there was only one path for her at the moment and that path was leading her towards the Hogwarts Library.

Snapping back to the present, Eileen found herself right in front of the library door. She felt her palms start to sweat and her heart speed up. Whether from apprehension or excitement she could not say.

She placed her hand on the door knob and took a deep breath before giving it a twist…..And found herself walking straight into a fairytale.

The library had been completely transformed. Fairies that she recognized from the forbidden forest were flying about, buzzing softly and casting the entire room in a warm, soft glow. The books and tables in the library had been transformed into stairs and a platform to walk on. Above the platform even more books had been transformed into heart shaped archways and at the bottom of those archways lined scented candles that filled the library with the smell of lavender and lighted a path to somewhere deep in the library. Where the path led to she could not see but was excited to explore.

She took another step forward to investigate and saw that underneath the platforms were blue construction paper that seemed to have been enchanted to mimic the movement and flow of a running river.

Eileen couldn't help but cover her mouth in awe. She couldn't be blamed for it, because this…This was incredible and as Eileen stood there still struggling to take it all in, behind her came a familiar voice.

"Happy Valentine's, day my love." Will spoke softly as he emerged from his hiding spot. Carrying with him a brilliant red rose.

The smile on his girlfriend's face was so intoxicating Will couldn't help but smile back and think that he wouldn't mind getting drunk on it.

He was snapped out of his thoughts though as Eileen was suddenly running to meet him halfway and accidentally got a little too excited and ended up colliding straight into her tall-as-a-fucking-building of a boyfriend and hurriedly moved to wrap her arms around his shoulders and Will just laughed at his girlfriend's enthusiasm as he too, mirrored the gesture and wrapped his arms around his lovers waist and twirled her while also trying to not let the rose still in his hand get crushed in-between them as they both laughed.

Eileen drew back a bit to look at Will. He was taller than her and although Eileen had finally gotten that growth spurt of her’s these recent years and stood at a whopping 6’1 feet, she still had to crane her head to look him in the eye. Something he always liked to tease her for, only for him to be lightly punched by his girlfriend in the shoulder good naturedly.

"How in the world did you pull this off? This is- this is absolutely gorgeous Will! If it weren't for the musk of old books I would have thought I was transported somewhere entirely new." Eileen exclaimed to her lover with a smile.

Will just laughed softly, pleased at how much she liked it.

"I had a little help…" he explained rather cryptidly.

Eileen gave him a confused look when she suddenly heard a familiar chirp followed by a buzz behind her.

She twisted her neck to see where the noise was coming from and felt her jaw drop as she saw a familiar branch of bowtruckles behind her, it was the bowtruckles from the Care of Magical Creatures classroom but among them was also her bowtruckle companion, Barnaby Jr. And Tinkerbell, a fairy she had helped rehabilitate after having found her at the end of a nasty storm and whom she had named after some fairy from a muggle film Finnegan had shown her once, all up on a bookshelf.

Junior, noticing they had managed to get her attention, let out another happy chirp before quickly making his way down the bookshelf followed by Tinkerbell and the rest of the army of bowtruckles and Eileen could only watch in amusement as the tiny creatures raced towards her. She let out another laugh and bent down so she could scoop up Barnaby junior and let out a gasp as upon further inspection, noticed the tiny bowtie the little bowtruckle had on him. She turned to look at Tinkerbell and found her to be also sporting a beautiful blue ribbon tied into her hair as well as tiny rose bracelets on her wrist. Actually, all the other  bowtruckles had  accessories that fitted them all so perfectly. It was clear whoever gave them the outfits made them with utmost care.

"Oh Merlin, look at how stunning you two look with those accessories! They suit you both so well! You didn't just give Junior and Tinkerbell outfits though, you even gave accessories to Francis,and Ottie,and Rosie and- oh holy Hufflepuff look at all of you! You all look so lovely! Oh Will I think I'm gonna cry-" Eileen squealed happily as she did her best to cradle all the little creatures she had been caring for for years near her face and Will just smiled so lovingly at her as Junior and Tinkerbell, and the entire army of bowtruckles all let out happy chirps and buzzes at the attention they were getting from their caretaker and Mummy.

"I told them I wanted to do something special for their mummy. And as soon as they heard that I immediately had their attention. When I started to explain the plan they started jumping up and down, climbed down their Wiggentree, and made a beeline for the library. It was really funny and touching to watch them all clamoring to impress their mum." Will rubbed his neck in embarrassment.

"Junior found Tinkerbell fluttering around and must have explained to her the plan because the next thing I know, I'm putting some of the charms up to make the paper river and suddenly there's this group of fairies demanding they help out too!"

By the end of Will's recount, they were both laughing as the little creatures began to pat themselves on the back in a job well done and puffing out their chests, obviously liking the amount of praise they were all getting.

"Did Pince really let you use her precious library just for this or have you somehow managed to bribe our friends and the teaching staff to keep Hogwarts favorite librarian busy as we enjoyed our date?" Eileen asked playfully but with the slightest bit of worry in her voice. She didn't exactly want her date with Will ruined with an angry librarian and caretaker barging in the middle of it and having their date end with them sentenced to serve detention by helping Pitts out in the kitchens. It would have been worth it sure, but it would still be annoying and a wickedly bad damper on their special night.

"Actually yes, as long as we promise to tidy it all up afterwards and leave the place exactly as it was."

"Madam Pince has been left in such a good mood from her own romantic fairytale date with Filch that our friends and beloved teaching staff may or may not have set up for them that she has agreed for me to use the library for this very special occasion just this once." He finished with a flirtatious wink.

"The entire teaching staff? Even Snape?" Eileen asked, not quite willing to believe it.

"After being pressured into it by Professor Mcgonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore? Yes, even grumpy ol' Snape joined in on it."

The picture of the ill-tempered, greasy haired bat of the dungeons grumpily setting up a date for his two fellow co-workers left the two love birds cringe just the slightest bit at such a disturbing image.

"Now that that's out of the way, shall we?" Will said as he extended a hand to Eileen while still holding on to the rose from earlier and his face immediately lightened up as soon as the rough yet warm hand of his lover joined his open one. He led Eileen down the heart shaped archways and the path of scented candles while behind them, followed the crowd of bowtruckles and fairies. Letting out soft chirps and buzzing noises as they too went under the romantic shaped archways.

Will suddenly stopped and turned to Eileen to give her the red rose and she graciously accepted it with a soft smile that left Will's cheeks feeling warm. He quickly grabbed for the wand in his pocket and with a flick of his wrist, some string instruments cleverly placed in the corner of the room started to play a soft yet sweet ballad. Eileen gave Will a disbelieving look at the ridiculous amount of effort he put into this whole thing and Will just ducked his head and chuckled in embarrassment before grabbing for her hand again and moving on.

"So uh, this isn't too much is it? I-I know you're not the biggest fan of grand  gestures or anything but, I… I know these past few months haven't been easy on you and I just- I wanted to do something special for you. I wanted to give you the storybook romance you deserved. And yes, I know technically storybook romances although ideal are not realistic, but…."

Will raised his hand, gesturing to something ahead of them and Eileen let her eyes follow to where they were pointed to before letting out a sharp gasp.

Soft, pale pink light emanated from the floating fairies like the faint embers of a candle. It cast the room in a rosy hue, highlighting the platform she saw ahead of her. It was one of the strangest displays she'd ever seen. And yet, somehow it fit.

The platform was composed entirely of books bound together by enchantments. Stacks of curving tomes that resembled the half moons flanked its edge, conjoining in a heart in the middle. Candles flickered along the edge, creating a kaleidoscope of pastel pinky, peachy colour throughout the library. It was a scene that would make Pince lose her mind. It was a scene that melted Eileen's heart.

Will once again gave his wand another precise flick and suddenly there was a silver dining platter floating gently to the ground. As soon as the platter touched the floor, almost all the small creatures in the room started to crowd around it. When the lid slid open, the plate was revealed to be filled with creature feed which started to float a few inches off the plate before swiftly distributing itself to the eager hands of fairies and bowtruckle alike. The creatures making pleased noises as they ate their meals.

“They deserve a reward for helping me out with this. They're er, they're eating it so I'm going to assume I got the right feed for them? I know you explained to me their diets in the past and I even asked Hagrid and Barnaby to make sure I grabbed the right one but even then I was still scared I went and mucked it up. S-sorry I'm just blabbering now aren't I? ” Will laughed nervously as he struggled to keep his composure relaxed.

Eileen just looked at him adoringly though. She was touched to know that Will had listened to what she said about bowtruckles and fairy diets. Hell, he even remembered the whole damn conversation and went as far as double checking with Hagrid to make sure he got it right!

God, she could feel how sore her cheeks were getting from how wide she was smiling right now. But she could complain about how stupidly cheesy this all was later on, in the privacy of her dorm room with her face maybe buried in her pillow as she replayed the night's events all over again on loop.

Right now, right now she was stupidly in love with her boyfriend because she's an idiot and her  heart felt like bursting from joy. And right now she would very much like to kiss her boyfriend stupid.

Will looked at Eileen only to find her looking at him with those golden eyes he grew to love so much. Eyes that reminded him of the sun that, at times felt like they were gonna scorch him alive with that intense stare of hers but right now, felt more like a warm caress upon his skin and for all his charm and skillful words, he could not help but grow bashful at the knowledge that a girl like her was looking at him with so much love. And if his heart started beating faster and his cheeks grew flush then that was his secret to keep.

He grabbed for her hand once more and she let him guide her up the stairs of this strange platform. And in the faint darkness of the library, Eileen ludicrously wondered to herself if Will could see the faint red glow of her own cheeks as she felt his sweaty fractal covered palm against her calloused one.

As the two made their way towards the middle of the floor, Will took both of Eileen's hands in his and held them firmly as he gave her a small smile that told her a thousand secrets.

"You made this Valentine's ball perfect for everyone, even for the likes of grumpy old Filch and pinched-faced Pince."Will started off until Eileen decided to speak up in typical smartass fashion.

"Technically you could say we both did seeing as how we cheesily went behind the others back to save the Ball in an attempt to give the other the best night of their lives but please, continue."

Will gave her a disbelieving look at her interruption in which Eileen just laughed as her lover struggled to fight down a smile and keep their already sweaty palms clasped to one another.

"As I was saying, you made this night perfect for everyone, even when no one asked you to. And I wanted to do something for you in return. Can't have my own girlfriend outdoing me anyway."

"Outdoing you? Will Scarborough, are you saying this was a contest between us?" Eileen asked, exasperated.

"Of course not, because if it was then I would have obviously won and you would have obviously lost. Which you hate and today is a day of love. I mean, c'mon Elly I built you a whole damn classic fairytale romance with nothing but books and paper in a library that is guarded by a crazy librarian who hates people using her library with the help of the creatures you love so much. Without another person's assistance might I add! And no, Headmaster Dumbledore does not count because he merely stalled you so I could do the finishing touches, but I digress."

Will finished as Eileen fought to contain her laughter at his mini rant.

"Okay okay, we need to be serious right now. This is my serious face."

"I thought that was your dork face-

"Merlin's beard Elly, will you let a man speak? If you interrupted me this much when I first confessed to you at the shore of the black lake we would have been caught by the teaching staff before I could get a word out!"

And it was then that Eileen finally bursted out laughing and clutched her stomach as Will smiled down at her on how silly she was being.

He couldn't help but feel a wave of pride to know he was one of the few that could make her laugh like this.

Eileen let out a new guffaw of laughter as Will grasped her by the shoulders. Trying to steady her and make her stop laughing. 

"Just- hold still. I'm being very serious right now. I am about to be a huge romantic so we are going to be serious. What I am about to say is serious" Will said as he craned Eileen's face to look at him as she finally ceased giggling. Sensing Will's sudden change of mood.

"These past few months have not been easy for you. They haven't been easy for me either because they weren't easy for you. And it hurts me to know you are hurting and all I can do is to hold you and hope you can feel my love. That you know that my love for you is always there. And that you are free to take it just as I am free to take yours. That you can trust in me like a lifelong friend just as I trust you, and have faith in me that I will come back like a sailor at sea does to his family and his wife after every little row we have no matter how silly or bad it was."

"I am grateful that you trust me enough to hand me your heart and have faith I will not break it or wander off with it as I hand mine to you and hope for the same thing. I am grateful I can make you laugh like no one else can and you are comfortable enough to be vulnerable around me just as much as I  can be vulnerable around you."

"I thought I knew what love was but then I met you. I am so, so glad I met you Eileen, my love. My beloved. My trusted friend. And I know sometimes you question if you are worthy of being loved, if you are worthy of my love, and sometimes I wonder if I am worthy of yours as well. But I think- I think we should stop questioning if we are good enough for the other and just focus on being enough for each other instead. Love isn’t built on doubt after all, it’s built on trust and faith. Because at the end of the day that is what I want. To be with you and to continue to grow as a person because of you. And at the end of all that, I say- Happy Valentine's day, my love."

Will finished with tears in his eyes he was desperately trying to hold back his own tears only to find Eileen holding back tears of her own. He moved his hand to wipe them away, not wanting to see her sad but she merely grabbed his palm and pulled him into a kiss. And as Eileen claimed his lips she could only hope he got the message loud and clear.

I love you too.

When they both finally pulled apart for air, they pressed their foreheads together and smiled sweetly as tears of joy streamed down both their cheeks and held each other close. Tucked safely away from the prying eyes of all save for the small creatures that still hung around the room but were smart enough to give them their privacy.

When they finally opened their eyes to look at the other, green eyes met gold ones that were filled with such love and understanding that only they would truly know.

"Before we end the night, I have one more surprise up my sleeve."

"Another one? Haven't we had enough surprises in one night Will?"

"Trust me, I think you'll like this one." He said confidently and Eileen took his word for it.

" As you may or may not know, we are most definitely the best power couple in this school. And don't you think Hogwarts best power couple deserve to have their own love story written down for the ages? So why not have our own storybook?"

Will  brought out his wand and with a wordless spell, a book suddenly materialized right between them.

It was a leatherbound book and was expertly crafted. It was a gorgeous shade of teal with various roses of pinks and reds decorating the edges of the cover and two interconnected golden hearts in the middle with what looked like an actual key hole in the space where the two hearts met at their feet. With a golden chained necklace wrapped around the book with a heart shaped key on the end of it.

"It's beautiful Will." Eileen breathed out softly. Still mesmerized at how well crafted the book was.

"Only the best for my lady." He said as he gave her his most charming smile which only made the smile on Eileen's face grow even bigger as she let out a small chuckle.

"So, what's it about? Wait no, let me guess… It's about a curse breaking witch who had a strong connection with animals and made a living by breaking curses who one day meets this charming sorcerer.

They don't get along at first but they keep running into each other over and over again and eventually team up to stop some ancient evil."

"And have a classic romance story along the way." Will added with a smirk.

"And end up becoming each other's future despite everything that was thrown their way. Because they knew the moment they met each other a second time, that it was fate." Eileen finished with a smile.

"I think that's a story I can read over and over again." Eileen said as she cradled the book gently and caressed the cover. Feeling the soft leather beneath her fingers and admiring just how much love was put into its pages.

"With you being a bookworm and a sappy romantic? Definitely. The key will allow you to open it so that way you can read it whenever you want. You can even wear the key like a necklace so that way the story will always be with you."

"Tch, and you call me the sappy romantic when you went and did all of this?"  Eileen said teasingly.

Will just gave her a pouty face which made her laugh and to which he quickly joined in.

"It's perfect, this entire night has been perfect. Thank you Will."

"What do you say we end this night with a dance?" Will said as he offered her his hand one final time.

She felt herself smirk and grabbed his hand without hesitation.

"I couldn't think of a better way Mr. Scarborough."

As Will led them both to the middle of the library floor, this time it was Eileen who brought out her wand and with a gesture of her hand the instruments at the corner of the room started playing a song for slow dancing and the couple both positioned their hands on their partner's body and proceeded to dance. The bowtruckles and fairies, seeing the humans swaying softly to the music decided to follow them as well and all partnered up. Doing their best to copy Will and Eileen as they danced the night away.

And as Eileen rested her head against her boyfriend's chest and listened to the soft beating of his heart.  For the first time in forever, Eileen looked forward to the future and hoped that Will was included in every step of the way. Because there was no one else she'd want by her side to take on the world than Will Scarborough.

And just for the night, the universe was merciful on Eileen Ryder and her lover Will Scarborough. And she smiled.

For even if it was just one night. No matter how short their love story would be. Eileen knew she would rather love Will no matter how short of a period of time that would be, than not love him at all.

And just for this night.

It was enough.

[our-wargame]

when you say nothing at all

Summary: Dazai isn't called a genius for nothing. No one can self-sabotage better than he can.

Relationships: Dazai Osamu/Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs) Characters: Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), Minor Characters, Sakaguchi Ango (Bungou Stray Dogs) Rating: M (to be safe. In reality it’s T except for the swearing and references to sexual stuff but there’s no actual sexual content) Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Dazai Osamu is a Mess (Bungou Stray Dogs), Developing Relationship, Trust Issues, Slice of Life, Friends With Benefits, Light Angst, Self-Worth Issues, References of Sexual Content, As in 0 sex happening, although not for lack of trying on Dazai's part, That's Also His Biggest Mistake, I HATE THAT TAG BUT THAT IS THE FIC, Dazai's pretty trash but his greatest accomplishment, was getting Odasaku to love him Word Count: 2500 Notes:

co-written with SwordintheThrone (they have some ridiculously good shit, check em out.).

can be read on ao3

reblogs are appreciated ty

---

It's a shame that he has commitment issues, Dazai muses to himself. Because Odasaku isn't just the best fuck of his life, Odasaku is good to him.

Too good to him.

That's most of the problem. Odasaku will look at him, expression so gentle, so brilliantly sweet and patient and trusting, as if he doesn't think Dazai will rip him apart at the first sign he sees that as necessary. (Still, sometimes Dazai can stand it. Sometimes he even gives into it and the peace that comes with it hurts like a hell he could learn to adore.)

