#he thinks she's so cute all bundled up and growly

[softquietsteadylove]

Hey :)

If ur still accepting requests, could you something where Thena is on her period and is in a lot of pain (Cramps suck Fr) and Gil comforts her??? You can choose the AU <3

Btw ur entire account literally gives me life lmao 🫶🏼

Thena woke slowly, having drifted off on the couch after using the last of her pain meds. She had sent a message to Kingo to bring her more, though.

There were sounds coming from the kitchen. Panic flooded through her as she looked up and over the back of the couch.

"It's okay," he smiled at her, having sensed her alarm, "it's just me."

Gilgamesh.

Thena relaxed her knee-jerk reaction to reach for a knife. Although she was on high alert in other ways, seeing him at her stove. "What are you doing here?"

Gil turned down the burner on whatever he was cooking and came over to the couch, leaning on the back of it. "How're you feeling?"

"Answer me," she grumbled at him, curling around herself and drawing up the blanket she had thrown over her legs.

"I ran into Kingo while he was out getting some things," Gil answered gently, brushing some hair away from her cheek for her (why she let him was beyond her). "I offered to come and check on you."

Thena made a mental note to fire Kingo before she killed him.

"I've got some cheesy tteokbokki on for you," he smiled at her, leaving the back of the couch only to retrieve a tray from the kitchen and bring it over for her. "Start with this."

Thena frowned as he set the tray on her coffee table, on top of the laptop she had abandoned since cramps had robbed her of the ability to work from home.

He had arranged a glass of gingerale, a fresh dose of midol, a few crackers and cheese and even a few pieces of white chocolate (her favourite). There was even a tiny little vase with a budding lily in it.

Thena looked from the tray to the eager and hopeful face of the Tyrant King. She was still curled up around herself, and not just because of the cramps in her abdomen. "Why?"

His smile fell, and she hated to admit that it made her feel so bad she was willing to do anything to undo it. He corrected his expression, though, letting his smile become smaller but softer. "I'm your boyfriend, Ice. So I'm here to do boyfriend things, like comfort you when you're having a rough period."

She was a grown woman. She had no reason to be embarrassed about a perfectly natural function of her body. But she had never intended on letting him witness it firsthand.

She hadn't showered yet, she was sure she was pale as a ghost with messy hair and cold sweat on her skin. And that was to say nothing of the fact that instead of her usual silk nightdress she was in fuzzy sweatpants and an old hoodie.

Thena picked her head up off the throw pillow and gave him a withering glare, "my boyfriend, are you?"

"Well, let's go with that for now," he chuckled, putting his hand on her shoulder to steady him as he leaned over to kiss her cheek before returning to the kitchen.

She eyed the fresh ink of his ring tattoo as he moved.

"Your cup is still in its pot here, too--I just moved it."

Right, she had been boiling her menstrual cup while she had texted Kingo for supplies. This was exactly what she meant about Gil not having to be here doing all this for her. They were...something--she had thought to maybe call them an ongoing affair. But apparently he was her boyfriend.

That didn't mean she wanted him handling the pot that had a silicone cup she put in her-

Thena groaned, leaning her head back against her throw pillow again.

"Take your drugs, Princess. I'll bring lunch over in a sec."

She pursed her lips as she eyed the lovingly arranged platter he had brought her. She could hear him humming to himself in the kitchen behind her. It was so...domestic. She turned herself as best she could, keeping her blanket over her lap as she leaned just enough to reach the midol and the gingerale (and a piece of chocolate).

"Here we go," Gil narrated as he came over with a sizzling claypot in its holder. He walked over briskly with it, setting it down next to the other platter and sitting beside her. He turned to her with a grin, "want me to feed it to you?"

"Absolutely not."

"Aw, come on, Sweetness," he laughed as he stirred around the steaming hot rice cakes in their red sauce. "It'll be like the old days in the poison ward."

Was that what constituted 'the good old days' for them?

"I can feed myself," she huffed, although when he leaned out of her way, she realised just how far away the nice hot bowl really was.

"Here," he smiled, picking up the utensils and using the chopsticks to pile a few into a larger spoon as kind of an in-between serving vessel. He handed both over to her, "take your time."

Thena sighed, taking a few and blowing on them before eating them. She knew very well he made the best tteokbokki. He was quite a sufficient home cook, but something about how he made the sauce for the rice cakes--how he got them to the absolute perfect consistency for her every time. It never failed.

Gil rubbed her back as she slurped back a few more. "You could have told me, y'know."

Thena sighed between bites. She didn't have to answer him. If she didn't, he probably wouldn't pester her with it, given her current mood. She handed the spoon back so he could pick up a few more for her. "It's...personal."

He gave her a look. "Baby, I gave you a sponge bath while you were in the hospital. You think I can't handle your period?"

She glared at him; he didn't have to bring that up. "Not the point."

He let it go, handing back another few tteokbokki with stretchy, oozy cheese on them.

"Just," she said just before taking a bite, using the time chewing to collect her thoughts. She sighed through her nose, her shoulders sinking. She gulped. "Just...let me be a mess on my own."

"A mess?" he asked in a tone that was so disbelieving it was a little snarky. But surely he knew better than to be snarky with her when she was in a foul mood; she glared at him again. But he laughed, "you think you can hide how beautiful you are?"

Thena stared down at the tteokbokki she was holding. She was piled under comfy clothes and blankets and a fuzzy warmer stuffed inside the pocket of her hoodie. Her back hurt, she hadn't even washed her face that morning, let alone brushed her hair or checked what she smelled like.

Gil blinked as she handed back the utensils without having finished her last bite. "Sweetness?"

"Stop it," she grumbled, pressing her face into her hands, including the tears that were threatening more and more seriously to spill over. "Stop...being sweet."

Gil smiled as the problem was stated. He set the food aside, moving closer so he could pulled her into his lap. She growled at him a little but he nestled her head under his chin, "I don't think that's something a good boyfriend does."

Thena pressed her face into his shirt. He smelled like his office, even in his casual clothes. He smelled like gojuchang and gojugaru and aromatics.

Gil let her bury her face in his chest, her hand sliding up to join it, sitting over his heart, like it always did. "I'm right here, Thena. I'm not going anywhere."

She inhaled the mix of scents on him, letting it relax her like lavender in a bath. "Lunch."

"I'll save it for you, heat it up later," he promised, whispering as he ran his fingers through her hair. "I'll run you a hot bath, we can have a nice relaxing dinner. What do you think, Ice?"

"Hm," she mumbled, already on the verge of falling asleep again. The night had been fitful at best, and something about how warm he was always made her want to nod off. "Tell Kingo he's fired."

Gil laughed, although it wasn't the belly deep laugh he sometimes had. He was careful not to jostle her in his arms. "I think you should tell him that yourself."

She whined faintly, burying her face in his chest completely again, "later."

"Later," Gil agreed, kissing the top of her head as he supported her back with his arm and rubbed her shoulder. "Take your time."

[axther]

black tie occasion (and other little things that make you fall in love)

prompt: slow dancing

bakugou katsuki x reader 

rule number one of proms: there’s always a balcony 

Dedicated to @heroinepose​ - finally, a good bakugou fic

Thanks to @add-a-teaspoon-of-heroism​ for giving the idea of a suit. Nish, your mind-

Thank you to @samanthaa-leanne​ for beta’ing for me!! 

Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t much of a smiler, YN had concluded. 

Sure, he smiled, but it was more the kind of smile that brought a chill into your bones, especially if you were at the receiving end of it. There were smiles that he had around his friends, but they were still guarded, still angry. 

YN had made it her goal to see Bakugou smile, for real. 

Truthfully speaking, she hadn’t known Bakugou for very long. She entered Class 1-B and saw him in intermediate periods. He was growly and big and angry, and yet, YN found him endearing. It went without saying that most of her class was confused, but YN let them stay confused. She went with what her heart said, and her heart said that the bundle of rage was more than he let on. 

“A prom? What the hell?” 

Speak of the devil. 

YN paused mid-step from the lunchroom to glance over at the spiky blonde. Surrounding him was his posse, all powerful quirk users in their own rights. The red-haired one, Kirishima, patted Bakugou on the back. 

“Wow! A real prom!” She giggled, linking arms with Mina. 

“Don’t sweat it, bro! We can get some cute dates, have a nice night, and get some good food!”

“Aren’t proms an American thing…?” Sero murmured. “Why now?”