Is this self-sabotage? He doesn't know. And he's still fucking trash for pushing the issue away and ignoring it as he sends Odasaku a text to ask him if he's still not busy tonight.

Odasaku replies within the hour. I'm not, he confirms. Can I come over?

Dazai tries not to laugh, self-deprecatingly amused rather than annoyed at Odasaku's attempt to save him face. He's not that proud, he really isn't. 

He imagines if Odasaku were here, he'd tell Dazai that it has nothing to do with that. That Odasaku really does just want to spend time with him, and that's why during their last encounter, Odasaku casually, lightly mentioned the fact that he was free for the next week. Should they want to do anything. 

It is self-sabotage, Dazai comes to decide. Because no matter what Odasaku's intents were, Odasaku is going to end up in Dazai's bed, because Dazai desires it. And then Dazai won't be able to fool himself into either deciding the reason for this outcome is because Odasaku thinks Dazai knows himself well enough to make the right decision, or that Odasaku wants to give Dazai the choice to make bad ones.

Both options are better than thinking Odasaku just wants to fuck him. If he minded, which he doesn't, it'd be his own fault too. Everyone knows that you start texts with can we talk and not are you busy unless you want to bang.

Dazai closes his eyes, already tired of himself, even without having to pretend around Odasaku. He thinks about calling it off but that's rude and it'd make him look weak and it's all a lot more troublesome than going through with what he has so far. It's freezing but somehow, the heater is the one thing he doesn't have the energy to bother with as heg gets off his ass to fix up the apartment. He turns the TV on, keeps the volume nice and low on that channel that only replays old movies. Neither of them are wine people but that's what you're supposed to have for these kinds of occasions, aren't you? So he leaves a half empty bottle of sake on the coffee table. Lounges on the couch as he sips from his glass.

How classy is he.

A knock at the door. Odasaku knows it's already open and only does it to alert Dazai. But he still waits outside until Dazai calls, "Come in." It's so unnecessarily considerate of him, Dazai shivers. And hates Odasaku a little bit, even as he thinks about pushing Odasaku against the door and kissing the gentleman right out of him.

"Hey," Odasaku says as he closes the door behind him gently. He smells like takeout. Looks as rugged and handsome as ever. Dazai wants him so badly.

He moves his eyes to the TV as he puts down his glass so he can refill it. His hands are shaking, fuck. "Day go okay?"

"Yeah." Dazai listens for the sound of fabric shifting, Odasaku hanging his coat up on the hat rack. Soft steps signal Odasaku having taken off his shoes and switched them for slippers, walking light out of habit so they don't clack against the tiled floor. "And yours?" 

Dazai's half-distracted with trying to remember the last time they had sex for fun instead of thinking he needed Oda's body to make his own shut up. "It went okay," he replies to Odasaku, and it's a miracle he doesn't add, 'it's about to get better, I think.'

That would just be tacky.

He shifts on the couch, still a little chilly, but trying to signal Odasaku should come closer. 

"I brought you curry. And soup in case it's too spicy. Can I put it in the microwave?" 

Dazai blinks. His mouth starts curving up. "Odasaku, has anyone told you you're too polite."

"You probably haven't eaten." Odasaku easily ignores his teasing jab, placing the takeout on the kitchen counter but not quite walking behind it. "It's crab soup."

He hasn't eaten and yeah, he's a little hungry, and of course Odasaku knows all of this and brought him his favorite. But he doesn't like to eat before sex. It just makes him feel bloated and a little repulsed by himself.

Crab doesn't go with sake, he could try, only it does. He could try 'not in the mood for curry or crab', only Odasaku will probably ask him if it's okay to take a look at his fridge and make him something.

"I'm not hungry." He sips at his glass again. Isn't alcohol supposed to make you feel warmer? "Can I have a kiss?" He wants Oda's tongue burning up his mouth, wants Oda pinning him down and chasing the darkness out of him. It's a stupid thought. He humors it and waits for a reaction from underneath his lashes.

Odasaku's surprise is practically audible in the silence. Dazai starts to move over so the length of his gangly body stretches across the couch, then puts his elbows on the armrest and props his head up to watch Odasaku. Please?

Odasaku closes in slowly, but Dazai finds himself holding his breath, nervous anyways. He can feel his heart in his throat, feels it pulse when Odasaku bends down, warm hand sliding up Dazai's face, cupping his chin. Dazai tilts it up as his eyes fall closed.

And then his breath catches, when Odasaku kisses his forehead instead.

He blinks and Odasaku's already straightening. Retreating to give Dazai space.

"Odasaku...." That's not what he wanted, but-

Odasaku prods his elbow and Dazai takes the cue, pulling his limbs back and sitting up straight. Odasaku takes a seat besides him, their shoulders a couple of inches from touching. Looks at the TV as he says, "Can I hold you for a bit?"

He has to think about this one. Says, "okay," even as he thinks about how he doesn't really want to be touched, at least not if it isn't Odasaku pushing Dazai onto his back.

Odasaku shifts his weight forwards so he's sitting on the edge of the couch and able to comfortably reach for the coffee table. He pushes Dazai's  glass inwards- farther from Dazai- and then picks up the remote. When he readjusts his sitting position again, he's still sitting a few meaningful inches away from Dazai. And now he's left his arm stretching over the top of the couch.

It's such a date move, except it's them. Odasaku is doing this for Dazai.

He hates Odasaku a little more in the moment. He hates feeling inconvenient, because it's a reminder he cares about what Odasaku thinks. The desperation of his attachment- he's so fucking weak, it's pathetic. God, he disgusts himself. 

"Are you getting enough sleep?" Odasaku asks. Dazai is still leaning away from his arm, but he's not breathing as hard and so he supposes, this is good.

"No." He hasn't. Before they started their arrangement, Dazai would have answered that with a smirk, an 'is Odasaku coming on to me or am I still daydreaming?' 

The stunt actors throwing themselves across the TV screen are alright. If this were also back then, Dazai would poke Odasaku, tease and bet that he could do it better. Oda would consider it in his seriousness and Ango would scold them both into the next year. Everything's different now and he's not sure if he likes it or loathes it, even though having to ask himself which one it is, is pretty determining. 

Five minutes is how long it takes for him to finally calm down, enough to shift and holds himself against Odasaku's side. Odasaku radiates warmth. The rise and fall of his chest is steady. Dazai tries to ignore it. His neck prickles.

Some more minutes trickle by before Odasaku murmurs, "Can I take you to bed?"

"No," Dazai blurts out immediately, because he understands what Oda is saying, but the answer is no because it'd stress him out, be even worse than the little fiasco going on right now. He'd have to try and force himself to sleep around someone who should be a source of comfort and failing that would just be gloriously useless of him-

"Okay." Odasaku says, gentle. "No worries." A pause. "Would it help to invite Ango over?"

Dazai breathes. It would. He can put on a front if it's for people, if it's for friends. It's harder to put on a show if it's for individual people; he has to make sure their gears mesh together but they're so damn complicated. Odasaku more so, than most. 

"We should drag him out of the house a little more."

Dazai opens his mouth. It's not you, he wants to say, urgent, needy for someone else to know what he does. Odasaku, you're not the one making me uncomfortable, it's me.

"Maybe you can teach us how to make hot pot?" 

Dazai wants to yell. Fall apart out loud for a change. They're monsters, not shadow puppets on the wall, and they don't go away when the sun comes up or what their parents say it's bedtime, for real this time. Oda's trying too hard, and it aggravates him. 

Odasaku can't wrap his arms around him and make him okay. That's never going to be him. He's afraid that Odasaku still doesn't know that, and he doesn't know what Odasaku will do when he really, really understands this. Even if Odasaku doesn't leave, Dazai can't stand the thought of Odasaku suddenly thinking less of him. It'll be just like losing him.

"Dazai?"

He shakes himself out of it. "Yeah. Call him." He pauses. "Can I have the crab soup after all?" He's still not completely ready to hug it out with the idea of eating, but it'll give him something to do.

Oda rises. Dazai stares at the grace, the strength in the lovely curve of his back. He feels cold all over again.

Oda glances over and holds his hand out. Dazai stares at it for a second before he lets Oda lead them away, carrying the two empty glasses with him in his free hand. Dazai pulls away to work on transferring the takeout into bowls to send them off to the microwave while Oda runs the glasses under tap water, swishing the residue round and round before drinking it down and then washing them clean.

The smell of reheated curry overpowers the room. Oda watches Dazai drop into a chair and then watches Dazai plop spoonfuls of curry rice into his soup, stirring this way and that.

"Did you know," Odasaku says, and Dazai looks up at him. "You have happy-cat face."

Dazai sputters. "I'm sorry, I have what?"

"Happy-cat face."

"Odasaku," He purses his lips, but he can't stop his shoulders from shaking. "Odasaku, that's not a thing."

Odasaku keeps his gaze, the slightest rise of his eyebrow explaining yes it is because you have it.

"You're so silly. Did you know that?"

Odasaku hums. When he dials Ango, he places his phone on the dinner table. Dazai's eyes gleam as he shouts like he's from the next city over.

"Oh my god," Ango's voice is very grumbly. "Odasaku-san, please remove me, I think he broke my ear."

Oda turns off loudspeaker and brings the phone against his ear. "So when are you coming over?"

"Ugh, give a man twenty-minutes. I still have work to do."

Dazai throws himself into Oda's side, squashing his face against Oda's other cheek as he chirps, "Tell him all work and no play makes Ango grouchy. And that he has old-man energy."

"Tell Dazai-kun, I think his Brat Card should have an expiration date."

"Tell Ango, there isn't an expiration date on fun~"

"Tell Dazai-kun-"

Oda disentangles himself from his executive, passing him the phone and letting them go at it. Dazai sits back down, adjusting himself so he can bring his knees up to his chest and leave his feet on the chair seat. Even as he chatters away, he keeps his eyes on Oda, who moves to wash out the takeout containers. He reuses everything because he's an environmental dork. Dazai would be more of one if he wasn't interested in dying before the planet. Still, watching Oda so patient, quietly determined to withstand the overpowering...it makes Dazai soften.

"Hey, is Odasaku-san still there?"

"Nope." Dazai says, popping the p. "Odasaku is busy. Being perfect."

"Yeah, yeah. Why don't you two just get married already? Make it official and everything."

He doesn't recover as quickly as he'd have liked. "Ango, weddings are not good places to pick-up women. They're all crazy. And non-sober. And crazy. We'll find you your little lady elsewhere, don't you worry." He watches Odasaku shake off the excess water into the sink, wiping the counter dry and putting the containers to the side. Then he dries his hands, he drifts over to the living room and picks up the remote.

"Ha. Not that I wouldn't reject your delightful request to be your best-man, but are two groomsmen allowed to be each other's best man? I think so." 

"Has anyone ever tell you not to drink on the job, Ango?"

"Speaking of which, you'll have alcohol waiting for me, right? I had to train a new accountant today. If it was there, you would have fainted from the painfulness."

"Delightful. So. How much longer?" He'd really like for there to be someone other than Odasaku around him.

"That depends. I don't want to walk in on you two fucking."

Dazai sighs into the receiver. "It's not my fault. Odasaku has a really nice dick."

He can practically hear Ango roll his eyes. "Don't expect me anytime soon then."

"So. Fifteen minutes?"

"Yeah, alright. See you dumbasses then."

There's no immediate beep! Ango is waiting, letting him end the call. Dazai shakes his head. His friends are really something.

Odasaku keeps flicking through the TV channels, only looking up when Dazai leans over the couch from behind, gently resting his chin on the top of Odasaku's head.

"Hi."

"Odasaku's hair is really soft."

"Thank you."

"Odasaku smells very nice. Like mango-watermelon. And curry."

"Thank you." Oda sits very still so he can hand Dazai the remote without jolting him. "What do you want to watch?" 

Dazai breathes. In, out. "Anything is fine."

[statticscribbles]

Four Plus One

Summary: Huma, Four times Uma cried around Harry and the one time he cried around her

Uma knows her mother must have planned something for her birthday, beyond having a few extra hours off early to play with all her friends. She tampers down the hope she’ll come back to a seapony, or at least a cake. Instead when she wanders back into the chip shop, peering around to see her mothers tentacles waving her forward. “What on earth do you think you’re wearing?” Ursula snarls and Uma shrinks back.

“It was cold, Gil; Gil gave me his jacket and-“ “Take it off before I burn it.” Uma nods folding the jacket and running with it to her room, not that her mother can’t reach it there. She tucks it under the pillow and for a moment in her terror she forgets it’s her birthday at all. She remembers soon after and pulls the jacket back out fingers running over the soft red leather. “Uma?” She jumps wiping her face and peers at her window, Harry’s clinging to the ledge grinning at her, his hook looped around the broken railing he’d used to climb up. “Come on I know your mom’ll throw me back into the ocean in a few if you don’t open up.” Uma doesn’t say anything nodding and sliding her window open, thankful it stay silent no matter how slow or quickly she rips it open. “Uma?” She watches Harry frown grabbing his hook from the bar but putting it on her dresser to let his hands hover around her face.

“She forgot again. I don’t know why I thought it was going to be different than any other year.” Harry shakes his head pulling her into an awkward hug as she shoves her hands forward trying to offer him his jacket back. “You really giving me your present back?” “Told my mom it was Gil’s.” Harry nods, pulling the jacket back on before wrapping Uma back in a hug. “It’s okay you know.”

“That my own mother forgot my birthday?” Uma laughs bitterly and Harry shakes his head. “That you’re upset. Just because you’re gonna be captain someday doesn’t mean you don’t get to have feelings.” “I don’t think I’m going to be captain at this rate, you’re better suited anyways.” Harry grins shaking his head, his fingers brushing her cheeks to wipe away spare tears. “You’re just saying that.” Harry ducks his head before looking back up to her grinning. “What?” “Since you won’t take the jacket.” He laughs, placing the hat he always wears onto her head. “Harry, I can’t…” “It’s a birthday present. You can’t give it back to me.” He grins crookedly leaning forward to kiss her forehead before pulling the hat over her eyes. “Come on Capt’n, we’ll be okay.” Harry hums and Uma nods looking at him from under her new hat. “You should get home..”

“Before my dad notice’s his own personal bartender ain’t home?” Harry snarls and Uma chews her lip. “Before I ask you to stay over, again. And have my mom throw you into the ocean, again.” “I’ll hit the barrier like I did last time.” “And break your wrist?” “I have my hook!” Harry nods enthusiastically.

——————————————————————————-

“Uma! Volume control!” Ursula shouts from the back and Uma scrambles towards the tv turning the volume down watching the static image flicker before it shows a bright green garden filled with berries and fruit trees. Uma stares in wonder as the tv pans over the garden and then to a massive swimming pool that seems to be endless before it switches to a view of a lake with a waterfall and a group of kids swimming in the lake itself. Uma tries her best not to run her fingers along the tv screen, the last time she did that she had to clean off the handprints she’d left.

Harry and Gil arrive as whatever the show is ends and they grin at her but she shakes her head thumb moving to the back of the shop where they can hear her mother moving around. “UMA!” “Comin’ mom.” Uma hums back and Harry and Gil settling into the corner table they’ve claimed as their own. “That show on the TV; that was what Auradon looks like, like really looks like! Isn’t that so cool! I want to go there! And go swimming!” Uma cheers and Gil nods enthusiastically excitedly talking about all the fresh fruit and vegetables they have.

“Dad says those are the best for being strong, way better than the canned stuff we get!” Harry shrugs when Uma asks about why he wants to go. “Come on Harry must be some reason.” “You want to go, so I do.” Harry half mumbles as if it’s the most normal response to have. “We should ask.” Gil grins and Uma can’t fight off his optimism that he radiates. “Fine.” Uma grumbles and the three of the retreat back towards Ursula. “Mom. Gil and Harry and I were-“ “You can have the night off then.” “Thank you but we wanted to ask about going to Aurad-“ Uma doesn’t finish, Gil shoves her back and Harry and her watch frozen and Ursula’s tentacle whip out to slice a gash on Gil’s arm. Uma knows it would have been her face had he not moved in front of her.

“Don’t you ever mention that hell hole, those people are the ones that trapped us here.” She snarls and Uma realizes she’s not even aware she hadn’t hurt Uma, just that something had gotten hurt. They three of them step back and all shakily curl into one of the rooms on the Revenge. “I’m sorry Gil.”Uma mumbles and Gil’s brow furrows. “About what? That was nothing compared to what my dad passes off as training, let alone his punishments.” Both her her and Harry look worriedly to Gil.

“Your dad? He does worse than that?” Harry chews his lip, Gil nods unphased. “Course, he’s the strongest here, I have to be just like him. I can’t be weak, or fail like he did.” Gil’s smile falters at their shocked faces. “Is that not what he’s supposed to be doing?” “Gil, no, not at all.” Uma pulls him into a hug and he rests his chin on her head. Harry nervously reaches forward hands circling both Uma and Gil. Gil’s face stays confused as Uma sniffles and he pulls back to look at her face. “You’re upset for me? There’s nothing to be upset about; look it already scabbed. No need to cry.”

It doesn’t take long for the movement of the boat to lull them to sleep or for Harry to wake back up when he can feel Uma shifting away from him. “Uma, hey what’s-“ “Nothing.” “You seemed really upset about Gil earlier, I didn’t know, we can’t blame ourselves.” “It’s not that, he just, right in front of me.” She waves her hand in front of her face.

“Yeah cause he cares about you. We all do, we’re your crew.” “He, you, neither of you should be so willing to get hurt for me.” “I can’t speak for him, but  I love you; I’m not going to let you get hurt if I can help it.” “You what?” Uma questions and Harry throws her hat at her. “Nothing. We should sleep more till someone else comes to wake us.” He avoids the question and Uma drops in favour of picking off the flaking blood on her jacket from Gil’s wound.

————————————————————————————– “Why do you want to be my friend so badly! You don’t even have real magic!” Mal snaps and Uma hesitates. “I do have magic! I can swim and when I-“ “Nobody cares you can swim, that you just hit the barrier and turn back! That’s so dumb!” “Mal just drop it, Uma can hang with us-“ “No Evie she wants to control us, wants us in her dumb pirate gang that’s made up of a bunch of misfits, just like her, a little shrimp.” Mal’s eyes and face light up and Uma scowls before Mal’s eyes flash green and Uma’s face first in the sand. “Shrimpy, betcha can’t even fight back.” Uma doesn’t say anything as Gil and Harry appear, Mal and Evie turning tail and running back to the main city of the Isle. “They don’t like the beach, it’s okay Uma that’s all.” Gil assures her and she shoves at him, he stumbles, caught off balance in his new growth spurt, his limbs too gangly and thin. Uma tries not to be bitter at the growth spurts that seemed to have taken her crew by storm, leaving her out of the mix. “I’ll go let everyone know.” Gil nods as Uma catches the end of some shared look between him and Harry. “What Harry.” She snaps, her voice wavering.

“You okay? You landed pretty hard on your wrist..” “It’s fine!” Uma shouts and Harry nods sitting next to her as she pulls herself inward, foot digging into the damp sand. “She doesn’t know anything, she’s the closest we’re getting to meet Auradonian royalty in the flesh. A stuck up princess given too much power.” “She’s a better villain, everyone is scared of her.” Uma sniffles. “You think they’re not scared of you?” She nods and Harry loops his arm around her.

“They don’t know how weak the barrier is under the water do they?” Uma shakes her head and Harry grins. “Betcha once you get even better at swimming you can just swim under it.” “ I can’t.” Harry arches an eyebrow. “All you’ve wanted since we were little was to get off this island and take revenge for yourself.” “I can’t leave my crew behind.” She grins laughing a little as Gil shoves Harry into the sand.

“See Uma, fightin’ always makes us feel better; you’re laughing now so you’ll be okay, right?” Gil’s voice is softer at the end despite the force he uses to keep Harry’s face planted in the sand. “Gil, come on can’t have my first mate drown in no water.” Gil’s eyes widen. “You can do that?” “Let’s not find out yeah?” Uma helps Harry up who playfully shoves Gil towards the ship they’ve all started calling home in their heads. ———————————————————————–

“Come on Gil. Again.” Uma snaps and Harry charges forward, Gil jumping out of the way dropping the sword and letting his fist hit Harry in the jaw. “GIL! No! The point of this is for you to use the sword!” Uma chides shaking her head as she steps in front of Harry pulling her own sword out to nod to Gil who nervously picks his back up. “We all need to get better at fighting; we all need to be able to fight in every way each other does. We’re stronger like this.” She nods and Gil nods with her taking a breath before he nods and Uma steps forward. “Strike, block, strike, block, turn. Good. Good job.” Uma praises and Gil grins striking to the side without comment and Uma grins back dodging him laughing a little.

“Try again.” She laughs and he nods stepping back so Uma follows, closing the gap towards him before he strikes out once more switching his hand to slice the air in front of Uma’s face. “Were you holding out on Harry just to fight me?” “Nah, Harry’s too easy to beat, I needed a challenge.” Gil laughs when Uma’s sword cuts at his arm, he grins and Uma raises an eyebrow at the line that’s bleeding now.

“You’re gonna end up covered if you don’t actually fight back.” Uma taunts and Gil rolls his shoulders unconcerned before he steps forward sword moving with his arm as he extends it before twisting himself to the side as Uma lashes out; he untwists grinning as the sword slices through the air, he jumps back landing on his feet as Uma rolls to the side. She falters her grin morphing to faint confusion as she looks down, a gash cutting through her jacket, the fabric barely hanging on.

“Gil.” She hisses and he freezes face looking worriedly for any sign of blood. “This was my best jacket!” She snarls and no one comments about it being her only one. Gil hovers nervously before Uma charges him, his sword scraping against hers as he scrambles backwards to avoid her blade. “I’ll buy you a new one! I’ll fix it. I swear I’ll fix it.” Gil shouts frantic as the rest of the crew move out of his way as he all but runs circles around the deck. Gil almost screams as Harry jumps out sword in hand. “Its not fair you’re both too strong together!”

“Life ain’t fair Gil.” Uma laughs surprised to see Harry stumble before he crashes into her. Uma looks up to see a blade in her face Gil grinning. “What just happened?” “I used your strength against you. Harry’s not gonna let himself hurt you if he can help it; so when I moved out of the way, he dropped his sword,” Gil gestures with his hand that’s currently holding Harry’s sword. “And then all I had to do was flick my leg out and bam, Harry became a dead weight and you both hit the deck. So I win.” “So you’re saying Harry helped you win?”

Gil shrugs offering his hand out. Uma takes it gripping her sword about to raise it before Gil lets go of her hand leg sweeping under her’s at the same time as Harry grabs his ankle from where he rests still half on the ground. Uma glares from under Harry’s chest Gil grinning upside down at them. “Do I still win?” Uma sucks in a breath and shrugs pulling the half of her jacket that’s still clinging to the other and waving it in his face. “Does this look like you’re going to win?”

“Yes?” Uma rolls her eyes and pulls Harry back towards the captain’s area pulling her jacket off. “You know he didn’t mean it.” “I know.” Her fingers brush over the jacket, the front half salvageable. “At least the backs there not a total loss.” “I have barely any front of the jacket now! This is worse than the time you lost your sleeves!” “Okay one of those was my choice the other was a hook issue.” Uma shakes her head and Harry scowls. “It’s not the jacket is it?” “Gil’s good at fighting; but he’s better at defending.” “We all are, you know why.”

“I hate it.” “None of us enjoy it. We’re your crew you know this.” “I know Harry! I just want all of this shit to stop! I just want us to be okay! I don’t want Gil to panic when I mention meal times or Bonny to act psycho to keep all the creeps who stare away. I don’t want any of this. I don’t want to train everyone to fight and expect them to lay down there lives for me!” She shoves him shaking her head and Harry raises an eyebrow at the tears he can spot. “So it’s not the jacket?” Gil questions nervously gripping the door handle. “No it’s; what is that?”

“Sewing kit. Borrowed it from Evie, she said since it’s leather it won’t fray; I dunno what that means but it can’t be any harder that stitching up one of Harry’s wounds.” “Oh, thanks Gil.” Uma nods to the jacket keeping her back to him. “You can take it and bring it back if you want.” “Course.” Gil nods and Harry watches as he carefully folds the jacket up, and retreats from the closing door. “Uma, do you-“ Harry doesn’t finish, Uma nodding to him handing his sword that had been leaning against the table towards him.

“We have work to do.” She snaps and Harry sighs. “So we’re going to ignore your emotions…” “What emotions? I was just tired.” “So you’re admitting to the tears then?” Harry grins as Uma scowls caught in a forced agreement. “At least it wasn’t our hat.” She amends and Harry grins following her back onto the deck. ——————————————————————————

Harry and Gil don’t say anything when they find Uma curled in the captain’s chair asleep, her apron and the smell of grease clinging to her. Gil grins nodding to Harry who scowls back pulling him away from waking her. “Let her sleep. Ursula had her working double night shifts.” “Wasn’t she already working double shifts durning the day?” Gil questions and Harry nods watching as Gil’s eyes widen. “I’ll tell the crew to keep it down.”

“Doubt anything could wake her, might as well be dead.” Harry chuckles grinning at Uma before he jumps slightly when she moves. “Not dead, and not sleeping.” She huffs and rolls her back against the chair’s arm. “Wouldn’t you rather a bed Capt’n.” “Doesn’t matter either way. Can’t sleep.” She hisses and rubs at her eyes. “At least change out of your uniform, no sense in getting it dirtied up.” “Doesn’t matter.” She hisses again almost shrugging her jacket back onto her shoulders as she leans on Harry’s out stretched arm to steady herself as she stretches.

“Come on Capt’n we can get Gil to read you a bed time story and everything.” He grins confused when Uma’s lip trembles slightly. “Capt’n.” “Harry.” She sighs her forehead resting against his chest as his arms automatically wrap around her. “What’s going on love.” His voice softens as he kisses her forehead watching as she wipes at her eyes. “Nothing; I mean that. Nothings wrong; just everything is happening all the time at once.” “It’s too much yeah?”

“Yes! My mom wants me to work 24/7 at the shop and the Revenge crew need me, not mention everything with Mal and you need me and I don’t even get time to myself let alone time to be with you anymore! I feel like if I try to put effort in to one thing everything else is going to suffer! I can’t let you or the Revenge suffer like that, I can’t Harry.” “Hey Uma, love, it’s okay.”

“Its not! I love you; I can’t just let you suffer because I can’t handle everything.” “If you love me you’ll let me help you.” Harry tries to keep his voice even but it still cracks over the word love and Uma can’t help the faint smile on her face as she catches it. “You’re my first mate; I’m not going to just dump the Revenge on you.” “You’re not dumping anything on me, besides I have Gil as a second so it works well enough. We can keep the ship running while you take time for yourself.” “I can’t just because I’m a little tired…“

“It doesn’t matter why Uma; you need to take time for yourself. None of us want our Captain dropping on deck from exhaustion and I don’t want to see my girl exhausted unless I’m the cause of it. For now it seems everything with Mal has sorted itself out; we can’t do anything until the barrier is dropped anyways.” “If I miss anything while I’m napping..” “I’ll hook anyone who disturbs you, now an actual bed might  be a better start than that chair.” ———————————————————————————–

“Capt’n” “Yes?” Uma arches an eyebrow her feet resting on the rail of the deck as Gil lounges in front of her letting her braid his hair. “Gil, scram.” Harry taps his foot. “She’s almost finished with my hair.” “She can finish it later. Capt’n.” Harry hums and Uma watches as he gestures up to the wheel. “What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing.” Uma catches him glancing awkwardly over the rest of the crew. “Harry, what did they do this time. Did Gil do something in Auradon again? I’ve told him we can’t bridge hop like that.” “It’s not that; I mean it’s involving Auradon.” “What happened?” “Nothing yet! Jesus, I just, I remember how you were always saying you wanted to go swimming at Auradon so I may have gotten a sort of vacation organized.” “When I was like eight; Sort of vacation?”

“Yeah, just a few days for uh, us, to go over and spend the day swimming a couple nice dinners just, Gil.” Harry hisses and Uma can hear Gil stumbling down the steps, when she turns her head she can see him standing at the bottom of the stairs. “What’s that?” Uma leans forward and Gil shifts backwards. “A sword.” “I can see that.” She turns back towards Harry who looks unimpressed at Gil from over the ships railing.

“What did he do, it’s not like you to protect him. He must’ve done something all of you are acting weirder than normal. Oh my god is Gil going to be in charge while we’re gone? Is that what this is about?” Uma whips her head back to see Gil nervously wave. “I mean as the second mate he is by default. Plus he can marry us.” “You think I’d marry you because you took me swimming in Auradon?” “No, I think that’s more the post engagement honeymoon.” “That’s not a thing Harry.” “Depends how you answer.” He laughs and it edges on nervousness as Uma turns, her gaze dropping to where Harry kneels in front of her. “Harry.” Uma sighs and Harry grins at her. “Uma, we probably-“ “Yes.” “I had a whole speech planned out, it took me forever to figure out to say how much I love you and everything you can at least…”

“Yes.” “I know what yes means!” “Then get up. So Gil can apparently perform his second mate duties.” “No but-“ “Harry, I said yes. I want to marry you.” Harry seems frozen nodding softly before swallowing and licking his lips. “You want to marry me.” “That is what yes means.” Harry nods turning his head to look out at the current sunset. “Harry?” Uma walks around watching his fingers playing with the ring he’d gotten her. She doesn’t let her eyes linger on it, fingers brushing up harry’s arm to his neck turning his head so he’s forced to rest his forehead on hers.

“Harry.” She hums and he grins a little locking eyes with her. “You want to marry me?” He giggles a little and Uma fondly rolls her eyes. “I love you. Of course I do. Stop crying I can’t have my future husband looking like a crybaby in front of the crew.” “You’re just saying that cause if I cry you’ll cry.” Harry laughs a little and Uma turns back to the crew avoiding the fain wetness in his laughter and on his face.

Support My Writing?

[mypunkpansexualtwin]

WIP Wednesday

I am, again, untagged but undeterred! Who wants more Wingman? No? Too bad, that’s what you’re getting!

I... haven’t slept yet. Consider yourself tagged if you want to do this and please please tag me in your WIPs, I really love seeing what my friends, mutuals, and followers are all working on. Part of this is under a cut, mostly for the sanity of Future Me.

About halfway down the block, they realized at about the same time that they had nothing to talk about.

“So…”

“So...”

So. Akira didn’t remember how to have a normal damn conversation. He wasn’t going to blame that on the fact that the only people who’d spoken to him on a regular basis in the past five months were all eccentric to say the least, but it definitely hadn’t helped. One of the top five current sanest people in his life was the drag queen proprietor of a bar in the red light district, for crying out loud. Not to mention he’d always been more of a listener to begin with because it was less stressful. So long as the person talking wasn’t a harried reporter who could only ever be found at the aforementioned drag bar. Or his homeroom teacher being blackmailed into dubious side work by a late student’s family. Or an ex member of the goddamn yakuza. Being “robbed of one’s place to belong” apparently also did a number on one’s sanity.

Akira was pulled from his thoughts by Ono awkwardly clearing his throat.

“I, uh, heard that one of the Japanese schools staying here is Shujin. That you?” Jason hazarded. 

“Yup.”

“Phantom Thieves Shujin?”

“That’s the only one I’m aware of.” Akira responded blandly. Not the best topic for small talk considering the apparent state of his brain-to-mouth filter, but better than walking along and twiddling their thumbs until one of them decided to leave. Probably.

Jason cracked a smile and jokingly asked, “Do you know them?” Even half-expecting it, the question still caught him a little off guard. Although not as much as it would have a few months prior, considering he’d gotten it just as jokingly from several of Leblanc’s regulars since May. Meaning he’d had time to practice his answer.

“Oh yeah,” Akira responded, pouring every ounce of sarcasm he had into a completely truthful statement, “I found them on accident and they made me their leader.” Then he rolled his eyes for good measure. Who needed to be a good liar when you could just tell the truth in a way nobody would believe?

“Pff, why would they do that?” Jason snorted, indulging the “joke.” Akira shrugged in response.

“No idea,” he answered, again, completely honestly. “My unparalleled charisma? My superior adaptability?” He paused for his date to stop laughing before he continued, “My cool glasses?” That earned him a scoff.

“Clark Kent you ain’t, buddy.” Ono retorted dryly, but the effect was ruined by the smile trying to break out across his face. Topic successfully deflected.

“Definitely no Superman, either.” Akira stretched and laughed softly.“Too gangly.” He was finally starting to actually relax a little when an arm snaked around his waist and tugged him close, effectively shooting his progress in the face.

“I dunno if I’d say gangly. Lean, maybe?” Ono’s voice was close to his ear again and his hand was ridiculously warm where it rested on his hip. “Whatever you wanna call it, it definitely suits you.” 

“Uh. Th-thanks.” A few moments passed, allowing Akira to attempt to scrape together something resembling a brain cell.

“Y’know, if you’re here to make memories, maybe we should get on that.”

Attempt failed, try again later. Something about the guy’s voice, especially with the way it ghosted across an apparently very sensitive spot just behind his ear, seemed to have a vendetta against Akira trying to think. Purely on impulse, with no input from his higher functions that had all abandoned him at that point, Akira turned his head and hummed his assent against the corner of Ono’s jaw. He felt a shiver run through the taller boy and a decidedly Arsene-shaped sense of smug satisfaction in the back of his mind. Akira wasn’t sure if he should offer his inner self thanks or wonder where the hell this kind of helpful nudge was earlier that afternoon with Ryuji. Or at literally any point with Ryuji. Maybe it was for the better, he really didn’t have the nerve to follow up on a move like that. And if he couldn’t with the guy who’d arranged the damn date, there was no way he’d have been able to after probably ambushing his unsuspecting best friend. There was no point in dwelling on that, though. Instead, he met the hooded gaze Jason levelled at him with a smirk meant to cover his rising nerves. 

Anyone who knew Joker, Infamous Leader of the Phantom Thieves would have recognized that particular smirk as the prelude to him being a little shit, but Ono did not. He had no idea what to expect when Akira replied lowly, “I think you might be onto something there.” The blond leaned in a little, eyes fluttering shut as Akira reached up to settle one hand on the back of Jason’s neck--

--and shattered the moment with a quiet click from his phone’s camera. Ono blinked a few times, looking up to where Akira was holding his phone up for the selfie he’d just snapped, and back to Akira’s face. Double take. Triple take. And then he fixed him with the most unimpressed face Akira had ever seen in his life, which had to be some kind of world record.

“Uhhh, say ‘cheese?’” He cracked a smile and tried hard not to laugh as that look somehow turned even more unimpressed.

“Ha freaking ha.” Ono pouted up at the camera. “Seriously. I’m gonna crack a rib laughin’ here. You’re hilarious.”

“Are you saying you don’t want a picture of yourself when you look this good?” Akira replied innocently and lowered his arm a little. Maybe it was unfair to push the buttons of a guy so obviously and aggressively walking the fine line between confident and vain, but the way his pout deepened before twisting into a smile was too cute.

“Fine, twist my arm why don’t you?” Jason rolled his eyes good-naturedly and settled against Akira before looking up into the camera. Halfway through the burst of pictures Akira took, Jason exacted his revenge and pressed a kiss to that sensitive spot he’d ghosted his breath over a moment ago. Thankfully the camera didn’t pick up the deeply embarrassing yelp that particular move elicited from Akira, but there was no hiding the way the phone suddenly jerked in his hand halfway through the dozen or so pictures, or the way his face had gone completely scarlet in all of them from that point onward. It was his turn to pout as he swiped through his camera roll and deleted the blurriest ones. “Ooh, definitely send me that one. And those two.” Ono instructed with his chin hooked over Akira’s shoulder. Naturally the guy wanted the pictures with the worst of Akira’s tomato face, but at least the rest he requested were nice. Maybe Akira wouldn’t be spending the rest of the night too mortified.

The incoming text notification that dropped from the top of his screen said otherwise. Goddammit.