“I know!” Seemingly out of nowhere, Midoriya Izuku popped up with a nervous grin. His own group of friends were close by, and Ochako skipped to the info board with a smile. 

“It’s to create a sense of unity. It’s for all the classes in the first year, and since there’s such a rivalry between the classes, Principal Nezu wanted everyone to have an evening together!” Midoriya listed it off like he was a dictionary, and YN titled her head. 

“Something the matter?” 

Shinsou’s voice came directly behind YN and she jumped with a squeak. Several heads turned (though not Bakugou’s notably) at her cry, and Shinsou chuckled. 

“You looking at the board?” He hummed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The strap of her bag was jostled. “Or at Bakugou?” 

“None of the above,” YN huffed, turning away. “I was looking at the expanse between time and space.” 

“What the hell?” His nose scrunched up a little, watching her walk away with sass. He shook his head before glancing over at Bakugou, who was absorbed in berating Kaminari over something. His eyes flicked from him to YN, who was nearly skipping down the hall. Shinsou placed his hands in his pockets.

“Huh.” 

The next month has filled with a buzz, between students asking each other out and someone actually asking Midnight if she could be their date. It was a month of pure giddiness. 

Except for YN. 

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get the courage to ask Bakugou to the dance. She knew several other people had asked him and he had turned all of them down, spitting insults the entire way. With every rejection, fear crawled into her heart. 

“Where’s all that lion-heart gusto?” Shinso told her on the Monday before the prom. “Weren’t you raring to go?” 

“Oh, you hush.” YN sat at her usual lunch table, watching the rabid blonde growl and bark at his friends about something. 

“Personally, I’m kinda glad.” 

YN sat upright almost immediately, fury on her face. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Shinsou laid back with his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He hummed. “I wanted to ask you. You’re my only girl friend, after all.” 

YN’s brow went from furrowed to upturned, eyes wide and cheeks pink.

“Shinsou, you bastard. I thought you were saying that Bakugou and I weren’t a good fit!”

“You aren’t. He’s prideful. You’re calm.”

“Those two aren’t opposites!” 

From across the room, Bakugou stopped yelling at Denki and watched YN playfully smack Shinsou’s shoulder. His eyes narrowed.

“Bro…” Kirishima whispered. “She isn’t gonna make the first move.”

“Shut the fuck up!” He barked, looking as though the whites of his eyes had dominated his entire demeanour. 

“Ha!” Mina tittered. She leaned back with a wide smile. “The mighty Katsuki Bakugou, whipped like a little bitch.”

“I am not a little bitch!” 

In the days leading up to the prom, YN was nervous.

She didn’t think she should’ve, considering she nailed a date with Shinsou (or, rather, he nailed a date with her) so all she had to do was get an outfit ready. 

Unfortunately, her classmates weren’t much help. 

She walked over a bit timidly, peeking past YN’s shoulder. “O-Oh!” She gasped. “It’s very pretty…!” 

“Wear something sexy!” Setsuna cheered, holding up a short purple dress. “You’d look fine as hell in this!”

“No…” Ibara frowned, placing her hands together. “She must wear something modest that respects the Lord.”

“Wait!” Kendo gasped, holding two dresses that had already been rejected. “YN! What do you want to wear?”

“I dunno…” YN murmured, picking up the skirt a white dress that had apple accents on them. “Pony, you might like this one.” 

YN pulled it off the rack and handed it to Pony, pointing to the changing room with a grin. “Go, and we see if you like it!” 

“Mm!” She nodded. There was something unspoken about it, but Yui looked as though she wanted YN’s thoughts. 

She trotted off happily and Yui walked up. She was holding a mid-length black dress.

“Do you like this one, Yui?” YN tilted her head. 

“I think you’d look cute! Here, I’ll help the other girls pick something out, and we can have a mini runway show.”  

“MM!” Yui smiled and skipped away. YN began picking at dresses to give to the others, walking from the rack when something in the clearance aisle caught her eye. 

“Huh?” 

“Yeah!” Kendo pulled off a crisp shirt that vaguely reminded YN of a mobster. “Why?” 

She picked out a suit jacket, noting the orange hints with the pocket and cuff. She tilted her head and hummed.

“Oy!” She turned, looking at Kendo. “Do they have dress shirts over there?” 

YN shrugged, hiding the jacket underneath some of the dresses. She walked over to Kendo and handed off a sporty blue dress, smiling. “Can you put the shirt on top?” 

Kendo obliged, walking into a changing room. More dresses were passed around with the girls until everyone had something. Sassy compliments were thrown around (except for when Ibara dragged Setsuna for wearing something that clung to her). 

YN sighed happily, running a thumb over the orange fabric. It reminded her of Bakugou, and she felt terrible for putting a guy she wasn’t even going with over matching with Shinsou, but…

She blushed, smiling. 

“You look happy,” Komori leaned over YN’s shoulder. “Did you find something you like?” 

“Yeah.” YN held up the suit jacket. “This. I don’t know if they have pants here, but I can make it work.” 

YN paused in the changing room, still holding the shirt, pants, and jacket to her chest. She looked down and bit her lip a bit. She was going with Shinsou, and though she never even asked Bakugou, there was still a part of her that was convinced that she had a chance with Bakugou. 

“Ooh!” Setsuna jumped a bit and ran off, leaving YN and Komori in the dust. Both looked confused until Setsuna ran back with loose black slacks. “Here! Try this!”

“It’s modest.” Ibara murmured. “And you would look good.” Even Pony stepped out and cheered YN on about the suit. Setsuna gently pushed YN into the changing room with a grin.

“Go on, girl! Work it!” 

“Are you okay?” Komori’s voice leaked from the other side of the door. YN jumped a bit. 

“Uh, yeah!” YN changed as fast as she could, tripping over herself in an effort to get into the pants. “Just a second.” 

“Hot damn.” Setsuna whispered, eyeing YN up and down. “You look good.” 

Once she adjusted the pants, she opened the door and stepped out, albeit ungracefully. The girls stopped talking immediately, staring. YN felt an embarrassed flush crawl under her skin.

“Hey, uh, I’ll pick something different out, gimmie a second-” 

“Yeah!” Kendo cheered. “It really suits you!”

“Was that a pun?” YN gave Kendo a look. 

“Get it!” Komori grinned. “Bakugou’ll drop dead!”

There were collective laughs and YN flushed. 

“Ay!” YN rushed forward to mock-wack Setsuna and they took off across the store. Kendo watched them with a laugh as YN easily outran Setsuna, thanks to the pants. 

“But I’m not-!”

“And?” Setsuna shrugged. “You’ll still see him.” 

“Stop running.” Ibara frowned. 

“Get over here!” Kendo took off after YN, and YN watched her go after Setsuna. She paused and panted a bit, grinning. 

This weekend was going to be good. 

At five-thirty on Saturday, YN stood next to Shinsou, standing outside the U.A. hall. There were scattered blue and yellow balloons on the ground from an arch over the door. Lights lit up the path to the door in an attempt to set a mood, but it seemed tackier than anything. There were flower petals, too, and YN wondered if maybe one of the more sentimental teachers was hoping to make it romantic. Other students lingered, too, talking quietly. 

“Should we go in?” YN turned to Shinsou, wearing the white corsage he gave her in her pocket. He, too, wore a suit and had his corsage in the same style, but he was shorter than her and had to look up.

“Sure.” He shrugged. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands but settled for shoving them in his pockets. Part of YN felt guilty for the awkwardness, but accepted it and wrapped her arm over his shoulder. 

“Then let’s go.” They walked down the path and she opened the doors, letting Shinsou go before her. The entire hall was dimly lit, with more blue and yellow balloons than necessary and a DJ at the back of the room, but YN supposed that it was some of the teachers just getting too excited with the idea of prom. 

She saw Kendo wrangling Monoma by the punch bowl and Midoriya Izuku talking with Todoroki Shoto. They both nodded in Shinsou’s direction, and he nodded back, but turned to you. 

“Alright. Where is he?” 

“Huh?” YN stared at Shinsou dumbly. “What are you talking about?” 

“Bakugou.” Shinsou looked both unamused and ready to laugh. “Do you see him?” 

YN flushed and looked around. He was nowhere to be found just from glancing alone, and YN shrugged. 

“I don’t see him. He might not have come.” A part of YN hoped he did, even if it was just to see him in a suit. She continued looking. 

“Hm.” Shinsou huffed. “Fine then. Guess I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.” 