“Oh man, the timing on that’s almost spooky. Hell of a coincidence.” Jason laughed as the preview of Futaba’s ‘who the heck is that guy???’ disappeared into the notifications bar. Akira groaned.

“Not a coincidence.”

[bucketofcowboys]

Santa-Maj Is Coming To Town

Cute Christmas fluff drabble I made randomly in the early hours of the morning (as one does). Hope you enjoy!

Relationships: Kiryu Kazuma/Majima Goro, Kiryu Kazuma & Sawamura Haruka, Majima Goro & Sawamura Haruka Words: 3,995 Warnings: No warnings! Just severe fluff and Nishida abuse AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28413567

- - -

"Ojisan, did you know that a polar bear's fur is see through?" Haruka spoke up, finally tilting her head up and away from the newest puddle she had decided to attack. She decided to entertain herself as they walked back to their apartment by dipping her toes in every puddle they walked by to see how much water she can kick up without making a complete mess. 

At this point, her new winter boots were sure to be soiled in, but she made sure not a single drop got on the rest of her new outerwear. She cherished the winter jacket Kiryu had bought her as soon as the cold began to hit Kamurocho. It was perfectly puffy and warm with a nice pastel pink color to it, and around the hood was faux fur that would tickle her cheeks every time she huddled up when a cold breeze blew by. 

"No, I didn't know that." Kiryu hummed in response. He held her hand and their connected arms swayed as they strolled down the street. As they approached a rather large puddle in the middle of the street, he gently tugged her in front of him to balance on the narrow dry patch of land around it. 

It had snowed the previous few days, which was quite rare with the usual winter temperatures of the city. Christmas Eve of course was the day that the temperature decided to heat up once again, leaving large puddles of melted snow scattering each street corner. Kiryu would have preferred a white Christmas for his first holiday celebration with Haruka, but she seemed to be just as happy with soggy socks.

"Did you know that penguins have to hold their eggs between their legs to keep them from touching the ice and freezing?" Haruka had been spouting interesting animal facts the whole way home. Kiryu didn't mind though. If there was ever a trivia night on random animal facts he would rest assured that he would win.

"I didn't know that either." Another big puddle. He pulled her in front of him again, holding her hand above her head like he was twirling a ballerina.

"Do you know any cool animal facts Ojisan?" Haruka tilted her head back to look up at him. He hummed for a moment. He never was too interested in facts-- and he never paid attention in school, so he wracked his brain for anything he could scramble up. 

"Uhh... did you know that..." he looked up at the dimmed night sky and watched as his breath steamed in the air for a moment as he thought, "Did you know that an octopus has three hearts?" He finally offered. She gave him a surprised look.

"Really?" She asked.

"I heard about it somewhere. I don't know how true it is." He shrugged and scratched the side of his chin. 

After a couple more minutes of leisurely strolling through late night Kamurocho, avoiding puddles and exchanging animal facts (though Haruka said most of them), their temporary, dingy apartment had finally come into view. As they approached the back alley, leading to the door another large puddle came into view, this time with no dry spots to go around on. Kiryu pulled Haruka in front of him, but this time he let go of her hand and grabbed her from under her arms. He safely picked her up and placed her at the other side of the puddle without ruining her boots and with a few giggles to go along with it. He just stepped over it semi-clumsily. 

Once they were in the alleyway, something felt wrong though. He paused for a moment before moving towards the back of the building with Haruka. He couldn't understand why, but the underlying feeling of wrong itched at the back of his mind and brought goosebumps up to his skin. It was a familiar feeling at this point. By why would he be here on Christmas Eve--

"Ho ho ho!!" Kiryu tensed up at the sudden vocal intrusion of his alone time with Haruka. It seemed like the person speaking was trying to make their voice sound deeper than it is, but eventually settling on shrilling out their failed impression of Santa. Both Haruka and him turned. Kiryu wasn't even sure how he could still be surprised by the man anymore.

Behind him, standing in the puddle he and Haruka had just hurtled over, was Majima, dressed up in an ill-fitting dollar store Santa costume that sagged way too much around the belly area, included with a scratchy looking synthetic white beard and a stained Santa hat that looked like it had seen better days. His eyepatch also seemed to have been customized to have a snowflake design on it, but upon further inspection, it was clear to see that he had just hot glued a snowflake decoration to his usual eyepatch.

"Majima no-nii san--" Kiryu started, But Majima quickly interjected.

"Ah ah ah!! Not Majima," He scolded, "Santa Majima." He quickly corrected, gesturing towards his outfit. 

"Santa Majima," Kiryu corrected, not liking the feel of that name on his tongue, but it earned him a pleased smile from the man in front of him, "What are you doing here?"

"Me? Oh, I just came to wish the lil' tyke merry Christmas." He kneeled down and smiled over at Haruka. Ever since Majima kidnapped her all that time ago, she had been a bit wary of the man. But after the shift of Majima hanging out around Kiryu more often without looking for a fight, she had grown much more used to him. Kiryu would even say that she liked him. "Merry Christmas Haru-Chan!" 

"Merry Christmas Majima-Ojisan." She giggled from Kiryu’s side. Santa Mahima frowned.

"No, not Majima. Santa Majima!" He corrected with a pointed stroke of the synthetic beard. Kiryu flinched at the prospect of how much it must itch. 

"Majima-Ojisan I know that's you--" 

"Haw? Who's Majima? Wait are ya talking about that Majima? Goro Majima? That one-eyed freak is at the top of the naughty list ya'know!" Kiryu tsked at the loving nickname he gave himself, "You shouldn't fraternize with people on the naughty list Haru-Chan. It can ruin yer rep."

"Majima-Ojisan isn't on the naughty list! No way!" She quickly defended.

"I dunno kid-- the stuff he does seems like naughty list material to me." Haruka quickly shook her head.

"No! He may act all tough and fight a lot, but he's a super sweet person when you get to know him!" Haruka said with such confidence that it was almost as if she wasn't talking to the person she was talking about. Kiryu had to hold back a smile at that, and when he looked back at Santa Majima he could see a wobbly smile past that gross beard. 

"Aw Haru-Chan... yer gonna make me cry." He stepped towards them, kneeling in front of her and bringing a hand up to ruffle her hair a bit. "You wouldn't wanna make me cry now would ya?" He pouted out his lip and looked up at her with feigned sad eyes. She giggled and shook her head. A smile returned to his face as quickly as it left. 

"Good!" He stood up quick enough to give himself whiplash and turned towards the mouth of the alleyway, "Ey Twinkletoes! We have a gal on the nice list that's waiting patiently for her Christmas gifts! Will ya hurry it up!" 

Upon Majima's request, a man dressed in a stereotypical elf costume, that looked suspiciously like Nishida, came scrambling into the back alleyway. He was holding way too many stuffed dolls for one man to carry all alone. Most of them looked like prizes from the UFO catcher at the arcade. Each stuffed doll had a little bow wrapped around some part of its body in an attempt to put some sort of wrapping on them. The stack had every color and size variety of every doll you could win.

 Kiryu distantly wondered if Majima had won all of these by himself or if he had found out where to buy all of them. Kiryu couldn't imagine Majima spending his day mowing down cash on a UFO catcher in the arcade, but then again it was also very believable. The man was unpredictable

Kiryu glanced over at Haruka. Her face was covered in shock and she had that wonderful childlike wonderstruck look in her eyes at the pile of toys held in poor elf-Nishida's arms. Even if Kiryu had to deal with Majima's antics, that look on her face was worth it. 

"All of those are for me Majima-Ojisan?" She seemed to be stuck in a permanent gasp. Majima didn't correct her this time. He only nodded.

"Of course. You were a really good gal this year, and good gals get good toys." He explained as if it was obvious. She smiled so brightly, Kiryu was sure he could see Majima's heart melting into a puddle on the pavement.

"Anaki..." Nishida piped up as he struggled to balance the weight of all of the stuffed toys in his arms. 

"I'll grab some--" Kiryu offered, taking a step forward to grab some of the dolls, but was quickly interrupted by a sharp interjection from Majima.

"Kiryu-Chan, only elves can touch the presents." His tone was teasing, but his face was darkened and serious. Kiryu backed off and Nishida continued to struggle. "If you drop a single one of princes Haruka's presents Nishida, I swear ta God--"

"Why don't you come inside?" Kiryu quickly interrupted before Majima started slinging threats. Nishida quickly nodded.

Their gangly group made their way up the stairs and to the door of their apartment, and Kiryu quickly fished out his keys from the pocket of his jacket. Once produced he wasted no time opening the door wide for everyone to start filing in. Nishida looked like his arms were about to give out at any moment. Eventually, all four of them squeezed into the apartment's tiny half living room-half kitchen set up, and Nishida quickly got to work putting the dolls under the small Christmas tree set up they had going.

Haruka took off her jacket and handed it to Kiryu, who moved by habit and put her jacket on the coat rack near the door. He then kneeled down to her height and quickly unzipped her boots, helping her take off the soaked shoes one at a time. Majima, not wanting to just hang in the doorway and stare as they did their routine, quickly toed off his shoes and went to help Nishida with the presents. He helped the only way he could-- by barking orders as to how Nishida was meant to perfectly place each and every doll under the tree. 

The tree wasn't the biggest, only standing about four and a half feet tall, and some of the synthetic branches seemed to be missing judging by the gaps in the tree's formation. It was heavily decorated to compensate for it. Two different kinds of strings of lights were wrapped around the outer layer of branches, one in a usual rainbow tint and the other in white color. 

The ornaments that hung from the tree all seemed to be homemade. A lot of them made with varying colors of popsicle sticks hot glued together to make certain shapes. One a reindeer made from a formation of brown popsicle sticks and googly eyes, another a Christmas tree made from green sticks and little beads as ornaments. The only ornaments on the tree that weren't homemade were two Bun-chan decorations made from cheap plastic that seemed like a limited edition prize from the arcade. One was in the pink variety and the other in the yellow. 

The look of it was so sickeningly domestic in Majima's opinion. He could imagine Kiryu bringing home an old battered Christmas tree he found on the street, then he and Haruka making do with what they have and turning it into their own. It brought a smile to his face.

"Put that one there, Twinkletoes. Hey!! Don't you fuckin' dare knock over that ornament that princess Haruka took so much time to make!" Majima growled, kneeling down to adjust a popsicle stick figure of Kiryu that Nishida had bumped into, complete with his signature outfit and a frown drawn on in sharpie.

"Majima no nii-san," Majima shot Kiryu a look over his shoulder when he was called the wrong name, but let him continue, "Would you and-- uh... your elf want some shortcake? I think there's enough for all four of us." He bought a small cake for Christmas this year since he expected it to just be him and Haruka. He neglected to remember that he had another person intruding in on his life nowadays. 

"Sounds good Kiryu-Chan." Majima grinned. Nishida seemed to perk up at the invitation for cake, which made Majima quickly turn towards him and continue snapping orders.

Kiryu stepped into the kitchen half of the room and went to the fridge in search of the Christmas Cake. While he did that, Haruka made herself useful and began to sift through the rack of dining wear that sat on the kitchen countertop, pulling out four small plates and forks, as well as a knife to cut the cake with. 

After a few moments of Kiryu cutting up the cake and Haruka carefully placing each piece on their own respective plate, they walked back over to the other half of the room balancing two plates in hand. Haruka made her way over to Nishida first and handed him his slice. Majima pouted out of view. 

"Thank you, Nishida." She whispered over to him as she handed him his slice. If she spoke too loud and Majima heard, she was sure Nishida would receive worse than a threat. He gave a curt nod and a small smile before taking his cake from her. She then turned to Majima and handed him his own.

"Aw thank ya, Haru-Chan. This is why you're on the nice list." He cooed, one hand balancing the plate with almost masterful precision while the other reached over to pat her head. 

Kiryu placed Haruka and his own slices on the kotatsu that sat largely in the middle of the room, allowing them the opportunity to warm their cold feet after dipping their toes in freezing puddles the whole evening. The four of them sat together, eating their cake in comfortable silence. 

"Santa Majima, you want to know what me and Ojisan were talking about on our way home?" Haruka perked up, licking the remnants of vanilla frosting from her fork. 

"Sure." Majima shrugged.

"We were talking about animal facts."

"Animal facts huh?"

"Yeah, but like weird ones. Did you know that an octopus has three hearts?" Haruka parroted what Kiryu had said earlier. Majima's face shifted into exaggerated surprise.

"Really?" His Kansai accent shone through as his voice pitched up, "I had no idea. What do ya think they need that many hearts for?" Haruka paused at the question, actually taking a moment to think about it.

"Maybe they need one to stay alive, and then the other two contain all their love." Majima laughed at that. 

"That’s a lot of love to hold on to. What do you think they love so much that they'd need so many hearts?" Again, she paused, taking the opportunity to take a bite of her cake as she pondered. 

"Maybe for their families? Or maybe even a lover? Do octopus have lovers?" 

"I'm sure they do. It would be sad if they had all those hearts to store their love and they didn't have anyone to share it with." Kiryu’s pretty sure his teeth were rotting with how sweet this conversation was... or maybe it was the cake. He didn't miss Majima's subtle glances over at him during this conversation. He was sure the other man was purposefully seeking out a flush from him, and he was succeeding. 

"True. If I had all those hearts filled with love, I would want to share it with Ojisan!" Scratch that, both of them were tyrants attempting to ruin his reputation. Majima looked over at Kiryu, holding his face in his hand as he leaned over on it.

"I'd want to share it with your Ojisan if I had those hearts too." God. Damn. Tyrants.

Kiryu cleared his throat when the heat over his cheeks became too unbearable for him to just sit there any longer. He ate the last bite of his cake and stood from his spot under the kotatsu. He did not miss the heat on his legs as much as he originally thought he would. At the moment he just wanted to cool down. 

Haruka rushed and shoved the last few pieces of her cake into her mouth, earning her a quiet scold from Kiryu before he took her fork and plate. He then proceeded to take Majima and Nishida’s as well. He noticed that Nishida’s had been licked clean.

He quickly took their dishes and washed them off before returning to the other half of the living room. He noticed that Nishida seemed to be missing now, probably leaving by Majima's order. Majima now sat lounging under kotatsu across from Haruka, the two of them continuing to talk about octopus-- Majima beginning to go on a rant about the environment and octopus populations. 

Haruka stayed as interested in the conversation as she could, but after a while, she let out a yawn and realized that it had gotten much harder to leave her eyes open. That's when Kiryu glanced up at the clock on the far wall of the room and realized that it was already 11:30. 

"Haruka," He called, getting her and Majima's attention. Majima seemed huffy that his rant had been interrupted. "Don't you think you should head to bed? I know hanging out with Santa Majima is fun, but you don't want Mr.Santa to not come because you're up too late." Her eyes widened when he spoke as if she had forgotten that Santa was something she had to worry about entirely.

"Right!" She quickly scrambled up from the kotatsu, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she did. She paused for a moment before she went to get ready for bed. "Can I bring a doll to bed?" She pointed towards the pile of dolls beneath the tree. 

"Of course." Kiryu stepped over to the tree and kneeled down beside it. He shifted through the dolls before settling on grabbing a stray Woo-Kun. He held it up. "How about this one?" She nodded and took the doll from his hands, squeezing it close in a hug.

"Why don't you say thank you to Santa Majima before you get ready for bed?" He added.

"Santa Majima-Ojisan, thank you so much for the gifts!" She exclaimed, turning to him. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace. Majima tensed for a moment, not exactly expecting the affection. But, he quickly melted into it and hugged her back twice as tight.

"No problem princess Haruka-chan! I always go above and beyond for gals on the nice list." He hummed, ruffling up her hair a bit when they pulled apart. She gave him one last smile before turning and walking towards the door to her small room. Then it was just Majima and Kiryu.

"Where'd you get all of these?" Kiryu asked, squeezing at a particularly puffed up pink bun-chan.

"Earned them all with hard work and dedication! You'd be amazed at what I can do with a whole day and a shit ton of cash." Kiryu hummed.

"You didn't just mug a particularly lucky kid at the arcade?" He mused, crawling over on the floor to sit next to Majima. Majima placed a hand on his chest as if he was offended.

"How dare you accuse me of theft Kiryu-Chan! I earned every doll honestly I promise." He looked over at him and produced pinky between them, "Pinky promise." Kiryu rolled his eyes at the childish gesture. He hooked their pinkies together anyway, and with the new leverage, he pulled the other man closer. He went to lean in for a kiss but then paused when the synthetic beard tickled at his chin. He huffed and brought his other hand up to tug the gross costume piece beneath his chin before he collided their lips together in a swift kiss.

"Aren't you slick?" Majima hummed when they pulled apart, his hand pulling away to instead wrap his arms around Kiryu's neck. 

"How do you wear that thing, it has to be itchy as hell." He gestured to the beard. Majima shrugged.

"Ya get used to it after a while. But I have a whole new appreciation for people that dress up as the big man." He sighed, ripping the garment off now that he didn't need it anymore... especially since it got in the way of his Kiryu kisses. He tugged Kiryu forward by the back of his neck and connected them in a kiss once more, this one lasting longer than the last. Kiryu wrapped his arms around the older man's waist and pulled him close. 

"You know, she loves it when you hang out with her, Goro." Kiryu pulled away slightly to comment against his lips. A shiver ran down Majima's spine at the use of his first name. He ran his fingers through Kiryu’s hair and gently massaged the scalp, earning him a pleased hum in response.

"I know." He paused for a moment before sheepishly adding, "I'm glad." Kiryu smiled, connecting their lips once more. But soon their kissing session was interrupted by Haruka loudly clearing her throat.

"M' ready to go to bed Ojisan!" She called from her door frame, clutching the Woo-Kun doll so tightly to her side he looked like he could suffocate. She wore her new pajamas that were covered in tiny reindeer and carefully wrapped presents, and she rubbed her tired eyes before turning and walking back into the confines of her room. Kiryu turned to Majima once again, pressing their foreheads together for a moment and pressing one last short kiss on his lips before pulling away and standing up.