Before YN could ask what he meant, Shinsou disappeared into the crowd around them. YN could’ve sworn she saw a pair of pink arms pulling purple away, but before she could check, she got swept into the tide of newly arriving students. It was like swimming upstream, and she decided to just let herself be carried away. 

Sorry, Shinsou, but I’ve got a plan. 

She ended up shifting towards a more open area, facing out towards the main road and seeing several sappy teenagers make out with one another.

And there, at the edge of the balcony sat Bakugou Katsuki. The man of YN’s hour, if you will. She stared at him timidly, for a moment, before tilting her head.

Bakugou Katsuki swore up and down that he hated parties. 

He went to bed strictly by nine, avoided alcohol if he could help it, and stayed away from questionable crowds. 

So, why the fuck was he tipsy at eleven at night while Caramelldansen blasted over the speakers? 

The answer was that Mina had dragged him to the school’s prom. He didn’t want to go, not after the mess that was him chickening out on asking YN. But the acid-user donned him in a suit with hints of orange and walked he through the doors. But around the time that they started playing Lil Jon’s Get Low, drink after drink was offered to the oh-so-famous winner of the sports festival and that one kid that got kidnapped, right?, and Bakugou accepted one, if only to get the crowd to shut up and leave him alone. But the drink was vaguely sweet, with hints of pink lemonade, and when he was offered another he was less adamant in rejecting them. He didn’t even know who even snuck in the drinks; just that they long left him for better horizons and consenting partners. 

If Bakugou was being honest, then he didn’t like being tipsy. He wasn’t drunk enough to enjoy the feeling or do anything out of his comfort zone, but just inebriated enough that his balance was off, his sight felt a little bit weird, and it felt like everyone was talking about All Might. 

He couldn’t tell if the lights were red or brown anymore, and he’d lost sight of Mina, when he heard someone gossip. 

“I heard that the Bakugou dude...he’s why All Might retired, and he doesn’t even have a good attitude.” 

It probably wasn’t meant for him to hear, or even exactly what he heard, but it felt like it was whispered directly into his ear. Shame flooded through Bakugou, and he felt every set of eyes in the room fall on him. His breath caught in his throat, and the lights blurred, and he waded through the sea of people, hoping to get just a second’s reprieve. He never thought he deserved it, but he still pursued it. Maybe that was how one could explain Bakugou; searching for what he never felt he deserved. 

He stumbled onto a balcony, nearly shoving over two teenagers that were making out before clutching the balcony rail. The world spun, despite just how little alcohol he had, and he felt as though it was all closing in. 

“Water?” 

“Water?” She repeated again. “You look like you need it.” 

Bakugou’s eyes snapped open, and he shot the nastiest glare he could muster at who spoke. It fell almost immediately when he realised who it was.

YN stood there with kind e/c eyes and eyeliner that could cut him. She had a red solo cup in her hand. She held it out to him but kept her distance like he was a feral dog. 

Bakugou said nothing but turned all the way, choosing to remain cautious. Despite the bitter bile in the back of his throat, he hesitated. 

“Why?” He croaked out and hated just how torn his voice sounded. 

“Because you’ve been drinking” She extended the cup to him a bit more with a guarded smile. “And, you look like you need someone to listen.” 

Bakugou’s face flushed angrily and a white-hot rage rushed through him. 

“I don’t need a fucking therapist! Get out of my fucking face with that shit!” He snatched the cup out of her hand and she didn’t so much as flinch. 

“You were crying.” Her smile fell, and if Bakugou wasn’t tipsy and angry, then he would have sworn that concern flashed through her eyes. Bakugou took a quick but hefty gulp of the water, feeling it go down his throat with subdued satisfaction before rearing back to yell at her more. Before he could, though, she raised her hand to his cheek. Her fingers were deathly cold, like what a corpse might feel like, but they were gone before he could complain about it. She held her fingers up to the swirling lights, and every time a strobe hit her hand, Bakugou could see the glistening of something wet on her fingers. Her eyes held something like pity, but it wasn't pity for him. It was just indomitable sadness. 

She turned and began leaving as Bakugou stood there in shock. He didn’t feel himself crying or the typical runny nose, just the cold and sudden terror of loneliness. It carved him out like a pumpkin, and before he realised that he was moving, he had grabbed YN’s wrist. She glanced back in surprise, but it faded into a gentle look that, had it been any other person, would have made them melt.  Bakugou stared between her wrist and her face, glancing up and down and back again in confusion before ripping his hand away. He held it like it had been burned, with a flushed face and blank confusion. 

“Sorry,” He grumbled, letting his hand hang down again. YN didn’t leave but she was still turned. Bakugou could only stare as the lights backlit her, like a bomb, and there was a glint in her eyes that was neither pity nor judgement, but indomitable sadness. There was an oozing silence, until she tilted her head. For just a moment, he felt like he was being dissected by her eyes, scrutinised like roadkill, before the sadness returned. 

“And they fuckin’ say it’s not my fault, but All Might would’ve never had to retire if I had just been strong enough!” 

“Wanna talk?” 

Somehow, be it the little alcohol in his system or the fact that YN just seemed so warm, he had begun spilling all his fears and burdens to her. She never spoke, besides the occasional hum of confirmation, but occasionally rubbed his back when he choked up. She would whip out tissues sometimes, but overall, she listened perfectly. 

“I know that just being told that it isn’t your fault doesn’t help.” The girl murmured, staring through the short pillars of the balcony, taking a deep breath before continuing. “But I think it was a good thing that All Might retired.” 

Bakugou felt his heart leap into his throat with rage, but before he could rip her apart, she side-eyed him and took another sigh. 

“Don’t get me wrong. He did great work. But...he was in pain the entire time. Could you imagine the toll? Physically and mentally? That the world was on your shoulders, and you were slowly dying, but you weren’t able to just...stop.” She sighed for a third time, and for a moment, Bakugou wondered if she knew exactly what All Might felt like, with the stars in her eyes and sorrow on her shoulders. “His retirement would have happened eventually. You spared him months, maybe even years, of pain and torment. He went out, and nobody can ask him to come back, and now he can kick back and let someone else take over. And I think he deserves it. To be able to finally rest.”

Bakugou stared for what felt like the upteenth time that night, before feeling something else tense in his heart. It was like a knot had been wrapped around it, unbreakable and tight. But with only a minute, a girl that he only ever watched from a distance, at a party he never meant to attend, had undone it completely. It snapped, and if he thought about it enough, he could almost feel the cord hitting his ribcage and coming to rest on his kidney. 

YN gave a teasing grin on his subdued, awestruck look, and hummed. She rose with a groan, stretching her arms in front of her with a yawn. 

“There you have it. That’s just my opinion, anyway. You don’t have to take it.” Someone called out, and Bakugou couldn’t quite hear it, but YN turned. She waved, and then looked back at Bakugou. “Take care of yourself. Don’t let them get to you.” 

She turned to leave, and she felt like this incomprehensible force that made everyone else move like the tide, or the Red Sea. Softer, kinder music leaked through from the dance floor, and he shot up. 

“W-Wait!” 

It was a demand and a question all wrapped in one and YN snorted, nodding. 

YN stopped and turned with a tilt of her head. “Yeah?”

“Fucking-!” He was choking on his words, trying to literally grasp them from the air. “Fuckng dance with me!” 

“Sure.” 

She walked back to them and some of the other students left the balcony, abandoning them. Bakugou’s hands felt sweaty and he wiped them on his pants, heart pounding in his ears. 

“D-D’ya know how to waltz?!” He barked, eyes flickering from nervousness. 

“Yeah.” YN nodded. “I can lead.” 

And she did, spinning Bakugou around under the stars in a moment that felt untouchable. Bakugou looked at her, and she looked at him, and at once, he felt at ease. Everything melted off of him for five minutes and fifty-two seconds, with her hands on his hip and holding him just tight enough that he knew she was real. The stars glittered in her eyes, and the breeze was warm and cool and perfect. 

“I love you,” He whispered with wide eyes. She didn’t so much as flinch, pulling down into an Eskimo kiss. 

“I love you, too.”

[huntsman-ash]

RWBY V8E4 LiveThoughts

And were back at it again, this week with turkey and Italian preserved sausage as a snack! Lets see what RT has for us this week.

Oh, 20 minutes. Are they normally this long?

Oh, wait, the openings almost 2 minutes long. Thats more like it.

And now to Robyn and Qrow. Seems Robyns actually liking Qrow a little bit now. 

Guess the cells aren’t secured if a fly got into Schnee’s. This a “Fly on Mike Pence’s face” reference?

Qrow sounds more growly again. Did he get smacked back two seasons by Clover dying?

If by “darkness” you mean “Tyrian” then, yes. Also dude, its Clover. He was shit anyway. All the Aces are shit. Dont feel too bad about him.

And he’s got a point too. If Clover had thought with his head instead of his dick (yes, Im sure they were gonna fuck, Fair Games totally a thing), he probably wouldnt be dead now, and Tyrian would be the one with the sword through his chest.

But of course this is RWBY and V7/8 so things cant go their ways.

Ouch. Deep thoughts of Qrow. And some interesting stuff from Robyn too. I still think I’d prefer hopeandharmonizing’s Briar, though.

Marrows glare gives me life. Hare’s just a moron right now though, but thats no real surprise. She’s immature emotionally.  Honestly, shes...kind of like a less bad version of our current President. Always has to be the best at everything, fastest, leader, whatever.

Thats probably why this is grating on her so much. Even though shes TECHNICALLY the Ace’s leader now (I think? Seemed like she was Clovers lieutenant, so by rate of succession she’s in command now)

A glance at the little floating control pad... “Clerance access only”. Okay, that...seems weird. Shouldnt it say something like authorized personell only? Maybe it means access by clerance only or something.

Then Robyn’s name, and then process ID 4591-27. No idea what thats useful for but its there.

Also Marrow seems to be the only competent member of the Aces rn. 

Ah now we get to see some of the hills around Atlas. For those of you who have seen my headcanons on the Hunter-Killers and their base of operations, Fortress Academy, its out in these hills somewhere.

The music sounds like a boss fight.

The screen on Ren’s hoverbike reads “HVB Rhino” and “HD5800″ I can only assume HVB stands for “hoverbike” and Rhino must be its name, like how the dropships are Mantas. No clue what the number is. 

Also apparently the cold in Solitas is so bad it corrupts machinery?

Ahh, good, some action. Lets see what we get now. Ohh, teamwork. And again, signs that aura allows you to move faster and farther than a normal human

Heh, it really is like a boss fight, like the chase scene at the end of the first Viking level in For Honor.

Oh, and it can call for reenforcements literally out of nowhere? Or is the whole tundra of Solitas just CRAWLING with Grimm?

Yes, yes it did just call for backup, Yang. Maybe these are all forward scouts and ambush units from the Grimmstorm. They did say its the biggest...

Another banger from Casey Lee Williams...

What the hell happened in Solitas to cause this geography? Seriously, its a line of bridges over a gap in two cliffs...that cant be natrual, not that equal in distance.

Man, those bikes didnt even last half an episode...I guess thats fair, they are facing obsurd odds. Or maybe they just want Yang to be the only one with a bike.

And there goes the dropwall. Woops.

Also you can just kinda see it but they bounce off the rock and thats why they slow down. Useful.

Also this part with them falling off the edge reminds me of the ending cutscene of Halo 4s Forerunner level, where Chief flies out of a portal and almost goes sailing off a cliff in a Ghost.  Except here, the bike stays on the land and THEY go off the cliff.

I paused at just the right time cause YANGS FACE XD

Holy shit what are Ren’s weapons cables MADE OF? The one atop him is holding him AND the weight of his two teammates. And the one below has both Jaune and Yang. No sign of slippage or breackage at all. 

Ahhh there’s the whaleship (Monstra? Fuck it Im gonna keep calling it the whaleship). So yeah my headcanon now is the mountain its right next too is Menachite, where Fortress is. 

Oh hey back to the Schnee manor of all things! Does...this mean military invasion of the Schnee grounds. Hey Whitley. Lesbians are here. 

Someone make a video cut of Weiss banging on the door to the “Knock knock open up the door its real!” part of that one song.

Hehehehhe. Nice Weiss.

Also convenient about the house staff. Good thing RT doesnt need to animate them or Willow now...

I hope the staff took some of the silverware and some paintings on the way out.

Why is MAY the one carrying Nora.

Ah so now they’re stuck out there with no cell service. Hehe.

Ah okay so the cold in Solitas DOES eat aura. Good, my headcanon still kind of stands. 

I wonder, does wearing proper cold weather clothing (like bundled up stuff) help? Or does it cut right through...

Why is JAUNE the one hauling the bike? Isnt Yang the strongest? Or maybe they take turns.

Ahhh inter-team talking. Also, outpost. Hmm. Atlas one? Overrun if I had to guess. Unless he saw Fortress. Which I doubt.

I do love the circling shot here, with the light on Yang’s hair and the shadows on Ren. Its...really artistic and emotional. GREAT WORK RT. 

Rens got points. And hes saying stuff I myself have been saying for ages, which is good. I wonder why this is how Ren is now...working with the Ace Ops? Being afraid of loosing Nora? No one tell him what happened last episode.

Also, Jaune’s hair seems to have gotten less crazy in recent episodes. It looks less like a banana and more like a close tactical cut.

Yangs got a point.

Ahhh and now we get to see the inside of the whale. 

SALEM FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP SHOWING THE FUCK OFF. SERIOUSLY. WE GET IT. 

...this is gonna be a really criingy torture section, isnt it.

Someones gonna take that “hound didnt break you” line in the WRONG direction 

It is amusing the only thing holding Oscar down is the Hound actually. 

Ah so they’re still searching the remains of Beacon.

Also I like how Salem calls them “her forces” as if its anything but a random bunch of expendable monsters. Like, bruh, you cant search anything with THAT.

Ignoring the boring chat between these two, notice how the Hound’s shoulder literally flexes and shifts when Salem touched it. I dont think this thing is solid at all aside from the head and the bone claws...the whole thing is just amorphous Grimm material that can adapt to whatever situation it requires. A specialist unit. A...Hunter hunter.

Yo what the fuck was that. Magic? Huh. Did we actually SEE magic for once in the show? Only took us 8 FUCKING SEASONS...

Doesnt seem to be anything but an energy blast/pain never firing though. I assume his auras still gone, cause its completely singed his shirt, but it didnt do much else.

...Im not impressed.

She really needs to stop touching his face, its creeping me out.

HAHA SHE CANT DO IT HERSELF SHE HAS TO RELY ON HAZEL BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF HIM. I think we know where she stands now, doesnt she...say what you will about her letting Hazel have his vengeance (which is very valid, even he admits hit), but me? I think she A) cant actually beat up on Ozma herself because she still cares and B) shes almost out of magic too. Its weakened as the Gods have been gone and shes been forced to rely on the Grimm and on pawns. Basically, once she and Oz are both gone? That’s it for magic. Remnant will belong to the Grimm...and to technology. 

At which point without Oz around to hold them back Atlas is going to go fucking BONKERS and basically ensure the Grimm get pushed back into a corner and then finally permenantly STAMPED OUT.

More Whale insides. Seems like most of its empty grandious spaces. Or possibly muscle? Hard to tell. Either way theres a lot of open air in there...with tight corridors. If you fired a thermobaric warehead into one of the chambers the resulting blastc could possibly blow the doors off and send a raging fireball through the entire thing...Hmm. Filing that away for later.

NEO IS SO SHORT ITS FUNNY TO ME. I know its just positioning BUT SHE LOOKS EVEN SHORTER IN THIS SHOT THAN USUAL.

More note on the Hound; the “flesh” around its right shoulder spike actually sinks down when it stops moving. Its neck shifts and moves too, like the material isnt solid, but recirculating.

I also dont see any eyes. And it looks like it has some kind of...forehead mouth? Def looks like teeth down the ridge of its spine.

Oh boy yeah that...whole thing is basically melting in on itself.

I wont lie; hearing Cinder get berated by CORTANA (and yes, I still hear Cortana in Salem, espeically now that the two characters are kind of one and the same, both megalomaniacal leaders of giant armies, bar the fact that one of them is about a TRILLION times more dangerous than the other because one of them has access to Guardian Custodies and the other one is...well kind of lame and has to have beefy dudes beat up on small children etc) is pleasing to me. 

Get fucked, Cinder.

And THERE is Cortana again too.

Neo Marry Popins’s Ya’lling is fucking CUTE. And I love her little smirk.

Wait the whale’s that close?

..oh my...hold on.

...thats it. THATS ATLAS’S AIR FLEET!?!