"I'll put her to bed and then I'll be back." He offered when Majima gave him a childish pout at his absence. "Maybe then Santa Majima can help Mr.Santa set up the presents, and then we can have some alone time." He said much quieter, making sure Haruka couldn't hear him. 

"I like the sound of that." Majima leaned back and smirked up at the younger man, earning him an eye roll before he turned and headed towards Haruka's room.

As Majima sat there, toes being warmed by the kotatsu, Christmas lights reflecting on the ceiling above him, and the distant sound of Kiryu’s deep rumbling voice telling Haruka of all the wonders Mr.Santa was doing this Christmas night, he let out a small sigh at how domestic it all felt. It was sickeningly sweet, and yet he couldn't help but love it-- if he was allowed again, he would want to do this every year. The mental image of spending Christmas with Kiryu and Haruka, eating Christmas cake, and talking about octopi, all sounded delightful to him.

His train of thought was interrupted when Kiryu tip-toed out of Haruka's room, carefully closing the door behind him slow enough for it to not creak. Kiryu returned back to his side in a moment, pressing a kiss to his cheek and running his hand in the shaven undercut of his hair.

"Help me with the gifts will you?" He requested with a whisper. Majima nodded, and at that moment he realized this was going to be a long night. He wouldn't have it any other way.

[petri808]

Paid By the Heart

Bakudeku, A!Bakugou/O!quirkless Midoriya.  Growing up Midoriya was picked on and bullied, harassed by the other sexes. In desperation he turns to the only Alpha he knows, begging for help. They reach a deal for the little Omega to use the Alpha's scent to keep the other's at bay... but was that really a good idea? Intermingling their scents for years had a consequence that left them only one option.

The life of a quirkless person in their world was a sad one, but couple that with being a small Omega; double whammy. Ever since that fateful doctors visit informing his mother, he’d never have a quirk, Midoriya Izuku was shunned at school, even bullied for being a small, gangly nerd. He was easy pickings and there was nothing he could do about it.

By the time he’d hit middle school, life was a lonely existence for the young man. His solace was in books or chronicling the exploits of his favorite hero All Might. For outside of that little bubble, pain and frustration was the norm. If only he’d been born an Alpha or at least a Beta, maybe then he’d gain a small measure of respect, quirkless or not. But no, the universe decided, he was to be an Omega, the lowest of the ranks. Could things get any worse?

The answer was yes. When he wasn’t being bullied, he was being harassed. Horny teen Alpha’s really were a bane of his existence. This lot didn’t care who or what he was, only interested in the scent he gave off. At least going into heat was still a few years away, because that could lead to bigger problems.

Sometimes things got so bad in school, Midoriya would hide in teachers classes or the nurses room until finally one called his mother about it and she promptly put him on scent inhibitors. He’d been too embarrassed to tell her what was going on. At least now he gained a small reprieve, but that didn’t stop the bullying. What could he do?

Midoriya racked his brain to come up with a solution, including quitting school altogether. Not ideal, no, considering learning was one of the few things he actually did enjoy. That’s when he realized, if only he had someone to protect him. Like a bodyguard. But who would be willing to help a small omega? He didn’t have any real friends that were Alpha’s or at least bigger Omega’s. Though he did know one Alpha…

Nah, Bakugou would never willingly help him. Despite growing up around each other, once he was deemed quirkless, the boy shunned him completely. They were complete opposites in personality; him being shy and Bakugou a bastion of anger.

No one dared to mess with Bakugou Katsuki, least get an explosion to the face.

But desperate times, called for desperate measures and Midoriya was tired of the split lips, black eyes, or torn clothing. He didn’t want to be shoved and messed with anymore and the one Alpha, despite their rocky relationship, who didn’t pick on him physically, was Bakugou. So, one day after school and a particularly egregious fight, Midoriya waited at the foot of the staircase of their apartment building. He lived on one floor and the blonde Alpha lived on another. As he waited, thoughts of what he should say worked their way through this analytical mind.

The man wasn’t going to do this willingly, that was a given. Bakugou’s main focus in life has always been power. To get to the top someday as a hero like their idol All Might. Maybe that’s a potential answer, play to the man’s desire to protect. Frankly, Midoriya wasn’t sure if it would work, but he had an alternative. He’ll pay the man to be his bodyguard. Not that he could afford much, but if it took getting a part time job or something, it beat getting assaulted.

He stands up from the step the moment he smells the Alpha coming. ‘Breathe, Izuku, stay calm…’

“Outta my way nerd!”

Midoriya swallows hard, fidgeting with his fingers nervously. “K-Kacchan, I need to talk to you— ask you a-about something.”

“The answer’s no.” The man starts to push past the smaller male. But Midoriya grabs his arm to stop him. He whips around, grabbing the hand on his arm and throwing it off. “Do you have a death wish?!”

“Please, Kacchan!” Midoriya grovels with tears streaming down his cheeks. “I can’t take all the bullying anymore.”

Bakugou narrows his eyes. “Nothing I can help you with nerd, now get out of my way before I do hurt you.”

Midoriya drops to his knees with his head hung down. “Kacchan…” He looks up now with sullen eyes, sad and forlorn. “I-I—will you please protect me?!”

“Argh!!!” Bakugou growls. This stupid Omegas scent was filled with such desperation it was rattling his senses! “Deku what the fuck makes you think I’d help you?!”

His shoulders slump further. “I know you have no incentive to help me. I’m just a worthless quirkless Omega. But I’m desperate Kacchan. I have no one else to turn to and I’m willing to pay with whatever I can afford.”

“I don’t want your money idiot.”

“Please! I’ll do anything!”

Fuck!! No matter how much the little freckle-faced mouse irritated him, he could never lash out except with words. Bakugou knew exactly why the man was so desperate, saw him picked on by the other sexes. The fresh cut above the man’s eye and torn shirt was evidence enough, but laying a hand on Midoriya, he just couldn’t do it. Plus, he believed his mother would kill him.

“Ugh!” He groans and snaps. “Fine! But you are gonna pay somehow. You’ll cover my lunches at school for starters and… I don’t fucking know, but I’ll think of something. So, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, thank you Kacchan!” In his elation, Midoriya jumps onto and hugs the larger male, snuggling his face into the man’s neck.

A flush of heat colors Bakugou’s cheeks. “Oi! Oi!” He peels the man off. “Get the fuck off me nerd!” Too close! Too close! Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Midoriya’s earthy scent pleased his inner Alpha and in his happiness that scent exploded.

“S-Sorry, Sorry!” He bows and takes a step back. “Thank you, you saved my life Kacchan.”

“I still don’t know what the fuck you want.” He crosses his arms. “I ain’t just gonna beat people up for you unless I really need to.”

Midoriya’s eyes widen and he waves his hands, “no, I wouldn’t ask you to! I hope that just being around you, or,” his face heats up, “like your presence and scent on me will deter them. And eventually they’ll just stay away out of fear.”

Unlike a lot of the Alphas their age, Bakugou had no desire to engage in primally driven acts. In fact, those types pissed him off too. Just mindless idiots as far as he was concerned. He wasn’t about to let stupid mating instincts distract him from his goals. “So basically, a fake relationship?” His lack of giving a damn about such trivial matters made it easy for him not to care. “As long as I don’t gotta be affectionate and shit.”

“R-Right!” Just the thought of intimacy made Midoriya bloom red. “Yes, nothing like that. Just the illusion of being your property.”

“Ha! I kinda like the sound of that!” Bakugou finally smiles, though more like an evil smirk. “You’ll be my bitch from now on!”

And so that’s how it was for the next few years. Each morning before school, the Omega would swipe a bit of sweat off the Alpha and rubbed it on himself. With the man’s scent on him, all the other Alphas and bullies stayed clear. They never eluded to any relationship, barely even hung out together, but everyone was too afraid to question it. Midoriya quietly went through the school days and for the first time in a very long time, he could finally relax. Even though his life was still lonely.

Once they finished middle school, Bakugou moved on to the prestigious UA Academy for pro heroes in training, while Deku managed to get into their Support program. Turns out his passion for learning and analytics was a skill he could trade on. Since they’d be at the same school, they could keep up the same rouse. Not that Bakugou seemed to care. Though the trade off for his part of the deal had perks with the Omega still footing any request he made.

Things continued unabated for the first two years of high school and Bakugou didn’t pay attention to the subtle changes taking place. Midoriya still dutifully came for his scent every morning before class. The Omega continued to pay for his services. But he failed to notice a change in the Omega’s scent. Where once the smaller male reeked of sadness, now there were hints of elation. The man smiled brighter and even had a bounce to his step. Midoriya was blossoming in the Support program. He had friends to call his own and Bakugou couldn’t be more thrilled the guy wasn’t trying to hang around him anymore.

It wasn’t until the third year was halfway through when the changes became glaringly noticeable. Midoriya continued to pay, but gathering his scent had grown from sporadic to nonexistent. Perhaps he wasn’t in need of Bakugou’s help anymore? No one was bullying him, on the contrary, the Omega was a top student in his program who’d gained the respect of his peers.

Bakugou corners the man outside one day between the dorm buildings. “Oi, Deku, what’s the deal? You don’t need me anymore?” He refused to admit it bothered him to not be needed.

“What do you mean?”

“You keep paying me, but never come for my scent.”

“Oh… well, you see, now that I’ve found my place here, it’s, um, hurting my reputation that I smell like an Alpha. I still pay because I do appreciate everything you did for me Kaachan.”

“What the fuck? You getting all horny now, looking for action but nobody giving you that kind of attention?”

“What?! N-No!” He waves his hands desperate to wipe the statement away. “That’s not it, I’m not looking for that! I’m even on Heat blockers. It’s just, the Alpha’s they treat me differently. They’ll talk to me like they respect me but always at an arms distance and it’s frustrating. Even after a few months without your scent on me, they still keep a distance.”

It was driving Midoriya crazy! So, he started to question, what will happen when he does want to be courted by an Alpha?! What helped in his youth now backfired and the plans were blowing up in his face. The reputation of Bakugou having staked his claim years ago on the Omega would make finding a partner almost impossible unless he could find a way to distance himself. Who in their right mind would dare touch the Lord of Explosions chosen mate?!

“I hope once we graduate and go our separate ways, people will finally realize we’re not together.” Midoriya was sure that once the blonde settled into pro hero life, he’d start dating as well, and that’ll take the heat of his back.

“Tch, well I’m not a charity case, so stop paying me if you ain’t getting a benefit out of it. Guess that’s it.” Bakugou’s turns his back to the man and starts walking away. He tips two fingers, “see ya around nerd!”

Huh? Well that went easier than he’d expected it to. All this time avoiding the conversation only for Bakugou to have no real reaction. Guess this really was just a business transaction for the Alpha. Midoriya shrugs, so be it, and continues on his way.

Unfortunately, things weren’t all that it appeared to be for the Alpha. After walking away from the Omega, a dull pain centered in his chest making it a little hard to breathe. But not wanting to show weakness, Bakugou ignored it and continued to strut back to his dorm room. Perhaps he’d overexerted himself again in the gym.

It’s a pain that started a couple of months ago that came and went, that he equated as simply working too hard. His muscles are still adjusting to the heavy schoolwork on top of the skirmishes the students got pulled into. That had to be the answer, for what else could it be? But after a week of the pain not letting up, Bakugou finally relented and consulted the nurse.

“Well,” the nurse, Recovery Girl sits back on her stool. “Don’t know what to tell ya, cause they ain’t nothin physically wrong with you that I can find. But if you think it’s muscle related, ease up on your workouts and take magnesium supplements.”

“The fuck you sayin old hag?! I can’t stop exercising. My quirk demands a topnotch body!”

She shrugs her shoulders, used to the hotheaded Alpha by now. “Then just learn to live with the pain. It’s not uncommon from pro heroes to suffer from pain, especially those with strong quirks like you have. You’re kinda young, but with how hard you push yourself, it’s inevitable.”

“Argh!” Bakugou storms out of the room. Fucking useless old bat! Two months away from graduation and being told he’s already developing, what, an old person’s problem?! “Fucking hell!” This is bullshit!

He flies it out of the room so quickly, that when he rounds a corner in the hallway, runs smack into a body. “Get the fuck outta my way!!”

“Kacchan?! Oh my god, sorry I didn’t see you coming!”

The world stops cold. “Deku…” suddenly the pain in his chest lessens as the calming scent of the concerned Omega wraps around his body. Bakugou’s eyes flash wide. “Oh, fuck no!” Quick like a bolt of lightning, the Alpha races away leaving the shocked and confused Omega standing there alone calling after him. Bakugou grits his teeth as he beelines it back to his dorm room. ‘It’s just a coincidence!’

“What was that all about?” Midoriya mumbles under his breath. It was the first time he’s seen the Alpha look, scared? No way, the Omega dismisses the notion. Bakugou wasn’t afraid of anything. He must have just been surprised to see him.

He continues on to the lab where he’s close to finishing a new project. The Alpha, Shouto Todoroki, requested a better cooling material for his suit. The pro needed something that insulated the cold from his quirk for a longer lasting effect. That way Hellfire would also be more sustainable.

It was a major nod to the Omega considering the man was up and up against Bakugou in terms of power. Currently, they were the top two pro students and Alpha’s of UA. Plus, Todoroki was not only cute but the complete opposite of Bakugou in personality. He was always kind to the Omega. Not that anything was going on between them! But the minor attention was exactly what triggered him to back away from his old friend.

From that moment in the hallway on, every time Midoriya came into contact with Bakugou, the Alpha turned heel and avoided any interactions. He couldn’t lie that it didn’t hurt just a little. They’d never been the closest friends, but it was as if the blonde was angry with him and that bothered him because he couldn’t understand why? But he also wasn’t gutsy enough to question the man either. Did turning down his scent hurt Bakugou’s pride or ego? Frankly, that would not be surprising.

The day of their graduation was a whirlwind of activity. The stadium packed just like the Sport event; even a similar turn out. Family and friends were there to celebrate, pro’s and companies were there to recruit. First the Support class, then the General studies, and lastly the Heroes courses all went up and received their diplomas. After the ceremony, the students were sent to designated spots to meet with their families and friends first. From there they could venture around to see other people.

“Thanks mom,” Midoriya hugs the crying woman for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

“I’m just so proud of you son!”

A tap on his shoulder cuts into the tender moment. “Forgive me for intruding Mrs. Midoriya. My father would like to meet your son.”

The pair’s eyes widen as the Number One hero stood in front of them. He was such an imposing figure!

“N-Nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor!” Midoriya bows.

“My son tells me you were able to create a better suit for him.”

Midoriya looks to his friend then back to the man. “Yes, sir I did.”

“Good. Perhaps you’ll be very useful in the future.” Endeavor nods his head and simply walks away without another word.

“D-Did he just?!”

“My father would like me to bring you by the agency next week for an interview.”

“Oh, wow really?!”

“Yes,” Todoroki chuckles.

“I’ll leave you two to discuss things,” Mrs. Midoriya cuts in. “It was nice to meet you Todoroki.”

After the goodbyes, the two men continue discussing the interview. Things like what he should bring, how he should dress, and what time to arrive. Midoriya had assumed Endeavor contracted out support work, but it turns out they have in-house staff.

“There is one last thing I would like to discuss.” The Alpha takes hold of the Omegas hand. “You see I’ve grown quite fond of you,” he leans down, sniffing at the scent gland of the smaller males neck. “Your scent…” his voice grows soft like a purr, “I wish to court you properly Midoriya Izuku.”

“W-What?”

“WHAT!?!!”

The feral growl behind him causes Midoriya to flinch. Before he can register just what the hell was going on, he was pushed back and a second Alpha stood between him and Todoroki.

“K-Kacchan?!” He grabs the man’s arm. “Kacchan what are you doing?!”

But the larger male simply grabs hold of him and pushes him back again, all while staring down the other Alpha.

“This mouse is taken,” Bakugou growls low and narrows his eyes, challenging Todoroki.

Todoroki glares back unflinching. “You don’t care about him, only took his money for protection. That doesn’t make him yours Katsuki.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“You don’t,” the man grins. “Three years I watched from a distance. How he’d sneak into the dorms in the morning, pay for your lunch in the cafeteria, and for what? We could smell you on him yet not once did you two ever hang out with each other.”

“S-So what! That doesn’t mean I don’t care about him! I took the protector role to fucking protect him!”

Todoroki scoffs, “I bided my time and once the daily visits ended, I started making my move. Not once did you ever stop us because you ran away from him! Stupid fool, how dare you decide to claim him now!”

Bakugou lowers his head just slightly, fists clench, and tiny explosions going off in his palms. “Fucking icyhot bastard. You don’t know what I’m feeling. Think I don’t know I fucked up when I shoulda faced the music sooner.” He stares straight up. “But I do know now, Deku’s mine! Hear me?! Mine!! And I am not fucking giving up my mate to you or any other bastard!”

The blonde pulls Midoriya forward, hands gripped to his arms. “Tell him Deku! Tell him you’re mine!”

“But am I? You’ve never shown any interest in me before Kacchan. Todoroki has helped me so much and now because of him, I’ll be interviewing for Endeavors support staff. Yes, your scent protected me from bullies, but I thought it was always just a business transaction.”

“N-no!” Bakugou staggers back clutching to his chest as the pain swiftly doubles. This can’t be happening! “You can’t pick him over me Deku!” The sting of rejection was worse than a villain breaking every bone in his body. He cries out and drops to the ground in a fetal position as the pain rips through his chest and knocks the wind out of him. “Fuck it hurts!” It was too excruciating, so much so, his body was slipping out of consciousness in response.

“Kacchan?!” Midoriya falls to his knees too and grabs the man, shaking him. “Kacchan, what’s wrong with you?!” He felt helpless as the man’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“Wow Katsuki… you really do love Midoriya.”

The Omega looks up at Todoroki. “How do you know that?!”

Todoroki points at Bakugou. “If an Alpha covets an Omega but is rebuffed, they are stricken with illness. It only happens when we truly love someone.”

“S-So if I turn you down, you’ll get sick too?!” Why is this whole love stuff so cruel?! This was not what he’d expected to happen! Tears gather in his eyes. “That wasn’t part of the plan. I-I just wanted to know what he really thought about me.”

“Fret not,” Todoroki smiles at him. “You’re cute, but I’m not in love with you. But now that you have your answer, my role is done. I’ll see you at the interview next week,” he winks and walks away to find his girlfriend.

“O-Okay, thank you Todoroki!” Midoriya turns back to the comatose man by his side and continues shaking him. “Kacchan! Please wake up! I’m here! I’m not going anywhere! Just wake up!”

A small crowd gathered around them, but he didn’t care, too concerned with Bakugou’s condition. Had he known an Alpha could suffer like this, he never would have attempted this little rouse. Todoroki was the one who suggested it, but neither of them could have known the blonde had fallen so deeply in love.

With the help of Bakugou’s teacher, Shota Aizawa and another staff member who came on the scene, they take the unconscious Alpha to the infirmary. They place him on one of the beds where Recover Girl checks him over. The man was out cold, but his vitals were steady.

Midoriya takes a seat by the bedside, clutching to his friends hand. It’s been an hour since they’d arrived and according to the nurse, it was now a waiting game. “Please,” the Omega squeezes the Alpha’s hand, “come back to me Kacchan…” He closes his eyes to rest them, laying his head against the man’s arm. He was so emotionally exhausted from the ordeal of the day, but he’s not moving until the man wakes up. Six years and never once he allowed himself to hope, until now.

“Mmmm,” Midoriya stirs at the feeling of fingers treading softly through his hair. “That feels so nice,” he purrs to the familiar scent of burnt sugar he’d come to know so well. It wrapped around, calming, calling the Omega out of his dream.  

Wait! Burnt sugar?! He pops up immediately, “Kacchan?!” Scrambling onto the bed and swaddling the Alpha. “I was so worried,” Midoriya buries his face in the man’s neck. “Why didn’t you just tell me?!” He sniffles.

Bakugou wraps his arms around the man, leaning his head against his and relishing in the contented tones exuding from the Omega’s scent. “I’m up now, so stop crying Deku.” He sighs, “and I didn’t tell you cause I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

“Yes,” he lifts Midoriya’s face, fixing his eyes in a stare, “I am. All because I didn’t want to admit I was weak for you.”

“So, you really mean it? That you want me to be your mate even though I’m quirkless?”

“Did I fucking stutter? But guess what Deku?”

“What?”

The Alpha kisses him roughly, nipping his lip before pulling away, “I’m claiming my final payment.”

“Oh!” Midoriya giggles, “what’s the payment?”