12 AIRSHIPS? 12? EXCUSE ME!?

ARE YOU LEGITAMETLY TELLING ME THE BIGGEST MILITARY ON REMNANT HAS FEWER AIRSHIPS THAN THE SMALLEST NAVY ON EARTH HAS FRIGATES? YOUR FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT? THERE HAS TO BE MORE SOMEWHERE. THIS IS A JOKE, A STRAIGHT UP FUCKING JOKE.

...

No, thats...thats it. Thats Atlas’s airfleet. 12 tiny vessels. I swear it was bigger last season...

...HA! HAHA! HA! Oh, Ironwood, and Atlas as a whole...you deserve everything your about to get. I hope you die SCREAMING, and that when your bodies fall bleeding and shattered to Mantle, the people down there will realize that, no. You cant just assume Hunters will do all the work for you

THIS IS REMNANT. ITS KILL OR BE KILLED. YOU EITHER MAKE A FORCE POWERFUL ENOUGH THAT THE GRIMM RUN FROM YOU  OR YOU DIE INSTEAD. ATLAS FAILED. NOW THEY SUFFER.

Emerald stop simpin.

Also that is...the SHITTEST outpost...I have ever seen in my life. My overall thought process of Atlas is...sinking even LOWER than before. 

Though it seems more like a waystation. Bed, Dust, some dudes coat on it. Dead heater. Its probably a rest spot for Specialists out in the tundra.

Ren does the emo sit. Lol. Yang even says it. Brood himself to death.

Alright whats this now...something forcing itself out of the tundra?

And thats it for today! Cool ass concept art at the end there too. 

[dust2dust34]

(i will be the fire) that keeps you warm (2/5, Olicity, AU)

Summary: With Artie’s help, Oliver and Felicity get a little closer.

A/N: The response to this story has been incredible! Thank you so much!

(read on AO3)

(read from beginning)

*

A blur of dog greeted Felicity when she opened the door to Queen Manor.

“Artie!”

She dropped her purse and jacket on the ground and stooped down, scratching the slobbering face of her pit bull. The growing puppy was all energy and grins, her tongue hanging out as Felicity smooshed her face all over with cooing noises that fill the anteroom of the house.

“Who’s my big girl?” Felicity scratched Artemis all over. A low growly hum emitted from the dog as Felicity got into her sides, rubbing all over her beautiful blue-grey fur. “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff right there. We need all the lovin’s, don’t we? Because we never get any, not ever. Nope, not even from that grumpy landlord of ours who insists he doesn’t care. But he does, doesn’t he? Oh yes he does because here you are, not in my room but greeting me at the front door as the best welcoming committee ever.”

Artie leaned her full body weight into Felicity’s legs, nearly knocking her down. Felicity laughed, kissing Artie all over her face before standing.

The most delicious smell hovered in the air and Felicity inhaled it greedily.

“Yes,” she said, grabbing her stuff off the floor and hurrying to the kitchen. “Are we finally going to see the magical human who leaves food for us? Well, not us so much as me, but you get to enjoy the smells and they’re almost as good.”

Felicity followed the clinks and clanks of pots and silverware, the smells somehow getting better. She wasn’t sure how, but proximity was definitely a thing.

She breezed through the swing door. “God, that smells amazing.”

Broad shoulders she instantly recognized had her jerking to a stop. Her astonishment doubled - nay, quadrupled - when Oliver Queen himself turned to glance back at her with a soft, “Thank you.”

“You cook?” Felicity demanded, dumping her stuff on the kitchen table and sidling up next to him. “This entire time, all the food that appears in here, that’s been you?”

Oliver shrugged, stirring some sort of heavenly-smelling sauce. “It gives me something to focus on.”

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Felicity told him as she snagged something roasted and vegetable-like from a pan nearby. He moved to smack her hand, but she got the pepper in her mouth before he could and gave him a huge smile. “For selfish reasons, of course,” she added. “I am glad you have something to focus on, but also, everything you cook is incredible and for someone who can only claim to be a culinary microwave expert, I appreciate it. A lot. I don’t think you realize the good deed you are doing. These are real nutrients instead of the chemically-induced messes of whatever pre-packaged thing I’d make. Thank you.”

Felicity grabbed his shoulder for leverage and pushed onto her toes to kiss his cheek.

It stunned her as much as him. She fell back to her feet, her lips tingling from his stubble. It was unbelievably soft.

He cleared his throat and turned back to the sauce with a low, “I’m glad.”

Felicity’s eyes danced over his profile, noting the deeper color in his cheeks. She knew it was the heat of the kitchen making him flush and not her. But oh to dream.

And dream she did.

Which was so not a thing she should be thinking about right now with the ghost of her lips on his cheek taunting her.

She absently licked them just as Oliver glanced over to catch her still staring at him.

His gaze nailed her in place, narrowing just enough to ignite a needy tug deep inside her. Her fingers dug into his shoulder on reflex as her heart slammed into the ground. Oh, this was…

This was her landlord.

“Was Artemis good while I was out?” Felicity asked loudly - too loudly - as she quickly turned away.

“She always is,” Oliver replied from behind her. His voice was loud enough she knew he had turned to face her. She also knew that the burn in the middle of her back was totally her imagination and not his eyes on her.

“I know she loves hanging out with you instead of being cooped up in my room,” Felicity told him, scrunching her nose up at the puppy in question. “Don’t you? Yes, you do, oh yes you do.”

She didn’t even think as she wiggled her entire body in a way that had Artie’s entire body excitedly wiggling in return. She laughed and looked back to see if Oliver had seen it. He wasn’t looking at Artie, though. His eyes were on her. Her chest rolled, the little tug in the pit of her stomach going further down. It was over as soon as it started, though, and Oliver spun back to the stove.

The air was somehow more charged now.

“I like the company,” he offered.

“Do you hear that?” Felicity asked the dog. If her voice was a little rougher, well, it was because she was thirsty. Not for water. Ignoring her brain, Felicity made her way to the french double doors that opened into the enormous backyard. “He likes your company. But who wouldn’t with that adorable face?” She opened one and Artemis took off in a blast, leaving some hair lingering in the air behind her. Felicity laughed, watching the dog tear across the large backyard. “Thank you,” she said over her shoulder to Oliver, even though her eyes never left Artemis. “It means a lot knowing someone is here who doesn’t just think she’s an annoyance.”

“She’s far too cute to be an annoyance.”

“So does that mean you like her now?” Felicity teased, glancing back at him.

She caught enough of his profile to see him rolling his lips together in an attempt to fight a smile.

He didn’t smile often, this man. He had more demons than anyone she had ever met, and oh she’d met a few. But none of them were quite like Oliver Queen. In the keep-my-personal-horrors-buried-as-deep-as-possible aspect, and in others. Many others. Like cooking, apparently, and keeping his door open for Artemis at night now instead of making her crawl through the mucky corridor connecting their rooms. And that every once in a great while, he gifted Felicity with a grin, even if made him grimace, like he’d forgotten what it was like. And she wasn’t above mentioning the absolutely killer muscles he sported. He didn’t look like he ate any of the food he made. If he did, he’d have a little belly like the one she was starting to get. But not him. She was willing to bet a million dollars that his abs were the kind of abs people wrote about in romance novels.

They were that good and she didn’t even have to see them.

“It should be ready in about twenty minutes,” Oliver offered, looking back at her.

He caught her staring and with a start, her eyes flew to his. Felicity opened her mouth to say something - anything, oh my god - to divert the attention away from her stupid wandering eyes. But then her gaze caught on his. It seared right through her. The once-flat blue that she was certain mirrored his dislike of her were now a deep molten cerulean.

Heat licked at her, tugged at her core, flooded her veins.

Neither of them moved.

His eyes dropped to her lips.

The air sucked out of the room, instantly replaced with a blazing awareness that made her mouth dry and her breasts grow hot and heavy under her t-shirt.

A yelp broke the moment.

Felicity’s head whipped to the backyard to find Artie limping towards her.

“Oh no,” she gasped and darted out to meet her. “Oh, what happened?” It took her a second to realize Oliver was right on her heels, catching up in the blink of an eye and reaching Artie at the same time she did. Whimpers escaped the pit bull as she fell over onto her side, her luminous silver eyes staring up at Felicity, pain creasing her little face. “What’d you do, what happened?” Felicity asked her again and the puppy answered by going for her back paw. Her very bloodied back paw. Felicity hissed. Bright red smeared her once-grey coat. A little pink tongue swipe it away, but more oozed to the surface. So much more. Her stomach turned. “Let me look,” Felicity urged, pushing Artie’s face away just enough to see where the blood was coming from. She gingerly picked the paw up and spread her little toes to see she’d cut through the webbing there. “Oh Artie.”