“You.”

~~~XX~~~

Just because they finally figured things out, didn’t mean either of them wanted to rush into a relationship. It was simply satisfying to know they wanted to be with each other. And for that reason, Midoriya continued to use heat blockers as a birth control, just like he’d done for the last several years.

The Omega respected the fact Bakugou focused on having a good career in the pro hero world. His ambitions to reach the top given a whole new incentive in order to provide for a family one day. But the Alpha was proud of his betrothed’s advances as well. After high school, the up and coming Support technician proved his worth for the Endeavor agency while he himself worked as a side kick to the head man himself.

Bakugou dreamed of one day owning his own agency, but until then, he pushed himself hard under the constant tutelage of the number one hero. They were both paid well at their jobs, and continued to maintain separate homes… for now. The blondes excuse being he would court Midoriya properly this time around.

Except when it came to sex. That part of their relationship was consummated two nights after graduation. In a protected knotting, they marked each other and staked their claims for all to see. Bakugou  had been pleasantly surprised to find the shy, docile man was quite rambunctious in bed. But contrary to popular belief, it was closer to a vanilla encounter.

Both of them had been too excited and also nervous being a first time for either of them. Having been Midoriya’s protector for so long, the Alpha was almost terrified of hurting the smaller Omega and it took gentle coaxing to allay those fears. But in the end they’d been left satisfied and fully affirmed in their decision to spend the rest of their lives together.

Once the workload kicked in, any free time they had were spent together at one or the others apartment. Bakugou would take Midoriya out on dates, to dinners, movies, or anywhere the man fancied though it was rarely a lavish affair. The Omega preferred the quieter moments such as lounging on the couch and cuddling during a movie.

This went on for two years as the Alpha slowly built up a savings. He knew it would be several years before he could buy a bigger house, but soon enough he was ready to afford a 2 bedroom apartment in a nice area of town. So, he made up an excuse to stay with Midoriya while he moved into the new place, furnished, and prepared it to accept a mate.

“Perfect!” The blonde stands with his hands on his hips admiring his handiwork. Everything his Omega will need was purchased and set up in what will be their new nest. He’d spared no expense on a top of the line, plush, memory foam bedding. Extra blankets, pillows, you name it, Bakugou bought it. And last but not least, he scented all the fabrics with his musk. All that remained was surprising Midoriya.

He timed the reveal for the last week of the month, explaining his apartment was ready again and he wanted Midoriya to see the changes.

“Where are we going? This isn’t the direction of your place.”

“It’s the direction to my new place.”

“Kacchan, you moved apartments without telling me?”

He kisses the back of the Omegas hand, “well a surprise isn’t a surprise if I told you about it.”

When the elevator opens, Bakugou leads him to one of the apartments. He opens the door and gestures for the man to enter. “Welcome to your new home Izuku.”

“Huh? My, but I have an apartment…” the Omega gasps when he turns and finds his Alpha on one knee. “K-Kacchan,” his hands fly up in shock and face lights up.

“It’s time to officially cash in my payment chip,” the blonde grins, holding up a ring. “Izuku Midoriya, will you be my life mate?”

Moisture instantly builds in the Omegas eyes, “yes! Yes!” His hands shaky as the Alpha slips the ring onto his finger.

Bakugou gets to his feet and kisses the man slow and steady. He takes Midoriya’s hand. “There’s one thing I really wanna show you, then we’ll go pack up your apartment.”

“Oh my goodness!” The omega squeals at the site of his beautiful new nest and throws himself onto his Alpha, hugging and kissing the man. “Kacchan, you spoil me!”

“You deserve to be spoiled,” he smiles back. “Test it out.”

Midoriya dives onto the bed and bundles the blankets to his nose. It smelled like Bakugou! He closes his eyes with a moan, taking it all in and burying his face into the fabric. The Alpha laughs at how childlike his mate was behaving, but that was Midoriya for you. Just a ray of sunshine who wore his emotions on his sleeve.

While the Omega relishes in his new surroundings, Bakugou just stands back in admiration. To the outside world the pro Alpha hero was a temperamental hothead who took shit from no one. But those in the know, knew Midoriya had him wrapped around his finger.

The Omega never took advantage or made it feel like an obligation. Bakugou just came to realize he could be himself with the man. No keeping secrets or holding back. Their long history delving back almost two decades meant Midoriya knew him well and he Midoriya. This little mouse could calm him down without his Omega pheromones. But boy does those scents drive him wild too!

Just picturing his freckle faced cherub cuddled in his arms with a child between them sent a delectable shiver racing straight to his groin. Bakugou chuckles in his head, probably why the man was smart enough to stay on the birth control, because he knew without it they’d have already started a family before they were ready.

“Join me— Kacchan!” Hands reach out, beckoning him to the bed.

The Alpha grins and plops down close, pulling the Omega to him. He kisses Midoriya’s forehead. “I take it you’re happy?”

“Of course!” The man nestles deeper into his Alphas arms, resting his head against his chest. “But I’d be happy anywhere as long as I have you with me.”

Bakugou relishes in the euphoric scent his mate was giving off. It made his inner Alpha preen with pride. “Never in my life have I wanted a family more than I do in this moment. And I don’t care if they have quirks, are quirkless, as long as they’re healthy, and they’re ours.”

“Mmm, our own family…” child Midoriya’s dreams could never have predicted the life he ended up with. “Sometimes I pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

“Did I ever tell you thank you for pulling that stunt at graduation?”

Midoriya sits up, hesitant, his scent immediately registering anxiety. “No.” Why is he bringing that up now?

But Bakugou counters with calming Alpha pheromones as he pulls his mate back into his arms. “I still can’t stand the smug bastard, but I’m glad icyhot helped you help me get outta my own head or I wouldn’t have this life.”

“You had me so panicked Kacchan! I thought I’d killed you or something.”

“Pfft, I’m tougher then that.” He kisses Midoriya’s forehead, sweeping his thumb lovingly over and caressing the Omega’s cheek with a grin, “but I think in the end I really got the better part of the deal.”

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Heartbeat

In a heartbeat the short film... that in an au where your heart literally chases after the person you love. Imagine that with smol lexa being all what is an emotion but her heart is all !!! every time clarke is around. Also pls have it in the canon universe cause that would be a lot more hilarious if the commander of 12 clan's heart is constantly chasing after the commander of death

The rain was not going to interrupt training. It didn’t matter that the world was sloshing full of mud and everything was drenched through completely. The initiates stood at stance one and waited for the signal to attack, defend, and parry. 

Even so young, Lexa was deemed a favorite for the conclave. Agile and fast, smart and fierce, she exhibited all of the traits of a good and just ruler. But as the signal went, she proved to those who watched why she was a force to be reckoned with, laying her opponent flat on their back in a matter of seconds and with such dexterity, it was as if she was the rain, moving so quickly, so naturally. 

“Lexa, good,” Anya muttered, looking down over her cheekbones as she surveyed the other fights. 

With the smallest of grins, the girl of eight nodded and extended her hand to help her partner up from their back in the mud. 

“Prepare to go again,” Titus yelled over the rain from his booth above the training grounds. 

Lexa didn’t move to push the water out of her eyes, nor did she hear anything other than the beat of her heart in her ears as she sized up her next opponent. Each fight was a matter of life or death to her. That was how she was going to win the entire thing per her plan, because she very much did not want the alternative. 

The horn sounded and she prepared again, though this time, something caught the corner of her eye as she dodged an attack from the larger boy opposite her. And she couldn’t hear her heartbeat a second later. Three seconds later, she was on her back, wheezing out a sigh as she had the wind knocked out of her. 

“That seems to be enough for the moment. Break out and prepare for study,” their teacher said, dissatisfied to see his star pupil fail. 

Lexa accepted the hand given to her by her partner, and when she came up, she looked around to see what had ruined her perfect record. Not by her choosing, her feet followed the sight of stark yellow hair, peaking occasionally through the stalls in the market. The nghtblood found herself ducking baskets and weaving through legs and arms laden with goods as she followed the only color that appeared in the haze of the dreary day. 

And then it was gone. 

Lost to the crowd and unknown to her, she felt her heartbeat pick up, tapping excitedly, as if it were trying to beat its way out of her chest completely. But she turned around, ready to return to her lesson, slightly afraid of what Titus might--

She made it two steps of not paying attention to smack into the most wonderful pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen in her whole life. 

Nose to nose, the two children stood there. The only movement that was made was by Lexa to put her hands over her chest to keep her stupid heart from jumping out completley. It strained there, drawn to this stranger who furrowed and smiled. 

“Hi.” 

“H-h-hi,” Lexa managed, somewhat cross-eyed at the proximity. 

“Are you training to be commander?”

“Yes.” 

“That’s cool.” 

Lexa gulped and nodded. 

“I have to go. We have a long trip back to Arkadia. It was nice to meet you. I hope you win.” 

“Thanks.” 

With another second between them, the littler girl pushed past the gawking initiate in search of her parents that called her to them again. Lexa turned on her heel to watch the yellow hair disappear into the crowd again. 

XXXXXXXXXX

Over the years, Lexa sees the strange girl with the pretty yellow hair out from time to time. And without fail, she follows her at a distance, looking for a way to speak to her, but never knowing what to say. 

There was the time when Lexa caught her during a lesson, and asked to be excused, following her as she looked through the market. And there was the time she was at a ceremony, and the yellow hair wove through the crowded street, and Lexa ran down fifty flights of stairs just to lose her completely. There was the time they went to Arkadia as a unity meeting, and Lexa fell off of her horse when she saw the familiar face who furrowed and looked at her in the mud, offering a hand to help her up. 

It never ended well, Lexa realized, and yet her feet kept carrying her forward. And she couldn’t stop her heart from doing flips when she met a stranger. 

Freshly fourteen, Lexa was undefeatable in combat with her peers. She was gangly and smart, angry at the world and unable to focus on much of anything. It felt as if it’d always been that way, but she remembered a time of not feeling like she wanted to get hurt in combat. 

The sky was angry and hot, the sun burning through the trees as she set out on her hunt. Sweat pooled on her shoulders and back as she prowled through the woods in search of an offering for the festivities. 

Halfway through, the sound of hooves in the distance, and the deer she was tracking lifted it’s head and ran off while Lexa looked over her shoulder. Despite herself, she moved toward the noise of the people, following the group undetected. Skycru insignia were on their shoulders, and they moved without the grace of someone who was used to the ground. 

Annoyed as she was at having to restart, Lexa waited for the group to pass so she could resume but they slowed as they approached the stream, and as she circled toward the other side of the lake, a familiar stock of blonde hair moved through the green. 

“I’m going to take the long way around the lake,” the voice called. 

“Be safe. Take a radio, Clarke.” 

Clarke. That was the name attached to the voice and the eyes and the hair. The hunting trip was forgotten as Lexa followed along toward the lake and the figure that kept her up at night. She hadn’t meant to, but it felt as if she was being tugged in that direction. She paused when Clarke did, peering out from behind a fallen tree trunk. 

When the girl she was following turned around upon hearing a noise, Lexa hid, her heart beating in her ears, waiting a few moments to follow as Clarke made it to the lake where she paused and took off her shoes and then her shirt and Lexa was certain her skin was going to melt off. 

Clarke took a few steps out toward the water before she jumped, disappearing for a moment and reappearing a little bit further. This happened a few times until she walked back to the shore and took a seat on a long rock, drying in the sun. 

Lexa looked at her shoulders, already pealing from a previous tan. She looked at her hair, a lighter yellow than before. She looked at the skin exposed and glowing, shimmering with the droplets--

The crack of a stick below her feet made Clarke sit up and look toward her. Half out of the treeline, Lexa froze, unsure of how she’d moved so close. 

“I didn’t know anyone else was out here.” 

“I’m sorry,” Lexa offered quickly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“You’re the girl, from the horse.” 

Her face squinched up as she surveyed the newest arrival to the beach. 

“Lexa.”

“What are you doing out here? Isn’t there a festival this week in honor of the commanders who have come before?” 

“Hunting. I was hunting, to offer to the spirits,” she managed, watching as Clarke swung her legs over and stood there in just her shorts and a bra. It was hard to think of much else. 

“Are you hunting me?” 

“No, no, of course not. I didn’t-- I just-- I was moving toward the base of the mountain, there’s a spring there, and I was hoping one of my traps-- No, no. I wasn’t.” 

Clarke eyed her suspiciously before moving to slide on her shirt. She had a smile that made Lexa’s heart stop.

“Are you going to be the next Commander?” 

“I think so,” Lexa nodded, swallowing with the realization, unable to do much else because her chest was constricting and practically pulling her closer though her feet, graciously, remained steady and rooted at the edge of the forest. “I have to go now.” 

Before she could hear a response, Lexa turned on her heel and bolted back the way she came, sprinting as fast as she could away from the lake, away from the girl who now had a name, away from the weird way her heart was lead and then lighter than clouds, and then beating so fast it was silent, and then thumping in her ears so loudly it was deafening. She ran as far and as fast and as long as she could before she stopped, in a very different forest, doubling over, she sat down on a rock on the edge of a clearing and tried to catch her breath. 

XXXXXXXXX

Newly inaugurated as the proper Commander, Lexa sat on her thrown and took a deep breath, the power of her new position heavy on her shoulders. Thirteen years, she’d been the person who trained for this, and she’d never imagined it’d actually happen. It was always such an abstract idea, that she wasn’t sure what it all meant, just that she was ready. 

“The ambassadors are assembled, Heda,” Titus interrupted her meditation. 

Slowly, she opened her eyes and took a deep breath before nodding for them to be let in.The wisdom of the commanders coursed through her, and there was much to be done. The celebrations would come soon enough; for now, she was ready to prove her worth all over again to the people she needed to understand it. 

The ambassadors of the Twelve Clans filtered into their seats on the council, their handful of attaches quietly huddling behind them. When the last clan entered, Lexa gulped. 

She had done her best not to think about Clarke. It wasn’t easy,e specially in the days following the lake, but days grew into months, and when Lexa saw a familiar shade of blonde move around her orbit, she refused to follow. She held her heart in her hand and she squeezed and compressed it until it was the size of an arrowhead. She took that tiny, unrecognizable and achy thing, and she locked it in a metal box. She put that box under a boulder that no man could move. 

But now the boulder rattled slightly in her chest as she caught Clarke’s eye across the room and cursed that Skycru would be sitting on her left, the closest of any other clan. Clarke smiled at her and stood behind the chair of her people quietly. 

“Thank you for coming,” Lexa began after a few seconds. “I have been left with the monumental task of ensuring this coalition survives and keeping it strong. I count on each of the twelve clans to stand behind me now.” 

There was a rattle of approval from the people who already loved her. She nodded and held up her hand for their quiet. 

“We will be finally dealing with the question of Skycru. It is my goal to strengthen us, and to do that would mean to bring them in as the thirteenth clan, if they can agree to follow our laws.” 

She turned her look onto the ambassador and waited for him to speak. 

“We want nothing more than to become productive, helpful neighbors to our fellow man,” Marcus explained. “You honor us with your consideration.” 

“Heda, surely you can’t allow--”

“Aren’t you sick of war, Ambassador?” she interrupted. “I am. We’ve lost so much. We’ve lost people and time killing each other.” 

Without meaning to, she looked over at Clarke and she felt the boulder crack and the little metal box start to shake. 

“I was taught that love is weakness, but in reality, love is what defines all of our choices. It is what starts wars, and pride refuses to let us end them, but I do not want to spend my time as Commander responsible for so much death.”

“We have our ways, Heda.” 

“And I mean to honor them. It’s time for us to prosper and build a great world,” Lexa explained, looking at Clarke for a moment too long. The metal box was opened and she felt her chest flutter about as her heart stretched it’s legs. 

The chorus of people in her room murmured their approval, or at least their moderate acceptance of her plans. 

“We will perform the ceremony after my ascension festivities and Skycru will take the brand of the coalition,” Lexa decided. “For now, Skycru is in Polis under my protection as my guests.” 

“But, Heda-- the law states that any not in the coalition are due out by sunset.” 

“Skycru is here under my protection,” she repeated herself. “Disregard for my word is treason. We welcome them by showing them what our lives look like. I hope you find yourself comfortable in the city.” 

With that and little else, Lexa stood and walked through the hall, out of the door before nearly every one of her ambassadors could stand. It took all of her being to not turn around and see Clarke, but instead, she let the doors close and walked quickly to her room. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The city was alive with celebrating the newest ascension. They clamoured and sang and drank and toasted to many years of peace and prosperity, to their new Heda, to the new lives they hoped to lead. Below her room, the torches burned and the party continued, destined to last until the morning, though she chose to bow out as early as respectable. 

With a sigh, Lexa looked down at the glowing streets and listened to the laughter and music that was carried up to her on the wind, and she smiled. 

At the feast, she saw Clarke and smiled, but did nothing else. She was able to keep her heart under control for at least a few hours, which was a sign. She thanked the spirit of the commanders for helping her grow, and hoped it wouldn’t always been this rough. Surely her heart would tire itself out crushing on a complete stranger. 

“No more, Titus,” Lexa sighed, heavy and tired as a knock sounded at her door. “The world will be here in the morn--”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Heda.” 

Smiling and standing in her room, Lexa looked frantically at her guard, self-conscious that she was just in her sleeping clothes, her armor discarded for the day. She needed something to protect her from Clarke. 

“She came with the word of the Ambassador,” her guard explained. 

“No, no, thank you, Jax,” Lexa nodded with a furrow, waiting for him to close the door behind him. 

“I didn’t get a chance to say hello at the party.” 

“I’m sorry. I had to speak with-- You wanted to say hello?” 

“Yeah, I remembered you. So much has happened, but we’ve run into each other before.” 

Lexa took a step forward despite herself. She felt like she could see her stuipd heart tugging her toward Clarke. She very much wanted to be in her throne, where she couldn’t move. 

“Yes, at the lake,” Lexa nodded. 

“It was before that,” Clarke explained. “I don’t know if you remember. We were kids. You had the same warpaint then. I spent weeks playing and putting in on with old oil or grease, or whatever I could find.” 

That was it. Lexa felt her heart doing backflips in her chest at the idea of Clarke wearing her warpaint. She wanted to see it. She wanted to touch her cheek and lips. She cleared her throat to get a hold of herself, pressing her hand to her chest and letting it drop a second latter. 

“I think I remember,” Lexa nodded. 

“You were following me at the lake a few years ago. I remember that. And then you ran away.” 

“I had to finish preparing my offerings.” 

Clarke eyed her, trying to decipher something and failing. Instead, she took a deep breath and a step forward, making Lexa retreat one step. 

“You left your own party.” 

“I, um. I was tired.’ 

“Are you tired now?” 

“No. Not at all.” 

“I didn’t get a chance to give you my offering.” 

“Skycru has already performed the--” Lexa watched Clarke take another step forward and she remained rooted. Her heart was thumping in her neck and she was afraid that her head was going to explode. She felt like her skin was on fire. 

“Every time I’ve met you, you look like you have something you want to say but can’t. Will you tell me what you’ve been holding?” 

“Nothing.” 

It was instantaneous that she uttered the response, prepared to die with all of the things left unsaid. That was easier, and for a moment she let herself consider the merits of war as memory-eraser. 

“”I won’t say anything. Just say it quickly and then I can give you a present.” 

Clarke got her a present. Lexa was the commander of twelve, soon to be thirteen clans, and she felt her body shiver with the idea that Clarke thought about her. 

To her credit she debated what to say before deciding that she was the commander and she could do whatever she wanted. So she set her back and shoulders, squared her feet, and met Clarke’s eyes. 

“The first day I saw you, I felt this… I felt like my heart was drawn to you. It pulled me through the market until I met you. And every time after that, when I’d see you somewhere, my whole body feels like it’s on fire. I saw you at the lake, and Id idn’t mean to walk toward you, but again, i couldn’t help it. I don’t know how to make it stop, despite my best efforts.” 

“Wow.” 

“Yes, I know--”

Clarke smiled and pressed her palm on Lexa’s chest, careful to feel the heartbeat growing in that exact spot. She looked at her hand and smiled, pressing there with a little bit of pressure. 

“It feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.” 

“It might try,” Lexa confessed sheepishly. The blush crept up her neck to her ears. She wasn’t sure why Clarke brought her hand up and placed it on her own chest, but Lexa looked at her palm as it sat on this girl’s chest. She felt a familiar and loud and fast racket. 

It took a few moments for Lexa to compute it all, but eventually she realized what it meant. 

“You felt it, too?” 

“I don’t know what it means,” Clarke shook her head. Lexa just smiled back a her. 

“Yes you do.” 

Both stood there, hands feeling each other’s hearts beat wild, steady rhythms against their rib cages. Lexa took the time to meet Clarke’s eyes and she stared so intensely, Clarke looked away, a blush on her cheeks. 

“I’m not going to--”

Before Clarke could finish, Lexa leaned forward and kissed her. Pressed her lips to hers and held them there, afraid to move any other part of her body, but her neck craning forward. It too a few seconds, but much to her relief, Clarke kissed her back, hands wrapping around her neck and shoulders, pressing her body against her own. 

“Wow,” Lexa sighed and chuckled. 

“I agree.”

[snowbellewells]

Captain Swan Movie Marathon: “Carolina Moon”

Here is my second submission to the @captainswanmoviemarathon event!! This one is a modern au of the Nora Roberts tv movie (adapted from one of her novels) Carolina Moon. The main female character in the movie is psychic/clairvoyant (I’ll admit, I’m not too sure on the distinction between the two) and I thought her visions and what she goes through in connection to them made a nice real world parallel to Emma’s magic. (There’s also a scene in here where the male lead says something that I could so perfectly see Killian saying to Emma… I just cannot wait to get to that point!)

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this romantic thriller with some murder mystery elements.  There are some instances of abuse and violence in here though - which I feel like I should mention, since that’s a little darker than my typical style. Most of them are in flashbacks of Emma’s past, or in visions she has of victims, more than in the actual present day plot, still I wanted to make people aware before we got too far.

Please enjoy! (I’d love to hear what you think.)

Chapter One

July 1993

The water at their hideaway always feels so good. She could sink into it until her head slips below the surface and never, ever want to come up for air. It’s cooler, more luxurious than even the rich, satiny sheets on the trundle bed those rare nights she gets to sleep over at Rose’s. Emma Swan’s gangly, 13-year-old limbs slice through the murky water as if the constant humidity and sultry air of Storybrooke, South Carolina can’t penetrate here in their little haven. She knows, of course, logically, that the real world isn’t all that far away. The shaded pond she and Rose discovered two summers ago is just a short trek into the woods at the furthest edge of Rose’s family’s boundless acres. Still, it feels removed enough to bring Emma a sense of peace and contentment she gains nowhere else.

Looking over her shoulder to the large, smooth boulder jutting up out of the pond at the bank where they left their flip flops and cutoff denim shorts, she can see her best friend stretched out with her new book where they had spread their towels on the rock’s surface, just in the wash of warming sunlight that streams through the tree branches overhead. Her friend’s flawlessly creamy pale skin is prone to burning, but at the moment Rose seems willing to take the risk for the benefit of lazing cozily to read as she dries in the sun after taking a quick dip. Shaking her head, Emma plunges back under, happy to stay in the chilly water a bit longer herself. She knew as soon as they’d met outside Rose’s house that afternoon and Rose had held the newest entry in her favorite mystery series in her hand that she wouldn’t be able to resist burrowing into those pages for long.

It’s funny, Emma supposes, but that’s exactly what bonded she and Rose in the first place. They might seem different on the surface, but in the end, neither of them quite fit with everyone else, and so they gravitate to each other, and have ever since Emma first arrived in Storybrooke as an eight-year-old orphan. They’re willing to give each other at least one other person who takes them as they are and with whom they won’t have to pretend. Emma doesn’t care if Rose wants to read quietly and tell her about the stories she’s already finished instead of picking out dresses for the next cotillion class or preening in front of the mirror to practice batting her eyelashes to charm boys or bragging to Emma about which ones she intends to kiss. Her sister Ruby, who shares the same thickly shining, burnished mahogany hair and pretty pink lips but little of her fraternal twin’s calming, gentle personality, does enough of that for the both of them. Their mother, a former debutante and southern belle, delights in the one daughter’s traditional coquettishness, and despairs of the other’s shyness, a true throwback to another time who wants nothing more than to see both daughters marry well and retain their places atop the social ladder. In turn, Rose doesn’t mock Emma for her thick, dark-framed glasses or secondhand clothes, nor does she cringe away from the “fits” that sometimes take hold of her friend, making strange, disturbing scenes Emma can’t understand flash across her mind with such intensity they sometimes knock her off her feet. Emma knows Rose’s mother and sister find her an unsuitable and embarrassing companion for Rose, but she is eternally grateful her friend seems able to see the best in anyone - even a lost girl nobody else wants - and so blithely acts as though she has no idea of the rest of her family’s opinions.

Cringing even while still submerged in the pond’s depths and practically invisible, Emma tries not to think of her unwanted visions. Her strict, hypocritical, and more than a bit deranged foster father claims she’s possessed - and more than once has taken her episodes out on her hide. The man swears he’s beating the devil out of her and putting the fear of God in Satan’s place when he takes the thick leather strap to her shoulders, back and legs until she bleeds, but Emma has already lived long enough in a cruel and unfair world to know that his violence and “discipline” have less to do with parenting and concern for her soul, and more to show for his own twisted mind and overindulgence in the bottle. She wants to hide her spells from him, but when they come on her so abruptly and with such power, they are impossible to miss. She can’t fathom how a person like him was deemed fit to take in and care for a child, but it seems to be her lot, and so she simply grits her teeth and survives.