Blood flooded the cut, coating Felicity’s hand and Artie’s paw. With a whine and a desperate look in her eyes, Artemis arched back to get the paw back into her mouth, but Felicity stopped her. She didn’t like that one bit and tried harder with a pathetic sounding growl, her little puppy teeth nipping at Felicity’s hand.

“No, trust me, you don’t want to do that, baby girl,” Felicity told her, and it was only now that she heard the beginnings of a tremor in her voice. Her dog was hurt. Something had hurt her dog. “How did this happen? Is the grass made of razors, or did… did someone leave something out here? I’ll kill them. Right after I help you. I don’t know how to help you. What… We need to go to the vet. Do they take walk-ins? I don’t know, I don’t even know their number. How do I not know their number? We were just there, weren’t we? I need their number!”

“Easy.” The order came out in a soft, unassuming voice, but the authority in it was undeniable. Oliver’s large hand smoothed across Felicity’s back. It helped. It grounded her. He grounded her. She watched him tug his shirt off. “Here we go,” he crooned to the puppy. He took the paw from Felicity and gently wrapped it. “That’ll keep you away from it for a minute.”

“Thank you,” Felicity said. She blinked away a sudden burst of tears and let out an uneven bark of laughter. “Wow, this is more intense than I thought it would be. Artie getting hurt, I mean. I just… I didn’t think I’d be so… weepy.”

“Your little girl’s hurt,” Oliver replied, giving her a gentle smile. It somehow both calmed her down and made her heart flip-flop a couple dozen times. “It’s overwhelming. Come on, the cut looked pretty bad, you should take her in.”

“Yeah. Yes. I will. Right now.”

Oliver bundled Artie into his arms and stood up.

Felicity followed after a beat, stealing the moment to take a deep breath before standing on oddly shaky feet.

When she turned to follow, she couldn’t hide the horrified gasp that escaped her. 

Oliver’s back was covered in scars. Some old, some still a little pink. There were ragged holes like he’d been shot, and there were long, willowy tendrils. From a whip, her mind supplied. Her eyes burned with another reason entirely at the sight. Smaller scars littered the rest of him, twisting and turning, some deep and ugly as if they had never healed right while others had to catch the sunlight to be seen. But the worst one was across his lower back, a burn scar that walked all the way across his skin, thick and mottled. When she managed to tear her eyes away from it, she noticed the faint outline of what looked like a dragon tattoo on his left shoulder blade.

He stiffened.

Tension turned his shoulders into the brick wall she knew so well, his muscles tightening up.

Her shock wore off barely a second later, but it was enough time to widen the emotional distance between them. In the blink of an eye, all that ground she’d fought tooth and nail for over the last two weeks morphed back into the barren landscape she encountered when she first applied to live in his house.

“Oliver…”

He turned to her, face blank, eyes flat, even under the blinding sun. Felicity’s eyes unwittingly dropped to his chest - more scars, more tattoos. God, what had happened to him? Her jaw dropped to ask that very question, but then he was coming back towards her. His face wasn’t blank any longer. No, it was taut with a fury she’d never seen before, all of it edged with shame and…

Sadness.

Without a word, Oliver handed Artie over to her and turned, getting away from her as fast as possible and she did nothing more than watch him until he was gone.

Felicity had no idea how long she stood there.

Too long, considering she had a bleeding dog in her arms. But her feet had melted into the grass, anchoring her in place, staring at where Oliver had just disappeared.

She thought she’d had an idea, about what he’d gone through, but she was wrong. So wrong.

And she’d made him feel bad about it.

Tears filled her eyes again only to vanish in a blink when Artemis wiggled in her arms.

It propelled Felicity forward, and with a nod, she shoved the moment down, focusing on her puppy.

“Yep, we’re going,” she told the dog, ignoring her still-shaking voice. “Right to the vet.”

*

Part 3 will be up tomorrow!

Thank you for reading!! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse. 

(Ko-fi is awesome too!)

[ladyshandioftheendless]

Safe

@misslivvie sent me this lovely thing and I just cannot right now!! IT’S SO CUTE!! A look into Ayesha’s thoughts during Chapter 2 of One Small Life~ Placed under a cut for its length~

She lay in her crib, whimpering in fear and confusion. The loud noises, the screaming, and the people from before were all gone, leaving her in silence, which she supposed should have been nice. But she didn’t like the silence either—she was all alone now.

The people that came into her home had been strange, strange and scary. There was one man among them who had stood over her, waving a circular object above her and saying something she couldn’t understand. Then a strange feeling came over her—a feeling she definitely did not like. She had cried, louder than before, hoping Mama or Papa would hear and come save her. But Mama never came, or Papa. The people eventually left, leaving her all alone.

Where was Mama? She hadn’t seen her for ages now. She’d put her in her crib, smiled at her, and then left. Papa was gone too; he had shouted something she couldn’t hear over the destruction, then seemed to have vanished. Everyone was gone now, leaving just her. Where was everyone? She was alone, cold, afraid, and confused. But she had given up on crying for now, so all she could do to let Mama and Papa know she was there was whimper.

Then she heard something, a scratching sound. It sounded like someone was trying to get in. Was it Mama, or someone else coming to get her? Her whimpering grew louder.

“I’m coming. I’ll get you out!”

It definitely didn’t sound like Mama or Papa. But it didn’t sound like the strange man from before.

The noises grew louder, until whoever it was found their way inside. Then a face appeared above her.

It wasn’t anyone she wanted to see. It was another man, with dark hair and a white face with an odd black mark. He looked down at her in surprise. She whimpered up at him, hoping he could help her.

Then he turned and shouted. “ACE! DEMON!”

Why did he have to shout? She didn’t like it at all.

He reached down and gently picked her up, holding her close. Immediately the cold was chased away, and she felt warmer. He was holding her almost like Papa did.

Where was Papa? Why hadn’t he come for her yet? She started to wriggle and whine in the man’s arms. The warmth was nice, but this man wasn’t anyone she knew.

The man cradled her close. “You’re safe now, little one,” he said in a comforting voice. “I’ve got you,”

Perhaps she was; but she still didn’t quite feel safe.

There was suddenly a loud BANG. It was just like the banging she’d heard when the scary people burst in! Were the scary people back?! She started to cry in panic.

The man tried to comfort her, but it wasn’t working. She just wanted Mama! Why wasn’t Mama coming for her?

Another man appeared, holding a large white piece of cloth. “Aw, poor thing.” He and the first man started to wrap her up in the cloth. “Let’s get you nice and bundled up, hah?”

The cloth helped her stay warm, but any comfort it brought was stifled by what the two of them did next. They began to pass her between them, speaking softly to her, no doubt trying to comfort her even more. But I don’t want you! I want Mama! Why weren’t they taking her to Mama? All she could do was cry, now frightened even more.

Finally, she heard the second man, who was currently holding her, sigh and say something. Then she heard a new voice.

This one was lower and sounded like a growl. It wasn’t like the voices of the other two; at least they had nice voices. This one sounded scary.

The second man brought her away from his chest and held her out, and she got a good look at who was now reaching for her.

At first she was a little frightened, because he looked… well, scary. He had black marks on his face, too, and eyes that looked almost yellow, and long black hair. But when she was placed in the man’s arms, and they wrapped around her, she immediately relaxed. This one’s arms were different. They were very warm, for one, and it was like they were forming a shield around her to keep her from harm. Her crying began to lessen and she snuggled closer to the man. She liked this one; perhaps he could take her to Mama.

“I swear I will never speak to you again if you tell anyone about this,” she heard him say.

The first man spoke. “Oh, your secret is safe with me, Daddy Demon.”

Daddy Demon? Was that his name?

“I will set you ablaze.”

His voice turned all growly again. But now it didn’t sound scary—now it struck her as wildly funny. She smiled and began to giggle. When she looked up at him, she saw he was looking down at her in what looked like confusion. Whatever it was, it made him look so funny she started giggling even more. Some of his hair was falling around his face, and she reached up to grab a piece of it. He had funny hair, too. She definitely liked this one.

She heard the second man say something, then the first man, then the third man turned and walked out of her home, growling quietly. Now what was happening? Were they finally taking her to Mama?

One of his hands reached up and took her hand away from his hair and forced her head down to rest on the hard, shiny thing over his chest. She heard a whoosh noise and a blast of heat, and she pressed her face into the hard thing. It was too hot, now. Was she wrong about the third man?

Then the heat disappeared, leaving her feeling pleasantly cool again.

“Beloved!”

Another man’s voice. How many men was she going to meet today?

“Treasure?” she heard the third man say. Then a form pressed against her back, squishing her uncomfortably against the hard thing. The third man moved her so she wasn’t squished anymore to the side of his chest, taking one arm away from its place wrapped around her.

“I am so happy to see you, my sweet Demon,” the fourth man said in a happy-sounding voice.

The third man—was his name Demon?—let out a noise that was odd-sounding yet comforting. “I am happy to see you too, my dearest Treasure,”

So the fourth man’s name was Treasure? Odd name. And they were talking to each other in the happy voices she heard Mama and Papa use when they were talking to each other… so they were like Mama and Papa, except two Papas? Interesting.

She moved her head, intending to get a look at Treasure, but in doing so caught sight of something on the hard thing. It looked like a face, but a very twisted-up face. She turned her head, and the other face did the same. That was her face!

She started to giggle again—this was funnier than the third man’s growling.

“Beloved, where did that child come from?” she heard Treasure ask.

The third man—Beloved?—sighed. “Come to my chambers with me. It’s a long story.”

As they started to move, she turned her head and finally got a good look at Treasure. He had long black hair like Beloved, but instead of dark marks on his face, his had gold in an interesting shape. He was staring at her with a curious look.

They entered another room and sat down on a surface, and she heard Beloved start to talk. She mostly paid no attention to what he was saying, instead looking curiously at their new surroundings. At some point Beloved lowered her from his chest to his lap, which she liked; she could look at more things that way.

She suddenly yawned. The warmth of the cloth and Beloved’s arms was making her feel tired. Too bad Mama wasn’t there to sing her to sleep like she always did—sleep sounded nice right now.

“What happened to her parents?” Treasure suddenly asked. “Was her mother nearby, or her father?”

She perked up at that. Had Beloved and the others found Mama and Papa after all? She looked up at Beloved, waiting for him to answer.

But for some reason, she didn’t like the look on Beloved’s face. He looked down at her briefly, then looked back up at Treasure. “As far as we know, she is the only survivor. Her parents were… most likely killed.”

She let out a whimper. What did that mean? Did the scary people hurt them? Were they… were they not coming back? She whimpered louder so Beloved would look at her again. What do you mean? Are they gone? Are they not coming back?

“Oh, Beloved, I think she heard you,” she heard Treasure say.

“I do not think she even knows what that means,” Beloved replied. I would if you told me!

Fear took over again. Why wasn’t he telling her anything?

Treasure suddenly reached his arms out. “May I…?”

Beloved didn’t move, then suddenly lifted her up and held her out to Treasure. Treasure took her and cradled her in his arms, and almost instantly she started to relax. His arms weren’t as warm as Beloved’s, but they were wrapped around her in a nice, snug way that she liked. But she still kept whimpering, wanting her answer. She wasn’t as frightened anymore, but still a little bit, and she was tired now, too. But she wouldn’t go to sleep until she had her answer.

Treasure looked down and smiled at her. He had a nice smile. “Hello there,” he said. His voice was nice, too. Soothing. “Aren’t you a pretty little girl?”

She wasn’t sure what that meant. She kept whimpering, hoping he would answer her.

“It’s all right, little one,” Treasure said to her comfortingly. “You’re safe now.”

He started rocking her slowly in his arms. Comfort immediately washed over her. Mama had never done that before. But it felt nice. Her fear was slowly leaving, replaced by a feeling of calm, and she let out a hum of contentment. She liked this one, too.

“How… How did you do that?” she heard Beloved ask.

Treasure looked up at him. “I simply… I don’t know, really. It seemed the right thing to do, is all.”

She tuned out the rest of their conversation in favor of simply taking in how nice Treasure’s rocking was. Perhaps she could get some sleep, even though Mama wasn’t there to sing to her. But just as she closed her eyes, Treasure stopped rocking her and stood up. “I will take her to my chambers. Get some rest, Beloved.”

He left Beloved’s chambers and walked for a while. She opened her eyes and glared up at him in annoyance, wanting to demand to know why he’d stopped rocking her like that.

After a short while, he stopped walking and looked down at her again, clearly noticing her look. “Oh, did I wake you?” he asked. She grunted at him. “I’m sorry. Just a little longer and then you can sleep.”

Well, at least he was sorry about it. He entered another room that looked very different from Beloved’s chambers and sat down again. He began to rock her slowly again, but kept talking to her.

“Between you and me, I hate when Demon acts this way. When he believes that because he is a demon, he deserves no chance at happiness.” He sighed and shook his head. “He is very stubborn.” But he was smiling a little, so he probably didn’t mind very much. He looked back down at her and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “But I suppose you don’t care very much about that right now, hm?”

No, she did not; she just wanted to sleep. She made a noise of agreement and he laughed softly, smiling at her. “I thought so. Sleep now, little jewel. As I said, you are safe.” He began to hum softly to her.

“Little jewel”—that wasn’t her name. She wasn’t sure what a jewel was, but it sounded pretty. Perhaps when they found Mama she could tell him her name. As she closed her eyes, the sound of Treasure’s humming lulling her to sleep, she thought briefly about what he said, about her being safe.

Funny, so many people had said that to her today. But it was only in the arms of Beloved and Treasure that she felt truly safe.

[gripefroot]

Down Under

Seminars are boring things. Whoever decided that several dozen high-energy secret agents working for one of the most covert organizations in the world, fighting terrorists and criminals by both day and night, would be pleased to sit in meetings for three days in the frigid Australian climate - was wrong. 

But there are perks. Hanging out with Clint Barton and Agent M - the two that have made this experience a hundred times less painful, is one of them. The free food is the other. 

Lunch break of the last day of meetings - lunch having been scarfed down in record time - yields sunny skies, and happily cool temperatures. Agent M offers some sightseeing in downtown Sydney; Clint grumbles along. 28 is more than happy - she has her own missions.  

A souvenir shop, tucked between a bookstore and a café. Shoulder against the doorway, 28 texts furiously on her phone in her hand - if she blushed, she would be - and the hasty ‘I miss you’ merely scratches the surface of being away from Bucky during a rare week of downtime. 

He’s so photogenic, isn’t he? 

M and Clint chatter happily, discussing types of coffee as they rifle through postcards. 28’s phone dings again - a secret smile on her face, and then -  

“Hey, 28. Wanna pick stuff up for the team?” Clint, brandishing keychains. M, scrunching her nose as if in revulsion of Clint’s lame taste. 

“Actually,” 28 says brightly - an idea bristling in the back of her mind, ready to be nudged forward. “I was thinking of that t-shirt over there - ” 

On display, a white shirt stretched on a half of a dummy, bearing a brightly-smiling koala bear with the lettering, “I hope I meet all of your...koala-fications.” 

“Steve would hate it,” Clint says at once, as M laughs along.  

“Oh, not for Steve.” 28 beams, wandering forward to rifle through the shirt rack. Pulls one out. “This is for Agent 41. She loves puns. Like me. She has a taste of...koala-ty.” This as she picks up a stuffed koala on the display, wiggling it so cutely for the benefit of the others. 

Agent M’s head sinks into her head. Clint groans aloud.  

“She does,” he says, a little grumpily, though a flush is beginning to tinge his cheeks. Oh, that’s promising.  

Shirt still in hand, 28 makes a show of pulling out her wallet - rifling through (plenty of) Australian dollars, before glancing up with a pouty lip, a dismayed expression. “Oh - I’m out of cash. I don’t want to change anymore since we fly out tonight…” 

“I can - ” Agent M starts to say.  

“Clint?” 28 asks, and puts on her best smile. He jerks, brows creasing in confusion - and then reaches into his pocket. “Thank you,” she tells him brightly, tossing him the shirt - which he catches with several blinks. “You should give it to 41. Since you paid for it. She’ll really appreciate it.”  

Clint stares down at the shirt. Agent M’s brows are nearly to her hairline - but 28 gives her a wink, and M nods in understanding as she crosses her arms.  

“The key chains for everyone else,” M advises with a waver of amusement in her voice.  

As he checks out with that paraphernalia, 28 wanders back through the novelty clothes, eyes on the prize - ah, yes. That’s it. A snatched package, and her souvenir is paid for as Clint bundles up his own bags… 

A happy reunion to look forward to, tucked in her jacket.  