It’s different when the spells happen around Rose; the slight brunette merely rests a cool, steadying hand on Emma’s forehead or her arm until it passes, helps Emma stand until she feels in control again, listens as she attempts to make sense of whatever she’s seen, and most importantly… believes her. If only she could stay in the huge house Rose’s family calls home. She’d cook, clean, do chores, and stay in the servant’s quarters, Emma isn’t picky. It would still be a far sight safer than the situation she had in the rundown shack with the monster who’d been deemed her caretaker. Barring that, she would honestly rather live wild in these woods and survive off the land. She knew which plants and berries were safe to eat, Graham, her friend and a fellow orphan now happily adopted, had taught her how to fish; it wouldn’t be easy, but she’d get by, and at least no one would lay a hand on her again.

This afternoon, those eerie images she sometimes had seem far away as she splashes up out of the water, trying to arc playfully like a mermaid as she breaks the surface. Drawing in a big gulp of air after staying underwater so long, Emma startles at the sound of teasing laughter, and whirls to see three figures on the bank where she and Rose left their shoes and shorts. 

“Well, look here,” calls out a taunting voice that never fails to set Emma’s nerves on edge. “It’s the baby beached librarian and her drowned rat friend!” none other than Emma’s nemesis Killian Jones crows from his vantage point on dry land.

Rose sits up ramrod straight, book still in hand and annoyed scowl on her face at the quiet of their sanctuary being interrupted. She isn’t genuinely angry, though; for all that she and her sister shared little in common, she and her two years older brother are affectionately close. “Shut up, Killy!” she shoots back, throwing in the childhood nickname they all know he hates. “Who asked you to come looking anyway?”

The boy standing next to Killian speaks up next, making Emma scowl just as playfully as Rose had moments before. Graham Hunter might as well be her big brother; he’s the closest thing she’d had to family since her parents were lost in a car crash and she was thrown into the foster care system. Be that as it may, he and Killian Jones are thick as thieves, and he’ll give her a hard time for all he’s worth in while in the presence of his buddy. “We just wanted to swim,” he calls across the water to the two girls, smirking at Emma, now standing in the water with one hip jutting out and hands planted on her waist. “How were we supposed to know you two were infesting it?”

“Ha!” Emma jeers back, the affront plain in her voice; despite the fact that the entire routine is like a practiced girls-versus-boys exchange they’ve all engaged in countless times. There isn’t much else to do for entertainment in their sleepy little one-horse town. “You idiots know this is Rose and I’s hideaway, fair and square!”

“Well, Rose’s anyway,” a third voice cuts in snidely.

The cruel jab reminds Emma once more that she is just a charity case, quite possibly only included in anything at all because of her friend’s kind heart, and causes her gaze to cut sharply to the third member of the boys’ little crew, hanging back slightly in the shadows behind Killian and Graham as he always does. Her green eyes narrow to slits in genuine dislike and suspicion. Where before her animosity was largely for show, when they land on Walsh Ozman it is all too real.

She has never understood why the other two boys - jokers and annoyances though they may be, but good guys when it comes right down to it - hang out with Walsh at all.  Where Graham and Killian are much more cut from the same cloth - athletic, outgoing, well-liked and pleasant - Walsh is a splindy, sniveling character, complaining and whining whatever their little trio gets up to. He lives not far from Emma’s foster father’s cabin with his single mother - a bushy-haired redhead who seems strangely overprotective and attached to her only child. Most people give the property a wide berth, except when high schoolers teepee it the whole month of October, and the general town consensus is that Zelena Ozman might be a witch and to steer clear. Still, beyond all of that, Emma might have been able to look past the boy’s circumstances and see him for himself - she of all people knew the gift it was not to be judged by where a person came from - if Walsh hadn’t simply given her “the willies”. Even standing too close to him made the fine hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end - and not in the way that nearness to Killian sometimes did; an altogether much more pleasant tingle, even if she was just as unable to explain one as the other.

“We could just take their things,” Walsh suggests, holding up the threadbare, faded jeans Emma had left on the bank. “Make them walk back in their skivvies.” The wicked smile on his face makes Emma’s stomach turn over sickly.

Something sharp flashes in Jones’ eyes, his nostrils flaring slightly and his head giving a subtle shake of dissent that Emma can see even at the distance she stands away from him. Protectiveness, chivalry, or maybe the honor of a southern gentleman passed down to him through generations of his impressive family line, whatever it is, it sparks to life in his eyes at that moment as he quashes Walsh’s mean-spirited suggestion in no uncertain terms. “That’s my little sister you’re talking about Oz,” he growls, smacking the worn material from the smaller’s boy’s hands, even if the article of clothing isn’t Rose’s at all.

Emma feels her breath rush back into her lungs, though she continues to watch the guys warily for whatever they might do or say next. Before long, they grow bored of standing around and move on, hollering out age old taunts of “Bye, losers” and “Hey, smell ya later” to Emma’s derisive snort and Rose completely ignoring them to flip open her book again.

However, even with the intruders gone, it seems as if the perfect comfort of their retreat has been shattered by the unsettling interruption.  Soon, Emma wades to the shore and Rose clambers down from her perch, to dress once more and return to the world outside. For a moment, as she refastens her jeans around her skinny waist, Emma feels a strange prickling along the fine hairs on her arms… like they’re being watched. She jerks around, searching the surrounding trees and brush, but can’t see or hear a thing.

Rose’s small hand takes hers, snapping Emma out of the moment. “What is it?” she whispers, only true caring in her voice. “Did you sense something?”

Emma nods, but can’t give her suspicions voice. Usually her vision are clearer than that - this had just been heavy breathing and like looking at herself and Rose through another person’s eyes, outside her own body.

Rose stooped to grab the little canvas bag she’d bought along with water bottles, towels, and a second book in it. “Hey, don’t worry, okay?” she offers, hopeful and kind as always. “You’ll figure it out. Wanna meet back out here tonight? Secret Sister bonfire?” she winks mischeivously. “I have to get to dinner now. You know how Mama hates it if I’m not washed up and properly attired for the evening meal - or a second late. But we can talk some more then, maybe you’ll remember more and it will be clearer.”

Emma nods gamely. “The stars’ll be beautiful by midnight,” she suggests. “And we’ll definitely have the place all to ourselves.”

“Since we were so rudely interrupted,” Rose chimes in with a giggle and roll of her eyes.

“Shake on it, pinkie swear,” they say together in practiced unison, executing a complex handshake that ends with their pinkies hooked together and wide, matching grins on both their faces.

“Thanks Rose,” Emma whispers sincerely, trying to speak around the lump in her throat as if it’s no big deal. “I’ll be out here as soon as I can sneak away.”

Rose, for her part, wraps her taller, golden-haired friend into a tight, momentary hug. “Hey, we’re Secret Sisters! You can count on me.  I’ll see you then!”

They part ways at the edge of the forest, Emma heading to the rundown cabin that serves as her nightmarish version of a home and Rose to the pristine, Jones mansion standing tall over all the surrounding land. Rose looks back over her shoulder with a smile and wave that bolsters Emma, and the memory fades back into the haze of the past…

Eighteen years later….

September 2011

The blaring of the horn as a sports car whizzed by, barely missing the nose of Emma’s beat-up yellow VW where it had begun to edge out into the country intersection jarred her back to the present with a gasp and painful jolt to her chest. Panting for a moment as she gripped the steering wheel, Emma tried to clear her head and calm the pounding of her heart at the near-miss.

‘Get it together,’ she berated herself. It might have seemed like only yesterday as she remembered that sunny afternoon at the swimming hole, but that day had been nearly two decades ago. She was a grown woman, had made a way for herself, fighting tooth and nail for every step forward, and she answered to no one. She had learned to stand up for herself, to control her visions and use them for good, and was a special consultant for the NYPD. But, more than all of that, she had come back to this place to find peace, to lay to rest the ghosts that followed her everywhere else she’d gone in the years between, once and for all. If she expected other to leave the past in the past, she’d first have to manage it herself.

She’d had no way to know as she and Rose parted that afternoon with promises and plans for later that it would be the last time she would ever see her friend. Emma had harbored the pain and the guilt and the unanswered questions ever since. Finally, it was time to meet the gazes of all of those who’d stared at her in suspicion before she’d been packed up and moved away once more, and it was time she found answers. She wasn’t the scared, whipped, mistreated adolescent she had been at 13. What she had lived through then wasn’t her fault, nor was what had happened to Rose that muggy July midnight. 

And if she had to return to Storybrooke, South Carolina to lay that burden down… well, it was long past time she did.

Tagging: @captainswanmoviemarathon​ @teamhook​ @revanmeetra87​ @lassluna @kmomof4​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jennjenn615​ @hollyethecurious​ @stahlop​ @winterbaby89​ @lfh1226-linda​ @therooksshiningknight​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @artistic-writer​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @tiganasummertree​ @xsajax​ @spartanguard​ @laschatzi​

[lo-55]

Tilt The Hourglass ch. 6

Maul adjusted the small holster against his hip and pulled his cloak tighter around him.

He never would have pegged Fett as being a tailor, but the mando had pulled out a thread and scissors and hemmed the cloak to fit Maul. It fell until halfway down his thighs, where he had pants and boots now. They hadn’t had the time to get Maul a full flight suit or any armor, but he was clothed at last and his long sleeves even connected to finger-less gloves. 

The dark cloak was pulled tight over his head. On his right hip was a small blaster, and in his new boot was a vibro-knife each. They weren’t lightsabers, but they would do. 

He felt wrong to not have his ‘saber against his hip, especially when they boarded the ship. He could sense them as soon as he stepped on board. The bright light’s of two Jedi, two lights he knew well. Kenobi and Jinn. 

He’d recognized Kenobi as soon as he’d seen him, hovering near the ship and looking like a convict about to be executed. 

As soon as he saw him he knew he had to get on board that ship, with or without Jango. 

This was Kenobi. Tiny, although a head taller than Maul himself, he was barely old enough to be out of their silly little temple. Maul needed to see him again.

Maul didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw him. He didn’t know if he was going to stab him or demand answers that Kenobi certainly wouldn’t have. 

Like what had happened. Two years ago, a bit more now, Maul had died and woken again. Decades in the future Kenobi had cut him down and ended a rivalry that spanned a lifetime. Why? Maul hadn’t been able to find information on it. Not that he could risk looking very hard without tipping off his master, mind. 

Still. 

He still had a scar on his hand, one triangle and one square pointed into his palm. One sith holocron and one jedi. Their voices still echoed faintly in his memory. 

Soon, he needed to take another trip to Malachor. Perhaps this time he could take Young Kenobi with him. The boy wasn't a sith. He didn’t have even the sliver of possibility for it that Ezra had possessed. 

Maul had done his best to make Kenobi Fall, and each time he had failed. Even in the end, Kenobi hadn’t hated him. He’d offered him only kindness. 

There was a reason that Maul had tried to get him to help him stop the rise of the Empire. The two of them were equally the best and worst examples of their respective orders. Between the both of them they could have kept Sidious from becoming emperor. True, Skywalker would have had to die, but Kenobi had lost his master, his lover, and Maul didn’t even know how many others. He would have survived losing his Padawan, if it was for the ‘greater good’ or whatever jedi preached. 

He was a good person. Disgustingly so. 

Malachor was a graveyard for Jedi as much as Sith. Maul could use that to convince him if he really had to. 

Jango gestured to him to follow along. 

Maul didn’t like deferring to anyone, but he would play along for now. It was better than Sidious. 

If Maul had ever met someone worse than him he could not recall. 

The pair boarded the ship just in time to see a young human being assaulted by a hutt, the creature’s fat fingers curled around his throat. 

It took Maul a total of two seconds to realize who it was, and by that time Jango had already closed the distance between them and pulled his blaster. Jango levelled it at the hutt’s head. 

“Let the boy go,” he ordered, his voice level. The Force was muffled through beskar, helmet’s especially, but Maul had spent time enough with Mandalorian’s that even with Jango’s helmet firmly in place he could still feel the anger that rippled through him. 

Mando’s and their children. 

“Hah? Why would I do that? We do not tolerate spies here! This is offworld terf, and we will-” 

“Drop. The. Boy.” 

The hutt eyed the blaster wearily before he tossed the body. 

Right at Maul. 

Maul caught him on instinct. The weight of Kenobi almost knocked him down, but Maul held firm. Had Kenobi always been so much taller than him? 

Maul kept a weary eye on the hutt, and Jango, ready to draw his blaster and fire. He could take four of whiphids before they got within arms length, and Jango could take the rest in that same time. 

The hutt cussed them out and made his leave, with the whiphids following along behind him. 

Maul looked down and froze when he found burning blue eyes staring back up at him. 

Young Kenobi was… not what he’d expected. 

He was tiny, for one thing. Baby faced, with all the puppy fat of youth that Maul, even younger than him, had mostly lost by now. He was thin and gangly the way humans’ were when they were getting ready for a growth spurt, and his hair had never been so red in the future. The last time Maul had seen it it had been almost entirely white. Had he always had freckles? 

Maul didn’t know what he’d expected to find in his rival, but what he found was a kid. 

This was not the padawan that had cut Maul down. This was not the knight that had hunted him half across the galaxy. This was not the hermit that had held his dying body by fire light. 

This was just- 

Obi Wan. 

Blue eyes rolled back in his head and Kenobi dropped in his arms. 

Maul looked up to find Jango with his visor tilted towards the pair. He felt bemused. Maul frowned at him and swung Kenobi over his shoulder’s in a firemen’s carry. 

“Shut up,” he snapped at the mandalorian. 

“I didn’t say a thing.” 

“You didn’t have to. You have a very expressive visor.”  

Jango snorted at Maul’s blunt accusation. 

“Perhaps I do. Let’s see if Clat’Ha has a place we can bunk down and check on your little friend there.” 

“He is not my friend!” 

Jango ignored him entirely and picked his way across the floor to the inside of the ship. There were panels missing and wires spilled out across the metal floors like the guts of a massive beast. 

Maul mentally categorized all of the easy access points, vents, weapons, and potential ambush zones. 

Finally they found Jango’s friend, the human woman in charge of the Arconan Mining Company. She took one look at Kenobi, still limp over Maul’s shoulders with a ring of bruises blossoming around his throat, and marched them into a small closet that served as a medical bay. Apparently mining was a dangerous occupation. Who knew? 

Maul let her take Kenobi from him and lay the boy down on a hard cot before she found a bacta spray and some bandages. A medical droid floated near by and glued a cut on Kenobi’s brow shut. 

“Are you alright?” Jango touched his shoulder. Maul twitched, but didn’t break the hold. He glanced up at the blank visor. 

“Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Worry emanate from Jango, amplified by their contact. 

“It’s not always easy seeing other’s get hurt. Especially ade. Children.” 

Maul squinted up at him. “People get hurt a lot around me,” he said slowly, like Jango was a particularly foolish child. “In case you forgot. I would have shot the hutt dead. Or hit him under his right arm. The third lung located there is close enough to the surface that the right pressure would rupture it and he would choke to death on his own blood. At least that young. An older hutt would be harder without a blaster. They’re very annoying.” 

Clat’Ha stared at him over Kenobi’s body before she looked to Maul’s new ‘care taker’. 

“...Jango what the fuck are you teaching this kid?” 

Before Jango could even defend himself  Maul wrinkled his nose at her. 

“He’s barely had me two days.” 

Maul hadn’t even learned that on Orsis. He’d learned that during his rise as a crime boss for the shadow collective, when he’d been forced to kill a few hutt’s to properly send a message.They would obey him or they would die. Maybe he should start building his criminal empire again. 

There was an idea. 

One for later. He needed resources he didn’t have yet, and Jango was as Mandalorian as they came. They wouldn't let a kid go easily. They would protect younglings with their lives if they had to. 

In retrospect, Maul should have advised Kilindi and Daleen to seek them out. But Sidious might have ripped that information from his mind, so perhaps it was for the best that he didn’t. 

Wherever they were he knew they were okay. Kilindi was resilient and Daleen was intelligent. Maul had faith in them. 

That didn’t mean he didn’t worry about them, or miss them. They were his.    

“Three,” Jango corrected mildly. “You were unconscious for the first one.” 

“Ah, yeah.”

Somehow that only seemed to alarm Clat’Ha more. 

What a strange woman.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Maul couldn't tell if he hated or loved this ship. 

 The ship itself was a hot mess, a wreck waiting to happen and it was probably older than everyone on it combined. It was dark in places where the wires needed replacing, and the whole thing was divided between two mining companies. 

The entire thing was saturated with animosity and hostility, and Maul drank it in. He pulled the distrust and anger out of the air and wrapped it up in a little ball inside his chest for later. It was a technique he’d figured out himself years ago. How to skim off the top emotionally. Theoretically it could be used to take an enemies fighting spirit and enhance an allies, but Maul had never really tried to do that. 

He preferred to enhance himself, and he was an assassin and a warlord more than a general. He fought on his own or in small groups in dark spaces, not in open fields with legions under his command. 

His little trick on Mandalore was an exception.

 Maul was even able to drink up the negative emotions that Jinn released into the Force. Irritation, worry, things that Maul hadn’t noticed when he had faced the man before. It was probably because the crew had misplaced a little jedi and everyone was in a tizzy. 

Maul could have ended the confusion, but where was the fun in that? 

Instead he sat with Kenobi. 

The boy had somehow managed to develope a fever and Jango had insisted that he be watched at all times. He’d woken up while Clat’Ha was with him, and Maul was fetching lunch with Jango. Every Time they saw the hutt’s on board Maul had to physically stop himself from trying to kill the slugs. 

Jango seemed to be able to tell how he felt, even though he was about as close to a Force Null as a man could be, and went out of his way to try and keep him from interacting with them. Outside of food runs it wasn’t hard. They were here for the Arconan Mineral Harvest Company, or whatever they were called, and that meant that they stuck to their side of the ship. 

The jedi master, Jinn, was the same. 

Maul couldn’t help but note that the ‘ever compassionate’ jedi didn’t show up to help Kenobi until his fever lowered the boys mental shields enough that his distress saturated the air in the room. 

When Jinn walked in, Maul stayed perfectly still and watched him go to Kenobi. He lay a hand on the boys brows and did… Something. 

Some jedi thing. Maul watched the fever start to fade and Kenobi’s eyes finally flickered open. 

Blue. Fuzzy and somewhat delirious. 

"H-how?" Kenobi’s voice was hoarse and rough. Maul had the distinct feeling that he was intruding on something here. Strangely, he didn’t care. 

"Don't try to speak," Jinn said quietly, "You've had a bad fever, but I've taken care of it. Your wounds turned out to be worse than initially assumed." 

Maul nearly gagged on the raw hope that floated off of Kenobi in response. "Is it really you?" he asked.  

Qui Gon smiled, the first time Maul had seen such an expression on his face. 

"Yes, it's really me."

“Did you come to look for me?” Obi-Wan asked hopefully. Maul nearly snorted. Well of course. This was his master, wasn’t it? Jedi always came for eachother. They were fools like that. 

(a quiet voiced asked if he would not have gone after Kilindi and Daleen if he could have. If he was not himself intending on going to find Savage.) 

Qui-Gon shook his head. “I‘m on my way to Bandomeer as well. I‘m on a mission for the Galactic Senate. Our missions have nothing to do with each other.”

“Still, we‘re together,” Obi-Wan insisted. His voice trembled with faint hope. “You could show me –”

But Qui-Gon shook his head. 

“No, Obi-Wan, that‘s not why I‘m here. Our destinies lie along different paths. Now is the time for you to get to know the people that you will serve. You must forget about me. You must serve the Jedi in ways other than as a Knight. There is honor in that, too.”

He did not say it cruelly, but it was clear that Qui-Gon‘s words struck Obi-Wan like a blow. He tried to hide it, but his eyes were sad and his shoulders hunched. 

Meanwhile, Maul was reeling. 

Jinn was not Kenobi’s master? Was that why he didn’t have that silly little braid? And, more important, what did he mean Kenobi wouldn’t be a knight? That couldn't be possible! Kenobi was the best of their order, he was the first jedi to beat a sith in combat in centuries, and, at the risk of sounding arrogant, Maul was one of the best trained sith in generations. Sidious, and even his master had never gone out and tested themselves against actual Jedi the way Maul had. Even before his dual with Jinn he’d already begun his head count. He had more true combat experience than the both of them, and it infuriated him in ways he couldn't even begin to describe that he still lost to Sidious. 

How could Kenobi not be a knight? It didn’t make sense. 

Was this how it had happened before? Or had Maul and Jango’s presence somehow changed Kenobi’s padawanship? 

Maul hadn’t done much to change the events of the world besides try to stop the massacre at Galidraan. Besides that he had only been at Orsis, and then Mustafar. 

Maul, barely more than a shadow pressed into the corner of the wall, watched numbly while an arconan shyly made his way into the room and introduced himself to Kenobi. Apparently word travelled fast on the ship, and the arconan miner’s had decided that Obi Wan was as much a hero as Maul and Jango for stranding up to the Hutts. 

Not that Kenobi had done much besides get strangled and struck. He even said as much. 

“Well, sit down and introduce yourself,” Obi-Wan said at last, waving the Arconan closer.. “In this

place, I need all the friends I can get.” 

“It seems you are in luck, then,” Jinn said with a mild nod towards Maul. Kenobi’s head whipped around, apparently seeing Maul for the first time. Yellow eyes met blue evenly. He would not look away from this boy. Kenobi looked away first, to the arconan. 

“Our name is Si Treemba,” the Arconan said, perching on a chair. The room was getting crowded. “We know yours is Obi-Wan Kenobi. We would be honored to be your friend.”

When attention turned to him again, he said simply, “Maul.” 

Maul could see the question on Kenobi’s lips, but he didn’t get to ask it. The door to sickbay slid open. Clat‘Ha strode in with an impatient expression, and Jango at her side. He made quite the impression. Jinn’s shoulders tightened and his hand drifted closer to the lightsaber at his hip. . 

“Good, you‘re here,” she said to Si Treemba, who scrambled to his feet. 

Clat’Ha turned to Jinn grimly. “We have a problem,” she said crisply. “Someone has been tampering with our equipment. Young Si Treemba here discovered it on a routine inspection. We have three Arconan tunneling machines in stock, and all three have been sabotaged.” 

“How so?” Qui-Gon asked.

Si Treemba stepped forward. “The thermocoms that monitor the tunnelers‘ hull temperature have been removed, sir. And the coring couplers have been rigged so that they will not disengage.”

Maul didn’t know mining equipment well, but he recognized most of the words. Thermocoms were used on certain stealth ships entering high density atmosphere’s to avoid blowing up when coming in quick and fast. If the ships overheated they would blow. He imagined that the drills did the same thing. 

Then a hutt arrived, and the whole situation turned into a not-so-passive-aggresive show down between Jinn, the Hutts, Clat’Ha and Jango. 

Maul watched it with growing irritation. All their problems would be solved if someone would just kill the hutt. He was guilty and everyone knew it. 

But the jedi wouldn’t do such a thing. 

Maul rolled his eyes when all that came of the argument was hot tempers and bland accusations of specism. Clat’Ha ran off to find her miner’s, with Jango in tow. He shot Maul a look that clearly said ‘stay out of trouble’. One Maul promptly ignored. 

Qui-Gon shook his head sadly. 

“There is a strong hatred between those two. Neither of them will listen.”

Listen to what? Maul rolled his eyes under his hood. The hutt was crooked and after power and the human was probably little better. A touch more concerned about her people maybe, and she hadn’t tried to get Jango to shoot him in the head, even if it would have been easier. 

Joy. Morals. 

“I don‘t understand,” Obi-Wan said. “Why did you let the Hutt go? He may be innocent of the crime of which he has been accused. But I‘m sure he‘s guilty of others.”

“Yes, he‘s guilty,” Qui-Gon agreed. “But Clat‘Ha has her defender. As Jedi, we are bound only to defend those who have no other means of defense.”

It was all Maul could do not to laugh outright. He had seen jedi become generals. What would Jinn have done if he saw their precious defenders of peace fight a war and send men to die on their behalf. 

“Still, one of Jemba‘s crew has to have sabotaged those tunnelers. Why doesn‘t he try to find out who did it?” Obi-Wan asked.

Qui-Gon answered, “Because if one of Jemba‘s men did do it, it will make him look bad before the miners‘ guild. He might be ordered off Bandomeer permanently. He knows that, so he won‘t point any fingers at his own.”

“Ah,” Si Treemba said. “And Clat‘Ha must feel the same. If anyone learned that one of her workers tried to frame Jemba, the miners‘ guild would be furious.”

“But it shouldn‘t be to hard to find out who really sabotaged the tunnelers,” Obi-Wan pointed out excitedly. His eyes were bright with a spark of determination in them. 

Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow. “This is not your affair,” he warned. “If you went looking for those thermocoms, all you would find is trouble. You must stay out of it. And stay away from the Offworld side of the ship. You‘re not fully recovered yet, Obi-Wan.”

Qui Gon left the trio in the infirmary. 

“...so we’re going, right?” Maul asked without being prompted. He looked at Obi Wan, who did look a bit sheepish. 

“We’ll need to search anywhere a thermocom could be.” 

“They’re small,” Si Treemba said helpfully, and held up his hands to display their size. 

“It won’t be too hard to search most of the ship, but the hutts will make it hard when we get closer to them. Best leave those ones to me, little jedi,” Maul advised. 

“But, I hardly know you. I couldn't ask you to do such a thing.” 

“You’re not asking, and I’m not giving you a choice. Shut up and start looking on this side of the ship, before your master finds out what you’re doing and scolds you.“

Kenobi’s gaze became downcast. “He is not my master. I am not his apprentice, nor am I duty bound to obey him.” 

Maul started to grin. He’d never expected such a rebellious streak from him. Maybe there was hope for the little jedi yet, when he was still this young. 

“Then fuck him. Let’s go to work.” 

Kenobi gaped at him while Maul stood and, with practiced ease, pulled a vent free and vanished inside of it.