It makes the last hours of meetings less dull - texting a promise to an intrigued recipient, getting a glare from Clint for not listening to a lecture on forging passports… 

A red-eye flight - dropping a bleary M off in San Francisco. Then onward - only an hour left on the Quinjet, and another cat-nap.

Avengers Tower has never been more welcome. A sight of home - more so the people (or person) in it - and a welcoming crew as the gangway is lowered. Bags in hand, Clint yawning - then choking slightly as Agent 41 gives an enthusiastic wave from where she’s waiting by the entrance, next to a stone-faced Bucky - a smile creeps up 28’s face, barely in check - and Bucky’s dawning grin is all bright mischief. 

Oh. He’s brimming to tell her something, she just knows it.  

“Gosh, I’m starving,” 28 sighs, giving a fake yawn as 41 blinks at Clint - and then looks down. Bucky’s eyes are burning on her face - she doesn’t react. “Ugh, it’s hot out here.” 

“Hot as a toaster, really. Hey - want some Pop-Tarts?” 41’s bright offer - accepted with a groaned ‘yes’ from Clint, and 28 shakes her head with a laugh.  

“I’ll find something cold.”  

A trek of four inside - 41 and Clint pulling off ahead, discussing in low tones the pastries available in the pantry, and he gasps in surprise as her lips form a flavor reserved for only the most special of teammates… 

“I have a box of Pumpkin Spice, Clint.”  

Clint’s weeping reply is a wonderful thing - 28 holds in her laughter for approximately nineteen seconds as the other two pull away, leaving her with Bucky in a very tight hallway. A brush of his arm against hers - and then he gently hoists the bag from her shoulders; she grins in thanks.  

“Got something for you,” she coos, and his brows lift with interest.  

“I heard the rumor,” he replies, scratching at the scruff on his chin with one hand. “Gonna show me?” 

“I’m thinking about it.” 

A twist of his lips, a narrowing of the eyes. 

“So,” 28 goes on, beaming as she winds her arm through his. “What is it you wanna tell me?” 

“How do you - oh, never mind.” A cross press of his lips.  

“You’re looking very smug, Buck.” 

“Fine. Fine! I - I just know something you don’t know.” 

28 smiles indulgently. “Uh huh. About what?” 

“Who. Agent 41.” 

“Oh?” she asks in growing amusement. Sauntering lazily down the hall. His blue eyes glinting all sorts of promises - but for later. Now, his grin is merely self-satisfied, and very handsome.  

“I know who she’s dating.” 

28 doesn’t laugh. Not for not wanting to, though. “Tell me about it,” she encourages.  

"Sam. It's Sam,” Bucky blurts, all excitement with his secret reveals. “He brought her doughnuts from that café she likes. Like, an obscene amount of doughnuts. And then they were all over each other during the Bake Off marathon." 

"Mmhmm, anything else?" 

He blinks. Surprised by her nonchalance, probably. But he presses on. "Uh, well, you know -- they, uh, they went for a jog last Thursday! But 41 hates jogging, you know that. So maybe they were doing something else." 

“Is that so?” 

"And he calls her Pumpkin Spice!" 

“You remember that mission, right?” 28 asks, bemused. “With Natasha? She and 41 got stuck in a supply closet with a bunch of Starbucks stuff, and 41 insisted on taking some back with her. Natasha was livid.” 

“She - what? Oh.” Bucky’s brow creases now, thinking. “But - but no one else calls her that.” 

“Sam’s the only one that calls you Tin-Man,” 28 teases next. “Should I be questioning you about dating Sam?” 

His mouth opens and closes - a bit like a fish. With a laugh she pinches his arm, and he growls in warning. A good warning. A warning that curls her lips, sends heat down her spine… 

Bucky’s room isn’t far, and the floor is deserted. Well - not quite. Turning a corner, he gives a sudden yelp as a sound reminiscent of a suction tube being pulled from flesh echoes in the hallway - two pairs of bemused eyes blink back at 28 and Bucky’s sudden appearance - Clint’s stained cheeks, the t-shirt clutched in 41’s fist as she gives a squeak of embarrassment. The two break apart as 28 quickly lets go of Bucky’s arm. But there are other distractions.  

Bucky’s gasp of indignation, his reddening face. 28 gnaws on her lips - oh, when she’s alone that night, she will be laughing her socks off... 

“How’re the Pop-Tarts?” she asks wickedly, and Clint clears his throat in embarrassment.  

“Um - we were just getting there.” 

“Seems like you were trying to get down 41’s throat,” Bucky says nastily.  

“It’s free real estate,” 41 squeaks. Wrings the shirt in her hand, eyes darting ‘round. “Um - let’s go.” A scuttling away as Clint hurries behind her, glancing back one last time with a slightly-sheepish, slightly-proud expression - beneath his breath, Bucky lets out a sigh which sounds an awful lot like, ‘Ew.’ 

Winding her arm through Bucky’s again, 28 just glances up fondly. It doesn’t take long - just a half-second later, and his expression contorts into sour annoyance, and he glances down. 

“You knew, didn’t you?”  

28 laughs. “I don’t much care for the bitterness in your voice, Buck.” 

“How did you know?” 

A slight tug and he starts walking again - hobbling, still in shock. 28 just shrugs, and he growls again. She likes that. He’s very growly today.  

Through the door into his bedroom - bag dropped, door locked, and his arms are around her waist before she can make another snarky comment - but with his lips on hers after four days apart...28 forgets what she was going to say.  

There’s roughness in the clear ‘I missed you’ of the roving hands, the hastily tossed aside clothes - perhaps a memory of that last morning before 28 had left for Australia. The morning Bucky had stopped by before dawn, just to say goodbye in his special way... 

His eager tongue, between her legs. A moan escapes her throat, and his low chuckle in her ear as he slides his fingers into the waistband of her unbuttoned jeans, tugging them down, makes the heat rush faster -  

Awkward steps towards the bed. A trail of clothes. Ragged breathing, clumsy lips - and then she breaks away, panting, to laugh in preparation of her joke, the hazy look of his darkened blue eyes positively devilish. Hot hands on her hips, snagging already on her underwear. 

“Your present,” 28 clarifies in a quip. Grasps his thick wrists, guiding him to the front -  

Bucky licks his lips. Sucks in a breath, lowering himself oh-so-slowly. 28 takes the chance to pull his shirt over his head, and her hands run so happily over the hard muscles of his shoulder… 

“Come on Down Under,” Bucky reads aloud. His voice is dry - totally unamused. Or at least pretending to be. He glances up with a shake of his head, withheld laughter twitching his lips, and 28 laughs. He pretends to take a nip, but she squirms, and somehow stumbles (not totally accidentally) against the edge of his bed, falling backwards.  

He follows her - as he always does. All fours, crawling above with a smile that promises all good things. Her hands run up his arms; the cool metal, the warm flesh, as his hair hangs low in his face.  

But there, Bucky stops.  

“I just want you to know, this is an interrogation,” he announces in a husky voice. Lowers his head, barely brushes a kiss to her cheek before pulling back.  

"Without your pants?" 

“Not a necessity for interrogations,” he points out. “Remember the time we got that guy in Namibia?” 

“Oh, yes,” she muses, a smile stretching peacefully across her face in memory. “I still thank that cow every day for pooing on your jeans.” 

Bucky’s lips press into a thin line. “Babe. How did you know?” 

“Know what?” An innocent question, a fluttering blink. 

“41 and Clint. Spill it.” 

“Oh, no,” she says next, cooing as he twitches under her touch. Weakening. But his expression stays stern. “I’ll never tell.” And the words are laced with such sensuality that a groan catches in his throat.  

"I'll make you,” Bucky says hoarsely.  

28 snorts. "Oh, no, don't do that. Somebody save me; I’m being held against my will." 

The insincerity drips. All dry humor, all pretend annoyance. But his frown is just the cutest - a pout, a wrinkle of the nose as his fists plant on either side of her shoulders, holding himself above her. “…You’re not taking this seriously, are you?” 

“I’ve never taken anything seriously in my life, Bucky,” she reminds him with a sultry smile. “You know that.” 

Another nose wrinkle - gosh, she’ll never get tired of those - and her arms wind around the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss. Bodies pressing together, scarce underwear presenting more obstacles than she would like...but Bucky shakes himself from her grip, and it’s her turn to pout.  

“Did you not believe me when I said ‘interrogation’?” he asks, lip curling. “Babe, we’re just getting started.”  

Oh. Oh.